Remains of Samuel Bartlett Parris, M. D. : comprising miscellaneous poems and essays, selected from his manuscripts; with a biographical sketch of the author

Front matter

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Preface

This volume is the production of a youth, who had scarce exceeded the age of minority, before death put a period to his labors. It is collected from the numerous manuscripts which he left at his death. These manuscripts were written at different periods of his life. The reader will not, therefore, expect to find, on every page, the productions of a matured mind. Some of them were composed at a very early age, and are published as specimens of his youthful acquirements. The most of them were written, as the reader will perceive by the dates, between the age of twelve and eighteen. During his short life the author wrote much ; and the large collection of his manuscripts remains as a monument of his talents and industry. They were found after his death, concealed in his trunks — but few of them had ever been seen by even his nearest friends. They were written, probably, for his own pleasure and improvement, and without the most distant intention of publishing.

Copies of some of these compositions have been circulated among his friends since his death. They have uniformly expressed their approbation, and anxiously desired a publication of his writings, with some account of his life. They desire some memorial of a beloved associate. Some relick of a departed friend — some remembrancer to keep alive the recollections of his person and character —

IV PREFACE.

is always dear, and cherished with a sacred regard by the survivors. What is better adapted to such a purpose, than a copy of his productions — a faithful record of his mind and heart — of his thoughts and feelings, written with his own hand ? Such a record is furnished in the following pages. These are all that now remain of one of whom so much was justly expected, and of whom, if life had been spared, so much would doubtless have been realized. No better token, then, can be offered as a keep-sake.

The work has been published by subscription, to give those of his numerous friends, who desired, an opportunity of obtaining a copy. It was at first intended to furnish only the number of copies subscribed for ; but the proposals were distributed so short a time before the commencement of the publication, that there are probably many whose names are not on the list of subscribers, that will wish to purchase the volume. An edition, exceeding the number of subscribers, has, therefore, been published, and distributed at various book-stores, to afford to all his friends an opportunity of procuring the work, and to others, who feel a curiosity to become acquainted with the productions of a youthful genius. Since the proposals were announced, not only his acquaintance, but the public in general have manifested an unexpected interest in the work, and given many consoling proofs of their regard for the lamented author.

This volume is similar to many of those which are published under the title of Remains — like them consisting of a collection from the manuscripts which were left by their authors in an unfinished state. It is published under all the difficulties and disadvantages which necessarily attend posthumous publications — the author is not present to ex-

PREFACE, plain, alter or amend. It must be expected, then, that there will unavoidably be some defects or errors, which the author himself might have prevented.

The different poems in this volume, as well as different parts of the same poem, possess different degrees of merit. Some passages, in particular, which could not be omitted without destroying the connexion, will be found of unequal merit. The subjects of some of these descriptions, however, do not admit of poetic embellishment — such as his description of the labors and duties of professional life. In such parts the style is plain and unadorned, as simple narration or historical description always should be. In his poems will be found none of that mysticism, and that affected sentimentality, which has been the passion of the age. There is no attempt to excite the attention by extravagant opinions — to interest the feelings by shocking the understanding and the heart. In this volume his acquaintances will possess a faint but true image of the mind and heart of him whom they so highly respected and so warmly loved. His real character is here exhibited. The sentiments which are contained in these pages, are those which always guided his conduct in life. If the reader is not instructed by the deep lessons of wisdom, the inventions of philosophy, or the experience of age, he will not be in danger of being misled by vicious example, corrupted by impure sentiment, or allured by the light of false opinion. He will behold here an unsullied page— unstained by any indelicate image or indecent language ; for his moral character was in conformity with his intellectual. The rays of knowledge which enlightened his mind, at the same time warmed his heart.

Such a selection has been made as would exhibit a fair 2*

VI

PREFACE.

specimen of the author's compositions at different periods, and at the same time give a variety to the work. His two medical Dissertations have been included in this collec- Is tion, which may not please the taste of all, though they are, by no means, without interest to the general reader They will give an idea of his professional qualifications, to his medical friends, who have solicited their publication. These compositions display uncommon powers of r mind for one of his age. A few pieces of a humourous kind are introduced. These are numerous, for he was naturally inclined to such composition. But many of them are necessarily excluded. The incidents on which they are founded, or the circumstances connected with I them, prevent their publication at present. Several more had been selected for the work, but the limits prescribed would not admit their publication. One of these is an amusing Epistle in rhyme, written in a measure peculiar to Burns. To his friends, all his productions are interesting ; but to strangers, many of them will possess a peculiar interest, from the circumstances of the author's age. There is a value attached to them, independent of their absolute merits. A peculiar interest is felt in the labors of a youth travelling in the path of learning. Many will dwell with delight upon the scenes of early exertion. There is a pleasure in viewing the bud and the flower, as well as in tasting the ripened fruit. The spring-time is the most interesting and important season r in life ; and the most abundant in example for the young. All that can afford encouragement to rising genius, should be exhibited for imitation. The young reader will find in the kfe and writings of the author motives and examples to encourage him in the pursuit of knowledge and the practice ©f virtue.

