proprieties which should regulate the intercourse of gentlemen. A leading journal said at the time, that this speech would be read by millions, and as a proof of its merit we mention the fact, that one hundred thousand copies were printed by his friends for circulation. Mr. Brooks now published a card to his constituents, which bears date July 18th, and in it he states briefly the reasons which caused his resignation. By proclamation, the Governor ordered a new election, and he was returned by a unanimous vote on July 28th; his whole course thus receiving the hearty approval of his constituents.

The next event which we have to note is the presentment of Mr. Brooks by the Grand Jury of the district, for his assault upon Mr. Sumner. Mr. S. appeared before the jury, notwithstanding the terrible wounds from which he has not yet recovered, and gave testimony. We do not complain of this trial of Mr. Brooks; we are law-abiding men, and have no objection to judicial investigation; but we are struck by the singularity of the fact, that Mr.. Sumner's health is always good enough to allow him to be the leader in any proceedings against Mr. Brooks. The truth is, that though decently flogged, he had, from the beginning, exaggerated his injuries, and it is in testimony that he might have gone to his duties on the next day. We mean that his wounds were not of such a nature as to forbid it. But there were other reasons, and two of these we discern very clearly. First, he had a political motive. He was ambitious to display himself as the great expounder of abolition opinion, as a martyr in a holy cause; and by his sacrifices and his sufferings, he hoped to infuse new ardour in the bosoms of his party. Second, there were moral causes in the way. He was the victim of childish fears, of alarm, of panic. He was afraid of Brooks; he knew not what might be done when he next fixed his eyes upon him. It may be that he thought he would be murdered. The most dreadful spectres, the most revolting phantoms danced before his distempered imagination. Truly might he exclaim in the language of an ancient poet, with whom he professes familiarity,

"Before my sad presaging soul,

What scenes of imaged horror roll."

There is then cause for pity as well as blame, and undeserving as he is, we are willing that he have the benefit of a small share of our charity.*

* Since the above was written, Mr. Sumner has taken his seat in the Senate. The recovery took place at the very moment when the telegraphic wires carried to Boston the news of the death of Mr. Brooks. Wonderful coincidence! See below.

Mr. S. has, at last, gone to Europe. He is determined to have an ovation on the other side of the waters, and soon the welkin will ring with the peans of negro philanthropy.

The trial of Mr. Brooks was regarded by his friends and the public at large with unusual interest. On July 8th, he appeared before Judge Crawford to answer to the charge of assault upon Senator Sumner.* He was accompanied by Senator Butler, and a number of other friends. The case was made out; Mr. Brooks offered no evidence in defence; he appeared simply to receive the judgement of the court. We are bold to say that the speech which he addressed to the court on that occasion, is a model of its kind. There has been but one opinion expressed concerning it. It is noble, elevated, commanding. The spirit is the spirit of the man throughout; there is no truckling, no humble appeals for the tender mercies of the judge. He appears as one who feels that the honour of his State and his kindred has been outraged, and he insists that with a heart to feel, and an arm to strike, he will not, under such circumstances, patiently hear and ignobly submit. "Sir," says he, "the substance which I have been gathering for my children may be squandered; my body may be confined to the common gaol; my life itself may be forfeited; but I will be true to the instincts of my nature; true to the home of my maturity, and to the mother that bore me." The glory of the law is vindicated; a glory which rests upon the eternal principles of reason and justice. He bows willingly and gracefully to its majesty and supremacy, and declares that the high moral and social obligation of obedience was the first political lesson which his ripening faculties comprehended and appreciated. "I submit," says he, "my case to the discretion of the court with entire confidence, that while you, sir, as a magistrate, perform your whole duty to the country and yourself, you will remember that in every regulated community, public opinion distinguishes between crime and honourable resentment, and tolerates the refuge which men sometimes seek in the magnanimity of their judges."

Mr. Brooks was fortunate in having as his judge, a man of high honour, and noble impulses. The appeal was resistless; there was no criminal at the bar; the law asked not for vengeance, and its majesty would be vindicated by a formal punishment. The judge therefore pronounced as his sentence, without comment, that the defendant pay a fine of three hundred dollars. His constituents asked to pay it, and he consented.

Upon the adjournment of Congress, Mr. Brooks came to his home in Carolina, and was greeted by the people of the State with an enthusiasm which has never been surpassed. Never were there higher demonstrations of love and admiration. His immediate constituency honoured him by a public dinner at the village of Ninety-Six, at which some of the distinguished men of the nation

*The fact is worthy of note that Mr. Sumner did not appear, and the reason for it is apparent to every unprejudiced mind.

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from other States were present. His name had now reached nearly every fireside of the land, his fame was co-extensive with the country, and honours were poured in richest profusion upon him. During this period we spent some time in intimate companionship with him. His head was not turned by the glittering bauble; he received with gratitude the spontaneous offerings of his fellow citizens, but often did he assure us that they produced a feeling of unworthiness and humility. At the regular term in October, he was re-elected to Congress, and left for Washington at the close of November. On the 17th of December, he made his last speech, on the question of referring the President's Message to a Committee of the Whole on the State of the Union. Of this effort, which is much enhanced in interest because it was made not long before his death, we will say a word. When we remark, that it fully sustains his previous reputation, we think there can be no difference of opinion; but there are those who regard it as superior to any former production. Whether this be so, we are not concerned about discussing. It is a commentary upon the Nebraska and Kansas Bill, and a masterly defence of it, as understood and interpreted by him. It is marked by all the characteristics of his previous efforts. It exhibits a thorough knowlege of his subject, is methodical in its arrangement, and distinguished by high powers of reasoning and argument. It is with a feeling of melancholy, that we dwell upon it. The voice of the gifted speaker shall be heard no longer in the public councils, its eloquent and stirring notes are hushed forever. But we forbear.

