considerations,-one that it was a more complete and continuous course than others; another, that it was among the last delivered by him. The dates will be found noted in each lecture.

I have ventured not only to put, in the form of notes, some unconnected remarks by the author himself and marked with his initials, but to add a few of my own. These are very few, and are meant to be illustrative. Perhaps, in the analysis of my feelings, there may be another pardonable motive, in an affectionate desire, not diminishing, but growing with every hour of desolate separation, of connecting some work of mine with his. Now that it is done, I feel as if a mournful pleasure were over, and I was parting anew from him.

Should this volume be received with interest and favour, it is my wish to complete the series by two other courses on kindred subjects:

1. Lectures on Modern History down to the Period of the Reformation; and

2. Lectures on the History of England, as illustrated by Shakspeare's Historical Dramas.

If, then, (for I am dealing very candidly with the public,) sufficient interest be felt in the intellectual and moral developments of these volumes to justify such a tribute to his memory, I may venture-at least, this now is my purpose to prepare a Memoir of my brother's gentle and tranquil life, and very interesting correspondence on both sides of the Atlantic. The life of a secluded American scholar may not be without interest to those near and at a distance.

With this hope clearly before me, and dreading, from observation in other cases, the effect of a preliminary memoir which affection so naturally exaggerates, I shall now simply note a few dates and incidents, by way of explanatory introduction, of his quiet life.

HENRY REED was born in Philadelphia on the 11th of July, 1808. He was christened by the name of Henry Hope, though the middle name was afterwards dropped. His early education was at the classical school, of high repute in its day, of Mr. James Ross. Here began a friendship, which lasted through life and survived in earnest sorrow for his premature death, with Mr. Horace Binney, (the younger,) whose name I venture to refer to in simple justice to the living and the dead, to us who grieve and to him for whom we mourn. This friendship was faithful

and affectionate to the end.

Mr. Reed entered the Sophomore class at the University of Pennsylvania in September, 1822, and was graduated as Bachelor of Arts in 1825. He began the study of the law under the general guidance of Mr. Sergeant, then at the heighth of his professional fame, and was admitted to practice in the District Court of the City and County of Philadelphia in 1829.

In September, 1831, he relinquished the practice of his profession, and was elected Assistant Professor of English Literature in the University. In November of the same year, he was chosen Assistant Professor of Moral Philosophy. In the service of the College he continued for twentythree years, faithful, I am sure I may say, to his duties,

however irksome; and never in all that period, until his visit to Europe, absent for any length of time from his post, except when compelled by sickness. In 1835, he was elected Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature.

Mr. Reed was married, in 1834, to Elizabeth White Bronson, who, with three children, now survives him.

It had long been his wish to visit Europe, but his professional duties and other claims had always prevented it. In the spring of 1854, the Professorship of Moral Philosophy, which he had once filled as Assistant Professor, being vacant, Mr. Reed became a candidate for the chair, but was not elected. Although no personal disparagement was intended, so earnest and so reasonable was his ambition for what he considered a high academical distinction, that his disappointment was most keen and depressing. His secluded mode of life, exempt from the world's rough competitions; his modest wishes; his consciousness of services rendered and duties performed; his natural pride in the affection of his students; and, above all, his conviction that moral science, in its highest and holiest sense, as elevated by religious truth, was a department of education which he was peculiarly competent to take charge of, combined to render the disappointment very poignant. His friends and family never saw him more depressed. I certainly never saw him so deeply wounded. He asked for leave of absence, which was granted by the Trustees; and early in May, 1854, accompanied by his sister-in-law, Miss Bronson, he sailed for Europe.

No American, visiting the Old World as a private citizen,

ever received a kinder or more discriminating welcome. The last months of his life were pure sunshine. Before he landed in England, his friends, the family of Dr. Arnold, whom he had only known by correspondence, came on board the ship to receive him; and his earliest and latest hours of European sojourn were passed under the roof of the great Poet whose memory he most revered, and whose writings had interwoven themselves with his intellectual and moral being. "I do not know," he said in one of his letters to his family, "what I have ever done to deserve all this kindness." And so it was throughout. In England he was at home in every sense; and scenes, which to the eye were strange, seemed familiar by association and study. His letters to America were expressions of grateful delight at what he saw and heard in the land of his forefathers, and at the respectful kindness with which he was everywhere greeted; and yet of earnest and loyal yearning to the land of his birth-his home and family and friends. It is no violation of good taste here to enumerate some of the friends for whose kind welcome Mr. Reed was so much indebted; I may mention the Wordsworths, Southeys, Coleridges, and Arnolds, Lord Mahon, Mr. Baring, Mr. Aubrey De Vere, Mr. Babbage, Mr. Henry Taylor, and Mr. Thackeraynames, one and all, associated with the highest literary or political distinction.

He visited the Continent, and went, by the ordinary route, through France and Switzerland, as far south as Milan and Venice. returning by the Tyrol to Inspruck and Munich, ana thence down the Rhine to Holland. But his last

associations were with the cloisters of Canterbury, (that spot, to my eye, of matchless beauty,) the garden vales of Devonshire, the valley of the Wye, and the glades of Rydal. His latest memory of this earth was of beautiful England in her summer garb of verdure. The last words he ever wrote were in a letter of the 20th September to his venerable friend, Mrs. Wordsworth, thanking her and his English friends generally for all she and they had done for him.

The rest is soon told.

On the 20th of September, 1854, Mr. Reed, with his sister embarked at Liverpool for New York, in the United States steam-ship Arctic. Seven days afterward, at noon, on the 27th, when almost in sight of his native land, a fatal collision occurred, and before sun-down, every human being left upon the ship had sunk under the waves of the ocean. The only survivor who was personally acquainted with my brother, saw him about two o'clock P.M.; after the collision, and not very long before the ship sank, sitting, with his sister, in the small passage aft of the dining saloon. "They were tranquil and silent, though their faces wore the look of painful anxiety." They probably afterwards left this position, and repaired to the promenade deck. For a selfish struggle for life, with a helpless companion dependent upon him, with a physical frame unsuited for such a strife, and, above all, with a sentiment of religious resignation which taught him in that hour of agony, even with the memory of his wife and children thronging in his mind, to bow his head in submission to the will of God, for such a struggle he was wholly unsuited;

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