Life of the Honourable William Tilghman, late chief justice of the state of Pennsylvania

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OF THE HONOURABLE

TTILLIjLM tilc^hhah.

LATE CHIEF JUSTICE

OF THE

STATE OF PENNSYLVANIA.

COMPILED

FROM THE EULOGIES OF TWO DISTINGUISHED
MEMBERS OF THE PHILADELPHIA BAR,

AVHO DELIVERED THEM IN COMMEMORATION OF HIS VIRTUES.

BY JOHN GOLUER, Esq.

■ > , J J > J .

PHILADELPHIA:

PRINTED BY THOMAS TOWN, FOR THE AUTHOR.
1829.'

T HEN EVV YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUMDAtlONSi

1897.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The patient industry and research of the learned

Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to wit:

^%xxjt ^^ ^"^ REMEMBERED, that on the seventeenth day of Marcli

*--^**^'i5i in the fifty-third year of the Independence of the United

''*i States of America, A. D. 1829, JOHN COLDER, of the said

^ J4>^ District has deposited in this office the Title of a Book, the
5^^^^^ right whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to

wit :

LIFE OF THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM TILGHMAN, Late Chief
Justice of the State of Pennsylvania. Compiled from the Eulogies of two
distinguished Members of the Philadelphia Bar, who delivered them in
commemoration of his virtues. By John Golder, Esq.

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, intituled
" An act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the Copies of
Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies,
daring the times therein mentioned" — And also to the Act entitled, " An
Act supplementary to an Act, entitled "An Act for the Encouragement
of Learning, by securing the Copies of Maps, Charts and Books to the
Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during the times therein men-
rioned," and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, en-
graving, and etching historical and other prints."

D. CALDWELL, Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

of exemplary virtue, and an anxious attention to the
suffrages of posterity.'^

J. GOLDER.

January 20, 1829.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The patient industry and research of the learned
and eloquent eulogists of the late Chief Justice
Tilghraan^ have furnished the compiler of this biogra-
phy with all the materials necessary for his present
instructive undertaking: and although its magnitude
lias gone so far beyond his first proposal, as to require
that it should receive a separate publication, those
great facilities to his undertaking, have made his la-
bour both easy and agreeable.

Their brief but comprehensive record of his ances-
try^ traces its origin to the early period of Henry the
Eighth's reign, and portrays the living feature of
every incident apt to interest an American reader in
the nobility of his origin, or the reputation of his
family connections.

For the citizens of the United States have never
desired to extend their fame otherwise than by noble
deeds ; and to secure for their country the good will
of every nation by a dignified conduct, and greatness
of example, which neither illustrious birth, elevated
rank, or great fortune, can ever bestow ; " and which
even upon the throne, can only be acquired by a life
of exemplary virtue, and an anxious attention to the
suffrages of posterity .''

J. GOLDER.

January 20, 1829.

INTRODUCTION.

The object and chief aim of all science, and indeed
of every useful pursuit is to improve mankind in wis-
dom and goodness ; but could man derive the reputa-
tion of greatness, from no other earthly source than
those surrounding natural objects "which are as frail
and perishable as himself, there would be no hope
that he would devote his life to the cultivation of in-
tellectual possessions, which are the pride and glory
of his existence.

Few attain great eminence here, before the hand of
death performs its fatal office, and fixes them forever
beyond the reach of envy or the emulation of their co-
temporaries. And still fewer attain it by any of those
superior qualities of the soul which exalt the man,
and place him above the ordinary standard of moral
worth.

The evils of our nature are often mitigated, if not
principally removed, by the customary advantages of
social life, but this too, often gives birth to inquietude
of mind, which harrow and disturb its being with all

6 INIRODT CTION.

the sad couvictioti of our imperfections. Truth un-
folds if-s cliarms in the retirement of study: here the
great and the good^ the pious and the virtuous, have
ever been addicted to serious retirement.

It is the cliaracteristic of light and trifling minds
to be Vv'holly occupied with ^^the vulgar olyects of
life.'^ These fill up the measure of their ambition,
and furnish all the entertainments their rude appre-
hensions can relish. But the more refined and en-
larged mind leaves the world behind, feels a call for
higher pleasures, and seeks them diligently in the
sliades of retirement,

- A retirement, from the world of cares is surely
C/Ommendable at two periods of life : in the
bloom of youth when the understanding is the
most ready to acquire the rudiments of useful
knowledge, to lay the foundation of the character
intended to be formed, and to obtain that train of
thought which is to guide and influence our actions ;
in age, to take a retrospective view of the scenes we
have witnessed, to weigh the events we have passed,
the vicissitudes we have experienced, to regale our-
selves with the flowers we have gathered, to congratu-
late ourselves with the storms we have survived, and
finally to prepare ourselves faithfully to die in peace.
The man of public spirit has recourse to it in order to
form plans for the general good; the man of genius,
that he may contemplate the pleasures of his favourite

INTRODUCTION. * 7

theme; the philosopher, to pursue his tliscoveries,
and the christian that he may improve in grace, and
hold a sweet communion with his God. And yet the
fund of living reputation;, which is the reward of study
and retirement, is ever exposed to the rude winds of
envy and defamation, which nothing shields it from,
but the cover of the grave.

He then, who would form the imperishable model
of wisdom, genius, and patriotism, must look inquiring
to the mansions of the dead : it is there he may con-
template the virtues of its illustrious inhabitants, and
raise his aftectious by great and noble examples cT
benificence and love to man. Divine wisdom in thw
gracious expanse of its infinite mercy, has never re-
fused the intelligent creation any possession of social
good, which is compatible with our being, and worthy
of our enjoyment.

A wide, and at the same time, well organized uni-
verse, occupies the extensive sphere allotted to the
enjoyment of man, a uniform and undivided council
gave it existence, and the same power preserves its
dominion : yet but one family compose its inhabitant-?.
The living and the dead, are both subjects of its go-
vernment ; the one forever are guarded and guided by
its providence, as the peculiar favourites of its grace,
the other lives only in tlieir virtuous reputation.

So that when death does take from us any of the
reat and good, the dearest ties of our earthly attach-

8 INTRODUCTION.

ments, it does not deprive us of the pure example of
their virtues : that is ours by inheritance, death is
only the grantor of its possession, and when we are
called to commemorate the melancholy transfer, we
but pay the debt we owe^ and ratify and confirm our
inheritance.

LIFE

OF THE HONOURABLE

TTILLIAM TILG-HKAir,

Late Chief Justice of the State of Pennsylvania.

William Tilghman was born on the 12th day of
August 1756, in Talbot county, on the Eastern shore
of Maryland, upon his father's plantation near Eas-
ton, which is at present occupied by Col. liichard
Tilghman, one of the descendants of the family.

His paternal great grand-father, Richard Tilghman,
was a European by birth, who emigrated to the then
Province of Maryland, from Kent county England,
about the year of our Lord 1662, and settled on the
East side of Chester river in Queen Ann's county.

His Father, James Tilghman, was an eminent
lawyer in his day; and was particularly known and
respected by the profession of Pennsylvania, for the
accuracy of his judgment and superiority of his system
and method in effecting an arrangement, and business
like regularity in the various duties of the Proprietary
land office, during the period he officially occupied
that interesting department as Secretary, under the
Proprietor of Pennsylvania.

10 r,TFE or

He studied law under 'J^'cuch Krancis, Esq. an em-
inent lawyer in Philadelphia at that time, whose
dausjliter Anne, he afterwards married. Mr. Francis
was a brother of Kichard Francis, the author of the
Maxims in Equity, and also of Dr. Philip Francis, the
learned translator of H.orac3.

it is not surprising to iind among the colateral an-
cestors of the late Chief Justice, the author of one of
the earliest compends of scientific equity and an ac-
complished scholar of the Augustan age.

In the year 176?, Mr. Tilghman removed with
his family from the Province of Maryland, when his
son William, the subject of this memoir, was but six
years of age ; and in the succeeding year he was sent
to the academy, then under the superintendence and
direction of tlie Rev. Mr. Kinnersly, and in the reg-
ular progress of the classes came under the instruc-
tion of Mr. Beveridge, from whom he received his
foundation in Latin and Greek. At the death of Mr.
Beveridge his chair was successively filled by Mr.
Wallis, Dr. Davidson and the Rev. Mr. Patterson;
William was continued at this school until the year
1769, when he entered the college. Professor Smith,
was then Provost, J)r. Francis Allison, Vice Provost,
and Mr. Paul Took, teacher of the French language;
the Vice Provost instructed the students in the higher
Greek and Latin classics. Such was this assiduous
pupils devotion toliterature during his stay at college,
that he had received the Batchellors degree, and was
in the ordinary sense prepared for a profession at this

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. li

asre; but he vet delklited to dwell with the classics,
which he read with the advantage of Dr. Allisons
prelictions with more than ordinary facility.

At this sera, science had asserted her pretensions
to the American soil ; and altho' it had been vainly
contended in the British Parliament, that this country,
so perfectly congenial as it is, to all the advantages
of freedom, had no taste for the Arts, and no efficient
patrons of the science : '* that even the nightingale
could not live upon our shores, '^ Pennsylvania put
forth her enterprise, and her sage Franklin, succeed-
ed in establishing a public library, which was soon
the medium of instituting a society for the promotion
of useful knowledge ; the college and academy of
Philadelphia being' then under the direction of dis-
tinguished Professors, and in the twelfth year of their
existence, flourished beyond the expectation of their
patrons, and foiled the hopes of those who opposed
them.

In those days no Royal road had been discovered
to shorten the rugged patii to science. The same
course of studies was pursued which had raised Mil-
ton, and Newton, Pope, Dryden, Locke, and the nu-
merous host of English v/orthies, to that eminence
v/hich so few now are able to reach. Knowledge was
still sought for at the fountain heads, and sufficient
time and labour were generally devoted to its pursuit.
It is, therefore, no cause of wonder that so many
great men appeared and blazed upon us at ouce, at
the period of our revolution.

12 LIFE OF

At the close of the year 1771;, Wm. Tilghmaa's
mother died and his father was now growing old,
and was left with the charge of a family of ten chil-
dren. He saw the necessity of losing no time to put
his son William in a situation to provide for himself,
in case he should lose his remaining parent. This
compelled him to ahandon the plan of education which
he had so wisely begun. He therefore withdrew him
from college, and placed him as a student in the office
of the late Benjamin Chew, Esq., who was then at
the head of the legal profession in this city, and was
afterwards the last Chief Justice of the Province un-
der the proprietary government, and President of the
High Court of Errors and Appeals under the Com-
monwealth, in which office he continued until that
Court was abolished. An intimate friendship had
long subsisted between Mr. Chew and the elder
Tilghman, and therefore it must be presumed that he
took the greatest care to promote his sou's advance-
ment in knowledge, for which no one was better fitted
than himself.

William Tilghman remained four years under the
tuition of Mr. Chew, assidiously attending to his
studies and to the duties of the office. But while he
was so engaged, the revolution broke out, and in
1776, the Independence of these States was formally
declared. This rendered a change necessary in the
arrangements of the family. His father, who stood
high in the esteem of the proprietaries, had enjoyed
under them an honourable and lucrative office, which

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 13

he, of course, lost, when the old government ceased
to exist. He was now sixty years old, at the head
of a numerous family : he had a valuable estate la
Maryland, to which he was obliged to look for sup-
port. He therefore, determined to remove again to
that colony, now become an independent state, and
struggling with the rest for its political existence.

In consequence of this new arrangement, William
Tilghman left Mr. Chew's office in December 1776,
and proceeded to Maryland, where some of his bro-
thers and sisters had preceded him. From that time
until the summer of 1799, he lived in great retirement
on an estate of his father's, in Queen Anne's county,
called the Forest, which estate, after his father's
death came to his share, and continued in his pos-
session until he died. During that period of two
years and a half, he pursued with ardour his favour-
ite studies. Jurisprudence, History, and the Belles
Letters. In the summer of 1779 he removed to
Chester Town, where his father had fixed his resi-
dence. And there, until the close of the revolutionary
war, in the year 1788, he continued his studies with
the same zeal and perseverance as he had done in his
former retreat ; and during those six years that he
spent at the Forest and at Chester Town, he became
intimately acquainted with the great writers of Greece
and Rome, and acquired that taste for ancient litera-
ture, which adhered to him to his last day.

The family of Tilghman, it appears, entertained
different opinions on tlie great queytiou which at that

i4 LIFE OF

time divided the mother country from the Colonies.
His eldest brother Tench Tilghman, had at an early
period taken a decided and active part in favour of
the revolution. His military talents were soon dis-
tinguished by Washington, who attached him to his
person, as his aid-de-camp, in which capacity he
remained until the conclusion of the war, after which,
like the modern Cincinnatus, he returned to his farm.
One of his younger brothers, Philemon, took service
in the British navy, and married a daughter of Ad-
miral Milbankc, by whom he had several children,
who now reside in England. The others took diifer-
ent parts as their opinions or inclinations led them.
Such are the lamentable effects of civil wars.

Another effect of these political storms, which this
country for a while severely felt, was that when they
brake out, these young men whose education was not fi-
nished, were called too soon into active life, and a whole
generation did feel the deficiency of the precious instruc-
tion which it would otherwise have acquired, and of
which the country would have received the benefit.
It is, however, happy for a nation, when under such
circumstances, some young men are found, who, like
Tilghman, leave the helm of State and the brunt of
battles, to more ardent and aspiring minds, and pre-
pare themselves in silence to repair in peace, the evils
produced by war.

At last the temple of Janus was closed ; the pomp
and circumstances of war were laid aside, and the
American nation sat down to enjoy her dear bought

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 15

independence. Tilgliman had now entered his twen-
ty-seventh year ; he saw that it was time to abandon
his beloved retirement, and to act a part on the great
theatre of the world. He began the practice of the
law, in which he soon became eminent, and the eye
of the public from that time was fixed upon him. In
this country, public employments follow a man of
merit as surely as the shadow follows the substance.
In the year 1788, and for several successive vears
thereafter, he was elected a member of the house of
delegates of Maryland, and afterwards a senator of
that state. In the year 1789, he was also proclaimed
one of the electors appointed to choose the first Pre-
sident of the United States, under the federal consti-
tution ; and about the year 1793, (a few months pre-
vious to his marriage with Miss ]Margaret Allen, the
daughter of Mr. Jas. Allen, of Philadelphia, who
was a son of the honourable William Allen, who
had preceded Mr. Chew in the office of Chief Jus-
tice of Pennsylvania,) he removed to this city and
assiduously applied himself to the practice of the law;
and soon acquired a respectable practice. The
bar of Philadelphia was at that time, most justly con-
sidered the first in the United States. Wilson
indeed had quitted it for a seat on the Supreme Court
Bench of the Union, and the elder Seargent had re-
cently fallen a victim to that dreadful fever which will
make the year 1793 a memorable era in the annals
of Pennsylvania. But Bradford, then attorney general
of the United States; Lewis, Dallas, the elder Tilgh-

16

LIFE OF

man, and the ekler Ingersol, and others of the old
school; not yet extinguished, were still alive in the
full display of their brilliant talents. And in addi-
tion to these incalculable advantages, Philadelphia
was then the seat of the general government, and its
courts were resorted to by Ames, Hamilton, Harper,
Pringle, and other great men, from the neighbouring
and from the most remote States in the Union ; and
the hall of justice often resounded with the thunder
of their eloquence. Such were the competitors, in
the midst of wliom Mr. Tilghman had to advance.
His talents were not of that eloquent cast which dis-
tinguished the leading counsel at the bar of Philadel-
phia. Modest and dijffident of his own merit, he could
not wholly overcome those feelings, which men of
superior minds have so often found in the way of their
professional success.

This must be ascribed to the long time that he spent
in studious retirement, which, wiiile it added to his
stock of knowledge and strengthened bis judgment,
left him deprived of those advantages which a bold
and ready elocution can command. Yet his practice
continued respectable. His profound knowledge, his
discriminating mind, and his logical acumen, made
him a powerful antagonist in those cases where not
the passions of a jury, but the discernment of en-
lightened judges must be applied to. There he felt
conscious of his powers, and displayed them to the
greatest advantage, and very often witli success. He
could be eloquent also, when not called upon to dis-
play that talent on the spur of the moment.

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 17

Thus dividing his tiaie between a profession that
he loved, and a wife whom he adored, he enjoyed as
much happiness as 'may be expected to fall to the lot
of man ; but that happiness, alas ! was not to be of
long duration. A little more than three years had
elapsed from the time of his marriage, when he had
the misfortune to lose that wife, on whom he had
rested his fondest hopes. She died in the month of
December, 1797, leaving behind her a daughter, the
only pledge of their mutual affection, who was also,
doomed to an untimely fate.

The acuteness of his feelings upon this event, rou-
sed him to increased exertion ; his talents were dis-
played with more force than they had been before,
and soon became so conspicuous as to point him out
to the national, as well as to the state government, as
a fit character for the most elevated stations in the
judicature of his country. The opportunity soon of-
fered to place him in a situation worthy of himself.

Congress having thought proper to establish a new
organization of the Circuit Courts of the United States,
jMr. Tilghman was appointed by President John
Adams, on the 3d of March, 1801, presiding Judge
of the third circuit, which consisted of Eastern and
Western Pennsylvania, and the states of New Jersey
and Delaware. His associates were Mr. GriiBth, of
New Jersey, a lawyer of great eminence, and Mr.
Bassett, of Delaware. He was in this manner placed
at the head of the federal judiciary of three States ;
but did not remain long in that situation, as in the

^8 LIVE OF

year foiluwing, the system was ai^aiii altered^ aiul the
new courts abolished. This last change is still la-
mented by many well wishers to the good government
of this country.

Under that arrangement two circuit courts only
were held in the city of Philadelphia, the part of his
circuit where arose the causes of the greatest impor-
tance. There, he began to display those judicial
talents for which he has become so justly celebrated.
On the dissolution of the court, he was seen to descend
from the bench with universal regret.

Still modest and unassuming, he at once returned
to the exercise of his profession. But he had not
long to continue in it. On the resignation of Judge
Coxe, in the year 1805, he was appointed by Gover-
nor M'Kean, President of the several courts of the
first judicial circuit of this State, which then consist-
ed of the city and county of Philadelphia, and of the
counties of I3ucks» Montgomery, and Delaware.
And this was only a step to a more elevated seat.

About the close of the same year, the office of Chief
Justice of this commonwealth became vacant, by the
resignation of the venerable Edward Shippen, a few
months before his lamented death. The appointment
of a successor to that great and good man was become
an object of the most serious consideration. Party
spirit was then high in Pennsylvania. There were
men at that time who sought popularity by excitin
the people against the judiciary order. The bar was
the principal object of their animadversions, and

O"

a

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 19

lawyers were the butt of their constant invective.
Nothing less was talked of than their entire destruc-
tion. The spirit, strange as it may seem, had found
its way into the .Legislature, who in the beginning of
1806, passed two celebrated laws, the object of which
was to enable parties to manage their causes, without
the aid of attornics or counsel. By one of them, the
forms of judicial proceedings were altered with that
special view ; by tlie other, a compulsory mode of
trial by arbitration was established. These acts are
still in force ; but their elTect has not been such as was
expected from them.

Under those circumstances, it became of the high-
est importance to place a proper person at the head of
the judiciary of Pennsylvania. Governor M'Kean,
than whom there was not a better judge of merit;
found in Mr. Tilghman, a man profoundly versed in
the laws of his country, a man of firmness of charac-
ter, and at the same time of a mild and conciliating dis-
position, and he made choice of him for that high
station. His choice was justified by the fortunate
tivent. The prejudice against the law and lawyers
which had risen to such an alarming height, gradu-
ally subsided, and every tiling soon returned to its
usual channel. That temporary effervescence is now
almost entirely forgotten.

Mr. Tilghman was appointed to the office of Chief
Justice, on the 26th of February, 1806, and held it
during the space of twenty-one years, to the tirae of
his death. It was before that nppointmont, and while

20 LIFE OF

he was yet at the bar, that he was elected a member
of the Philosophical Society of Pennsylvania, on the
19th of April, 1805.

