;0\#f W^^Kr'\AlC----'': Si-iV,r","w-.*-'. we-" LIFE OK HORACE MANN. By HIS WIFE. ' SECOND EDITION. reoo Genl's ^ o *sf»'ngton D-°* • BOSTON: WALKER, FULLER, AND COMPANY, 245 Washington Street. M DCCC LXV. 100 ins ■ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, BY MRS. MART MANN, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. Stereotyped bt C. J. Peters and Soh. Press of Geo. C. Rand & Avert. DEDICATION. 1 dedicate this work to the toung. Those who were young when Mr. Mann first entered upon his educational work in Massa- chusetts, and who are now men and women, love to call themselves his children. " My eighty thousand children " was a favorite expression of his own; and those words alone expressed the sentiment he felt towards them. They were to him the next generation, whose culture must tell upon society for good or for evil; and it was a delightful task to help them to a better one than was then enjoyed by the people at large. In his later life, other young people came under his direct personal influence, who were old enough to love him with enthusiasm, and to labor cordially to diffuse the views and purposes of life which he so earnestly inculcated upon them. I know they will love to read the record of his growth, of his affections, and of his success; and they can also sympathize with his trials. If he had been less ardent, he would have suspended the gigantic efforts he made for success in his last enterprise to a period when he could have obtained more co-opera- tion ; but his zeal in the cause blinded him to the extent of his own physical powers, and he fell as by a mortal blow. M. M. Concord, Mass. 8 ■- 1-1 W^b INTRODUCTION. It has been more difficult than was anticipated to write a memoir of a life from so near a point of view. I am conscious of my dis- abilities as well as of my advantages for the grateful task. One tends to idealize a character, which, during many years of the clos- est intimacy, was never swayed by unworthy motives, or acted upon secondary principles, and over which the beauty of sacred affections poured an indefinable charm. I am aware, that, where others see faults, I see only virtues. When his is called a " rugged nature," because he could not temporize, and because he made great requi- sitions of men upon whom were laid great duties, I see only his demand for perfection in others as well as in himself; and no man ever made greater requisitions of self. He could forget his own interests when he worked for great causes; and he sometimes wished others, who had not his moral strength, to do likewise. But the very requisition often evolved self-respect to such a degree as to bring forth the power to do the duty, as many a man who has come under his influence can testify; and what greater honor can we do to our fellow-man than to expect of him the very high- est of which he is capable ? It is true of him, that he had not much charity for those who sinned against the light; but it is equally true, that his tenderness for the ignorant and the oppressed was never found wanting, and that the first motion of repentance in the erring melted his heart at once. Love of man was so es- sentially the impelling power in him, that it cost him no effort to exercise it; but he had no self-appreciation which made him feel that he could do what others could not if they would. Perhaps the most remarkable trait in his character was his modest estimate of himself. He measured himself by the standard he wished to attain, and not by comparison with others; and, when he was lauded v VI INTRODUCTION. for what he had accomplished, his unaffected humility made him uncomfortable because the act was not more worthily and ade- quately performed : for, at every stage of his progress, he was as far from his own ideal excellence as before. By nature, he craved the sympathy and approbation of his fellow-men, — not of the populace, but of those whom he respected and loved ; yet even this craving did not deflect him from the path of rectitude, or blind him to the demands of duty. Principles were more to him than even friends ; which is no light praise of one who loved so tenderly, and felt so keenly every suspicion of his motives. He rarely unbosomed him- self ; for his sensibilities were of exquisite delicacy: the musician who has the acutest ear for harmony is not more sensitive to a dis- cord than he was to the slightest jar of feeling. He was too earnest a man to be able to sustain superficial relations with other men; and this often made him solitary when he would fain have been social, and made his intimate circle a small one. Friendship meant more to him than to most men : it implied not only pleasant social relations, but a oneness of sentiment and principle, without which the delicate links of the magic chain would soon part. He could not give his affections to those who did not share his love of hu- manity or his moral insight; for both his conscience and his intel- lect must consent before the bond could be cemented. But, when he did unfold his heart, the surrender was entire; and he became again a child in his confidence, and dependence upon affection. In those crises of his life when divergence of principle separated him, as was inevitable, from many whom he had loved, and of whom he had hoped all noble things, a woman could not weep bitterer tears over the disappoiutment. This- tenderness of his character can only be equalled by the moral force with which he assailed whatever he saw to be wrong in the world. It was a conscientious act with him to battle with evil wherever he saw it. Man was endowed with his destructive and combative powers for this end alone, as he thought; his only legitimate enemy being evil. The men who were the victims of it were the objects of his solicitude; the men who made evil their good, the objects of his attacks, if only so could he lay the spirit that marred creation. Still, evil was, in his estimation, only relative; the absence of good, one of the conditions of imper- fection and of growth. " If I believed in total depravity, I must, of course, believe in INTRODUCTION. VII everlasting punishment," he would say; "but I consider both unworthy of God." To hunt evil into its corner, therefore, was the first step towards turning it into food for growth. He could bear, for himself and others, present pain, however acute, in order to redeem as much of this life as possible for truth and heaven, whose enjoyment is entered whenever the spiritual element is made to take precedence of the earthly one in our double nature. Painful early impressions of his heavenly Father cast a cloud over much of his religious life; for persons of such delicate organization do not easily recover from impressions made upon their nerves in childhood. He could have said with another remarkable man who emerged from the gloom of Orthodoxy into the light and life of religious liberty, " My heart is Unitarian ; but my nerves are still Calvinistic." But his faith in endless progress grew stronger with every experience, till his very aspect was irradiated by it. All nature became full of revealings to him, —revealings of beneficent laws, of overflowing love : nothing in it seemed trivial to him ; for every thing had been an object of divine thought, from the hum- blest flower, or even stone, to the most distant star. And, while he loved with an unutterable love the beauty God had made, the revelations of science were scarcely less sacred to him than the rev- elations of moral truth; and they were illustrative of each other in his teachings. This conception of the universe was not given to his childhood; but he wished it to remain the birthright of all who came under his influence, rather than that it should be wrested from their experience as it had been from his own. But not the less earnestly did he continue to labor to put the weapons of strength into the hands of the young, or less sturdily do battle against the enemies that assail us from within; and he learned to look with more pity than indignation upon those who abused God's gifts, when they should only have used them: In reproving the young, which it became his duty to do, he was often moved to tears; and the more obdurate the subject, the more deeply ho was affected. But one of those who responded most genially and naturally to his inspiring touch said of him, that " it was heaven to look into his face." Those who loved him are consoled by the thought that he did not live to see the terrible struggle of his beloved country ; for he was keenly susceptible to every form of suffering, and had forelived it VI11 INTRODUCTION. all by his reaUzation of the relations of cause and effect. His clear moral convictions would have saved him from any doubt that thin is a necessary war of purification; yet he had allowed himself to hope for a more peaceful solution of our national evil through the milder forms of industrial and commercial interests. Like the great souls of all times, he wished beneficent changes to come to pass through reflection rather than through violence.* * Since the above was written, the glorious advance in public sentiment, which has resulted in the death-blow given to the cause of all our woe, might well make his friends wish that he could have lived to share the universal joy. Yet who can doubt that all is open vision to those who have vanished into other spheres from spheres below scarcely less divine t CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE. Birth. — Early Life.— Influence of Calvinism. — Autobiographical Letter.— A Friend's Letter concerning that Period. — Preparation for College. — Letters Home. — Brown University. — Letter from his Chum, Judge Ira Barton. — College Honors. — Tutorship. — Law School. — Letter of J. Scott, Esq. — Law-practice in Dedham. — Fourth-of-July Oration. — Marriage.— Death of his Wife.— Letters upon the Subject. — Removal to Boston.— Death of Silas Holbrook ; of Dr. Messer.— Intercourse with Dr. Chan- ning.—Rev. E. Taylor. — Mr. Jon. Phillips. — Dr. Howe. — Hon. C. Sum- ner. — Rev. R. C. Waterston. — S. Downer, Esq. — Dr. Woodward. — Dr. Todd. — George Combe, Esq.—Letter to his Sister. — Letters to Friends through 1S37................................................................ 0 CHAPTER II. Mr. Mann as an Educator. — Combe's Constitution of Man. — Common-school System..................................................................... SO CHAPTER III. Extract from Journal from May 4,1S37, to March, 1843. — B. Taft, jun. — Ed- mund Dwigat, and Board of Education. — Nomination as Secretary. —Tem- perance Cause. — Names of Board of Education. — Examination of Ply- mouth-Colony Laws. — Letter to Edmund Dwight, Esq., upon Duties of Secretary. — Acceptance of the Office of Secretary. — Letter to a Friend upon the Subject. — Dr. Channing's Sympathy.—Chapoquiddic Indians— Conventions in Various Places. — Marshpee Indians. — Indian Reception in Boston — Convention in Salem. — Re-union at Jonathan Phillips's, Esq..... 65 CHAPTER IV. First Report to the Board of Education. —First Normal School. — School Conventions of 1838. George Combe, Esq. —G. Combe's Lectures.—First Number of Common-school Journal. — Letter to Dr. Storrs upon an Attack on the Board of Education in " Boston Recorder." —Letters to G. Combe, Esq. — Rev. Cyrus Pierce. — Opening of First Normal School. — School Conventions of 1839. — Invitation to take Charge of College in Missouri.— Governor Morton's Inaugural. — Attack on the Board of Education in the Legislature of 1839. —Journey to Washington and the West. — Visit to ix X CONTENTS. Gen. Harrison.— School Conventions of '840—Letters to G. Combe, Esq. — Abstract of School Returns. — Attack on Board of Education in the Le- gislature of 1841. — Letters to Nieces. —Letter to G. Combf, Esq.— Article in " Edinburgh Review " upon Massachusetts Schools. — Letter to G. Combe, Esq. — School Conventions of 1842. — Cause of Education in the Legislature of 18-12. —Letters to Rev. S. May, then Principal of Lexington Normal School.—School Libraries................................................. 08 CHAPTER V. Second Marriage. — Voyage to Europe. — Motives. — Extracts from Journal.— Eaton Hall.—Westminster Abbey. — Smithfleld Market.—Rag Fair.— Jews' Quarter. — Greenwich Hospital. — Carlyle.— Factory Commission.'— Normal School. — National Training College. —Archbishop VViiately. — City of London. —Royal British School for Boys. —St. Paul's. — The Tower.— Stafford House. — Windsor. — Uanwell Lunatic Asylum. — Home and Colo- nial Infant School. — Blue-coat School.— House of Commons. — Penton- ville Prison. — Almack's. —Archbishop Whately.—York Cathedral. — Jour- ney to Scotland. — Edinburgh. —Schools. — Scotch Scenery. — Glasgow. — Society for the Relief of Widows and Children of Schoolmasters. — Ham- burg. — Magdeburg. — Berlin. — Potsdam. — Sans Souci. — Charlotten- berg. — Von Turk. — Royal Orphan House. — Frankc Institute of Halle. — Dresden. — Saxon Switzerland with Mr. and Mrs. Combe. — Lunatic Asy- lum of Pirna. — Konigstein and Lilienstein. — Saxon Diet. — M. da Krause. — Mr. Noel. —Bohemiau Education. —Austrian Education.— Hof-prediger Ammon —Erfurt. — Eisenach. — Wartberg. — Nassau. — Darmstadt. — Carls- ruhe. — Baden. — Biugcn. — Coblentz. — Cologne. — Holland. — Gronigen. — Deaf and Dumb School. — Leyden. — Rotterdam. — Antwerp. — Brus- sels.—Hospitals and Prisons of Paris. — Normal School. — Jardin des Plantes. — Foundling Hospital. — Versailles.— Return to Loudon —Visit to Oxford. — Return to America. — Letters to Friends between April, 1844, and August, 1852. — Attack of the Episcopalians. — Attack of the School- masters of Boston. —Normal School-house at West Nettton.— Reply to Schoolmasters. — Mr. Quincy's Donation. — Schoolmasters' Rejoinder.— Teachers'Institutes.—Mr. Tuttle's Bequest. —Attack of Teachers' Advo- cate.— Dedication of Bridgewatcr School-house.—Study Hours in Normal School at West Newton. — Irish Famine.— Death of Dr. A. Combe. — Death of J. Q. Adams. — Nomination to his Seat in Congress. — Defence of Drayton and Sayres. — Religious Qualifications of Teachers, ia Letter to Mr. Wright. — Nomination of President Taylor. — First Defeat of Compromise Bill.— Oregon Bill. —South-Carolina Convention. — Treaty Willi Mexico. — Cali- fornia Bill. — Memoir of Dr. Chauniug. — Letter from Theodore Parker.— Another Session of Congi ess. — Contest for Speaker and Clerk. — Prophecy of the Rebellion (Feb. G, 183U). —Teaching the Dumb to speak. — Mr. Web- ster's Seventh-of-March Speech.—Death of Mr. Calhoun. — Compromise Bill. — President Taylor's Death. — Mr. Fillmore's Course. — Attack on Mr. Web- ster.—Texas Boundary Bill. —Letters from Theodore Parker. — Fugitive- slave Bill. — Review of Congressional Life in a Letter to Mr. Combe. —Re- election to his Seat.—Kossuth in Washington. —Temperance Lecture in Syracuse. — Letter to Young Men's Debating Society. — Letters to G. Combe, CONTENTS. XI Esq. — Proslavery Spirit in Congress. —Mr. Arbuckle. — Letter to Rev. E. Fay upon Antioch College. — Presidential Election. —Maine. Liquor Law.— Death of Henry Clay. —Dr. Henry Barnard. — Pardon of Drayton and Sayres. — C. Sumner's First Speech in Congress. — Letter to Rev. A. Craig....................................................................... 174 CHAPTER VI. Nomination as Governor of Masssachusetts, and for President of Antioch Col- lege—Speeches of Seth Webb, Esq. —Hon. Henry Wilson. — First Fac- ulty Meeting of Antioch College at West Newton. — Journey to the West. — Grace Greenwood's Mother. — Return to Washington. — Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin. — Woman's Rights. — Thackeray. — Miss Dix. — Mr. Pierces Cabinet. — Muzzey's Prosecution for publishing Volume of I'olitical Letters and Speeches by Mr. Maun. — Removal to Ohio. — Opening of Antioch Col- lege.— History of the Enterprise. — Lady Professors. — Unitarian Liber- ality. — Joins " Christian " Church. —Bible Class. —College Discipline.— Colored Students. — Eulogies of Rev. H. C. Badger and C. W. Christy, Esq. — Letters. — Theodore Parker at Antioch College. — Idiot School of Syra- cuse.— Letters to Hon. Gerritt Smith (one in the Appendix); to Rev. A. Craig. — Political Matters. — Letter from Theodore Parker. — Mackinaw. — Letter to D. Austin, Esq.; to Hon. C. Sumner; D. Austin, Esq.; Rev. Cyrus Pierce; Rev. A.Craig. — Crisis at Antioch College. — Second Visit to Mackinaw. — Letters to Mr. Craig and to Rev. E. Conant on Financial History of Antioch College. — Donations from D. Austin, Esq. —Letters to Rev. S. May. — Last Efforts to save the College. — Death of G. Combe, Esq. — Preparatory School of Antioch College. — Letter to Rev. G. Conant. — Letter to Rev. O. Wait on his own Religious Opinions. — Last Labors.— Purchase of the College by an Independent Corporation. —Last Commence- ment Day. — Last Illness. — Last Baccalaureate............................ 383 APPENDIX. A. Correspondence connected with a Testimonial of Massachusetts Legislature to Mr. Mann when Secretary of Board of Education.......................... 57" B. " Code of Honor," falsely so called, originally accompanying a Catalogue of Antioch College........................................................... 5S3 C. Report on Resolutions on Intemperance, Profanity, and Tobacco............ 5(f) D. Letters Irom Mr. Combe inadvertently omitted in the text.................... 601 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. CHAPTER I. HORACE MANN was born in Franklin, Mass., on the 4th of May, 1796. His father, who died^hen he was thirteen, was a farmer, and a man who left in his family a strong impression of moral worth, and love of knowledge ; but he had not the means to give his chil- dren any better advantages of education than this inher- itance. His mother, with whom Horace remained till he was twenty years of age, was the object of his most pro- found respect and tender affection ; but, in those days, a certain reserve and distance existed between parents and children, which constituted a great barrier io freedom of intercourse. His habits of reserve were such, that, by his own account, he never told even his mother of personal physical sufferings until they revealed themselves by their own intensity;. and of his mental emotions he never thought of any thing but to keep them to himself. In our day, when enlightened parents make it such a point to secure the personal confidence of their children by sympathizing in their least joys and sorrows, we can hardly reconcile a sterner rule with the idea of true affec- tion, or'estimate the depressing effect of such puritanical manners upon a sensitive child. He was obliged to work out all his problems alone, and retained only painful 9 10 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. recollections of the whole period which ought to be, with. every child, a golden age to look back upon. But, even at that time, his lively affections and naturally joyous na- ture bubbled up irrepressibly when in company with those of his own age. He was full of practical fun and witty repartee ; playing his native logic on all half-thinkers, but neVer unkindly. If any opportunity had been offered him for artistic culture, he might have excelled in it; for he sometimes tried his wings in secret. But there was a repressing influence upon all such " foolish waste of time;" and he said of himself, that, in his younger days, he was accustomed to regard the cultivation of the imagi- nation in the light of a snare to virtue rather than as a legitiinfte enjoyment of God-given powers. It has been well said of him by a sagacious friend, that " his causal- ity was an inspiration." It was all that saved him in those dark days, as may be seen by his own testimony. His modesty, however, being as striking a trait as his logi- cal power, his heart was long influenced by the social views around him, even after he suspected their fallacy. In a letter to a friend, he says,— [ regard it as an irretrievable misfortune that my childhood was not a happy one. By nature I was exceedingly elastic and buoyant; but the poverty of my parents subjected me to continual privations. I believe in the rugged nursing of Toil; but she nursed me too much. In the winter time, I was employed in in-door and sedentary occupa- tions, which confined me too strictly; and in summer, when I could work on the farm, the labor was too severe, and often encroached upon the hours of sleep. I do not remember the time when I began to work. Even my play-days — not play-days, for I never had any, but my play-hours — were earned by extra exertion, finishing tasks early to gain a little leisure for boyish sports. My parents sinned ignorantly; but God affixes the same physical penalties to the violation of his laws, whether that violation be wilful or ignorant. For wilful violation there is the added penalty of remorse; and that LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 11 is the only difference. Here let me give you two^ pieces of advice which shall be gratis to you, though they cost me what is of more value than diamonds. Train your children to work, though not too hard ; and, unless they are grossly lymphatic, let them sleep as much as they will. I have derived one compensation, however, from the rigor of my early lot. Industry, or diligence, became my second nature ; and I think it would puzzle any psychologist to tell where it joined on to the first. Owing to these ingrained habits, work has always been to me what water is to a fish. I have won- dered a thousand times to hear people say, " I don't like this busi- ness •" or, "I wish I could exchange for that;" for with me, whenever I have had any thing to do, I do not remember ever to have demurred, but have always set about it like a fatalist; and it was as sure to be done as the sun is to set. What was called the love of knowledge, was, in my time, neces- sarily cramped into a love of books • because there was no such thing as oral instruction. Books designed for children were few, and their contents meagre and miserable. My teachers were very good people; but they were very poor teachers. Looking back to the schoolboy-days of my mates and myself, I cannot adopt the line of Virgil, — " O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norintl" I deny the bona. With the infinite universe around us, all ready to bo daguerrotyped upon our souls, we were never placed at the rio-ht focus to receive its glorious images. I had an intense natural love of beauty, and of its expression in nature and in the fine arts. As " a poet was in Murray lost," so at least an amateur poet, if not an artist, was lost in me. How often when a boy did I stop, like Akenside's hind, to gaze at the glorious sunset, and lie down upon my back at night on the earth to look at the heavens! Yet, with all our senses and our faculties glowing and receptive, how little were we taught! or, rather, how much obstruction was thrust in between us and Nature's teachings! Our eyes were never trained to distinguish forms and colors. Our ears were strangers to music. So far from being taught the art of drawing, which is a beautiful language by itself, I well remember that when the impulse to express 12 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. in pictures what J could not express in words was so strong, that, as Cowper says, it tingled down to my fingers, then my knu-kles were rapped with the heavy ruler of the teacher, or cut with his rod, so that an artificial tingling soon drove away the natural. Such youth- ful buoyancy as even severity could not repress was our only dancing- master. Of all our faculties, the memory for words was the only one specially appealed to. The most comprehensive generalizations of men were given us, instead of the facts from which those generali- zations were formed. All ideas outside of the book were contraband articles, which the teacher confiscated, or rather flung overboard. Oh ! when the intense and burniug activity of youthful faculties shall find employment in salutary and pleasing studies or occupations, then will parents be able to judge better of the alleged proneness of children to mischief. Until then, children have not a fair trial be- fore their judges. Yet, with these obstructions, I had a love of knowledge which nothing could repress. An inward voice raised its plaint forever in my heart for something nobler and better • and, if my parents had not the means to give me knowledge, they intensified the love of it. They always spoke of learning and learned men with enthusiasm and a kind of reverence. I was taught to .take care of the few books we had, as though there was something sacred about them. I never dogs-eared one in my life, nor profanely scribbled upon title-pages, margin, or fly-leaf; and would as soon have stuck a pin through my flesh as through the pages of a book. When very young, I remem- ber a young lady came to our house on a visit, who was said to have studied Latin. I looked upon her as a sort of goddess. Years after, the idea that I could ever study Latin broke upon my mind with the wonder and bewilderment of a revelation. Until the age of fifteen, I had never been to school more than eight or ten weeks in a year. I said we had but few books. The town, however, owned a small library. When incorporated, it was named after Dr. Franklin, whose reputation was then not only at its zenith, but, like the sun over Gibeon, was standing still there. As an acknowledgment of the compliment, he offered them a bell for their church ; but after- wards, saying that, from what he had learned of the character of the people, he thought they would prefer sense to sound, he changed the LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 13 gift into a library. Though this library consisted of old histories and theologies, suited, perhaps, to the taste of the "conscript fathers " of the town, but miserably adapted to the " proscript" children, yet I wasted my youthful ardor upon its martial pages, and learned to glory in war, which both reason and conscience have since taught me to consider' almost universally a crime. Oh ! when will men learn to redeem that childhood in their offspring which was lost to themselves ? We watch for the seedtime for our fields, and improve it; but neglect the mind until midsummer or even autumn comes, when all (he actinism of the vernal sun of youth is gone. I have endeavored to do something to remedy this criminal defect. Had I the power, I would scatter libraries over the whole land, as the sower sows his wheat-field. More than *by toil, or by the privation of any natural taste, was the inward joy of my youth blighted by theological inculcations. The pastor of the church in Franklin was the somewhat celebrated Dr. Emmons, who not only preached to his people, but ruled them, for more than fifty years. He was an extra or hyper-Calvinist, — a man of pure intellect, whose logic was never softened in its severity by the infusion of any kindliness of sentiment. He expounded all the doctrines of total depravity, election, and reprobation, and not only the eternity, but the extremity, of hell-torments, unflinchingly and "in their most terrible significance; while he rarely if ever des- canted upon the joys of heaven, and never, to my recollection, upon the essential and necessary happiness of a virtuous life. Going to church on Sunday was a sort of religious ordinance in our family; and, during all my boyhood, I hardly ever remember staying at home. Hence, at ten years of age, I became familiar with the whole creed, and knew all the arts of theological fence by which objections to it were wont to be parried. It might be that I accepted the doctrines too literally, or did not temper them with the proper qualifications; but, in the way in which they came to my youthful mind, a certain number of souls were to be forever lost, and nothing — not powers, nor principalities, nor man, nor angel, nor Christ, nor the Holy Spirit, nay, not God himself— could save them ; for he had sworn, before time was, to get eternal glory out of their eternal torment. But perhaps I might not be one of the lost! But my little sister 14 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. might be, my mother might be, or others whom I loved ; and I felt, that, if they were in hell, it would make a hell of whatevci other part of the universe I might inhabit; for I could never get a glimpse of consolation from the idea that my own nature could be so trans- formed, and become so like what God's was said to be, that I could rejoice in their sufferings. Like all children, I believed what I was taught. To my vivid imagination, a physical hell was a living reality, as much so as though I could have heard the shrieks of the tormented, or stretched out my hand to grasp their burning souls, in a vain endeavor for their rescue. Such a faith spread a pall of blackness over the whole heavens, shutting out every beautiful and glorious thing; while be- yond that curtain of darkness I could see the bottomless and seeth- ing lake filled with torments, and hear the wailing and agony of its victims. I am sure I felt all this a thousand times more than my teachers did ; and is not this a warning to teachers ? Wnat we phrenologists call causality,—the faculty of mind by which we see effects in causes, and causes in effects, and invest the future with a present reality, — this faculty was always intensely active in my mind. Hence the doom of the judgment-day was ante- dated : the torments which, as the doctrine taught me, were to beo-in with death, began immediately; and each moment became a burning focus, on which were concentrated, as far as the finiteness of my nature would allow, the agonies of the coming eternity. Had there been any possibility of escape, could penance, fasting, self-inflicted wounds, or the pains of a thousand martyr-deaths, have averted the fate, my agony of apprehension would have been alle- viated ; but there, beyond effort, beyond virtue, beyond hope, was this irreversible decree of Jehovah, immutable, from everlasting to everlastino-. The judgment had been made up and entered upon the eternal record millions of years before we, who were judged by it, had been born ; and there sat the Omnipotent upon his throne, with eyes and heart of stone to guard it; and had all the beings in all the universe gathered themselves together before him to implore but the erasure of only a single name from the list of the doomed, their prayers would have been in vain. I shall not now enter into any theological disquisition on these LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 15 matters, infinitely momentous as they are. I shall not stop to in- quire into the soundness of these doctrines, or whether I held the truth in error ; my only object here being, according to your request, to speak of my youth biographically, or give you a sketch of some of my juvenile experiences. The consequences upon my mind and happiness were disastrous in the extreme. Often, on going to be^ at night, did the objects of the day and the faces of friends give place to a vision of the awful throne, the inexorable Judge, and the hapless myriads, among whom I often seemed to see those whom I loved best; and there I wept and sobbed until Nature found that counterfeit repose in exhaustion whose genuine reality she should have found in freedom from care and the spontaneous happiness of childhood. What seems most deplorable in the retrospect, all these fears and sufferings, springing from a belief in the immutability of the decrees that had been made, never prompted me to a single good action, or had the slightest efficacy in deterring me from a bad one. I remained in this condition of mind until I was twelve years of age. I remember the day, the hour, the place, the circumstances, as well as though the event had happened but yesterday, when, in an agony, of despair, I broke the spell that had bound me. From that day, I began to construct the theory of Christian ethics and doc- trine respecting virtue and vict, rewards and penalties, time and eternity, God and his providence, which, with such modifications as advancing age and a wider vision must impart, I still retain, and out of which my life has flowed. I have come round again to a belief in the eternity of rewards and punishments, as a fact neces- sarily resulting from the constitution of our nature ; but how infi- nitely different, in its effects upon conduct, character, and happiness, is this belief from that which blasted and consumed the joy of my childhood ! As to my early habits, whatever may have been my shortcomings, I can still say that I have always been exempt from what may be called common vices. I was never intoxicated in my life ; unless, perchance, with joy or anger. I never swore : indeed, profanity was always most disgusting and repulsive to me. And (I consider it always a climax) I never used the "vile weed" in any form. I early formed the resolution to be a slave to no habit. For the rest, 16 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. my public life is almost as well known to others as to myself; and, as it commonly happens to public men, " others know my motives a great deal better than I do." A recent letter from a friend, touching upon the same topic, deepens the impression just given : — Yes, it is true that Mr. Mann spoke to me often of his boy- hood, chiefly of its sorrows. One of these was the death of a brother, who was drowned at twelve years of age. He said he was a charming boy, and that his death immediately brought home to his hearf the terribleness of the theological views in which he was edu- cated. He had been in the habit of hearing logic chopped upon the scheme of the universe, the federation of the race in Adam, the plan of redemption by Christ's atonement, &c. ; and there was a certain entertainment to his mind in this intellectual gymnastic, so that he became a very expert theologue himself, and could refute the Arminian and Arian theories with great acumen. But there were certain things that did not feel good to his heart which he ,often heard from the pulpit; such as, that "the smoke of the damned was the enjoyment of the blessed," and "the punishment of the wicked one of the special glories of God." He had none of the canonical evidences of being in a state of grace himself: and a strange fascination used to impel h'nn, Sunday after Sunday, to find in Watts's hymn-book, and read over and over again, a certain verse, which must be eliminated from modern editions, for I cannot find it; but it depicted the desolation of a solitary soul in eternity, rudder- less and homeless. He had a strong impression, that, if he should die, he should per- sonate the "solitary soul" therein depicted. But when his darling brother died, having not yet experienced the orthodox form of con- version, his ao-onized heart stimulated his imagination to clothe it in his brother's form and feature. He thought he could see in his mother's face a despair beyond the grief of losing the mortal life of her son • and when, at the funeral, Dr. Emmons, instead of sug- gestino- a thought of a consoling character, improved the opportunity to address a crowd of young persons present on the topic of " dying unconverted," and he heard his mother groan, a crisis took place in LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 17 his experience, similar to that described in Mrs. H. B. Stowe's story of the "Minister's Wooing," when Mrs. Marvin hears of her son James' death, without knowing whether he was converted or not. His whole being rose up against the idea of such a cruel Creator, and declared hatred to him ! He would hate Infinite Malignity personi- fied, if he must suffer eternally in consequence. The childish image, familiar to his mind, of a crystal floor covered with angels and saints playing on harps and enjoying the fruits of the tree of life, in the New Jerusalem, as described in the book of Revelation,— under which scene, in full sight, was the hell so often emphatically described by Dr. Emmons, — recurred to his imagination ; and deli- berately, with all the tremendous force of his will, he chose to suffer with the latter, rather than make one with the selfish immortals who found happiness in witnessing torture. But to put himself at odds in this way with what he still thought was Infinite Power produced a fearful action upon his nerves. His imagination was possessed by the idea of a personal Devil, to whom he had no attractions, whatever was his repulsion from God ; and he was yet too young to get behind all these forms, in which the de- praved imagination of men had clothed the great realities of the spir- itual life. Nature seemed to him but the specious veil in which demons clothed themselves. He expected the foul Fiend to appear from behind every hedge and tree to carry him off. To escape from such misery, — which sometimes in the night amounted to such intensity that he saw fiends and other horrid shapes distinctly as with his bodily eyes, and was obliged to use the utmost force of bis will to keep from screaming, — he did what he could to divert himself with study; but his early tastes for investi- gating and experimenting in science were all repressed by the im- possibility of procuring books or any other materials to work upon. Still the fund of humor, the sparkling wit, which all his sorrows could never quench, and the childlike playfulness into which he always fell with children, as if it were his element, could not but have made him a charming, merry child; and I have heard from his elder as well as from his younger sister and playfellow that he was such. To me it was a marvel that so sensitive a boy, absolutely banished 2 18 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. from the bosom of a heavenly Father, grew up so sweet, so truth- ful, so faithful to the unknown God, whom he ignorantly worshipped, and who, unawares to himself, strengthened him for his protest against the popular theology. The Unitarian sect was nearly unknown, and " everywhere spoken against," at the time he went to college; and he did not go where it prevailed, but to Brown University, where, while he was a scholar, there was what is called a "revival of religion." He had now become acquainted with the classics, and had tegun to read history and general literature; and he accepted the Deism of Cicero, and began to feel that true religion was the cultivation of social duty, and to feed his heart and imagination on the idea of making a heaven of society around him, with a home of his own for the Holy of Holies; though, as he said, he was not without occasional anxious glances towards the future life, of which he felt that he knew nothing. The exercise of his great intellectual faculties, and of his pure and noble affections in philanthropy, gradually brought him into a health- ier atmosphere of feeling and thought; and at last his happy marriage seemed to justify God's creation. Such is the impression that he gave me of the general course of his experience, which I have expressed as well as I can. I did not know him until after he was a widower; and, in those first years of sorrow, all the gloom of his childhood returned upon him with terri- ble power. It was a relief to him to " Give sorrow words, Lest, whispering the o'erwrought heart, it break;" and in such conversations he would detail his early life. I think I then obtained the deepest impressions I ever received from any mor- tal that the soul is a child of God, and that virtue has no element of self-love or self-seeking in it. He was good, and was willing good to others, and striving to confer it, although his heart's utter- ance as for a brief moment was that of Jesus of Nazareth : " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? " I have, therefore, not been surprised, that since the stress of that bereavement grew lighter on his heart, and since lu found himself in a home, and LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 19 blessed with children, the radiance of religious light and lo\e has flowed from his lips; nor that in the hour of his death he should seem never to think of himself, and to say no word except to uplift others into partaking the life and beneficence of God. Nothing in his life was more eminently characteristic than just such a death. Yours, ----• But while somj of the circumstances of his early life seemed thus adverse, others were favorable to the ripen- ing of his strong yet gentle, brave yet tender, character. Perhaps they were all favorable ; for those which directly hindered his intellectual progress may have tended indi- rectly to bring out in him his strong views and purposes of reform. The true soul transmutes all circumstances: only inferior natures are crushed by them. In speaking of the influences which make a man a man, we must never lose sight of the truth, that only the highest natures are fully susceptible to the highest in- fluences. The same motives may be operating upon dif- ferent individuals ; but only the well-poised soul will respond to them generously and faithfully. Emerson has truly said, "He is great who is what he is from nature, and who never reminds us of others;" and again, -' Man is that noble endogenous plant which grows from within outward." In speaking of his youthful longing for more educa- tion, he once said to a friend, "I know not how it was: its motive never took the form of wealth or fame. It was rather an instinct which impelled towards knowledge, as that of migratory birds impels them northward in spring-time. All my boyish castles in the air had refer- ence to doing something for the benefit of mankind. The early precepts of benevolence, inculcated upon me by my parents, flowed out in this direction ; and I had a conviction that knowledge was my needed instrument." 