PHEEACE, til

These pages, it must be remembered, are not the production of his matured mind. However excellent they are in comparison, they are but the youthful efforts — the unfinished performances of his rising genius — the bright promises of a rich and plentiful harvest. Though these may not compare with the more labored productions of elder poets, yet, considering the circumstances under which they were written — the early age of the author — that they were composed while he was occupied in acquiring his education — and amidst the engrossing pursuit and practice of a profession — and all this aocomplished within the short space of his brief existence, they certainly exhibit evidences and specimens of a powerful and cultivated mind. It is not perhaps becoming the editor to say much in praise of the work, but thus much he can venture, that there is nothing in this volume, of which any, at the author's age, need be ashamed, and much of which they might be justly proud.

There are some pieces omitted, which display as much talent as those published ; but their subjects are too local. The reader, unless intimately and personally acquainted with the circumstances with which they are closely interwoven, (and which often constitute so much of their interest,) could not perceive their merits. The elucidation would require too many explanations, and of that kind too, which it is extremely difficult to communicate by pen.

It has been remarked that the author did not intend these compositions for publication, at least till they had passed under the examination and correction of his riper years. But his friends are not willing to permit his memory and labors to perish with his body, and to with-

YIII PREFACE.

hold from the public the example of one so worthy of imitation. They wished something as a consolation for the disappointment they have felt in his loss. Not only hb friends but even strangers will find much to admire and praise, much to amuse and instruct them. Without further comment, we commend this collection of his Remains to the hearts of those who remember his excellence, and to the favor of all who desire to encourage the efforts of youthful genius and virtue.

Editor.

Plymouth, Dec. 18, 1828.

Contents

PAGE.

Tributary Verses, - - - 11

Biographical Sketch of the Author, - 13 Anticipations and Recollections,

Part Second, 85 The Duel, ... 109

The Memory of the Dead, - (*JEtat 16) 113

Lines on the Downfall of My Woodpile, 114

On a Sprig of Juniper, - - f 17,) 118

Lines icritten in an Album, - - 120

To the New Year, January 1, 1827, - 123

To his Friends on New Year's morning, - 124 To a Loch of [Hair taken from the head of a

Young Lady (A. T.) when three months old 125

Address of The Peruvian Damsel, 128

The Molian Harp, - - (16) 131

The Still Small voice, - - (15) 133

On a Rose blooming in October, - (16) 133

* The age of foe author is here affixed to those pieces which were not dated on the page where they are printed.

X CONTENTS.

Lines on the Death of Henry Smith, (\S) 145

Recollections on visiting College, - (^) 147

An Extract from "Alonzo," - - 158

An 'Extract from the same Poem, - - 159

The heart lenoweth his own bitterness, (^) 169

Wliat constitutes a Good Moral Character, ISO

A Discourse before the Attleborough Society, 192

A Dissertation on Animal Heat, - 218'

A Dissertation on Symptoms, - - 246

Johnson's Lives of the Poets, - - 288

Byron's Works, - - 298

Rollin's Ancient History, - - 300

Extracts from Asylum for Vagrant Thoughts , 304

TRIBUTARY VERSES. XI

TRIBUTARY VERSES TO THE MEMORY OP THE AUTHOR.

Where has Parris fled ?

He's left this world of joy and woe — His spirit soaring looks below, And whispers mortals to bestow A thought on him and heaven.

His body rests in the damp cold earth ; His voice is hushed that wakened mirth ; His eye, once sparkling with delight, Is closed to sleep in endless night.

And where has Parris fled ?

He's winged his way to some strange land unknown ;

To other realms his wafted spirit's flown ;

Mortals can only know that he has gone

To that abode, whence none can e'er return.

The dark domain of earth has him received — Fairest of flowers that bloomed in virtue's field. While here his body slumbers with the dead, His angel-spirit to his God has fled.

Though o'er his dust the heedless stranger tread, Nought can disturb the slumbers of the dead, Until the great Archangel from the skies Sound the loud trumpet, and the dead arise —

Then will he burst the cerements of the tomb, And sainted spirits hail him as he comes — Then through the vault of heaven he'll soar and sing, " O grave ! where is thy victory ? O death ! where is thy sting V

XII TRIBUTARY VERSES.