At that time, it is now acknowledged, and from
thence until after the peace of 1814, that Association
seemed struck with an extraordinary apathy ; the
spirit which Franklin and Hittenhouse had infused
and kept alive, no longer stimulated its members.
Jefferson was, indeed, then President, but his resi-
dence was too far from Philadelphia, and being at
the head of the Government of the United States, he
had no leisure to attend to the calls of science; the
commerce of the world which our country for a long
time enjoyed, interrupted as it was by the orders and
decrees of the then two great powers of Europe, and
the short war which followed, engrossed the atten-
tion of our citizens ; literature and science were not
encouraged, their friends seemed to be folding their
arms in silent despair, and anxiously waiting for bet-
ter times.

Those times at last arrived, and a new spirit was
felt in the passing breeze. Mr. Jefferson resigned
the Presidency, which he could not exercise at a dis-
tance from the society's hall, and recommended Dr.
Wistar for his successor. Wistar was elected in Jan-
uary, 1815, and Jonathan Williams, the nephew of
Franklin, and one of the most active and useful
members, was raised to a Vice President's seat, by
the side of Patterson and Barton. From that moment
the society began to revive ; a new and strong im-

WILLIAM TILGIIMAN. 21

pulse was giveu^ the effects of which did not remain
long unperceived.

We are informed till then, the society had confined
their pursuits to the sciences and arts which have the
material world for their ohject, to the exclusion of
those which are called by way of distinction, the
moral sciences. Many of its members, however,
had paid more attention to the latter, than to the
former of these two great divisions of human know-
ledge, and therefore, were prevented from shariug
in the labours of their society. It was at once per-
ceived how important it would be to secure the co-
operation of those men, by enlarging the field of the
society's researches. A new committee was added to
the six that already existed, which was denomi-
nated the Committee of History, the Moral Sciences,
and General Literature. Like all innovations, this
was not introduced without diflSculty ; but the friends
of the measure at last succeeded. Among those who
exerted themselves to procure its adoption, Mr.
Tilghman was conspicuous. His successful exer-
tions were rewarded with the honourable appoint-
ment of chairman to the new committee, his conduct
showed that this trust could not have been placed in
better hands.

The society did not limit to that the expression
of their gratitude. In the year that 1 am speaking
of, they suflered the loss of two of their vice-presi-
dents, who ranked among their most distinguished
members. Jonathan Williams, whom I have just

22 LIFE OF

mentioned, and Br. Benjamin 8. Earton, died within
a short period of each other. Williams was deeply
skilled in natural philosophy ; his valuable commu-
nications enriched their memoirs, and some of them
received the honours of a translation in various Eu-
ropean languages, even into the Russian. The fame
of Barton as a naturalist and phylologist, extended
over both worlds. His Elements of Botany were
re-printed in England, and translated at St. Peters-
burg. His numerous memoirs and dissertations threw
considerable light on the natural history of our coun-
try. And he was the first who, by the publication of
his ^^ New Views,'^ drew the attention of the learned
to the languages of our American Indians, which
now constitute so interesting a part of the philological
science.

At the election of officers which took place in Ja-
nuary, 1816, Mr. Tilghman was chosen to succeed
Dr. Barton, as one of the vice-presidents of the so-
ciety, while he remained at the same time at the head
of the Historical and Literary Committee. In this
double capacity he displayed the greatest activity
and zeal.

The Historical Committee was then engaged in an
-extensive correspondence, in order to collect the
fleeting materials of the history of our country. For
that purpose they met regularly every week, and their
labours were crowned with success. They obtained
a large quantity of important documents, which pro-
bably otlierwise would have been lost to our pos-

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 23

tcrity. In this eulogium on Dr. Wistar, Mr. Tilgh-
man feelingly described those meetings, and told
how they were often prolonged to a late hour in the
night, while the members sat heedless of passing
time ^' over the embers of a dying fire." But he did
not speak of the part he had in creating that interest
which riveted us to the spot, while he poured out the
rich stores of his classic mind. At those meetings
he never failed to attend. Tilghman, Wistar, Correa,
occasionally Heckewelder, and others still living,
formed the active part of the committee. Tilghman
and Wistar were its life and soul, and their labours
were not the less unremitted, nor less important, for not
being so conspicuous as those of the members whose
exertions they stimulated and encouraged. In this
manner three short years elapsed, in the coarse of
which the Society published a volume of Philosophi-
cal and one of Historical Transactions : but those
three years were marked by private and public ca-
lamity.

^^On the 17th June, 1817, Mr. Tilghman lost his
only daughter, on whom, since the death of his belov-
ed wife, he had fixed all his happiness in this life.
She died in child-bed at the premature age of 23
years. She had not been long before united to the
man of her choice, who enjoyed and merited her ten-
derest aJGfection. The grief of Tilghman on meeting
with this sad stroke, can only be compared to that of
the Roman orator, when he lost his adored Tulliola.
With what pathetic feeling did it burst from him,

24 LIFE OF

when called upon, in the succeeding year, to pcrforQi
the mournful task of commemorating the death of his
friend Wistar ! " We have lost him/' said he, ^^ in
the strength of life, and vigour of intellect; too soon,
indeed, for his family and his country ; but not too
soon for his own happiness. Protracted life might
have been embittered by bodily pain ; the frailties of
nature might have dimmed the lustre of brighter years ;
or death, which spared him, might have desolated his
house, and left him solitary and cheerless, to encoun-
ter the infirmities of age. Happy, then, wert thou,
Wistar, in death, as well as in life,'-'

Thus Tilghman spoke. The tears which inter-
rupted him, at this part of his discourse, made a deep
impression on the audience. Every heart re-echoed
— happy, indeed, wert tjiou, Wistar ! and we forgot
for a moment our sorrow for the death of that great
and good man, to ponder on the misfortunes of his
venerable Eulogist.

He had nov/, as he expresses himself in a pathetic
effusion, found among his papers after his death, at-
tained the age of sixty years, and survived parents,
brothers, sisters, wife, and child, and but few of his
dearest connexions remained in this world. One
would think, that hs had exhausted the cup of afflic-
tion. But another trial remained for him. Before
three years had elapsed, he lost his last hope upon
the earth, his grand-child. 1 shall not dwell on that
melancholy event. When the mind has been shaken
by a great calamity, it is prepared for every thing, and

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 25

It is but moderately affected by subsequent strokes.
Tilgliraan had learned the vanity of earthly blessings,
and fixed his hopes on a better world : he looked
down for a moment again upon earth, dropped a tear
and sought consolation in the bosom of his God.

The Society, as 1 have before mentioned, had ex-
tended the sphere of its labours, so as to take in the
whole circle of physical and moral sciences, and the
useful arts. Its chair was successively filled by rep-
resentatives, as it were, of the most prominent ob-
jects of its investigations. The press was first hon-
oured in the person of l^'ranklin. With Rittenhouse,
astronomy took its place. The philosophy of nature
next sat with Jefferson. With Wistar medicine, and
with Patterson the mathematical sciences were placed
at the head of this institution. Legislation and ju-
risprudence remained, and Tilghman was deserved-
ly chosen as the fittest person in the Society to receive
the homage due to that science on which depends
the peace, the social order, and the happiness of man-
kind.'^

The honours which the Society thus conferred upon
their lamented President, were by him unsought as
well as unexpected. He was too diffident of his own
merit to pretend to scientific or literary distinctions.
He never sought fame while he lived, and probably
never dreamt that it would follow his name after his
death. While in the stillness of his closet, he was
penning those judgments, which, by the care of able
and faithful reporters, now fill numerous volumes, and

2G UFE OF

"ivill go down vritli applause to posterity, be little'
thought what a solid monument he was erecting to his
own fame, and the happiness of his country.

Mis law arguments, were remarkable for the dis-
tinctness with which ha presented his case, and for
the perspicuity and accuracy with which his legal re-
ferences were made to sustain it. He was concise,
simple, occasionally nervous, and uniformly faithful
to the Court, as he was to the client. But the force
of his intellect resided in his judgment ; and even
higher faculties than his as an advocate, would have
been thrown comparatively into the shade, by the
more striking light which surrounded his path as a
judge.

An intimate friend of the Cnief Justice has said
that in all their intercourse, he never knew him allude
to the circumstance of having been a judge of the
federal court. There was doubtless a painful recol-
lection connected with it. It is known that his opin-
ion was against the validity of the repealing law; for
in a very able protest, published by Judge Bassett,
another member of the same court, in which the
breach of the constitution was strenuously asserted,
he remarks, " If any difference between me and my
associates in office exists, it relates merely to the point
of time for expressing our sentiments. I can confi-
dently assert, that, on deliberation, they coincide
with me in other respects.''

It vv'as reserved forjudge Tilghman, with the aid of
able and enlightened colleagues, to carry into effect the

ITILLIAH TILGHMAN. 27

plan which the genius of his great predecessor had
conceived. His philosophical mind perceived at
once how equity could be combined with law; how
two sysiems, apparently discordant coukl be amal-
gamated into an homogeneous whole ^ he found in
the common law itself, principles analogous to those
which courts of equity enforce ; principles too long
obscured by the unmeaning distiiictions and frivolous
niceties of scholastic men ; he wiped off the dust from
the diamond and restored it to its pristine splendor.
And though he did not entirely complete that im-
mense work, which still wants the aid of wise legis-
lators and liberal judges, he brought it to that degree
of perfection which defies all attempts to destroy it
in future, and Pennsylvania boasts of a code of laws
which her ordinary courts may safely administer with-
out the fear of doing injustice^ and without needing to
be checked by an extraordinary tribunal professing a
ilifferent system of jurisprudence.

With the same enlightened and philosophical spirit,
Judge Tilghman always gave a fair and liberal con-
struction to the statutes which the legislature made
from time to time for the amendment of the law and
simplifying the forms of proceeding, which, however
they might be suited to the meridian of England,
w^ere not well calculuted for this country. If those
statutes were not always drawn with the requisite
skill, he would supply it by their spirit, and would,
as much as indeed he could, carry into effect the iu-
ientions of the legislator. Thus, by hii interpretatioa

28 LIFE OF

of the statutes called of Jeofail, our practice is now
freed fi-om those technical entanglements by which
justice was too often caught, as it were, in a net, and
the merits of a cause made to yield to formal niceties,
while chicane rejoiced at the triumph of iniquity.
Nor did he hesitate to brush away the cobwebs of the
old English law, when he found them inconsistent
with the spirit of our own constitution and laws, or
with the habits, manners, and feelings of our people.
He was, nevertheless, a friend to tlic common law.
As a system, he admired it ; as the law of this land
he enforced it. He cherished it principally, as the
fountain ©f those principles of civil and religious
freedom, which, while despotism enslaved a willing
world, it was the first to proclaim, and whicli tlie na-
tions of the old and new hemisphere, through bloody
wars and revolutions, have been, and are still striving
witli various success, to naturalize in soils not yet,
perhaps, sufiiciently prepared for their reception.
Trial by jury, the liberty of the press, the sacred
privilege of habeas corpus, always found in him a
warm and an able supporter; and on these subjects
it is enough to say, that he established the long con-
tested general rule, that security for good behaviour
should not be demanded before conviction, particularly
in cases of alleged libel, where the accusation in-
volves the great principle of the liberty of the press ;
a decision worthy of Holt or Camden, and of the
best times of English freedom.

His opinion on constitutional law, will remain a

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 29

lasting monument to liis fame. No man understood
better than himself the complicated mechanism of our
federal system ; no one perceived with a clearer ken
the limits which separate the rights and powers of
the national and state authorities ; none ever defined
those rights with greater precision and accuracy, or
asserted them with greater firmness and impartiality.
He never would assume jurisdiction when it appeared
to him that the courts of the United States were exclu-
sively entitled to it, and on the other hand, he never
shrunk from the exercise of his own rights as a state
judge. Thus, in a well known case, he maintained
the doctrine, that a state court might interfere and
give relief, w hen a citizen was illegally deprived of
his liberty under colour of the federal authority.

In cases depending on international law, his vast
knowledge and erudition particularly shone. He
settled several important points, on questions of
conjlictus legiim ; a branch of the legal science not
yet sufficiently investigated, either in Europe or in
this country, and the principles of which still remain
to be fixed on that broad and liberal basis, which the
mutual convenience of nations seems to require.

The higher judicial offices in our country, are posts
of great distinction, and they owe it to their attendant
exertion and responsibility. They put in requisition
the noblest faculties of the mind, the finest properties
of the temper, and not unfrequently they task to the
utmost the vigour of an unbroken constitution. Very
few, if any, of their duties are mechanical. There

30 LIFE or

is no routine by which their business is performed
without the expenditure of thought. The cases
v/hich come before the Judges are new either in prin-
ciple or in circumstance ; and not seldom the facts
which ask for the application of different principles,
are in the same cause, nearly in equipoise. There
is consequently an interminable call upon the Judge
to compare, discriminate, weigh, adopt, reject, in fine
to bring into intense exercise his whole understanding.
Where the profession is candid and well instructed,
nothing that is obvious, and little that can be made
£o without deep consideration, is referred to the de-
cision of the Judges. For them the universal intel-
ligence of the world is at work to complicate the con-
tracts and the duties of men. For them are reserved
those Gordian knots, which, although others may cut,
tliey must at least appear to untie. Every judgment
is made under great responsibility to the science ; —
it must be a rule for the future, as well as for the past.
It is made under an equal responsibility to the par-
ties ; — the Judge is the defaulter, when through his
means the defaulter escapes. It is under a higher
responsibility to heaven ; — the malediction of an un-
just sentence is heavier upon liim that gives, than upon
him that receives it.

He who, through a large portion of the sliort life
©f man, properly sustains such an oJSBce, studying
all his causes with the intcnscness of personal inter-
est,— improving the science by adding daily con-
firmation to the defences of liberty, reputation and

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 31

property, — and at the last standing clear iu his great
account of justice impartially administered to the
poor and the rich, the guilty and the innocent, — he
that does this is entitled to the homage which man
ought to render to man, and may claim, but not till
then, to stand his reputation hj the side of the late
venerated Chief Justice.

From the time that he took his seat on the Bench
at March Term, 1806, for the space of more than
ten years, he delivered an opinion in every case but
five, the arguments in four of which he was prevented
from hearing by sickness, and in one by domestic
affliction ; and in more than two hundred and fifty
cases, he either pronounced the judgment of the
Court, or his brethren concurred in his opinion and
reasons without a comment.

His attention from the beginning to the end of the
twenty-one years that he presided in the Supreme
Court, was undeviatingly given to every case; and
he prepared himself for all that required considera-
tion at his chamber, by taking an accurate note of
the authorities cited by counsel, and of the principal
heads and illustrations of their argument.

This labour was not performed to accumulate the
evidences of his devotion to business, nor under sub-
jection to an inveterate habit. He was far above all
this. He did it under a sense of conscientious duty
to retain such minutes as would enable him to exam-
ine the authorities, and to review the observations of
counsel, after the illusion and perhaps the excite-

32 LIFE OF

meiit of the public discussion had gone by. The con-
tents of twenty volumes of reports, and upwards of
two tliousand judgments, most of them elaborate, all
of them sufficiently reasoned, very few upon matters
of practice, or on points of fugitive interest, attest
the devotion of his judicial life; and although it is
not meant to deprive of their share of the merit of
these labours, the eminent men who survive him on
the 35ench, and who remain to continue and I hope to
exalt the fame of our jurisprudence, 1 may say, and
they will cheerfully admit, that he was the presiding
spirit of their consultations, as he was of their court.
In addition to these strictly official duties, the Le-
gislature of Pennsylvania, committed to the Judges
of the Supreme Court, in the year 1807, the critical
duty of reporting the English statutes in force within
this commonwealth. The duty is called critical, for
so undoubtedly it was considered by the Chief Jus-
tice. The service exacted an unlimited knowledge
of our colonial legislation, and of the practice and
administration of the law in the Province, though a
period of nearly a century, in which there was not
the light of a reported case. It required also an in-
timate familiarity with the written law of England,
its history both political and legal, and a knowledge
of the impressions which it had given to and received
from the common law, during the course of many
centuries. The selection moreover was to be made
in the chambers of the Judges, without the aid of
that best of all devices for eliciting the truth, an ar-\

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 33

dent, free, and ingenuous discussion by counsel* 1
need not inform the professional reader, that the task
was Herculean. In the course however of less than
two years, it was performed ; and the profession and
the public are indebted to it for an invaluable stand-
ard of reference in a province of the law, before that
time without path or guide. It is not perfect. It has
not the obligation of judicial authority. 1 speak the
sentiments of its principal author. Some statutes are
perhaps omitted. Still the original work will remain
as a monument to those by whom it was erected, and
who may now be said to rest beneath it. If it shall
increase at all, it will be by the contributions which
the hand of respect and affection shall bring to swell
the tribute to the venerable dead.

The labours thus recited, in audition to what is
known to have been performed at Nisi Frius, and in
circuits through the state, entitle this eminent Judge
to the praise of great industry, a virtue which it is
an offence against morality to call humble, in one who
is the keeper both of his own talent, and not seldom
of that, of others also. It was, however, industry of
the highest order — a constant action of the intellect
practically applied.

But the character of his mind as it shines forth in
his iudsiments, is a subiect of much livelier interest.

The first great property which they disclose, is his
veneration of the law, and above all, of the funda-
mental Common Law. There is not a line from his
pen, that trifles with the sacred deposit in his hands,

34

LIFE OF

by claiming to fashion it according to a private opin-
ion of what it ought to be. Judicial legislation he
abhorred, I should rather say, dreaded, as an impli-
cation of his conscience. His first inquiry in every
case was of the oracles of the law for their response;
and when he obtained it, notwithstanding his clear
perception of the justice of the cause, and his intense
desire to reach it, if it was not the justice of the law,
he dared not to administer it. He acted upon the
sentiment of Lord Bacon, that it is the foulest injus-
tice to remove land-marks, and that to corrupt the
law, is to poison the very fountain of justice. With
a consciousness that to the errors of the science there
are some limits, but none to the evils of a licentious
invasion of it, he left it to our annual legislatures to
correct such defects in the system, as time either
created or -exposed: and better foundation in the law
can no man lay.

Those who study his opinions, while they may re-
mark that he was unusually sparing of references to
authority, will find that it was the result of selection
and not of penury. He was not, however, what is
sometimes termed a great case-lawyer. His memory
did not appear to be tenacious of insulated decisions;
nor is it usual for men of philosophical minds, who
arrange the learning of their profession by the aid of
general principles, to be distinguished by their recol-
lection of particular facts. With the leading cases
under every head, those which may be called the
light-houses of the law, he was familiar, and knew

WILLIAM TILGHMAN, 35

their bearings upon every passage into this deeply
indented territory; but for the minor points, the
soundings that are marked so profusely upon modern
charts of the law, he trusted too much to the length and
employment of his own line, to oppress his memory
•with them. It was not his practice to bring into his
judgments, an historical account of the legal doctrine
on which they turned, nor to illustrate them by fre-
quent references to other codes, to which, neverthe-
less, he was perfectly competent by the variety as well
as by the extent of his studies. His preference was
rather to deduce the sentence he v/as about to pro-
nounce, as a logical consequence from some proposition
of law which he had previously stated and settled
with great brevity. Ko Judge was ever more free
both in mind and style from every thing like technical-
ity. He never assigned a technical reason for any
thing, if another were at command, or if not, without
sustaining the artificial reason by an explanation of its
grounds. At the same time his knowledge embraced
all the refinements of the lav/, and he took an obvious
satisfaction in showing their connection with substan-
tial justice.

His judgments are further distinguished by perspi-
cuity, precision, and singleness.

No careful reader was ever at a loss for the meaning
of the Chief Justice, and his whole meaning. His lan-
guage is transparent ; you see through it, instantly, the
purpose of the writer. There is no involution, no pa-
renthesis, no complication. Every thing is direct,

36 LIFE OF

natural, and explicit. His style without being dry,
and possessing upon proper occasions such embellish-
ments even, as a severe and critical taste would per-
mit, is made up, in general, of terms and phrases so
entirely ascertained in their meaning, as to defy the
extraction of a double sense, an excellence of the very
first order in judicial compositions. This precision,
was the result of an accurate adjustment of the argu-
ment before he committed it to paper. His opinions,
such as they appear in the earliest reports of them,
and 1 presume the same of the whole, were published
from the first draught, in which it was rare to find
either erasure or interlineation ; and it is confidently
stated by one of the eldest members of the bar, that
there was no instance in which he was asked by
counsel, or induced by his own review, to give an ex-
planation of them. This was, indeed, a natural con-
sequence of that singleness, to which 1 have alluded
as a striking feature of his judgments. He paid little
respect to what are called dicta^ opinions collateral to
the matter in judgment, from whatever quarter they
might come. He pronounced none himself. His
concern was with the point in issue, and nothing
else ; and he kept his eye on that, as a mariner does
upon the Pole-star.

