Mr.

in which he gave the strongest promise of eminent success. Wirt had not so far alienated himself from the memory and attachments of Pen Park as to lose his interest in the family which yet inhabited there. Death had made his usual ravages in the family circle, but the heart of him who had been so tenderly fostered under that roof, lost nothing of its original reverence for those who were departed, nor of its kind solicitude for the welfare of those who survived. This interest was cherished on both sides by frequent correspondence, but more particularly by that with Francis, who had grown to be an especial favorite with his brother-in-law. In this letter we get some agreeable glimpses of Pen Park and its inmates.

MY DEAR FRANCIS:

TO FRANCIS W. GILMER.

RICHMOND, October 9th, 1806.

Your favor of the 4th ult. came regularly to hand, and gave me all the pleasure you wished and intended. It has been lying ever since, in the drawer of my writing chair, waiting for an interval of leisure to answer it. I am sure I need not tell you what a source of delight it is to me to receive these assurances that my brothers and sisters of Albemarle still regard me as one of the same family, although sundered from them by my destiny. The misfortunes of Pen Park have, indeed, scattered us all most wofully, and placed us in every variety of circumstances and situation. Let it be the object of the survivors to soften these misfortunes. and their consequences, as well as they can, by cherishing for each other the most cordial affection, and reciprocally plucking from the path of life each thorn of care and sorrow as we go along. You, my dear Francis, and your brothers, will have a farther, and if possible, a still sweeter office to perform. To raise the name of Gilmer from the tomb, and crown it with fresh honors. I have seen that name honored and highly honored, for genius, science and virtue. The recollection is very dear to my heart. For what is lost I console myself with the hope that I shall live to see the day, when the family will rise to all its former reputation for superior endowments, both of the mind and heart; and even bloom with more extended and diversified honors. VOL. 1-14

The genius of the family is not lost. I am charmed to see it inherited in such abundance, and I cannot believe that its inheritors will, for want of energy and enterprise, fail to replace it on the roll of fame.

Peachy, I hear, is contributing his quota towards its restoration, by making very strenuous and successful exertions in Henry county. He has a good deal of his father's cast of character, and, among other qualities, will I think, possess the same manly and impressive eloquence for which he was remarkable. The bar will afford him a field for its display which his father had not. And therefore, if his exertions continue, he cannot fail to enlarge the sphere of the family distinction on this head. You, I understand, purpose to follow your father's profession. The science of medicine is, I believe, said to be progressive and to be daily receiving new improvements. You will therefore have a wide field to cultivate, and will take the profession on a grander scale. It will be your own fault therefore if you do not, as a physician, fill a larger space in the public eye. But the space which your father occupied was filled not merely by his eminence as a physician, (although he was certainly amongst the most eminent); he was moreover a good linguist, a master of botany, and the chemistry of his day, had a store of very correct general science, was a man of superior taste in the fine arts, and, to crown the whole, had an elevated and a noble spirit. In his manners and conversation he was a most accomplished gentleman; easy and graceful in his movements, eloquent in speech; in temper, gay and animated, and inspiring every company with his own tone; with wit pure, sparkling and perennial; and when the occasion called for it, uttering sentiments of the highest dignity, and utmost force. Such was your father, before disease had sapped his mind and constitution, and such the model which, as your brother, I would wish you to adopt. It will be a model much more easy for you to form yourself on, than any other, because it will be natural to you; for, I well remember to have remarked, when you were scarcely four years old, how strongly nature had given you the cast of your father's character. If he had lived and enjoyed his health until you had grown to manhood, you would have been his exact counterpart. All that you can do now is, to form to yourself by

the descriptions of others, an exact image of your father in his meridian, and even, if possible, to surpass him.

Endeavor to cultivate that superior grace of manners which distinguishes the gentleman from the crowd around him. In your conversation avoid a rapid and indistinct utterance, and speak deliberately and articulately. Your father was remarkable for his clear and distinct enunciation, and the judgment with which he placed his emphasis. Blend with the natural hilarity of your temper, that dignity of sentiment and demeanor, which alone can prevent the wit and humorist from sinking into a trifler, and can give him an effective attitude in society.