LINES ON THE DEATH OP S. B. PARRIS.

Ye, who have wept o'er genius in its bloom, That faded soon, and withered in the tomb — Who love to linger where the mourner weeps, Oh come, and drop a tear where P arris sleeps.

A mother bends in anguish o'er his bier — Drops on his closing grave a bitter tear — And o'er his perished hopes a father mourns — ■ With one sad look from that dark grave he turns.

Around that spot no kindred footsteps tread, Yet there shall friendship's warmest tears be shed ! And though the tongue has bid its last farewell, Yet o'er his name shall faithful Mem'ry dwell.

A mother's fondness o'er his-mould'ring form In fancy hears the winter's midnight storm — In fancy sees the clayey load that's prest So close around his cold, unconscious breast.

But faith is taught beyond the bounds of time To view that bright, that heav'nly clime, Where " virtue's faded flower" shall bloom anew, In verdure clothed, and bathed in heav'nly dew.

J.

OF

THE AUTHOR.

It is always a melancholy, but sometimes a pleasing task to record the life, and delineate the character of a departed friend — melancholy, as it renews our sorrow for the loss which death has occasioned; but pleasing, as it recals to mind scenes of past intimacy and objects of past delight, and affords the opportunity of reviving his memory, recording his virtues, and dwelling on his worth. But doubly melancholy is the performance of the task, on the present occasion, since it reminds us of the greatness of the loss ; but doubly pleasing, since the character to be delineated, and the virtues which come in review, are bright and excellent, and the scenes to be portrayed, and the events to be recorded, are interesting and innocent. To dwell on the memory and paint the character of a virtuous friend is a duty, and in the performance of this duty, in this instance, there is nothing to excite regret, but that final event which deprived his friends of his society, and the public, of his services.

On me, one of his intimate associates, devolves the duty of performing this task. The editor is conscious of his inability, in so short a sketch as this, to do justice, to the memory of one who possessed such varied exceilen- 2 cies ; but let not the memory of the dead suffer by the inability or negligence of the living. He, who was so well qualified for the task, cannot now defend and guard his own reputation. To discharge the duty of surviving [ friendship, with that faithfulness due to the hallowed memory of the dead, is a delicate and difficult office.

The short but well-spent life of the author of these Remains affords but few incidents for the pen of the biographer. A life of domestic virtue and secluded study, however excellent it may be, is not usually marked by any events sufficiently novel or varied to attract the attention of the busy world. His scene of action was not in the theatre of active life ; it was the retired closet of the studious scholar. His operations were unseen by others, for they were conducted within the depths of his mind. There is nothing apparent in the habits of a scholar in general, to render detail interesting. But the life of this author, in particular, was diversified but by a very few striking or uncommon occurrences. His character was peculiarly that of a secluded student, devoted to the cultivation of his mental powers, and the acquisition of knowledge. His external conduct — the general habits of his life, from the days of childhood to its closing scene, were so exactly uniform, that the description exhibits no j variety to interest those who read merely for amusement. The history of one week is the history of a year — and the history of one year is the history of his life. But what distinguished him more especially from others, were the operations of the mind. These were unrevealed to hu- J man eye. They cannot now be portrayed by the pen. His time was occupied in labours which will not admit of fall description. Who will reveal to us the secret recess-

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. lO

es of the human mind? The operations of his mind, then, can be known only from their results : — from his acquisitions — from his state of mental cultivation — and from his literary productions. But he had scarce commenced labour ; for the most of his life had been occupied in disciplining and preparing his mental powers for action. And one, who died so young, it cannot be expected, would leave just specimens of the literary excellence which he really possessed.

Since the materials for composing a history of his life are so few and ordinary, the principal object of this sketch must be to delineate his moral and intellectual character. It was this in which his chief excellence and distinction consisted. This must be effected by a consideration of the sentiments and principles which influenced and guided his conduct ; and since there are so few anecdotes and incidents to illustrate his manner of life, the best knowledge of his sentiments and principles may be obtained from a perusal of his writings. To them the reader is referred. From the opinions contained in them some idea of his character may be discovered.

The subject of this memoir, Samuel Bartlett Parris, was the third son of Rev. Martin Parris of Marshfield, Mass. and of Julia his wife. He was born in Kingston, Mass. January 30th, 1806. His education was commenced in his native place. An account of his childhood, could particulars be ascertained, would afford subjects of interest, for we love to trace the developement of talents — the dawning of the human faculties.