All his opinions arc, moreover, remarkable for their
admirable common sense, and their adaptation to the
common understanding. There is no reaching after
what is recondite, or abstruse, — no afi'ectation of sci-
ence. The language of the law, as he uses it, is ver-

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 37

nacular, and his arguments are the most simple that
the case will bear. They are not an intricate web,
in which filaments separately weak obtain strength
by their union, but a chain, whose firmness arises
from the solidity of its links, and not from the artifice
of their connexion.

But that quality which exalts his judgments the
most in the estimation of the public, is the ardent love
of justice which runs through them all. His appetite
for it was keen and constant; and nothing could rouse
his kind and courteous temper into resentment, more
than a deliberate efTort to entangle justice in the
meshes of chicane. The law was his master ; lie
yielded implicit obedience to its behests. Justice was
the object of his affections ; he defended her with the
devotion of a lover. It is the high praise of his ad-
ministration, and of the profession too, that the occa-
sions were rare in which his efforts did not bring them
into harmonious co-operation.

Is it not worthy of remark, that judgments such as
these, which enjoyed universal respect, were never-
theless, free from every thing like pretension? Chief
Justice Tilghman could have done as much with the
Bar of Pennsylvania, by the force of his authority, as
any Judge that ever sat in his seat. His investigations
were known to be so faithful, his reasonings so just,
and his convictions so impartial, that there would have
been a ready acceptance of his conclusions, without
a knowledge of the steps which led to them. He asked
however, for submission to no autliority, so rarely as

38 LIFK O^

to his own. You may search his opiaions in vain,
for any thing like personal assertion. He never threw
the weight of his office into the scale, which the
"weight of his argument did not turn, lie spoke and
wrote as the minister of reason, claiming obedience to
her, and selecting with scrupulous modesty such lan-
guage, as while it sustained the dignity of his office,
kept down from the relief, in which he might well
have appeared, the individual who filled it. Look
over the judgments of more than twenty years, many
of them rendered by this excellent magistrate after
his title to unlimited deference was established by a
riglit more divine than that of Kings, — there is not to
be found one arrogant, one supercilious expression,
turned against the opinions of other judges, one vain
glorious regard toward himself. He does not write
as if it occurred to him, that his writings would be
examined to fix his measure, when compared with the
standard of great men, but as if their exclusive use
was to assist in fixing a standard of the law.

It is to all these qualities that Chief Justice Tilgh-
man owed the confidence of his brethren on the
Bench. It does not appear that his opinion at Nisi
Prius or on the Circuit was ever over-ruled, nor that
his judgment in Bank was made ineffectual by a ma-
jority of the Court, except in a single instance ; and
it will not be deemed offensive to say, that when the
same question shall recur, it will probably be con-
sidered without any decisive influence from this un-
supported case.

WILLIAM TILGIIMAN. S9

If the common law were a science, in which the
mind of a Judge might speculate without impediment,
as in some others, it would be natural to ask, what
new priuciples he has added to the code, or what new
combinations he has made to increase its vigour. It
is such an inquiry that imparts interest to the biogra-
phical notices of men, who have been eminent in
Physics, in the higher branches of the Mathematics,
and emphatically of such as have been distinguished
actors in the formation of political Constitutions, or
of new codes of law. There is a freedom and ex-
pansiveuess in some parts of Science, that even ima-
gination may be invited to attend upon genius as it
explores them; and the Legislator especially, or the
founder of new governments, is so little restrained
in his movements, that the personal character of the
individual becomes the pervading soul of the work,
and looks out from every part of it. But the law as a
practical science, depends mainly for its value, upon
retaining the same shape and nearly the same dimen-
sions from day to day. A speculative, inventive ima-
ginative Judge is a paradox. No one can reasonably
ask what a Judge has invented or devised, or even
discovered. His duty and his praise are in the faithful
administration of a system created to his hands ; a
system of principles, the just development of which
affords sufficient scope for genius, without destroying
what is established, or innovating in tlie spirit of a
law giver. If ever his labours approach the merit
of discovery, it is when he reforms or brings to light

40

LIFE OF

what had a previous existence, but had been per-
verted or obscured.

In some particulars of great interest to the profes-
sion, the late Chief Justice had the merit of relieving:
our code from perversion and obscurity of this des-
cription. He has certainly reinstated a statute of in-
dispensable use, and which was imperceptibly giving
way to judicial legislation here, as it has thoroughly
done in England, the Statute of Limitations in ac-
tions of assumpsit. On this subject he distinctly led
the way in Pennsylvania; and in every particular in
which he was not restrained by authority, he has
brought our Courts back to the true interpretation.
He has, as it were, reclaimed this resting place for
the unfortunate, from an irruption of the ocean.

He led the way also, and has resolutely persever-
ed, in opening the large rivers of this Commonwealth;
to the great work of public improvement, by rejecting
the inapplicable definitions of the English common
law, which would have subjected them to the claim
of the riparian owners.

He has followed up that work which his father is
said to have begun, by giving the force of his mind
and influence to the establishment of such rules, as
make the Land Office system harmonize with every
other part of our code.

But his great work, that at which he laboured with
constant solicitude, but with scarcely a passing hint
that he was engaged in it, is the thorough incorpora-
tion of the principles of scientific equity, with the

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 41

law of Pennsylvania, or rather the reiterated recog-
nition by the Bench, that with few exceptions they
form an inseparable part of that law.

The distinction between law and equity is well un-
derstood by the Profession, but difficult to explain to
popular apprehension. It is a great but prevalent
mistake, to suppose that a Court of Equity is the re-
proach of the common law, whereas it is its praise;
at least the praise of its illustrious origin. The Com-
mon Law, being originally the law of freemen, of
that Saxon stock from which is derived the freest
race upon earth, left nothing to the discretion of the
Judge or the Monarch. It was itself the great arbi-
ter, and ruled every question by principles of great
certainty and general application. In its earliest day,
a day of comparative simplicity, its general principles
and forms embraced and adjusted almost every trans-
action: and when they did not, the authority of the
Common Law Courts was legitimately extended by
new writs devised in the then incipient Chancery.
The refinements of later times, the invention of uses,
and afterwards of trusts, the complications of trade,
the defects incident to the multiplied operations of
men, all tended to produce controversies which the
Judges of the Common Law could not, consistently
with their integrity and the integrity of their rules,
adjust with perfect effect ; and hence the development
of the Court of Chancery. It is a great misconcep-
tion of that Court, to suppose that it overturns the
Common Law. Equity is a part of the Common

42 LIFE OF

Law ; and a Court of Chancery is the homage paid
by a free Constitution to the integrity of the Courts
of Common Law. It is the handmaid of those Courts.
It restrains dishonest men from applying the general
rules of those tribunals to cases which they ought not
to embrace, — it extends to the upright the benefit of a
rule of those Courts, of which a defect in circum-
stance deprived them,— and it attains its purposes by
a process, between parties, and through a method of
relief almost necessarily difiTerent from those of the
Courts of Common Law, but in perfect analogy with
what the rules of those Courts effect \vhere they pro-
perly apply. It is no more the reproach of the Com-
mon Law, that it has a department of Equity, than
that it has a department of Admiralty Law, or of
Ecclesiastical Law. There is no more reason why
the original constitution of the Courts of Common
Law siiould be destroyed, by blending with their
principles and practice, the rules of a Court of Chan-
cery, than by uniting with them the rules of the Ad-
miralty. It is a question of having two Courts to
execute different parts of the same system, instead of
one ; and the experience of England, and of most of
these States, is better than volumes, to show, that the
purity and vigour of both law and equity, are main-
tained by preventing their intercourse in the same tri-
bunal. That their separation is unfriendly to the
people, is refuted by the great examples of Maryland,
Virginia, and New York, and by the example of all
the States in tlieir Federal capacity.

WILLIAM TILUHMAN. 43

It is the misfortune of Pennsylvania that the want
of a Court of Chancery has left her tribunals no al-
ternative but that of attempting this difficult incorpo-
ration. Her Chancery history is short and striking.

There was no such Court among the institutions of
"William Penn, or of his day. That this was the con-
sequence of a jealousy of the principles and practice of
that Court entertained by the people, is not indicated
by their early juridical history. It was more proba-
bly owing to a question connected with tlie introduc-
tion of the Court, and under the influence of which
it met an early fate, — in whom, according to the con-
stitutional law of that day, the office of Chancellor
ought to vest, and whether it could be legally exe-
cuted except by one, who under the great seal of
England, acted as tlie king's representative. The
prerogative lawyers of the colony held the negative
of that question ; yet the alleged necessity for the
Court was such, and such the attacliment to both its
forms and principles, that the Legislature, by a mere
resolution, requested Sir William Kieth, to hold a
Court of Chancery, and it was accordingly opened un-
der the proclamation of that Governor, in August,
1720. During the rule of a less popular Governor in
1736, the organization of the Court v/as denounced
by the Assembly as a violation of the Charter of Pri-
vileges, and at the same session a Bill was sent up
for the approbation of Governor Gordon, establishing
Superior and Inferior Courts of Equity in the ordi-
nary way. The prerogative objection recuiTed, it

44 LIFE OF

became a party question, the Bill was not approved.
Chancery powers were no further exercised, and
Pennsylvania lost the system, because her Governors
and representatives could not agree by whom the
office of Chancellor should be held.

It may be supposed that the circles of this party
feud grew larger as they advanced, and that they
finally encompassed the Court itself. Such probably
was the case at the commencement of the revolution.
Scientific Equity fell under general proscription, and
with some few exceptions was made to give place to a
spurious equity, compounded of the temper of the
judge, and the feelings of the jury, with nothing but
a strong infusion of integrity, to prevent it from be-
coming as much the bane of personal security, as it
was the bane of science.

It was to expel this usurper, that the days and
nights of Chief Justice Tilghman were devoted, — a
work suggested it is true by that distinguished prede-
cessor to whom he owed his office, but consummated
by himself and his colleagues, to whom v/e owe a
debt not to be acquitted, for having fully established
the principles of methodized and scientific equity in
their just sway, as a part of the common law of the
land.

He achieved this work, at the same time, without
the slightest innovation upon legal forms, upholding
them on the contrary as the only instruments for the
administration of equity, except where the Legisla-
ture otherwise directs. No one ever knew him usurp

WILLIAM TILGIIMAX. 45

a power of any kind, still less a power of Chancery,
of which, his very aflfectioii for the system seemed to
make him apprehensive. He has expressed the opin-
ion, that the Legislature would, at no distant day,
find it expedient to provide for Trusts, as well as for
other subjects of Chancery jurisdiction ; but, in the
mean time, he has taught us liow to clothe a large body
of equity principles in the drapery of the law. In
those cases, in which Equity consists in the very me-
thods of her administration, the Chief Justice looked
for final relief from the representatives of the people ;
and he waited patiently, and was content that they
should wait the instruction of time. Is the hope
vain, that the opinion of this pure and enlightened
Judge, may be received instead of that instruction?

Let it not be supposed, however, because lie was
deeply imbued with the principles of Equity, that he
was therefore latitudinarian. His Equity was as
scientific as his Law. It was the Equity of the
Hardwickes, the Thurlows. and the Eldons of En-
gland, of the Marshalls, the Washingtous, the Kil-
tys, and the Kents of the United States ; — an equity
without discretion, fixed as the principles of the Com-
mon Law, and like it, worthy of the freemen of whose
fortunes it disposes.

It is in the points already noticed, without referring
to a mass of invaluable adjudications on particular
questions of law, that the late Chief Justice has made
an impression upon the science in this commonwealth.
His influence upon it, cannot be forgotten. He will

46 LIFE OF

not be remembered merely as aa upright and able
Judge, who has maintaiued the dignity of his profes-
sion and office, but as one who has stamped his pe-
culiar principles and modes of thought upon the code,
and who has imparted to it as much of the philosophi-
cal cast of his own mind, as could with safety be car-
ried into a science, that is as well a science of authority,
as it is of principles.

In the department of Penal law he was relieved by
his office from frequent labours, although he annually
presided in a Court of Oyer and Terminer for Phila-
delphia county. His knowledge of this branch of
the law was extensive and accurate; his judgment in
it, as in every other, was admirable. His own ex-
emption from moral infirmity, might be supposed to
have made him severe in his reckonings with the
guilty; but it is the quality of rninds as pure as his,
to look with compassion upon those who have fallen
from virtue. He could not but pronounce the sentence
of the law upon such as were condemned to hear
it; but the calmness, the dignity, the impartiality,
with which he ordered their trials, the deep attention
which he gave to such as involved life, and the touch-
ing manner of his last office to the convicted, demon-
strated his sense of the peculiar responsibility, which
belonged to this part of his functions. In civil con-
troversies, such excepted, as by some feature of injus-
tice demanded a notice of the parties, he reduced the
issue pretty much to an abstract form, and solved it
as if it had been an Algebraic problem. But in cri-

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 47

miiial cases, there wa§ a constant reference to the
wretched persons whose fate was suspended before
him ; and in the very celerity with which he endea-
voured to dispose of the accusation, he evinced his
sympathy. It was his invariable effort, without re-
gard to his own health, to finish a capital case at
one sitting, if any portion of the night would suffice
for the object ; and one of his declared motives was
to terminate, as soon as possible, that harrowing so-
licitude, worse even than the worst certainty, which
a protracted trial brings to the unhappy prisoner.
He never pronounced the sentence of death without
severe pain ; in the first instance it was the occasion
of anguish. In this, as in many other points, he bore
a strong resemblance to Sir Matthew Hale. His aw-
ful reverence of the great Judge of all mankind, and
the humility with wliich he habitually walked in that
presence, made him uplift the svv^ord of justice, as if
it scarcely belonged to man, himself a suppliant, to
let it fall on the neck of his fellow man.

In Mr. Tilghman it is unquestionably true, that
these properties of a great Judge, were adorned by man-
ners, the combined effect of a benevolent heart, and
of a fine education, which made his intercourse with
the Bar, and theirs with him, an unbroken circle of
affection and respect. The practice of the law is not
without its trials to a Judge of the happiest temper.
The efficiency of the advocate, in some causes, depends
upon his giving the rein to his ardour, and in moving
with a velocity which kindles others as well as him-

48 LIFE OF

self. These rapid movements are uufrieudly to a nice
selection of phrases, and to that deference to the op-
posing sentiments of the Court, which the due order
of a judicial tribunal demands. It argues little against
the Judge or the advocate, that in cases like these,
there should be momentary lapses of the temper. But
"whose memory is so unfaithful as to record one such
incident in the judicial life of Chief Justice Tilghman?
He knew the respect of the Bar for him to be so cor-
dial, that he never suspected ofi'euce ; and they knew
his integrity and fidelity to the law to be such, that
they never placed his judgment on any occasion, to
the account of prejudice, partiality, or impulse. The
reign of sound law and impartial justice in the Su-
preme Court of the State, has therefore been the
reign of courtesy and kindly feelings between the
Bench and the Bar ; and though dead, he will conti-
nue to speak as if living, in favour of this natural and
deli2:htful union.

Upon the whole, his character as a Judge, was a
combination of some of the finest elements that have
been united in that office. Among those which may
be regarded as primary or fundamental, were a reve-
rential love of the Common Law, and a fervent zeal
for justice, as the end and intended fruit of all law.
The former was enliglitened by laborious study in
early life, tlie latter was purified like the constitution
of his whole mind, by a ceaseless endeavonr to ascer-
tain the truth. In the service of these exalted affec-
tions, he never fanltercd. His effort in every cause

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 49

was lo satisfy thein both ; and by attention to the re-
searches of others, patient inquiry for himself, and a
judgment singularly free from disturbance of every
mind, lie rarely failed to attain his object. Other
Judges may have had more learning at immediate
command, — none have had their learning under better
discipline, or in a condition more eifective for the
duty on which it was employed. His mind did not
flow through his opinions in a stream of exuberant
richness, but its current was transparently clear, and
its depth was never less than the subject required,
however profound. He was moreover equal to all the
exigencies of his office, and many of them were great,
without any such exertion as appeared to disturb the
harmony, or even the repose, of his faculties ; and he
has finally laid down his great charge, with the praise
of being second to none who have preceded him in it,
and of leaving his countrymen without the expecta-
tion or the desire of seeing him surpassed by those
who shall follow him.

The judicial faculties and virtues which are
here described, could never have been the com-
panions of disorder in the mind, the affections,
or the life of the individual. Lord Coke has made
to the aspiring student of the Law, this striking
appeal, too flattering perhaps, except while the
venerable portrait of the late Chief Justice is still
before us : " Cast thine eye upon the sages of the law
'•that have been before thee, and never shalt thou
"find any one that hath excelled in the knowledge

50 LIFE OF

*< of these laws, but hath drawn from that divine
<^ knowledge, gravity, and integrity.'^ He pronounces
this knowledge to be irreconcilable with a loose and
lawless life, and gives the result of his large experi-
ence, that he had never seen any man of excellent
judgment in the Common Law of England, <^^ but was
withal, being taught by such a master, honest, faith-
ful, and virtuous.'' The Chief Justice was not only
thoroughly taught by this master, but he came into
the school accomplished inelegant learning ; and long
before he left it, there was associated the training of
another school, worthier far than the Common Law,
of the exalted eulogy of Sir Edward Coke.

His early education, it has been remarked, was
excellent. He was an accomplished Latin scholar,
but, to his own regret, had suffered his Greek to fall
away by desuetude. The literature of the former
language, lie kept constantly fresh in his mind. His
memory was stored with beautiful Latin, which he has
been heard to repeat as it were to himself, when the
occasion recalled it, and his modesty did not care to
pronounce it aloud. On all his Circuits and journies
into the districts of the Supreme Court, his compan-
ions were the Bible, a Latin author, and some recent
treatise of distinction in the law. L^pon the last that
he ever made, he refreshed his recollections of the
Pharsalia. It is perhaps no itllc fancy to suppose
that he may have then read, with almost a person-
al application, the prophetic appeal of the Spectre to
the race of Pompey :

WILLIAM TILGIIMAN. 51

veniet qure mlsceat omnes

Hpra duces. Properate mori

Sucli a name and such an example, are of great
efficacy in the inquiry concerning tlie fittest basis of
liberal educa(ion. All the faculties of his mind were
thorougldy developed, — he accumulated large stores
of knowledge, — he brought them into daily use, — he
reasoned accurately, — he conversed elegantly, — his
taste was refined, — the pleasures which it brought to
him were pure, — his imagination was re[dete with the
beautiful forms of ancient poetry, — he was adequate
to the functions of one of the most exalted offices, —
he knew little of the natural sciences, — and his edu-
cation was such as has been described. It would be
unjust to him, however, to say that he undervalued
knowledge of any kind, and least of all that know-
ledge which is opening every day to the world, and
to this part of the world especially, new sources of
wealth, and new proofs of the wisdom and benificence
of Ueity. On the contrary, with that diffusive liber-
ality for which he was conspicuous, he gave his coun-
sel and his money to every plan for increasing this
species of knowledge ; but it cannot be asserted of
him, that he recommended it in any of its branches,
as an instrument fur unfolding the faculties of youth.
He regarded these sciences as treasure for accumula-
tion, after education had performed its office. For
the great work of training the minds of young men to
liberal pursuits, and to the learned professions, his

52

LIFE OF

opinion was ancliored upon the system, by which he
Lad been reared himself, — the system of the Ameri-
can Colleges.

While the Chief Justice continued his intercourse
with the learned ancients, he found leisure in the in-
tervals of office, for the literature of his own lan-
guage, in which he was extensively versed, and for
which he possessed the keenest relish ; and it is to
these two sources that he owed the purity of his style,
where nothing coarse or vwlgar ever appeared, and
which without being affected or elaborate, was re-
markable for the absence of all words of questionable
authority.

