thought, that a proper reserve has been violated in this matter, the blame should rest with me.

The Memoir, undertaken under such circumstances, was composed upon the plan of recording such biographical facts as could be recovered, and of embodying letters and some occasional poems, without strict regard to proportion or finish of style, such considerations being deferred to a subsequent revision. The work was soon done. It had been carried through by a strong effort, which had not been able, however, always to command the same degree of attention and power. On a careful perusal, various portions were, therefore, pointed out as requiring to be corrected, or condensed, or entirely recast. The attempt was made, but failed entirely. The power of the first impulse having been exhausted, it was found impossible to grapple with the subject again. I took into my own hands, therefore, the work of preparing the manuscript for the press; but, considering what must be the real ground of its claim on the interest and sympathy of the reader, I could not bring myself to do more, than to make the slightest and most necessary corrections, and to reduce the various parts to their proper proportions, by such retrenchments and omissions, as could be made without interrupting the continuity of the narrative.

A large number of Mr. Graham's Poems were transcribed and submitted to me, with liberty to make such omissions as the character and size of the publication might seem to me to require. In exercising the authority thus given to me, I was governed by the consideration, that the book was intended chiefly as a memorial for Mr. Graham's friends, and that accordingly it would even perhaps have been privately printed for distribution amongst them, if, scattered as they were those who had been his pupils, especially-over many States, it had been practicable to put it within their reach, except by publication in the ordinary way. I was consequently decided to retain many pieces, without looking critically to their poetical merit, by the knowledge that they would possess a special value in the eyes of not a few, who had an interest in the subject, or were aware of the circumstances under which they were composed. I even took it upon me to insert, from other sources, several poems of a lighter character, which had not been transcribed for me. This was done, under the impression, that otherwise Mr. Graham's friends would feel that his poetical character and habits had been imperfectly represented-so ready had he always been to versify a joke for their amusement, or to ex

temporize acrostics, with untiring good humor, for the little album of a school-girl.

The specimens of Mr. Graham's Translations are printed for similar reasons, and not with the view of forcing them into comparison with what has been done by others. They were, for the most part, composed in connection with a circle of friends engaged in the study of German, who competed with each other in versifying their favorite poems. To such friends, therefore, they must be more interesting than even original productions of equal merit. I may add, that the specimens of Horace too have their personal relations: they were composed, for the gratification of one, to whom the best of his original poetry was also devoted.

I have printed nothing with so much hesitation as the two prose fragments, with which the volume closes. The long and carefully labored Essay on Imputation having been rejected, as out of keeping with the other contents of the volume, these two seemed to be the best available specimens of Mr. Graham's ordinary style of Prose. It was much regretted, that no copy of the two other, and far more interesting, parts of the Essay on Coleridge, which had been communicated to the Society, before which the first was read, could be found; and in re-writing his Essay on Rhythm, for a friend, he had only completed the introduction. I much fear, lest these specimens may do Mr. Graham injustice, for they may appear to some to promise what he was not able to perform. But it was not so. He had fully matured these subjects in his mind, and had communicated the results clearly and satisfactorily to others; but the manuscripts from which he spoke, rather than read, however full and methodical they might be, were prepared only as guides in such oral communication, and were not adapted, either in form or finish, for the eye of a reader.

Having thus stated, with (I fear) a wearisome particularity, the circumstances under which this volume appears before the public, I have only to add, that if the reader should fail of discovering sufficient grounds, in the kind or amount of the work I have done, for putting my name on the title-page, he is not more at a loss, in that respect, than I am myself. It has been done in obedience to the earnest injunction of another; and I am reconciled to it only in so far as it bears witness to the interest which I take in the memory of one, who had honored me with his friendship, and to the confidence reposed in me by the survivor.

March, 1849.

G. A.

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MEMOIR.

WILLIAM SLOAN GRAHAM was born near New London, Chester Co., Pa., April 23, 1818. He was the third son of the Rev. Robert Graham, pastor of the Presbyterian church of New London, a most excellent man, the memory of whose faithful services for many long years is still affectionately cherished by that people.

This father, judging from the manner in which his son ever spoke of him, exercised over his whole family a remarkably happy influence. He moved among them as a spirit purified by constant communion with heaven. As it was in the days of the patriarchs, so was it here; the will of their father was the highest authority his children knew upon earth. Their sleeping chamber adjoined his study, and before daybreak in the morning, or in the silence of midnight, the children were accustomed to hear his voice ascending in earnest supplication for them, to "our Father which art in Heaven." Such was his devotion to their eternal interests, that he never allowed a day to pass without calling some one of his little flock to his side, and conversing and praying with them alone; and rarely upon these occasions did they separate without both parties being melted to tears.

His mother, whose name was Ann Ross, was the daughter