20 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Reverence for knowledge as a moans of good, had, in- deed, prevailed in his father's family; and his only sur- viving sister, who devotes her life to more than one of the saddest charities of the world, basing her action upon both intellectual and moral culture, is but another proof of it. Without any pride of pedigree, the family felt that it had an honorable, because a virtuous ancestry. All its traditions were of integrity and honor. The privations incident to the early settlement and growth of the New- England Colonies, following the sacrifices that necessarily pertained to the Pilgrim enterprise, strengthened sterling virtues, and transmitted them as a rich inheritance. Stern qualities, such as endurance, perseverance, toiling energy, and the might of self-sacrifice, were mixed with the more gentle traits of family affection, and devotion to the sentiments which had induced the forefathers to leave home and luxury for conscience' sake. The subject of our Memoir inherited his share of all these. All the family labored together for the common support; and toil was considered honorable, although it was sometimes, of necessity, excessive. Horace had eaVned his school- books, when a child, by braiding straw; and the habit of depending solely upon himself for the gratification of all his wants became such a second nature with him, that to the last day of his life a pecuniary favor was a painful burden, which could only be eased by a full requital in kind. One of the maxims he wished to have inculcated upon his children was, that they should "always pay their own expenses," and thus be able always to assert themselves independently, -™ the first element of true manhood. To afford them the means to do this, he de- nied his own life every luxury, and coined his very brain, as it were, into money. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. * I A fine classical teacher at last crossed the young man's path, and a plan was formed by which he should pursue his studies. He prepared himself in six months from the time he began to study his Latin grammar, and en- tered the Sophomore class of Brown University in Sep- tember, 1816. From that strain upon his health, and the still harder labors of his college-life, he never recov- ered. The rest of his life was one long battle with ex- hausted energies ; but how valiantly he fought it! He struggled with it ignorantly at first, accomplishing all tasks as they presented themselves, until fairly laid^upon his bed with illness; and, after he had learned the theory and art of health, leaving no effort untried to redeem his own. Those who watched over him were obliged to reason with him, however, even in his advanced years, when he laid out too much work for his strength ; for he grew to be ashamed of ill health: and it must be con- fessed that he sometimes begged the question of duty to one's own health by saying that his life was not of so much consequence as the thing in hand to be accom- plished. Few young men leave home with so intense a sense of filial duty, or so thorough an acquaintance with mutual domestic sacrifices; and all his letters home breathe the spirit of devotion to his friends. Nor did any young man ever make smaller means answer his purposes. He did not complain of this, but often made comical repre- sentations of his pecuniary distresses. In a letter to his sister, written soon after entering col- lege, he says,— If the children of Israel were pressed for " gear" half so hard as I have been, I do not wonder they were willing to worship a golden calf. It is a long, long time since my last ninepence bade good-by to its brethren; and I suspect the last two parted on no 22 LTFE OF HORACE MANN. very friendly terms, for they have never since met together. Poor wretches! never did two souls stand in greater need of mutual support and consolation. . . . For several weeks past, I have been in a half-delirious state on account of receiving no intelligence from home; when this morning I met at the door of my boarding- house Mr. J. F. H-----, only two weeks from Franklin ! I would have shaken hands with the "foul fiend" himself if his last em- bassy had been to that place. For a good part of the time, 1 have been trying the experiment with respect to money which ended so tragically in the case of the old man's horse. I wonder you do not write. You seem to treat it as though it were ^task, like the pilgrimage to Mecca, and not to be performed but once in a lifetime. Perhaps you will say you have nothing to write about. Write about any thing. The whole universe is before you, and offers itself to your selection. Dr. Middleton wrote an octavo volume of seven or eight hundred pages on a Greek article, which article consisted of one syllable, which syllable consisted of one letter'; and though I think such overflowing fecundity is not to be approved of, yet it cannot be so reprehensible as this lockjaw silence of yours. In your next letter, put in some sentences of mother's, just as she spoke them: let her say something to me, even if it be a repetition of those old saws, — I mean if it be a repetition of her good motherly advice and direction all about cor- rect character, and proper behavior, and straight-forward, narrow- path conduct, such as young Timothy's in the primer. You know the sublime couplet, and the elegant wood-cut representing the whole affair in the margin. But I ought not to speak of any sub- ject, which brings my mother's image to my mind, in any strain of levity. She deserves my love for her excellences, and my grati- tude for the thousand nameless kindnesses which she has ever, in I he fulness of parental affection, bestowed upon me. How often have I traced her features in that incomparable description of Irving's of the Widow and her Son : " Oh, there is an endurin"- tenderness in the love of a mother to her son ! " &c. Again, in allusion to his sister's attendance upon her mother during a long illness: — LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 23 I wish you to be careful of your health; but, as far as that will permit, continue to go on in the discharge of every office of filial tenderness and love. Never did a parent more richly deserve this requital. The ties of nature, the bonds of consanguinity, she has strengthened by all the innumerable and nameless deeds of mater- nal kindness and solicitude. Others may have been more ostenta- tious of their anxiety, may have spent more time in useless wishes or unavailing prayers, because it is much easier to desire and praj an hour that one may receive assistance, than to labor half that time to give it; but she has tested the sincerity of her affection by ac- tive and unceasing beneficence. When we have counted all her hours of care for us, and have cared as long and as deeply for her; when we have numbered all her days of toil, and have toiled aa long; then, and not till then, can we commence the work of char- ity to her. Many years after, writing to a friend during an alarm- ing illness of his mother, he says, — Principle, duty, gratitude, affection, have bound me so closely to that parent whom#done Heaven has spared me, that she seems to me rather a portion of my own existence than a separate and inde- pendent being. I can conceive no emotions more pure, more holy, more like those which glow in the bosom of a perfected being, than those which a virtuous son must feel towards an affectionate mother. She has little means of rendering him assistance in his projects of aggrandizement, or in the walks of ambition ; so that his feelings are uncontaminated with any of those earth-born passions that sometimes mingle their alloy with his other attachments. How dif- ferent is the regard which springs from benefits which we hope here- after to enjoy, from that which arises from services rendered and kindnesses bestowed even before we were capable of knowing their value! It is this higher sentiment that a mother challenges in a son. For myself, I can truly say that the strongest and most abid- ing incentives to excellence, by which I was ever animated, sprang from that look of solicitude and hope, that heavenly expression of maternal tenderness, when, without the utterance of a single word, my mother has looked into my face, and silently told me that 24 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. my life was freighted with a twofold being, for it bore her destiny as well as my own. And as truly can I say that the most exqui- site delight that ever thrilled me was, when some flattering rumor of myself had found its way to her ear, to mark her readier smile, her lighter step, her disproportionate encomiums on things of trivial value, when I was secretly conscious that her altered mien was caused by the fountains of pleasure that were pouring their sweet waters over her heart. His fears for the life of his mother were not realized at that time. This beloved parent lived many years longer to bless him and to be blessed by him. How radiant was her joy in his successes, not in the paths of ambition only, but of duty! When he achieved good for others, how her heart " ran o'er with bliss " ! for she knew the high motives, the beneficent nature, from which his ac- tion sprang. Years after her death, when he was moved to tears by a testimonial of respect and affectionate re- gard for high services he had rendered #o his State and to the world, how fervently he wished his mother had lived to enjoy it! How keen was his remembrance of her maternal joys ! This trait of filial piety is not dwelt upon here because it is exceptional, but simply because it was a trait in Mr. Mann's character. Good and devoted mothers are not so rare, that a great proportion of men who read this record of a son's affection will find it difficult to recognize in their own hearts the truth of the picture; but it is pleas- ing to know that the subject of our contemplation lost nothing out of his life from a neglect of or indifference to parental love, and that his appreciation of it was never wanting from his boyhood up. From the home and good influences of this excellent mother, whose character he learned to reverence more and more as he grew older, and where, if he had not LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 40 variety and means of great intellectual culuire, he had the advantage of being kept in ignorance of much of the evil that is in the world during those years in which the young need to be guided over the quicksands of passion, and pointed to the heights of principle, and to the example of the great and good who have resisted temptation,—and who can doubt that the longer the youth- ful faith in goodness is fed by the ideal, the better ? — Mr. Mann passed into the charmed circle of another holy fireside, with which many years of his future life were to be linked, and under whose influence his life-purposes grew and were matured. It was during his college-life in Brown University that he became acquainted with the lady whom he married long afterward, the daughter of the excellent President of that institution. And here he slaked his burning thirst for knowledge at every fountain to which he could gain access. It is difficult for the young of the present time to estimate the advantages they enjoy in comparison with those of the generation to which Mr. Mann belonged. The young of this period begin where the young of that period arrived only after long study; for the knowledge of a thousand things then unknown is in the very air we breathe, and the very figures of daily speech are predicated upon sci- entific facts then sealed to most men. Freedom of thought is following swiftly upon the traces of improved scientific knowledge, and a giant stride is now making by the nations that have long slumbered. The great dead may almost be expected to walk amongst us to give an earnest of their joy at the awakening to which they in their earthly lives contributed. Judge Barton, of Worcester, Mass., writes of him at this period: — My acquaintance with Mr. Mann commenced in Providence in 26 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. the fall of 1816. Wo then both < n;ered the sophomore class of Brown University, and soon contracted a friendship, which, on my part certainly, continued during his life. During the last two years of our college-life wo were chums, occupying room No. — in Uni- versity Hall. We were both of mature, and I believe about the same, age. Having been brought up in the country (he in Franklin, and I in Oxford, Mass.), it was perhaps rather due to our early education .than otherwise that the dissipations of neither the college nor the city had any controlling attractions for us. During the three years of our college-life, I recollect not a single instance of impropriety on his part. Perhaps I ought to confess one college sin, if sin it be deemed. The students had long been in the habit of celebrating the Fourth of July in the chapel. In our junior or senior year, arrangements were made for the accustomed celebration. The college govern- ment forbade it. A majority of the students went for resisting the government. I went for loyalty. But my chum, being a little the more impulsive, and having been chosen the orator for the occasion, went for independence and the celebration of it. The procession was formed in the college-yard. I concluded, that, if there must be rebellion, I had better rebel against the college government than against the majority of my fellow-students. I took the front rank in the procession ; helped to open the chapel door; and chum went in, and delivered his oration amidst great applause. A trifling fine was imposed upon him; but he lost no credit with either the students or the government. I believe your honored husband afterwards vindi- cated the principles of subordination in college government. But I trust that our Fourth-of-July rebellion never gave him any serious remorse of conscience: it certainly never troubled mine. There are cases when generous sentiment pleads strongly for an amnesty of the fault of violating strict discipline. Notwithstanding Mr. Mann entered college under the disadvan- tage of going into an advanced class, he soon assumed the first place in it. He had been remarkably well fitted in the languages under an instructor of some note; I think, by the name of Barrett. I never heard a student translate the Greek and Roman classics with grealer facility, accuracy, and elegance. As we should expect, ho LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 27 was a fine writer; and, as we should not expect from that circum- stance, he also excelled in the exact sciences. My chum possessed qualities of a high order. By this means he attracted the attention and secured the respect, not only of the mem- bers of our own class, but of members of the other classes in col- lege. Our room was the centre of much good company, except in study-hours; and I sometimes almost wished that I had not so in- teresting and attractive a room-mate. But I felt much more than compensated by his intelligence, and by the fact that the company his genial manners invited were from amongst the best young men in the college. In connection with Mr. Mann, I always call to mind the late Rev. George Fisher of Harvard ; a very respectable clergyman, who died a short time before him. He had been a member of the col- lege a year before we entered ; was then deservedly the candidate for the first part in the class, but eventually received the second part, while Mr. Mann had the first. You will excuse me for saying that I was not a competitor for either of these parts, so called ; having in the space of nine months fitted for an advanced standing of one year in college, and being quite content with a position next subordinate to that of my friends. The religious views of your husband and Fisher were not quite coincident ;°and their earnest, but I believe always courteous, dis- putes afforded much amusement, and perhaps some edification, to their fellow-students. I love to think of both of them as now ten- ants of the same happy land ; and I trust they have learned that men may enter it through different channels of faith, provided that, in time, they avoid the broad way that leads to death. After we graduated in 1819, our course diverged somewhat. Mr. Mar.n remained for some time at the college as tutor; while I pur- sued my professional studies principally in Massachusetts, at the Cambridge Law School. We met first in public life in our State Legislature in 1830; Mr. Mann as representative of the town of Dedham, and mvself of the town of Oxford. He had been a mem- ber of the Legislature before I met him there, and remained some time after I left The Senate in 1884. He was President of the Senate in 1836. I found he enjoyed the same consideration and respect in 28 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. the Legislature which was always accorded to him in the various public positions he occupied. We always agreed in our views as to public measures, and frequently co-operated in the committee-room, as well as in the ordinary routine of legislation. Among the most important measures that we instituted was the resolution of 1832 for a revision of the General Statutes of the Commonwealth. The resolution will be found in my handwriting: but Mr. Mann greatly aided in its passage; and, after the revision had been made, he, with our learned friend Judge Metcalf, supervised the publication of the work in 1836. Another and most beneficent subject of legislation, of which, as far as I know, Mr. Mann was the sole originator, is the State Luna- tic Hospital. I learn with much satisfaction that his friends are about to erect to his memory a bronze statue in front of the State House in Boston. That is well. But we have, my dear madam, in Worces- ter, a monument to his memory, literally " cere per-ennius," —our State Lunatic Hospital, — valuable not only in itself, but as the parent of those beneficent institutions throughout the country. I might speak of your husband's valuable services as Secretary of the Board of Education in this State; but those are well known to you and to all. I knew, if I could say any thing of interest to you, it must result from my early and intimate association with him in college-life. It is a green spot in my recollection, saddened, indeed, by the reflection that my friend is takeu away before me, in the midst of his life's labor and usefulness. I shall always remain Yours very truly and respectfully, IRA M. BARTON. Mr. Mann took the " First Part," as it is called, when he graduated. The subject of his oration was the "Pro- gressive Character of the Human Race." This was his favorite theme all through life, the basis of all his action in education and in politics. Another youthful produc- tion, of which no copy can now be found, was upon "The Duty of every American, to Posterity." It is said by one LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 29 who remembers it, that he treated the subject with a depth of insight and breadth of comprehension that go far to elucidate the meaning of the Hebrew prophet, who en- titled the Ideal Man he saw in the future the "Father of Ages." He left college to enter the office of Hon. J. J. Fiske of Wrentham, Mass.; but was soon invited back to Brown University as tutor of Latin and Greek, where he was able to review carefully his classical studies and their collateral literature. He was very successful as teacher; noted for his fidelity and thoroughness, and the moral stimulus he gave to the pupils under his care. He would have been glad to devote some time to scien- tific study, as his personal interest in it led him to see its superior advantages in the culture of the whole man ; but facilities for it, so abundant now, were wanting then, and necessity obliged him to press on to the acquirement of a profession. Mr. Mann had taken the highest honors of the college, and had been eminently successful as tutor; but, when he left the place where he had been so fortunate and so happy, more grateful to him than any honors were the tears shed at parting by his lovely young friend, who afterwards became his wife. Dr. Messer had soon marked him as a favorite, and admitted him to his domestic circle. His daughter was still but a child : but Mr. Mann carried her in his heart for the next ten years; and, as she grew and expanded into the most engaging womanhood, — for others as well as himself testify to her rare beauty of mind and character, — all his conceptions of excellence and all his hopes of happiness became identified with her image. What condition of the human soul is so exalted as that in which the love, not merely of excellence, but of the excellent, purifies every sentiment, and rallies every power 30 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. co make it worthy to love and to inspire love ? What better guard - angelic over the character of a young man, especially over one already bent upon a noble ca- reer? Such it was to him: and many of the finer traits of his character were doubtless confirmed by this en- nobling and purifying influence ; for his native earnestness made it impossible for him to love lightly. The painful modesty which was one of his distinguishing traits, and which always, even after all his successes in life, made it so difficult for him to realize that he was worthy the high- est estimation of his friends, rendered that period of his life one of intense anxiety as well as aspiration ; and all tended to make the short period of his domestic happiness a consuming fire, whose extinction nearly deprived him of life and reason. In 1821, Mr. Mann entered the Law School at Litch- field, presided over by the late Judge Gould. A letter from J. W. Scott, Esq., now of Toledo, 0., though bearing a recent date, is here given because it re- fers to that period: — __ __ „, Castleton, N.Y. My dear Mrs. Mann, — ... I first saw Mr. Mann in the summer of 1822, in the lecture- room of Judge Gould, at Litchfield, Conn. The law-school of Judr>-e Gould was then in the zenith of its prosperity, having an attendance of about thirty students. It was with a lively interest that I took my first observation of the young gentlemen with whom I expected to associate through a course of lectures. With no acquaintance or knowledge of any of the members, I took an interest in forming a judgment of their various characters and their comparative mental power by inspecting their persons. Phrenology had not then been taught in this country, and physiognomy was depended upon to show forth to the eye the characteristics of the person. Either through defect of my knowledge of it, or imperfection of the science, the conclusions deduced by me LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 31 were quite incorrect. Mr. Mann's massive brow and high arching head did not then tell me what a great intellect was indicated ; but the mild bright eye, and the pleasant expression of the eloquent mouth, told of geniality and mirthfulness. It was therefore easy to believe what was told me by the students, that he -fas the best fellow and the best wit in the oflice ; but not before I formed his acquaintance was it so credible to me (what I was also told) that he was the best whist-player, the best scholar, and the best lawyer of the school. Several of the students had been admitted to the bar, and com- menced practice before coming to Litchfield ; and others had possessed superior advantages to obtain law knowledge, and had brought with them no little proficiency in the science. Our lecturer, Judge Gould, was, ex officio, the bench of our moot court: the next ofiice, that of attorney-general, was elective by the students. Mr. Mann bad been elected to that ofiice before my arrival. It was not until near the close of the season that I formed much personal acquaintance with him. I think our first intimacy was formed in the room of our fellow-student, James Sul- livan of Boston, who was confined several weeks by acute inflamma- tion of his eyes. The room of suffering was always, I believe, at- tractive to Mr. Mann; and Mr. Sullivan, by his excellent qualities, was especially entitled to sympathy and aid from all. In our moot courts, held weekly, the question of law to be discussed was pro- posed, the preceding week, by Judge Gould; and four students, two on each side, were detailed to discuss it; the judge, at the close of the arguments, summing up and giving the grounds of his judgment at length. The arguments of Mr. Mann were distinguished for the clearness — I might almost say the trans- parency — of the distinctions, and the fulness and pertinency of the analogies brought to the support of his position. On on& occasion, when the side he sustained was opposed to the decision of the judge previously written out, it was the general opinion of the school that Mr. M. made out the best case. And of this opinion seemed to be the judge; for, after reading the arguments to sustain his decision, he proceeded to reply to some of the points of Mr. 32 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Mann, and, as we thought, with some exhibition of improper feel- ing or wounded self-esteem. Mr. Mann's mind was at this time, I think, more intensely en- gaged in metaphysical investigation than on any other subject; Brown being his favorite author. I parted from Mr. Mann at Litchfield, with the full conviction that his was to be one of the great names of our time, whether his clear and fertile intellect should confine itself— as was not probable — to the law, or to any other one department of human knowledge. The only drawback to the realization of such a destiny seemed to be the lack of physical vigor compared with the immense develop- ment of his nervous system, especially his cerebral organs. His rich nervous temperament had, however, something of that wiry na- ture (such as I have heard Mr. Mann attribute to Mr. Choate) which gave the muscular and vital functions, as well as the mental, great capacity for endurance. & r J J. SCOTT. Mr. Scott did not understand the theory of tempera- ments precisely as Mr. Mann and other modern physiolo- gists do. Mr. Choate's temperament was undoubtedly a fibrous one, the most enduring and resisting of all ; but Mr. Mann's endurance came from the force of his will, and was subject to terrible revulsions. He could not, like a man of fibrous temperament, turn from one long-sus- tained effort to another, and thus find rest; but utter prostration followed over-exertion, and many times in his life he has risen from such falls because his will never yielded the point. But this could not last always. Phy- siologists have assured him that there was but one mode of recovery for him under such circumstances. The only excesses he ever committed were those of brain-work; and sleep, not exercise, was his only restorative. After leaving Litchfield, Mr. Mann went into the office of the Hon. James Richardson, of Dedham ; and was ad- mitted to the Norfolk bar in December, 1823. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 33 He had studied law, as he did every thing else, exhaus- tively, and worked thenceforth eighteen hours a day. Mr. Livingston ably describes his " forensic practice " in these words: — We believe the records of the courts will show, that, during the fourteen years of his forensic practice, he gained at least four out of five of all the contested cases in which he was engaged. The inflexible rule of his professional life was, never to undertake a case that he did not believe to be right. He held that an advocate loses his highest power when he loses the ever-conscious conviction that he is contending for the truth ; that though the fees or fame may be a stimulus, yet that a conviction of being right is itself creative of power, and renders its possessor more than a match for antagonists otherwise greatly his superior. He used to say that in this con- scious conviction of right there was a magnetism; and he only wanted an opportunity to be put in communication with a jury in order to impregnate them with his own belief. Beyond this, his aim always was, before leaving any head or topic in his argument, to condense its whole force into a vivid epigrammatic point, which the jury could not help remembering when they got into the jury-room ; and, by graphic illustration and simile, to fasten pictures upon their minds, which they would retain and reproduce after abstruse argu- ments were forgotten. He endeavored to give to each one of the jurors something to be " quoted " on his side, when they retired for consultation. He argued his cases as though he were in the jury- room itself, taking part in the deliberations that were to be held there. From the confidence in his honesty, and those pictures with which he filled the air of the jury-room, came his uncommon suc- cess. In 1824, he was invited by the citizens of Dedham to deliver a fourth-of-July oration; and it was of this pro- duction that Mr. John Quincy Adams used such warm words of confidence as to his future career. In public life he was never a partisan ; and therefore, 3 34 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. though respected, could hardly be called popular. Nor did he ever let his feelings about men influence his pub- lic action. He advocated the right measures, and never allowed himself to be approached by motives of expedi- ency ; though, with all his ardor, he was eminently pru- dent and cautious. When State representative, to which office he was elected in 1827, his first speech was in de- fence of religious liberty, in opposition to a scheme by which close corporations could secure the income of given property forever to the support of particular creeds. His success was consummate: the bill was rejected ; and no similar attempt was ever after made in Massachusetts. One of the first, if not the first, legislative speeches ever printed in the United States in favor of railroads, was made by him; and his whole public career of that period was marked by a devotion to the interests of public char- ities, of education, and of civil, political, and religious liberty, temperance, and public morals of every descrip- tion. Mr. Livingston has ably described these labors in detail. No one who watched them, or carefully reviews them, can fail to see what a mighty power one man can exercise if actuated by noble motives, and with the con- scientious feeling that he ought to do every thing he can which the powers he has been gifted with will enable him to do. Worldly ambition is an immense incentive to activity ; but the activity so inspired does not run in the channel of love for the ignorant, the needy, and the op- pressed. The patient, arduous labors which Mr. Mann performed in those years can never be estimated in the courts below ; but they made him a world-moving power, and gained for future spheres of action a mass of experi- ence and observation, which illuminated and indeed light- ened his subsequent career, enabling him to accomplish that which would otherwise have been impossible. LirE OF HORACE MANN. 35 Mr. Mann was not married until he had attained some eminence in his profession and in public life, paid the debts he had incurred for his education, and acquired a small competence. This he might have secured earlier, by his power at the bar, if he had yielded to the tempta- tion the profession of the law holds out to the unworthy, — the temptation to defend the wrong. No lawyers are so popular with rogues — probably no lawyers receive such high fees from that class of men whose characters make the enactment of human laws necessary—as those who are facile upon this point. But Mr. Mann preferred to wait for his domestic happiness to yielding to great temptations that were offered to him. He had adopted the principle, from the beginning, never to put himself on the unjust side of any cause, even for intellectual glad- iatorship and practice. The young who have been under his instruction and influence will remember how earnestly he inculcated upon them this duty to them- selves. Of Mr. Mann's marriage, and life in Dedham, an inti- mate friend of himself and wife writes: — How brilliant he was in general conversation! with such sparkling repartee, such gushing wit, such a merry laugh, but never any non- sense. His droll sayings could never be recalled without exciting a hearty laugh at their originality. Even after the long life that has passed over me since those.days of my youth, they are often sug- gested to my thoughts; but I do not laugh now. His originality was so refreshing, so exciting, because he treated the most trifling subjects in a manner peculiar to himself. And then how much power he had of drawing out other minds! The timid ones, who usually hardly dared express themselves on grave and weighty topics, would rise from a tete-a-tete with him, wondering at the amount of talent, thought, and feeling he had opened, and the chord of sympathy he had touched. He was a radiant m m then ; perhaps