In politics, he was a warm patriot, and a friend to
civil and religious liberty. But he never mixed in
party intrigues, and never learned to hate men for
being of a different opinion from his own. When
great and important questions arose, which involved
the fate and the happiness of his country, he took a
decided part, and his talents and influence were de-
voted to the support of the opinion that he had es-
poused. It is well known that he was a zealous
friend to the adoption of our present happy constitu-
tion, and that he promoted it by his exertions in the
Maryland Legislature. It is known also that through
life he was sincerely attached to its principles, and
considered the union of the States as the bulwark of
our future happiness. He was a warm admirer of
Washington, who, on his part, entertained a high

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 53

opinion of his character, and honoured him with his
familiar correspondence.

His politics, indeed, were of that enlarged cast,
which accorded very little with party feelings. He
viewed the interest of his country on the most ex-
tended scale. He looked forward to posterity, and
Was not contented with raising a tottering edifice for
the present generation. Agriculture and manufactures
he considered as the most solid foundations of our
national prosperity. Commerce he did not under-
value, hut it would he sure to follow and prosper in
their train.

Consistently with these principles, he was a zea-
lous and active member of the Philadelphia Society
for promoting Agriculture. In the year IS 14, he
was elected their vice-president, in the place of the pat-
riotic George Clymer, and continued in that office to
the time of his death. While residing on his father's
farm in Maryland, he had become familiar with the
subject of their investigations. The discourse which
he delivered before them on the 18th of January,
1820, is replete with practical as well as theoretical
knowledge. It abounds with interesting facts, and
displays at the same time the talents and eloquence
of the writer. fSee AjjpenduVf B.J

He was the president of the Society for the encou-
ragement of American manufactures, and there he
may be said to have been pursuing one of the objects
nearest his heart. He thought that America never
eould be independent without manufactures. We

54 LIFE OF

might as well have remained colonies to Great Britain
as not to manufacture for ourselves ; for the prohibi-
tion of those arts was the basis of the English colo-
nial system. Indeed, he carried this feeling to that
degree of enthusiasm, that for ten years before his
death he would not wear any article that was not ma-
nufactured in this country. He had once the satis-
faction to make an importer of British goods, strong-
ly prejudiced in favour of his merchandise, acknow-
ledge that a piece of superfine American cloth which
he showed him was better dyed than the best English
cloth of the same quality. How he triumphed oa
that occasion, his friends to whom he was fond of re-
lating the circumstance, may well remember.

How he patronized the arts and sciences, and eve-
ry species of American improvement, I need not re-
late, for each institution in their turn looked up to
him as a patron. But those were not confined to the
bosom of one Society, they displayed themselves in
every scientific and literary institution to which he be-
longed, and those were numerous. Of the Academy
of ^Natural Sciences, and that of the Fine Arts, he
was a valued associate. He was distinguished as
one of the Board of Trustees of the University of
Pennsylvania, over whose deliberations he and a
venerable member of the Philosophical Society, now
living, were generally called upon to preside. The
Philadelphia Athenieum, founded in 1814, and now
so fiourishing, chose him for their president. He
presided in like manner over the Society which was

WILLIAM TILGIIMAN. 55

incorporated in 1821, for establishing the Law Aca-
demy of Philadelphia, to whose success he main-
ly contributed. And that Academy will ever revere
the memory of their illustrious patron.

I need not enumerate the religious, charitable, and
benevolent associations of which he was an efficient
member. In most of those Societies he held a dis-
tinguished rank ; for his fellow-citizens delighted to
honour him. Nor were the tributes of respect he re-
ceived, confined to this city or to this State. In the
year 1814, Harvard University, that ancient and ce-
lebrated institution, which is known not to be lavish
of its honours, conferred upon him, unsolicited, the
degree of Doctor of Laws ; he was also elected a
member of the American Academy of Arts and Sci-
ences. Those distinctions, though unsouglit, must
have been grateful to him, from a city which rivals
Philadelphia, in her zeal for the promotion of know-
ledge. Of his attachment to science, and in particu-
lar to the Philosophical Society of Pennsylvania, he
gave a proof in the last solemn act of his life. By his
last "Will and Testament, he left a legacy of two hun-
dred dollars, to this Society; and a like one to the
Athenaeum of Philadelphia.

Those who knew Dr. Wistarand Judge Tilghmaa
while they both lived, cannot but have observed that
similarity of disposition and feelings which produced
the warm and intimate friendship that subsisted be-
tween them. The same expansive philanthropy,
the same love of truth, the same constancy in tlieir

56 LIFE OF

attachments, the same solidity in their friendships^
Alike modest and diffident, each admired in the other
those virtues, which in himself be considered as of
ordinary value. The hearts of those two excellent
men were cast in the same mould, and a true picture
of the one is a faithful delineation of the other.

Judge Tilghman was born with warm passions;
but he had learned early to subdue them ; the suc-
cessful efforts which he made, joined to his excessive
modesty and diffidence, gave to his first appearance
an air of coldness and reserve, which might be mista-
ken for pride or a want of the kinder feelings : but
this soon disappeared on a nearer acquaintance : yet
he preserved always in his person and manners that
proper dignity which checks undue familiarity, while
it puts no obstacle to decent hilarity, or to the warmest
effusion of confidence and friendship among those
who know how to respect themselves and each other.

The genuine warmth of his heart found its noblest
channel in acts of charity and benevolence. His ac-
counts show more than seventeen thousand dolhirs,
expended by him in a few years, in charitable dona-
tions, and accommodations of mere kindness. His
contributions to objects of public utility, form a large
item in the list of his expenses. Yet he was not ricli;
the property lie left behiLid him is far from considera-
ble; but his prudent economy, and the great order
and method with which he managed his private affairs,
enabled him to live as became his station, and to give

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 67

full scope to his kind feelings, by generous and cha-
ritable acts.

He was punctual to his engagements ; when he
had made an appointment, he never failed to attend
at the precise moment. In the Court over which he
presided, business was never delayed on account of
his absence, for he was always ready at his post.
Even a very few days previous to his last illness,
when the signs of approaching dissolution might be
traced on his countenance, he attended to his duty as
long as his strength permitted him. On one of those
days, before the Court was opened, being asked by
a friend how he was, he looked steadily in his face,
and answered, ^^1 have not long to live.'' A few
weeks afterwards he was no more.

He loved justice and equity for their own sakes.
What in others is a virtue, was in him a feeling and
a natural propensity. His strict adherence to truth,
his abhorrence of falsehood, his unshaken integrity,
were known to every one, and from his earliest youth
stood among the most prominent traits of his charac-
ter. In Maryland he was called the honest lawyer,
and while in the legislature of that State, this quality,
and the well known soundness of his judgment pro-
cured him an unbounded influence. A member once
entered the house while an important question was
taking. Somebody tried to explain it to him. ^^ It
is no matter,'*' answered he, "which side did Mr.
Tilghman support? With him I am sure to be right."
While he was Chief Justice, he understood that a

8

58 LIFE OF

case was to he submitted to his decision, in which
the Bank of the United States was concerned. He
immediately sold a share which he field in the stock
of that institution, lest, unknown to himself, his mind
should be in the least biassed. He was so much on
his guard aj^ainst his private affections, that his
friends used to say, that his enemies had the better
chance of a favourable judgment. The truth is,
that he considered neither friends nor enemies; jus-
tice in liis judgments was the single object that he had
in view.

His moral qualities were of the highest order. It
lias been said, that the panegyrists of great men can
rarely direct the eye with safety to their early years,
for fear of lighting upon the traces of some irregular
passion. But to the late Chief J ustice may be applied,
the praise of the Chancellor D'Aguesseau, that he
was never known to take a single step out of the nar-
Yow path of wisdom ; and that although it was some-
times remarked that he had been young, it was for
the purpose not of palliating a defect, but of doing
greater honour to his virtues. Of his early life, few
of his cotemporaries remain to speak ; but those few
attest, what the harmony of his whole character in
later years would infer, that his youth gave presage
by its sobriety and exemplary rectitude, of all that
we witnessed and admired in the maturity of his cha-
racter. It is great praise to say of so excellent a
Judge, that there was no contrariety between his
judgments and his life, — that there was a perfect con-

WILLIAM TILCiHMAN'. 59

gent between his public aud his private manners, —
that he was an engaging example of all he taught, —
and that no reproacli which, in his multifarious em-
ployment, he was compelled to utter against all the
forms of injustice, public and private, social and do-
mestic,— against all violations of law, from crime
down to those irregularities at which, from general
infirmity, there is a general connivance, — in no in-
stance, did the sting of his reproach wound his own
bosom. Yet it was in his life only, and not in his pre-
tensions, that you discerned this his fortunate superi-
ority to others. In his private walk she was the most
unpretending of men. He bore constantly about him
those characteristics of true greatness, simplicity, and
modesty. Shall 1 add, that the memory of all his
acquaintance may be challenged to repeat from his
most unrestrained conversation, one word or allusion,
that might not have fallen with propriety upon the
ear of the most fastidious delicacy.

His manners in society, w^ere unusually attractive
to those wdio were so fortunate as to possess his es-
teem ; and they Avere the reverse to none, except
those who had given him cause to withliold it. Their
great charm was sincerity, and though unassumiug
and retired; they never failed to show the impress of
that refinement in v/hich he had passed his life.

The kindness of his nature appcai^'d in the inter-
course that he maintained with his fellow citizens,
notwithstanding the claims of his station. He pro-
bably entertained Mr. iJurke's opinion, that us it is

60 LIFE or

public justice that holds the community together, the
Judges ought to he of a reserved and retired charac-
ter, und wholly unconnected with the iiolitical world.
He certainly acted up to all that the sentiment as-
serts ; and he found the benefit of it, the community
did also, iu a ready submission to those judgments,
more than one, in which a suspected infusion of party
would have been a disturbing ingredient. No one
who knew him in private life, had however any rea-
son to doubt his opinions, when the occasion fitly
called for their expression. Not deeming it discreet
to meet his fellow citizens in those assemblies where
either politics or their kindred subjects were to be
discussed, he seized with the more avidity, such oc-
casions of intercourse, as were presented by meetings
for public improvement, for philosophical inquiry, or
the cultivation of literature ; and in particular he at-
tended with great interest to the concerns of the
American Philosophical Society, of which as 1 have
mentioned before, he was chosen President, on the
death of Dr. Patterson, in the year 1824, and to those
also of the Athenaeum, of which he was the first, and
during his life the only President ; — the Trustees of
the University of Pennsylvania rarely missed him
from his seat, or the United Episcopal Churches, of
Philadelphia, from their Yestry, as the Warden of
his venerable friend and pastor Bishop White. It was
in this way that he diminished the distance to which
his office removed him from society ; keeping however
a constant eye upon that office, even when he moved

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 61

out of its orbit, and taking scrupulous care, that no
external contact should be of a nature to disturb his
movements when he returned to it.

It was upon an occasion when a very delicate
question agitated the country, that he mentioned to a
friend a transaction in his life, which, although in a
certain sense public in its character, is even at this
time not extensively known. His reason for advert-
ing to it, illustrates in a striking manner his deference
to the demands of his station ; while the passage in
his life to which it refers, discloses his sentiments
upon the embarrasing question of negro slavery ; a
question however upon which, in some of its practical
bearings, he thought it an act of infinite rashness to
judge other men, and in regard to which he almost
concealed his own decided proceeding, lest it should
appear to reproach the judgment of his kinsmen and
friends.

Having been asked to take part in a public meeting
in the City of Philadelphia, upon what has been called
the Missouri question, he thought it expedient to de-
cline. <<My office,'^ he said, "compels me often to de-
cide upon this irritating question of slavery ; and it is
not expedient to take part in a public discussion, that
might bring my impartiality into doubt. No one who
knows the arrangement that I have made with the
slaves which belonged to me, will doubt my fervent
wish to see the evils of this institution mitigated, and,
if possible, extinguished.'' The arrangement was an
instrument executed on the 24th of April, 1811, by

62 LIFE OF

which he emancipated four of his slaves immediately,
nine others in successive periods of from three to seven
years, and the residue, twenty-five in number, toge-
ther with their issue, on the first day of January after
they should respectively attain the age of twenty-eight
years. There was but one prescribed impediment to
this emancipation, — unlawful absence from duty, wil-
fully or by imprisonment for crime ; in which case
the party's freedom was deferred for treble the term
of his absence, 'i'he benevolent proprietor lived to
see this emancipation attained by twenty, and he has
secured its benefit to those that remain. He has secu-
red it in the best way, by making it the reward of
fidelity and virtue, and by so regulating it both as to
time and numbers, as to give its objects the best
chance of establishment in the community.

The temper of the Chief Justice was singularly pla-
cable and benevolent. It was not in his power to re-
member an injury. A few days before his death, he
said to two of his friends, attendant upon that scene,
^^ 1 am at peace with all the world. 1 bear no ill-will
^^ to any human being ; and there is no person in ex-
*' istence, to whom 1 would not do good, and render a
" service, if it were in ray power. No man can be
^^ happy who does not forgive injuries which he may
" have received from his fellow creatures." How
suitable was this noble conclusion to his exemplary
life! What a grace did this spirit impart to his own
supplications! 'J^'his was not a counterfeit virtue, as-
sumed when the power to retaliate was wasted by dis-

WILLIAM TILGIIMAN. 63

Jiase. It was not the mere overflow of a kindly na-
ture, unschooled by that divine science which teach-
es benevolence as a duty. It was the virtue of one,
who, in his Eulogium upon his eminent friend Dr.
Wistar, fSee Jlpyendix, A>J who had filled the
chair of the Philosophical Society, thus made known
the foundation on which his benevolence was built.
^^ Vain is the splendour of genius without the virtues
^« of the heart. No man who is not good, deserves
^^ the name of wise. In the language of Scripture,
"folly and wickedness are the same; not only be-
<^ cause vicious habits do really corrupt and darken
*^ the understanding, but because it is no small de-
^'gree of folly to be ignorant, that the chief good of
<<man is to know the will of his creator, and to do
*^it.'^

But it was under the influence of this sentiment,
that his fortune became a refuge to the unfortunate,
far more extensively, than his unostentatious man-
ners imported. Notwithstanding the panoply which
protected him from the assaults of this world, lie
was like the feeblest of his race, naked and de-
fenceless against the dispensations of Heaven. By
the bereavements of death his bosom suffered many
and deep lacerations ; but they had the propitious
effect of opening his heart to mankind, instead of
withering and drying up its affections. He was gen-
tle, compassionate, charitable in many of the senses
that make charity the first of virtues; and long after
Lis leaves and branches were all torn away, tliere was

64 LIFE OF

more than one that reposed in the shade of his vene-
rable trunk. His closing year finely illustrated the
remark, that the heart of a good man is like a good
soil, which is made more fertile by the plowshare,
that tears it and lays it open, — or like those plants
which give out their best odours when^they are bro-
ken and crushed.

An interesting record which this venerable man has
left behind him, acquaints us with many of his most
private thoughts, and presents him in a relation which
no man can renounce, and which, when duly obser-
ved, is the appropriate light wherein to behold an emi-
nent Judge, — the relation of man to his Creator.

His birth day, the 12th of August, was habitually
appropriated to the review of the past year, to self-
examination, and to pious devotion.

On the 12th of August 1804, when he completed
his forty- eighth year. He says — ^^ my health is good,
my constitution unimpaired, but 1 am deeply impres-
sed with the uncertainty of life. Let me prepare to
follow the numerous friends who have left this world
before me." — " The last stage of my residence on
earth is approaching. Time is precious. 1 must not
sufler it to be wasted in indolence, or thrown away on
light amusements. 1 have endeavoured during the
course of this day to strengthen my mind with virtu-
ous resolutions, and I hope my endeavours have not
been useless.^' He then repeats the resolutions he
liad formed for the government of his life, among
which is that of 'letting no day pass without pros-

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 65

trating himself before the Supreme Being, in medita-
tion, thanksgiving ami prayer;'' and he concludes his
memorial by offering, as he expresses it, " with a
grateful heart, his unworthy thanks to the Almighty
and Merciful God, for past favours, far exceeding his
merits," and by ^< imploring with all humility, that
he would graciously assist his weak endeavours to
keep the resolutions he had made."

Before the 12th of August, 1820, that feeble ray
which was promised to his declining days, was ex-
tinguished. The only child of his only daughter was
taken from him. Yet observe, how the light of the
divine philosophy shone inward, and dispelled the
gloom in which unassisted man would have sunk to
despair. "Great God, during the last year, thou hast
thrown me on the bed of sickness, and raised me up
from it. Thou hast taken from me my last earthly
hop&. I submit to thy providence, and pray that
thou will grant me fortitude under all my afflictions,
I am sure that whatever is ordained by thee is right.
May 1 never forget that thou art always present, the
witness and judge of my actions and thoughts. My
life is hastening to an end. May I, by thy gracious
assistance, so employ the remainder of it, as not to
be altogether unworthy of thy favour."

On the last anniversary that he ever saw, he begins
his paper with this prophetic declaration, ^^ this day
completes my seventieth year, the period which is

said to bound the life of man. My constitution is
9

66 LIFE OF

iuipaiietlj hut 1 cannot sufficiently thank God, that
my intellects are sounds that I am afflicted with no
painful disease, and that sufficient health remains to
make life comfortable. I pray for the grace of the
Almighty, to enable me to walk during the short rem-
nant of life in his ways. Without his aid I am sen-
sible that my eiTorts are unavailing. May I submit
with gratitude to all his dispensations, never forget
that ho is the witness of my actions and even of my
thoughts, and endeavour to honour, love, and obey
him, with all my heart, soul, and strength.''

It is no longer wonderful that this venerated man
performed his duties to universal acceptance, when we
discern the spirit, better far than the genius of So-
crates, from which he asked counsel. The ancients
would have said of him, that he lived in the presence
of all the Deities, since prudence was never absent
from him. The holders of a better faith must say,
that it was to no poetical deity, nor to the counsels of
his own mind, but to that " grace'' which his suppli-
cations invoked, that he owed his protection "from
most of the lapses to which fallible man is subject.

That " remnant of life" to which his last memorial
refers, unfortunately for us, was short as he had pre-
dicted ; but he walked it as he had done all that went
before, according to his devout aspiration. He con-
tinued to preside in the Supreme Court with liis
accustomed dignity and effect, until the succeeding
winter, when his constitution finally gave way, and
after a short confinement, on Monday, the 30tli of

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 67

April, 1827, he closed his eyes forever. Tt ivill be
long J very long before we shall o^eii ours, upon a
wiser Judge, a sounder lawyer, a riper scholar, a
purer man, or a truer gentleman.

The private life of this eminent man, was the re-
flection of an unclouded mind, and of a conscience
void of off'ence ; and sucli external vicissitudes as
marked it, did but ripen his virtues for tlicir appro-
priate scene hereafter. The praise of his public ca-
reer is, that it has been barren of those incidents
which arrest tlic attention, by agitating the passions,
of mankind. If it has grown into an unquestioned
truth, that the poorest annals belong to those epochs
whicli have been the richest in virtue and happi
ness, it may well be admitted that the best Judge for
the people, is he v/ho imperceptibly maintains them
in their rights, and leaves few striking events for bi-
ography.

His course does not exhibit the magnificent variety
of the ocean, sometimes uplifted to the skies, at others
retiring into its darkest caves, — at one moment gay
with the ensigns of power and wealih, and at another
strewing its shores with the melauchoiy fragments of
shipwreck ; — but it is the equal current of a majes-
tic river, which safely bears upon its bosom the riches
of the land, and reads its history in the smiling cities
and villages, that are reflected from its unvarying
surface.

Such is the praise of the late Chief Justice Tilgh
man, lie merited, by hi;^ public works and by hh

68

LIFE OF

private virtues^ the respect and affection of his coun-
trymen ; and the best wish for his country and his
office is, that his mantle may have fallen upon his
successor.

The love of fame in the pursuit of either of the
learned professions, upon the judicial scat, or in the
field of battle, always stimulates the mind to the ex-
ertion of its faculties in the performance of those ac-
tions which are most likely to survive mortality, and
live beyond the grave ; and which, when faithfully
achieved, render the evening of life as brilliant as its
morning. And the ear which would be deaf to the
sickly adulation of the insipid compliment will attend
with pleasure to the noble enthusiasm with which
Cicero exclaims, ^^ why should we attempt to dissem-
ble what it is impossible for us to conceal," why
should we not be proud of confessing frankly that
we all aspire to fame. True, " virtue as we have
here exemplified, asks no other reward for all the
toils and dangers, to which she is exposed, than that
of fame and glory."

