d to the public an
extraordinary picture of his mind, in his "Architectural Visions of Early
Fancy in the Gay Morning of Youth," and which now were "dreams in the
evening of life." In this picture he had thrown together all the
architectural designs his imagination had conceived, but which remained
unexecuted. The feeling is true, however whimsical such unaccomplished
fancies might appear when thrown together into one picture. In literary
history such instances have occurred but too frequently: the imagination
of youth, measuring neither time nor ability, creates what neither time
nor ability can execute. ADAM SMITH, in the preface to the first edition
of his "Theory of Sentiments," announced a large work on law and
government; and in a late edition he still repeated the promise, observing
that "Thirty years ago I entertained no doubt of being able to execute
everything which it announced." The "Wealth of Nations" was but a fragment
of this greater work. Surely men of genius, of all others, may mourn over
the length of art and the brevity of life!
Yet many glorious efforts, and even artificial inventions, have been
contrived to assist and save its moral and literary existence in that
perpetual race which genius holds with time. We trace its triumph in the
studious days of such men as GIBBON, Sir WILLIAM JONES, and PRIESTLEY. An
invention by which the moral qualities and the acquisitions of the
literary character were combined and advanced together, is what Sir
WILLIAM JONES ingeniously calls his "Andrometer." In that scale of human
attainments and enjoyments which ought to accompany the eras of human
life, it reminds us of what was to be learned, and what to be practised,
assigning to stated periods their appropriate pursuits. An occasional
recurrence, even to so fanciful a standard, would be like looking on a
clock to remind the student how he loiters, or how he advances in the
great day's work. Such romantic plans have been often invented by the
ardour of genius. There was no communication between Sir WILLIAM JONES and
Dr. FRANKLIN; yet, when young, the self-taught philosopher of America
pursued the same genial and generous devotion to his own moral and
literary excellence.
"It was about this time I conceived," says Franklin, "the bold and arduous
project of arriving at moral perfection," &c. He began a daily journal, in
which against thirteen virtues accompanied by seven columns to mark the
days of the week, he do
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