found for his years. His acquaintance with the Latin, in particular, was surpassed by that of very few scholars of the present day. For he spoke and wrote that noble language with correctness, fluency, and classical elegance.

But our young philosopher's love of science, and the intensity of his application to severer studies, did not render him either indifferent or inattentive to personal and polite accomplishments. Hence his attainments in painting, music, dancing, fencing, and horsemanship, though not of the very highest order, were amply sufficient for the amateur and the gentleman. The wide and variegated range of his acquirements qualified him no less for a man of the world, than a man of letters. For he early learned the pleasing and invaluable, though difficult art, of blending together study and amusement, the labours of the closet with the glitter of the drawing-room, or the pleasures of the social circle, without suffering the one unduly or injuriously to encroach on the other. In all his studies, as well as in all his more active pursuits, he made the utile et dulce blend and harmonize in a manner equally rare and attractive.

Having finished his elementary education, he took leave of college, bearing along with him the fairest academical honours, mingied with the love and esteem of his fellow-students and preceptors. Though the heir, in expectancy, of an ample fortune, and, therefore, able to pass his time in the lap of affluence and literary ease, yet to live without being actively useful to society, did not comport with his ideas of duty. A rigid practical moralist, he deemed himself bound by an irrevocable obligation to devote to the good of his fellow men those talents and acquirements, of which nature and education had given him the command. He accordingly determined to qualify himself for some professional pursuit, and, by a kind of elective attraction, his choice was fixed on the profession of medicine.

The first part of his medical pupilage, which commenced about the year 1790, was spent under the direction of Dr. Brown of Baltimore, a physician conspicuous alike for talents, learning, and practical eminence. In this situation young Drysdale continued, the favourite pupil of an able preceptor, till the winter of 1792-3, when he repaired to Philadelphia to prosecute his studies in the University of Pennsylvania.

In the medical school which contained at that time about one hundred and twenty young gentlemen, assembled from the different states of the union, he was not long in attaining his usual distinction. In point of genius, application, and general science, he was acknowledged to rank with the foremost pupils of the institution. For classical learning he had scarcely an equal. To these excellencies of intellect he

added an exterior so engaging, an address so insinuating, and manners so mild, polished, and graceful, that he soon attracted the notice and regard of the medical professors, and won the respect and esteem of all his fellow-students to whom he became known. To the former he conducted himself as a pupil of exemplary deportment and ample promise, and to the latter he was a pleasing and instructive companion'.

But it was in the several societies attached to the school of medicine, that his reputation attained its most elevated standing. Here the quickness of his penetration, and the extent of his knowledge, united to strong argumentative powers, and an easy, fascinating flow of eloquence in debate, shone with a lustre peculiar to himself. They might be almost said to have formed a kind of epoch in the societies, and constituted a solid basis for that influence and ascendency, which he soon acquired over the minds of most of his fellow-members.

He continued his studies in the University of Pennsylvania, till the spring of 1794, when he was admitted to the degree of doctor of medicine. On this occasion, as on every former one, he was perfectly himself, losing nothing of that character as a scholar and philosopher, which it had been hitherto his pride and his fortune to maintain. The functions and diseases of the liver constituted the subject of his inaugural dissertation, which was written in chaste and classical Latin. I add, with much regret, that it was one of the last theses clothed in that learned and noble language, that has issued from the medical school of Philadelphia. Though it might be too much to assert that this circumstance alone marks a degeneracy of learning in the school, yet no one will contend that it is, in any measure, honourable to it. When literary and professional honours are rendered so cheap as to be within the reach of every capacity, Genius, Industry, and Learning being placed on the same humiliating level with Stupidity and Ignorance, are robbed of their fairest and most grateful reward.

Soon after his investment with the honours of his profession, Dr. Drysdale returned to Baltimore, which the attachments of his youth, and the solicitations of friendship induced him to contemplate as the place of his future residence. Happy for himself-happier still for his friends and country had he returned alone! but this, alas! was not the case; for he carried with him, as an inmate of his bosom, the foe that was destined ere long to destroy him-a foe inexorable in his rage, unerring in his aim, and, like Death, as described by the poet, too often inclined to select as his victim, 66 a shining mark."

In the course of the preceding autumn, Dr. Drysdale had experienced a severe attack of hemopthisis, from which he never entirely recovered. A slight but dry and obstinate cough, accompanied by an

occasional hectic on his cheek, betrayed to his friends the lurking mischief. Every one but himself was alarmed for his safety, and he was frequently urged to measures of precaution. The writer of this article has himself spent hours in pressing remonstrances on the subject. But all was to no purpose. The destined victim of disease, more intent on the acquisition of knowledge, than on the preservation or regaining of his own health, persevered in his ardent career of study, wholly regardless, perhaps unconscious of the impending danger. For one of the well known characters of pulmonary consumption is, that the unhappy sufferer is himself the last to admit that his situation is perilous.