And now, in conclusion ; studious and reflecting
reader, suffer the author of this brief memoir, again to
commend the high attainments of this excellent man
to your veneration and esteem. Make them the model
for your imitation in life ; that you may like him,
exhibit a cheerful resignation in the solemn moment

WILLIAM TILGHMAN. 69

of death. For thou too, "shall surely die," and
"after this the judgment!" Having filled up the
measure of your country's claim; accommodated
yourself with all the comforts of this life, which are
at best but frail and transitory, " acquaint now thyself
with God and be at peace," then shall you learn to
live here, follow the example of the pious and the
good, and " set your affection on things above,"

iira®^'^

IN COMMEMORATION OF

DOCTOR CASPAR IXTISTAR,

LATE PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY
HELD AT PHILADELPHIA.

BY THE HON. WILLIAM TILGHMAN,

CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF PENNSYLVANIA,

AND ONE OF THE VICE-PRESIDENTS OF THE

AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY-

1818.

10

(A.)

ETJLOa-IIJlC.

Gentlemen of the Phllosojjhical Society ^
Fellow- Citizens f Friends —

IF your wishes or mine had availed, we should
not have been assembled on this solemn occasion.
For, surely, never was life more earnestly desired,
never death more sincerely regretted, than that of the
excellent person, whose character 1 am called upon to
delineate. Witness the alarm which pervaded the
city, on the first intelligence of his illness — the friends
who thronged his house, with anxious inquiries while
hope remained, and departed in silent sorrow when
the despairing bulletin announced the approaching
crisis — Witness the long procession, which, through
crowded stfccts, followed his mortal remains to their

76 APPENDIX.

last abode. But it was the will of God, that he
should die, and to that will we submit. The Ame-
rican Philosophical Society, have not assembled, for
the purpose of indulging rebellious murmurs or vain
regrets. No — they better understand their duty. But
deeply impressed with the merit of their deceased
president, they have resolved, that his talents and his
virtues shall be held up to public view. To him, in-
deed, this is now of no concern. The breath of
praise, so sweet to the living, no longer reaches him.
But in a world abounding in temptation, it is neces-
sary that men should be stimulated to virtue, not only
by the example of the dead, but by the hope of pos-
tumous honour. For, such is our nature, that we
are powerfully incited by the desire of fame, even
after death. It has been thought wise, therefore, by
most nations, and particularly by the ancient repub-
lics, to pronounce Eulogies on the meritorious dead.
If wise in them, it is no less so in us. Indeed, we
have more need of this custom, than they; because,
from the nature of our government, we have fewer
artificial excitements to noble actions. We admit of
no permanent honours, either personal or hereditary.
But the ancient republics had both. We are not
without danger of becoming too exclusively, the vo-
taries of wealth, often acquired by sordid and ignoble

APPENDIX. 77

couducl. It behoves us, therefore, to counteract this
overwhelming influence, by refusing it any weight in
the estimation of character. This can be in no
way better done, than by fixing a standard in wliich
Avealth shall be no ingredient. And in the formation
of this standard, posthumous Eulogium will be a
powerful engine. Wealth will no longer be thought
praiseworthy, when it has ceased to be an object of
praise. 1 am aware of the opinion of a celebrated
Roman Historian, that this kind of eulogy, although
productive of much good, had an evil tendency, in
corrupting the truth of history. But this will depend
on the use which is made of it. If employed for the
purpose of lavishing indiscriminate, or unjust enco-
mium, it will be an evil ; if judiciously used, a good.
By our Society, this honour has certainly been dis-
pensed, not only with sound judgment, but with a
frugal hand. We shall not be accused of corrupting
historical integrity, when it is known that but three
Eulogies have hitherto been pronounced by our order ;
and that the objects of these three were Franklin,
Kittenhouse, and Priestley. Indeed, it has been the
opinion of many, and particularly of him, whose vir-
tues we are about to commemorate, that we have
been too sparing of just ajpiilause. At the last meet-
ing of the Society which he attended, he expressed

78 APPENDIX.

liis I'cgrcl that many of our associates had been suf-
fered to siuk into unmerited oblivion. In this senti
mcut he was perfectly disinterested ; for be was theu
in full possession of health and spirits, little think-
ing that at the very next meeting, his brethren would
bo occupied with the mournful care of decreeing to
him that honour of which he was worthy in the judg-
ment of all. I much fear that I shall be unable to
do him justice. Indeed, when 1 reflect that he was
eminent in a profession, of which 1 pretend not to be
a competent judge, I feel conscious that the honour-
able task assigned to me would have been better per-
formed by several distinguished members who have
moved in the same sphere. In one qualification, how-
ever I am not deficient — in zeal for the memory of a
man whom I loved and admired. At all events, I felt
myself obliged to obey the will of the Society, and
trusting to their candour, I shall endeavour faithfully
to portray the character of our departed brother.

Doctor Caspar Wistar had the good fortune to
descend from ancestors in whom he beheld exam-
])lcs worthy of imitation. His paternal grandfather,
Caspar Wistar, emigrated from the dominions of the
Elector Palatine of Germany, and arrived at Phila-
ilcl[)lua in the year 1717. He was a man of strong
ititcllLLl, and lipplicd his life to Ubcful purposes. By

APPENDIX, 79

his exertions was established in New Jersey, about
thirty miles from Philadelphia, a manufacture of
glass, supposed to have been the first in North Ame-
rica. His maternal grandfather, Bartholomew Wyatt,
emigrated from England with his wife, not long after
William Penn commenced the settlement of Pennsyl-
vania. He lived not far from Salem in New Jersey,
and was active and distinguished in the affairs of his
day, both civil and religious. His father was re
marked for firmness of character, and paid particular
attention to the morals and religion of his children.

Wistar himself was born in Philadelphia, the 13th
of September, 1761. As his parents and ancestors,
on both sides, were of the religious Society of
Friends, he was brought up in their principles, and
received his classical education, at a school estab-
lished by them in this city. I have been able to dis-
cover nothing very uncommon in his juvenile charac-
ter. In quickness of apprehension he was surpassed
by several of his companions; but what he under
took he never failed to accomplish by perseverance.
That he was a good scholar, may be inferred from
the knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages,
which he was afterwards known to posses. Until
the age of sixteen, his faculties were expanding;
but the peculiar cast of his genius had not been dc

80 APPENDIX.

veloped. About tliat period occurred an event, whicli
called forth the ruling passion, and decided his fate.
This event was the battle of Germantown, in the year
1777. His religious principles kept him out of battlcj
but his humanity led him to seek the wounded sol-
dier, and he was active in assisting those who were
administering relief. His benevolent heart was af-
fected by their sufferings ; and so deeply was he
struck with the happy effects of the medical art, that
he determined to devote his life to a profession form-
ed to alleviate the miseries of mankind. Conquerors
and heroes — ye who delight in the shout of battle,
and exult in the crimson field of victory, contemplate
the feelings of this young man, and blush at the con-
trast! But let us adore the mercy of God, whose
mysterious Providence produces good from evil.
From the decay of matter, springs up the green
herb and the purple flower. From the disasters of
Germantown, arises a youth, destined to bind up the
wounds of many, and to send forth from his instruc-
tive school, thousands of hands, to open the fountains
of health throughout the land.

Firm in his purpose, Wistar applied himself to tlio
study of medicine, under Docctor John lledmau,
a very respectable physician of this city, formerly
President of the College of Physicians, with whom

ArPENDIX. 81

he remained upwards of three years. During the
last year he attended also the practice of Doctor John
Jones, an eminent surgeon, who had left New York,
in consequence of its occupation by the British army.
It was the fortune of Wistar, to gain the esteem of
all his preceptors ; an infallible mark of his own good
conduct. The friendship of two such men as Red-
man and Jones, was a valuable acquisition ; and from
that of Jones in particular, very important conse-
quences resulted. Having gone through the usual
course of study, and attended the medical lectures,
Wistar oifered himself in the year 1782, as a candi-
date for the degrees of Bachelor of Medicine, in the
University of Pennsylvania. Previous to the ob-
taining of this honour, he underwent an examination
in the presence of the trustees of the University. It
is said that he acquitted himself, on that occasion, in
an extraordinary manner: answering the questions
proposed to him, with such uncommon promptness
and precision, as excited the surprize, and command-
ed the admiration of all who heard him. There was
a singularity in this examination of which I have
been informed by a gentleman who was present.
The faculty of medicine were not all of one theory,
and each professor examined with an eye to his own

system ; of this Wistar was aware, and had the ad-

u

82 APPENDIX,

dress to answer each to his complete satisfaction^ in
his own way. Of course the degree was conferred
on him.

Instead of entering immediately into the practice
of medicine, he determined to avail himself of the
advantages to be found in the schools of London and
Edinburgh, at that time the first in the world. In
this, he displayed his usual judgment. It has been
remarked that, with few exceptions, those who have
been great in the learned professions, have abstained
from practice at an early age. The cause is obvious.
The elements of science lie too deep to be attained,
without long and patient thought. The mind requires
retirement and tranquility, to exert its powers of re-
flection to their full extent. But these are incompati-
ble with the bustle, the anxiety, the agitation of active
life. There was another reason too, formerly of
great weight, though not so now, for finishing a me-
dical education in Europe. Our own schools were in
their infancy, and he who had been initiated in others
of so much greater celebrity, carried with him a splen-
dour, reflected from the masters under whom he liad
studied. This had appeared in Morgan, Shippcn,
Kuhn, and Rush, too plainly to be overlooked by the
searching eyes of Wistar. Accordingly he went to
England, in October, 1783.

APPENDIX. 83

The air ot Loudon was unfavourable to bis bealth,
wLich compelled him to make frequent excursions
into the country. But no time was lost by these ex-
cursions. His investigating mind was busily em-
ployed in acquiring knowledge of various kinds ; and
bis familiar letters, during his abode in England, to
his friends in America, gave promise of that devoted
attachment to science, for which bis character was
afterwards distinguished.

Having remained a year in England, be repaired
to Edinburgh, where ho passed bis time, not like ma-
ny young men, in frivolous or vicious amusements ;
but in study, in attending lectures, in cultivating the
friendship of distinguished persons. To act a part
like this, requires no small share of good sense and
resolution. But to understand the merit of Wistar^
it should be known, that in consequence of his fa-
ther's death, be was easy in bis fortune, and uncon-
trolled master of bis actions. Groat is the danger
to which youth is exposed in populous cities. To
each is offered the choice of Hercules. The paths of
pleasure and of virtue lie open before tlicm. False
steps are not easily retraced ; for the diverging paths
grow wider and wider asunder, until they terminate
in the opposite extremes of infamy and honour.

Always intent on improving bis opportunities, he

84 APPENDIX.

made a journey on foot, in October, 1785, in company
with Charles Thrograorton, Esq. and Mr. EUcock,
of Dublin, through part of the Highlands of Scotland,
and visited Glasgow, Inverary, and Inverness. His
character was now rising rapidly at Edinburgh. That
he enjoyed the esteem of the great Cullen, appears
by a letter dated January, 1786. For two successive
years he was elected one of the Presidents of the
Royal Medical Society of Edinburgh. He was elected
also President of the society, *^ for the further inves-
tigation of natural history." These honours, con-
ferred by a great, a learned, and a proud nation, on
a youth, a stranger, one whose country had but just
risen into existence, are the surest testimonies of un-
common merit. We contemplate them not only with
pleasure, but with pride. Their lustre is reflected
from the man to the country which gave him birth.

About the year 1785, he was received into the
house of Doctor Charles Stewart, a most respectable
Physician of Edinburgh, with whom he lived during
the remainder of the time that he spent in that city.
Of this favour he was highly sensible. He always
remembered it with gratitude, and spoke of it with
pleasure.

In Tunc, 1786, he took his degree of Doctor of
Medicine in the University of Edinburgh ; his Inaugu-

APPENDIX. 85

ral Dissertation, ^^ de *lnimo Demissd*^ is dedicated
to Dr. Fraukin and Doctor CuUen ; the one, at the
head of philosophy in his own country, the other flou-
rishing in Scotland in medical fame. Towards the
end of the year 1786, he took leave of Edinburgh,
leaving behind him a name long remembered. This
is testified by his countrymen who visited that city
many years after. His fame flew before him to his
native city, where he arrived in January 1787, after
an absence of more than three years.

He was now about to enter upon a new and more
important scene. Hitherto he had spent his time in
preparation. A considerable portion of life had pas-
sed away. It was time to be useful — This was the
object of his labours, the wish of his heart. He
had formed to himself a sublime idea of his profes-
sion. Medicine he considered as an art by which an
individual may be a benefactor to the universe, and
confer blessings on unborn generations. To this ele-
vation of mind he owed his eminence. For who
would submit to the toils and privations whicli lead
to greatness, without exalted ideas of the prize ?

With talents matured, his mind enriched witli the
fruits of study and experience, he now engaged in
the practice of medicine with every advantage. His
friends were numerous, and his fellow-citizens in

S6 APPENDIX.

general disposed to confide in him. Nor was their
confidence disappointed. His old friend and precep-
tor, Doctor Jones, took the most delicate means of
afTording; him an opportunity of making himself known.
Tliis was all he wanted. His works spoke for them-
selves. His mind was eminently formed for a profes-
sion, in which precipitancy is danger, and mistake
is death. No man ever performed his duty to his
patients with more scrupulous integrity. He spared
no pains in collecting all the symptoms from which
the disease might be ascertained. His visits were
long, his questions numerous and minute. He paus-
ed before he decided, but was seldom wrong — and
his mind once satisfied, he was not easily moved from
his purpose. In consultation with his brethren he
was courteous and attentive ; never overbearing, but
always stating, with modest firmness, the result of
his own reflections. His patients he never failed to
attach to him. How indeed could it be otherwise,
when to the sedulous attentions of a Physician, was
added the sympathy and anxiety of a friend. Though
much given to hospitality, he never neglected the du-
ties of his profession. Being eminent, both in medi-
cine, and surgery, his practice soon became so exten-
sive, that he was in the habit of walking ten miles
daily. Ho would often rise from the convivial tabic

ArPENDIX. 87

to visit liis patients, and request liis friends to remain
with bis family until his return. Yet the pleasure of
pleasing others seemed an antidote to fatigue, and
enabled him, generally, to be the most animated of the
company. To a man thus acting, success is certain.
Fortune, who intoxicates the weak, had no power
over his steady mind. He knew that nothing is
stationary in life. No man continues great without
continued labour. All nature is in motion ; and he
who does not advance, will surely recede. By unre-
mitted exertions, he always kept the ground he had
gained, and still pressed forward to the pinnacle of
his profession. His labours were sweetened with
reward, and his spirit cheered with public favour.

In the year 1787, he was appointed Physician to
the Philadelphia Dispensary, a useful and charitable
institution then recently established. In the same year
he was elected a member of the college of Physicians,
and of our society. In 1788, to his other good for-
tune was added domestic happiness, by his marriage
with his first wife, Isabella Marshall, daughter of
Christopher Marshall of this city. In 1789 he was
elected professor of Chymistry in the "college of Phi-
ladelphia." Tills appointment he did not accept with-
out great hesitation. Philadelphia had then the mis-
fortune to be divided between two rival schools ; tlic

88 APPENDIX.

faculty of medicine of tho College and that of the
University of Pennsylvania. He saw and lamented the
consequences of this division. It was his wish to
unite, in one great institution, the talents of the city.
But finding that the period of union had not yet arriv-
ed, he accepted the professorship offered him by the
College, in order to preserve an influence, to be exert-
ed at the proper season, and in this purpose he was
not disappointed ; for he had the satisfaction of contri-
buting largely to the much desired union, which was
afterwards effected.

In 1790, he was struck with aflliction, in the loss
of a wife whom he tenderly loved. This severe mis-
fortune, he bore like a Christian, who feels calamity,
but submits to the dispensations of Providence. Resig-
nation to the will of the Almighty, and an active
discharge of worldly duties, are the only sources of
consolation, in afflictions like this. These were the
resources of Wistar. He did not then foresee, that
great as it was, this loss would one day be repaired by
a companion no less worthy of his affection than the
one he so justly mourned.

In the memorable summer of 1793, when the Phy-
sicians were the forlorn hope which stood between
the pestilence and the people, he had nearly lost his life
— he did not escape the awful visitation, but was for-

APPENDIX. 89

tuuate enough to recover from it. In the autumn of
the same year, he was chosen Physician to the Penn-
sylvania Hospital. In that celebrated institution, his
services were principally in the department of surge-
ry, where he found ample scope for the exercise of his
humanity. I have been assured, from unquestionable
authority, that in attendance on the sick, he knew no
difierence between the rich and the poor. It requires
no small knowledge of the human heart, no little ex-
perience in the business of the world, to appreciate
this trait of character according to its real value. It
is easy to applaud the conduct of the good Samari-
tan— we all doit — and the Priest and the Lcvitc, had
they heard the parable, would have done the same.
But when brought to the test, they cast their eyes on
the wounded traveller and passed by.

The Rival Faculties of medicine being united in
the University of Pennsylvania, "Wistar was elected,
in January 1792, adjunct Professor of anatomy,
midwifery, and surgery, with the late Doctor Wm.
Shippeu, one of the fathers of the medical school.
Surgery and midwifery were afterwards erected into
several professorships ; Shipperi and Wistar retained
anatomy, and on the death of Shippcn, in 1808,
Wistar was placed, as sole Professor in the anatomi-
cal chair.

12

90 APPENDIX.

It was hero that the scene of his greatest excel-
lence was exhibited. In many departments of sci-
ence he was conspicuous, but here pre-eminent.
Here be exerted all his genius and strained every
faculty of his mind. His heart and soul were in the
object. No pains, no money were spared, to render
the lecture complete — and he succeeded ; for in the
opinion of able judges, he might well bear a compa-
rison with the most celebrated Professors in existence.
In language he was sufficiently fluent, and when a
little excied, even eloquent, and by happy allusions to
agreeable objects he contrived to scatter flowers over
a field, not naturally of an inviting aspect. But his
great aim was to render his demonstrations perfectly
intelligible, and this he always accomplished by dwel-
ling upon his subject, until he perceived that it was
clearly understood by his pupils. In the communi-
cation of his ideas he had a facility never attained but
by great masters. Too much praise cannot be given
him for the liberality with which he provided the ne-
cessary apparatus. His expenses in procuring every
kind of drawing or model which could represent the
various parts of the -human body, were greater than
can be conceived by those who have not been inform-
ed. The increase of his class keeping pace with the
fame of the Professor, it was found impossible to de-

APPENDIX. 91

iuonsti'ate to several hundred students at once, the
structure of all the minute organs. He had recourse,
tlierefore, to models, which gave an exact representa-
tion of the small parts of the human structure on a
magnified scale. This was not an original idea of
Wistar; but he extended this mode of instruction so
far beyond any thing which had been before practis-
ed, and its effects, under his lessons, were so lumi-
nous and happy, that we can scarce withhold from
him tlie merit of invention. There was another pe-
culiarity in his course of lectures, which should not
pass unnoticed. The general class was divided into
a number of sub-classes, each of whicli he supplied,
at his own expense, with materials for acquiring a
thorough acquaintance with the human skeleton; a
subject, which is allowed by all to be the foundation
of anatomical knowledge. Witli all these advanta
ges, a student, who diligently attended his lectures,
could scarce fail to become an anatomist.

He published a few years ago, a System of Ana-
tomy adapted to the use of students, the character of
which, 1 shall give, in words better than my own,
obligingly communicated by a professor of our medi
cal faculty.^ "It is a model for an elementary work.

'■ Doctor Dorscy, Professor of Materia Mcdica.

92 APPENDIX.

" The stylo is simple, plain, intelligible— the descrip-
*^tions brief and accurate — the arrangement lucid,
<^ and the whole work altogether worthy of his talents.
<^ However numerous the writings of anatomists, I
^^ have no hesitation in declaring this by far the most
^< easily understood, and by far the best fitted for the
^' purposes intended."

