engage at once in studies too various and complicated. The fundamental principle, on which lord Chatham raises the super structure of education is this, that learning is the weapon and instrument only of manly, honourable, and virtuous action, upon the stage of the world; both in private and public life, as a gentleman and as a member of the commonwealth, who is to answer for all he does to the laws of his country, to his own breast and conscience, and at the tribunal of honour and good fame." The works recommended by the great statesman to the study of his friend and pupil chiefly fall under the following classes-Latin authors, of whom the best and purest only are mentioned; works of English taste and poetry, among which we do not however find the great name of Milton; a few French authors; historical and political writings, chiefly relating to English affairs; a few works of science, such as Euclid, the writings of Locke, &c.; and in oratory, the works of Tully and Demosthenes. The use of the latter name, may perhaps be considered only as a figure of speech, since, without derogating from his merit, it does not appear, that the youth, whose studies are here the subject of direction, was qualified for perusing him in his original language. The excellencies of Demosthenes are however of that nature which a good translation is most capable of conveying; strength of sentiment, and unrivalled force of awful representation, and piercing expostulation.

We cannot avoid observing, that it is to the praise of literature that such a man as lord Chatham appears to have formed his mind upon Greek and Roman models.

The style of his letters is often eloquent, always animated, and evidently unartificial. We doubt not that they were written with the same rapidity with which his parliamentary speeches were

delivered.

Bath, Jun. 14, 1754. "My dear nephew, "You will hardly have read over one very

long letter from me before you are troubled with a second. I intended to have writ soon, but I do it the sooner on account of your letter to your aunt, which she transmitted to me here. If any thing, my dear boy, could have happened to raise you higher in my esteem, and to endear you more to me, it is the amiable abhorrence you feel for the scene of vice and folly, (and of real misery and perdition, under the false notion of pleasure and spirit), which has opened to you at your college, and at the same time, the manly, brave, generous, and wise resolu tion and true spirit, with which you resisted heart, I thank God, infinitely too firm and noand repulsed the first attempts upon a mind and ble as well as too elegant and enlightened, to be in any danger of yielding to such contempti ble and wretched corruptions. You charm me with the description of Mr. Wheler, and while you say you could adore him, I could adore you for the natural, genuine love of virtue, which speaks in all you feel, say, or do. As to your companions let this be your rule-Cultivate the acquaintance with Mr. Wheler which you have so fortunately begun: and in general, be sure to associate with me much older than yourself: scholars whenever you can: but always with men of decent and honourable lives. As their age and learning, superior both to your own, must necessarly in good sense, and in the view of acquiring knowledge from them, entitle them to all lights to theirs, you will particularly practice deference, and submission of your own that first and greatest rule for pleasing in con versation, as well as for drawing instruction and improvement from the company of one's superiors in age and knowledge, namely, to be a patient, attentive, and well-bred heart. and to answer with modesty to deliver your own opinions sparingly and with proper dif fidence; and if you are forced to desire fa ther information or explanation upon a point, you give or if obliged to differ, to do it with to do it with proper apologies for the trout all possible candour, and an unprejudiced desire to find and ascertain truth, with an en tire indifference to the side on which that truth is to be found. There is likewise a particular attention required to contradict with good manners: such as, begging pardon.beg Pythagoras enjoined his scholars an absolute ging leave to doubt, and such like phrase.. silence for a long noviciate I am far from approving sach a taciturnity: but I highly recommend the end and intent of Pythagoras's injunction: which is to dedicate the first parts of life more to hear and learn, in order to col lect materials, out of which to form opinions founded on proper lights, and well-examined sound principles, than to be presuming, prompt, and flippant, in hazarding one's own slight crude notions of things; and thereby exposing the nakedness and emptiness of the mind, like a house opened to company be

"The Rev. John Wheler, prebendary of Westminster. The friendship formed between this gentleman and lord Camelford at so early a period of their lives, was founded in mutual esteem, and continued uninterrupted till lord Camelford's death."

1. XV. Memoirs of the Life of Gilbert Wakefield, B. A. formerly of Jesus College, Cambridge. 2d edition, 2 vols. 8vo.

of the author, are well worthy of in- with preferments, when the conditions of ac sertion.

"Of all those biographical relations, which have contributed so much to inform and delight mankind, those, if I mistake not, have been received with peculiar cagerness and approbation, where the writer and the subject have been the same. Who has not, for instance, felt himself interested, to a degree of uncommon avidity, in perusing the lives of Lord Herbert, William Lilly, Whis

ton, Clarendon, and Cibber?

"Nor is elevated rank, superior genius, or a dignified station, necessary to this exquisite gratification of the reader. The essential requisites of such a work are, events not wholly unimportant, nor unconnected with the political or literary transactions of the times, related in a style perspicuous, nor vet void of ornament, with the confidence of integrity, and the simplicity of truth.

"For my own part, I can sincerely affirm, that no motives of vanity, engendered by an overweening persuasion of great accomplishments or distinguished virtues, have impelled me to present my own memoirs to the public, unconnected with a sense of duty.

"Nor let the reader startle at the apparent singularity of this declaration. I am firmly persuaded, that a life like mine, of which so large a portion has been employed in a vigorous pursuit of religious truth, and an undaunted profession of her dictates, in opposition to the sensibilities of domestic influence, the restraints of friendship, and the solicitations of worldly interest, in conjunction with such application to useful literature, as precarious health, embarrassed circumstances, perpetual change of residence, and numerous avocations, would allow I am, I say, firmly persuaded, that such a life, faithfully delineated, can hardly fail of a beneficial influence on the manners of the rising generation.