The disposition of his mind was manifested early in life, even in infancy. His mental powers were early developed, and exercised in the acquisition of knowledge. In this respect he followed the natural bent of his mind. By his own choice he learned the English alphabet, before any attempt was made to teach him. This he did by inquiring of some one in the family the name of each letter until he had thus fixed it in his memory. He acquired the art of penmanship, without any assistance or instruction from others. This he did by imitating the printed letters which he found in his picture books. From this circumstance his hand-writing varied materially in different periods, and never possessed a fixed character, as appears by the specimens of penmanship from his first attempt at writing, and during his life. Before he was eighteen months old he had learned all the Hebrew letters, out of an old Hebrew Bible in his father's possession, though at that age, he was scarcely able to articulate, or pronounce a letter distinctly. He also learned to read by his own choice, and from his voluntary exertions. The only assistance given him, w^s merely answering the questions which he asked. He used to take some little book, set down in his chair, and occupy himself, by the hour together, in spelling the words ; and after a few weeks had thus been employed, his parents were surprised to discover, that he could not only read, but, in some measure, comprehend what he read. This was the only attention which they bestowed on his instruction, until he had acquired the rudiments of his education : and this must have been rather a pleasure than a task. He thus discovered a quick perception, and a wonderful facility of acquiring knowledge. This voluntary and successful application, and these acquirements obtained by almost unaided exertions, evince a disposition and power of mind uncommon at that early age, and form an eminent, and al-

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. IT

most sole exception to the general character of children. The elements of education are usually taught a child by earnest persuasion, by patient and oft repeated attempts, and frequently by severe compulsion on the part of the instructor. The child generally manifests a strong aversion from giving close attention to mental exertion, at a period of life, when the whole scene of earth is new to him, and exhibits before his wondering eyes a thousand objects to attract his unsated curiosity, and to occupy his time.

The character of this child presented a direct contrast to this picture. He but seldom amused himself with the usual play-things of children. He never showed but little desire to engage in the ordinary sports of his equals ; but whenever he did engage in play, his amusements were of a different kind from those of children in general. Even at this infantile age his mind seemed to be entirely devoted to learning. From the first dawn of reason, he was inquisitive and observing — nothing escaped his inquiry or observation. There was no need of resorting to the usual means of exciting his curiosity — his attention was already sufficiently alive. It was only necessary to guide his attention in a proper direction, and to answer the numerous questions which he was so readily disposed to ask. There are anecdotes preserved among his friends, affording numerous striking examples of quick perception, accurate observation, and premature understanding.

He early commenced the practice of composition. From this fortunate circumstance, specimens remain of his genius and learning at a very youthful age. He kept the most of these, however, concealed from all his friends,

till after his death. Genius is always attended in youth

2# with this diffidence, and is followed by it, until its efforts have been tested, and its confidence assured by frequent experiment. It is an inconvenience to which all are at first subjected, who have the privilege of enjoying those exquisite powers of mind, which are the constituents of genius. It is a retired feeling, which is not manifested in flippancy of conversation, or pertness of behaviour. It is ignorance alone which is pert and forward. From the want of this knowledge of human nature, often arises that false estimate of the natural endowments of children ; and to the same cause must be attributed the circumstance, that the bright promises of childhood so often disappoint the expectations of their inconsiderate friends.

In order to illustrate his early character, it will be proper to introduce some extracts from these juvenile productions — not important in themselves, but valuable as being the best evidence of his character. To some these extracts may appear too childish ; but a virtuous mind delights to dwell on the scenes of childhood. Those too, who wish to study the native character of an individual, must recur to its first manifestions at a period, when he is free from that mask sometimes assumed in after life ; when he freely displays every feeling of the heart, with all the artless simplicity of childhood, and without those cold restraints which society imposes, and experience dictates. In after life you may be temporarily deceived by laboured attempts to conform his conduct and opinions to the standard of those whom he respects, or of those with whom he associates ; and his true natural character may be thus concealed for awhile from the view of the observer. But in childhood the conduct is the direct result of feeling, and not of habits acquired in the school of the world.

Untutored in the ways of man, unpractised in the arts of life, his manners are then the dictates of nature ; and his language is the simple, unsophisticated expression of the heart, and not the studied phraseology of design.

