ments for the evening commons; and was summoned to appear before the government of the university. He defended himself before them with so much wit and impudence, that his offence was rather increased than mitigated. He was accordingly sentenced to a suspension* of four months, for neglect of his studies during that quarter; and for insulting the authority of college; aggravated, as his sentence runs, by his indecent and impudent attempts, when before the government, to justify his misbehavior.

The then President of the college, Dr. Willard, was well known to be a strenuous supporter of authority, and rigidly attached to the maintenance of his own dignity; "and opposed" (as Mr. Paine used to say)" to the least perpetration of wit in his presence." The slightest disrespect to his office was considered as a crime: hence, with all his learning and virtues, he was ill calculated to restrain by persuasion, or to gain the respect and affection of the students, by a deportment, at once dignified without haughtiness, and conciliating without familiarity. Had he possessed the bland

**

By some strange transposition of terms, that is called suspension, which is merely a rustication, a dismissal to the country for some months, when the student is restored to his class and that is called rustication, which suspends him a year, allowing him to go where he pleases, and degrades him to the class below that in which he had stood. We wish to sce the expulsion of this solecism from our university.

manners and persuasive authority of the scholar and gentleman, who now presides with such dignity and usefulness over that seminary, it is possible Paine had not been suspended.

Perhaps, however, his suspension was of no real disadvantage. He was placed under the care of the Rev. Mr. Sanger, of Bridgewater, where he pursued his studies with assiduity, and was afterwards regularly reinstated in his class.

The 21st of every June, till of late years, has been the day, on which the members of the senior class closed their collegiate studies, and retired, to make preparations for the ensuing commencement. On this day it was usual for one member to deliver an oration, and another a poem: such members being appointed by their classmates. The Valedictory Poem of Mr. Paine, a tender, correct and beautiful effusion of feeling and taste, was received by the audience with applause and tears. The latter part of it, especially, was heard with silent sorrow and admiration.

"The fatal sheers the slender thread divide,

And sculptured urns the mouldering relicks hide;
Far deeper wounds our bleeding breasts display,
And Fate's most deadly weapon is-to-day.

To-day we part; ye throbs of anguish, rise,
Flow, all ye tears, and heave, ye rending sighs!
Come lend to Friendship's stifled voice relief,
And melt the lonely hermitage of grief.
Sighs, though in vain, may tell the world we feel,
And tears may soothe the wound, they cannot heal.

To-day we launch from this delightful shore,
And Mirth shall cheer, and Friendship charm no more;
We spread the sail o'er life's tumultuous tide;
Ambition's helm, let prudent Reason guide;
Let grey Experience, with her useful chart,
Direct the wishes of the youthful heart.
Where'er kind heaven shall bend our wide career,
Still let us fan the flame, we've kindled here;
Still let our bosoms burn with equal zeal,
And teach old age the warmth of youth to feel.
But ere the faithful moment bids us part,
Rends every nerve, and racks the throbbing heart,
Let us, while here our fondest prayer ascends,

6

Swear on this altar, that we will be friends!'

But, ah! behold the fatal moments fly;

Time cuts the knot, he never could untie.

Adieu! ye scenes, where noblest pleasures dwell!
Ye happy seats, ye sacred walls, farewell!
Adieu! ye guides, and thou enlightened sire;
A long farewell resounds our plaintive lyre;
Adieu! ye youths, that press our tardy heel;
Long may it be, ere you such griefs shall feel!
Wild horrors swim around my startling view;
Fate prompts my tongue, and, oh! my friends, adieu."

On the 15th of July, 1792, the day on which he received his degree of Bachelor of Arts, he delivered, according to the assignment of the government, an English poem. This was at a time when all eyes were directed to France, and almost every American was ardent in his wishes for the success of the French revolution. He chose for his theme "The Nature and Progress of Liberty:" a subject than which, no one could have been more popular and judicious. The general delusion of the time,

when the infidel, Paine, was considered the great apostle of liberty, and Edmund Burke, the champion of despotism, must excuse certain sentiments, which no one would sooner condemn at this time, than the author, if alive.

Long may the laurel to the ermine yield,
The stately palace to the fertile field;
The fame of Burke, in dark oblivion rust,
His pen a meteor and his page the dust.

It is not surprising that a young man, like Paine, should have partaken of the general madness of the day, which, with very few exceptions, then swayed the feelings of age, of wisdom, and of experience. Mr. Paine, some years after, spoke with regret of his "stripling attempt to smite the pyramidical fame of Burke."

He was graduated with the esteem of the government and the regard of his cotemporaries. He was as much distinguished for the opening virtues of his heart; as for the vivacity of his wit ; the vigor of, his imagination; and the variety of his knowledge. A liberality of sentiment and a contempt of selfishness are usual concomitants; and in him, were striking characteristics. Urbanity of manners and a delicacy of feeling imparted a charm to his benignant temper and social dispo

sition.

Mr. Paine, soon after leaving college, determined on the pursuit of the mercantile profession; and

became a clerk to Mr. James Tisdale, a merchant in this town of very extensive business. To a man of our poet's genius and disposition, we should sup pose it impossible that this should not have been irksome. He had enjoyed the friendship of the Pierian sisters, till the connexion became indissoluble; and could not leave them, nor return from following after them." Hence, he not only continued an occasional correspondent of the Massachusetts Magazine, in which he had written many fine pieces, under the signatures of Egon and Celadon, and in which he now assumed the signature of Menander; but even made entries in his day book in poetry; and once, made out a charter-party in the same style.

Nor was he at all times attentive to the desk and the counter. Having been one day sent to the bank, with a check for five hundred dollars, returning to the store, he was met by several literary acquaintances, he jumped into a hackney coach with them, went to Cambridge, and spent a week, in the enjoyment of "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." He, however, did not embezzle the money; but, on his return, carried it untouched to the store.

In the correspondence, about this time, between Philenia and our poet, there are certainly some of the finest strains of the lyre, and some of the most delicate touches of compliment. On each side there