more so in the spright- 36 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. liness and genuine mirthfulness of his nature than after the blight of sorrow fell so heavily upon him. In more intimate intercourse, in which his intellectual points were brought out, in the interchange of ideas and emotions suggested by mutual literary pursuits, we be- came cognizant of all the finer traits of his nature, as well as of the strong and brilliant ones. His exquisite tenderness and care for the feelings of others; his delicate appreciation of woman's nature, and his estimate of her capabilities, at the same time that he shrank from any assumption, on her part, of the place in social life for which she was by nature, and the evident design of Providence, unfitted; his love, too, for the beautiful; his quick eye for it in nature and art, in the inmost working of the human soul, and in its outward developments; ami the truth and honor and disinterestedness and earnestness of his whole character, with his warmth of heart, and his love of his race, and the intensity which was so marked in every thing which he did and said, made themselves very apparent in famil- iar and easy talk on every imaginable topic. When in his intercourse with men, politically and otherwise, other aspects of his character were seen, and his intense expression of his sentiments was sometimes thought to be bitter and sarcastic and exaggerated, I always felt and said that those who so regarded him did not know what was in him. His was too strong a nature not to come sometimes in collision with the opinions and prejudices, perhaps with the principles, of other individuals, by whom, consequently, his true character could not be appreciated. When I knew his wife personally (I had long known her through him), I was7 indeed rejoiced that such an angelic being had been created to be his comfort, solace, joy, and happiness. She was ex- tremely delicate in health, and called forth the tenderest care. This fostering, protecting, caressing care, she had, of course, in perfection. It was expressed in every tone of his voice when he addressed her. It seemed as if she were too ethereal to dwell long on earth, and was only permitted to taste of earth's most perfect bliss, and then was taken to her heavenly home. Then came that sundering which seemed so dark and mysterious, and which it required so much faith to acquiesce in. Was it necessary that his own heart should be LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 37 broken before he could perform the work that was allotted to him ? His most intimate letters of that period, which cannot be published, show with what a deep sense of responsibility and with what exalted aims he made that new home, — every such new home being a new test on earth of man's capacity for improvement. All his arduous labors were lightened by his young wife's sympathy, and his plans for the amelioration of the woes of society quickened and widened by her aid and approval; for, though very young, he found in her not only all the womanly purity and sweetness that he had expected, but a wisdom and humanity rare at any age. And her religion was the breath of life: its mien was rejoicing and hopeful, and illumined instead of darkening life. His short domestic happiness was to him the first per- fect proof of the goodness and benignity of God; but it was very brief. A little less than two years comprised the whole of their married life. Her delicate health had always given him great anxiety, and the sufferings of her last illness were very severe, but borne with such fortitude that he was not aware of its dangerous nature. She died in a sudden access of delirium, while he was watching by her side alone, with no one within call. The terrors of that dreadful night, spent alone with the dead, where he was found nearly insensible in the morning, revisited him with fearful power for many years at each recurring anniversary, and were never wholly dispelled. In the season of grief which followed, the shadows of his early creed returned upon him, and darkened his soul; for he could not reason then. When we suffer, no less than in the hour of death, we cannot go to find our religion: it must find us, and save us. 38 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. A few years afterwards, he wrote to a friend to whom he always loved to speak of his beloved wife : — I spent the last Sabbath in Providence ; and when I visited the spot which had been to me, as it were, the central point of the universe, and spoke the name of her who was once so quick to hear every sound of my voice, but who never will answer it again upon earth, I think I was able to realize more fully than I had ever done before, that what I loved was not there ! But what I still want is to be intimately penetrated with the feeling that she is in some region of blessedness. Were this a part of my consciousness, as the idea of our own existence is a part of our consciousness, whenever we reflect upon the things in which we have been engaged, I think I should soon find relief. It was on this account that I was more affected by that sermon of Dr. Channing's than by any thing I have ever heard before. And again : — Let me assure you that you have not pained me by adverting to a subject, which, as you truly suppose, does engross all my mind and heart, and forms the melancholy tissue of my life. My soul has gone over to the contemplation of one theme. Amid the current of conversation, in social intercourse or the avocations of business, in the daily walk of life, it is never but half forgotten; and the sight of an object, the utterance of a word, the tone of a voice, re-opens upon me the mournful scene, and spreads around me, with electric quickness, a world of gloom. Perhaps even a nature compose 1 of affection like yours cannot fully comprehend the condition of being through which I have passed. During that period, when, for me, there was a light upon earth brighter than any light of the sun, and a voice sweeter than any of Nature's harmonies, I did not think but that the happiness which was boundless in present enjoyment would be perpetual in duration. Do not blame my ungrateful heart for not looking beyond the boon with which Heaven had blessed me; for you know not the potency of that enchantment. My life went out of myself. One after another, the feelings which had before been fastened upon other objects loosened their strong grasp, and LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 39 went to dwell and rejoice in the sanctuary of her holy and beautiful nature. Ambition forgot the applause of the world for the more precious gratulations of that approving voice. Joy ceased its quests abroad; for at home there was an exhaustless fountain to slake its renewing thirst. There imagination built her palaces, and garnered her choicest treasures. She, too, supplied me with new strength for toil, and new motives for excellence. Within her influence there could be no contest for sordid passions or degrading appetites; for she sent a divine and overmastering strength into every generous sentiment, which I cannot describe. She purified my conceptions of purity, and beautified the ideal of every excellence. I never knew her to express a selfish or an envious thought; nor do I believe that the type of one was ever admitted to disturb the peacefulness of her bosom. Yet, in the passionate love she inspired, there was nothing of oblivion of the rest of mankind. Her teachings did not make one love others less, but differently and more aboundingly. Her sym- pathy with others' pain seemed to be quicker and stronger than the sensation of her own; and, with a sensibility that would sigh at a crushed flower, there was a spirit of endurance that would uphold a martyr. There was in her breast no scorn of vice, but a wonder and amazement that it could exist. To her it seemed almost a mystery ; and, though she comprehended its deformity, it was more in pity than in indignation that she regarded it: but that hallowed joy with which she contemplated whatever tended to ameliorate the condition of mankind, to save them from pain or rescue them from guilt, was, in its manifestations, more like a vision from a brighter world, a divine illumination, than like the earthly sentiment of humanity. But I must forbear; for I should never end were I to depict that revelation of moral beauties which beamed from her daily life, or attempt to describe that grace of sentiment, that love- liness of feeling, which played perpetually, like lambent flame, around the solid adamant of her virtues. It was not long after Mr. Mann's removal from Dedham to Boston in 1833, a change which was brought about by friends who loved him, and felt that it was essential to his continued life and usefulness, that distressing circum- 40 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. stances swept from him the hard-earned fruits of years of toil, for which he had worked sixteen hours a day in his profession, and subjected him to many privations of common comforts that seemed necessary to his health, then very precarious. In the midst of this misfortune occurred the death of his early and long-tried friend, Silas Holbrook. He wrote to a friend, of this event: — A denser shade of gloom has come over the earth ; and my faint heart bleeds anew. There is no man living who loved me so well as my friend Holbrook. I have a thousand times comforted myself with the thought, that if, amid the tempests of life, my character was lost overboard, there was one man who would plunge in to save it. As a friend, it is not enough to say of him, he was true : he was truth. At the time when the whole earth became to me a scene of desolation, he was the first man that came to me across its boundless wastes to support and uphold me. I might never have again rec- ognized Nature, or renewed my companionship with men, had he not won me back. Why should he be taken, and I left? He who rejoiced and improved every one here who knew him is snatched away, and my sentence of exile and banishment is prolonged. Where now is my best friend? What and whom has he seen? These thoughts overwhelm me; and I can only say, that would to Heaven I were as ready as I am willing to follow him ! The death of Dr. Messer soon followed, of which he wrote to the same friend: — Never was a more firmly linked circle-broken. There was in that family such an intercommunity of thought and feeling, that the result could never be otherwise expressed than by absolute unity. Distrust was never banished from the house, for it never entered it. There was, of course, a common consciousness, and a desire for each other's welfare possessed all the energy of self-love with the self-sacrifice of disinterested affection. Of the effect of bereave- ment in such a family there can be no description. I looked upon LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 41 the dead with envy, and pitied the living because they still lived. I administered consolations which I did not feel. I can speak to the heart-broken in language they can understand : I am versed in every dialect of sorrow. I know how this flattered and extolled world looks when it is seen from the side of the grave into which all its glory and beauty have gone down. Dr. Messer, certainly, had inspired his children with the most entire confidence : he never inflicted upon them in his daily admin- istrations any painful sensations or emotions; and hence to hear him, and see him, and obey him, became associated with the idea of gratification ; and pleasure and duty so harmonized, that they never knew from which motive they were acting. How rare it is to find that attachment which comes only from habits of agreeable inter- course, where no annoying or irritating acts are committed on either side, and where it has become a greater pleasure to yield or to har- monize than to be gratified by that which is displeasing to another ! A lovely mother also sanctified that home, of whom he said, that he never heard from her the expression of any other than a beautiful sentiment. Her love for him was so true, that there was always ample room in her heart for all that he loved and all that was his. When his own mother died, he wrote : — A memory full of proofs of the purest, strongest, wisest love is all that is left to me upon earth of a mother. So far as it regards this world, it is retrospection only in which I shall behold her, — the retrospection of a life in which she has always sought to make my comfort paramount to her own, and, amidst transient and casual cir- cumstances, has invariably kept her eye fixed upon my highest wel- fare. Death will not sanctify any of her precepts, her wise and judi- cious counsels; for they were sanctified and hallowed before. It is now years since I have felt as though I were on the isthmus between time and eternity. I have long ago left the earth, but have not yet entered the world beyond it. Standing in this solitude be- tween worlds, my mother has passed by me; and how much the bal- ance of the universe has changed! What weight of treasure is added 42 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. to the scale of the future ! A wife and a mother; and such a wife ! In that heavenly world I cannot conceive of her lips as glowing with any diviner smile, nor her forehead as starred with a more glorious beauty. And such a mother! Were she now to return to earth, how, more devotedly than she has done, could she toil for the welfare of her children ? I go to-morrow morning to perform the last rites, and probably I am to have a day, the like of which will never come to me again. Mr. Mann was subsequently associated with many minds whose high moral views coincided with his own, and whose happier religious associations aided his own efforts to put himself more in harmony with the universe, whose adaptations to the soul of man had been again lost sight of by his crushing sorrow. His quick sensibility to the sufferings of others, sharpened by his own grief, made him look upon life at that time as only a heritage of woe, to quote one of his own expressions. His native tender- ness of heart had shown him before, that life becomes such to all who do not live conformably to the laws of their being; but he was now led to search more deeply into the remedies for it. For a long time, he felt as if motive itself were paralyzed: but others who saw his life, and its continued devotion to the highest aims and needs of humanity, saw that he was only temporarily be- numbed ; and his social and genial nature, at happy firesides where childhood and youth always recognized their friend, and where parents prized his influence, grad- ually became restored to cheerfulness. He oiten left such scenes abruptly when the contrast with his own lonely abode was felt too keenly ; but he returned to them again, driven from his solitude by its terrors. He was little interested in the exciting scenes of city life, where frivolity often reigns paramount; but he prized highly the pleasures of intercourse with cultivated minds. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 43 Mere literary characters, who had no deep interest in ame- liorating the evils of society, attracted him little. A cer- tain golden thread of benevolence must be found in the texture of every work of art or literature, or it failed of an effect upon him ; and it even seemed to him a per- verted use of Heaven-bestowed powers. Where his heart did not find moral beauty, the external semblance was an empty shell. Perhaps he did not separate the work from its author sufficiently; for men " build better than they know," as our great poet tells us: but to him the work was vitiated if it did not spring from a pure source. He loved passionately the music of the human voice ; but he often said, " It did not touch me : there was no benevo- lence in it." This peculiar criticism was always his test, and no instrumental music ever pleased him that did not touch tender chords of feeling. He used to say of him- self, that he was born to sing; but the long repression of that as well as of every other artistic tendency left him only the power to enjoy, not execute. Music with ap- propriate words was his delight; but there were times when he could bear only the music, without the utterance of the sentiment in language. When he returned to the world, it was rather as a spectator than a participator in its ordinary pleasures: but, baptized in the divine flame which sorrow lights in the soul, he was ready to do all he could to supply its needs ; and it seemed to others that the period had passed when an unworthy thought or motive could influence him. His habits of indefatigable, inevitable labor stood him in excellent stead then. Outward helps came to him from such souls as Dr. Channing's, Rev. E. Taylor's, Mr. J. Phillips's, Dr. George Combe's. Nothing could be more different than the modes in which the liberality of Dr. Channing and Mr. 44 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Taylor had been nurtured. One was born into as dark a faith as Mr. Mann himself, and had the misfortune, like himself, to hear the doctrine preached by a powerful ora- tor. Dr. Hopkins was to Dr. Channing's youth much such an evil genius as Dr. Emmons was to Mr. Mann's: but other influences were favorable to the emancipation of Dr. Channing's mind ; and by the help of these, and of the highest culture, he had thought himself into the happiest confidence in the divinity of human nature. Mr. Taylor's youth was spent roughly, and reckless of human creeds. Later in life, he fell among uncultured enthusiasts, whose hearty religious enthusiasm he shared, but whose bigotry and superstition he shed as the cater- pillar sheds the skin from which it soars into life and light and beauty. Bigotry could not retain or contain the soul of " Father Taylor," as his sailor audience affec- tionately call him. Where he saw fidelity to duty, love to man, allegiance to God, he gave his great heart. He recognized the tie which binds man to God even in the humblest form of piety in the simple and ignorant, and no less in those who acknowledged it amidst the errors and tyranny of human creeds. He knew the differ- ence, and sharply discriminated between religion and theology. The cordial love and sympathy between these two great men, who took the deepest interest in Mr. Mann, and saw his value to humanity, gave the latter a practical assur- ance of freedom from bigotry, which opened his heart to both ; and he drew from their full urns the balm of conso- lation which strengthened his failing steps. They deep- ened his favorite thought, that love to man is the best test of love to God, and must precede it. Dr. S. G. Howe was an object of very tender affection to him; and the reciprocation of the feeling was ever one LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 45 of his greatest enjoyments. The same uncompromising devotion to the great causes they together promoted strengthened this friendship. Both were disinterestedly benevolent, forgetful of self in duty, energetic and prompt in action, able to comprehend and act upon prin- ciple, and agreed that education must underlie all re- forms. Later in point of time, the Hon. Charles Sumner en- deared himself to Mr. Mann by striking into the same vein of love of freedom, and unswerving allegiance to a high sense of duty. When Mr. Sumner first went to Congress, Mr. Mann said of him that he was " the great- est constitutional lawyer in the country, except Col. Ben- ton." But that was not his highest title to the regard of good men. He could sacrifice popularity to principle, not from native indifference to the approbation of his fellow- men, but in defiance of a natural love of it and of the social pleasures it brings, that makes firmness in the path of rectitude a noble trait. Perhaps these three friends resembled each other more in this natural characteristic than in any other; and in withstanding its temptation lay their truest greatness, also kindred. Another man, who has threaded New-England society like a beam of golden sunshine gleaming in dark places, was just then coming under the observation of those whose eyes- were ever open to see goodness. Robert WTa- terston did not owe his original impulse to Mr. Mann, to whom he afterwards looked as a guide, or to any other than his own pure and noble nature, and to parents who knew how to cherish what was loveliest in their children. The death of a little only sister, whom the boy loved dearly, first drew his attention to other children ; and he loved to gather them, and teach them to be good, when he was very young. When Mr. Mann first heard of him, he 46 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. w*as a wonderfully successful Sunday-school teacher to a class of the most degraded Boston poor, and had drawn into the work many noble persons kindled by his enthu- siasm ; and his father, in whose business employ he then was, gave him certain hours for visiting the families of the Sunday-school children he had assembled in Mr. Tay- lor's vestry, and with whom he kept up such close inter- course, that he knew which ran away from school, which told falsehoods, which stole, &c. Mr. Mann listened to the story of this young man with swimming eyes, and in subsequent years was anxious to secure his services for one of his beloved Normal schools, feeling that they were to be the nurseries of true teaching, and that in such hands the moral culture which he craved for his " eighty thou- sand children " might be found. Mr. Waterston loves to say now that he owes the continued consecration of his life to the mission — for which others can see that Heaven designed him — partly to the influence of Mr. Mann's ca- reer, which stimulated his native tendencies. When he had passed from that which, to some eyes, seemed a hum- ble sphere, into a more prominent ministry, he was not corrupted by the worldly distinctions which gave him an opportunity to preach to the wealthy and the proud in- stead of to the lowly and ignorant; for he still held so faithfully to his allegiance to the poor and oppressed, that he took Mr. Mann's part boldly and earnestly when many other friends dared not give him their countenance ; and this moral courage was the first step towards his sepa- ration from his society, where indeed many who had watched his more youthful career had always felt him to be out of place. It was as if Christ had left the fisher- men of Galilee, and the multitude on the mountain, to preach common-places in the synagogue. Since Mr. Wa- tcston's release from that bondage, he has had freedom LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 47 to speak and act wherever a true man was most needed ; and that is in all the unpopular places where a fearless word is to be spoken for the right, or wherever little chil- dren are to be blessed and instructed. Another friend, whom Mr. Mann first met at a board- ing-house, and who attracted him by singular nobleness of sentiment, was subsequently very dear to him, — Mr. Samuel Downer, always sagacious, independent, true to principle, unambitious, but full of insight into public men and measures, deep in heart, faithful in adversity. Dr. Woodward, principal of the Worcester Hospital, — which Mr. Mann had projected and carried through the House of representatives with his one right arm, — and Dr. Todd of Hartford, also devoted to that benign char- ity, were a great delight to him, and objects of his enthu- siastic love. Of Dr. Todd he once said, that he was " a man oue wished to embrace if he only met him in the street." This gentleman had peculiar sympathies with him ; for he, too, had lost a young wife of lovely char- acter ; and the mere knowledge of the fact which Dr. Todd communicated to him on one occasion, that drew his attention to Mr. Mann's domestic history, constituted a bond of union between them. Mr. Mann looked upon his acquaintance with Mr. Combe and his works as an important epoch in his life. That wise philosopher cleared away forever the rubbish of false doctrine which had sometimes impeded its action, and presented a philosophy of mind that commended it- self to his judgment: and yet there was not a servile sur- render to his views; for, although he considered Mr. Combe his master, in reasoning power, he did not follow him to all his conclusions. Mr. Combe was rather de- void of imagination, and could believe nothing but what 48 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. he could clearly understand. Mr. Mann had that " pass- port into Elysium; " and his reasoning power acted with it, arguing from the seen to the unseen, which is the ob- ject of faith. It was happiness enough for Mr. Combe to believe thoroughly in the unprovability of the race ; and his conception of its possible attainments in wisdom and virtue took the place, to him, of a future life of endless progress: but Mr. Mann had the assurance within him- self that this life, with all its possible ameliorations and capabilities of earthly attainment, was but the vestibule of an existence which " the heart of man hath not con- ceived," and for which this condition, sometimes so mys- teriously wretched, is but a preparation. He believed God to be too benevolent to have created one soul which was not eventually to find him, and understand him, so far as the finite can comprehend the Infinite. Present ignorance was but the reverse of a glorious future of ever-dawning intelligence. His own words often express this thought better than another's can do it for him. I give a few letters of this period. July, 1836. My dear Sister, — I learnt from a letter which I received from ----, and still more from her own lips when I met her at----, and with perfect fulness and distinctness from your letter to me, what apprehensions and anxiety about the condition of my mind had been disturbing the peace of yours. I know that it is, on your part, an act of the purest love and affection to communicate to me your alarms and your desires. Nor, if you have such feelings, would I on any account have you smother or conceal them. To each other let there be no hidden fold of the heart. If I act up to this principle, I cannot forbear to say that this knowledge of the state of your mind has given me serious disquietude. I should be false to all the feel- ings of a brother if I could, without pain, see you either pursuing a course of conduct, or adopting a system of opinions, the inevitable consequence of which must be to render you unhappy. I know LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 49 there are minds which can contemplate the unutterable and eternal suffering — a suffering equally without limit in degree and in dura- tion— of a large portion of the human race with feelings of indiffer- ence ; indeed, it sometimes seems as if they contemplated it with a kind of horrible complacency; it always being understood that they themselves are to be spectators only, not sufferers. But you, my dear sister, thank God, have no such humanity. It would be im- possible for you to know of any high degree of suffering in any large portion of your fellow-beings, whether they were on the other side of the ocean or on the other side of the grave, without your own con- scious sympathy going forth and pervading that suffering, and feel- ing it as though it were inflicted on your own spirit, at least in a degree. I see, in the adoption, by a mind like yours, of such doc- trines as those to which you so plainly refer, the residue of life filled with anxiety and terror; at least for your friends, if not for yourself. I know you can never break your mind into such a submission to the supposed will of God as not to tremble and agonize when you see the torture applied to others, whether you see it with the bodily or with the mental eye. It is this knowledge of the inevitable effect of such a faith upon a nature like yours that gives me pain. I claim no superior sensibility to the fate of others over the mass of my fellow-men; but I know that, to my nature, there can be no com- pensation in the highest happiness, and that of the longest duration, for the endless and remediless misery of a single sentient thing. No : though the whole offspring of the Creator, with the exception of one solitary being, were gathered into a heaven of unimaginable blessed- ness, while that one solitary being, wide apart in some region of im- mensity, however remote, were wedded to immortal pain, even then, just so soon as the holy principle of love sprung up in the hearts of that happy assembly, just so soon would they forget their joy, and forget their God, and the whole universe of them, as one spirit, gather round and weep over the sufferer. My nature revolts at the idea of belonging to a universe in which there is to be never-ending anguish. That nature never can be made to look on it with com- posure. That nature may indeed be annihilated, and another of similar form be created, and receive a similar name, as I might re- move one of the Limps by which I am now writing, and substitute a 50 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. similar one in its place; but my nature, that which constitutes me, shrinks frgm an existence where any such thing is ever to come to its consciousness. You say that our love to man should arise or flow from supreme love to God. I do not think you had a definite idea in your mind when you wrote that sentence. If God be the greatest and the best of beings, then, indeed, should we strive to expand and dilate our conceptions of him, and love will rise in our hearts at once ; but that emotion, after all, is a very different one from what we must feel towards our fellow-men. God needs none of our aid, — our fellow- men need it constantly ; he is infinitely superior to us, — our fellow- men are our equals, sometimes our inferiors; to his happiness we can add nothing, — to theirs much. We know it is the duty of the powerful to give strength to the weak; of those who have abun- dance to impart to the needy; of the wise to instruct the inex- perienced. It is against the whole analogy of nature, and against every clear perception of duty, to despoil the destitute in order to give to him who already has a redundance, and to make the feeble perform not only their own tasks, but also the labors of the healthful and vigorous. We are, to be sure, to love God; yet it is not for his welfare, but for our own. The individual who does not feel that love, is bereft of a source of unfailing happiness ; but he may still perform the first of duties towards his fellow-men : and much higher do I believe he stands in the scale of moral being, who faithfully devotes himself to the welfare of his kind, though his communion with his Maker may be feeble and interrupted, than the man whose contemplations are so fastened upon the Deity, that he forgets those children of the Deity who require his aid. So far as we can derive strength in the performance of our duties by contemplating the per- fect nature of God, or by dwelling intently upon the example of Jesus Christ, so far it is our duty to do it; and should we be trans- lated to a world where our fellow-beings can no longer be benefited by our efforts, then, indeed, it would be our duty and our pleasure to regard the supreme perfection with supreme love. But, while we are on earth, the burden of our duties is towards man. This is the entire texture of the New Testament. Where else in the whole book is there such anxious repetition as in one of the last injunctions LiFE OF HORACE MANN. 51 of Christ ?—" Lovest thou me ? If thou lovest me, feed my lambs;'' and again, "If thou lovest me, feed my sheep;" and again, the third time, " Feed my sheep." My sister, I have looked at the world from the side of a grave that has swallowed up my happiness. For months afterward, I daily and hourly yearned for death as much as ever a famishing infant yearned for the breast of its mother. But, during all that time, I felt not a moment's remorse because I had not loved God more. I felt, indeed, that it was a great and irreparable misfortune that I had not been taught the existence of a God worthy of being loved. All the regrets I had were that I had not acted differently towards mankind. That was a condition of mind, if there can be any such condition upon earth, to reveal to a man the sources and the objects of duty. What we learn from books, even what we think we are taught in the Bible, may be mistake or misapprehension : but the lessons we learn from our own consciousness are the very voice of the Being that created us; and about it can there be any mistake ? I would plead with you on this subject, not so much on my own account, for that would be selfish, but on your account, and especially on account of the children, so much of whose happiness will depend upon your teachings. Dear sister, farewell. g jj. Boston, Dec. 9, 1836. My dear Friend, — How wofully long it is since I have heard from you ! What have I done to deserve the chastisement of si- lence? . . . I thought you would have an ocean of gladsome feelings to tell me of, after your visit to Concord. Mr. Emerson, I am sure, must be perpetually discovering richer worlds than those of Columbus or Herschel. He explores, too, not in the scanty and barren region of our physical firmament, but in a spiritual firmament of illimitable extent, and compacted of treasures. I heard his lecture last evening. It was to human life what Newton's " Principia " was to mathematics. He showed me what I have long thought of so much, —how much more can be accomplished by taking a true view than by great intellectual energy. Had Mr. Emerson been set down in a wrong place, it may 1 e doubted whether he would ever have found his way 52 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. to the right point of view ; but that he now certainly has done. As a man stationed in the sun would see all the planets moving round it in one direction and in perfect harmony, while to an eye on the earth their motions are full of crossings and retrogradations ; so he, from his central position in the spiritual world, discovers harmony and order when others can discern only confusion and irregularity. His lecture, last evening, was one of the mo,st splendid manifestations of a truth-seeking and truth-developing mind I ever heard. (Dr. Walter Cbanning, who sat beside me, said it made his head ache.) Though his language was transparent, yet it was almost impossible to catch the great beauty and proportions of one truth before another was presented. I have been to see your great Incarnation of the Good and True one evening since his return to the city. Allow me to say that I think the Dr.* endangers your salvation more than all other thin<*s united. That much-abused being who has such an unenviable repu- tation for planning and carrying en all the mischief of this world, and who, by the way, if he is half as bad as is alleged, must be highly delighted at the exalted opinions which are entertained of his success, —he knows better than to try to tempt you by any thine selfish or by any mercenary motives. I don't believe he will ever attempt to ply you with luxurious apathy, and ease, and a worldly in- difference synonymous with a want of human sympathy. He knows hLs woman too well: you are assailed on the other side. He makes you acquainted with persons, who, upon a single point, may have a little more than such a scanty modicum of merit as belongs to the generality of people, and then he makes you believe they are models, paragons, angels. Then you render a sort of divine honor, and are forthwith accused and punished for idolatry. But this is a digres- sion. I only meant to say that I broached my heresies about mir- acles to the Dr.; and by degrees, as fast as he can bear it, I mean to let him know how wicked I am. He preached last Sunday, and it was as though his urn had been freshly filled from a fountain of ever- lasting love. Excuse this scrawl, written for the sole purpose of condemning and punishing you for so long a silence. Yours affectionately, * Dr. William E Channing. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 53 Jan. 24, 1837. My dear Friend, — ... Probably neither you nor our sister M. ever had so certain and sure a correspondent as I am, — that is so certain and sure not to write when he was bid to. I surely am a man, (so far as your and her letters are concerned,) who reaps without sowing much; and I do not perceive that my harvests are any less abundant, and rich, and nourishing than if I had paid the price of previous culture. At nine o'clock this very evening, I flung myself down in my chair, for the first time this year, with the feeling that I had any choice among the things I might do. The bird, which for a month has been struck from battledore to battledore, fell for the first time on the ground, where it will be suffered to lie, I hope, till to-morrow morning. I came, at nine o'clock aforesaid, from Warren-street Chapel. The lecture is spilt, and nothing can gather it up again. Now, laying my hand on my left breast, I do asseverate that I did desire to send the lecture to you before one syllable of it should ever have struck any other mortal tympanum : but that was impossible; for though I sat up almost all night, last night, I did not finish it until after six o'clock this evening; and part of it I read for the first time to the audience. By way of confession, let me tell you that never have I writ- ten any thing which cost me so much labor, and, perhaps I can say, produced so little effect. The truth is, as I have often told you, I am like a man overtaken by a premature night: he not only goes slower, but loses time by going circuitously. I should like to have you see the lecture, because I have faith that you would deal sincerely with me, and tell me to the uttermost point and pendicle what strikes you as too short or too long, too high or too low, therein ; and if you will prescribe any way by which I can despatch it, pro- vided you can return it forthwith, — for I may deliver it again next week at Roxbury, — I will send it to you without delay. You always make up such a face at the egotism, as you call it, of your own letters, I wonder what you will say of this. I have no particular thing to tell you as to aught that has hap- pened either outside or inside of me. One of the Sundays, when 54 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. you wondered where I was, I was at my mother's, who was very ill, aud still remains ill. She is now very old and infirm ; and strange, — horribly strange, as it seems to me, — I should not shrink were I to hear that she had escaped from this dreary prison-house. Indeed, that is the aspect in which the living or the dying of almost all now habitually strikes me. My first feeling is, not that ill, but that good fortune has overtaken the departed. I used to look at the dead as going out of the world: now my first impression is that they are coming out of it. . . . To C. Sumner, Esq. February, 1837. My dear Friend, — I found a note on my table, this evening, • written in so deprecatory a style, that I fear I may have appeared to press the subject of your making an address indiscreetly. If I have so done, I hope you will pardon me. My attention having been now for many years drawn to all that variety and enormity of evils which make up the hell of intemper- ance, I have acquired what the artists would call a quick eye in dis- covering them ; the consequence of which is, that, wherever I go, some species of that generic horror afflicts me : and who can see it, or a ten thousandth part of it, unmoved? Knowing too, as I do, that if the talented, respected, and influ. ential young men of this city, even to the number of one hundred, would stand in the pass of Thermopylae, that worst of evils might be excluded forever, I have sometimes felt as if I had a right, in the sacred name of humanity, to call upOn every one to contribute his assistance in so beneficent a work ; and I am aware that I some- times speak to my friends as if they must yield obedience to the highest law of their nature, and perform this duty. Believing too, as I do, that the infidel towards God is more open to recovery than the infidel towards man, — he, I mean, who docs not believe in the recuperative power of the race, — I know I am liable to make use of strong expressions, which may seem very extravagant if taken without the general views which are in my mind ; and it is more than probable, that, in speaking to you on this subject, I have exposed myself to misconstruction. But all these things I hope you will be LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 55 good enough to overlook. ... Do not believe that I would interfere with the freedom of not-speaking any more than I would with the freedom of speech. Yours very truly, HORACE MANN. April 20, 1837. My dear Friend, — It is now long since I have written you. I opine that you may not be unwilling to hear from me ; therefore I write. That you are well, I hope ; that you are too good for your own comfort, I know ; that you will ever learn to put alloy enough into your gold to deprive it of its ductility, and give it a consistence adapted to human uses, I question. Ilium fuit. And so, to-mor- row night, will be said of the present session of what, in the magnil- oquent style of our forefathers, used to be called the Great and General Court. The Senate Chamber will be deserted. Its seats will be vacant. Its vaults will echo to the lightest tread. And that vast, coliseum-like hall of the House, which to-day has been compacted with life, — fermenting, tossing, raging, —will be like the silent interior of a pyramid. Now I must tell you some things that have come to pass during the "hundred days." We have passed a most excellent license- law, adapted, as I think, to the present state of the Temperance reform. It prohibits the sale of all intoxicating liquors on the Sab- bath. That day has hitherto been profaned and desecrated above all other days in the week. There has been more intoxication that day than on the other six. If I may be allowed to call names, I think it has been the Devil's benefit! His curtain rose early, his acts were numerous, his scenes combined every variety of wretched- ness and guilt: yet throughout the whole there reigned a dreadful unity, such as no other drama ever equalled; and, at the horrid denouement, the whole — stage, proscenium, and cavea — were covered with death. The bill passed by crushing majorities on both sides, — in the House, about 240 to 17 ; and in the Senate, 23 to 6. It contains other provisions of a most salutary nature. When I signed the act to-day in my official capacity, [Mr. Mann was then President of the 56 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Senate,] the whole history of the fierce contest which was waged five years ago this winter in the House, when I stood almost alone in the front of the battle, rose like a vision before me. At that time there were but two representatives from the city of Boston who voted with me : one was Dr. J. B. Flint; the other the venera- ble old Major Melville, " the last of the Cocked Hats," who was a member of the Boston Tea-party in ante-Revolutionary days. You asked me, some time since, what I meant by the triumph of the Temperance reform, and whether we must not always see ex- cess. What I meant by the triumph of the Temperance reform was the entire prohibition of the sale of ardent spirits as a drink, the abrogation of the laws authorizing the existence of public places for its use or sale ; thus taking away those frequent temptations to men whose appetites now overcome their resolutions. There are thousands and tens of thousands of inebriates who never would have been so, had the tavern and the dram-shop been five miles off from their homes. When I tell you what has been done for the hospital at Worces- ter, you will be superstitious, and exclaim, " It has had an angel." Dr. Woodward's salary has been raised six hundred dollars; which will be the means, I think, of securing his invaluable services for some time longer. The Legislature have appropriated ten thousand dollars (I write the words out instead of figures, lest you should think I have mistaken in the matter of a cipher) to finish the build- ings, so that, when done, they will accommodate say two hundred and thirty ; seven thousand dollars for the purchase of land, so that our inmates can enjoy the advantages of agricultural employment, which we regard very highly; and three thousand dollars for a chapel, where the oil of religion may be poured in a flood over the ocean of insanity; and eight thousand dollars to meet the current expenses of the institution. All this was done without a sino-le audible murmur of opposition; nay, with the greatest apparent cordi- ality towards the hospital. Besides this, the Senate has empowered its clerk to republish all the reports of the institution in one volume, together with other papers, as he may see fit, with an ad libitum authority as to the number of the edition. Enough will be printed to be distributed liberally in every State, and also to send to Eu- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 57 rope. Ah! I never thought of this when, in 1830, we stormed the dungeons of inhumanity. The outer gates are broken down; and some of the captives are coming forth every day to enjoy the light and the beauty of the physical, and the holier light and beau- ty of the moral universe: yet here in this midnight silence, as I write, I hear from their more interior cells, as audibly as if it were the voice of the thunder-cloud, the voices of many victims awaiting in unconsciousness the day of their deliverance. Those who saw Mr. Mann at this time, when he felt that the cause so dear to him was firmly established in the hearts and consciences of the people, well remember the radiance of his presence. It seemed as if life, joy, and hope had rolled back upon him from the realm of darkness in which he had seen them swallowed up. The cause always continued to excite his deepest enthusiasm ; and, as Miss Dix extended it from the borders of his native State — with all whose dungeons he at one time had made himself so familiar — to the borders of the civ- ilized world, his worship of her divine prowess waxed, and became a part of his consciousness ; he counting it happi- ness enough, as he has sometimes said, " to be the lackey to do her bidding in the work." He loved to picture her entering alone realms of darkness where man did not dare to set his foot, and reading words of cheer from the Book of Life, or with a hymn upon her lips, quelling the fiercest raging of madness. After the chapel was added to the hospital at Worces- ter, when that large and motley assembly, many of whom needed confinement and watching at other times, sat quiet and orderly during divine service, with no other check than their own associations with the scene, and the calm, penetrating blue eye and majestic brow of Dr. Woodward, who always looked like Jupiter Benig- nus, as he sat or stood by the side of the clergyman, 58 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. it was a great pleasure to Mr. Mann so to time his visits as to enjoy the wonderful spectacle, and feel the blessed reflex influence distil drop by drop upon his own heart. He was personally beloved there also, and his presence always had a salutary influence. CHAPTER II. THE SECRETARY OF THE BOARD OF EDUCATION. IN speaking of Mr. Mann as an educator, I enter into his inmost life ; for that cause, of all others, roused into action all his powers. He had always been interested in reforms ; but no cause in which his duties as a citizen involved him held the same rank in his estimation as this. His interest and action in the cause of insane hospitals had deepened his insight into the primary causes and hiuderances of human development; and the study of " Combe's Constitution of Man," which he met with in 1837, added new fuel to the fire of his enthusiasm. Although life had lost its charms for him since the death of his beloved wife, his reserved power was, unconsciously to himself, lying ready to be evoked by some great aim. After the stunning effect of that blow had passed away in a limited degree, he began a private journal, which covers the first six years of his secretaryship ; and a few extracts from that will show in what spirit he undertook it. But his own words, even in a private journal, do no justice to the zeal and devotion with which he prosecuted the work. The first conviction of his early manhood had' been the necessity of head and heart culture in the citi- zens of a republic ; and, through every period of his life, the conviction grew, till it culminated in a fervor of action, which obstacles could not cool, and which no selfish or personal considerations could abate. If I can well describe 59 60 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. the sentiment that animated him, I feel sure that I bhall kindle in the young, to whom I have dedicated this work, a generous emulation to go and do likewise, aiding rather than contending with each other at every step. If I can make it apparent how he understood the central principle of our religion, " Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you," I shall feel that I have succeeded in an endeavor which costs me too much to be made for any lesser motive. Only those who knew him vitally know how truly he lived to that end, and how hard he labored to improve the relations of the young and inex- perienced with the older and more experienced. Only through the young could he work out reforms which must underlie society before the next step in human advance- ment can be taken ; for it is the effect of practical unbelief, such as pervades what is poetically called " the world," to deaden hope and generous resolve, and to dim the light of the ideal man which burns in every soul till it is covered up and quenched by false doctrine, and by the " rubbish and muddy waters of custom." One must understand all ecclesiastical and sacerdotal history, or the animus of it, to estimate the full effect of the ages in which might constituted right, with those few exceptions which illuminate history and redeem the race from the stigma of a failure. Only a great soul can see that God has made no failure ; though happily the simple heart believes it, as we see exemplified by the filial trust and faith of the lowly and pious sufferers, who, in all times, have taught us that God speaks in the humble and waiting soul. Education, religious and political freedom, then, were the watchwords of his life and action. All collateral evils would vanish if these things could be established. In one sense, he cannot be said to have sacrificed himself to them; LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 61 for he identified himself with them, and cared little for any thing else. To work for them was his happiness. All culture, all living, that could be transmuted into material for their advancement, were dear to him, if they were not to be monopolized by the few at the expense of the many; for there was nothing beautiful or of good repute which was to be selfishly appropriated. He wished every child of God to be so situated as to lay hold of the means of self-improvement; and with sledge-hammer and battle-axe ho would beat down the obstacles, if they did not yield to the arguments of love and truth and justice. He considered it the first duty of government to put these means within the reach of every one. He did not believe that men were created to minister to their own pleasures, or even to their own self-improvement merely ; indeed, he did not believe that any self-improvement could be vital which did not consciously ally itself with the improve- ment of others. He believed that man was created for ends of which he only obtains a faint and far-off glimpse, his consciousness of the great destiny that awaits him gradually deepening as he advances ; that for this great destiny he is endowed with faculties of indefinite progress; and that he is so allied socially, that the advance of one cannot go on successfully without the advance of the whole. When he looked upon the inequalities of human condition, he saw that it was the consequence of man's not using worthily his God-given gifts; and that the stimulus of acting for the good of each and all caused these gifts to become divine in their proportions. Feeble in health, and still more feeble in animal spirits, there were times when the exhaustive nature of his labors, and of the way in which he performed them, made it im- possible for him to write down his own purposes and emotions for his own perusal. His journal was written 62 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. rather as a relief from depression, than as a full exponent of his thoughts. He was not himself aware, that, while under that cloud, the calls of humanity often touched him as with fire from heaven. Nevertheless, a man's own words are always an expression of himself, if written in sincerity and simplicity. If he had been as much ani- mated and inspired by his own eloquence upon this sub- ject as others were, we should have had brilliant para- graphs recording successful performances ; but he never appreciated justly his own efforts. No sooner had he made an effort than he was tormented by a sense of its inadequacy to the demands of the occasion ; and especially when ill health and sorrow held such sway over him, his exactions of himself were fearful. He has sometimes been called " pitiless " in his requisitions of others: he was so in regard to himself, never counting his own ease, comfort, or even life, as of any importance, if he thought the sacrifice of them could further the ends of any cause in which he had embarked with a disinterested purpose. It was not that he imagined that the world could not get on without him, but that he saw so much to be done, and so few willing to do the work, that he took more than his share upon himself. He was content to work at the underpinnings of great interests, sure that, if these were well laid, the superstructures would be safe. This characterized his later as well as earlier efforts ; for when, in subsequent years, he transferred himself to a field in which much less had been accomplished than in Massachusetts, he was still content to begin at the begin- ning, and made new and deeper explorations into the kingdom of ignorance than any he had before been led to make. But I will not anticipate. In Massachusetts the common-school system had degen- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 63 erated in practioe from the original theoretic view of the early Pilgrim Fathers. Common and equal opportunities of education for all was the primitive idea of those men who had been so signally made to feel how unequally human rights were shared. The opportunities, unpar- alleled in the world's history, which the establishment of the Federal Union had opened to all classes of men to ob- tain wealth, had caused this idea to be nearly lost sight of; and the common schools had been allowed to degenerate into neglected schools for the poorer classes only, instead of becoming nurseries of democratic institutions for all classes. For, as wealthier and better educated citizens turned away from them, the best talent and education were not secured to carry them on. The word "classes" is not a good democratic word. Under our institutions, there should be but two, — the educated and the ignorant; and the latter should be an ever-decreasing one, gradually merging into the other. Mr. Mann's wish was to restore the good old custom of hav- ing the rich and the poor educated together; and for that end he desired to make the public schools as good as schools could be made, so that the rich and the poor might not necessarily be coincident with the educated and the ignorant. As long as poverty necessitates igno- rance, society will always be divided on a wrong principle. Poverty may in itself be honorable; and it is a well- observed fact, that out of its ranks have risen the most distinguished Americans. The self-reliance and self- denial consequent upon limited means is one of the finest elements of education. Education is the best security for that competence which holds the golden mean be- tween riches and poverty, affording time and opportunity for cultivation of all the powers, while it does not preclude the necessity of industry and exertion. For the temporal 64 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. and spiritual advancement of society, Mr. Mann felt that the vocation of educator was the highest possible one in a republic. He approached it with the deepest awe and a sense of the highest responsibility, gladly relinquishing senatorial honors and wealth for its arduous but inter- esting duties. Very exhausting labors had preceded his acceptance of the office of Secretary of the Board of Education. He had found the practice of the law very onerous; for he ' regarded the legal profession as one by whose conscien- tious practice a man wields great power for truth and justice. But he was unable to leave it for more conge- nial pursuits until he had discharged certain obligations already alluded to. When he assumed the office, he was wholly free from debts thus incurred, but nearly penni- less; and had passed three years of diis sad lonely life in his law-office, without even the solace of a borrowed domestic life such as can be found in a boarding-house. Most of his friends, who thought wealth, the position which it insures, and the prospects of political advance- ment that lay fairly before him, the most desirable objects of life, considered him foolish and visionary in making the change from a lucrative profession. A few, who knew the spirit he was of, rejoiced in his decision, al- though his present aim promised no worldly honors. CHAPTER IH. JOURNAL. I GIVE a few extracts from his journal, chiefly to show the rise and progress of the new measures taken to carry out the original idea of universal education. The sad tone that pervades it was natural to him under his circumstances; but his native buoyancy of spirit and strength of will carried him through his great labors tri- umphantly. May 4, 1837. I have long had an inefficient desire to keep a jour- nal. This desire has always been just at the most unlucky point,— so strong as to make me regret the omission, and yet too weak to induce me to supply it. According to a law of optics, the particular inconvenience because it was near has seemed larger than the gen- eral benefit because it was remote. This, however, is an illusion of the sensas, which it is the duty of the reason to rectify; for, in the eye of reason, proximity and distance are alike discarded, and every thing is estimated at its intrinsic value. I wish to keep some remembrancer (daily when I am able, less frequently when I must) of the states of my mind, and of the most important transactions in which I may be concerned. I can put that upon paper, which, if I were to whisper even to the best friend, might expose me to a suspicion of vanity; and I think I have honesty enough to record in a diary against myself what my pride might induce me to conceal even at the confessional of the closest friendship. Besides, in this world of mixed motives, may it not be right to avail myself of the reflection, that the night shall record the actions of the day, in order to give form and heart to good purposes, and to impose restraint upon bad ones ? Is it wise to deny 6 65 66 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. any helps which can assist in ascending the eminences of virtue ? In this attempt, I hope I may be sincere : for what motive have I to assume to be what my own consciousness would deny ? and what pos- sible fear can actuate me, save that fear which is the beginning of wisdom ? My future days are, like the succeeding pages of this book, untouched, alike receptive of good or evil. There is this difference, however, —that the record kept in the mind is necessarily a true rec- ord. That cannot be forged, falsified, distorted, or discolored ; and that is the record which I am hereafter to have spread open before my eyes. It is my belief that each individual will hereafter remem- ber all that he has ever done, said, or thought. That is the book of judgment. May that volume be so filled, that it may in after- periods of existence be unrolled and inspected with pleasure ! and may this volume be a transcript of that! May 5. I thought to-day would furnish me nothing to record : but, this afternoon, I was most agreeably surprised in meeting my friend B. Taft, jun., Esq., of Uxbridge, with whom I was for several years asso- ciated in the erection and direction of the Worcester Hospital; and all our intercourse has left nothing behind which I do not now recol- lect with pleasure. How much was that commission indebted to his skill and practical judgment! His good sense saved money, saved embarrassment, and, in so doing, saved reputation :• better even than that, I think it made some. If ever I performed a disinterested act, it was in my efforts to found that institution ; and I have been fully rewarded therefor. Indeed, I have observed that acts emanating from worthy motives have almost invariably yielded me an ample requital of pleasure ; while those which sprung from a selfish motive, however intellectually judicious, have, at least in their connections and remoter results, ended in annoyance or injury. Is this fancy 'I or is there some mysterious, indissoluble connection between embryo motive and physical result, just as there is between the invisible, im- palpable quality of a germ, and the self-exposing, self-diffusing char- acter of the fruit ? Surely it is not above or beyond the wisdom of the Deity to ordain such a connection. And physical science affords a thousand instances where we discern causes, not by knowing the pro- cess, but only by witnessing the uniformity of results. Will not the time come to us all, by an adamantine law of necessity, when we shall LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 67 be compelled to analyze all our own former motives, and to trace them to their results, and when the present invisible continuity between beginning and end shall be made manifest? Surely there is much, very much, in the deductions of experience, to authorize this broad generalization. And does not the argument, a priori, from a know- ledge of the Deity, lead to the same conclusion ? These truths—for I believe they are truths — are to me revelation. This species of revelation cannot be gainsaid. It does not depend upon historic proof. It was not designed to be transmissible from one generation to another. It had a higher design, — that of being personal, and therefore indisputable, to each and all. May 6. This morning I engaged and sent to Worcester an ele- gant two-horse carriage to be used at the hospital to give rides to the female patients. The exercise they will thereby attain will be directly beneficial to their physical health, there is no doubt; and the agreeable emotions excited by pleasant rides in a fine-looking carriage, will, in an indirect way, be not less promotive of mental health. Dined to-day with Edmund Dwight, Esq , for the purpose of con- ferring with him on the late law authorizing the appointment of a Board of Education. Mr. Dwight had the civility, or the incivility (I do not doubt that his motives would place the act under the former category), to propose that / should be Secretary of the Board, — a most responsible and important office, bearing more effectually, if well executed, upon the coming welfare of the State, than any other office in it. For myself, I never had a sleeping nor a waking dream that I should ever think of myself, or be thought of by any other, in relation to that station. Query, therefore, could he have been sin- cere in his suggestion ? May 7. Sunday. This day has furnished me with no incident, nor excited any train of thought that I now remember, which would be available, if recorded, for future use. Have I lost a day 1 " Count that day lost whose low-declining sun Views at thy hcind no worthy action done." May 8. Have read to-day the first article in the 130th number of the "Edinburgh Review," upon Lord Brougham's "Discourse 68 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. on Natural Theology;" a most deeply interesting paper, — elevated, tolerant, philosophical. I know it is thought by many, perhaps by most professing Christians, to be a fatal heresy, and worthy of being purged by fire; but, for myself, natural religion stands as pre-eminent over revealed religion as the deepest experience over the lightest hearsay. The power of natural religion is scarcely be- gun to be understood or appreciated. The force and cogency of the evidence, the intensity and irresistibleness of its power, are not known, because its elements are not developed and explained. It gives us more than an intellectual conviction,—it gives us a feel- ing of truth; and however much the lights of revealed religion may have guided the generations of men amid this darkness of mor- tality, yet I believe that the time is coming when the light of nat- ural religion will be to that of revealed as the rising sun is to the day-star that preceded it. May 9. I have been to-day to Worcester, and found the affairs of the hospital prospering. Oh ! how should I bo able to bear the burden of life, were I not sustained by the conviction of having done something for the alleviation of others'! Surely Nature sends no such solace for our own sufferings as when she inspires us with a desire to relieve the sufferings of others. How wonderfully she has linked the feeling of self-restoration with an efficient desire for the restoration of others! May 10. A day of drudgery without any particular pain, and with only a single pleasure. I called just at night to inform a poor old mother about her daughter, whom I yesterday saw at the hospi- tal, that she already showed decided symptoms of relief and im- provement : whereat the old motherly heart began to overflow with grateful garrulity; and, as I was the nearest object, she poured it out in floods upon me. Is it not a pretty good sign if one feels ashamed at receiving more praise than he deserves ? If others hear it, it may gratify vanity or enhance reputation ; but, when one hears it all alone, he has nothing to do but to think whether he does not know better than to believe it. However, if one has not sufficient moral sensibility to be ashamed of praise which he does not deserve, then I suppose he would enjoy it; and if he is ashamed of being ex- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 69 tolled beyond his merits, then does not the justness of the feeling of shame argue a condition of mind of which he may feel proud ? May 12. This day I carried a female friend to see the Institu- tion of the Blind, and was delighted with her delight. Indeed, who can witness the natural privation of sight, and think of all its lamentable train of consequences, and then behold those successful acts of skill and benevolence by which that privation has been sup- plied, without deep and abiding gratification ? If the powers of the human mind and the resources of wealth were directed to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate and the afflicted, instead of being devoted to selfish and sensual gratifications, what a different world this would be ! and, in the quantity and quality of happiness pos- sessed, those who bestowed the favors would be as great gainers as those who received them. May 13. To-day Deacon Grant and I concluded that it would be expedient to hold a consultation, with a few of the most judicious friends of temperance, upon the subject of the means most eligible and expedient for the enforcement of the late license-law, which pro- hibits the sale of any intoxicating drinks on the Sabbath. Each of us, therefore, undertook to send out a few invitations to particular persons, inviting their attendance to-morrow (Sunday) evening at the office of the Visitors of the Poor, to devise measures to secure if possible, even in this city, the execution of the above-mentioned law. How incalculable, how unimaginable, an amount of private happiness and public welfare depends upon the faithful administra- tion of that law ! How little does that public think even of its exist- ence ! When will the human mind be instructed to arrange things upon a scale according to their intrinsic value, so as for the future to refuse the precedence to trivial and transitory objects over univer- sal and immortal interests ? May 14. A meeting has been held this evening, as contem- plated yesterday ; and I have been appointed chairman of a commitr tee to have an interview to-morrow with the Mayor of the city upon the subject of providing means for causing the late license-law to be observed in the city. May 15. Called on the Mayor in pursuance of yesterday's ap- 70 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. pointment. He speaks decidedly and encouragingly. May his words become things ! Had an interesting conversation with Dr. Channing on the times. His perception of the moral aspect of sub- jects is so intense, that it becomes almost exclusive ; but, as moral- ity is the central point of this earthly universe, he who selects that portion, even though he does not see all, yet sees more than any one else. His is a noble ministry. Supposing, what is sometimes said to be true, that he is a man of one idea, yet is not one life well spent in developing one idea, especially if it be that great idea upon which he has expended his powers? Had each man, great and small, developed an idea, great or small, what a wise world we should have about this anno Domini 1837 ! May 18. . . . Spent this evening with Mr. Dwight, who showed me a letter from the Governor, proposing my nomination, with his, as a member of the Board of Education, provided for by a law of the last session. Mr. Dwight again urged upon me a consideration of the subject of my being Secretary of the Board. Ought I to think of filling this high and responsible office ? Can I adequately per- form its duties ? Will my greater zeal in the cause than that of others supply the deficiency in point of talent and information ? Whoever shall undertake that task must encounter privation, labor, and an infinite annoyance from an infinite number of schemers. He must condense the steam of enthusiasts, and soften the rock of the incredulous. What toil in arriving at a true system himself! what toil in infusing that system into the minds of others ! How many dead minds to be resuscitated ! how many prurient ones to be soothed ! How much of mingled truth and error to be decompounded and analyzed ! What a spirit of perseverance would be needed to sustain him all the way between the inception and the accomplish- ment of his objects ! But should he succeed; should he brin* forth the germs of greatness and of happiness which Nature has scattered abroad, and expand them into maturity, and enrich them with fruit,; should he be able to teach, to even a few of this genera- tion, how miud is a god over matter; how, in arranging objects of desire, a subordination of the less valuable to the more is the great secret of individual happiness ; how the whole of life depends upon the scale which we form of its relative values, — could he do this, LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 71 what diffusion, what intensity, what perpetuity of blessings he would confer ! How would his beneficial influence upon mankind widen and deepen as it descended forever ! May 21. This afternoon, heard a most excellent sermon from Mr. Taylor oi» the duty of nonconformity to the world. It was compact with graphic delineations of fashionable and customary vices. What a wonderful man ! There is a natural language which com- municates to one mind the state or condition of another mind. In this language, words and sentences are subordinate instruments. Soul speaks to soul. Over this language Mr. Taylor has power. It is not embarrassed by rules of syntax. It makes itself understood in spite of all violation of those rules. May 23. Wrote to Dr. Woodward yesterday on the subject of receiving an insane woman of this city at the hospital. To day, re- ceived answer that she could be admitted. To-day, also, made appli- cation in behalf of another woman, belonging to Weymouth. Scarce a day passes in which I have not some call in reference to that insti- tution. They are all acceptable. These duties I perform with spontaneous alacrity and pleasure. Let me commune with myself, and see that no arrogant feeling of pride and self-complacency mingles with my emotions on these occasions. I cannot deny, in- deed, that to have been instrumental in furnishing means for allevi- ating such unimaginable forms of suffering is one of the few sources of earthly gratification which the consuming calamities of my life have not dried up. Nay, had it not been for a few such subjects of reflection to call off my thoughts when they were concentrating into despair, I think that long ere this I should have been driven 'into insanity and suicide. May 25. . . . To-day has been spent in reading that most valu- able book, " Combe on the Constitution of Man." When will truth be the standard of value ? May 26. The annual meeting of the Massachusetts Temperance Society took place this evening. Pretty well attended, and some good speeches made. The cause progresses. I used to feel a faith in its ultimate triumph, as strong as a prophecy. The faith is now in a forward state of realization ; and what a triumph it will be! not like a Roman triumph that made hearts bleed, and nations weep, 72 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. and reduced armies to captivity, but one that heals hearts, and wipes tears from a nation's eyes, and sets captivity free. May 27. An official annunciation of the following gentlemen to constitute the Board of Education has this day been made ; viz., James G. Carter, Emerson Davis, Edmund Dwight^ Horace Mann, Edward A. Newton, Robert Rantoul, jun., Thomas Ilobbins, and Jared Sparks. Thus a portion of the duties of a most important office are devolved upon me. This I believe to be like a spring, almost imperceptible, flowing from the highest table-land, between oceans, which is destined to deepen and widen as it descends, diffusing fertility and beauty in its course ; and nations shall dwell upon its banks. It is the first great movement towards an organized system of common education, which shall at once be thorough and universal. Every civilized State is as imperfectly organized, without a minister or