Get a habit, a passion for reading,-not flying from book to book, with the squeamish caprice of a literary epicure, but according to the course which Mr. Robertson will prescribe to you. Read systematically, closely and thoughtfully; analyzing every subject as you go along, and laying it up carefully and safely in your memory. It could have been only by this mode that your father gained so much correct information on such a variety of subjects. Determine with yourself that no application shall be wanting to lift you to the heights of public notice, and, if you find your spirits and attention beginning to flag, think of being buried all your life in obscurity, confounded with the gross and ignorant herd around you. But there are yet more animating and more noble motives for this emulation; the power of doing more extensive good, by gaining a larger theatre and increasing the number of objects; the pure delight of hearing one's self blessed, for benevolent and virtuous actions, and, as a still more unequivocal and rapturous proof of gratitude, "reading that blessing in a nation's eyes:" add to this, the communicating the beneficial effects of this fame to our friends and relations; the having it in our power to requite past favors, and to take humble and indigent genius by the hand, and lead it forward to the notice of the world. These are a few, and but a few, of the good effects of improving one's talents to the highest point by careful and constant study, and aspiring to distinction.

I am very much pleased with your letter. You read the classics with a discrimination of taste and judgment unusual at your years, and therefore the more honorable to you. I concur with you in your remarks upon the Eneid of Virgil, as well as

the Odes of Anacreon. I am fond of a vivid picture, painted to the fancy, such as Virgil's storm. Anacreon, too, is thought a good describer, in his way; but his way is a very bad one, and his odes can be estimated and enjoyed only by the debauchee who has himself rolled in the sensualities on which alone the genius of Anacreon seems to have luxuriated. I hope you will never possess this test for judging his merit. You will gratify me by writing to me often, and if you will allow me to write to you like an elder brother, who would wish you to profit by his own experience, and to attain all those honors which he has missed, you shall hear from me as often as I can find a leisure hour. My love to our brothers and sisters when you see them. Let me be remembered to Mr. and Mrs. Meriwether and Mr. R. Robertson; all of whom I very much esteem.

Your friend and brother,

WM. WIRT.

CHAPTER XIII.

1807.

AARON BURR BROUGHT TO RICHMOND.-INDICTED FOR TREASON.-WIRT RETAINED AS COUNSEL BY THE GOVERNMENT.-THE TRIAL.-SOME OF ITS INCIDENTS.-THE ASPERITY OF COUNSEL.-EXTRACTS OF THE ARGUMENT.

THE year 1807 is memorable in the life of Wirt as the year of the trial of Aaron Burr.

Burr's conspiracy is one of the most extraordinary incidents connected with the history of this country. Whether it were the mere dream of a bold, ambitious and wicked citizen, or his meditated and prepared enterprise, enough has been brought to light, in the investigation of that incident, to excite the amazement of every one that a man so eminent, so gifted with splendid talents, and so able to appreciate the character and temper of the American people, should have permitted himself to fall into the infatuation of even an idle speculation upon his power to accomplish what, from all the evidence which has been divulged, we are hardly at liberty to disbelieve was his purpose.

It seems certain that Burr entertained some visionary notion of his ability to produce a revolution in the government at the Capital; that he talked familiarly of expelling the President, and with no more than "the Marine Corps" at Washington, of driving, if need were, the Congress "into the Potomac." That he abandoned this project, for one which he supposed more practicable— the separation of the Union and the erection of a Western Confederacy beyond the Allegany. That finding this, upon more mature reflection, somewhat too arduous for his means, he finally sought the gratification of his restless and too prurient desire of fame, in a scheme to invade Mexico and make himself master of those fair domains.

The ill will engendered particularly throughout the Southern States against Spain, by her offensive policy in regard to the navigation of the Mississippi, and her still more offensive proceedings VOL. 1-14*