Anatomy has been so much studied both by the
ancients and moderns, and so many excellent works
have been published on the subject, that any disco-
very, at this time of day, was scarcely to be expected.
Yet, it is supposed to be without doubt, that Wistar
was the first who observed and described the posterior
portion of the ethmoid bone in its most perfect state,
viz. with the triangular boues attached to it. Of this
he has given an accurate description in the volume of
our Transactions now in the press. On the subject
of that discovery he received, a few days before his
death, a letter from Professor Soemmering, of the
kingdom of Bavaria, one of the most celebrated ana-
tomists in Europe, of which the following is an ex-
tract : <* The neat specimen of the sphenoid and eth-
" moid bones, are an invaluable addition to my ana-
^' tomical collection, having never seen them myself,
"in such a perfect state. 1 shall now be very atten-
" tive to examine these processes of the ethmoid bone

APPENDIX. 93

^^ in children of two years of age, being fully pcr-
"suaded Mr. Berlin had never met with them of
"such a considerable size, nor of such peculiar
^^ structure."

By the class of medical students Wistar was uni-
versally loved and respected. It has been said, that
during the period of his lectures, they increased in
number from one to five hundred. To ascribe this
prodigious increase to him alone, would be doing
injustice to the dead. Let me not adorn his recent
grave with laurels torn from the tombs of others.
But without violating that modesty which he loved,
I may be permitted to say, that no individual con-
tributed more than he, to raise the school to its pre-
sent eminence. The institution, it must not be dis-
sembled, has received a rude shock in the loss of
this invaluable Professor. And this reflection is the
more serious, when we take a short retrospect. A
few years have robbed us of Shippen, and Wood-
house, and Rush, and Barton, and Kuhn. And now
Wistar is gone, the last of that old school, by whose
labours the fabrick has been reared so high. But I
do not dispair. Our loss, although great, is not ir-
reparable. Not that a Professor is to be expected,
who can at once fill the vacant chair with all the
splendour of his predecessor — but by treading in his

94 APPENDIX.

footsteps^ and following his example, we may flatter
ourselves, that ere long his successor will approach if
not equal his excellence. Among the other Profes-
sors are still to be found unrivalled talents, and as a
body, they merit and possess the public confidence.
They will exert all their powers to keep the lead
which has been taken in the medical field.

Far from their breasts be the ignoble passions of
jealousy or envy. But every nerve must be strained
in the noble race of generous emulation. Nor liave
we any fears for the event. They have the start, and
we trust, they will be first in at the gaol.

In December 1798, Wistar married the amiable
lady who now laments his loss — Elizabeth Mifflin,
niece of tlie late governor Mifflin. Of his first mar-
riage there is no issue. In his last he was blessed
with many children, only three of whom remain.

In the year 1809, knowing the prejudices that ob-
structed the progress of vaccination, he suggested the
plan of a society for circulating the benefit of that
noble discovery which has immortalised J euner. And
in this he had the pleasure of finding himself second-
ed by a number of public spirited gentlemen, who as-
sociated themselves for that useful purpose — so great
has been their success, that by their means, upwards
of eleven tliousand persons had been vaccinated in

APPENDIX.

95

this city anil liberties, and the district of Southwavk,
previous to their annual report in January last — nor
is that all — for, encouraged by their examples the
corporation have generously provided by law for the
gratuitous vaccination of the poor in the city.

In May 1810, he resigned his office of physician
to the Hospital. In what estimation he was held by
the managers, will best appear by their own resolu-
tion, entered on their minutes. " The conclusion of
<»' Dr. Wistar, to withdraw at the present time, was
" unexpected and very much regrettetl by the mana-
<»gers who would have gladly embraced the oppor-
" tunity of giving to a long- tried, experienced, and
'f faithful practitioner, a further proof of their conii-
" dence in his skill and abilities, by re-electing him
" to the office he has filled more than sixteen years
" successively, with great reputation, if he had not
<^^ prevented them, by declining to serve any longer.
" Under these impressions, the managers reluctantly
" part with Dr. Wistar, being thankful for his past
^^ exertions to serve the institution, and for his kind
"offers to advise and assist, if there shall be any
" particular reason to require it, on any future oc-
" casion."

In July 1794, he was appointed one of the censors
of " the College of Physicians.'' a very learned in-

96 APPENDIX,

corporated society — which oiBcc he retained to the
time of his death.

Having taken a view of his public and private ser-
vices as a physician, let us now consider him as a
man of general science and literature. His classical
learning, gained at school, Vi^as much enlarged by
subsequent reading. He became an excellent scholar.
The Latin, he understood so well, as occasionally to
hold conversations in it. He acquired enough of the
French language to converse without difficulty, and
was well acquainted with the German. In the charac-
ter of an accomplished physician, is combined a varie-
ty of sciences. Anatomy was Wistar's fort, but he was
well versed in Chymistry, 15otany, Mineralogy, and
History, in all its branches. As appurtenant to his pro-
fession, he had reflected deeply on the human mind.
Its connexion with the body, the manner of its being
acted on by matter, and the cure of its maladies, he
considered as desiderata in medicine. That these ob-
jects had engaged much of his thought, is evident.
For, when a student at Edinburgh, I find that he pro-
posed questions concerning them, to Doctor Cullen ;
his Thesis, " dc Aninio Hcmisso," shows the same
train of thinking, and in the last valedictory address
to his pupils, he exhorts them to investigate the sub-

APPENDIX. 97

ject, aud to make themselves familiar with the writ-
ings of Locke, Hartley, Priestley, and Reid.

As an author, he has not left much behind him.
He sometimes wrote anonymous essays which were
published in the papers of the day, and others which
had his signature, appeared in the Transactions of the
College of Physicians, and in the printed volumes of
our Transactions. Among the latter is a paper in
which are detailed some very curious experiments on
the evaporation of ice. This subject has been since
ably developed by others, but it is believed that Wis-
tar was among the first who attracted to that object
the attention of the public. His most considerable
work is his system of Anatomy. Great literary works
are not to be accomplished, without more leisure
than is allowed to men engaged in extensive profes-
sional business. Yet such persons may do much for
the promotion of literature. And this was the case
with Wistar. What he could himself, he did, and
encouraged others to do more, who had more oppor-
tunity. His ardent zeal for science made him anx-
ious to promote it by all means and on all occasions.
His house was open to men of learning, both citi-
zens and strangers ; and there is no doubt that at the
weekly meetings, which took place under his hospita-
ble roof, were originated many plans for the advance-
is

98 APPENDIX.

ment of science, which were afterwards carried into
happy effect. In consequence of ill health, he had
been for some years gradually retiring from the
practice of medicine, and had his life been spared a
little longer, he would probably have confined himself
to his lectures, and indulged those studies, which
he loved, and for which he would then have found
leisure. He had completed the Biography of his
friend and colleague. Dr. Shippen, and had it in con-
templation to write a Memoir on the life of the late
professor Barton. He was industriously inquiring
into the natural history of our western country, and
had commenced a ooUection of subjects for the in-
vestigation of Comparative Anatomy, to which he
was incited by his friend Correa da Serra, whose
name is identified with science both in Europe and
America. He had been accustomed to correspond
with men of distinguished talents, both at home and
abroad. Among these are found the names of Hum-
boldt and Soemmering, in Germany ; Camper, in Hol-
land ; Michaud, in France; Sylvester, in Geneva;
Doctor Pole and Doctor Thomas C. Hope, in Great
Britain ; and in the United States, of the late presi-
dent Jefferson, Correa da Sarra, Warren, and most
others conspicuous in literature. In 1815, he was
elected an honorary member of tlie Literary and Phi-

APPENDIX. 99

losophical Society of New York, autl the same hon-
our was conferred on him by other Literary Institu-
tions.

In the year 1795, he was elected Y ice-President
of our society, and in 1815, on the resignation of Mr.
Jefferson, he succeeded to the chair of his illustrious
friend. I need not call to your recollection with what
propriety, what decorum, what suavity of manners,
he discharged the duties of this honourable station.
Such was his courtesy, that he seemed anxious even
to divest himself of that superiority, which the order
of business rendered necessary. He was assiduous
in attending committees. He was one of the first and
most strenuous supporters of the Historical and Lite-
rary Committee, instituted by the society about two
years ago. With what ardour did he excite them to
industry, in collecting, ere too late, the fleeting ma-
terials of American History? The meetings of this
committee he regularly attended. It was their cus-
tom, after the business of the evening was conclu-
ded, to enter into an unrestrained conversation on
literary subjects. There, without intending it, our
lamented friend would insensibly take the lead ; and'
so interesting were his anecdotes, and so just his re-
marks, that drawing close to the dying embers, we
often forgot the lapse of time, until warned by the un-

100 APPENDIX.

welcome clock, that we had entered on another day.
To the business of the society in general, he Was al-
ways attentive, and his zeal for its interest could not
be surpassed. Considering his conduct in every point
of view, 1 may truly say that he gave universal satis-
faction. ^

The understanding of Wistar was rather strong
than brilliant. Truth was its object. His mind was
patient of labour, curious in research, clear, although
not rapid in perception, and sure in judgment. What
is gained with toil is not easily lost. His informa-
tion was remarkably accurate, and his tenacious
memory held fast what it had once embraced. In
youth he had given some time to poetry, and in
maturer age he had not lost his taste for it. His fa-
vourite poets were Pope and Milton. Among those of
more modern date, he preferred Cowper and Burns.
But the inclination of his genius was decidedly for
graver studies. Of time, and nothing else, he was
avaricious. As he rode in a carriage he often read,
and when confined by sickness, he was fond of
being read to by his family. But on such occasions
he chose his book, which was always on some useful
subject. On its being once proposed to him to hear
a celebrated novel which had just came out, he re-
jected it, declaring, as he had often done before, that

APPENDIX. 101

to listen to works of mere fiction, was little better
than loss of time. He had ranged over most of the
objects of nature, in all her varieties ; but next to
his profession, the subjects in which he seemed most
to delight, were the history and productions of Ame-
rica. To have been born an American, he esteemed
a blessing, and to possess a knowledge of all her re-
sources and advantages seemed to him a duty which
he owed to himself and his country.

It remains to consider our deceased associate as a
private citizen and a man. Public office he neither
held nor sought, although enjoying the affection of
him whose favour was fortune. This disinterested
friendship does honour to both. To the liberty of his
country he was firmly and warmly attached. Con-
cerning the defence of liberty against foreign aggres-
sion, there can be no difference of opinion. But when
the question is, how best to preserve it by our own
Institutions, we are agitated by frightful discord. In
such circumstances, it is not only the right but the
duty of every man to speak his sentiments with can-
dour and firmness; never forgetting, that to err is
human, and that he himself, or his friend who oppo-
ses him may be mistaken, without blame. Such was
the conduct of Wistar, who preserved his principles,
without sacrificing his friendships. Uis opinions, on

102 APPENDIX.

all subjects, carried deserved weight. 1 owe it to can-
dour, therefore, to say, that I have always under-
stood he agreed in sentiment with those who have held
the government, since the presidency of Mr. Adams.
But the harmony in which he lived with friends of
both parties, and the respect and affection whicli
friends of both parties entertained for him, afford a
memorable example, well worthy the serious reflec-
tion of those who suppose that political intolerance
is essential to political integrity.

1 turn with pleasure from the field of politics to
objects of a more delightful nature ; the piety, the
goodness, the philanthropy of our lamented friend.
Vain is the splendour of genius without the virtues
of the heart. No man who is not good, deserves the
name of ivise. In the language of scripture, folly and
wickedness are the same ; not only because vicious
habits do really corrupt and darken the understand-
ing, but because it is no small degree of folly to be
ignorant that the chief good of man is to know the
will of his Creator and do it, Wistar lived and died
in the religious principles of those who have adopted
the modest and endearing name of Friends. The
people of this respectable society have preserved
more of ancient simplicity in dress and manners, than
any among us. They once outnumbered all other re-

APPENDIX. 103

ligious societies in Pennsylvania. But although that
has long ceased to he the case, yet, fortunately for us,
they are still powerful enough to exert a silent influ-
ence, checking the overflowing tide of luxury, which
threatens to deluge the land.

It is difficuU for a physician to be punctual in at-
tendance on public worship. But if Wistar was not
punctual, it was not because he was insensible of the
duty, but because he was called by other duties to
the assistance of his fellow mortals in another place.
He, therefore, desired that his family should be re-
gular in attendance at meeting, and he himself went
when the situation of his patients permitted. In his
devotion, as in every thing else, he was void of osten-
tation. But that his mind dwelt much on that impor-
tant object, I can have no manner of doubt. When
a youth, at Edinburgh, his friend. Dr. Charles Stew-
art, made him a present of a neat edition of the Bible,
in two small volumes. These he carefully preserved
to the day of his death; and it was his custom, when
he travelled, always to take one of them with him.
This circumstance was well known to his children,
the eldest of whom frequently accompanied him in
his excursions, and could not fail to impress on their
tender minds, a veneration for tlic book which tlieir
father so highly prized.

104 APPENDIX.

It has been asserted that the study of natural phi-
losophy tends to infidelity and even to atheism. To
plead the cause of philosophy before this society
would be worse than waste of time. But as we are
honoured with the presence of numerous strangers, it
may not be improper to say a few words in answer to
this popular objection. It is not foreign to my sub-
ject ; because, if there be truth in the assertion, in-
stead of recommending our late president, as an ex-
ample worthy of imitation, we should point him out
as a delusive meteor, whose false light might lead the
unwary to the pit of destruction. I shall say but lit-
tle ; for were I to permit myself to enlarge on the
boundless subject, I should soon exhaust my own
strength and your patience. In the sacred scripture,
the repository of the revealed will of the Deity, we
find it written, that God has not left himself without
witness among the heathen; that is to say, his visible
works bear witness to his existence and his attribute*.
And it is most true. The most barbarous nations are
struck with^the evidence, and acknowledge the ex-
istence of a power superior to man. But those stu-
pendous works, which, in silent majesty, proclaim
their Maker, do not disclose half their testimony to
an ignorant observer. Nay, if not understood, there
is danger of being misled by them. The untutored

APPENDIX. 105

savage beholds thcsplendoar of thesun, and perceives
that from the warmth of its rays proceeds the growth
of the innumerable vegetables which give beauty and
comfort to the world. Ignorant of its nature^ he con-
siders it as an intelligent being, and worships it as a
God. What would be his sensations, could the dark-
ness of his mind be instantaneously illumined by phi-
losophy; how great his surprise at perceiving that this
resplendent orb, the object of his adoration, was no
more sensible than the brute earth on which he trod ?
With what astonishment, and gratitude, and awe,
would he contemplate that great Being who fixed the
sun in his orbit, and clothed it with light ? If we pass
from the savage to civilized man, the effects of in-
creased knowledge will be of the same nature. The
most ignorant among us understand that the sun was
created by God. To every one, therefore, it is a
mighty witness of the existence and power of its
Maker. But thousands and thousands see nothing
in the sun, but the source of light and heat. Suppose
now, their minds to be endowed with the knowledge
of all its wonderful power — Suppose them to view it
as the centre round which revolve, in rapid and cease-
less motion, the immense bodies which form the
planetary system, all bound, by its attractive force,
to one immutable path through the trackless void—:

14

106 Al'PENDIX.

Suppose tlicin; moreover to be informed, that the
countless stars which bespangle the firmament, are
probably other suns, enlightening and supporting
other systems of inhabited worlds ! — Suppose, I say,
the mass of mankind to have ideas like these, would
not the celestial bodies, to them bear stronger testi-
mony of the mighty God? And exactly the same
argument is applicable to every thing animate and
inanimate in this terrestrial globe— from intelligent
man to the scarce moving shellfish — from the tower-
ing oak to the twining ivy — from the sparkling dia-
mond to the dusky coal — from the massy rock to the
fine sand — from the troubled ocean to the glistening
dew-drop — from the loud tornado to the whispering
zephyr — whatever floats in air, or swims in water,
or rests on its unfathomcd bed — whatever flourishes
on earth's green surface, or lies hid in her capacious
bosom — all the elements of matter, with their un-
numbered varieties — all, all bear witness to their al-
mighty Maker, and witness stronger and stronger as
they are better and -better understood — for every thin
is perfect, every thing miracle. How then can it be
that as evidence increases faith should diminish ?
The thing is impossible. When the understanding is
convinced, it is not in human power to withhold
belief. JJut, it lias been said, that the pride of man

J3

APPICNDIX. 107

Ijeiverts his understaiuliiig — tliat, iutoxicalctl witli Iiis
own little discoveries, he, forgets his Maker, and with
the fool, says in his heart, there is no God. In the-
ory this is not true ; nor is it in fact. That there are
melancholy instances of extraordinary intellect de-
stroyed by intense study, is not to be denied, xind
candour would ascribe to that cause, the atheism at-
tributed, perhaps unjustly, to a late celebrated French
astronomer. But such cases are rare. On the con-
trary, the instances are without number, where rea-
son has maintained her seat, and the belief in God
has been confirmed. To give the highest examples
at once, I shall mention Newton in England, and our
own Rittenhouse, whose minds the mighty Maker of
the universe seems to have touched with celestial
fire, in order that they might unfold his works and
render their testimony plain and irresistible. Nor
is it true, that knowledge begets pride. This is proved
by the two great men I liave named, as remarkable
for modesty as for depth of science. It is only the
half learned who are insolent. They are proud, be-
cause they are ignorant. But the truly wise are most
sensible of their own imperfection. They prostrate
themselves before that supreme incomprehensible
Being, whose nature the aching benses in vain en
deavour to penetrate 5 and, when it pleases him to re-

108 ' APPENDIX.

veal himself, they receive with humility and gratitude
those truths which human understanding could never
have attained. Away then with the ungenerous
aspersion, and let bigotry confess that the door of
true philosophy opens directly into the temple of true
religion.

To Wistar, philosophy was the handmaid of reli-
gion— she elevated his soul and warmed his aflfec-
tions.

After loving God with all our heart, the next great
commandment is to love our neighbour as ourself.
Were I asked to point out the most prominent fea-
ture in Wistar's character, 1 should answer, without
hesitation, benevolence. It was a feeling which seems
never to have forsaken him, beginning, as it ought,
with his own family, and extending to the whole
human race. Nor was it that useless sympathy which
contents itself with its own sensations. His chasity
was active, his hand ever seconding the feelings of
his heart. Next to religious obligations, and the in-
violable sanctity of truth, he impressed on the minds
of his children the duty of abstaining from wounding
the feelings of any human being. And he made
them frequently repeat the precept of our Saviour,
'< love one another." Even his person gave evidence
of philanthropy — his eye beamed good will, and his

APPENDIX. 109

whole air brought strongly to my miud what Tacitus
Bays in his description of Agricola: <'at first sight
you would have believed him to be good, and wished
him to be great." This ruling sentiment threw grace
over his actions, and inspired his conversation with
a charm. He never assumed — never displayed his
own superiority. On the contrary, he led the con-
versation to subjects in which others excelled. The
pedantry of technical language he despised, and
listened, with patience and politeness, to the obser-
vations of inferior understanding. It has been ob-
served that there is no book so dull but something
good may be extracted from it, Wistar applied this
principle to men, and possessed the remarkable talent
of drawing from every one some useful information.
From a young man, much attached to him, who had
an opportunity of knowing him well,^ 1 have receiv-
ed the following description. " He was one of the pu-
** rest republicans, both in conduct and conversation,
<< that 1 have ever known. No one was ever sensi-
" ble, by his conduct, of any difference of rank ; and
" as regards conversation, he was as careful not to
" oppress an ignorant neighbour by its abstruacncss,

* Dr. Horner, who was employed by Dr. Wistar as an assistant
in his Anatomical Lectures.

110 APPENDIX.

" as not to put an humble one out of countenance by
<< an air of euperiority."

That the kindness of his manner had something
^iincommonly attractive, 1 can myself bear witness.
My acquaintance with him commenced at a period of
life when the heart no longer yields to the illusions of
fancy. Yet, before I had time to be convinced of
his goodness, 1 felt myself drawn towards him by an
irresistable charm. I have taken pains to derive the
character of this excellent man from authentic sour-
ces. One communication, from a very near female
relation,* who knew his domestic habits, and even
the secrets of his heart, I will give in the words 1
received it, which I should but injure by attempting
to amend. '* His domestic habits were uncommonly
<^ mild and unassuming. Benevolence and charity
<^ characterized all his actions. In the cause of his
*< friends he spared no exertion, either by day or by
" night. His house was always open to them, and
"the evening society, which frequently gathered
<^ round him, was one of the greatest enjoyments of
« his life. His extreme modesty makes it difficult to
♦< particularize any act of his which ought to be men-
'^ tioncd ; for, although to do good was his ruling

* Mr&. Bachc, sister of Di. AVistai.

