AT LOS ANGELES
J
(J^f^r^Tz^ lJlA4ux
MEMOIRS
AND
imi(01^ MMMi
or
AN ONLY SON,
WHO DIED NOVEMBER 27, 1821
IN HIS 19th year,
WHILE A STUDENT IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW.
BY THOMAS DURANT,
FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION.
ANDOVER :
PUBLISHED BY MARK NEWMAN.
1823.
> J > J ,
UISTUICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT :
L. S. District Clerk''s Office.
Be it remembered, (hat on the fifth day of June A. D. 1823,
in the forty seventh year of the Independence of the United States
of America, Mark Newman, of the said district, has deposited in
this ollice tlie title of a book the right wliereof he claims as propri-
etor in the words foliowini?, to wit — " Memoirs and select remains
of an only son, who died November 27, 1821, in his 19th year
while a student in the University of Glasgow ; by Thomas Durant,
Poole, Dorset Eng." — In conformity to the Act of the Congress of
the United States, entitled, " An Act for the encouragement of
Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts and Cooks, to
the authors and proprietors of such coj)ies, during the times therein
mentioned :" and also to an Act entitled, " An Act supplementary to
an Act, entitled, An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by se-
curing tlie cof)ies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the authors and
proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned ; and
extending the benefits thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving
and Etching Historical, and other prints."
JOHN W.DAVIS,
C7erfc of the District of Massachusetts.
a
CONTENTS.
f-
^. PAGE
His Birth and Childhood 9
i.J^is religious Education 19
2His Intellectual Education 31
_,His Commencement and Progress in Latin, French,
'^ Greek, and Italian 54
j^His Commencement in writing Themes, at the
^ age of Eleven 60
THEMES :
•^ On (he advantages of the Study of History ... 62
w On the disadvantages of Solitude 63
Ql On Decision 65
r On Polytheism 66
(_ On what Religion is most calculated to promote
ji the happiness of individuals ? 69
On Superstition 71
On the Connexion of Ideas 79
IV CONTENTS.
PAGE
His first Poetical efforts, at the age of Fourteen 84
Translation of Crebiiloa 85
On the Setting Sua 86
Imitation of Horace 87
Illness and Death of his Mother 93
His first Session at Glasgow 106
A Poem, "The Land of the Blessed." .... 120
Professor Walker's Testimony to his character
and success at College 122
His return in 1819, and his labours during the va-
cation 126
Prize Essay on the Tribunicial Power among the
Romans 130
His Return to College in 1819 151
Letters written during the Session 152
Extract from his Logic Theme 162
The Dream ; or Human Misery ; a fragment . . 174
Professor Jurdine's Testimonial 192
His Return Home in May, 1820, and his employ-
ment during the vacation 194
Melville and his Pupil 197
Fragments 201
O
Midnight . 202
Friends of Infancy and Youth meeting after long
separation 202
His return to College in 1820 204
Letters written during the Session 206
COJfTENTS,
ESSAYS :
Pack
Essays written in the Moral Philosophy Class . . 221
On Virtue 221
On the Immateriality of the Human Soul . . 228
On the Immortality of the Soul 237
On Providence, a Poem 243
Professor Myine's Testimonial 252
His return Home, in May, 1821, and his occu-
pations during the vacations 257
His departure for Scotland, October, 1821 . . . 259
Dr Meikleham's Testimonial 260
A General Review of his character 262
His Aunt's Illness and Death 289
His Illness and Death 308
Address of Condolence from the Students of the
Natural Philosophy Class 316
ADVERTISEiMENT
TO THE
AMERICAN EDITION.
The American Editor of this interesting biogra-
phy has thought proper to omit a part of the Essays
and Poems contained in the London Edition ; not
because he differs in judgment from the biographer
as to the merit of those juvenile productions ; but
because he wishes so to reduce the size and the
price of the book, that the circulation may be as ex-
tensive as possible ; and because he thinks it will
answer the great end of this edition to retain a suffi-
cient number of those productions to make a just im-
pression of the genius and early cultivation of the
extraordinary youth who wrote them. With the
same views, the Editor has omitted a few notes and
other passages of minor consequence. He has also
given titles to all the sections corresponding with
the Table of contents. But in the biography itself
he has made no alterations.
