It is no part of my plan to speak of his poetical reputation.  This I leave to others better able to do him justice.  Indeed, he had nearly abandoned poetical composition before our acquaintance began.  But it is safe, perhaps, to say here, that his writings have placed him among the first of our national poets; and had he resumed this species of composition, he could scarcely have failed of maintaining, in the fullest manner, his poetic fame.  He possessed all the qualities reckoned essential to poetical excellence.  We have already spoken of his astonishing memory, a trait regarded of such importance to the poet by the ancients as to have led them to call the Muses the daughters of this mental faculty.  His powers of abstraction and imagination were no less remarkable,—­while for extreme sensitiveness he was unsurpassed.  His judgment was clear, and his appreciation of language refined to the last degree.  His musical feeling, too, as well of time as of harmony, was intense; while he had at command the universal stores of literature and science.

In closing these reminiscences, I cannot avoid noticing some of the useful impressions exerted by Percival upon the literary community amidst which he passed so large a portion of his life.  To some the influence of such a recluse will doubtless seem insignificant.  The reverse, however, I am persuaded, was the fact.  Few students came to New Haven without bringing with them, imprinted on their youthful memories, some beautiful line of his poetry.  Few had not heard of his universal scholarship and profound learning.  Next to an acquaintance with the teachers from whom they expected to derive their educational training, their curiosity led them to inquire for Percival.  The sight of this modest, shrinking individual, as the possessor of such mines of intellectual wealth, it may well be understood, produced the deepest interest.  In him they recognized a man superior to the clamor of vulgar gratification; his indifference to gain, to luxury, and every form of display, his constant preference of the spiritual over the sensual, was always an impressive example to them.  The indigent student took fresh courage as he saw in him to what a narrow compass exterior wants might be reduced; the man of fashion and the fop stood abashed before the simplicity of his dress and daily life.  And wherever the spirit of classic literature had been imbibed, and the capacity acquired of perceiving the severe worth of the true philosopher, the inspection of such a character, compared with the mere description of it in history, was like the difference between a statue and a living, breathing man.  As at early dawn or in the gray twilight his slender form glided by, the thoughtful and poetic scholar could scarce refrain from uttering to himself,—­“There goes Diogenes or Chrysippus!  There goes one, by the side of whom many a bustler in letters is only a worthless drone, many an idolized celebrity a weak and pitiful sham!” Such a character as Percival’s, in the presence of a scholastic community, was a perpetual incentive to industry and manliness; and although he rarely spoke in its hearing, and has left us fewer published works than many others, still I believe that thousands yet live to thank him for lessons derived from the simple survey of his daily life.