In 1888, our author published a valuable "Biography of the Class of 1835 of Princeton College," the class in which he graduated. The "Poems" were published in 1882. Looking through the latter volume, which contains many treasures, we wonder how, many of the poems—written as they were under the influence of a higher inspiration than ordinary rhythmic influences—should not earlier have found their way, in book form, from the writer's secret drawers to the readers of the outside world. Many of these poems are connected with experiences and memories of Academic days in Princeton and, among them all we would mention "The Close of the Centennial;" "Living on a Farm," which refers to Mrs. Howland's farm, long the poet's home in boyhood; "14th February, 1877;" "The Hickory Tree," and "Polly," in which the writer has caught wonderfully the bright, playful spirit of the child. The poem "Morristown," a pictorial reminiscence, we have selected to open this book.
Quite recently, (in September, 1892) has been published and bound in true orange color, An Address, read before the New York Genealogical and Biographical Society, on February 12th, 1892, on the life and public services of William Paterson, his honored grandfather, who was "Attorney-General of New Jersey during the Revolution, a framer of the Federal Constitution, Senator of the United States from New Jersey, Governor of that State, and an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States at the time of his death, September 9th, 1806." "He was the first Alumnus of Princeton," says the writer, "who was tendered a place in the Cabinet or on the Federal Judiciary, the Attorney-General, the first one being William Bradford, also an Alumnus, a classmate of Madison, and Collegemate of Burr, then not constituting part of the Executive household." "He began the study of legal science and practice under the instruction of Richard Stockton, who was an Alumnus of the first Class that went forth from the College of New Jersey, then located in Newark, and who, though young, comparatively, was rising fast to the forefront of his profession, and, afterward, to become of renowned judicial and revolutionary fame."
The publication is full of interest, graphic description and notice of men and events of the period. Here is a letter to Aaron Burr, between whom while a student in the College at Princeton, and Mr. Paterson, then established in the practice of his profession, had sprung up a strong friendship which continued during life:
"Princeton, January 17th, 1772. Dear Burr: I am just ready to leave and therefore cannot wait for you. Be pleased to accept of the enclosed notes on dancing. If you pitch upon it as the subject of your next discourse, they may furnish you with a few hints, and enable you to compose with greater facility and despatch. To do you any little service in my power, will afford me great satisfaction, and I hope you will take the liberty—it is nothing more, my dear Burr, than the freedom of a friend—to call upon me whenever you may think I can. Bear with me when I say, that you cannot speak too slow. Every word should be pronounced distinctly; one should not be sounded so highly as to drown another. To see you shine as a speaker, would give great pleasure to your friends in general and to me in particular. You certainly are capable of making a good speaker.
"Dear Burr, adieu. Wm. Paterson."
The writer pays a beautiful tribute to Ireland, the land of his ancestors: "Irish Nationality," he says, "is no empty dream; it goes back more than two thousand years, is as old as Christianity, and is attested by the existence of towers and monuments, giving evidence of greater antiquity than is to be found in the annals of any other country in all Europe. For centuries, Ireland sent missionaries of learning throughout the continent to herald the advent of civilization and stay the advance of barbarism, and her story is one running over with great deeds and glorious memories, with associations of poetry and art and bards, and a civilization, ante-dating that of almost any other Christian community. It cannot be claimed that the rude exploits of her early inhabitants are classic in story or in song. They acquired no territory; their island domain is but a speck of green verdure amid the waste of ocean waters, and the flash of an electric light, located on the hills where stood the ancient psaltery, could be sent throughout its length and breadth. They conquered no worlds. No manifest destiny led them to seek for wealth, applause or gain, beyond the limits of their narrow bounds. They did not so much as pass over the seas that wash their either shore. But yet in the absence of all the achievements that can gratify ambition, with no record of pomp or pageantry or power, her people bear a character more like a dream of fancy than a thing of real life, and to-day they stand as remnants of national greatness, though you may look in vain in their annals or traditions for any evidence of usurpation or of subjugation by sceptre or by sword."
Mrs. Elizabeth Clementine Kinney.
Mrs. Kinney, the mother of the poet, Edmund Clarence Stedman, and daughter of David L. Dodge of New York city, was for several years a resident of Morristown, and will long be remembered with interest and affection by her many friends. Her husband, Mr. William Burnet Kinney, not only resided here in later years, but was born at Speedwell, then a suburb of Morristown, and passed a part of his early boyhood there. To him we shall refer, in the grouping of Editors and Orators.
Mr. Kinney was a brilliant literary man and about this home in Morristown unusual talent and genius naturally grouped themselves. To it came and went the poet Stedman: in the group, we find two gifted women, daughters of Mrs. Kinney, and later on, the same genius developing itself in the son of one of these, the boy Easton, of the third generation.
Mrs. Kinney published in 1855, "Felicita, a Metrical Romance;" a volume of "Poems" in 1867; and, a few years later, a stirring drama, a tragedy in blank verse, entitled "Bianco Cappello." This tragedy is founded upon Italian history and was written during her residence abroad in 1873. While abroad, Mrs. Kinney's letters to The Newark Daily Advertiser gave her a wide reputation and were largely re-copied in London and Edinburgh journals from copies in the New York papers.