X PREFACE.
parental partialities, and who were, in every other re-
spect, more competent judges than himself, had formed
as high an estimate of those talents as he entertained ;
and some of whom had expressed a wish that a work
of this kind should be undertaken.
The writer may be suspected of partiality, especial-
ly in describing the moral and religious character of his
son. It will, however, be admitted, that no other had
such means of knowing that character; and he solemn-
ly declares, that he is utterly unconscious of present-
ing one feature more strongly than truth permitted, or
even demanded. When he asserts as he does most con-
scientiously — that he never, for the last fourteen years,
endured one anxious feeling of apprehension respect-
ing his child's future interests in time or eternity — that,
from a perfect conviction of the purity and strength of
his religious principles, his parents could ever repose
on him the most unlimited contidence — the public will
admit that, in whatever he has said, he is, at least, sin-
cere. On this subject he dares to appeal, without hes-
itation, from his own testimony, to the united opinions
of many — and especially of those numerous youths, both
at home and at College, with whom his sou was most
intimately acquainted ; and to whom he necessarily' ap-
peared, in his hours of rehixation, without even the pos-
sible suspicion of disguise. If tulth be rAKEGVRic, the
PREFACE. XI
eulogium must stand : and the writer can never suffi-
ciently praise God that, in this case, an eulogium can
be Aiirly pronounced ; and that, amidst recollections
which awaken all the tenderest and most painful emo-
tions of his heart, he has not to look back on one act of
disobedience, or one moral delinquency of his son.
That son was, unquestionably, conscious of his own im-
perfections before God ; and sought, through the medi-
ation of a Saviour, the pardon of his sins ; but, in all
that was visible to man, there was the evident opera-
tion of that sacred principle, which taught him "to de-
ny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly,
righteously and godly in this present world."
The Avriter has found it difficult to satisfy himself in
making a selection from Essays and Poems, which would^
altogether, fill several volumes, and which afford strik-
ing evidences of industry, if not of taste and judgment.
In making the selection, he has done his best ; though
he can confidently assert, that there are among the un-
published pieces several quite equal to those contained
in these volumes, and one superior to any among them.
HIS BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD.
My beloved child, William Friend, so named from
his maternal grandfather, was born January 7th, 1803.
It was no sooner announced to me that " a man child
was born into the world," than I most solemnly dedica-
ted him to his Maker ; and from that day to the dread-
ful moment in which I heard he was gone beyond the
reach, or the need of prayer, I never once, to the best
of my recollection, offered my supplications to God in
private, without distinctly remembering and mentioning
him. Since his removal, it has been one of mj' bitter-
est griefs, that neither he nor those with whom he had
a common and an equal interest in my affections, remain
to form an object of solicitude in such hallowed employ-
ments. The sincerity with which I so often made that
dedication, has now been put to a severe test; and,
though not without "•strong crying and tears," I have
been enabled, through the grace of Him who smote me,
to say, '•'• The Lord gave, and the Lord laketh away,
and blessed be the name of the Lord." The celebrated
.Tohn Ilowe, in addressing Sir Charles and Lady Hogh-
1
10
ton,* on an occasion similar to that wliich has agonized
my heart, says, " You concurred in this the dedication of
your son — you covenanted with God in Christ to be his
God. But then you ought to consider what the import
and meaning was of that your covenant. Was- it not
absolute and without limitation, that God should be a
God to him entirely, and without reserve ? and that he
should be kis^ absolutely, and be disposed of by him, at
his pleasure ? Otherwise, there was a repugnancy and
contradiction in tlie very terms of your covenant. Is not
God, the name of a being incapable of limitation ? — And
when he makes his demand from us of what we, on our
part, are to be and do ; he demands our all, absolutely ;
that we surrender ourselves and ours, whatsoever we are
and have, to his pleasure and dispose, without other ex-
ception or restriction, than by his promise, he hath laid
upon himself"
I felt most deeply the importance of the charge
which Providence had devolved upon me. Not utterly
a stranger to the state of human nature, to the way-
wardness of the heart, to the dangers which beset every
part of the path of life ; 1 trembled, lest, through a de-
fect in his education, through any impropriety in our
example, or through some foreign influence, he might
become an injury to the world, a dishonor to his God :
— and looking upon him, I uttered the language of an-
other father, similarly circumstanced : —
* Dedication to his " Redeemer's Dominion over the invisible
World," a Sermon of almost unequalled vigor, beauty and) ithos,
preached nearlj' a century and half ago.
