Pierpont struck out boldly for a far-off perilous and rocky shore, with
a lighthouse, in the shape of a pulpit, before him, and achieved the
"Airs of Palestine" while undergoing the process of regeneration, and
starving by inches upon what there were left of his wife's teaspoons,
which were sold one by one to pay the rent of a cheap room in Howard
Street. So poor indeed were we at one time, that we could hardly muster
enough between us to pay our bootblack.

I have already said that Mr. Pierpont had no aptitude for extemporaneous
speaking; and what was even worse, he had no hope of being able to
overcome the difficulty. Once, and once only, did I ever hear him try
his hand in that way, until many years after he had entered upon the
ministry. A club had been organized among us for literary purposes. We
were both members, and he the Vice-President. We called ourselves the
Delphians, and passed among our contemporaries for the _male_ Muses, our
number being limited to nine,--not seven, as I see it stated in the
Boston Advertiser, on the authority of our friend Paul Allen. The rest
of the story is near enough to the truth, although the verses therein
mentioned were written by Mr. Pierpont as a volunteer offering, after
the Della-Cruscan school, or manner of "Laura Matilda," and not upon the
spur of the occasion, as there related, nor as a trial of wit; and the
last line should be, "Pulls where'er the zephyr _roves_"--not, as given
there, "Pulls where'er the zephyr moves."

It was in this club that Mr. Pierpont first tried himself--and the
brethren--with extemporaneous speaking. It was a pitiable failure, worse
if possible than my own, and I never made another attempt. Even General
Winder, who was a fine advocate, and a capital speaker before a jury,
boggled wretchedly before the club, and our President, Watkins, who was
said to be exceedingly eloquent before the great Masonic lodges, where