STEPHEN GIRARD.

THOUGH Stephen Girard will never be classed among the great men of the earth, yet so long as Girard College stands in its classic beauty, a monument of his wealth, his name will never be forgotten. A slight sketch of the life of a man who has founded an institution calculated to exercise a great influence either for good or evil on the welfare of the people, may not be unacceptable.

A native of Bordeaux, in France, of humble parentage, at an early age he embarked as cabin-boy in a trader to the West Indies. His education had been neglected, and having left his home on account of parental oppression, he had nothing on which to depend for promotion, save his own energy and genius. From the situation of cabin-boy he rapidly rose to the station of chief mate, and finally, to that of captain, in which capacity he made several voyages between the West Indies and the United States, till in the year 1775, on his arrival at New York, he gave up the occupation of a seaman and removed to New Jersey, where, for four years, he engaged in the manufacture of cigars. In 1779 he removed to Philadelphia, where he continued till his death in 1831, advancing step by step, from comparative poverty to the possession of the largest fortune in the United States.

Strict in his business transactions, and saving in his habits, yet benevolence was a prominent trait in the character of Girard. Not the forced benevolence, which, in the shape of a paltry sum, is reluctantly squeezed by public opinion from the grasping hand of avarice, but a benevolence which sprang from the heart,-inherent in his very nature. Though in his early years exposed to influences the most unfavorable to the cultivation of such a spirit, yet his hardships and distresses could not smother the benevolence of his disposition. But they were not wholly without their effect. They seem to have caused in his mind a caution and discrimination in his acts of beneficence, which some have ascribed to the absence of all true benevolence from his character, but which are more justly accounted for by referring them to that distrust of human nature, often felt by those who have experienced great adversities. The use he made of the influence which the vast wealth he had acquired naturally gave him, displays a benevolence which could have come but from a heart earnestly desiring the actual benefit of man, and the relief of public distress. His butcher remarking to him that an increase of a cent or two a pound in the price of beef, against which Girard was remonstrating, was of no importance to him; " No," replied he, "but it may be a great matter to the next man that comes along." This act did not spring from a miserly reluctance to part with his money, but from a liberal-minded opposition to any thing in the shape of an exorbitance which could oppress the public.

Had Girard possessed the hoarding spirit of a miser, he would not have risked his entire fortune, as he did, in the support of the credit

of the Government, during the last war. At a time when public credit was almost destroyed,-when the moneyed men of our country shrank from investing their property in the Governmental loan,-when Government was embarrassed with debt, and destitute of means for carrying on the war,-when the disheartening effects of the capture of the Capitol of the country had not been counteracted by the glorious deeds of our gallant tars, and when gloom and doubt filled the nation,— then did Girard come to the support of the sinking credit of his adopted country, and took the loan of five millions, enabling the Government to prosecute the war with energy, and infusing new life into the desponding hearts of the people. Had Girard been a miser, not thus would he have acted.

Had avarice been the ruling passion of Girard, he would not have established a private banking-house, at the time when the old United States Bank charter expired. The effect of this act was to counteract the disastrous results which would have ensued on the sudden withdrawal of two millions and a half from circulation, at a time of great pressure in the money market. True, it was not without profit to Girard. But he might, at that very time, have invested his fortune in the public funds, which would have yielded him far greater profit, though it would have been without benefit to the public. And with this sole object in view, he gave up the acquisition of greater gain, and established his banking-house.

But the occasions upon which the true benevolence of Girard shone with its brightest lustre, were when demands were not made on his purse alone, but upon his personal services for the performance of the most dangerous-the most loathsome-and the most appalling offices. One instance of this will suffice to place the benevolence of Girard above all question. At the time when the prevalence of the yellow fever in a most fearful degree, had driven the greater part of those who were possessed of the means, from the city of Philadelphia, then did Stephen Girard, though restrained by no want of means, remain firm at his post, amid scenes of suffering and distress almost without a parallel. Being then a member of the City Council, he voluntarily assumed the hazardous and almost inevitably fatal office of interior manager of the hospital appropriated exclusively to the yellow fever patients. And daily did he fulfill his benevolent task, with a faithfulness and devotedness which could have sprung from pure and disinterested benevolence alone. Not few are they whose acts of princely beneficence are trumpeted abroad, yet whose loudly-praised benevolence would shrink from such offices as were discharged by Stephen Girard when he fulfilled the duties of manager in that hospital, whose pestilential effluvia was dreaded and shunned by the passer-by; and when, in the language of a cotemporary, "he had to encourage and comfort the sick,-to hand them necessaries and medicines,-to wipe the sweat from their brows,-and to perform many disgusting offices of kindness for them, which nothing could render tolerable but the exalted motives which impelled him to this heroic conduct."