It
*â– ' Now tliou art listed in the war of life,
The prize immense, and oh ! severe the strife I
Thou embryo-angel, or thou infant fiend,
A being now begun, but ne'er to end,
What boding fears a father's heart torment,
Trembling and anxious for the grand event,
Lest thy young soul, so late by Heaven bestowed,
Forget her father, and forget her God !
Lest, while imprison'd in this house of clay,
To tyrant lusts she fall a helpless prey !
And lest, descending still from bad to worse,
Her immortality should prove her curse !
Maker of souls ! avert so dire a doom,
Or snatch her back to native Nothing's gloom !"
DAVIS,
These apprehensions of possible evil did not destroy
the pleasure which our lovely boy produced. We call-
ed to remembrance the promises of God to the faith-
ful ; the assistances which he had aftbrded many of our
friends in training up their families ; and the happy suc-
cess which had crowned labors as humble as our own.
They gave, however, a tone of deep and anxious feeling
to our hearts, awakened within us the spirit of prayer,
and roused us to the exercise of our judgments respect-
ing the pleasing, but solemn duties assigned us. On
many particular occasions did both his mother and my-
self jointly make these the special subjects of our peti-
tions. Nor had we, in after life, neither have I to this
moment, reason to doubt, that He, " who heareth
prayer,'' approved and answered ours. Few can be ig-
norant that the direct and immediate influence produced
by exercises of this kind on the mind is great and most
12
salutary : they bind us, in common consistency, to act as
we pray. Philosophy, which, on such subjects, only
skims the surface, may maintain, that this is the sole ef-
fect ; but that word, on which I have long rested my
hopes, and which now affords, not merely my richest,
but my only consolation, assures us, that, however im-
mutable the plans of the " only wise God" may be,
our prayers, when sincere and. fervent, avail much in
heaven.
Besides the abundant consolation which flowed to us
from the word of truth, / found my burden most mate-
rially alleviated by a knowledge of the sound sense, cul-
tivated understanding, affectionate heart and christian
principle of his beloved mother ; who possessed, in a
high degree, almost every mental and moral excellency
for which her son was afterwards so distinguished. I
knew, from the experience of three years, that she was
deficient in no single qualification of a " help meet" for
me in the education of our common charge.
He passed through his earliest years, with no more
than the ordinary share of infantile diseases ; which
sometimes alarmed us for a season, but never produced
any lasting fears. We enjoyed liim greatly ; nor did
either our tempers or our principles permit us to refuse
the comfort with which Providence had supplied us in
the health and sprighfliness of our child ; we were not
disposed to dash the cup of happiness with the bitterly
tormenting inquiry, ' How could we endure to lose him ?'
This disposition accompanied us through life : and ex-
cept in cases of real or apparent danger, neither his
mother nor myself ever endured, on this ground, a mo-
13
ment's anxiety. 67te, iu adverting to it, has often said,
" The probability is, that he will survive us both ; and
why should we torment ourselves with the voluntary
apprehension of an evil which may never arrive ? God
may take him from us ; ' sufficient for the day will be
the evil thereof;' and sufficient, unquestionably, will
be our strength from above to bear it : but why should
we not enjoy him while he lives, instead of embittering
the present by the agonies of anticipation ? *' It will be
enough" — (Alas I / find it so !) — "• it will be enough to
endure his actual death, without enduring the dread of
meeting the evil at every turn of his passage through
lite." Thus have been secured to me nineteen entire
years of parental bliss — a larger share, I fear, than falls
to the Jot of many parents who possess their children
for a much longer time.
We deemed it imperiously necessary to form, while
he was yet in his infancy, a plan of future management,
to begin from the moment that he should emerge from
that state. It was, I imagine, little if any thing, more
than that of all considerate parents ; and if more than
ordinarily successful in the application, it arose from
the circumstance that while we had to operate upon the
most favourable materials, the plan was invariably pur-
sued : I say, invariably^ for I am not aware, that it was
ever, in a single instance, essentially neglected.