Soon after his return to Baltimore, Dr. Drysdale became possessed of the inheritance he had long expected, by the death of his friend and patron, Dr. Dorling. But it was not in the power of wealth to change his Roman ideas of duty, or to shake those principles which he had long since adopted for the regulation of his conduct. Though his system was now evidently too much shattered, and his health too infirm, to admit of his encountering the fatigues of his profession, yet his active and enterprizing spirit, coöperating with his sense of moral obligation, would not suffer him to waste his time in idleness. He accordingly invested a large sum of money in an institution for the manufacturing of salt from the waters of the Chesapeake. Of this institution he became the principal director, an undertaking for which he was amply qualified, from his accurate and extensive knowledge of chymistry.

But his exertions and services in this new and patriotic establishment, were destined to be of transient duration. The pulmonary affection under which he had so long laboured, advancing now with an accelerated pace, became alarming even to himself. Having hitherto made its approaches only by sap, it seemed determined at length to carry the fortress by a coup de main. Nor were all the powers of medicine able to frustrate its deadly purposes, or even to stay the period of their accomplishment. So rapid was now the progress of the ́disease, and so irresistible its fatal course, that in a few weeks its amiable victim was confined to his bed, and, in a few more, consigned to the grave a grave where neither briar, nettle, nor noxious weed can ever spring; so mild, so inoffensive is the dust it contains-green be the sod that forms its covering, gentle and fragrant the breezes that fan it, far from the spot be the footsteps of the unfeeling, and may the dewdrops of heaven that nightly bespangle it, be pure as the spirit that once animated its sacred deposit!

As a belles lettres scholar, Dr. Drysdale held a very elevated standing for his age. Though he died in his twenty-third year, his knowledge of polite literature was extensive, profound, and critically

accurate. This was more particularly the case with regard to the poets, both ancient and modern. From the first opening of his intellect, he had regularly devoted a portion of his leisure hours to the cultivation of an acquaintance with these favourites of the Muses. Nor was he himself a stranger to the haunts of Parnassus, and the inspiring waters of the Castalian fount. While a student of medicine in the University of Pennsylvania, the public was indebted to his pen for some of the most brilliant and beautiful little effusions, that have ever adorned our periodical prints. A genuine son and favourite of Fancy, his were emphatically the " thoughts that breathe and words that burn." Nor was he destitute of the talent for arranging those thoughts and words in a manner and style attuned to harmony and true to

nature.

As a prose writer his style was copious and forcible, correct and elegant. His largest and most elaborate work consisted of an extensive series of letters to Dr. Rush, descriptive of the yellow fever as it prevailed in Baltimore, in the year 1794. These letters alone contain matter amply sufficient to establish the truth of all that has been advanced in this article respecting the talents and acquirements of the deceased. They were written but a short time previously to his death, and from the feebleness of his frame at the time, and the labour attendant on a composition so voluminous, it is probable they contributed to hasten that melancholy event.

Accept, departed shade of the most mild and amiable of menaccept this humble and imperfect tribute from one who was honoured with thy friendship while living, who mourned thy death with the sorrows of a brother, and who now begs forgiveness for having so long neglected to tell the world thy artless story!

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

MEMOIRS OF HAYTI-LETTER VIII.

The Cape, Island of Hayti, April 1804.

AMONG those who attempted to make their escape from the island, some were detected, of which I shall relate a few instances. One evening in February I was sitting near the door of a house on the quay, a short distance from the wharf. An American captain came running in, very much agitated, and, in a voice almost suppressed by fright, tremblingly asked me to lend him a dollar. I suspected that he had fallen into some difficulty, and instantly gave him one, when he hastened away. When I afterwards saw him, he informed me, that in company with a friend, in the attempt of taking a French lady to the wharf, to convey her on board an American vessel, he had been seized by the guard, and, finding no means of escaping from the alarming situation in which they were placed, unless bribery would do it, he had made propositions. The soldiers fortunately accepted the money, and permitted the lady to embark in a boat, in which she was conveyed to an American vessel, and concealed. A short time after this a vessel was to sail. Mr. W, an English gentleman, engaged his passage on board of her. The lady was under his protection, and was removed to another vessel that was at anchor very near to the one which was intended to sail. He watched his opportunity, and, as soon as the guard who had been visiting the departing vessel to search for passengers had left her, on their return to the shore, he took the lady in a boat and carried her on board. Unfortunately, however, Henry, who was that day, in the absence of the commandant, the officer of the searching guard, discovered the affair, and immediately returned to the vessel. The generous Mr. W-, had only time to jump into a boat, and save himself by rowing to a British frigate which was just then on her way out of the port, leaving his unprotected charge to the mercy of her enemies. The lady was seized by the soldiers, whose savage looks proclaimed them to be assassins, carried to shore, and thence to the house of Christophe, where she was examined by the general, and ordered to a dungeon. The infernal ministers of vengeance were about to obey the mandates of their chief, when Henry stepped forward, and expressed himself in the following humane and feeling language: “General, you have often promised that you would one day grant me some particular favour; I now request that you will pardon this lady. In apprehending her I did but my duty; but I do not think her deserving of punishment." Christophe complied, and the wretched lady was dis