After his death there was found among his papers a little Journal or Diary, which he began at a very early age* — in which he noted down the daily occurrences and the ordinary events of life, and, in particular, the domestic affairs of his father's family. It contains a daily account of his studies from his first attendance at school, until his admission into college. The writing of this Journal was a labour which he voluntarily undertook, and pursued for his own satisfaction. It serves to illustrate his character, to denote the progress of his studies, and the gradual unfolding of his mind. There is nothing peculiar or remarkable in this Journal, except that candour and openness of heart which adorned his whole life. Its pages exhibit a faithful transcript of his heart. In this he recorded all his conduct, and every motive of his heart ; in this he confesses every fault and error, with as much impartiality, as if it were the judgment book of justice. It would be gratifying to his friends to peruse this little juvenile history of his life, as it contains rare examples of innate goodness of heart, honorable to human nature ; and affords pleasing specimens of his early acquisitions, and a minute account of the progress of his studies. The object for which it was undertaken evinces the disposition of his mind — his strong desire for the attainment of excellence. As specimens of the Journal referred to, a few extracts will be made. One of these volumes is prefaced with the following title and remarks, explaining the design with which it was written : " Journal of Samuel B. Parris, *The first volume of this Journal was begun when he was six.

aged 11 years and one month, begun at Kingston, March 24th, A. D. 1817 — wherein I intend to record every thing material that happens near me, and also my faults, that by looking on this I may remember them and do so no more."

" Thursday, April 3rd. I got a letter from M to

day, but did not open it. I thought I saw a certain name through the paper. She burnt the letter, and appeared to be offended. No wonder. Undoubtedly I did very wrong. I see my folly — fateor culpam esse mei. [I confess the fault to be mine.] I am very sorry. I was put out with her in the forenoon. Fateor me non facere recv te." [I confess I do not act right.]

" Friday, 4th. I was allowed to stay out of school this forenoon. I stayed and played ball some time. And the company went up to Black water. I, not wishing to go with them, came into school, and was marked for late. Non puto me facere non recte. [I do not think I did wrong.] Also this forenoon, / and the rest of the scholars were playing goal ball, and one of them stood before the goal. I told him several times to get out of the way, but he would not. I happened one time to get the ball, and threw it at the goal, and he standing before it, it hit him in his eye. Et in hoc non puto me facere non recte, nam prae-monebam." [And in this I do not think I did wrong, for I warned him of it.]

" Wednesday 9th. Yesterday when Pa was not at home, I went up stairs, and was playing with the electric machine. Pa says it will not go to-day. Fateor me facere non recte. , ' [I confess I do not act right.] He had been told, he must not touch the machine without liberty from his father. There are many other examples of the same kind scattered throughout the volume. All this is done without the least ostentation, or the most distant expectation that any human eye would see it but his own. In the same manner, the other volumes contain a record of his own feelings, opinions, and resolutions ; his little disappointments, and misfortunes ; and the errors and faults into which he was tempted. He records them with all the amiable ingenuousness, and amusing simplicity of childhood. They exhibit a faithful mirror of his heart. These extracts are exact transcripts from the original, with all those Latin phrases just as he had written them. At the close of each month, he sums up what he had accomplished during the past month.

" Friday, September 6th, A. D. 1816. At the time that August was out, I had studied through the Oration Pro Rege Deiotaro, and begun the Oration Pro Lege Manilio, in Orationibus Ciceronis — none in the Minora — written no Latin — ciphered a little in' Vulgar Fractions — studied a little Geography — done two or three Geometrical Problems — written composition on Drunkenness, on Riches, on Pride, and on War. Had studied a little in English Grammar, and a few lessons in the Hebrew Grammar, and spoken a few pieces and dialogues," &c.

" Wednesday, January 1st, 1817. When December was out, I had studied through the Manilian Law in Cicero — gone as far as de Cyri institutione, in Minora — written a little Latin — written some Composition — studied English Grammar — ended the Hebrew Grammar, the first two Books of Horace, and fifteen Odes — studied some Geography — written some — drawn three Maps, viz. of the Eastern, and Western Continents, and of the United States of America — besides many other trifling things, and perhaps others which I have forgot,"

In this manner he gives a minute and detailed account of his studies from month to month. It displays an interesting map to those who delight to trace the progress of the youthful mind from its first feeble infantile attempt at motion, till it attains its more rapid and majestic strides. From these accounts of himself it appears, that he began early to take notice of events which happened within his observation ; and to exercise his own judgment in forming his opinions. By accustoming himself to write down the daily occurrences around him, with his remarks, and inferences drawn from them, he acquired the useful habit of observing and investigating whatever passed before him either in the moral or physical world. To this cause may be attributed in part his uncommon discretion in youth. As his early attention to writing was prompted by the natural impulse of his genius, so the early improvement of his mind was the consequence of the habit induced by this exercise. The sentiments and opinions dispersed in van< parts of his juvenile productions alTord clear proofs of uncommon discernment, and show that he soon estimated things according to a real, and not that imaginary value, which the youthful imagination is so apt to attach to objects.