s of the phrase than one. They did a great service to our
scientific enterprise, in issuing the _Medical Repository_, the earliest
journal of that kind, in the country. A literary periodical, of many years
duration, was also printed by them, called the _New-York Magazine_. It was
remarkable for the contributions of a society, self-named the Drone.
Brockden Brown, William Dunlap, Anthony Bleucker, Josiah Ogden Hoffman,
and James Kent (afterwards the great Chancellor), were among the writers.
William Johnson, the well-known Reporter, who died recently, was the last
survivor of this club. Their store for a number of years was a rendezvous
for professional men of different callings--divines, physicians, lawyers,
with a sprinkling of the professed authors of those times, as Clifton,
Low, Davis, &c. Its theological feature was its strongest; and the
interest of episcopacy were here descanted on with the unction of
godliness, by such men as Seabury of Connecticut, and Moore of New-York,
with good old Dr. Bowden, and Dr. Hawks, my friends Drs. Berrian and
McVicker of Columbia College, and the energetic Bishop Hobart, the busiest
and most stirring man I ever knew. The Messrs. Swords were largely
occupied in printing works on divinity, and were confessed the printers of
sound orthodoxy long before "the novelties which disturb our peace" had
invoked polemical controversy.

I should do injustice to my feelings were I in this rapid sketch to
overlook the late James Eastburn, the founder of the first reading-room on
a becoming scale, in this country, and the publisher of the American
edition of the Edinburgh and London Quarterly Reviews. He was a gentleman
deserving of much estimation, of bland manners, and enthusiastic in his
calling. He was curious in antiquarian literature and a great importer of
the older authors. Many are the libraries enriched by his perseverance.
Consumption wasted his generous frame, and he died at a comparatively
early age, to the deep regret of the scholar and the philanthropist.

I should like, before I close this portion of these reminiscences, to
awaken recollections of one or two other estimable individuals with whom I
was long acquainted--George F. Hopkins and Jonathan Seymour. Hopkins merits
a biography; he justly boasted that his edition of Robertson's Charles V.
was the most accurately printed work of the time. He was fastidious almost
to a fault in typographical neatness. He printed only works of po