We have now concluded our notice of Mr. Brooks, as a public speaker; it may not be amiss, however, to express with more distinctness than we have done, but with great brevity, our impressions of the character of his mind, and of his particular qualifications. His chief power lay in his strong, common sense. He could perceive the leading points of a question, and was able to estimate their relative importance. He never took a weak position, and strongly fortified as he was, he could, like a skilful general, withstand any assault, however sudden and vigorous. And, to continue the figure, he marshaled his forces well, and made the whole tell with the best effect. There was no jumbling together of things which had no affinity, no vile mixture, no confusion; but he was gifted with nice powers of discernment. His mind, too, had quickness, as well as penetration. It was always active, never still. He took interest in every thing around him. He could pass with great facility from one subject to another, however different in character, but in each exhibited his wonted ardor and enthusiasm. Though not wanting in a reasonable knowledge of books, yet he preferred thinking to reading; and his speeches therefore, show no great indebtedness to others. His mind then, may be pronounced original. He was not much addicted to pure, abstract speculation; he

preferred rather to look at truth in its application to the wants and necessities of man. The wonderful power of impressing himself upon others, belonged preeminently to M. Brooks. He was so earnest, so sincere, so full of enthusiasm, that few could resist the influence of his spirit, and in this respect he might be pronounced almost the equal of the dervise in the fairy tale, who could transfuse his own soul into the body of any one whom he might select. He was gifted with remarkable penetration in the perception of character. He had studied the breathing, living, moving man, not the mere abstraction, the marble statue. Life to him, had been a checkered scene; few had seen it in more of its phases; men had appeared before him in their various characters; he was no common observer, and had marked well the parts which they acted. One of the most striking features of the man, was his strong will. It was tempered by amiability; it was not obstinacy, not the want of reason. It was the calm determination to carry out whatever his judgement and sense of duty commanded. Then nothing could arrest him. Perils and difficulties were as straws. He rather gloried in them, and disdained to take

"spoils without toil or danger."

Never have we known one under these circumstances, with a more iron will, and seldom indeed, did he fail of his purpose. Foster in his "Essays on Decision of Character" remarks, that there is something in persons who are remarkable for the stability of their resolution and the energy of their native tendencies, which, like the ligatures applied to one class of the Olympic combatants, compresses the mind, and gives to it a steady, forcible spring, and re-action. There can be no genius, no power, no greatness, without sympathy. It is impossible for the man of cold heart, of passionless nature, to estimate the feelings by which men are governed, and to discern their motives to action. The common affections, the common nature, the catholic humanity, bind men together. Sympathy is one of our highest pleasures. "How disagreeable does he appear to be, whose hard and obdurate heart feels for himself only, but is altogether insensible to the happiness or misery of others!" This noble passion was a striking feature in the mental constitution of Mr. Brooks. It was a living, moving principle. He was not a man of retirement, but of action. None of his virtues were passive. He was not satisfied with good intentions. He felt that he was born into a world where he had a work to perform; that the expression of the noblest sentiments, without the merit of good offices, would not give him the approbation of his own conscience, or entitle him to the praise of his fellow-man. He was no believer in latent virtue, and accordingly directed all his energies to the accomplishment of worthy and useful ends. He thought that men were to be rewarded and esteemed in this life, only for

what they have performed; and that society, however much it might respect, owed nothing to the man who could not point to some act of important service. "I cannot praise," says Milton, "a fugitive and cloistered virtue unexercised, and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat." In a previous part of this article, we have expressed the opinion that Mr. Brooks had those qualities of intellect which would have given him distinction in the legal profession. We know that the fields of the lawyer, and the Parliamentary leader or statesman, are very different; that eminence in one does not insure success in the other. Lord Campbell in his life of Erskine has dwelt earnestly upon this, and though both, he concedes, afford fine occasions for the display of the mens divinior, yet he conceives that forensic proceedings give greater advantages, and that they are signalized by more recorded triumphs of genius. We are not prepared to assent to this conclusion. His Lordship is a lawyer, and it is most natural that he should glory in his profession. The statesman has an infinitely larger field; it is not hemmed in by the narrow bounds of individuals. The questions are of momentous interest; they embrace a whole people, a nation, a world. They have a grandeur and magnitude which amount to sublimity, and what can more stimulate the intellect, or call into energetic action, its highest and noblest powers! It is a clear assumption on the part of his Lordship that England will produce another Pitt, Sheridan, Fox, and Burke, before she will another Erskine. She furnishes a long roll of great lawyers, but who is to be added to the illustrious list of statesmen, whose names we have just given! We may be mistaken in what we have said of Mr. Brooks, but whatever may be the truth, we will not admit that the intellectual glory of the statesman is bedimmed by the brighter effulgence of the lawyer. Nor was his mind deficient in the poetic and imaginative element. It was his taste, however, to disguise it from the public gaze, and to indulge it in his own silent and solitary communions. His style was truly the dress of his thoughts; with him it might indeed, be said, "that the style is the man." It was clear, perspicuous, simple, elegant, forcible, and free from all meretricious ornament. There was no ambiguity, no indirectness; all understood, all comprehended. In the language of a great orator and accomplished writer of our own country on another occasion, which we have taken the liberty of somewhat altering, he had no taste for artificial speech as such; on the contrary, ease, simplicity, and nature, were rigorously pursued. He had not that fluency, too common in our country, which would enable one to talk all day about nothing; the circulatoria volubilitas of an eminent ancient critic. But words were at his ready command to express his ideas; then he was rich in speech, and rose to great propriety, and