same interest which we feel for "Sunny Side," "Idlewild," and "Sachem's Wood."

The influence, also, of natural scenery upon the poetic feeling, is very great, and is by no means to be omitted in considering the elements of a poet's education-indeed, it forms one of its principal ingredients. The objects of sublimity and beauty, with which a youthful poet has daily contact, give a coloring to the features of his soul, and insensibly but powerfully affect his whole character. “Milton wrote his L'Allegro at Forest Hill, Oxford; and the beauty and scenery of that immortal poem was borrowed from the picturesque landscapes of its neighborhood." A description of the home where the youth of Percival was spent will not then be uninteresting. We know it well, and have often passed it, and with a feeling of peculiar reverence as the spot where this marvelous genius spent a portion of his earlier days. It is situated in Kensington, a parish of Berlin,* in the state of Connecticut-a town of moderate local limits, but possessing features of rare beauty, such as are to be found, perhaps, in few other towns of New England.

The house itself is a plain wooden building, bordering close on the street, at present and for some time past externally uninviting from its dingy aspect. It is situated in a romantic region-near at hand is the parish church, rendered attractive by the shade of old trees of buttonwood and oak, standing on an elevated site, conspicuous the whole country round-in front of the house, over the way, is an orchard slope, and around it are patches of cultivated ground. In sight, at a few miles distant, and on the southeast, rises Mount Lamentation, stretching to the south, memorable for the mournful legend† connected with its history, which its name

Berlin has been the birth-place of quite a number of individuals who have been eminent in various departments of literature and science. Among these may be mentioned Prof. E. A. Andrews, lately deceased, distinguished for his high classical attainments; and the author of the well known Latin Grammar and Dictionary, and various other works. Prof. Charles Hooker, of Yale College; also, the two Burritts-Elijah H. Burritt, the mathematician and astronomer, and Elihu Burritt, better known as the "learned blacksmith."

Reference is here made to the traditionary account, in the early period of the country, of the supposed loss of Mr. Chester, of Wethersfield, on this mountain.

commemorates; and still nearer, on the west, is Southington Mountain; while extending southward are the Blue Hills, with their soft and varied outline. In the immediate vicinity, overlooking the house, is a rounded hill of considerable elevation, bearing the not very euphonious name of "Turkey Hill," from the top of which can be seen a wide country around, with its villages and spires. Farm houses are scattered everywhere among the neighboring eminences and in the valley; below is a beautiful sheet of water which turns several mills in its progress, then dashes over the rocks with a picturesque descent, and winds among green meadows, whose murmuring voice soothes the ear-the whole presenting a panorama of peculiar beauty, attractive alike to the poet's pen or the painter's pencil.

In a poem under the title, "On viewing, one summer evening, the house of my birth, in a state of desertion," the poet has presented this picture of it, among others of a touching nature:

"Down a glen, where half unseen,

Banked with turf of deepest green,

Flowed a winding rill along,

Tinkling like the milk maid's song;

Where the moon's reflected ray

Smiling on the surface lay,

Seeming to sleep in soft repose,

Like morning dew-drops on the rose;
Where the evening splendors fade

In the maple's quiet shade;
Lonely, desolate appears,

Pale as in the vale of years,

The mansion where my infant eye

First saw the rocks, the woods, the sky.

O! it was a lovely sight,

Though obscured by shades of night;

And though the ivy-mantled wall

At intervals was heard to fall,
Breaking with faintly rattling sound

The quiet hush that reigned around."

The poet is supposed to refer to a house in his native place, many years since removed from sight, and which may possibly have been the house of his birth; but his youth, so far as appears, was passed in the home we have attempted to describe above.

In the parish whose name we have given above, James Gates Percival was born Sept. 15, 1795. His father was a respectable physician in the place, and commanded an extensive practice. He died in possession of a handsome estate. The poet's mother,t from whom he inherited his peculiar temperament and probably his poetical genius, was a woman "by nature of a delicate and susceptible organization,” and endowed with good qualities of intellect and heart. The name of his paternal ancestor, Percival, seems to connect him with an honorable descent in English history, and we have heard an intimation of the kind from one of the poet's family. But however this may be, genius is higher than any accident of birth or lineage; and the God-given instincts of the poet, with a kingly patent derived from nature herself, transcends every earthly pedigree. The family consisted of four children-three sons, and a daughter. Of the sons,§ James was the second, and was remarkable for his precocious talent and amiable disposition. "From his cradle he was a fondling of nature. His carliest joy was to hold converse with the mysterious whisperings of the forest; to gaze on the grand old trees, and read the records of centuries in their tall and rugged majesty. Possessed by a distressing diffidence and sensibility to suffering from the harshness of his fellows, his delight was to climb the rude familiar granite of his native hills, and to travel with his eye along the distant line of azure mountains that bounded the scope of vision, and prisoned in their embracing circuit as quiet and as sweet a scene of pastoral beauty as ever lived in fancy's dreams." His preparation for college was made under private instruction. One who was his teacher describes him as he was at the age of sixteen, in his family, as "a fair and pleasant

Dr. Percival died at the age of forty, when James was between eleven and twelve years old.