APPENDIX. Ill

^i passion, bis particular acts were rarely knowii; ex-
" cept to the persons immediately concerned. To
<^ merit his services was the sure passport to obtain
" them. In the cause of suffering humanity his feel-
" ings were always ardent. During his last illness,
*' he recommended to a friend the cause of the abo-
" rigines of America 5 and the last sentence he was
^' heard to pronounce, was, ^ 1 wish well to all man-
^^ kind,' Disinterestedness characterized his life, and
"it may be doubted whether so extensive a practice
"ever yielded so little emolument

On the death of Dr. Rush, Wistar succeeded him
as president of the Society for the Abolition of Sla-
very. The object of this society was congenial to
his mind. Considering the situation of the southern
States, the subject is delicate. But, certainly, the in-
troduction of slavery into our country is an event
deeply to be lamented, and every wise man must wish
for its gradual abolition.

For the Indians of America he seems to have felt
a particular kindness, lie admired their eloquence,
lamented their desolating wars, and earnestly sought
for the means of meliorating their condition. Hav-
ing once inoculated an Indian woman for the small
pox, her husband had fears for the event. Indeed
there was some cause for fear, as the woman refused

112 ' APPENDIX.

to submit to tho proper regimon. The anxiety of the
Doctor was extreme. She recovered j but until the
• danger was over, he declared, that on no occasion
had he been more oppressed with the responsibility
of his profession.

The gratitude of Wistar was remarkable. Servi-
ces done, or even intended, he always remembered |
but injuries he was ready to forget. In a letter writ-
ten at Edinburgh he declared, that he had determi-
ned to forgive every thing to a friend or near relation,
and expressed his belief, that it would contribute
greatly to happiness to extend forgiveness to every
one. This sentiment gained strength with time, and
at length ripened into a governing principle.

To say such a man was a dutiful son, a kind bro-
ther, a most affectionate husband and parent, would
be matter of supererogation. In the loss of his chil-
dren he was peculiarly unfortunate. To those who
remained, he was passionately devoted. As the cir-
cle of affection lessened, its warmth increased.

But had he no failings, no infirmities? Undoubt-
edly he had, for he was a man. But I may truly
say, that they fell not under my observation, and I
trust I shall be excused if 1 have not been anxious to
search for them.

APPENDIX. 413

His health, during the few last years, was inter-
rupted by several alarming attacks. He was subject
to great irregularities of pulse, and there was strong
symptoms of disorder in the chest, A collection of
water was apprehended. But the fact was, that a
small ossification had taken place between two of the
semi-lunar valves of the aorta. About the 14th of
January last, he was seized with a malignant fever
attended with symptoms of typhus. Art proved un-
availing, and he sunk under the disease, after an ill-
ness of eight days.*

We have lost him in the strength of life and vigour
of intellect — too soon indeed for his family and his
country; but not too soon for his own happiness or
fame. For, honourable age is not that which is mea-
sured by length of time, or counted by number of
days. But wisdom is the grey hair unto man, and un-
spotted character is fulness of years. Protracted life
would have been embittered by bodily pain — the
frailties of nature might have dimmed the lustre of
brighter years — or death, which had spared him,
might have desolated his house, and left him solitary
and cheerless to encounter the infirmities of age. Hap-
py then wert thou, Wistar, in death as well as life.

♦ Dr. Wistar died 22d January, 1818.
15

114 APPENDIX,

Thy work is done — thou art gone to receive thy re-
ward. Thou diedst in the full career of usefulness
and fame — thy heart overflowing with charity — sur-
rounded by friends, loving and beloved. Domestic
affection watched over thy pillow, and thy parting
looks rested on the objects dearest to thy soul. Death
hath affixed to thy character the seal not intrusted to
mortal hands. What though the strict equality of
thy religious society forbid thy undistinguished ashes
to be marked by even a modest stone, yet shall the
good, hold thy virtues long in remembrance, and Sci-
ence write thy name in her imperishable roll. The
last generous emotion of thy benignant spirit, shall
be reciprocated. All mankind shall wisli happiness
to him, who dying, wished happiness to all.

DELIVERED BEFORE THE

i^HlLADELPIIIA SOCIETY

FOR

FBOMOTING AGHIOULTUE£.

BV THE H0:N. WILLIAM TILGHMAN,

CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF PENNSYLVANIA,

AND ONE OF THE VICE-PRESIDENTS

OF THE SOCIETY.

1820.

B. )

ArDEnsis;.

Gentlemen of the Agricultural Society.

WHEN you did me the honour of requesting me
to deliver this Address, you did not expect that I
should enter into minute details of the process of Ag-
riculture. Such an attempt might expose my own
ignorance, but could not add to your information.
The object of our Society is the ^Jromotion of Jlgricid-
ture. Whatever conduces to this end, either immedi-
ately or even remotely, is worthy of our attention,
and within the scope of our Association. In this
view of the subject, I perceive so wide a range,
that there is less difficulty in finding objects, than
in making a proper selection. To call fortli the ex-

lis APPENDIX.

crtioiis of the Society its zeal must be excited. But
zeal is not to be excited, without a conviction of the
importance of the cause in which we are engaged.
May I he permitted then, to declare my conviction,
that amidst the profusion of Societies with which the
present age abounds, there is none more useful, or
more dignified, than that for the iivomotion of Agri-
culture, indeed, in point of utility^ I might justly
say that it precedes all others. Because, even if
mankind couid exist without Agriculture, yet they
roukl exist only in a savage state, and in small num-
bers. The great command ^^ increase andmidtiijlij,^^
could not be obeyed. There could be nothing worthy
the name of art, or science, or literature. When I
cast my eye on the map of Pennsylvania, and view
the vast quantity of excellent land, in the rude state
iti which nature formed it, 1 am struck with astonish-
ment at the multitudes which throng our cities, strug-
gling witli hunger, cold, and disease. Nor is my
wonder confined to tiic lower orders of society. For
i sec many of liberal education, and with the means
of acijuiiiiig a competency in the country, wasting
their lives in disgraceful idleness, or fruitless efforts
lo force their way througli the crov/ds which block up
every avcinie to prolit or preferment. Tlie flood of
rommcrcc which set upon our shores during five and

APPENDIX. 119

twenty years of war ami disorder in Europe, has
given to our cities a premature growth. In every
branch of trade and commerce there are too many
competitors. Labourers are too numerous. Every
mechanic art, every liberal profession is overdone.
Happy would it be for the city, and happy for the
country, if any efforts of this Society could inspire
a respect, and a taste, for an art in which no man
need be ashamed to employ his faculties ; for a condi-
tion, which after all, seems most congenial to the na-
ture of man. It is a life, to whicli at one time or
other, we all aspire. For who is there, that amidst
the eager pursuits of wealth or ambition, does not
sometimes pause, and console himself with the fond,
though often fallacious hope, of passing his latter days
in the independence, the ease, the plenty, the safety,
and the innocence of the country ! In Pennsylvania,
young men of education would have peculiar advan-
tages in spreading themselves through the country,
for it is a fact (and we arc every day feeling the effects
of it) that in no state in the union, is education so
much confined to towns. There are many inhabitants
of this city, who hold extensive tracts of land, which
neither they nor their children have ever seen. This
is a bad state of things. For, through ignorance of
the quality, the situation, and value of their lands.

120 APPKNDIX.

these persons are sometimes a prey to speculators,
and sometimes, erring on the contrary extreme, they
conceive extravagant notions, and refuse to sell at a
fair price. Hence Agriculture suffers — either the
lands remain a desert, or they are occupied by poor
intruders, who knowing the instability of their title,
are afraid to attempt any valuable improvement.
These people, with few exceptions, lead a wretched
life, and are apt to imbibe sentiments hostile to the
proprietors of the soil, whom they consider as natural
enemies. Could the parties but see each other, very
different feelings might prevail. A little kindness
and condescension on the part of the proprietor might
convert a discontented trespasser, into a useful tenant
or purchaser. That this has happened in many in-
stances, I know ; which induces me to think, that
Avere the trial made, it would happen in many more.
Where large property of this kind, is in the hands
of heads of families with several children, one or two
of the sons might manage the estate to great advan-
tage, by living on the spot. Agents are expensive,
and often unfaithful. But one may confide in his own
blood. Besides, the very circumstance of a well
educated young man residing in any place, will natu-
rally attract others of similar qualifications, to the
same spot ; and thus an agreeable society might be

APPENDIX. 121

formed, anil great encouragement afforded to the la-
bouring poor of the neighbourhood. In this kind of
policy, the State of New- York has set us a good ex-
ample. And the consequences of her conduct are
obvious ; a greater proportion of her lands is settled,
and her unsettled lands, of equal quality, sell for a
higher price than ours. Although the views of our
society are not confined to the limits of the State,
and our earnest wishes are for the prosperity of the
whole, and every part of the Union, yet it may be
considered as our duty to direct our attention more
particularly to Pennsylvania. We cannot be accused
then of acting with ungenerous policy, if we endea-
vour to promote the settlement of our own lands, la
preference to those of our neighbours. We may,
without impropriety, suggest all fair and honourable
arguments, to convince the emigrants from the east-
ern States, and from Europe, that it is their interest
to establish themselves here, rather than seek a resi-
dence in a distant country, to the west or the south.
It is not my intention to enter deeply into this sub-
ject. It might be enough, to suggest to the Society,
the utility of circulating good pamphlets, which have
already been written, or may be written hereafter.
But, one or two leading facts it may not be amiss to
mention. The rich productions of the south, arc not

16

122 - APPENDIX.

to be attained, but by men of considerable capital.
The object is tempting, but when offered to the con-
sideration of emigrants from Europe, or our sister
Stales to the eastward, tliey will remember, that the
climate v/here rice, cotton, tobacco, indigo, and su-
gar flourish, is generally unfavourable to health ; and
that these articles are not to be cultivated to advan-
tage without slaves. They have therefore to engage
in a new kind of life, opposed to the habits and prin-
ciples in which they have been educated, and which,
however flattering the outset, will probably termin-
ate, in an enfeebled body and discontented mind.

But the great class of emigrants, is that of people
who have small capitals, and must seek their bread,
by the labour of their own hands. To such persons,
health is every thing. The languid eye of sickness
dwells without pleasure, on the fairest prospects of
nature. In vain is the fertile bottom, or the rich
prairie, offered to the arm unnerved by disease. It
is a notorious fact, that rich, low, level countries,
are subject to fevers. They should therefore be
shunned by those who are to live by their own la-
bour. Another great inconvenience in those coun-
countries is, that they are badly supplied with water,
cither for drinking or machinery. If, indeed, the
lands in the western region, were extremely cheap.

Al•PE^'DIX. 123

and those in Pennsylvania at a price beyond the
reach of a poor man, he must go to the west from ne-
cessity. IJut that is not the case, — our lands are be-
lieved to be as low priced, as those beyond the Ohio;
and much more so, when tliere is taken into calcula-
tion (as there ought to be) the expense of the journey.
Another important circumstance in our favour, is a
much better market for the sale of our productions,
and the purchase of necessary articles. This is im-
portant at all times, but peculiarly in war, when the
Mississippi, the only inlet or outlet of the whole
western country, may be blockaded by a hostile
fleet.

Speaking of a hostile fleet, we are reminded of the
necessity of a navy of our own, and of Commerce,
without which a navy cannot exist. Let it not be
supposed, that the interests of Agriculture and of
Commerce are at variance. On the contrary, they
are inseparable. Of this the Agriculturists of tlie
United States have had good proof. No persons on
earth have profited more by commerce. During the
long wars of Europe, the staple productions of the
middle States sold at double price, and those of the
southern States were very high, both during the war
and after. Those prices were produced, in part, by
the iuilux of wealtli, \\hich occasioned an increased

124 APPENDIX.

consumption at home, and in part by exportation to
foreign countries, but principally by the latter. Both
causes however, sprang from commerce; and both,
as^long as commerce exists, will continue to operate
in a greater or less degree. Indeed, if we could sup-
pose a nation cut off from all intercourse with other
nations, (that is, from all foreign commerce) that na-
tion, though abounding in all the necessaries of life^
would be barbarous, selfish, illiteral and ignorant.
Neither let us give way to the idea, that either ag-
riculture, or commerce, are incompatible with domes-
tic manufactures. Unwise laws, may injure either
one or the other, by unjust preferences ; but under
proper regulations, they will aid, and invigorate
each other. This is not the place for entering into a
disquisition of the degree of encouragement which
should be afforded by law, to manufactures. That
important subject is before the national legislature,
where it will, no doubt, receive an impartial and ma-
ture consideration. But thus much may be said,
with certainty; that it is the duty as well as the in-
terest, of all of us, to use our owrij in preference to
foreign manufactures, where they can be furnished
on reasonable terms. It cannot be denied, that ma-
nufactures afford a sure market, for the productions
of the neighbouring country; and as they are multi-

APPENDIX. 125

plied, in the same ratio, are the markets increased.
And there is a peculiar advantage in markets of this
kind, at a distance from navigable waters ; that, the
consumption being at liome, the expense of carriage
is saved. But there is a kind of manufacture, do-
mestic in the strictest sensBf the benefit of which is
inestimable; because while it adds to the stock oi the
family, it protects their morals-^1 allude to spinning,
weaving, and such things as are done by the hands
of the husband, the wife, or the children, without
leaving their home. It guards them against idle-
nesSf that child of folly, and parent of vice, and is
often clear gain, as it occupies those hours which
would have been passed in inacLion. I am afraid,
that in this kind of industry, we have rather degen-
erated. A very respectable gentleman, a member of
the Society of Friends, informed me, that about the
year 1764, he attended a meeting in Chester county,
near the borders of Maryland, and that most of his
society in that neighbourhood, were cloathed com-
pletely and handsomely in dress of their own manu-
facture. Were he to visit that meeting now I doubt
whether he would see his friends in the same kind of
apparel. Yet meritorious examples are not wanting,
even now, and 1 hope I shall be excused for men-
tioning one lately communicated to me. In the west-

126 APPENDIX.

ern part of Pennsylvania, on this side of the Alle-
ghany river, lives a man, who, ten or twelve years
ago, seated himself on a tract of land, to which he
had no title, in the humble character of a squatter.*
This man has converted a wilderness into a fine
farm ; and, with the assistance of an industrious wife,
brought up a large family of children. He raises on
his farm, all the materials for clothing the family; and
whatever they wear, of linen or woolen texture, excel-
lent in their kinds, is spun, woven, and manufactured
in the house. They also make their own sugar, from
the maple ; and their own leather : and imrcliase (or
rather barter for) nothing but iron, and salt. Their
farming utensils are chiefly home-made. — But what
is more commendable than all (and perhaps the cause
of all) very little whiskey or ardent sjnritSf is drunk
by any of them. To finish the picture, I have to add,
that the proprietor of the land, with views, no less
'politic, than liberal, has confirmed these good people,
in their title, on moderate terms — so that this little
story contains a moral, from which, both settlers, and
jjroprietors, may profit.

It has been apprehended by some, that the late

* A term in use, in New-York and Pennsylvania, to denote a
man who seats himself on land to which he has no title.

APPENDIX. 127

fall in the price of land, and its productions, would
damp the ardour of cultivators, and deter men of cap-
ital from employing their funds in the purchase of
real property. This apprehension appears to be ill
founded. If the profits of farming have been dimin-
ished, so likewise have the profits of all other business;
so that there is no particular reason for with-holdiug
funds from an investment in land. We are in a state
of distress, which I trust, will be but temporary ; for
the country has great resources, and sufficient knowl-
edge to bring them into action. A stagnation of com-
merce was to be expected, on the cessation of the
wars in Europe.* ]5ut this stagnation is not peculiar
to America — she shares it in common with all the
world — we have indeed, particular distress, arising
from our own errors, on the subject of banks. An
immoderate issue of bank paper, aiforded an unhap-
py facility of borrowing. The money when borrow-
ed, must be made use of in some way — many of the
borrowers, having no good use for it, either trifled it
away, in unnecessary expenses, or in the purchase

* In a letter of the late Presiilent Adams, published since the
delivery of this address, lie says he remembers that the like de-
pression of commerce, manufactures and real estate, took place
after the wars, which ended in 1748, 1763, and 1783.

128 APPENDIX.

of land, which soon rose, nominally, to twice its
value. Such a state of things could not last long —
the delusion is past. It is to be lamented, that many-
good people have been the victims of this infatuation ;
but we must comfort ourselves with the hope, that
some good will result from it, if a cure is not attempted
by rash and violent means. As a people, we had
become too extravagant and too luxurious. The slow
but sure progress of industry was despised. Every
man was in haste to be rich, by some visionary pro-
ject, dignified with the name of speculation. But
we are now suifering for these follies, and by suffering,
we shall be purified, and brought back to better habits.
This will be a lasting good. Instead of desponding
then, let us prosecute our business with increased vi-
gour and economy, and we shall soon find, that al-
though we have fewer paper dollars, we have more
real wealth, and what is of much greater importance,
better morals, and of course more happiness. A large
capital is at present locked up, because the owners
are in doubt how to employ it. When business shall
ilow in decided channels, this capital will be brought
into activity. It is almost certain, that neither com-
merce, nor bank stock will be as profitable as they
liavc been ; so that there is a strong probability of an
investment of a large capital, in real estate, which,

APPENDIX. 129

after all, possesses a stability unknown to any other
kind of property.

But, it is in our own power, to increase the value of
our lands by an improved state of Agriculture. Much
has been done, but much more remains to be done.
Though not at the bottom of the hill, we have not
yet ascended half its height. It maybe encouraging
however to stop for a moment, and take a glance at
the progress we have made. Before the war of the
revolution, little of science w^as blended with the art
of agriculture — things had gone on in their natural
course. The counties first settled, now known by the
names of Philadelphia, Delaware, Chester, Montgom-
ery and Bucks, though not rich (except the meadows)
were sufficient to yield good crops at first, and tolera-
ble ones for a number of years. But the soil near
the surface composed of vegetable substances accumu-
lated during the lapse of ages, became at length ex-
hausted by repeated tillage without refreshment. Red
clover was introduced before the war, but it was pro-
duced in small quantities, and almost solely for the
purpose of hay. The system of melioration by a
rotation of crops, in which grass took its turn, was
not understood. Natural meadow was in great de-
maud, and not much hay being produced on the up-
lands, it was impossible to support during winter,

17

130 APrENDIX.

a stock sufficiently large to amass a great quantity of
manure. Consequently the crops of grain, and par-
ticularly of wheat were mu( h diminished. Indeed,
the wheat crops were trifling. Gypsum had been im-
ported, in small quantities before the revolution ; but
it was very little used, and very little talked of; and
that little not to its credit, for an old proverb, said to
have come from Germany, was brought up against it,
*^ that gypsum made rich fathers but poor sons.'' Not-
withstanding this prejudice, it was brought into gene-
ral use, some years after the war, by the persevering
efforts of a few, and principally of the President of
this Society, to whom future generations will render
thanks for this important service. Through the effi-
cacy of this fossil, the face of the country experienced
a magic change. The uplands were cloathed with
rich herbage, to which succeeded plenteous crops of
grain. I have not been able to trace with certainty,
the progress of the cultivation of clover aided by
gypsum, but I believe, that Philadelphia was the
centre, from which it spread in all directions. In
Chester county, so great were its effects, that (as I
heard it proved in the trial of a cause at West Ches-
ter,) the price of lands was doubled in a few years.
Nor is there any reason to suppose that it was less
beneficial in other places.