secretary of instruction, as it would be without ministers or secretaries of State, Finance, War, or the Navy. Every child should be educated: if not educated by its own father, the State should appoint a father to it. I would much sooner surrender a portion of the territory of the Commonwealth to an ambitious and aggressive neighbor than I would surrender the minds of its children to the dominion of ignorance. May 29. This evening, met Mr. Briggs and a number of other temperance gentlemen at the temperance house of Deacon Grant, the embodiment of the law and the practice of temperance. Father Taylor was there, with a world of beautiful material images corre- sponding with his world of beautiful spiritual ideas, — the noblest man I have ever known. May 30. An attempt this evening, about nine o'clock, to set fire to this building in the attic over the entry-way, between Mr. Loring's room and mine. Fortunately it was discovered early, and extin- guished. A gang of incendiaries infest the city. What a state of morals it reveals ! Is it possible that such things could be, if moral instruction were not infinitely below what it ought to be? That passion against an individual might be so inflamed as to lead to such atrocities from a spirit of revenge, is sufficiently wonderful; but that an enormity of that description should be perpetrated from the wan- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 73 tonness of malignity, seems incredible. When will society, like a mother, take care of all her children ? May 31. General Election Day. How different it is to me from what it was when a boy ! Not one particle of my boyish mind seems to-remain to establish identity. How perfect the change that may be wrought in us by new fortunes, new circumstances, and new views, leading to new pursuits ! What a topic of moralization is the change, of which I am now conscious, between my present and my former self ! Memory alone connects the two together. June 1. Visited the navy-yard of Charlestown this afternoon with a friend. What a magnificent product of human art and labor is a ship-of-war ! Were an inhabitant of some other planet to see a ship and a man side by side, would not he think the ship had made the man, rather than the man the ship ? Yet, after all, there are, in my conceptions, painful considerations clustering round such an object, which even its magnificence cannot dispel. With all its vastness, it is only a more powerful engine for the destruction of human life. With its power of locomotion, it is only the more capacitated to seek out the objects of that destruction, wherever they may be, in any part of the world washed by the all-embracing ocean. If a thousandth part of what has been expended in war, and in preparing its mighty engines, had been devoted to the development of reason and the diffu- sion of Christian principles, nothing would have been known for cen- turies past of its terrors, its sufferings, its impoverishment, and its demoralization, but what was learnt from history. June 3. Have completed to-day a cursory examination of the Plymouth-Colony Laws. I feel some disappointment in their perusal. They do not seem to me to evince so much forethought, sagacity, and comprehension of principles, as I had anticipated. Providence for the future is not so far-sighted; and selfishness is less self-preserving and self-improving than I expected to find. Compared with the contem- porary legislation in the Massachusetts Colony, the advantage is strongly in favor of the latter. Schools seem to have occupied very little of their attention. Learning was not a prominent object of ambition. Great virtues and talents would have shed a higher lustre upon office, and, one would suppose beforehand, would have superseded the necessity of enacting, that, " if a person chosen gov- 74 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. ernor should refuse to serve, he should be fined £20 for his delin- quency " ! June 4. Sunday. If religion consists in going to meeting, I have been non-religious to-day. The truth is, that hearing common sermons gives my piety the consumption. Ministers seem to me not to care half so much about the salvation of mankind as I do about a justice's case. When I have a case before a justice of the peace, I can't help thinking of it beforehand, and perhaps feeling grieved too, afterward, if in any respect I might have conducted it better. If I am at a dinner, the merriment or the philosophy of the table- talk suggests something, which I put away into a pigeon-hole in my mind for the case; and when I read, be it poetry or prose, the case hangs over the page like a magnet, and attracts to itself whatever seems to be pertinent or applicable. Success or failure leaves a bright or a dark hue on my mind, often for days. But, judging from external indications, what do ministers care on Monday, at a dinner-party or a jam, which way souls are steering? Let me al- ways except in this city, however, Dr. Channing and good old Father Taylor. June 11. Sunday. As I sit down to write, martial music is playing in the streets. A riot of almost unheard-of atrocity has raged for several hours this afternoon between the Irish population of Broad Street and its vicinity, on one side, and the engine-men and those who rallied to their assistance, on the other. It is said lives are lost: it is certain that great bodily injury has been inflicted. Different accounts are given, by the different parties, of the origin of the affray, each nation charging the aggression upon the other. It will, of course, be the subject of judicial investigation : but I have fears that antipathies will pursue the foreigners; that sympathies will protect the natives; and that punishment will be administered with an unequal hand. No man can have observed the state of public opinion on the subject of insubordination and violence, for redress of supposed wrongs, for some time past, without painful forebodings in regard to the future. A resort to force, if it has not been openly approved by men of wealth, character, and influence, has been but feebly repre- hended. Physical resistance has been spoken of feebly as one of LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 75 the modes of redress. Men's minds have been diverted from the remedy of a quiet and calm administration of the law, if they hive not been taught, indeed, to look with some degree of contempt upon the slow processes of judicial proceedings. A reverence for law has not been inculcated. The public mind has become habituated to the contemplation of speedier modes of redress. The sentiment of insub- ordination has not been branded. Overt acts of interference with the rights of others have been almost applauded; for when strong condemnation is expected, and only feeble and timid disapproval is given, the offender feels as though he had been justified. If it had been the practice of all men, and all public organs for the expression of opinion, to place violence and civil commotion at its true point in the scale of guilt, that condition of the common mind would not have existed out of which a riot could spring. Under the influence of such expressions of the public voice, for some time past, as I have referred to, those general feelings have grown up in which a sudden and widely diffused provocation would generate violence. An occasion only was wanting for thoughts to become actions, for ideas to find arms, for the impulse to take the weapon. Those who form, or contribute to form, this public opinion, are the real culprits; nor are those exonerated from guilt who might have done much to reform, to enlighten, to correct, but who have preferred the private indulgence of their own ease and their own luxuries to the labor of moulding public opinion. In a government like ours, there will be a public opinion of almost uncontrollable power. The educated, the wealthy, the intelligent, may have a powerful and decisive voice in its formation; or they may live in their own selfish enjoyments, and suffer the ignorant, the vicious, the depraved, to form that public opinion. If they do the latter, they must expect that the course of events will be directed by the licentious impulse, and that history will take its character from the predominant motives of action ; and that they will, at distant places and at distant times, be doomed to bear the ignominy they are now disposed to ascribe wholly to others. June 14. All the leisure of this day has been spent in writing a long letter to E. Dwight, Esq., at his request, portraying the duties of the Secretary of the Board of Education, and informing him of the relation in which I must stand to his proposition to me to accept 76 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. that office. I cannot think of that station, as regards myself, with- out feeling both hopes and fears, desires and apprehensions, multi- plying in my mind, — so glorious a sphere, should it be crowned with success; so heavy with disappointment and humiliation, should it fail through any avoidable misfortune. What a thought, to have the future minds of such multitudes dependent in any perceptible degree upon one's own exertions ! It is such a thought as must mightily energize or totally overpower any mind that can adequately comprehend it. June 16. Have seen nothing, heard nothing, done nothing, thought nothing, to-day, worthy of being recorded in this valueless journal. The whole day has been spent in investigating a legal question, which, the farther I explore, seems more and more promis- ing for my client. But what is the reason of that increasing confi- dence ? This is a most profound and interesting question. Do my convictions gain strength because I discover new reasons for believ- ing I am right? or does the revolving of old reasons in my mind ten tunes over produce the same effect as the discovery of ten new rea- sons? Who can analyze his own belief into its elements, and de- termine how much of it has arisen from some predilection to one thing, or repulsion from another ? An opinion is adopted without reflection, or any comparison with other views, expressed perhaps with heedlessness, then defended through pride, then rescued from refutation through sloth in examining other opinions, then consoli- dated into an article of the creed. Of what infinite importance is it, that in the incipient stages of conviction, when the mind per- ceives that it has the elements of belief in it that have not yet found out their affinities, before it subsides and hardens into con- viction, — how infinitely important is it to keep the eye steadfastly on truth! — never to think whether it will be popular, profitable, pleasant to have the truth one thing or another, but to ask solely, exclusively, earnestly, incessantly, What is truth? There is no such treasure as truth; there is no such source of happiness as truth; there is no such antidote against calamity as truth. Truth will bear a man prosperously onward; but error is a burden that has to be carried. June 17. One cannot see the date, " June 17," without an ac- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 77 celeration of the blood, and a certain emotion of feeling taller. I am not in a mood to moralize or fustianize on this topic. How else can we so worthily or sincerely show either gratitude or admiration for the deeds of our ancestors as by improving and transmitting to others the various blessings they achieved for us ? In our day, things are to be done, though not such things as they did. They did what the circumstances of that age demanded : the exigencies of our age demand the performance of appropriate acts quite as imperatively as theirs did. Our imitation of their example, as adapted to our times, is the only legitimate proof of our admiration, or the true measure of our gratitude. June 19. Employed the 'whole day in looking up a technical question of law. I have not, therefore, had any thing in my head but technical combinations of technicalities. This part of the law has a strong tendency to make the mind near-sighted. What Coleridge says generally, and very untruly, of the law, may be just when applied solely to this part of it, — that its operation upon the mind is like that of a grind-stone upon a knife; it narrows while it sharpens. And is it not true that every object of science, however grand or elevated, has its atoms, its minute and subtle divisions and discriminations? The degrees of longitude upon the earth's , surface, the zones into which the globe has been divided, and their corresponding lines and compartments in the heavens, would show pretty well in the registry for county deeds; but yet, in surveying and affixing the bounds and limits to these vast tracts of space, what minute calculations must the geographer and astronomer make ! what fractions, what decimals, what infinitesimals! So the natural philosopher, whose patrimony, bequeathed to him by science, is continents and oceans and suns, must deal also with globules and animalculae, and points vanishing into nothingness. Who can have more subtle questions to settle than the casuist or the metaphysician ? So of all. In one direction we lose every thino- in magnificence, in vastness, in infinity: in the other direc- tion we are equally lost in attempting to trace to their elements those substances, whatever they are, whose aggregate is earth, ocean, air, sky, immensity. Those who see nothing in the law but technicalities, apices, and summa jura, are about as wise as the 78 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. child who mistook the infinite host of the stars for brass nails that fastened up the earth's ceiling. June 20. Another clay in search of the technical rules of law. If the whole professional business of a lawyer consisted only in investigating and determining technical rules, one might almost be excused for attempting to reach justice summarily through the in- strumentality of that monster, a mob. Those who only have to pay for technical law are comparatively fortunate ; but this effort for two days in succession to keep the eye fixed upon the edge of a razor is apt to make one a little nervous. I will, therefore, try to try the effect of " tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." Ah ! sleep I can rarely woo ; " balmy sleep," never ! Calamity and misfor- tune and attendant ill-health have thrown my system into such dis- order, that now I never sleep; and, as a necessary consequence, am never awake. The sleep and the being awake — the land and the water — are mingled together, and neither can be enjoyed. June 22. Spent half an hour to-day in the Athenceum Gallery. Some exquisite paintings. What an art ! — to vivify canvas, to make colors express soul. By means of language, we can, at best, only communicate ideas one by one. It is as though the ocean were to be shown to a spectator by separate drops. By painting and sculpture we see the whole soul at once : the great ocean of its thoughts and feelings is taken in at a glance. No wonder the an- cients called the arts " divine." And if it costs the artist so much labor, such sleepless study, such vehement strivings, to draw the outline of form with such wonderful exactness, to color the space within the outline with such exquisite skill, so that a mere trem- bling of his hand in the delineation, the slightest failure in the touch of his pencil, would mar the beauty of his productions, — if all this toil and care and dexterity are requisite to make a dead im- age, a lifeless, thoughtless, soulless copy of a soul, how much more toil and care and judgment are demanded in those who have the formation of the soul itself! June 28. This morning, received a call from Mr. Dwi°-ht on the subject of the Secretaryship; and as the meeting of the Board is appointed for to-morrow, and as he did not seem to have arrived at any certain conclusions in his own mind, I thought the rime had LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 79 already come when points should be stated explicitly. I therefore wrote to Mr. Dwight, saying that it would be better for the cause if the candidate who should be selected should appear to have been the first choice of the Board; that I therefore should feel it to be a duty to decline the honor of being voted for, unless it was bond fide my intention to accept; that I would accordingly regard the subject in its business aspects alone, and place the matter in a point of view not liable to be mistaken. I then stated, that, as I should have some professional business to close up, it had all along been my intention not to receive more than twenty-five hundred dollars for the first year; that as to subsequent years, if the Legis- lature should add any thing to the one thousand they have now appropriated as the salary of the Secretary, half of that addition should be added to the sum of twenty-five hundred until it became three thousand, but should not go beyond the latter sum; that by this it would become the interest of the Secretary so to discharge his duties as to gain the favor of the public; and that it was quite well in all cases, and with regard to all, to make their interest and their duty draw in the same direction, if possible. This was the substance of my letter; though it had the proper amount of inter- lardings and lubrifications. I tremble, however, at the idea of the task that possibly now lies before me. Yet I can now conscien- tiously say that here stands my purpose, ready to undergo the hardships and privations to which I must be subjected, and to en- counter the jealousy, the misrepresentation, and the prejudice almost certain to arise ; here stands my mind, ready to meet them in the spirit of a martyr. To-morrow will probably prescribe for me a course of life. Let it come ! I know one thing, — if I stand by the principles of truth and duty, nothing can inflict upon me any permanent harm.t June 29. I cannot say that this day is one to which I have not looked forward with deep anxiety. The chance of being offered a station which would change the whole course of my action, and consequently of my duties, through life, was not to be regarded with indifference. The deep feeling of interest was heightened by the reflection, that, in case of my receiving the appointment of Secretary of the Board of Education, my sphere of possible usefulness would 80 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. be indefinitely enlarged, and that my failure would forever force into contrast the noble duty and the inadequate discharge of it. The day is past. I have received the offer. The path of usefulness is opened before me. My present purpose is to enter into it. Few undertakings, according to my appreciation of it, have been greater. I know of none which may be more fruitful in beneficent results. God grant me an annihilation of selfishness, a mind of wisdom, a heart of benevolence ! How many men I shall meet who are accessible only through a single motive, or who are incased in pre- judice and jealousy, and need, not to be subdued, but to be re- modelled ! how many who will vociferate their devotion to the public, but whose thoughts will be intent on themselves ! There is but one spirit in which these impediments can be met with success : it is the spirit of self-abandonment, the spirit of martyrdom. To this, I believe, there are but few, of all those who wear the form of humanity, who will not yield. I must not irritate, I must not humble, I must not degrade any one in his own eyes. I must not present myself as a solid body to oppose an iron barrier to any. I must be a fluid sort of a man, adapting myself to tastes, opinions, habits, manners, so far as this can be done without hypocrisy or- insincerity, or a compromise of principle. In all this, there must be a higher object than to win personal esteem, or favor, or worldly applause. A new fountain may now be opened. Let me strive to direct its current in such a manner, that if, when I have departed from life, I may still be permitted to witness its course, I may behold it broadening and deepening in an everlasting progression of virtue and happiness. June 30. This morning I communicated my acceptance of the Secretaryship of the Board of Education. Afterwards I sat with the Board until they adjourned without day. I trren handed to the Governor the resignation of my membership of the Board. I now stand in a new relation to them; nor to them only: I stand in a new relation to the world. Obligations to labor in the former mode are removed; but a more elevated and weighty obligation to toil sup- plies the place of the former. Henceforth, so long as I hold this office, I devote myself to the supremest welfare of mankind upon earth. An inconceivably greater labor is undertaken. With the LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 81 highest degree of prosperity, results will manifest themselves but slowly. The harvest is far distant from the seed-time. Faith is the only sustainer. I have faith in the unprovability of the race, — in their accelerating improvability. This effort may do, apparently, but little. But mere beginning in a good cause is never little. If we can get this vast wheel into any perceptible motion, we shall have accomplished much. And more and higher qualities than mere labor and perseverance will be requisite. Art for applying will be no less necessary than science for combining and deducing. No object ever gave scope for higher powers, or exacted a more careful, sagacious use of them. At first, it will be better to err on the side of caution than of boldness. When walking over quag- mires, we should never venture long steps. However, after all the advice which all the sages who ever lived could give, there is no such security against danger, and in favor of success, as to under- take it with a right spirit, — with a self-sacrificing spirit. Men can resist the influence of talent; they will deny demonstration, if need be : but few will combat goodness for any length of time. A spirit mildly devoting itself to a good cause is a certain conqueror. Love is a universal solvent. Wilfulness will maintain itself against per- secution, torture, death, but will be fused and dissipated by kind- ness, forbearance, sympathy. Here is a clew given by God to lead us through the labyrinth of the world. July 1. This day I consider the first on which my official char- acter as Secretary of the Board commences. The acceptance was with an express condition, that I was to finish my professional busi- ness already commenced. That, however, will occupy but a small portion of my time, and it will be tapering off continually. I mean soon to commence reading and writing with express reference to the office. . . . July 2. Sunday. I heard Mr. Taylor this afternoon. How wonderfully rare it is to hear a sentiment of toleration uttered by a man who cares aught about religion ! A sceptic may well indorse the right of private judgment on religious subjects; for it is only an error on a topic which at least he holds to be worthless. But for one whose heart yearns towards religion; who believes it to be the "all,"—for such an one to avow, practise, feel, the noble senti- 6 82 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. ment of universal toleration, can proceed from nothiig but a pro- found recognition of human rights and the conscientious obedience to all their requirements. Yet such is Mr. Taylor. In my early life, I was accustomed to hear all doctrines, creeds, tenets, which did not exactly conform to the standard set up, denounced as heresies; their believers cast out from fellowship in this life, and coolly consigned to eternal perdition in the next. I think it would have made an immense difference, both in my happi- ness and character, had the genial, encouraging, ennobling spirit of liberality been infused into my mind when its sentiments were first capable of being excited on that subject. Then it would always have been a matter of ready impulse, of spontaneous feeling, instead of my being obliged to work out that problem of duty by the most painful efforts of the intellect. Mr. Mann might have here recorded a fact which helped to let the light in upon his mind. The Universalists were denounced then even more than now as God-for- saken, deistical sinners, wolves in sheep's clothing, out of the pale of Christian fellowship ; but within his neighbor- hood there lived a man of that much-maligned sect, who was remarkable for all the Christian virtues. Probably his love to God was not credited, even if he professed it: but his love for man was unquestionable; for it was proved by his beneficent deeds and his honorable deal- ings. It was heresy in the young Calvinists (who were the only ones likely to dare to think for themselves, — youth being naturally rebellious to tyranny) to look upon hu> virtues as any thing but godless works; but to a bold thinker it was a nucleus around which thoughts would cluster. Boston, July 2, 1837. My dear Friend, — How long it is since the light of your pen visited me ! It really is long, and probably it seems longer than it is. In the mean time, what a change in externals has befallen me ! I no longer write myself attorney, counsellor, or lawyer. My law- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 83 books are for sale. My office is "to let." The bar is nc longer my forum. My jurisdiction is changed. I have abandoned juris- prudence, and betaken myself to the larger sphere of mind and morals. Having found the present generation composed of mate- rials almost unmalleable, I am about transferring my efforts to the next. Men are cast-iron; but children are wax. Strength expend- ed upon the latter may be effectual, which would make no impres- sion upon the former. But you will ask what is the interpretation of this oracular ambi- guity. ' A law was passed last winter, constituting a Board of Edu- cation " consisting of the Governor and Lieut.-Governor, ex officiis, and eight other persons to be appointed by the Governor and Coun- cil;" which Board was authorized to appoint a Secretary, whose duty it should be "to collect information of the actual condition and effi- ciency of the common schools and other means of popular education, and to diffuse as widely as possible, throughout every part of the Com nonwealth, information of the most approved and successful modi of instruction." I have accepted that office. If I do not succeed in it, I will lay claim at least to the benefit of the saying, that in great attempts it is glorious even to fail. Thursday. I wrote thus far last Sunday, when I was inter- rupted, and have not had time since to finish this letter. . . . Al- though my mind is full of the subject of my new duties, yet my thoughts are almost chaotic; and they will continue, I suppose, for a lono- time, to fly round and round without order and harmony. I hope, however, that the time will come when they will subside, and cohere according to some law of intellectual and moral affinity. As yet, my task seems incomprehensibly great. I scarcely know where or in what manner to begin. I have, however, a faith as strong as prophecy, that much may be done. My intention is to leave the city for perhaps a few weeks, and go into the country (probably to Franklin), carry some books, and endeavor to think out something worthy of being acted. Some time early in September, I shall probably commence a circuit through the State, inviting conventions of instructors, school commit- tees, and all others interested in the cause of education, to be held in the different counties, and at such times avail myself of the op- 84 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. portunity to recommend some improvements, and generally to apply a flesh-brush to the back of the public. Now, out of your abun- dance, I shall expect you to contribute much to fill my small urn of experience and knowledge. I will be a conduit between you and the public for as much information as my gauge will enable me to convey. Do let me hear from you soon. Yours affectionately, H. MANN. July 3. What strikes me as most extraordinary in relation to my new office is, that every man, with the single exception of Dr. Channing, inquires concerning the salary, or makes remarks that look wholly to the comparative honor of the station; while no man seems to recognize its possible usefulness, or the dignity and eleva- tion which is inwrought into beneficent action. Does not the com- munity need to be educated half round the compass, until they shall cease to look upon that as the greatest good which is the smallest, and shall find the greatest good in what they now overlook, and by which their minds pass as unconsciously as though it had no ex- istence ? July 4. Celebrations during the day; parade of military com- panies; people turned out of doors, and houses shut up; this evening, fire-works on the Common, which was filled, crammed, — as a vintner would say, " a quart of spectators put into a pint of Common;" and all day I have not seen one staggerer! " Laus Deo, et societatibus temperantige ! " July 8. This week I have commenced in earnest, and with some degree of exclusive devotedness, a course of reading tending to qualify me for my new duties. I have long known that no man can apply himself to any worthy subject, either of thought or action, but he will forthwith find it develop into dimensions and qualities of which before he had no conception. If this be true of all sub- jects worthy of rational attention, how extensively true is it of the all-comprehending subject of education! This expansion of any object to which our attention is systematically directed may be com- pared to the opening of a continent upon the eye of an approaching mariner At first he descries some minute point, just "--"'"firing in LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 85 the distance, — the lofty summit of some mountain. As he upproach- es, other elevated points seem to rise out of nothing, and stand up in the horizon; then they are perceived to be connected together; then hills, cities, towns, plains, rivers, which the eye cannot count for their numbers, nor embrace for their distance, fill up the admiring vision. So it is in approaching any of the intellectual or moral sys- tems which Nature has established. Jidy 9. Sunday. Spent the main part of the day in reading James Simpson's work entitled " Necessity of Popular Education;" and, as I read and think upon the subject, that point, that speck, that dot, of which I spoke last night, grows larger and larger. Let it grow. I hope I shall have strength to explore some of its most important parts. July 10. Still following up the great labor of preparation. Have this day examined a great variety of articles designed for ap- paratus in instruction. Here, on this point of introducing appara- tus into common use, and thus substituting real for verbal know- ledge, I must endeavor to effect a lodgement in the public mind. July 13. Another striking instance has come to my knowledge, of a gentleman, whom I should have expected fully to appreciate the importance and the inherent dignity of my new office, expressing surprise that I should forego other expectations for its sake, and regret that its title did not indicate more fully the duties to be per- formed. If the Lord prospers me in this great work, I hope to convict such persons of error; and as to the title, of what conse- quence is that ? If the title is not sufficiently honorable now, then it is clearly left for me to elevate it; and I had rather be creditor than debtor to the title. ' July 14. My reading upon the subject of my new duties is very delightful. Nothing could be more congenial with all my tastes, feelings, and principles. What occupation more pure, more ele- vated, more directly tending to good, and. hence more self-sustain- ing ? So let it continue to appear to me, and it will make the resi- due of life more tolerable than I had ever supposed it could be. July 15. Still looking upon the externals of the magnificent temple which I hope some day to be less unworthy to enter. Had a conversation with Judge-----upon the subject, in which he 86 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. brought out in their fulness all his conservative and anti-movement notions. Is he not so much of a conservative that he is in great danger of conserving error? and, if error can only be conserved, how mightily will it grow of itself! Boston, July 16, 1837. My dear Sister, — You will be not a little surprised to learn how great a change has come over my course of business-life since I last saw you. I have quitted the profession of the law. I hope that no necessity will ever compel me to resume it again. But why, you would ask, and for what object ? I will tell you. . . . I have accepted the office of Secretary of the Board ; and, as it will occupy all my time (and is sufficient to occupy me in ten places at once if that were possible), I necessarily leave my profession in order to bestow upon it my undivided attention. Could I be as- sured that my efforts in this new field of labor would be crowned with success, I know of no occupation that would be more agreea- ble to me, — more congenial to my tastes and feelings. It presents duties entirely accordant with principle. . . . Some persons think it not wi^e to leave my profession, which has hitherto treated me quite as well as I have deserved : others profess to think that my prospects in political life were not to be bartered for a post whose returns for effort and privation must be postponed to another gen- eration ; and that my present position in the Senate would be fin- preferable to being a post-rider from county to county, looking after the welfare of children who will never know whence benefits may come, and encountering the jealousy and prejudice and misrepre- sentation of ignorant parents. But is it not better to do good than to be commended for having done it ? If no seed were ever to be sown save that which would promise the requital of a full harvest before we die, how soon would mankind revert to barbarism ! If I can be the means of ascertaining what is the best construction of houses, what are the best books, what is the best arrano-ement of studies, what are the best modes of instruction; if I can discover by what appliance of means a non-thinking, non-reflecting, non- speaking child can most surely be trained into a noble citizen ready to contend for the right and to die for the right, — if I can only obtain ai\d diffuse throughout this State a few good ideas on these LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 87 and similar subjects, may I not flatter myself that my ministry has not been wholly in vain ? . . . The laws which sustain our system of common-school instruction are scarcely better than they have been for a century and a half. If schools have improved, it has not been in consequence of any impulse given to them by gov- ernment. ... I intend to go to Franklin soon, to stay a week or two, to read on the new subject, to write an address, &c.; and if you will write to me there, and say you will come and stay a week or a few days, I will go for you. ... H. M. July 22. Have entered slowly upon my lecture, though a dys- peptic obscuration of intellect baffles the will. Dulness Jiever had a more copious subject. Indeed, its largeness, its infinity, embarrass me. It is like an attempt to lift the earth: the arms are too short to get hold of it. However, I hope to get hold of a few handfuls. ... Aug. 12. On Friday last, went to Boston, where I remained one week. . . . Accomplished considerable business in Boston. Prepared and issued circulars to the school committees of every town in the State, designating time and place for holding the pro- posed conventions iu each of the counties. As yet, nothing trans- pires which indicates at all in what manner the new mission will be received by the public. All is left for me to do. At the best, perhaps, I can only hope that the community is on a poise, and ready to be swayed one way or the other, according to the manner of putting on the weight. Sept. 15. . . • Northampton. This evening, had a long con- versation with-----------, who was on a visit to Northampton, on the subject of attempting to enlighten and elevate the masses; and have found him an infinite sceptic. He holds the British Govern- ment, of kings, lords, and commons, to be the best in the world, or that can be in it; that classes are essential, — one to work, the other to improve ; laments that the good old days of the aristocracy have o-one by, when no upstart could ever obtain ingress into their ranks; and thinks that one portion of mankind is to be refined and cultivated, the other to suffer, toil, and live and die in vulgarity. In the course of the conversation, he denied that the class he eulo- oized ever insulted those who started in life, as he would call it, 88 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. below them; and yet he insulted me and all my relatives twice most outrageously. That is their way. Beginning with the prin- ciple that they are from their birth superior, they are constantly acting it out in life, embodying it in conduct, and yet profess to be ignorant that they are committing the grossest indignities. A pow- erless, conceited, haughty race, who have little or nothing besides adventitious merit, — what would the poor insects do if they were deprived of that ? Therefore let them be pardoned; not for any repentance or improvement, — for of that they seem almost incapable, — but for their insignificance. Sept. 17. Yesterday, saw Mr. Lyman, who seems much inter- ested in the cause. The High School for Females is constituted substantially according to the free plan of Mr. Alcott, contained in one of the volumes of the American Institute of Instruction. Sept. 27. Found on my return a most encouraging letter from Dr. Channing, full of a spirit communing with my spirit. How different from the views entertained and expressed to me at North- ampton by Mr.