Mrs. Percival's maiden name was Elizabeth Hart. After the death of Dr. Percival, she married for her second husband Mr. Samuel Porter, of Berlin. The daughter died at the age of seventeen years.

§ Edwin Percival, the eldest son, was known as a portrait painter. He inherited the constitutional traits of the family. His death occurred several years since. Oswin Percival, the youngest brother, is still living

youth, delicate in his complexion, rather shy and retiring, soft and lisping in his conversation, neat and beautiful in his dress, gentle in his manners, lovely in his whole de portment." His peculiar disposition, it would seem, won the affections of those who had the care of him; while his mental troubles at this time increased the sympathy which was otherwise felt for him. The same instructor further remarks concerning him: "He was delicate in his feelings, sensitive to any impropriety, quick to discern and very ready to feel every kindness. *** He was not so well fitted for college as some of his companions; but the defect was owing to his youth and to his not having been thoroughly introduced into the specific and minute things of the Latin Grammarbut his industry, keenness and retentiveness, soon made the ground all clear, and made him one of the most accurate and able linguists in the United States. He was a youth of great inquisitiveness and observation."

This is not the first time that precocious intellect has evinced its peculiar bent*-has preferred Shakespeare and Milton to Virgil and Horace, and instead of following the routine of prescribed tasks by digging into Latin or Greek roots, has chosen to indulge its own fancies and pen English stanzas. The latter we believe to have been the early course of Percival, to an uncommon extent. The observation we have cited above respecting the want of specific study, is the more remarkable as made respecting him who afterwards became so eminent in almost every branch of learning. The circumstance that excellence in a particular department is sometimes an after growth, is illustrated by the well known anecdote related of Daniel Webster, who, on his first attempt

* It is related of the French tragic poet, Racine, that having found the Greek romance of the Loves of Theogene and Charicles, he read it eagerly, when Claude Lancelot, his instructor, animated by that indiscreet and inconsiderate zeal which overshoots its mark, snatched the volume away from him, and threw it into the fire. A second copy having shared the same fate, the young man bought a third, and, having learned its contents by heart, carried it to Lancelot, saying, "You can burn that too like the others."-Notice sur la vie et les ouvrages de Racine. Vol. I, p. 6.

of the constitution. the seed sown fell

at declamation as a school exercise, to his own mortification and disappointment failed utterly in the performance, and was encouraged only by the friendly voice of his instructor to renew the effort. This was the history of one, who became in later years the illustrious orator and eloquent defender Certain it is, in the instance of Percival, at length into no unproductive soil, the fruits of which, as the result of unwearied and successful culture, were afterwards given to the world, in the most finished of his productions-the "Classic Melodies." The truth seems to be, what has already been referred to, he was receiving an education from the scenes of nature around him, and from the circumstances in which he was placed in life, higher than that to be derived from any human teachers. In relation to his peculiar temperament, the teacher above quoted goes on to remark: "In this delicacy of mind lies the secret of that ascetic character which grew upon him all the way-which made him shrink from the roughness of a rushing world-which made him appear as if he had become disgusted with human society-which notwithstanding the exquisite tenderness of his works, gave a cynical tinge to some of his poetry, which sometimes drove him almost to desperation; which was worthy to awaken the tenderest sympathy of all his acquaintance, instead of bringing upon him the reproach of eccen tricity that he could so ill bear, augmenting the disease of his soul continually as he passed on, and which finally, as I feel, urged him out of life."

Another circumstance which had by far a more important influence upon him, in determining the character of his career, may be mentioned here. Different versions have been given of the story, some of which as published have been erroneous; perhaps it is not possible at present to ascertain the whole truth in the matter. Delicacy in regard to the living might incline us to withhold our pen; as, however, it has already appeared in print, a brief allusion to it seems necessary as an elucidation of what was mysterious in Percival's history.

A writer in the North British Review, in a notice of Wordsworth, remarks as follows: "In the life of every man