he land. It is almost needless to say, that, if he who
first procured the slave and brought him hither had no right to do so,
then neither could he who bought him acquire a rightful ownership.
There is no _property_ to a private man in the life or the natural
faculties of another; no right can accrue by purchase, or vest by
possession, and no inheritance on either side descend. A title, which
by its very nature was void from the beginning, can never be made
good; a dominion which Heaven never gave, must be perpetuated, if at
all, by means which it will never sanction."...

Surely, the trumpet of this youth gave no "uncertain sound."

"One blast upon that bugle horn.
Were worth ten thousand men."

To the recognition of such qualities it was due, probably, that in
1829 he was called to New York city to assume the editorship of a
journal ("Journal of Commerce") founded by an association of
gentlemen, and which afterwards exerted great influence upon public
opinion. He declined the offer, unwilling to leave his Alma Mater at a
critical epoch in her history. He stayed by her to die in her service.

His widow, Mrs. Sarah L. (Gilman) Chamberlain, daughter of Dr. Joseph
Gilman, of Wells, Me., and niece of Mrs. President Brown, survived him
twenty years, residing at Hanover. The memory of her moral,
intellectual, and social worth is warmly cherished by all who knew
her.

Mr. Lancaster adds: "Professor Chamberlain was tall, erect, square
built, well-proportioned, and of graceful mien and bearing,--such a
man as the eye could rest upon with pleasure. His voice was clear,
sonorous, yet smooth and agreeable."

Professor Folsom says:

"Professor Chamberlain, the youngest member of the Faculty, who was
only twenty-three years old when, in 1820, he entered on his
professorship of the Latin and Greek Languages and Literature, and
only thirty-three when he died, was much admired and loved and
reverenced by many of us. To myself, whenever I think of Dartmouth,
his image invariably appears, and he stands out among the objects
presenting themselves second only to that of Dr. Tyler, as the latter
appeared when at his best and noblest in the pulpit. It was indeed in
that same pulpit, and before I came under his instruction, that I
first heard him, when he delivered an oration on the Fourth of July
in the year 1826. It was to a crowded audience, filling the floor and
the galleries. I doubt whether there is one survivor of that