-----! and how different must be the source from which such opposite sentiments flow ! Many of our educated men need educating much more than the ignorant. When shall we bring them both up to the level of humanity ? Perhaps never; but we will try. Oct. 8. Sunday. Have been over to see the Chapoquiddic Indians. Called on a number with their guardian, Mr. Thaxter, who, I think, is improving the habits and condition of the tribe. They have a meetinghouse-schoolhouse, "one and indivisible;" have had a Sunday school up to to-day, but are to have no more through the winter. Have next to no school among them, except. this Sunday school. They appear, I should think, pretty well for an Indian settlement; having about fifty inhabitants and one barn on their part of the island. A failing and white-man stricken race ! To-morrow is the day of the convention here. Oct. 10. This is Nantucket. Hither I have come to-day, gaz- ing and still gazing upon the ocean; while the feeling in my mind continually is, "I do not comprehend it yet." The mind is adapted to admire it as much as the web-foot of a sea-bird is to swim in it. A striking anecdote of intolerance was told me to-day. \ LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 89 Last Sunday, being at Edgartown, where there were only a Cono-re- gationalist, a Baptist, and a Methodist society, — all Orthodox,— I thought I would go over to Chapoquiddic and see the Indians; which I accordingly did, and availed myself as much as I could of my visit to exhibit an interest in their welfare, and to encourao-e them in well-doing. Monday, the next day, was the day for the convention at Edgartown, called to meet at ten o'clock, a.m. It met at that hour; and, after being in session an hour or two, ad- journed for the afternoon. One Rev. -----(reverend by courtesy, and a Christian by assumption), who came that morning from Tis- bury, —nine miles, —told a friend of mine that he had understood that I was in town the day preceding, and did not go to meeting : so that it seemed, forthwith, on the getting together of the godly, the question had been, whether I had the Congregationalist, Bap- tist, or Methodist ear-mark ; and, it being found that I was guilty of not having either, I was forthwith condemned; and, moreover, the Rev.-----said, that " if Mr. Mann was in town, and did not go to meeting, he had as lief not hear him as to hear him; " and further, that, if I did not wish to show a preference for either sect, I might have gone to hear each during the day, — thus giving me the alternative to hear three Orthodox sermons in one day, or be burned. I confess I had rather be burned ; at least, a little. Oct. 14. The convention has been: yet not wholly; for the meeting was unable to get through this evening, and has adjourned to Tuesday evening next. On the whole, a pretty good meeting; and, if the cause has any reason to complain, I have not. Oct. 17. . . . Barnstable. Went two and. a half miles out of my way to see an Indian school on the Marshpee District, kept by a Mr. Perry. If one may judge by appearances, that man has a high aim, and appeared very well at school, — invited and rather insisted upon my going home with him to ding. I found he lived in an In- dian house. His wife had the dinner ready, to which we sat down. It consisted of a piece of corned beef and vegetables, — potatoes, one carrot and one beet, and brown bread without butter, salt, or the slightest thing in the way of pickle, spice, or any condiment what- ever. There was no dessert. His "grace before meat" was less hurried than is usual, when, the rich viands being close by, and God 90 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. a great way off, the flavor of the meat prevails over the odor of the sanctity, and the thanksgiving hurries into the enjoyment. There this man labors for the children during the day, virits the people at night, and preaches to them on Sundays; and all the apparent re- ward is meat and vegetables without trimming, while the million- naires go for the several varieties of sensuality, and cannot afford time even to have a religious garment fitted upon their backs. But will not the time come when he will have the banquets of immortality, and they will have to gnaw the dry bones of the past for rations ? I trust I have left an impression favorable to the cause on the old sandy cape. But we will try whether the seed sown in such a soil will grow. Just a notice is given in the paper here of the educational meeting for next Tuesday,—about a square, not quite ; while a whole column is devoted to the proceedings of a county political convention : the reason given, indeed, for not being able to publish more, that the paper was occupied with political matters; and the relative spaces allowed show the relative importance of the two subjects in the public mind. Oct. 22. . . . To-day I have visited some of the graves of the Pilgrims. How little they saw, two centuries ago, of this present! Who can fathom future time ? Oct. 29. . . . Boston. Yesterday I witnessed the ceremony of the reception by the Mayor, at Faneuil Hall, of about thirty In- dians, fresh from the wilds of the West. On the very spot where we live, how many of them have trod ! now how" few their remnants ! Other men — nor other men only, but other forms of being — now exist where they existed. May it be for the better ! As specimens of the human race, the whole interview was mournful, together with the subsequent dance on the Common, — almost sceptic-making; but, in contrast with the vast powers of civilized man, it was full of encouragement and hope. How closely the red and the white man were brought together, speaking to each other, shaking hands! and yet how many centuries lie between them ! . . . Nov. 3. . . . Have been engaged all the week at court in Dedham, arguing causes. The interests of a client are small, com- pared with the interests of the next generation. Let the next gene- ration, then, be my client. . . . LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 91 Nov. 6. Glad to find Dr. Channing in the city. As I called on him to-day, he proposed that some gentlemen engaged in ameli- orating this pessimum world should have a " re-union " somewhere this winter. If we can devise any scheme to give it a hoist, I am willing to try the strength of my back. Dined with C. Sumner to-day, who is going to Europe soon. When he goes, there will be one more good fellow on that side, and one less on this. To-morrow for Salem, where I am not only to repeat my speech, but where I have engaged to lecture for the Lyceum. And, cer- tainly, never was a poor debtor so desirous to get well out of the hands of his creditor as I am to get well out of that engagement. I have been obliged to write it all on my last journey, and it has given me a waking nightmare all the time. . . . Nov. 10. Went to Salem as proposed. Met the convention; though that is almost too great a word to apply to so small a num- ber of men. But few were there. Mr. Rantoul did not come at all, Mr. Saltonstall but Uttle. Things had not been arranged be- forehand, and every thing dragged and stuck, — one of the poorest conventions I have had. I went to deliver a lecture before the Lyceum also, introductory to the couise. That was done last even- ing to a very good audience at the Tabernacle Church. But it was not the lecture I had prepared for the occasion. Some of those who heard the Educational Address called for a repetition of that: so they had it. I have been indebted to my friend Mr. Webb for many civilities while at Salem, and to as much assistance as it was in his power to render; but there my debts stop, not because of payment, but because I received nothing to owe for. A friend who was present at this convention says it was remarkable to see the apathy with which it opened. One gentleman, who made one of the first speeches, ques- tioned the expediency of endeavoring to get the edu- cated classes to patronize public schools. He spoke, he said, in the interest of mothers who preferred private schools for their children; and he believed the reasons that they had for this would always prevail: they would 92 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. have their children grow up in intimacies with those of their own class. No one spoke on the American side of this question; and the unanswered statement of this par- tial interest which the educated had in the public schools seemed to cast a chill over the meeting. No generous sentiment was touched. Another gentleman said he thought, that, preliminary to all things else, the Secretary should go round the State, and pass a day in every public school in it, and then make a report of their condition. After several sapient speeches like this had been made, Mr. Mann rose and said, that, if the gentleman who made the last proposition would take the trouble to do a short sum in arithmetic, he would find that it would take six- teen years for the Secretary to do this work, if he never intermitted one day. A general stir in the assembly intimated that suddenly the immensity of the work to be done struck their minds for the first time. It was also striking to others, though Mr. Mann did not recognize it, to see the effect of his remarkable address, which followed in the afternoon. The request made, that he should repeat it at the Lyceum in the evening, showed that it did not fall on unintelligent ears. An interesting portrait of him now hangs in the noble building erected for the Essex Normal School. To-day, returned to Boston. My great circuit is now completed. The point to which, three months ago, I looked forward with so much anxiety, is reached.. The labor is done. With much weari- ness, with almost unbounded anxiety, with some thwartings, but, on the whole, with unexpected and extraordinary encouragement, the work is done. That, however, is but the beginning. I confess, life begins to assume a value which I have not felt for five years before. Nov. 16. To-day I have examined the returns in the Secretaiy's LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 93 office, of which an abstract is to be made; and find they look very formidable. What an ocean of work hes spread out before me! Well, I am ready to plunge into it. Nov. 28. Shortly after accepting the office to whose duties I am now devoting my time and soul, I planned to give up my office- room, take one in some respectable place, and live in a man- ner more agreeable to my feelings than I can here in this law- yer's office, where I have slept about three years. Such an ar- rangement has now been made; and probably to-morrow I shall begin upon it, having taken rooms at Dr. H-----'s, corner of Tre- mont and School Streets. This, therefore, may be the last night 1 may sleep in this room, where I have been so long, and labored so severely, and — perhaps I may write it here alone without blush- ing— brought some things to pass. It is not stated, I believe, anywhere in these confessions, that after my irreparable loss, which made a far greater change in my soul than in my external condition, — though what of the kind could be greater than that ? — a misfortune of a different character, but comparatively light, befell me. It was comparatively nothing; yet, operating through my health, it aggravated other ills to a de- gree seemingly incapable of extension. I had become liable for my brother to the amount of many thousand dollars beyond the value of every thing I could command. His pecuniary misfortunes thickened upon him, so that he not only left me to pay his debts, but became necessitous, and called upon me in various ways to supply him still more. This I did to some extent, as far as I was able. When I found in what condition as to liabilities I really was left, I was living very comfortably. I changed my course entirely. I left my boarding-house, and after a time got a bed here, and have for about three years taken care of it with my own hands, restricted my expenses in every possible way, and lived out the storm. For a period of nearly six months, I was unable to buy a dinner on half the days. Suffering from hunger and exhaustion, overworked, I fell ill, and so remained for about two months; my best friends not expecting my recovery, and some of them, I sin- cerely believe, deprecating it as the infliction of further suffering. 94 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Since I have been here in this house of offices, a part of the time with no other person in the whole building, it has been twice set on fire by incendiaries right over my head, and several other attempts have been made. I have held my life as nought; for to me it has seemed to be worth nothing. I have toiled in despair, yet not com- plaining. Now that the debts are paid, and I can call my income my own, I mean not to endure those removable evils as I have done. Not a slight trouble in this accumulation has been the belief that there were those who ought to have at least showed me so much sympathy as to have offered to relieve me; but that has not been done. I confess it is not in my power to feel in that case just as I should be glad to. But perhaps I do not know all their views upon the subject. I pray God that these trials may now be over and past. Yet not that I would escape from them to fly into any that affect internal character or outward reputation. No : let come what may upon the body; let come what may to crush the intellect: my most earnest prayer is that the moral nature, the affections, the sense of justice and of right, may never be impaired. Let all tor- tures come, provided they are safe. Nov. 29. As I anticipated last night, I leave this office to- night, and somewhat of an epoch occurs in my life. May I not hope that at least the privations of which I have been the subject in this place may not continue to visit me at another residence ? May I not also hope, and with some confidence trust, that no change in external condition will weaken the strong purposes of my mind, or shake my resolution to devote what talents and what length of life I may have to some good purpose ? I now leave these walls, which have witnessed for the last three years so many disconsolate days, and so many sleepless and tearful nights. Nov. 30. Thanksgiving Day; but, oh, what days they are to me! and what a day would a real Thanksgiving Day be to me ! But it fills my heart too full; and fortunately I have been so busy to- day, that I have very much escaped the corrosion of my mind on itself. . . . Dec 2. Yesterday I went to Ipswich, and preached my preach- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 95 mont to a pretty full house. ... On the whole, perhaps it is well that I went where I can make a favorable impression, if it is but upon one man : it is something, and may turn the scale. Dec. 10. Last Friday I was at an anti-mob meeting in Faneuil Hall. Had I time, I would write out an account of the meeting, and of the views which such occurrences are bringing out. A----- made a speech so flagrantly wicked as to be imbecile. No part of it came up to the dignity of sophistry. Every part of it was what common indecency would blush at. How can a man either pervert himself so, or be so perverted ? But it is approaching the " witching time of night;" and, as I slept scarcely at all last night, I must try my luck to-night; and should I write what I feel, and all I feel, of that devil-oriment, it would either occupy me till morning, or it would give me an excite- ment equally incompatible with rest. So let me look forward to the children of the next generation, rather than around to the in- corrigible men of this. Dec. 15. On the evening of the 12th, the freshly elected Mayor gave a party which I attended; though I confess I neither appetize the parties nor the partisans very much. Thenceforth, in- cluding to-day, I have been hard at work, excepting last evening, when a re-union of certain gentlemen was held at Mr. Jonathan Phillips's. Dr. Charming, Dr. Tuekerman, Mr. E. Peabody, Mr. Bartol, and a young, unfledged theologian, made up the clerical side of the house : Ellis G. Loring and myself represented the lay gents. Dr. Cbanning introduced the subject of the meeting, which he had been the chief agent in getting together, by saying that he was desirous of meeting some friends in a social way, for the pur- pose, among other objects, of knowing what might be the actual condition of the public mind on certain vital principles. He wanted to know better than he did what sort of a world it was he was living in; what influences predominated in society; what was wrong, and what means could be devised to set the wrong right: His remarks had that perspicuity and distinctness which his mind imparts to whatever it handles. The conversation of the evening turned mainly upon the prevail- ing state of public opinion in this city respecting the Faneuil-Hall 96 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. meeting against mobs : and it seemed to be a very general opinion, that the opposition was not directed against abolitionists; that there was no settled determination or desire to debar them from the ex- pression of their opinions; but that their opinions were not the opinions of the people of the city, and therefore ought not to go out from Faneuil Hall, because the place whence they were sent might cause them to be mistaken abroad for Boston sentiments, and the authorities of the city would be understood as favoring and counte- nancing doctrines they discarded. Dec. 16. To-day, Hon. Jonathan Philbps has sent me the sum of $500. He has submitted it wholly to my disposal, to be ex- pended in the cause. It shall be expended in the cause, if I live ; and I hope to make it do something — a little, a very little — towards it. Dec. 18. Last evening, spent an hour or so in conversation with Mr. -----on the subject,* and this afternoon two hours more. On the whole, my# cavern has not been so much lighted up by this luminous body as I had anticipated. He may have such practical notions as a man long engaged in the practice must be compelled to learn; but his views certainly have not seemed to me very original or striking. This may be part guess-work, part inference, and all wrong; but it is at present the state of my mind. I hope I shall be compelled to alter it hereafter. Dec. 21. . . . To-night I heard Mr. Emerson's third lecture. Not so lucid, pellucid, as the other. He condensed the command- ments, as it regards young men, into two : "Sit alone," and " Keep a journal." The first, I think, is about equivalent to the " Know thyself: " the last, perhaps, is a more direct injunction, " Improve thyself." My practice has, for a long time, adopted the first; and this book speaks of the last. " Have a room by yourself," said he : " if you cannot without, sell your coat, and sit in a blanket." Dec. 31. The close of the year. I have not made an entry in this book for ten days, having been so engrossed in the printing of the Abstract of school returns and in the preparation of my Report. The last has cost me considerable labor. The Board meet to-morrow, * The educational enterprise. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 97 when it is to be presented. I have just been writing its last para- graphs ; and now, at the end of the day and of the year, shall try to get a little rest for this weary body and mind. One thing, how- ever, is certain. Severe as this labor is, it is surrounded with the most debghtful associations. I am sure I can perform much more in this than I could in any other cause. But to-morrow will prob- ably give me some indications about my Report. I shall present it with fear and trembling. It is not prudent to open my heart to the associations that would throng it if permission for their entrance were given. The year has gone: it has joined the past eternity. I shall go with some of them ere long. When will it be ? 7 CHAPTER IV. CONTINUATION OF JOURNAL. Jan. 1, 1838. This morning, read my Report to the whole Board, and have been, not on the shallows, but in the deep water of the fidgets ever since. I cannot tell how it has squared with their notions; for that is their test of right or wrong. I left the room to give them opportunity to let their minds run whither they would, without fear of running against me. Whether I should have been run down or crushed, railroad-fashion, had I been there, I know not. Whereupon, as the writs say by way of conclusion, I have not had a happy new year; and at this time of the night it has passed, beyond change. The time that comes to us is soft, yield- ing : like wax, we can shape it as we please. We take it, or per- haps scarcely take it: as it passes we give it a touch, or a careful, prayerful moulding; and now it is adamant! Yes : it is beyond miracle-working power. Omnipotence cannot alter or modify it. How wonderful! Now, nothing so flowing, so ductile, so shapable ; now, all that calls itself might on earth, or in or beyond the starry universe, cannot color it with a new tint, or give it a new attitude. It is eternal! Jan. 2. This morning the Board met, and, after a discussion of an hour or two, referred certain propositions to the Executive Com- mittee. A headache has extinguished me the rest of the day. To-morrow the Legislature convenes. Till to-day the last Gen- eral Court was prorogued. Till to-day my senatorial life lasts; to- day it ends. With good sleep, I shall wake up un-senatorial. So be it. I would not exchange this life, toilsome, anxious, doubtful as it is, and may be, to be at the head of the " grave and reverend " senators to-morrow. Probably I am breathing the few last political breaths I shall ever respire. This drives one's mind back a little to see how the political breaths have been breathed up to this time. 98 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 99 But I will not go deep into that, lest I should fail, through under or over estimate, of hitting the true mark. Jan. 6. Since my last entry, I am sorry to say, I have accom- plished but little labor; being obstructed, from some cause, in my mental machinery. I have, however, worried through with the Abstract; and, this very evening, have a copy of it complete. That work, therefore, which has been a most serious one, is com- pleted. To-day I go at my Schoolhouse Report, which I hope wjll prove to be beautiful schoolhouse-seed, or seed out of which beau- tiful schoolhouses will grow, — a whole crop of them. Jan. 16. To-day a meeting of the Executive Committee of the Board. The Governor had a sort of embryo report, —two or three life-points here and there, as in one end of an egg, where here and there an organ is visible, and the chick hovers half this side of the line, half, as yet, in night. Jan. 18. Yesterday, received an invitation to preach a preach- ment, in the Hall of the House of Representatives, on my hobby; and, to-night, have preached it. A pretty full house, though the weather was unpleasant: held them one hour and a half, stiller and stiller to the end. Feb. 3. This afternoon, have had a meeting, full of interest and promise, at Chauncey Hall, of all the teachers of the primary schools in the city. The object is to bring them together, once a week, to hear a lecture ; to converse on some topics relating to the subject in which they are all engaged; and not only to have a free communi- cation and exchange of the views which are now entertained, but, by turning the minds of so many persons to the facts suggested by their own experience, to improve and extend the valuable informa- tion that may now be possessed by all. The future meetings, it seems to me, promise very much in behalf of the children of the city. Mr. Russell is to deliver a course of lectures on elocution; and all subjects connected with teaching are to have their share of attention, especially that of moral training. Oh for success in this ! Feb. 7. Last night, lectured at Warren-street Chapel to pretty good listeners. To-morrow at Newton. I go in ignorance; but I wait the results. Do we not all reap exactly the harvest of which we have sown the seed ? . . . 100 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Feb. 10. This afternoon, attended the meeting of the primary- school teachers again, — all women ; and, after a lecture from Mr. Russell, Mr. C. Barnard and I addressed it in relation to modes of teaching. The meeting was very fully attended; as many as a hundred, I think, being present. This argues well. Why may we not have the primary schools much improved — doubled in value — in a single year ? I believe it may be done; I hope it will bo d^ne; I intend it shall be done, if I live that length of time to attend to it. That I should call making a mark. March 2. The lecture before the Diffusion Society is delivered. I had a small audience, but an attentive one. Many people who were attracted by Dr. Walker's name and subject, of course, would not come to hear me, as I have nothing like the first to attract them, and the subject of education attracts no fashion to listen to its claims. Well, how could I expect that a subject which the world knows so little and cares so little about would produce any interest ? It is left for some one to excite that interest. That is the work to be done. To that, in various ways and with all assiduity, I must ad- dress myself. If, after ten years of labor, people should remain as indifferent as at present, there may be reason for desponding; but now this very indifference is my impulse. If any thing can be done to push away some things which are before the eyes of men, and to put some other things in their places, I think it no rashness to say, " I'll try." I do not think I delivered the lecture well, — I was too much disconcerted, — but hope I may feel better next time. March 10. My second lecture was delivered last evening, with some evident hitchings on the seats now and then. Afterwards went to Mr. Dwight's, where a number of gentlemen were assembled to discuss the expediency of applying to the Legislature for a grant to aid in the establishment of Teachers' Seminaries. Considerable was said on both sides, but mostly on the pro side. But, after they had mainly dispersed, Mr. Dwight gave me authority to propose to the Legislature, in my own way, that $10,000 should be forthcoming from himself or others; and that at any rate he would be responsible for that amount to accomplish the object, provided the Legislature would give the same amount for the same cause. On Monday, it is LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 101 my intention to make a descent upon the two honorable bodies, and see if they cannot be so rubbed as to emit the requisite spark. This looks well. March 13. I had the satisfaction of sending the following com- munication to the Legislature : — To the President of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Gentlemen, — Private munificence has placed at my disposal the sum of $10,000 to promote the cause of popular education in Massachusetts. The condition is, that the Commonwealth will contribute the same amount from unappropriated funds in aid of the same cause; both sums to be drawn upon equally as needed, and to be disbursed, under the direction of the Board of Education, in qualifying teach- ers for our common schools. As the proposal contemplates that the State in its collective ca- pacity shall do no more than is here proffered to be done from pri- vate means, and as, with a high and enlightened disregard of all local, party, and sectional views, it comprehends the whole of the rising generation in its philanthropic plan, I cannot refrain from earnestly soliciting for it the favorable regards of the Legislature. Very respectfully, HORACE MANN, Secretary of the Board of Education. This appears to be glorious ! I think I feel pretty sublime ! Let the stars look out for my head ! . . . April 4. . . . To-morrow evening, I have engaged to lecture at Lynn. Query, how shall I hit the good shoemakers with my flights and gyrations? April 14. To-morrow afternoon, I have engaged to speak to Mr. Waterston's Sunday-school children at the North Church. This is a new field, and comes pretty close to preaching; but, when I preach, I hope I shall not forget, that, however near a live man 102 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. may get to heaven, he still sustains the main part of his relations to the earth. • April 16. . . . My Schoolhouse Report came out last Thurs- day. I think it will make the community of children breathe easier. . . . April 18. . . . To-day the Board of Education has been in ses- sion. Important business presents itself; among other things, the mode of disbursing the sum of $20,000, — half of which comes from Mr. Dwight, and half from the State. No definitive action can be had at this time ; but " eyes open " are the words. It is a difficult subject. The Legislature have fixed my salary as Secretary of the Board at $1,500; which will probably leave about $500 for my ordinary expenses and services, after defraying the extraordi- nary expenses. Well, one thing is certain: if I live, and have health, I will be revenged on them; I will do them more than $1,500 worth of good. Lectured at Charlestown to a good au- dience. April 28. . . . On Thursday afternoon, I went to Franklin to see my friends. Found my sister removed to another place with her family. The old home, the place where I was born, and spent the first sixteen years of my life, has passed into other hands. I have no ancestral pride about such things, which is generally little else than self-love flowing out copiously over connected objects; yet I shall never be able to pass the spot without deep emotions. There lived my father, of whom I remember little; and there, too, lived my mother, of whom I not only remember, but of whom, so far as I have any good in me, lam. That place, too, has been consecrated by the presence of the purest, sweetest, loveliest being, — my wife. You, my love, know nothing of the sufferings which belonged to these associations; or, if you do, you must have such knowledge and faith as to disarm them. May 13. . . . Have been reading Miss Edgeworth's excellent work on " Practical Education." It is full of instruction. I have been delighted to find how often the views therein expressed had been written out on my own thinking. Had I ever read the book before, I should charge myself with unconscious plagiarism. May 21. Returned from Boston to Franklin this evening with LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 103 bones and muscles all in one harmonious state of aching, — cum multis tossibus. Wednesday, met a committee for the county of Plymouth, and a few other gentlemen, and made a pretty full and explicit statement to them of the supposed views of the Board in regard to a seminary for teachers, by way of offering an inducement to the county to assist in the establishment of one in that county. To-morrow I am to go to Wrentham to confer with them there on the same subject. If we get Teachers' Seminaries, it will not be because they are of spontaneous growth. May 25. On Wednesday, held forth to the orthodox Procrustes of Franklin. A pretty good house, for the spring season, and for a country place. But in that house how few of those with whom, when a boy, I used to assemble ! Of the whole family, but two remain. Others, indeed, fill their places; and yet, even for them, there is not less of the pain of anxiety than of the pleasure of affec- tion. What is in the unseen future for them ? Towards what goal are they speeding ? What cup of sweets or of bitterness is min- gling for them? Solicitude asks these questions, and may ask them a thousand times. They will never be answered in season to win the good, or turn aside the evil. On the use alone of the proper means can any confidence of their safety be founded. And in how few points can I reach them, — older, and of a different sex ! If my wife were yet upon earth, she would give them such an example of loveliness and purity, that it would stand before them — full in their presence — alike in the light and in the darkness. That is gone, and can never be supplied. God save their innocence, their purity, their integrity ! May 27. . . . This week, the Board of Education meets. Much depends upon our movements to the cause directly, and still more to the cause indirectly. If we prosper in our institutions for teachers, education will be suddenly exalted; if not, its progress will be onward still, but imperceptibly slow. June 9. On Monday, the meeting of the Board of Education was held. . . . All the questions were decided in accordance with my views, and very much to my satisfaction. . . . My first labor is to prepare an address to be delivered on my fall circuit. This is a labor of incalculable importance. On the acceptability of my 104 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. address will, in no considerable degree, depend the success of the cause. I can do nothing alone. No one can do any thing alone. Others will act with me according as they are pleased with me. How necessary, then, that they should be pleased, not with a flashy pleasure, a pleasure flashing, and instantly expiring, but with an abiding satisfaction; one founded on just, generous, and elevated views; one that will connect itself with the higher faculties, and, by being founded upon them, will partake somewhat of their grandeur and duration, and not on the lower propensities, that act so treacherously, and expire so quickly ! After lecturing on the circuit at Nantucket and Edgar- town, where he was requested to repeat his lecture in the Orthodox church, after having delivered it once, and where a deputation of young men met him on his way to Holmes Hole, with a request to deliver it there, he lectured again at Falmouth, and finished the tour in that direction with a convention in Barnstable. To others his progress seemed like a triumphal procession, though his foreboding fears threw over it all a pall of apprehen- sion ; for it was one of his peculiarities, to be ashamed of his lectures until he had tested them by the interest of an audience. He had no misgivings about the righteousness of his cause, and the general views he took of it, but the greatest doubt about his own ability to present them adequately. Sept. 4. In the morning, I lectured in Hanover. In the after- noon, Mr. Rantoul spoke business-like on the subject of Normal schools. Mr. Putnam followed him with a speech made up of equal parts of sound sense and good feeling. The ex-president made a most admirable speech, and one Daniel Webster followed him; and it was, indeed, a great day for the cause of common schools. Sept. 5. Have spent the day at the hospital in Worcester, administering the affairs of that institution. The thino- there sought LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 105 for seems to be, not more happiness, but less suffering; and why is not the latter as high an object as the former ? . . . Sept. 11. To-day the meeting of the convention has been in Springfield; and, in point of numbers, a miserable meeting it has been. It is at once discouraging and impulsive; for if they, as yet, do so little, there is more — still more — need of effort. Sept. 17. Pittsfield. Meeting not numerous, but the two or three individuals of themselves equal to a meeting; Miss Catherine Sedgewick, for instance. Sept. 20. To-day I have attended a grand temperance conven- tion in Northampton. That movement is most encouraging If temperance prevails, then education can prevail; if temperance fails, then education must fail. To-morrow I must address the people in this town, where great expectations have been raised. Sept. 21. The day has passed ; and, just as the hour for attend- ing my address arrived, a furious rain set in, which deterred many people, and left rather a sparse population in the great house where we assembled. • . Sept. 27. Worcester. Attended the Common-school Association meeting yesterday ; and to-day have had a benefit of my own. On ' the whole, I think a little dent has been made in this place. Oct. 6. Went to Salem and to Topsfield, where the convention for Essex County was appointed. We had a most beautiful day, but a most pitiful convention in point of numbers. In point of respectability, very good, as they always are. . . . Ah! how much remains to be done ! Oct. 8. To-day I have had the pleasure of being introduced to George Combe, Esq., of Edinburgh, who has lately arrived in this country, the author of that extraordinary book, " The Constitution of Man," the doctrines of which, I believe, will work the same change in metaphysical science that Lord Bacon wrought in natural. . . . Oct. 10. Last evening, went to Taunton. To-day, have had a grand convention there. Had the good fortune to be accompanied by George Combe, Esq., and