"Grateful as I am to the GRACIOUS BE

ING, without whom I and my faculties are nothing" who worketh in me both to will, and to do of his good pleasure," I feel no disposition to affront his bounty by assuming the language of hypocritical humility. Ve nerating TRUTH above all earthly things, I can think and speak of myself, as well as of other men, without malice and without extenuation. I will never incur a real imputation of dissimulation and ingratitude, by adopting a silly affectation to avoid the mere appearance of conceit.

Oft times nothing profits more Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right, Well managed.'

"In such a narrative, the ingenuous youth may find some encouragement to persever ance in that honourable path, to which Conscience shall direct his steps, amidst the seductions of example, and the general licentiousness of the age: and may learn, from one specimen at least, the infinite satisfaction of unpensioned philosophy, in competition

ceptance are inconsistent with freedom of enquiry, a love of truth, and the injunctions of Christianity."

Gilbert Wakefield was born in Not

tingham, February 22, 1756. His father was rector of the church of St. Nicholas in that town, and appears to have been a man of a highly respectable character. His maternal family had for many generations been settled in Nottingham.

As is perhaps usually the case with those who acquire a high degree of intellectual attainment, the indications of superior talents were early discoverable in Gilbert Wakefield. "I was inspired," says he, " from the first, with a most ardent desire of knowledge, such, I be lieve, as hath never been surpassed in any breast, nor for a moment impaired in mine."

About the age of seven, he was initi ated in the Latin language in the freeschool of Nottingham, under the rev. Samuel Berdmore, at that time usher of the school, and afterwards master of the charter-house school in London. Any obligations to the instructions of that gentleman, whose abilities he describes as above mediocrity, he does not how. ever acknowledge. Some interesting anecdotes of Johnson, the celebrated school-master of Nottingham, and 27 tagonist of Bentley, are here related At the age of nine our author was removed to the care of the rev. Isaac Pickthall, at Wilford, on whose strict, but conscientious discipline, he severely a

madverts.

In 1766, his father was promoted to the vicarage of Kingston, with the cha pelry of Richmond, to the latter which places he removed. The son wa here placed under the tuition of his fa ther's curate, whose incompetency 35 1 preceptor is described as surpassing the of all his predecessors, so that the ac quisitions of the pupil, as he informs an in all these years, from his numerous pre ceptors, were literally nothing, though in the mean time his own applicatica was unremitted.

46

At this last school he continued till September 1769, and here gained his first acquaintance with the Greek language. He was removed at the age of thirte years, to a more genial climate, being transferred to the tuition of the rev. Rchard Wooddeson" of Kingston. Un der this gentleman, who was distingu ed by skill and industry in the exercise

his profession, several literary chaters received their education, particuly Mr. Lovibond, the poet, Mr. Stees, the editor of Shakspeare, Keate, thor of the Sketches of Nature, Gibthe historian, Mr. Hayley, and baMaseres.

After having presided with reputation r the school at Kingston nearly forty rs, Mr. Wooddeson, oppressed with and infirmities, relinquished his sta1. about 1772, and in the month of ril in that year, our author, being sixteen years of age, was transferred he university of Cambridge. He was to Jesus college (where his father received his education) at that time the mastership of Dr. Lynford 1. The college tutors were Messrs. er and Darby, both respectable for abilities, but, in the opinion of their , deficient in the activity and zeal h are absolutely requisite for that

ring the two first years of his resiat college, he continued to apply

petitor for each of these honours, but unsuccessfully.

During the long vacation of 1775, spending a few weeks at his father's house in Richmond, he was induced, by meeting with Lyons's Hebrew Grammar, to apply himself to the acquisition of that language. It is a proof of the activity of his mental powers, that, in the course of ten days, he had read, by the help only of Buxtorf's Lexicon, nine or ten of the first chapters in Genesis, "without much difficulty, and with infinite delight."

." From that hour I kept up a constant cultivation of the Hebrew; without some knowledge of which tongue, no man, I venture to affirm, can have an adequate perception of the phraseology of the New Teas,

age to unlearn, the learning of their youth."

"They are not fond, in the first place, of acknowledging themselves mistaken; and in the next, they cannot prevail upon themselves to reject as useless, what has cost them so much pains in the acquisition.

pèr acerbum,

If to the mathematical and philoso-Jamque dies, ni fallor, adest, quem, semI studies of the place, with a stated ixture of classical reading, not er abandoning the pleasures of sotercourse, for which he always rehis relish, nor neglecting the pracE regular exercise, which he regard h almost a religious observance. the third year of his residence, he offered himself as a candidate for mical honours. Three annual meeach of the value of five guineas, left by Dr. Browne, for the best ode in imitation of Sappho, the Latin ode in imitation of Horace, e best pair of epigrams, one on the of the Greek Anthologia, and the on that of Martial. The candifor these prizes must be undergra. Mr. Wakefield became a com

Sempèr honoratum, sic Di voluistis! habebo."

"Or in plain English prose, it was January 16, 1776,-"the great, the important day," in which the fruit of all my application was to be fame or disappointment. Seventyfive of us took our degrees that year; very few compared to former times; for Eachard observed, more than a century ago, that "two hundred, for the most part, yearly commence. "The best of these seventy-five were but moderate proficients; and those of us in the highest posts of honour, greatly inferior to our immediate predecessors, and to those who succeeded us."

"For my own part, though I set inestimable value on the general conceptions, which I had then acquired, I felt within me no proper relish for these sublimities of knowledge, nor one spark of real inventive