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ON the 22d of February,
1810, fell a victim to consump-
tion Charles B. Brown the editor
of the Register. His health had
been for a long time held by a
precarious tenure; inheriting
from nature a delicate frame of
body, which a sedentary life, ren-
dered indispensable by his litera-
ry pursuits, tended to augment.
Early in life, he aspired to the
love of letters with an ardour
which constitutional imbecility ra-
ther served to heighten than a-
bate. He found in his own mind
such resources, his attention was
so powerfully abstracted and en-
grossed by his studies, as to ren-
der him almost unconscious of
bodily pain, and insensible of its
exercise. Ever on the alert in
quest of information, he patiently
enquired, he read, reflected, exa-
mined an dcompared, opposing
facts and arguments—the result
was a judgment luminous, con-
sistent, and just. This habit of

investigation and research, be-
came at last so familiar to him,
that it almost formed a part of
his nature. The most trivial in-
cident which to an ordinary eye
would be passed without observ-
ance, was often with him a sub
ect of ardent curiosity, and was-
so appropriated as to lead to the
illustration of matters more im-
portant in literature, politics, or
morals. It is difficult to conceive
what acquisitions a mind thus in-
stituted, possesses above ordinary
men. Those hours devoted by
the generality of the world to
colloquial amusement, and which
the memory afterwards retains
no vestige of, were to him all su-
bordinate to the grand purpose of
his life, the acquisition of know-
ledge. Study and investigation
lost the character of painful
drudgery, and assumed that of
pastime and recreation. In early
life he delighted to indulge in the
visions of fancy, and the produc-
ions of his juvenile pen, bear the
stamp of that character. The

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public have witnessed the success
of his reiterated attempts, and his
tales of artificial distress have ex-
torted tears of sympathy from our
eyes. For the last five years of
his life, he abandoned the regions
of fancy, and devoted himself
exclusively to more solid and se-
vere pursuits. He undertook the
difficult and arduous office of an
annalist, and the American Re-
gister is decisive evidence of his
skill and talents in that responsi-
ble department of letters. The
habits of analysis for which he
was so peculiar and characteristic,
were now applied to an object
that above all others requires the
exercise of such talents. Added
to this, there was another trait in
his character, that peculiarly fit-
ted him for the office of an anna-
list, the philosophic candour he
maintained in his record of politi-
cal events. As an annalist inac-
cessible to the biasses of party, he
seemed more to write in the
style of an historian of past ages,
than the recorder of those passing
occurrences that tincture our pub-
lic councils, and embitter the
charities of domestic life. We
do but echo the opinion of the
public, when we pronounce this
Register under his superintend-
ence to have put all competition
at defiance.

The merits of this eminent
writer were rivalled by the vir-
tues of his private life. His
friends in his society felt none of
that reserve and uneasiness that
great intellect naturally inspires.
His mild and unassuming manners
so rarely associated with superior
talents, and his hospitable heart,
rendered him the delight and or-
nament of friendship. It was in
the endearing recesses of do-
mestic life, where the heart

warm with confidence, expands
and unfolds, that the character of
the deceased shone with its love-
liest lustre. It was in the culti-
vation of those domestic endear-
ments indescribable but by ap-
ealing to the bosom of the friend,
the parent and the husband, and
which Thomson so beautifully
expresses by the general terms,
“fire side enjoyments, home
born happiness,” that he delight-
ed to participate. Benevolence
was not with him a sudden im-
pulse of passion, that subsides
with its cause, but a steady rule
and systematic principle of action.
He had been so used to consider
the happiness of a friend as form-
ing an integral part of his own,
that he laboured with the same
zeal and perseverance to promote
it, that others do from selfish mo-
tives alone. We may be well
assured that characters of this
kind, were not formed to amass
wealth, or to catch the fleeting
and evanescent popularity of the
day—it may be said without the
slightest trespass upon truth, that
they are above the exercise of
those acts that secure the poses-
ion of both. They are formed
for higher rewards, the approba-
tion of those who know how to
estimate worth, and a self-approv-
ing conscience. Some may re-
gard this as a portrait drawn from
fancy, would to heaven that it
was! While the literary world
has lost a member whose genius
amused, delighted and instructed,
the circle of his private friends
have been bereaved of its bright-
est ornament, and both will con-
fess this is no panegyric on the
memory of Brown.

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