APPENDIX. 131

But as the excess of even a good thing may be
peruicious, so may it be with gypsum. That it pro-
motes the growth of many vegetables, and of clover
in particular, is certain ; though its mode of operation
does not seem to be clearly understood. An increased
quantity of grass, will support an increased quantity
of stock, from which will proceed an increased quan-
tity of manure, and that should be considered as the
great end of gypsum. Not that great advantages may
not be derived from ploughing in the green clover.
But if that is relied on, as the only mode of meliora-
ting the soil, (and in some publications which I have
seen, it is asserted to be quite sufficient) we shall pro-
bably be disappointed. In Sir John Sinclair's Code
of Agriculture, it is said that the practice of plough-
ing in green vegetables, as a manure has been tried,
in England, and found not to answer; and that more
benefit is derived from those crops, when they are con-
sumed by stock, and converted into dung ; and Col.
John Taylor (of Caroline county, Virginia) to whose
valuable labours the world is so much indebted, is al-
so of opinion, that we ought not to rely on green veg-
etables only. In the first edition of his Arator, he
seemed to think, that nothing more was necessary
than clover, but in the second edition, he acknow-
ledged his error, which had been demonstrated by

132 APPENDIX.

the result of two crops of Indian corn. In 80 acres
of land, improved by turning in the grass, without
other manure, the crop averaged 25 bushels an acre.
But in 200 acres, where the clover was turned in and
the ground also manured, the average was 50 bushels.
It is probable, indeed, that the ploughing in of clover,
may have a greater effect in many parts of the United
States, than in England. For, that large crops of
grain have been produced by it, is so strongly attested,
that it must not be denied. This may be owing to the
superior eiRcacy of the gypsum, wliich, without doubt,
acts more powerfully here, than generally in England,
and therefore produces a greater quantity of clover.
But, as it is certain, that the manure of dung, incor- •
porated with putrefied vegetable matter, is more effi-
cacious than simple green vegetables ; what I intend,
is to exhort our farmers not to trust to the latter
alone, nor relax their efforts to collect the former in
as great quantities as possible.

Another important circumstance is to be attended
to. We are not to expect, that land will continue to
produce luxuriant crops of clover, for ever, even
when aided by gypsum. — It would be contrary to the
order of nature ; which delights in change. Our
second crop of clover, has, for many years, been of
little value, though the cause remains unexplained. A

APPENDIX. 13S

gentleman of veracity, who lives on the Delavrare,
between eight and ten miles above the city, assured
me, that gypsum, which had done wonders for a long
time, had at length ceased to have any effect on his
land ; and that the same was the case of some of his
neighbours. I am informed also, that the same re-
mark has been made by farmers in Montgomery
county. Now it is not to be supposed, that the gyp-
sum has changed its nature, or lost its virtue. — But
the earth, being exhausted of those particles which
are favourable to the growth of clover, no longer of-
fers to the gypsum the same matter to act upon. That
the matter, necessary for the formation of a particular
plant, may be exhausted, while the same earth suffi-
ces for the vigorous production of other plants, is
proved by daily experience; and is in accordance
with the best theory.

In a late English publication, there is an offer of a
considerable premium to the person who shall discover
a grass which shall be a good substitute for clover, it
being understood, that clover no longer grew as for-
merly ; and of another premium to the person who
shall discover the means of restoring lands, which
once bore clover, to a capacity of producing it again.
It would, therefore, be wise in us, to look out in time,
for some grass, to take the place of clover, when it

134 APPENDIX.

shall be foiiiul no longer to succeetl. In the mean
time, we may avail ourselves (and it may perhaps be
a very long time) of the united efficacy of gypsum and
clover.

I said that we had much to do before we attained
that degree of perfection which was practicable in
agriculture. 1 presume, that our lands, in their natu-
ral state, were full as good as those of England. In
England, the average crops of grain of all kinds, on
8,000,000 of acres, are estimated at twenty-four bush-
els the acre. I take this estimate from Sir John Sin-
clair, who says, moreover, that in ^^ fertile districts
and propitious seasons, from thirty-two to forty bush-
els of wheat an acre, may be confidently expected ;
from forty-tw^o to fifty of barley, from fifty-two to
sixty-four of oats, and from twenty-eight to thirty-two
of beans.'^ The best county in Pennsylvania, is sup-
posed to be Lancaster. The matter cannot be spo-
ken of with any kind of certainty ; but, from the best
information I have been able to collect, 1 should doubt
whether the wJieat crops of the whole county of Lan-
caster, averaged more than fifteen bushels an acre,
though many individual farmers get from twenty to
thirty; and some from thirty to forty. But, when we
compare the agriculture of two countries, we must
take it in large masses. Penu's valley, in Pcnnsyl-

APPENDIX. 135

vania, is supposed to yield crops oUvJwat, averaging at
least twenty bushels an acre; but that is owing to some-
thing peculiar in the climate ; for tlie crops do not ri-
pen in less than two weeks later than in most other
parts of the state. The soil in Penn's valley, is lime-
stone, and the water lies very deep.

There is no doubt, however, that the agriculture
of Pennsylvania is steadily improving, and is at pre-
sent actually improved as highly as that of any State
in the Union. In buildings for agricultural purposes
(perhaps too expensive) she is unrivalled; so that
without being over sanguine, we may promise our-
selves an annual increase in the value of our lands.
How this progress may be quickened, is a question
which this Society should keep constantly in view. —
To devise the means of acceleration, should be their
study. — To the first great step towards general im-
provement, the organization of societies in every part
of the, State, we have done what was in our power,
by petitioning the legislature to take the subject into
consideration, and aid the undertaking with the ne-
cessary funds — Nor is there any reason to doubt of
success; for the legislature is always liberal when
the general interest demands it. The institution of
county societies, with the distribution of premiums,
will be a powerful stimulus to the dormant faculties

136 APPENDIX.

of thousands. The Eastern States, including New=
York, have already made the experiment with suc-
cess ; and I honour them for the example. Our So-
ciety, being situated in the capital, has the best means
of correspondence ; so that we can reciprocate infor-
mation on agricultural subjects, with the different so-
cieties throughout this, and other states, and with
countries beyond the sea. Hence will be collected a
stock of knowledge, which being condensed and me-
thodized, may be offered to the public with great ad-
vantage.

A pattern farm is an object we have long had at
heart, and it is not to be relinquished. But the time
is not come, for carrying our wishes into effect. At
present we have not sufficient funds ; and to incur a
debt, in our corporate capacity, without the means
of payment, would justly dishonour us. But the
want of a pattern farm may be in some measure sup-
plied, by the exertions of members of the society,
who possess farms within a few miles of the city.
Some of them, are blessed with ample means, as
well as inclination, to give a fair trial to every im-
provement which can be rationally suggested, either
in instruments of husbandry, the application of ma-
nures, or the cultivation of new plants, grains, or
grasses.

APPENDIX. 137

We may render ourselves useful, by collectins;
and diffusing the information contained in books re-
cently published in Europe or America. In Europe
tlie principal nobility and gentry are paying due ho-
nours to Agriculture. Chemistry has been called to
her aidj from which important discoveries must re-
sult. Earths, miueials, and manures of all kinds
are analysed. Philosophy is in the right path. Facts
are first ascertained, and then accounted for. The
increased power of magnifying glasses, lays open the
liiddeu parts of plants, and minute animals. Hence
may be discovered the causes and consequently the
cure^ of many disorders by which plants are infest-
ed. Already it is asserted, (I vouch not for the truth
of it) that the disease in wheat called the S7nut, is no
other than a parasite plant, which adhering to the
seed-wheat, grows with it, and may be destroyed by
proper applications, before the seed is sown. Per-
haps some fortunate observer may let us into the na-
ture of that scourge of Agriculture, known by the
name of the Hessian fly, so that we may get rid of it,
as we did of the weavel fly, some forty years ago.
Such a man would deserve a statue of gold, and 1
think the farmers would gladly erect it.

Another point of duty, to which we have not been
wanting, is the importation of such foreign grains,
grasses, and plants, as are suitable to our climate.

18

138 APPENDIX.

Of all the grains which now grow in the middle
States, I recollect none, but maize, (Indian corn)
which is native. Perhaps we have not yet collected
all which might be prolitably cultivated ; and even if
we have, a c4iangc of seed is of great importance.
What wealth has flowed into the southern States,
from cotton, which, thirty years ago, was scarce
known there! Something new is always turning up,
and we should be on the alert, to avail ourselves of it.

The society has heretofore given admonition of the
necessity of change in seed-grain. 1 do not mean
merely the change of one grain for another of a dif-
ferent kind, (as wheat for rye^ &c.) but a change of
seed where there is no change of kind. Farmers do
not seem aware of this necessity, nor of the great ad-
vantage of procuring seed of the very best kind, and
cleaning it in the most perfect manner. Or if they are
aware, they are deterred from paying attention to it,
by a little trouble and a little expense. It w^ould be
well to keep the subject before their eyes, until a con-
viction of its importance shall produce an alteration
of practice.

The importation of foreign animals is not to be ne-
glected. It is not the business of this Society, nor
have they the means of importing them;— but they
may point them out. We have, in Pennsylvania,
good horses ; but in the best breeds of cattle, hogs and

APPliNDIX.. 139

sheep, we are defective. I know Uiat some enterpri-
sing gentlemen in the city, have gone to great ex-
pense in importing cattle, and others arc in posses-
sion of excellent breeds of hogs, but they arc not yet
diffused throughout the State. It is understood, that
in the eastern States no pains or expense have been
spared, in procuring animals of the finest shape and
quality. But it may be some time, before they have
a surplus for exportation.

We are well situated for obtaining models of all
newly invented implements of husbandry. Our work-
men are ingenious, and able to execute any thing
which is planned for them; and the genius of our
countrymen in the application of the mechanic pow-
ers, is conspicuous. Tiie higli price of labour, ren-
ders its abridgement of primary importance. What
wonderful effects have been produced by Whitney's
cotton gin? We are well supplied with implements for
breaking the earth, and for cutting all kinds of straw,
and cheap machines for shelling Indian corn. But a
machine effectual for the threshing of wheat, and
not too high-priced, is a desideratum. The machine
for dressing flax, of British invention, is said to be a
very great improvement, but is not yet much in use
among us.

Roads, bridges, canals, and all ii»terual public im-
provements, are subjects, which though not vfithin

140

APPENDIX.

our control, have such an immediate bearing on Ag-
riculture, by expediting and cheapening carriage, that
it will be always proper to do what little is in our
power, for their success. Works of such magnitude
are net to be executed, without the combined exer-
tions of many persons, sanctioned by the authority of
the legislature, and assisted by the public purse. Our
legislature has done nobly for roads and bridges, and
we trust it will do the same for canals. The first
great object of that kind, is the junction of the wa-
ters of the Susquehanna and the Schuylkill, which
empties into tlie Delaware. That being accomplish-
ed, we may look westward to the waters of the Alle-
ghany, and northward to the Seneca lake, which
being once entered, and entered it may be with no
great difficulty, we have the Delaware connected with
the great northern lakes, by means of tlie magnifi-
cent work now in rapid progress, in the State of
New- York. The project is grand; — I may not live
to see it executed, jci it is by no means so improba-
ble as many things once appeared, which in my time
have been accomplished.

Yet, it must be confessed, that in canals, we lin-
ger behind other States, who have boldly led the
way. Except the works now carrying on, for the im-
provement of the navigation on the Schuylkill and the
Jieiiigh, wc have nothing to sliow but the Conewago

APPENDIX.

141

canal of a single mile, -svhich will be of little use, un-
less the Susquehanna and Delaware are united. Our
tardiness may be accounted for. Five and twenty
years ago, w hen the Couewago canal was begun, pub-
lic spirit mounted perhaps too high. Great efforts
were made, which from causes not necessary now to
mention, proved abortive. — Hence, a despondence ou
the subject of canals, from which we have scarce yet
recovered. But it is high time to rouse ourselves.
On the one side we have New- York making great and
successful exertions; ou the other, Maryland, endea-
vouring to avail herself of the road, made at the ex-
pense of the United States, from Cumberland, on the
Potowmac, to Wheeling, on the Ohio ; on which
waggons travel free from toll. But if we can have
water carriage from Philadelphia to Susquehanna,
we shall be on a better footing than Baltimore: and
preserve our w^agon carriage to Pittsburgh until the
Susquehanna shall be joined to the Alleghany. This
wagon carriage is of immense importance. It has
been supposed, that between Philadelphia and Pitts-
burg, the yearly sum paid for carriage, amounted to
730,000 dollars. Nor is this the only consideration.
A very great sum is expended all along the line of
the turnpike road, which is diliused through the
country to a considerable distance. A six horse
wagon cousumcs five bushels of oats a day, besides

142 APPENDIX.

hay. Now, it appears from an official return,
made by the keeper of the turnpike gate, at the
Chesuut liidge, between Stoys Town, and Greens-
burg, that there passed through that gate, during the
year ending May, 1818 5 among other things, 281
four-horse, 2412 five-horse, and 2698 six-horse teams ;
and it is said, that a gentleman, living on the road
near Pittsburg, in the year 1813, counted the number
of w^agons, laden with merchandise, which passed
his house that year, and that they amounted 4055.
Through the counties of Eedford and Somerset, the
road being generally on ridges, runs through a poor
country, to which the market aiforded by the wag-
ons, is essential. Somerset abounds in grass ; and
for oats is superior to any county in the state. — But
the soil is not favourable to wheat ; and, except in
tlie southern part, Indian corn will scarce arrive at
maturity. It appears, clearly, therefore, that the
Agriculture of Pennsylvania is very much interested
even in parts far west of the Susquehanna, in a wa-
ter communication between that river and the Del-
aware, as the most effectual means of preserving the
land carriage to Pittsburg. Another weighty consid-
eration is, the protection which ought to be afforded
to Pittsburg, against the effect of the United States'
turnpike from Cumberland to Wheeling. Pittsburg
ought to be to the western part of the slate, what

APPENDIX. 143

Philadelphia is to the eastern: the reservoir of wealth
sufficient to afibrd a market to the surrounding coun-
try. There is no rivalsliip between these cities. The
prosperity of one promotes the prosperity of the other.
Why then should we hesitate? New York has com-
pleted 120 miles of canal in less than two years and
five months. By a line of less than half that
length, tlic Delaware and Susquehanna are united.
Pennsylvania has been accused of want of atten-
tion to gardening, and I am afraid she must plead
guilty to the charge. A good kitchen garden contri-
butes much to the health, and even the elegance of
Jife ; the saving of meat makes it a source of econo-
my, and the neatness which ia necessary to keep it
in order, may have an eflect on the manners of the
family. The females might execute a good deal of
the work, and for their sake it should be interspersed
with flowers. I believe my feelings are not at all
singular, and 1 declare that 1 am struck with a sen-
sation of pleasure, at the siglit of a flourishing, well
inclosed garden. May 1 be allowed to add that 1 have
the same feelings, at the sight of a neat inclosure
in front of the dwelling house, separating it from the
highway. With surprise and regret, 1 perceive this
often neglected, by wealthy and liberal farmers, mere-
ly because they have been in the habit of living with-
out it. Such things might be remedied at a very tri-

144 APPENDIX.

fling expense^ but they are of no trifling consequence.
They have an influence on manners.

I say nothing on the subject of hedges, their im-
l)ortance, and the best mode of raising them have
been fully shown by one of our Vice Presidents., on
a former occasion.

I'^he limits of this discourse confine me to hints* on
subjects which merit treatises. May not means be
taken to tincture the youthful mind;, with the spirit of
Agriculture.? In colleges, natural philosophy and
chemistry might sometimes be directed to that special
purpose. But something may be done at an earlier
age; particularly where opportunities are offered, in
teaching the learned languages, which being acquired
slowly and with difficulty, leave lasting impressions ;
for instance, besides the Georgics of Virgil, which
are in general use, select passages might be read from
Columella, one of the most ancient writers on rural
affairs, which have reached us, in tlie Latin tongue.
I am afraid mischief is done, by putting into the
hands of boys, those finished models of Grecian and
Roman eloquence, in which are painted, in too vivid
colours, the pleasures of wine, and love, and the
glory of war.

Having touclied the subject of education, I will add,
that when the benevolent intention of the constitution
of Pennsylvania, shall be carried into effect, by

Al'l'liNDIX. 145

^Hhe establishment of schools throm^hoiit the state, in
such manner, that the poor maij he taught gratisJ^
Agriculture will reap her full share of the benefit.
Reading, writing, and common arithmetic, if not es-
sential, arc very serviceable to the farmer. And even
the labourer will derive incalculable advantage from
the improvement of his intellectual faculties. Work
cannot be continued without intermission, and time
hangs heavy on the mind which is torpid during the
hours of repose. Exercise is as necessary to the
mind as the body. How desirable then, that men
should be qualified for that kind of reading, which
gratifies and strengthens the mind, without the fatigue
of severe study, while the body is at rest during the
intervals of labour? Our legislature is not unmindful
of the duty imposed by the constitution — the act *^to
provide for the education of children at the public
expense within the city and county of Philadelphia,"
is working great good. By the first annual report of
the controllers of these schools, made in February
last, it appears that 2,845 children were then in a
course of education ; and I am informed that the num-
ber is now much increased. Moreover, a most im-
portant fact is established — that by adopting the Lan-
casterian mode of teaching, which will do in all
thickly settled districts, the annual expense will not

exceed /oHT dollars for earh child. Upon eflbrts like

19

146 APPENDIX.

these the blessing of God may be confidently hoped
for. Nothing can be more effectual for the diffusion
of the spirit of Christianity, than a moderate cultiva-
tion of the understanding. Men will thus become
more mild, better content with the condition in which
Providence has placed them, more attentive to their
duties both moral and religious, more charitable tow-
ards each other, less jealous and vindictive in their
feelings towards foreign nations, less prone to rapine,
under whatever name disguised, and less easily daz-
zled by the false splendour of war. But I must in-
dulge myself on this topic no longer, lest it seduce me
from my main design.

Closely connected with Agriculture is the subject
of leases. Though not so important iu the United
States^ as in other countries, because the body of ten-
antry is smaller here, yet it is not undeserving of at-
tention. The leases generally in use, are for a short
term, with a reservation, by way of rent, of a certain
share of the produce of the land. This system is li-
able to two great objections. The shortness of the
tenure, precludes all hope of improvement of the soil,
and the mode of payment, (the rendering a share of
the crop.) holds out inducements to fraud, which few
tenants are able to resist. When the landlord lives
upon the estate, he has some chance of checking the
tenant, by obtaining an accurate knowledge of the

APPENDIX. 147

amount of the crop; and if he is liberal, he may have
something done in the way of improvement. But
where he lives at a distance, the probability is, that
the estate will go to ruin, while he receives but a
small part of his due. The objections to long leases,
for rents in money, are, that if the landlord parts with
the possession for a long time, he may be injured by i\
bad tenant; that he precludes himself from thechancii
of a sale, if a good price should be offered, and that
the great iiuctuations in the price of grain, make it
impossible to fix a rent in money, without danger to
both parties. Where a man has it in view to sell his
estate, he may be right in making a short lease; that
case forms an exception to the general rule. But
where he means to keep it, the objection is removed ;
then, as to fluctuation of price, the matter might be
easily managed, by reserving a rent of a certain quan-
tity of grain, giving the tenant an election to pay the
market price in money, which might be more conve-
nient thau delivering the grain. That point being
settled, a lease for a longer term, fixing the rotation
in which the fields should be cultivated, with other
proper covenants, would leave the landlord sufficient-
ly protected, while it gave the tenant encouragement
to meliorate the soil for his own interest. At the end
of such a lease, the value of the estate would be in-
creased, and the rent might be raised. With great

14S X APPENDIX.

tleferenne 1 submit llipso, remarks to gentlemen of the
city, wlio liave farms at some distance, or even in the
iieighbourhoodj which are intended as a provision for
their families.

One thing more remains^ which I cannot in con-
science pass by, and in which, perhaps the Society
may find means to do some good. Can no method be
devised to check the inordinate use of spirituous li-
quors ? This shocking habit strikes at the root of ag-
ricultuiH?, by robbing it of the labour necessary for
its support. It would be a waste of time, to enume-
rate the ills which flow from this disgraceful vice,
because they are obvious to every one. Perhaps a
small addition to the wages, would induce labourers
to forego the use of this poisonous liquid ; or they
might consent to take as a substitute, beer, or cider,
or some other harmless drink. The subject deserves
the deepest consideration, and 1 cannot help hoping,
tiiat w !ien Societies shall be organized in the several
counties, a plan may be formed, which being acted
upon at once, throughout the state, may greatly les-
sen, if not eradicate the evil.

I Jiave endeavoured, gentlemen, to obey your com-
mands, in hopes that my example may call forth the
oiVorls of others, hotter (jualified to do justice to the

■\\IV. KM). ■