We had determined, from the beginning, to act in
PERFECT UNISON — and if there should, at any time, occur
an unavoidable difference in opinion, never to let him
perceive it. If 1 had, as was sometimes probably the
case, been unreasonable in demanding more than was
1*
14
to be fairly expected, or in insisting on what was, in his
circumstances, impracticable, his mother was uniformly
silent before him, and shewed me, when alone, the ex-
travagance of my requisitions — thus affording me an op-
portunitj' of averting or correcting any evil that might
have been threatened or produced — without begetting
in his mind a notion that he might calculate on a rival-
ship betwixt the sternness of a father, and the excessive
indulgence of a mother. He ever considered us as one
— expected an equal share of tender affection from both
— and was not, I trust, wholly disappointed.
We never emploj'ed the ordinary and vulgar meth-
od of FRIGHTENING him juto obedicncc. Nothing but ig-
norance and weakness will resort to expedients which
produce in many, and even in some powerful minds, dis-
tressing associations which no future instructions or rea-
sonings can totally dissolve ; and which are, not unfre-
quently, the foundation of mental habits, which destroy
the entire comfort of future life, lead to a mad-house,
or terminate in suicide. Never to the moment of his
entrance upon the unseen world, did he know the tor-
ment of a superstitious apprehension.
It was an essential part of our plan never either to
DECEIVE HIM, Or to Suffer him to be deceived. We car-
ried this into every thing. One deception discovered
by a child — (and children are adepts at making such
discoveries) — will ever shake that perfect confidence
on which a parent has to calculate as the main assistant
in a moral education. On this we rested a large share
of our hope, and it never disappointed us. When about
two years of age, he was afflicted with an inflammation
15
of the lungs, which rendered respiration difficult. In-
capable of transl'erring so precious a charge to other
hands, we sat up with him, watched, wept, and prayed
over hira, as he lay dozing or restless. It was necessa-
ry he should take medicine. This he refused, saying,
" I can't, papa, it makes me sick." 1 answered, " My
dear, it will make you sick ; I know it is unpleasant ; but
it must be taken. You will be the better for it after-
wards." This reasoning making, as may be imagined,
little impression, in opposition to his feelings^ I deemed
it necessary to add, in a tone perfectly understood,
" Unpleasant as it is, you must and shall take it." As he
never knew us promise or threaten in vain, the case was
instantly decided: and he never, from that time, refused
any draught, however nauseous. This saved us much
future perplexity.
He was never PERMrxxED to carry a poinx by impor-
TUN[XY. We strove early to establish in his mind a con-
viction of our superior wisdom, and of a disposition to
do every thing, which, in our judgment, could make
him happy. " Do you not think we know what is best
tor you?" 'Yes.' "Do you not know that we love
you too well to keep from you any thing that would
make you happy?" ' Yes.' "• Well, then, why do you
ask a second time for what we would have given you at
once if it had been proper ?" After some such short di-
alogues as this, it was almost needless to say more. He
might, perhaps, a iew times, have urged a request, with
the hope of subduing us : but after giving him two or
three practical proofs of its inefficacy, there never was
occasion to speak twice. Why will any parents, to save
themselves the pain of a momentary decision, encour-
age a practice which, when formed into a habit, is
equally injurious to one party, and vexatious to the oth-
er ! A child that can conquer, by cries or entreaty, once
in twenty times, will be sure always to make the effort:
for, however the chances may be against him, a mind
intent on its object, will convert the mere possibility of
success into a aufhcieni probabblity to justify the perpet-
ual attempt.
We were equally anxiotis never to be conquered by
HIS OBSTINACY. As he was to reign only in our affec-
tions, our will, when once announced, was the law of
the house. In cases where his mind was capable of
perceiving the reasons of a decision, we often assigned
them ; but anxious to convince him that there always
were reasons, we demanded an entire acquiescence in
our determination, whether he saw its reasonableness
or not; assuring him, that he would himself, when old-
er and wiser, see that we had done right. When about
two years of age, the question was brought to a practi-
cal issue : he obstinately refused for two hours to com-
ply with a demand from his mother to beg her pardon
for an offence. She was inflexible ; and at length, he
modestly turned round, submissively fell on his knees at
her feet, and, in the most penitential accents, said, " I
beg your pardon, mamma, and will never be so naughty
again." The consequence of this patient decision was
permanent. I am confident, that from that moment to
the hour of his death, he never meditated opposition to
our will, nor said or did a thing of which he feared we
might seriously disapprove. In the merest trifles, no
17
less really than in the most momentous engagements of
his life, he was ever studious of our happiness ; and he
felt, that, in consulting this, he was securing his own.