But, though not miserly or avaricious, yet ambition exercised a

great control over all the actions of Girard. He was ambitious of the applause of future ages, he wished not to leave a name which should be forgotten before his lifeless body had crumbled into dust. This was the goal which he kept constantly in view, while pressing on in the accumulation of his fortune. It was this which in no small degree contributed to create the impression in the minds of many, that he was wanting in true benevolence. But ambition was the prevailing characteristic, and benevolence filled but the second place. Each contributed in a great degree to modify the other. His ambition frequently incited him to actions which seemed incompatible with the existence of benevolent feelings; but his benevolence as frequently acted as a salutary check on his ambition, and prevented it from selecting as its object, the mere accumulation and hoarding up of vast sums. It was his ambition which prompted him in his acts of benefi cence, to the bestowal of his charities upon those public institutions which should enroll his name with loud acclamation, among their chief donors. It was his benevolence which led to the bestowal of these sums for this purpose, rather than use them in the acquisition of gain, or hoard them as a miser. It was his ambition which prompted him to leave the bulk of his property at his demise, for the foundation of an institution which should perpetuate his name. It was his benevolence which led him to found an institution, which should have for its object the gratuitous support and education of those, who, unless thus educated, would grow up in ignorance and vice.

Girard, in all his actions, showed himself a thorough republican. Possessed, in the latter years of his life, of a most princely fortune, and having at his command all the luxuries which money could procure, a republican simplicity was manifest throughout his whole career. Yet he did not, under the garb of simplicity, strive to conceal a sordid and miserly spirit. In his dress, he was plain and economical, regarding the utility of a garment, rather than its appearance. In his furniture and dwelling he showed no want of attention to the comforts, and even the elegancies of life. In the suggestions and injunctions which he left in his will, regarding the management of his college, there is apparent a total disregard of all distinctions grounded on mere wealth or family pretensions, and a desire to prevent the objects of his bounty from acquiring any idea of the superiority of one individual over another, save that arising from a just appreciation of superior intellectual and moral excellencies. And to provide against any man or body of men conferring upon their favorites, however unworthy, the numerous and lucrative offices necessarily attached to such an institution, he expressly provides, that," in all cases, persons shall be cho sen on account of their merit, and not through favor or intrigue."

Girard was too much occupied with the all-absorbing pursuit of wealth, to regard religion with peculiar favor, or to pay any attention to it; yet he never exercised any decided opposition to it, and his infidelity was of a negative, rather than of a positive nature. This may seem a strange assertion to those who have heard that passage in his will, which expressly enjoins and requires that "no ecclesiastic, mis

sionary, or minister of any sect whatsoever, shall ever hold or exercise any station or duty whatever, in the said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises appropriated to the purposes of said college." Yet we see here hostility to a class, rather than to religion itself; and the Committee of the Board of Directors of the College, appointed to draft a general scheme of the course of education to be pursued, regard it in this light. For in the very same clause of the will, Girard distinctly states, that his desire is, that pains shall be taken " to instill into the minds of the scholars, the purest principles of morality;" and the Committee in their late report, with equal truth and justice, state that nowhere are purer "principles of morality" to be found than in the Bible. And the Bible is to be introduced into the college as a fundamental text-book.

The materials for a biography of Girard were but few and scanty, and these few were scattered principally in the memories of those, who most frequently associated with him in business transactions. Intimate friends he had none; for his soul was too deeply wrapped up in the concerns of business to allow him time for cultivating friendship. In the city which was his home during the greater part of his life, many characteristic anecdotes are related of him, which have never appeared in print. And they all exhibit his untiring industry, his great benevolence and grasping ambition,-his hatred of idleness in others, and his own close attention to business. An anecdote may here be introduced, illustrative of his aversion to idleness. One day, a beggar accosted him for charity, and plead in excuse his inability to procure work. "Ah!" said Girard, "no work! You see that pile of bricks? Well, carry them all over to the other side of the street, and then carry them all back again, and I will give you half a dollar for your labor." Though many points in the character of Girard justly deserve censure, yet when we consider the judicious, benevolent, and public-spirited use he made of his vast wealth, we cannot but admire the motives which prompted him in forming his plans, and wish that more of our men of wealth would follow his example, and confer a lasting benefit upon the public, instead of leaving their property to be squandered, in many cases, by worthless heirs.

THE WIDOW AND HER CHILD.

GLEAM after gleam of day-light,

Is fading in the sky,

And the gentle wind of evening
Is floating softly by.

The village bell is tolling,

List to its solemn tone,
A low, sad dirge is swelling,
For some loved spirit gone.

Hark, how its notes are floating
Upon the evening breeze,
And the music of its echoes,
Is dying 'mid the trees!

A mournful tale 'tis telling,-
That solemn tolling bell,
As over hill and valley

Its sadd'ning measures swell.

Within that humble dwelling,
Beside that lowly bed,
A mother, broken-hearted,
Is weeping o'er her dead.

Her loved, her only daughter,
Is lying cold and pale,
And on the ear is falling

The lonely mother's wail.

She died in all her beauty,-
The widow's only child,

And the sad and wretched mother
Now grieves in anguish wild.

How lovely in her slumber,
That fair girl seemeth now,
For the angel-seal of Heaven
Is stamped upon her brow!

The smile which still is ling'ring,
Is whispering of peace,
Oh mother, look upon her,

And thine agony will cease.