and a generous heart beats in his broad chest. much of her fame and wealth to such men.

America owes

He is now in

the prime of life, and having an iron temperament and a vast field in which to exert his incomparable enterprise, we wish him long life, and hope that his shadow may never be less

DR. JOHN W. FRANCIS.

DR. J. W. FRANCIS, one of the most distinguished physicians in the city of New York, is an excellent and amiable gentleman of the old school, whose pleasant manners and polite address have won for him many friends in the various walks of life. He is the son of Melchior Francis, a native of Germany, who emigrated to this country shortly after the peace of 1783. The subject of this brief sketch graduated at Columbia college, in 1809, when he commenced the study of medicine, under the supervision of the celebrated Dr. Hosack, and afterwards became his partner in business. He has been a lecturer on materia medica, professor of medicine at Rutgers college, afterwards of obstetrics and forensic medicine, and was the first president of the New York Academy of Medicine. His medical works have earned for him a world-wide reputation. For forty years he has been actively engaged in the duties of his profession; yet amid the incessant toils of his

laborious vocation, he has found time to prepare admirable lectures on various topics. His name is identified with the history of the Empire City, and he is far and away the most conspicuous man there of his profession. A municipal convocation or a public demonstration involving the present or prospective interests of the city would not be called without consulting him, and his absence from such a gathering would be noticed and deplored by his vast army of friends.

DOCTOR S. H. COX.

DOCTOR COX, the Christian gentleman whom the most devoted Christians delighted to honor, the mighty man whose praise was in all the churches-ventured to speak and write against American sins. At this time Doctor Cox was among his cotemporaries (a few excepted) what Saul was among the Hebrews, a head and shoulder the tallest, and the pulpit was a proper pedestal for such a noble statue. His sermons were sparkling with truth, beauty, and poetry. He seemed equally at home, at Parnassus, or Lebanon, or Calvary. His words had wings of fire and eyes of flame. Eloquence laughed in his humor and sobbed in his pathos. "The cross was always seen at the painted window of his imagination." He was the 'people's preacher, the defender of the down-trodden, a bright light on a golden candlestick. But where is he now? His late sermon in defence of the lower law has the gloss of silk,

while in reality it is more than half cotton. Is he so tired of his former eloquence that he eats his own words? Has humanity fewer claims now than it had ten years ago? Has the truth undergone a radical change. No, no. The mob said great is Diana, and the Doctor said so she is. He saw there was some weight in the arguments that broke his church windows. He once identified himself with the friends of freedom; he now turns his back upon them, and is numbered with those who go down to the South. At the World's Religious Convention, he was pre-eminently distinguished for his world-wide sympathy-his Christian magnanimity-his soul-stirring eloquence his heaven-inspired zeal, and he would have been welcomed to any Protestant pulpit in England; now, many Evangelical churches in England are closed against him. Why did he strip off his laurels and sacrifice so much on such an altar?

He became the Pastor of a wealthy church, in the city of Brooklyn; that church embraces some who are related by commerce and consanguinity to the South. These men got on the blind side of their minister, and made him believe the Union was in danger; so he stopped saving souls and went to saving the Union, and wretched work he made of it. His effort was a failure. His heart was not in it. He has too much light in his brain, and too much grace in his heart, to do his talents justice, when he assails the "higher law." With regard to the Doctor's style, it is more radiant than profound it has more glitter than depth-besides he makes an egotistical display of his Greek and Latin. He lacks

concentrativeness, and cannot reason acutely and consecu tively. His work entitled Quakerism not Christianity, was a weakling at its birth, and never will be able to run alone. I doubt if it has reached a second edition. He sometimes preaches in blank verse, and since he is not John Milton, his sermons sound better than they read. Doctor Cox is upwards of sixty years of age-a noble, dignified looking man-with a magnificent head, and eyes of starlike brilliance. He speaks rapidly, notwithstanding an impediment, and in bis palmiest days he spoke with so much force, he seemed sometimes to split the words in which he clad his thoughts. Few iner have uttered so many brilliant thoughts as he; many of his wise sayings have passed into proverbs. He has more than a common store of originality-extraordinary power of eloquence, compresses a great deal of meaning into a few words, but he is not a metaphysician. He is a comet of the largest magnitude, sweeping through the heavens, and not a fixed star. He is remarkable for his excellent social qualities-a great favorite with those with whom he is intimately acquain

ted.

FREEMAN HUNT.

THE other day I called to see a friend, and found him conversing with the indefatigable Freeman Hunt, the enterprising editor of the Merchant's Magazine. The thought immediately occurred to me that he deserved a sketch. Mr. Hunt is one of the most persevering and energetic men in this country. Prior to the publication of that indispensable organ of commercial news, he was poor and involved in debt, but the idea occurred to him, that a first class monthly, devoted to the interests of merchants, traders, &c., was needed-that it would be appreciated and sustained by the mercantile men of our country. He did not flood the land with promising prospectuses-nor cover the walls of our public buildings with huge handbills, announcing his intentions to the gaping and gazing crowd, who avail themselves of the lazy leisure at their disposal, to read such gaseous productions; but like a man of forecast and action, he went to work, not by proxy, sending mealy-mouthed agents here and there, but personally, and visited many of the merchant princes of New York, to whom he explained in a manly and straightforward manner what he designed to do. They, like wise and generous men, as many of them are, seconded his resolution and unhesitatingly endorsed his subscription list. When he had made a good beginning in the