rence which has been recorded, the voyage down the river Niger, by Mungo Park; a name standing at the very head of those most renowned for romantic and lofty enterprise. The melancholy fate, it is true, by which he was soon arrested in his noble career, adds greatly to the interest of his situation, when pushing from the shore his little boat Joliba, and causes us to read his last affecting letter to his wife with emotions of sympathy, more intense, if possible, than would be felt, if the tragical issue were not already known. In many points of character there was a strong resemblance between these two distinguished travellers, and they both perished martyrs in the same cause, attempting to explore the hidden regions of Africa.

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CHAPTER II.

His singular letters to President Wheelock.-Commences the study of Theology. His embarrassments on this occasion.-Visits several clergymen on Long Island, and pursues his studies there for a short time. -Proposes teaching a school.-Returns to Connecticut, and meets with disappointment in his hopes of being settled as a clergyman.—Abandons his purpose of studying divinity.-Sails from New London on a voyage to Gibraltar.-Enlists there as a soldier into the regular service.Released by the solicitation of the captain of the vessel in which he sailed. Returns home by way of the Barbary Coast and the West Indies. Resolves to visit England, and seek for his wealthy family connexions in that country.-Sails from New York to Plymouth.Travels thence to London in extreme poverty.-Realizes none of his expectations.-Enlists in the naval service.-Gains an acquaintance with Captain Cook, and embarks with him on his last voyage round the world, in the capacity of corporal of marines.

As Ledyard left Hanover when Dr. Wheelock was absent, this was probably seized upon by him as a fit opportunity for taking his departure. A few days after his arrival in Hartford, his uncle thought proper to show him some of Dr. Wheelock's letters, in which were very just complaints of his conduct, his disregard of discipline, and particularly his thoughtless waste of the small means he possessed, which his friends flattered themselves might, with good economy, be made to pay the expenses of his education. These letters of the presi

dent were apparently written, not so much by way of accusation as to vindicate himself from any charge of neglect that might be made against him, on account of the ill success of his efforts to manage a young man, whom he had no other motive for taking under his particular care, than good will for the grandson of his deceased friend, and regard for his family. Ledyard was much incensed at these letters, and replied to them under the impulse of feelings not the most kindly or respectful. From his nature he was extremely impatient of reproach, and ever deemed it an unpardonable offence in any one to question his motives, or insinuate that he could act deliberately and intentionally wrong. His foibles he could bear to have touched with a gentle hand, but no one ventured a suspicion of his integrity, or of the kindness of his heart, with impunity. He often lamented the failure of purposes caused by his fondness for change, and love of adventure; but at no time did he allow himself to think, that he was not pursuing great and worthy objects, and such as would redound to his honour, and the good of mankind. With this disposition, and this confidence in himself, it was natural that he should sometimes regard the opinions which others entertained of his

conduct, with stronger feelings of disapprobation than the merits of the case required. In reading the following extracts from a letter to Dr. Wheelock, these particulars should be kept in mind; and it should moreover be remembered, that, whether right or wrong, he really fancied himself not well treated at Dartmouth. " I

"When I sit down to write," says he, know not where to begin, or where to end, or what to say, especially since I have the contents of two of your letters concerning my affairs. What do I see? Who is this that assumes the port of compassion, kindness, benevolence, charity, and writes as he writes? You begin, Sir, with a surprise that my legacy was so much exhausted. Justly might you, Sir, but not more so than my unfortunate self; and if truth has not turned liar, if any protestations, any declarations of honesty, uprightness, or any thing else can avail, I now, under the most sacred obligations, bonâ fide, declare, I was not aware of it; and when I saw the letters and account, I was so much ashamed of my inadvertency, and so justly culpable before you, that I could not compose myself to come before you, and answer for my misconduct. But from that moment, with much anxiety and care, I studied to remedy the matter. This, I

declare, was the honest purpose of my heart; and to make you reparation still is; and, under Heaven, you shall say you are satisfied. Then, Sir, you say, a little after, that you could have no confidence in me, after the character given of me by Mr. Seymour. I am sorry, Sir, you could not.

"I take what you have said, in regard to my pride, very ill-natured, very unkind in you. So far as I know myself, I came to your college under influences of the good kind, whether you, Sir, believe it or not. The acquaintance I have gained there is dearer than I can possibly express. Farewell, dear Dartmouth. Doctor, my heart is as pure as the new fallen snow. Farewell, and may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, bless you and yours. I am, honoured and reverend Sir, though sorely beset, your obliged and dutiful young servant."

Here end all the particulars which have come to my knowledge respecting Ledyard's college life. He next appears before us in the character of a student in divinity. Within a month after mooring his canoe at the river's bank in Hartford, he is found at Preston, in Connecticut, advising with the Reverend Mr. Hart, á clergyman of that town, on the subject of his theological studies and prospects, and also with