a day during the college terms; and by teaching a school during the vacations in winter. It has been said, that wealth constitutes the only aristocracy in our country. But this is far from being the truth. Talents, united with correct morals, and good manners, pass unquestioned all the artificial barriers of society; and their claim to distinction is recognized more willingly than any other. It has been particularly the case among the young men who form the body of students at our University, that wealth and parentage are of little account; and that standing in their society depends, if not altogether upon qualities intrinsically estimable, yet, at least, upon personal characteristics. The circumstance of poverty, therefore, was of no disadvantage to Mr. Frisbie, except that it led him to occupy, in other ways, a considerable portion of time, which he might have employed for intellectual improvement.

After taking his first degree at Cambridge in the summer of 1802, he removed to Concord in this state, where he resided for a year, teaching a public school. He immediately afterwards commenced the study of the law. From his acuteness, force of mind, skill in argument, and readiness and eloquence of expression, and from the moral characteristics by which he was distinguished, there can

be little doubt, that if he had been able to pursue the profession which he had chosen, he would have been among the most distinguished and honored of its members. But his pursuits were suddenly broken off, and his prospects clouded, by an affection of his eyes, which deprived him of their use for the purposes of study.

From this he never afterwards recovered, except so far as to be able to use them for very short intervals. There can be few severer inflictions of Providence upon a young man of ardent, active, inquiring mind, looking forward to usefulness and honor, and conscious of powers to attain what he desires. It leaves him to go abroad in society; but cuts him off, in a great measure, from all participation in the interests and hopes of his associates. When he retires from them, it is to a melancholy loneliness, without occupation, except what the mind, by a strong and painful effort, may be able to furnish from its own resources. The sufferer appears as other men, but he is fettered by invisible chains, like the magic threads of the sorceress in Thalaba, which prevent him from exerting his strength, though they may sometimes provoke him to an unavailing struggle. In these circumstances, Mr. Frisbie felt and acted like a man and a Chris-tian. He considered his deprivation as a lesson

from God; and derived from it the moral benefits which it was adapted to afford. It served to discipline and form his character, by calling into action, and strengthening his religious sentiments and principles. When his hopes of honorable distinction were apparently blasted, and he was shut out from the scenes of promised activity and usefulness, he submitted patiently to the humbler task which seemed to be assigned to him, and was ready to perform it faithfully. He made use of those means of improvement that were still in his power; and during a great part of his subsequent life he was surrounded by friends, and by others whom he could with propriety call upon, some one of whom was always ready to read to him. He thus heard many books, both in English and Latin. It is consolatory to know, that under the deprivation which he suffered, his virtues, talents and industry gave him power to render so much service to his fellowmen, and to secure so large a share of love and honor.

It was some years after suffering this affliction, that he adopted a very simple means of writing without the use of his eyes. It was suggested to him by an account of a writing-machine for the blind, described in Rees' Cyclopedia. This machine consists of a square frame, to be placed over paper,

in which a ruler is so adjusted as to slide upward or downward, guiding the hand of the blind person to form written lines on the paper, at proper distances, by means of a pencil. It naturally occurred to Mr. Frisbie, that having a great advantage over the blind, it would be sufficient for him to guide his hand by a ruler laid on the paper; and that he could thus write without a painful use of his eyes. Upon trial, something broader than a ruler, as a thin octavo volume, was found more convenient. He accordingly wrote much in this manner during the latter years of his life. I mention the fact, because, simple as the method may appear when pointed out, I do not recollect to have met with a single instance of a person partially deprived of the use of his eyes, to whom it had occurred from his own reflection. Yet it may occasion very considerable difference in the comfort and usefulness of one suffering under this affliction. An important change for the better in the condition of individuals might often be effected by apparently trifling means, which seem to be overlooked from their very simplicity and obvi

ousness.

The familiar letters of a literary man, when used with that scrupulous judgment and delicacy which the case requires, may often afford the means

of giving, in the most pleasing manner, an insight into his character and pursuits. But I have not this resource at command. In consequence of the the weakness of his eyes, Mr. Frisbie was, for many years, not in the habit of writing to his friends. Subsequent to that misfortune, I have seen but two of his letters, and those were addressed to myself. I have read a considerable number written previously. They were very creditable to him, considering the early age during which they were composed, giving a natural and lively view of his feelings, occupations and purposes; such as it would have been delightful to have had drawn by himself, when his mind and his style were more matured. From one of the latest, addressed to his father, I will give two passages, both of which seem to me characteristic; and the latter to be marked with strong good sense. The date is July 31st, 1803.

"When I first came in town, I was rather sober than otherwise, and of course not over polite to any one. This conduct, though perfectly inadvertent, has, I find, been of essential service to me. It established my character, as one not scrupulous in attention to ceremony, nor very familiar in my general intercourse with the world. I have been

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