These remarks may seem both trifling and unneces-
sary to those who have paid little or no attention to the
philosophy of education ; and who conceive it to consist
only in the whipping and discipline of a school and a
college ; nor, in truth, do I entertain much hope that
they will derive any material benefit from such minute-
ness. If not already aware that on these trifling circum-
stances much of the future character depends, I can
scarcely calculate on finding among them a suflicient
share of discernment to perceive the force of arguments
by which the actual importance of these seeming trifles
can be demonstrated. 1 wish to present before the pub-
lic a youth of no ordinary character, equally distinguish-
ed by the brilliancy of his mental powers, the sweet-
ness of his temper, and the strength and steadiness of
his christian principles : — and it is not unnatural that I
should give in detail the particulars of that process of
education, by which, under God, those powers were de-
veloped, and that entire character formed. The first
five or six years generally determine that which consti-
tutes the individuality — the leading peculiarity^ of the
man through life. And he must have been a careless
observer, who has not perceived the permanence of
earl}' associations and early habits. Circumstances, in
after life, may modify that peculiarity, but they will
never be able wholly to destroy it. And even the pow-
er of divine grace, which may effect a total moral rev-
olution ; which may implant principles, that, after un-
18
folding themselves here, shall receive their more com-
plete development in another world ; will leave it to
the end of time almost untouched. It has become too
intimately a part of the mental constitution to be annihi-
lated by any thing short of that solemn event, which
shall dissolve every earthly tie, and place us in a region
of light and love, whose transforming influence shall
leave no portion of the character unassimilated to the
likeness of our God and Saviour. As the efficacy of
even religious principles, in forming the character, is so
materially affected by these previous associations and
habits, it is of immense importance to the individual and
to society that special attention should be paid to the
minuter circumstances of early life. These remarks
will, it is hoped, be deemed sufficient to justify the past,
or any future, detail of particulars.
19
HIS RELIGIOUS EDUCATION,
The most important light in which our dear child ap-
jteared to us was that of a moral axd immortal being.
And while we earnestly prayed for the advancement of
his highest interests in time and eternity, we knew that
it were mockery to offer prayer, did we not employ all
the means in our power to enlighten, impress, and guide
him. We ever felt that an influence from heaven was
necessary to render our labours effectual ; — that He,
" from whom cometh every good and perfect gift," must
be the primary agent in this great work ; — but that we
had to hope for and calculate on that influence, only as
we added our endeavours to our supplications. The
Nile, fed by the rains of distant mountains, rolls majes-
tically along in its course ; rises above, and spreads over
the face of Egypt ; giving to that land all its fertility :
— yet a large portion of the effect depends upon the
husbandmen, who wisely construct their reservoirs, and
so preserve the precious fluid, that, after the recession
of the stream, they may still conduct it to every part;
and thus conduce to the production of that enchanting
scene, which rises up to view, with a rapidity and love-
liness which almost surpass the charm of a poetic fic-
tion. This depends wholly on the Nile : yet it depends
upon the inhabitants of Egypt, whether "• the wilder-
ness and the solitary place shall be glad, and the desert
shall rejoice and blossom as the rose," or remain fruit-
20
less and unsightly as the neighbouring sands. In simple
truth, it depends on the union of both. Were the river
to refuse his supply, or the husbandmen to refuse to
avail themselves of his assistance, there would appear
neither the beauty nor the abundance for which that
land has, at certain seasons, been celebrated. And the
law, which runs through nature, is equally fixed in the
dispensations of grace, " work, for it is God that
works."
Our hearts were naturally formed to cheerfulness ;
and the religion of Jesus had always presented itself to
our minds as inexpressibly lovely, — as "glad tidings of