lady, from Edinburgh. Found them most sensible people ; and him, whom I saw most, full of philosophy an I philanthropy. He has, this evening, delivered the first in his 106 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. course of phrenological lectures in this city, — a good lecture to a good house. I am rejoiced at an opportunity to form an acquaint- ance with a man so worthy and so profound. And thus ends my peregrinating for the current year. I may have a meeting in this city; and then the conventions will be over. When I undertook the arduous labor of effecting improvements in our common-school system, up to a reasonable and practicable degree, I did so with a full conviction that it would require twenty or twenty-five years of the continued exertions of some one, accom- panied with good fortune, to accomplish the work; and I think I took hold of it with a cordiality and resolution which would not be worn out in less than a quarter of a century. I am now of the opinion that one-twentieth part of the work has been done. This is a fitting place in which to say, that, for one con- vention authorized to be held by the Secretary, he had during this year held four or five, the extra occasions being at his own expense. He continued to do this through his whole occupation of the office, and was occa- sionally assisted by the contributions of friends to a very small amount. The same may be said of the Teachers' Institutes, a sort of temporary Normal school afterwards established. In the Teachers' Institutes he often labored alone for days. Oct. 12. Have heard Mr. Combe lecture again this evening. He considered the effects of size in organs, and of temperaments, — all very well. I hope, if I get no new ideas from him, I shall at least be able to give some definiteness and firmness to existing ones. He is a man of a clear, strong head, and a good heart. Oct. 20. For the past week, have been principally engaged in preparing the first number of the " Common-school Journal," — a periodical, the publication of which I intend soon to commence. . . . To-morrow evening I go to Brighton to lecture on my hobby- subject. Oct. 27. The past week has not brought much to pass. . . . Have attended three excellent lectures by Mr. Combe. They are LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 107 very interesting, drawing clear distinctions between the mixed-up virtues and vices of men. Last Saturday there appeared in the " New-York Observer " the first of a series of articles against the Massachusetts Board of Educa- tion, and probably their Secretary, professing to inquire into the bear- ings of the action of the Board in regard to religious teaching in the schools. They are addressed to Dr. Humphreys. Probably they will have no difficulty in making out that the Board is irreligious; for with them religion is synonymous with Calvin's five points. As for St. James's definition of it, " Pure religion and undefiled is to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction," &c.; and that other definition, " Do justly,, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God," — the Orthodox have quite outgrown these obsolete no- tions, and have got a religion which can at once gratify their self- esteem and destructiveness. They shall not unclinch me from my labors for mankind. Oct. 29. . . . Have heard Mr. Combe again this evening. Ho is a lover of truth. If any man seeks for greatness, let him forget greatness, and ask for truth, and he will find both. Nov. 10. It is a long time since I have made an entry here, because I have been deeply engaged, and have had nothing of per- manent interest to record. To-day I have sent the last of my man- uscript for the first number of the " Common-school Journal." It is an enterprise whose success I look forward to with great anxiety. It will cost me great labor. I hope to be repaid in the benefits it may produce. My reputation in no small degree rests upon it. Oh ! give me good health, a clear head, and a heart overflowing with love to mankind. Nov. 15. Constant engagements prevent my entering my thoughts lately so often as I would. Mr. Combe's course of lec- tures, wliich is just finished, has occupied me a good deal, and to-night a splendid entertainment has been given him. To-morrow evening, I lecture at Chelsea. And so the time flies; and every day I have to ask myself what impression I am making, what I am doing in the great cause I have in hand. God prosper it, and enable me to labor for it! Nov. 17. To-day the first number of the " Common-school 108 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Journal " has been issued. With this I hope to awaken some at- tention to the great subject I have in hand. It must be made an efficient auxiliary, if possible. I know it will involve great labor ; but the results at the end, not the labor at the beginning, are the things to be regarded. This periodical fully answered the purpose for which it was established. It was continued for ten years, and con- tains not only Mr. Mann's best thoughts upon all the topics treated in it, but all the Annual Reports made to the Board during his Secretaryship. Friends contributed valuable papers to it also. It is a work which has been sought by those interested in education all over the world, even in the heart of Asia; and the numbers left after the work stopped had a regular sale as long as complete sets could be made out from them. In looking forward to the probable condition of our country after the close of this war, when the whole extensive area of it will be opened to free institutions, of which public schools will be an inevitable feature, certainly following the occupa- , tion of any portion of its territory by Northern men, a re- publication of it may be desirable. It would be the best possible accompaniment of the introduction of a common- school system in any region where the political conditions of things make such a system possible. Mr. Mann had frequent correspondence with Southern gentlemen upon the subject; but it always ended in the conviction that there could be no common schools established in a region where equality before the law was not even desired for all classes of white men. In the rural districts it was simply impossible. New Orleans is the only city where an at- tempt was made; and there, under the judicious super- intendence of Mr. J. Shaw, something very creditable was effected; though it could in no wise compare with the results to be obtained where justice was, to say the least the prevailing theory. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 109 Nov. 25. Since my last entry, I have suffered from severe in- disposition, and been utterly unable to accomplish any of the labors upon my hands. This is most unfortunate; for time grows short, while labor is long. I am a perpetual memento to myself of the value of health, and therefore of the pains that should be be- stowed in childhood and infancy in taking the necessary steps for its production, and in bestowing the habits, which, except under most adverse circumstances, will insure its enjoyment. Could I live my life over again, I think I should adapt the means for its better preservation and invigoration; and yet, if, with my present knowledge, I do not obey the laws upon which it is dependent, how can I be sure, that, were I permitted to re-enact the scenes of life, I should be more wise, though I might be more learned? But, though the past is gone, the future is, to some extent, my own. If any assault was made uppn the Board, it was Mr. Mann's habit to disarm opposition, if possible, privately; and the following is an attempt of that kind. The prog- ress of the work was often impeded by such assaults, arising from private disappointments of book-makers or ambitious men. Mr. Storrs was ever afterwards a cor- dial friend. Boston, Jan. 19, 1839. Rev. Dr. Storrs. Dear Sir, — Three days ago, I met my friend Mr. Louis Dwio-ht; when our conversation turned upon the strictures lately made in the "Boston Recorder" upon the Board of Education and myself. I said to Mr. Dwight that those animadversions were without a shadow of foundation ; that they were cruel; that they were making my labors, aheady greater than I feel able to perform, still more arduous and anxious. Yesterday, Mr. Dwight was kind enough to call on me with the editor. The latter opened the subject of the articles in a very proper spirit and manner, and professed a desire to have any misapprehension rectified. I referred him to the extraor- dinary meaning which had been forced upon the word " sectarian- 110 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. ism " in the prospectus of the " Common-school Journal; " to the declaration of the existence of ground for suspicion that I had ma- tured in my own mind and deliberately resolved on a plan for the "exclusion of the religion of the Bible from our schools;" to the further declaration, that a simple perusal of the documents of the Board had caused suspicions to spring up in all parts of the Commonwealth that such a plan was concerted ; and that the "mere existence of the suspicions was strong presumptive evidence that they were not wholly without foundation;" and what was per- haps worst of all in its natural effects, an expression, made in an apparent spirit of charity, of a strong inclination to believe that the Secretary is honest in his belief that the Board of Education cannot, without violation of law, allow books that treat on religious sub- jects to be placed on the desks of our schoolrooms. I then stated to him that the Board had never published any document authorizing the slightest suspicion, either against themselves or against me, like the one here referred to; that, so far from my entertaining a belief that it would be illegal to have any books treating of religious subjects on the desks of the schoolrooms, the very contrary was one of the most prominent points in my Report of last year, wherein I had at once exposed and deplored the absence of moral and religious in- struction in our schools, and had alleged the probable reason for it; viz., that school committees had not found books, expository of the doctrines of revealed religion, which were not also denominational, and therefore, in their view, within the law, and not that books which did not infringe the law should be excluded. He then told me that you were the author of those articles; and both he and Mr. Dwight seemed desirous that I should address you a note on the subject, and send you a copy of the only document which has yet been published by the Board, — they supposing that you had been misled by some letters addressed to Dr. Humphreys, which letters were instigated by the fact that the Board and myself would not become instrumental in introducing the American Sunday- school Library into our common schools. Allow me to say, sir, that, by an examination of the law, you will find that the Board have no authority, direct or indirect, over school-books; and that you will see, by a letter addressed to me by LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Ill name, a week ago, through the columns of the " Recorder," that a jealousy exists among your religious friends, even of a recommenda- tion of school-books by the Board. I will also state, that by the rules and regulations for the government of Normal schools, where the Board has power, they had decided, before the appearance of P-----'s wicked pamphlet, that the principles of piety and morality common to all sects of Christians should be taught in every Normal school, and that a portion of the Scriptures should be daily read. I hope, sir, that my motives in writing this letter may be justly appreciated. I loathe controversy, especially at a time when the efforts of every good man are necessary in the work of improvement. I have no spirit for controversy, nor time nor strength to devote to it. To exclude all chance of my being involved in it, I must beg you to consider this letter as confidential, except so far as it regards Mr. Willis and Mr. Dwight, at whose request it is written. Yours very respectfully, HORACE MANN. P. S. — The "Trumpet" directly and repeatedly has charged the Board with the intention to introduce religion into the schools, from the same evidence wliich others interpret so differently. Boston, Feb. 11,1839. George Combe, Esq. My very dear Sir, —... We are all very glad to hear of your success and acceptability where you have been. When any meeting occurs among the members of your class, you are always remembered. We see that there will be a new earth, at least, if not a new heaven, when your philosophical and moral doctrines prevail. It has been a part of my religion for many years that the earth is not to remain in its present condition forever. You are furnishing the means by which the body of society is to be healed of some of its wounds heretofore deemed irremediable. They are doctrines which cause a man's soul to expand beyond the circle of his visiting-cards; that recognize the race a$ beings capable of pleasure and pain, of elevation or debase- 112 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. ment. Many men have no more reaUzing belief of the human race than they have of " Anthropophagi, aud men Whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders ; " and I have always thought that this practical disbelief in the existence of the creature had, at least, as bad an effect upon the character as a disbelief of the Creator. You observe, in your letter, that your audiences fell off from eight to ten per cent in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, when you lectured on the moral sentiment. Now, my dear sir, are you not mistaken in this statement, in regard to Boston? We all observed otherwise. We think there was an increase in your audience here, both in numbers, and in attention, and in pleasure too, if that were possible, when you expatiated upon the foundations of justice, reverence, and goodness. Pardon me for being a little sensitive on the subject; for we should think our character some- what involved in it. We think, on this point, we could not defend ourselves by quoting from Dr. Franklin, who said that revivals in religion always made him think of a scarcity of grain: those who had enough said nothing about it, while those who were destitute made all the clamor. . . . Please make my regards acceptable to Mrs. Combe ; and believe me when I say that I am a better man for having become acquainted with your mind and yourself. I hope all your leisure time will be spent in our neighborhood. Yours very truly, HORACE MANN. Boston, March 25, 1839. G. Combe, Esq., Philadelphia. My very dear Sir,— . . . There have been some striking conversions, since you were here, to the religious truths contained in your " Constitution of Man." Some of these have happened under my own ministry. A youn» graduate of one of our colleges wrote me, a few months since, to inquire in what manner he could best qualify himself for teachino-. He had then been employed in teaching for two years, after having received a degree. I told him, that, in the absence of Normal LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 113 schools, I thought he had fjctter take up his residence in this city, visit the schools, make himself acquainted with all the various pro- cesses which various individuals adopt to accomplish the same thing, and read all the best books that can be found on the subject. He accordingly came ; and, when he applied to me for a list of books, I, of course, named your "Constitution" as the first in the series. After about a fortnight he called on me, and said he had read it through with great pleasure, but did not think he had mastered the whole philosophy. A few days after, he came again, not a little disturbed: he had read it again, comparing it with his former notions (for he was highly orthodox), and found that the glorious world of laws which you describe was inconsistent with the miser- able world of expedients in which he had been accustomed to dwell. I spent an entire evening with him, and endeavored to explain to him that your system contained all there is of truth in orthodoxy; that the animal nature of man is first developed; that, if it con- tinues to be the active and the only guiding power through life, it causes depravity enough to satisfy any one ; but if the moral nature, iu due time, puts forth its energies, obtains ascendency, and controls and administers all the actions of life in obedience to the highest laws, there will be righteousness enough to satisfy any one; that, if he chose, he might call the point, where the sentiments prevailed over the propensities, the hour of regeneration; nor was the phrase — a second birth — too strong to express the change; that this change might be wrought on the hearing of a sermon, or when suffering bereavement, or in the silence and secrecy of meditation, or on reading Mr. Combe's " Constitution of Man; " and, as God operates upon our mental organization through means, these might be the means of sanctifying us. He adopted my views on the sub- ject, and is now, I believe, a convert beyond the danger of apostasy. But, my dear sir, I have occupied so much space with this case of conversion, that I have little for other things I wished to say. . . . Very truly yours, HORACE MANN. March —. This afternoon, attended the anniversary meeting of the Warren-street Chapel Association, and heard a very interesting 8 114 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. report read by Rev. Charles Barnard. No remarks were made. Fifteen hundred children have been connected with the institution since it was opened. Had Sir J. Herschel been here to tell of fifteen hundred new stars which he had catalogued in the southern hemisphere, would he not have excited a much deeper interest, and had many more hearers ? This institution seeks out those children who seem to be outside of all the favorable influences of civilization. As shadows are always deepest where the light is brightest, those who are in the shadow of the bright light of civilization are in the deepest darkness. Our institutions for moral, social, and religious improvement, seem to have, in most instances, answered their end, or fulfilled their promise, when the community have been brought within the circle of their action; but a portion of the community are outside that circle, and therefore are even worse situated, relatively, than they would be in a less advanced state of society. These need an institution like the chapel. March 31. Engaged to lecture four times this week, at Lynn, Salem, and Newburyport. Oh my poor body ! June 13. . . . Went to Nantucket, saw Mr. Pierce, obtained the consent of the school committee for his discharge from his engage- ments to them, and returned yesterday worn down with fatigue. But, at last, I believe we have a competent principal for one of our Normal schools; and this is a subject for unbounded re- joicing. June 21. Attended on Thursday a meeting of the Executive Committee of the Board to act upon a proposition from Prof. New- man. . . . Thus the two schools at Lexington and Barre are now provided for, and I am relieved of a weight of anxiety and care which has been almost too much for me. The subject of Normal schools now became the one which Mr. Mann considered of the fust importance, and Mr. Pierce proved to have qualifications for his vocation even beyond his expectations. He not only knew how* to teach with precision, but he evoked from his pupils, for the reception of his teaching, such a force of conscience LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 115 as insured thorough study and assimilation of whatever was taught. When Mr. Mann first visited his school in Nantucket, he was charmed by the evidence of power that the whole management and all the recitations of the school evinced; and, when he spoke of it afterward to gentlemen of the place, one of the most respectable citi- zens said to him that he had lived forty years on the South Shore, and could always tell Mr. Pierce's scholars, whenever he met them in the walks of life, by their mode of transacting business, and by all their mental habits, which were conscientious, exact, reliable. Mr. Pierce had taught in that vicinity the greater part of those years. From that time, Mr. Mann had his eye upon him; and he always felt that to Mr. Pierce was chiefly owing the very rapid and unquestionable value, in all eyes, of this new movement. Those who were conversant with his modes of instruction, and of appeal to the sense of intel- lectual and moral duty in his pupils, can pick them out, even now, from other teachers. This characteristic of the school was handed down many years through the influence of his early pupils, two of whom were professors in Antioch College. June 14. Last evening and this, attended Mr. Espy's lectures on the Law of Storms. He certainly starts upon a fair philosophic basis, and seems to advance nothing visionary or extravagant. No doubt the motion of every particle both of wind and vapor has its law, and so of all particles in combination; and why should not ob- servation and reflection discover what that law is ? ... So far as we know the operations of the Deity, he seems to work by fixed, inva- riable laws; and special interpositions give place, in the opinions of men, just as fast as science advances. This gives glorious augury. July 2. To-moi-row we go to Lexington to launch the first Nor- mal school on this side the Atlantic. I cannot indulge at this late hour of the night, and in my present state of fatigue, in an expression of the tit in of thought which the contemplation of this event awa- 116 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. kens in my mind. Much must come of it, either of good or of ill. I am sanguine in my faith that it will be the former. But the good will not come itself. That is the reward of effort, of toil, of wisdom. These, as far as possible, let me furnish. Neither time nor care, nor such thought as I am able to originate, shall be wanting to make this an era in the welfare and prosperity of our schools; and, if it is so, it will then be an era in the welfare of mankind. July 3. The day opened with one of the most copious rains we have had this rainy season. Only three persons presented them- selves for examination for the Normal School in Lexington. In point of numbers, this is not a promising commencement. How much of it is to be set down to the weather, how much to the fact that the opening of the school has been delayed so long, I cannot tell. What remains but more exertion, more and more, until it must succeed? Aug. 11. Still at Cape Cottage (near Portland), where I have been enjoying the society of Mr. Combe, who is, on the whole, the completest philosopher I have ever known. Ideas so comprehen- sive and just, feelings so humane and so true, I think I have never known before combined in the same individual. It has indeed been a most agreeable, and I think instructive, visit to me. . . . Mr. Combe comprehends how he is made, and why he was made, and he acts as the laws of his nature indicate ; and, by submitting to the limitations which the Deity has imposed on his nature, he is enabled to perform the duties which the Deity requires of it. Aug. 19. Great Barrington. ... To make an impression in Berkshire in regard to the schools is like attempting to batter down Gibraltar with one's fist. ... My health fails. I may perish in the cause; but I will not abandon it, and will only increase my efforts as it needs them more. Aug. SI. Greenfield. There was not encouragement at North- ampton. Ah me ! I have hold of so large a mountain, there is much danger that I shall break my own back in trying to lift it! I could not shake the dust, but only the mud, off my feet ao-ainst them. But to have any ill feeling toward them would only turn apathy into hostility; and as for despondence, the cause is so ay no attention to it — to ask you to furnish me, during your residence in Germany, with a series of letters in relation to the German schools,—their course of studies, modes of instruction, discipline, order, qualifications of teachers, attainments of scholars, results, &c.; any thing, in fact, which you could write without much labor, and 160 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. which would be most interesting to our people, and most beneficial to our schools, whose condition and wants you well know. I think your charity could not find a more useful channel to flow out in; and it would be most delightful to me to spread your wise thoughts abroad amongst this numerous people,—more numerous than great. I have got out my Fifth Annual Report. It is mainly addressed to the organ of acquisitiveness, and therefore stands some chance of being popular. In our Legislature, this winter, there is a very good feeling towards the Board and its improvements. The Rev. Dr. Palfrey, editor of the " North-American Review," has cut theolo- gy, and become a politician. He is Chairman of the Committee on Education in the House. All the committees of both houses are friendly to the cause; my two best friends there, Mr. Quincy, and Mr. Kinnicut of Worcester, being respectively President of the Senate, and Speaker of the House. If they could not give me good committees, of what use would it be to have one's friends in these offices? A bill is now pending before the Legislature to grant further aid for the continuance of the Normal schools, and to en- courage, by a small bonus, the respective districts of the State to purchase a small school-library. We have pretty strong hopes that it will pass. Mrs. Combe's parts of your " Notes " have been very much and universally admired : they are golden threads interwoven into the solid and enduring fabric of your own mind. I wish I had power equal to my will to bless her, and then there should be no room left for doubt as to quantity or quality. Some of my friends have been trying to send me to England; but, while you are away, the whole island seems to me empty. When it is inhabited again, perhaps I may go to see it. Lord Morpeth and Dickens are both in this country. Our political condition is very extraordinary; but I have not time to describe it. Most affectionately yours, HORACE MANN. Feb. 28. To-morrow there is to be a grand celebration at Salem, on account of the improvement and extension of their school-system. A great change has been effected in that city, — a new body and LTFE OF HORACE MANN. 1.61 a new soul; new schoolhouses, and a new spirit among the teachers ; and to-morrow is to be a, fete-day. In the evening I am to lecture ; and on Wednesday evening I am to endeavor, by a lecture in Brookline, to carry out a plan for the establishment of a high school there. March 3. The brightest days which have ever shone upon our cause were yesterday and to-day. Yesterday, resolves passed the House for granting $6,000 per year for three years to the Normal schools; and fifteen dollars to each district for a school-library, on condition of its raising fifteen dollars for the same purpose. Language cannot express the joy- that pervades my soul at this vast accession of power to that machinery which is to cany the cause of education forward, not only more rapidly than it has ever moved, but to places which it has never yet reached. This will cause an ever-widening circle to spread amongst contemporaries, and will project influences into the future to distances which no cal- culations can follow. But I am too much exhausted to raise a song of gratulation that shall express my feelings. Yesterday I breakfasted at Salem; came to the city; found that all possible exertion was necessary; worked all day; and at evening went to lecture at Brookline, to fulfil an engagement; and returned at half-past nine, having spent the day without another meal. To-day I have been hardly less busy. But the great work is done ! We must now use the power wisely with which we have been intrusted. March 8. The joy I feel on account of the success of our plans for the schools has not begun to be exhausted. It keeps welling up into my mind, fresh and exhilarating as it was the first hour of its occurrence. I have no doubt it will have an effect on my health as well as my spirits. The wearisome, depressing labor of watch- fulness which I have undergone for years has been a vampire to suck the blood out of my heart, and the marrow out of my bones. I should, however, have held on until death; for I felt my grasp all the tune tightening, not loosening. I hope I may now have the power of performing more and better labor. March 27. I am not well; but the success of the last session n 162 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. is a perpetual spring of joy, throwing up continually sweet waters of satisfaction. April 17. I have been busy with lecturing and my Report. Incredible pleasure and relief of mind are shed over my whole time by the glorious success of the cause in the Legislature. April 24. I understand that eighteen thousand copies of my last Report to the Board have been printed in Albany, for distribu- tion. Tins will carry it to many minds; and, if it does any good, I shall be paid for all my labor. It is also translated into German. May 10. • Niagara Falls. . . . The convention at Utica lasted till Friday. I arrived about ten-o'clock this morning at Lockport. having travelled most uncomfortably in the canal-boat all night; thence to this place. I ran down to catch a hasty view of the Falls; but, being much exhausted, returned to dine. After dinner, I sal- lied forth, and have spent four hours on my feet, going from point to point, and gazing in astonishment and awe upon this great and varied work of Nature. The emotions it has excited I cannot now attempt to describe, — perhaps never; but commonplaces of amazement and admiration ill befit this unique wonder of the world. May 17. Spent a, day at Richmond, a border town of this State; and, so far as their interest in schools is concerned, they are on the borders, at least, of civilization, if not a little on the other side. When will Berkshire rise from her degradation ? May 22. Yesterday, commenced the great labor of another Ab- stract. This is an appalling undertaking; and were it not for its utility, which I see more plainly than ever seed-sower saw the future harvest, its very aspect would repel me from attempting to perform it. But I go into it with good heart and zeal; and, if my strength will only hold out, I shall count the toil more fondly than ever " a confined boy looked forward to his pastime." Mr. Mann had no clerk, and no appropriation was made for one; and as he at this time spent all his salary, except what was sufficient for his bare necessities of board, lodging, and something to wear, in his office, he was obliged to do all his own writing and copying. He LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 163 had no other assistance than what a friend occasionally insisted upon rendering him when his strength was seen to be nearly exhausted. But he worked now with pleas- ure, where formerly only hope illumined his efforts. July 3. To-morrow is an eventful day for me. I find that ex- pectations of my coming oration are raised high in some quarters; and it will be difficult, if not impossible, for me to satisfy them. But all that my strength and time enabled me to do I have done ; and nothing remains but to submit it to the terrible ordeal of public opinion. Before twenty-four hours have passed, I shall know something of whether the great object I have in view — that of favorably influencing the public mind on this question of education — will be likely to be answered or not. July 19. How weary a life this would be if my soul were. not in it! but it is, and this renders the toil a pleasure. I see my efforts yielding their fruits; and God grant they may be so abundant that all mankind may be filled! Have been making a short visit at my friend Mr. Quincy's, in Quincy. At this period, the Rev. Cyrus Pierce, who had so nobly fulfilled his part in the educational work, as Principal of the Normal School, failed in health, wholly in consequence of the too great labor he had performed. When the Normal School at Lexington was first opened, the means for its support were very scanty ; and, during the time of its location there, Mr. Pierce not only did all the teaching, but superintended the interests of the boarding-house, and even rose every day at three o'clock to see that the fires were built; allowing himself, for a great part of the time, only three hours sleep. No one but a thoroughly consci- entious teacher has any conception of the labor of keep- ing a good school. The exercises of school-hours form but a small part of that labor. The private study and prepa- ration, especially in a school of advanced character like a Normal school, where not only things are to be taught, 164 LIFE OF HORACE MANX. but the best modes of teaching are to be considered, com- pared, discussed, tried, and watched over in the model school in which the pupils of the higher school practise their art under close criticism of the principal (and, in that case, Mr. Pierce was principal of both schools, passing from one to the other daily, with every faculty stimulated to its keenest work, in order to do justice to both), — this study and preparation, I repeat, were almost beyond the power of man to endure: and Mr. Pierce, though of the firmest fibrous temperament, became the victim of intense neuralgic pain, which obliged him to relinquish his office. Mr. Mann's grief at this necessity was inexpressible; but he was obliged to look round, among the friends whom the progress of the cause had brought to his notice, for a successor. At this date, he wrote the following letter to Rev. S. J. May, who for the three succeeding years so ably filled the post vacated by Mr. Pierce: — Boston, July 27, 1842. Rev. S. J. May. My dear Sir, — ... The object of this note is to inquire, in an entirely confidential and unofficial manner, whether you will so far entertain the proposition as to allow me to present your name to the Board of Education for the Principalship of the Normal School at Lexington. . . . My dear sir, neither my time nor my disposition allows me to in- dulge in compliment. You know something of what I think a Nor- mal school-teacher should be. With such opinions as I have of the quahfications for that office, you need no words of assurance of my regard for and opinion of you. . . . Very truly and sincerely yours, &c, HORACE MANN. Aug. 14. The American Institute of Instruction is to meet at New Bedford this week, and I shall probably lecture there. The meeting is important, and in that part of the State there is much LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 165 need of a revival in educational matters. The soil of Bristol County is so thirsty, that it would absorb all the dews which a dozen institutes could distil upon it; and even then I fear it would not be enriched to the point of vegetation. Aug. 21. A good meeting at New Bedford. About seventeen thousand copies of my oration have been pubhshed, and another edition of three thousand is to be issued this week. Aug. 28. Mr. Samuel J. May is probably to become principal of the school at Lexington. There will be at first an outcry on account of his abolition principles; but I believe he will be consci- entious enough not to become a proselyter instead of a teacher. Sept. 4. On Monday last, I went to Springfield to see if arrange- ments could be made for establishing a Normal school at that place. . . . The Abstract is now out, and will, I trust, shed a flood of light over the State on the greatest and darkest of all subjects. . . . Oct. 20. I went to Springfield, as proposed; where I found all my expectations thwarted in relation to establishing a Normal school at that place. Mr. Calhoun will try to do something for the droop- ing cause there. ... I have not accomplished much during the last three weeks. Found my strength utterly prostrate from previous efforts. Hope to renew it, and go on rejoicing again. Nov. 9. ... I rejoice to find that evidences are everywhere springing up of the progress of the great work. A momentum has been given which will not soon be expended. Still I never felt so much hke applying additional power, rather than relying upon the speed already attained. Nov. 13. . . . To-morrow I go to Falmouth to attend a meeting of teachers. Thus may perpetual droppings wear away the stone of ignorance. One drop I expect to shed on this occasion, in the form of a lecture. Dec. 11. Yesterday, attended a convention of school-teachers, and lectured before them. It is pleasant to see these proofs of in- terest on the part of teachers. They have a great deal yet to do; but these indications are not only performance, but promise for the futi re. 166 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Boston, Dec. 13, 1842. Rev. S. J. May. My dear Sir, — ... I shall be desirous to be present at your examination, but fear I shall not be able to. My Annual Report * is mainly at the bottom of my inkstand yet: and I fear that my two great organs will experience just the reverse of what they should under all my torments; that is, that I shall have a hardening of the heart, and a softening of the brain. . . . Well, what is to become of us this winter ? Are we to fall into the hands of the Philistines ? If so, we must make friends of the mammon of party. I see a Democrat is to come from Lexington. Do you know him ? Can you magnetize him ? If so, infuse a ful- ness of the right spirit, though you faint in the operation. You know Mr. F-----, of Nantucket. He worked well for us last winter. Cannot you secure him for the present? Mr. R-----, of West Cambridge, also, was in favor of us last year. See him, if you can. If not, see his friends. Become all things to all men. Go, preach ; and wherever you preach, speaking with a flaming tongue, miracu- lously convert. Let us carry the cause through one year more, and I think the young giant will be able to take care of himself. Yours ever, HORACE MANN. Dec. 25. During the last week, an event highly favorable to the schools has taken place. Being filled with a desire (which might, perhaps, better be called a determination) to have the work of Messrs. Potter & Emerson, the " School and the Schoolmaster," distributed among the schools in the State of Massachusetts, as it has been among those of New York, by the liberality of Mr. Wads- worth, I ventured to make application to Mr. Brimmer, the Mayor elect of the city, to see if he would not take upon himself the ex- pense of this benefaction. With a readiness and a propriety highly creditable to him, he signified not only his assent to the proposition, but his pleasure in embracing it; and he has authorized me to incur an expense not exceeding fifteen hundred dollars to carry out the plan. This will put an excellent work on the subject of education * To be presented the 1st of January. — Ed LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 167 in the hands of every teacher in the State,—a glorious thing! How many minds will be opened to a perception of the momentous work! how many will be stimulated ! how many withdrawn from the transitory pleasures of frivolity and dissipation ! What a har- vest of blessings will be reaped from the sowing of this seed ! When I see what good may be done with money, I sometimes wish that I had some at my command. Jan. 1,1843. A new year ! The past year is now beyond mor- tal or immortal control. To me, to the cause I have most at heart, it has been a most auspicious year. Event after event has occurred to give that cause an impulse; and I do not recollect any thing of an untoward character which is worthy to be mentioned. The grant for the libraries and for Normal schools, the increase of the town appropriations, the increasing interest felt in the subject by the people, and the well-timed donation of Mr. Brimmer of a work on education for all the schools in the State, attest the prosperity of the cause for the last year. But another year now opens. The great subject of inquiry now is, What fortunes await the cause before it shall close ? This inquiry I cannot answer, any further than to say, that what depends on human exertion shall not be wanting to its prosperity. I may die in the cause ; but, while I live, I will uphold it to the utmost of my strength. Jan. 22. . . . This week, Governor----- has come into power, and commenced his course by a most insidious and Jesuitical speech. He speaks of education ; but not one word is said of the Board of Education or of the Normal School. There is no recognition of the existence of improvements effected by them. Six years of as severe labor as any mortal ever performed — labor, too, which has cer- tainly been rewarded by great success — cannot procure a word of good will. This denial of justice, this suppressio veri, is of no consequence, only as it may prevent our doing as much as we other- wise might. But, if allowed to go on, a noble revenge shall be wrought, — that of malting it apparent to the most prejudiced and unjust that much has been done. The following letters are given to show the principle 168 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. upon which Mr. Mann conducted his educational labors. He thought it right and essential to keep them from all party influences; knowing that politics, in our country, vitiated every subject they touched. May we not hope now that that day is passing away ? Mr. May thinks it not judicious to publish the letters, as the public mind has undergone such a change upon this subject, that he fears it will injure Mr. Mann's reputation with some good men ; but I am induced to do it, contrary to his advice, which I still respect for its motive, because Mr. Mann has been accused of timidity, and want of hon- orable openness and independence in his caution. His own rendering of the subject will show the fallacy of this ; and his subsequent public course upon the subject of slavery shows plainly enough that he feared no man, and that he never renounced his principles for the sake of popularity. Nor did any one ever love the man, whom all his friends involuntarily call "dear Mr. May," better than he ; and none the less, but all the more, because Mr. May is, by his nature and culture alike, so profound a hater of slavery. What a comment it is upon the torpid state of the national conscience at that time, that no public interest was safe that was associated with the desire to do away chattel slavery ! Boston, Jan. 27, 1843. Rev. S. J. May. My dear Sir, — I have been debating with myself for almost a fortnight whether I ought, or whether I ought not, to write you on a certain subject. At last, musing here, just before twelve o'clock, and warming my toes for bed, I have resolved to do so. Could you see my feelings just as they are, I should need no other apology. I can only assure you that it is from kindness alone that I do it. I was at W—— a fortnight ago to-morrow evening, where I met a number of gentlemen at Dr. H----'s. The doctor and his LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 169 family spoke very kindly of you, and expressed, with every appear- ance of sincerity, a great personal regard. But the doctor observed that you had lost a very fine girl from one of their most respectable families, in consequence of your having visited W-----a few even- ings before, with a portion of your pupils, on the occasion of an anti- slavery meeting. Very little else was said ; but the obvious feeling was, that it was a pity that theoretical antislavery should prove to be practical anti-education, by depriving your school of a valuable pupil, and yourself, to some extent, of the respect of an influential citizen. I write this in no unkindness, and in no spirit of fault-finding, but merely to apprise you of the consequences of your visit there on that occasion. I confess myself one of those who hold the maxim to be a damnable one, that " our actions are our own: the conse- quences belong to God." We cannot separate the action from the consequence ; and therefore the latter is as much our own as the former. Consequences aid us in determining the moral character of an action, as much as. they do the physical properties of a body; and, as it seems to me, I may as well adopt a theory that fire will not ignite gunpowder, and then flourish a torch round a magazine, and say, " Consequences belong to God," as to say it in reference to any thing else. But I will not go on moralizing further. I have eased my con- science ; and I trust you will take this letter as it is intended, — perfectly in good part. . . . Yours ever and truly, HORACE MANN. Boston, Feb. 6, 1843. Rev. S. J. May, —I had strong hopes of being able to see you to-day; but the printers of my Report, after having worn my patience all out by delay, are now sending it to me so fast, that I cannot leave. If any one inquhes why I am not there, please tell them the reason. I have been anxious to reply to your last letter ever since I re- ceived it, but so much engaged that it has been impossible. Some things I think you have misunderstood, and others misrecollected. 170 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. For instance : I did not say that the young lady at W----- de- clined to go to Lexington because of the visit of yourself and pupils to the antislavery meeting. Yet you reply, that, if she were prevented from going for the reason assigned, " she must be inferior in mind and heart to many" whom you have. It was not the- young lady: it was her father who refused to let her go, be- cause he thought your going to an abolition meeting in term-time, and carrying the scholars, was aside from the purposes of the school, and of bad example. For aught I know, the young lady herself might have been an abolitionist, or good stuff from which to make one. Thus the school lost one pupil at least, and some friends. And this reminds me of what you say of your pupils, —that some of them were abolitionists when they came there, or were made so by Father Pierce. Father Pierce had no right to make them so, any more than he had to make them Unitarians, or Bank or anti-Bank in their politics. One was just as much a violation of his duty (if ho did the act) as the other would be. We want good teach- ers of our common schools, and that is what the State and the pa- trons of the Normal schools have respectively given their money to prepare; and any diversion of it to any other object is obviously a violation of the trust. Pardon me for saying one word in reference to yourself. You certainly said that you did not mean to withdraw from the aboli- tionists, and that, by receiving more salary, you should be able to contribute more money to that cause; but did you not also say that the school should have the whole of your energies? The extremest remark you ever made to me in regard to any active co- operation in abolition movements was, that if, in vacation, you hap- pened to be at a place where an abolition meeting was held, you should not consider yourself debarred from attending it. This surely seems to me different from carrying your own pupils to such a meeting in term-time, and indulging in remarks which disaffected several very excellent friends of the school, and prevented one pupil from attending it. I certainly say these things with no particle of unkindness to yourself. I think you will see, with me, which is the highest cause, or at least that the interests of the Normal School ought not to be LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 171 impaired, nor its friends alienated, by active, public co-operation, not only by yourself, but with your pupils, and in term-time. But I have time to write no more. I am sorry I cannot see you to-day. I hope I may soon. If in the city, do not fail to call_____ In a letter from Mr. Pierce, he says you are doing very well; but he does not think you make the pupils agonize quite so much as might be well for them. Yours truly, HORACE MANN. Boston, Feb. 22,1843. Rev. S. J. May. My dear Sir, — If, a few days ago, I overcame all doubt as to the propriety of addressing you on the subject of the actual loss which had occurred to your school in consequence of your zeal in another cause so alien from it, how can I forbear, at the present time, to point out consequences still more serious, which must re- sult from pursuing the same course? If I believed you to have any doubt of the personal friendship and sincerity of my motives, I should first endeavor to convince you of that fact. But I must as- sume this, without a preamble. Pardon me, then, for saying that it is with inexpressible regret that I learn from the public newspapers that yt>u are to be one of the lecturers for the abolition course about to be delivered in this city. Every friend of yours, and of the cause with which you hold so important a connection, is pained be- yond measure at this annunciation. Three of your friends,-----, -----,----, have spoken to me upon the subject with sincere grief. In the first place, it is the middle of a term; so that the imme- diate accusation will be, by the opponents of the cause which you volunteer to espouse, that you are neglecting the duties of the school. I do not mean to say that I would make such a charge, but that it is too obvious not to be made. In the second place, we have entertained great fears for the fate of the whole educational system during the present session; and these are not wholly dissipated. The Legislature is now in session, and we know there are many members of it who would rejoice in 172 LTFE OF HORACE MANN. any pretext for making an attack upon the Board and the Normal schools. I cannot expect that the event announced in the papers can take effect without open or secret and extensive animadver- sions being made upon it. I have had a talk with your represen- tative, and he is disposed to be reconciled ; but he expressly stated that his dissatisfaction with your appointment had arisen from his fears that you would more or less abandon the school to propagate your views on another subject, which fears he now hopes were groundless. Will you give occasion for the revival of those fears, and put an unanswerable argument in his mouth against all that I can say ? Being a Democrat, he could lead a great many of that party with him. But a third consideration is perhaps still more important. A public interest and sympathy are now excited through the Com- monwealth in behalf of the cause of education. With the excep- tion of Mr. Dwight's donation, more has been given by rich men during the last year for its general promotion, probably, than ever before. ... If I had not succeeded in producing a conviction, that, while I am engaged in administering the cause, it will be kept clear of all collateral subjects, of all which the world chooses to call fanati- cisms or hobbies, I should never have obtained the co-operation of thousands who are now its friends. I have further plans for ob- taining more aid; but the moment it is known or supposed that the cause is to be perverted to, or connected with, any of the exciting party questions of the day, I shall never get another cent. I shall be bereft of all power in regard to individuals, if not in re- gard to the State. And again: did you not tell me, again and again, that, if the public would let you alone in regard to your abolition views, you thought you could get along well enough with your friends ? But how can you expect that the public will let you alone, if they find you, every term, making abolition speeches or delivering abolition lectures, and exhibiting yourself as a champion of the cause in a way and on occasions which so many will deem offensive ? The public is not wont to be so tolerant. You must not mistake my motives; and, if you think I am speaking too plainly, you must pardon it for t.he zeal I have in the cause. . . H. M. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 173 Feb. 5. Last week, a libel was published against me in the "Mer- cantile Journal;" and thus something is continually occurring to take away almost all the comfort of my life, except that which arises from the prosperity of the great cause. Well, then, I must make that prosperity my comfort. Feb. 12. Were I to record all my thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, for the week, they would make a volume. If I do not re- cord them, I have httle to say. I go to Manchester, N.H., on Wednesday, to lecture. To hope to accomplish any thing in New Hampshire by one lecture is as vain as to expect to make the ocean boil by throwing in one coal of fire. Feb. 19. . . . Yesterday the whole question of the school-libraries was opened again in the House of Representatives, and was sus- tained by a crushing majority. So the cause has evidently ad- vanced almost incredibly within two or three years. It now needs discreet and energetic management: it will then be able to take care of itself. March 5. . . . Last night I read the last revise of my Report. So now, for good or for evil, it is done; and I trust it will eventual- ly do good, but shall not be surprised if it is not well received. CHAPTER V. ON the 1st of May, 1843, Mr. Mann was again married, and sailed for Europe to visit European schools, especially in Germany, where he expected to derive most benefit. He hoped thus to do more for- American schools than he could do, just at that juncture, by remaining at home. He thought the good cause was safely ground- ed in the estimation of the people; and now it only re- mained to improve methods of instruction, and to bring the subject of moral education more fully before the public. To this end, he had set in operation the most adequate means, — the Normal schools, — and placed them in the hands of men, who, as far as he could judge, saw the importance of that element in human culture. The opposition he had been forced to encounter, and the double labor this had cost him, had seriously affected his health ; and a change seemed absolutely necessary for his brain, which was in such a preternatural state of activity, that he could not sleep. As his friend Dr. Howe ex- pressed it, " it went of itself." The excursion did not prove so much of a recreation as his friends hoped it would. His time of absence was lim- ited to six months; and his attention was so much ab- sorbed in educational matters, that he had little strength or leisure to devote to mere amusement. It was his habit to spend the day, from seven till five o'clock, in visiting schools, prisons, and the men who were interested in these, and many of his evenings in reading documents which he 174 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 175 gathered in his progress. He needed the suggestions of others even to see other things that he passed by the way. He read, but could not speak, the modern languages; but, with the help of an imperfect interpreter by his side, prob- ably few men ever made such a visitation who gleaned more fruits. The "white-haired gentleman," as he was called, excited much interest in the schoolmasters, to whom he did not always give his name; for he wished to see the schools in undress, and therefore visited them un- officially, when that was possible, though always duly armed with credentials from the Ministers of Instruction. He was treated with much courtesy; though it is to be doubted whether the good men of the schools often underwent such a searching examination, not only into their pro- ceedings, but into the theories and motives that impelled them. Probably not a few of them had glimpses of some aims of education they had not thought of before,— not through any formal instructions from the " white-haired gentleman," but simply from the questions he asked. The main results of the tour were given to the public in his Seventh Annual Report to the Board of Education: In Germany alone he met with any true comprehension of what he regarded as moral and religious instruction. The effect of his Report of it at home was to shake some dry bones that had apparently become not only fossilized, but firmly embedded. I give a few extracts from his journal. Liverpool, May, 1843. On the 16th we visited Eaton Hall, one of the seats of the Mar- quis of Westminster. The income of this nobleman is said to be $5,000 per day. The avenues which lead to it from Chester are several miles in length, skirted with hedge and all varieties of forest trees. Herds of deer and cattle were grazing or ruminating in the grounds. Swans bedecked the quiet lakes. Trees to which each 176 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. season for centuries had added bulk and loftiness stood around. At last, the massive pile opened upon our view. As we approached it, we saw some ten or dozen old women, with coarse features and a coarser garb, carrying away upon their backs the limbs of a large tree which had been felled; and around other parts of the premises, and in the pleasure-grounds, other groups of the same sex were busily employed weeding the walks, gathering in the new-mown hay, &c. The gardens and pleasure-grounds cover fifty-two acres, — about the size of Boston Common. Here was apparently evory variety of flower and plant and fruit which could be found on the globe. Hot-houses were prepared for the productions of the South ; rocks, grottoes, and places adapted to the cultivation of the feeble and scanty growths of the North. Beds of pine-apples were ripening. Peach-trees were trained against the walls. Straw- berries, cherries, &c, hung in luscious clusters. Vats of capacious dimensions were set under glass for the cultivation of the Egyptian lotus, &c. Long sheds, with bins upon the side, were constructed for the growth of the mushroom and potato sprouts. Artificial grot- toes were scattered along winding passages; the whole sometimes assuming the form of the most regularly laid out garden, and again winding away into labyrinths. But a description is impossible. The house was constructed and furnished in a style of indescriba- ble elegance. . . . The marble floor of the entrance hall was said to have cost 75,000 dollars. It was adorned with splendid pictures, coats of mail, magnificent tables, &c. The hall of communication (a miniature imitation of the cloistered aisles of Chester Cathedral) is 740 feet in length, lined with pictures and groups of statuary. When we came to a splendid piano in the library, the attendant, who was a lady dressed in violet-colored satin, adorned with heavy black lace, told us the young ladies played very well; and in the garden we were afterwards shown '' the young ladies' garden.'' Ah! was there no spot in the souls of these tenderly reared daughters where a brighter flower than any ever formed of rain and sunshine could have been cultivated, — the flower of sympathy for others' hearts, by Nature formed of as fine a mould, and, in the sight of God, of as high a price, as their own ? Was there no time when all the richest music wrought in the burning souls of the highest genius LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 177 might have been bartered for the grateful voices of sorrow and pov- erty and crime which these daughters might have elicited ? Well might all these accomplishments, and all this splendor and beauty, have been bartered for these; for heaven would have been given them as a requital. I left in a state of mind which I cannot now express. I hope my feelings will find a form of utterance at some future time. The next day, we visited Chester Cathedral. Of the antiquity of this there can be no doubt. No art can prepare a counterpart. Time puts a certain wrinkle and sallowness on its objects, that no common colorer can imitate, or graver etch. This cathedral is sup- posed to be twelve or thirteen centuries old. Its dimensions are vast. Here we saw a bit of a tomb of seven centuries. We went into rooms which were once occupied by nuns. Many old associa- tions arose. These must always rise while the history of the secret deeds of monasteries and nunneries remains. This ancient cathedral and splendid castle, and the poor old women, made an impression upon Mr. Mann that farther travel in England only deepened. Passing from high to low, from palace, castle, cathedral, to prison, school, and cottage, the glory and the shame of England were ever in sad and striking contrast. In a letter to his sister, written May 15, he says, — I am here at a very interesting time, so far as the general ques- tion of education is concerned. A bill is now before Parliament for the establishment of a national system ; but it is framed with such express reference to the promotion and extension of the Established Church, that it meets opposition from all the Dissenters. It ori- ginally gave all the power of appointing teachers and supervising the schools to the members of the church, and then it prohibited any manufacturer from employing any child who had not received a certificate from a school which the church approved ; and there- fore made the bread, as well as the intellect and morals, of all, dependent upon their will. But, if I begin to write on so prolific a theme, where shall I stop? . . . 12 178 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. In what cud this bill differ from the persecutions of nonconformists, which drove the Puritans from England in days gone by ? May —. In passing from Liverpool to London on the railroad, we were struck with the exuberance of the vegetation. The fields were all so monotonously green, that at last I longed for a piece of Cape Cod for variety. . . . But we saw scarcely a large tree in the whole journey. ... I was quite struck with the comparative amount of grazing and mowing land, compared with the tillage. More land sown to wheat, or planted with esculent roots, would very much increase the sustenance of man. May 20. Visited Westminster Abbey. Here are deposited the truly great and the sham great. The truly great, however, are principally by themselves, in what is called the " Poets' Corner." The sham great are scattered about in the various chapels or niches. Here and there, however, a genuine man, such as Lord Mansfield, Wilberforce, Watt, was placed by the side of a king or queen, like gold pieces among copper pennies. . . . Here were deposited the remains of Ben Jonson, Milton, Dryden, Pope, Addison, &c. Among the kings and queens, there was a sprinkling of ladies of the bed-chamber, masters of the hounds, pimps, &c., who obtained this resting-place for their bones through favoritism. A statue of one of the kings had been covered with silver, with an entire head of the same metal. The head had been wrung off by some one at once acquisitive and unloyal, — probably done more from the acquisitive than the democratic instinct. A monument had been erected to one of Cromwell's generals, — Popham, — which was threatened with removal after the Restoration; but at the interces- sion of his wife, and a proposition to have the whole inscription erased, it was suffered to remain. It is now a blank. Cromwell himself was buried here ; but his remains were removed by his successor, and it is said they were hung at Tyburn. The finest statue was that of Lord Mansfield. The whole hardly impressed me so much as I expected. May 23. Visited Smithfield Market, where John Rogers was burned. Is it not strange that the oddity of that ambiguous state- LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 179 ment about the number of his children should almost universally have the effect of repressing all sympathy for the manyr, and all indignation against his tormentors ? Visited " Rag Fair," or the old-clothes market, which is a large open area, nearly square, all trodden to a mire, with coarse wooden booths on the side, prepared in the rudest manner, and so finished that there has been no waste of skill upon the material. When filled with old clothes, and wretched traffickers in them, what a scene it must present! Afterwards, taking a police-officer, I passed through covered markets for the same object, where sacks and bundles of old clothes were being opened and displayed, or had aheady been shaken out, and spread upon rough-board stalls, or counters. They were, probably, the joint product of the previous night's purchases and thefts. A more deplorable sight than the fetid, squalid wretches exhibited can hardly be imagined. Went also through the Jews' quarter, where, from narrow, pent- up lanes, holes and caverns opening on either side, poured forth the foulest stench. The eye also was repelled that would penetrate to their loathsome recesses. What a place to lie in immediate proximity with so much luxury, voluptuousness, and superfluous wealth ! From these dens of vice, debasement, and iniquity, we at length emerged, and passed through some respectable streets. One was that in which John Milton was born, — then named Grub Street. Onward we went through Billingsgate Fish Market, the sight of which added intensity to the meaning of the word, which had its origin in the foul language of that locality. In looking around, one could well imagine that he saw the genius of the place. Went into the " long room " of the Custom House; and a long room it surely is. And why should not the room be long in which account is taken of the products of all the climes in the world, as they are borne to this spot by every wind that blows ? Visited Greenwich Hospital. Here reside seventeen or eighteen hundred sailors, mutilated, broken down, or decayed in the service of the nation, —the results of war. Who would not be a peace man after beholding such a spectacle ? Hardly a battle has been fought by England within fifty years but here is one of its victims. Should each one of them tell his history, what a volume it would 180 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. make ! Yet how few are these representatives, compared with the constituency of the dead which they represent, — each one, perhaps, representing a thousand! In the great painted hall of the hospital are numerous and splendid paintings, commemorative of Britain's naval glory, as it is called. Here the remembrance of all her triumphs is perpetuated. Every child who visits this place is taught to feel loyalty for the sovereign, a pride in his country, and an ambition to distinguish himself in her service. In one glass case was the very coat in which Nelson was shot at the battle of the Nile; in another, the model of some celebrated ship, fraught with historical associations ; and so of all its garniture. Wherever I go, this not only suggests itself to my mind, but forces itself upon my senses. At Westminster Abbey, at St. Paul's, at all the*public buildings, there are monuments to honor the heroes of the nation, whether on land or sea, and to embalm their memories. How deep and energetic must be the effect of all this upon the national char- acter ! What the Roman Catholics do, by means of shrines and pictures and images, to secure the blind devotion of their disciples, the leading minds of Great Britain do to secure the feeling of national pride. The park belonging to the hospital is an object of great beauty. The grounds rise to a considerable height, and overlook the country for some distance. Here is the celebrated Observatory by which time is regulated all round the globe. On the top of the dome, and resting upon it, is a large ball, through which the spire of the observatory passes up. At a minute before twelve o'clock every day, this ball is made to rise half-way up the spire. An instant before twelve, it rises to the top, and then suddenly falls. It is n6w twelve o'clock at Greenwich, and a corresponding hour, wher- ever a British ship floats, all over the world. From this we descended, strange emotions filling my breast, and took our seats in the railway, built for about four miles on arches sustaining it above the tops of the houses, so that it could not have been necessary, for its construction, to remove any more dwellings than enough to make room for the abutments. On Monday, I spent the evening with Carlyle. What pleased me most in Mr. Cailyle was the genuine, boyish, unrestrained LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 181 heartiness of his laugh. Made the acquaintance of Mr. Kay Shut- tleworth, and of Edwin Chadwick, Esq., author of an " Inquiry into the Sanitary Condition of the Laboring Classes of Great Britain." With these men I am highly delighted. May 25. Made the acquaintance of Leonard Horner, Esq.; a very sensible man, the chairman of the Factory Commission. Had much conversation with him on the subject of education in Eng- land and America. He said, that, as factory commissioner, he had many times seen certificates of school-teachers given to children, to certify then- attendance upon the master's school, signed by a cross, because the teachers were unable to write their own names. He also said he once saw some reason to doubt whether one of this class of teach- ers could read. He sent for him, and asked the question, whether he could read. " Summat," said he: "at any rate, I keeps ahead of the children." Visited a Normal school, where we heard one of the teachers take passage after passage from the Liturgy, call upon his pupils for an exposition of its meaning, and then for passages from Scripture to prove it. Among these was cited, without a word of comment, that interpolated passage, that " there are three that bear record in heaven," &c. What a powerful machinery for sustaining the Church, whether its doctrines are right or wrong, and without any reference to their being right or wrong! The conductors or sustainers of the school do not approve this plan of upholding the doctrines of the Church by religious doctrinal instruction in the school, and would gladly modify its course to a very great extent: but they declare that they must have this education, or none at all; that, if they were to omit the doctrinal part of instruction, the whole influence of the Establishment would be directed against them, and would crush them immediately. They therefore submit to it as to an inevitable evil. I afterwards went to the National Training College, Stanley Grove. This is a Normal school established by the National Soci- ety. The land, buildings, and fixtures have cost $103,000 ; and sixty pupils are the extent proposed to be educated here. How enormous an outlay for the object to be accomplished ! ... In this 182 LIFE OF HORACE MANN. Normal school, not only the doctrines but the discipline of the Church are regularly taught; and Mr. Coleridge, the principal, says his hope is to raise up a class of teachers auxiliary to the Church, — a sort of half-clergymen, — and station them all over the land. Here, again, is power perpetuating itself. May 29. Breakfasted with Mr. Whately, the Archbishop of Dublin, whom I found to be a very agreeable man, full of youthful vivacity and spirits, kindly in his feelings, and republican in his principles. He said a great many playful things, such as generally interest school-boys rather than theologians, — as, how can it be proved that there are many persons in the world having the same number of hairs on their heads; the old fable of the hare and the tortoise, &c. : and showed me the manner of constructing and throwing the boomerang, — a New-Holland weapon ; also their method of forming a sling. When I led him to speak on education, he evinced the most liberal spirit; eulogized the benefits of mere secular education; and said that the great and the only principle was to include as much of religious instruction as practicable, and to omit all the rest. There is no doubt of his being a great man ; and I believe he is also a good one. Visited a school in Sharp Alley, which is conducted on princi- ples of toleration. It is called the " City of London Royal British School for Boys;" and one of its regulations is, " that the school be open to persons of every religious persuasion," and " that no book, commentary, or interpretation, tending to inculcate the pecu- liar tenets of any religious denomination, shall be admitted on any pretence whatever." The school is patronized almost equally by Churchmen and Dissenters, and both Roman Catholics and Jews attend it. The teacher told me that he was a Churchman, but that, as he was placed there to educate all the children without partiality or proselytism, he did not attempt the inculcation of his own pecu- liar opinions. I was much pleased with the general method of instruction adopted in the school. Res non verba was the practical motto. Cards and prints were freely used, and every thing not understood was explained. LIFE OF HORACE MANN. 183 May 30. Visited St. Paul's, where there was a musical re- hearsal of all the children belonging to the Sunday schools of Lon- don. It is said that on the anniversary celebration there are ten or twelve thousand collected together, and probably nearly as many adults attend as spectators. Galleries were fitted up under the dome of this immense edifice; and here the children were seated in the centre, while seats rising at each end in the form of an amphi- theatre afforded accommodation for the vast audience. The view from the Whispering Gallery, to which we ascended, was most im- pressive. What a mass of human life, of human hopes and fears, of happiness and misery, was collected within that circle ! Had there been a sudden revelation of all the future history of that company, who could have borne it ? But these musings are useless, only as they stimulate one to greater exertions for the welfare of the young; and God knows I need no such stimulus. Nothing can ever alienate me from my sworn love of the young, nor divert my wishes and exertions from what I believe will best promote their welfare. We then went to the Tower, where we saw how little and bad men could tyrannise over the great and good. We saw the style of the armor — and much of it was original — of more than twenty British kings; the frightful implements of war in use before the in- vention of gunpowder; the dungeon in which Sir Walter Raleigh was confined, and the stone room in which he slept for eight years. We saw the tower where the two children were murdered by the command of Ptichard, &c. We also saw the Regalia, or treas- ures of the crown, all of which a man might carry easily in his arms, and which are valued at three millions of pounds sterling : the crown alone, of the shape of a boy's cap without any visor, cost a million of pounds sterling. Three millions of pounds in the Regalia, and more than three millions of destitute, almost starving, subjects ! Visited the rooms, pictures, &c, of the Duke of Sutherland, at Stafford House, near Buckingham Palace. These are splendid beyond any thing I ever saw. . . . Were there