THE 
 
 COLUMBIAN ^ 
 
 PLUTARCH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 AN EXEiMPLIFICATION 
 
 OF SEVERAL DISTINGUISHED 
 
 A] 
 
 BY THOMAS WOODWARD. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA:^ 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, 
 
 By Clark & Raser. 
 1819. 
 
 y 
 
ii'astern District of Pennsylvania, to -wit : 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twentieth day of November, in the 
 forty-fourth year of the independence of the United States of America, A. D. 1819, 
 Thomas Woodward, of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title of a 
 book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words following, to wit: 
 
 "The Columbian Plutarch; or, an exemplification of several distinguished 
 American Characters, By Thomas Woodward." 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " An 
 Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, 
 and Books, to the authors.^nd proprietors of such copies, during the times therein 
 
 mentioned." — And also to the act, entitled, " An Act supplementary to an Act, 
 
 entitled, ' An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of 
 
 "' ■ ." . ■ e authors and proprietors of such copies during the 
 
 extending the benefits thereof to the arts of desig^n- 
 
 ijtoncal and other prints." 
 
 •-^ac-a -2 irtli.,?' CALDWELL, 
 
 ' '""xneft OTme Easlfern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the 
 time^ therein mentioned,' and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of desig^n- 
 ing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Biography, or that species of writing which 
 * jcords the Hves and actions of illustrious men, 
 1 s ever been esteemed as one of the most use- 
 i a branches of literature, and cultivated with a 
 high and fond devotion. By all who are versed 
 hi the knowledge of antiquity it is well known, 
 vmt no writings were more highly esteemed by 
 
 e ancients than the biographical productions 
 of Nepos and Plutarch, and they still continue 
 to be read with peculiar interest and delight 
 and to rank with the first ornaments of classical 
 learning. The lives and actions of those distin- 
 guished men, which they so ably record, still 
 command admiration. For the homage and ap- 
 plause, which persons obtain by the achieve- 
 ment of events of importance and of lasting ad- 
 vantage to their country, or to mankind in gene- 
 ral, cannot be restrained by any lapse of time. 
 They have ever been bestowed by all civilized 
 nations, and will be perpetuated by the enlight- 
 ened of every succeeding age. 
 
IV IKTRODUCTIOK. 
 
 " The principal end of biography/' says a late 
 writer, "is threefold; to delight, to instruct, and 
 to stimulate. The first of these objects is effected 
 chiefly by a recital of the actions, and a view of 
 the virtues and dispositions of eminent men, con- 
 nected with an account of the various incidents 
 and events of their lives; the second, by a faith- 
 ful representation of the methods, and measures, 
 by which their eminence was gradually attained; 
 and the third, by holding forth the honours con- 
 ferred on them, and the consideration they had 
 acquired in the world, as incentives to awaken the 
 emulation of others. When biography has accom- 
 plished this treble purpose, besides doing justice 
 to distinction and worth, and gratifying that 
 universal and laudable curiosity, which is so 
 eager to be made acquainted with the lives of 
 great men, she encourages the timid, gives hope 
 to the desponding, rouses the inactive, furnishes 
 the enterprising with a chart for their conduct, 
 and teaches every one to turn to the best account, 
 the powers and means with which he is en- 
 trusted.^' 
 
 Nor is biography interesting only when the 
 most amiable and distinguished characters are 
 the subjects of notice. Dr. Johnson says, " There 
 has, perhaps, scarcely passed a hfe, of which a 
 
INTRODICTION, V 
 
 judicious and faitliful narrative would not be 
 useful. For not only every man has, in the 
 mighty mass of the world, great numbers in the 
 same condition with himself, to whom his mis- 
 takes and miscarriages, escapes and expedients, 
 would be of immediate and apparent use; but 
 there is such an uniformity in the state of man, 
 considered apart from adventitious and separa- 
 ble decorations and disguises, that there is scarce 
 any possibility of good or ill but is common to 
 human kind." 
 
 Among modern nations which have been pro- 
 lific in truly illustrious characters, America has 
 produced her full share. The people of the 
 land of Washington, Franklin, Rittenhouse, 
 Rush, and Hamilton, may dispute the palm of 
 philosophy, and patriotism, with any other na- 
 tion of the globe. 
 
 The object of this publication is to extend 
 3ome information respecting several of the most 
 eminent and distinguished men in North Ame- 
 rica, from its first discovery to the present time. 
 For the biographical memoirs contained in this 
 collection, the author is principally indebted to 
 Dr. Rees' Cyclopaedia, Allen's Biographical Dic- 
 tionary, and Delaplaine's Repository of the Lives 
 ind Portraits of Distinguished American Cha- 
 
vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 racters. The latter work ranks high in the lite 
 rature of our country. It contains the best his 
 torical delineations of character that have beei 
 written, perhaps, in any language. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Life of Columbus 
 Vesputius 
 J. Cabot 
 S. Cabot 
 Cartier . 
 Smith 
 Robinson 
 G. Calvert 
 L. Calvert 
 Penn 
 Bartram 
 Benezet 
 Warren 
 Greene 
 Franklin 
 Hancock 
 Rittenhouse 
 Wayne 
 Washington 
 Henry 
 S. Adams 
 Hamilton 
 Wythe . 
 Ames 
 Dr. Rush 
 Dr. Ramsay 
 J. Adams 
 Jefferson 
 
THE 
 
 COLUMBIAN PLUTARCH. 
 
 LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 It is said by a late writer, that, " were the 
 influence and consequences of human actions 
 regarded as a correct standard for the admea- 
 surement of the characters of those who per- 
 form them, Christopher Columbus could not 
 fail to occupy, by universal consent, the loftiest 
 station on the scale of greatness: for, by the 
 sternest of his persecutors and the bitterest oi" 
 •his enemies, were they now living, it could not 
 be denied, that the affairs and general condition 
 of mankind have been already more extensively 
 and permanently modified by the discovery of 
 America, than by any other event recorded in 
 history. Nor have the effects of this discovery 
 been as yet experienced in their final amount. 
 The great work is still in progress; and what 
 the issue of it may be, at some distant period, 
 when the whole of the new world shall have 
 been inhabited for centuries by civilized man, 
 it belongs not to the foresight of mortals to dis- 
 cern. Calculation is confounded, and conjec- 
 
 A 
 
LIFE OF COJ.UMBTJS. 
 
 ture itself lost in the vastness and variety of the 
 prospect." 
 
 Christopher Columbus, a native of the re- 
 public of Genoa, was born in the year 1447. 
 His ancestors, having had recourse to a sea- 
 jaring life for support, Columbus, at an early 
 age, discovered such peculiar talents for that 
 profession, as indicated his future greatness. 
 Ilis parents encouraged his original propensity 
 by giving him a suitable education. After ac- 
 quiring a knowledge of the Latin tongue, the 
 only language through the medium of which 
 learning and science were at that time incul- 
 cated, he was instructed in geometr}^ cosmogra- 
 phy, astronomy, and the art of drawing. To 
 these he applied with sucb- ardour and attach- 
 ment, on account of their connexion with navi- 
 gation, his ftwourite object, that he made rapid 
 proficiency in them. ~ — 
 
 At the age of fourteen he went to sea, and 
 tliough his first voyages were confined to the 
 Mediterranean, yet he very soon ventured out 
 on the northern seas, and visited the coasts of 
 Iceland, to which the English and other nations 
 resorted on account of its fishery. About the 
 year 1467, he entered into the service of a sea 
 captain of his own name and family, and spent 
 some years in a predatory warfare against the 
 Mahometans and Venetians, the rivals of his 
 country in trade. In this situation he continued 
 acquiring both wealth and reputation, till at 
 length in an obstinate engagement with some 
 Venetian vessels, otf the coast of Portugal, the 
 
LIFE OF COLUMBUS. S 
 
 ship in which he served took fire, and he, with 
 difficulty, preserved his hie by throwing himself 
 into the sea, and swimming a distance of two 
 leagues to the shore. As soon as he had re- 
 covered strength for the journey, he repaired 
 to Lisbon, where his brother Bartholomew had 
 settled, and where he found many of his coun- 
 trymen, who, like himself, had embarked in the 
 sea service. Here his merit and talents were 
 soon appreciated ; and here he married the 
 daughter of Perestrello, a chosen follower of 
 prince Henry of Portugal, and a naval charac- 
 ter of high celebrity, who had been himself con- 
 cerned in the discovery of Madeira, Porto Santo, 
 and other islands. Columbus got possession of 
 the journals and charts of this experienced na- 
 vigator, and from them he learned the course 
 which the Portuguese had held in making their 
 discoveries, as well as the various circumstances 
 which guided and encouraged them in their at- 
 tempts. While he contemplated the labours of 
 his father-in-law, and read the description of the 
 countries which he had seen, his own impatience 
 to visit them became irresistible. To indulge it 
 he made a voyage to Madeira, and for several 
 years traded with that island, with the Canaries, 
 the Azores, the settlements in Guinea, and all 
 other places which the Portuguese had disco- 
 vered on the continent of Africa. 
 
 By the experience acquired during such a 
 variety of voyages, Columbus became one of the 
 most skilful navigators of Europe. But his am- 
 bition did not permit him to rest satisfied with 
 
4 lilTE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 that praise. A project had been conceived ol" 
 finding out a passage by sea to tlie East Indies. 
 The accomplishment of this became a favourite 
 object with Columbus. The scheme of the Por- 
 tuguese was to open a route to India by passing 
 round the south point of Africa, the possibility 
 of reaching it by steering to the west having 
 never been agitated even as a subject of conjec- 
 ture, until it occurred to the fertile mind of Co- 
 lumbus — a grand and most felicitous thought^ 
 whicli led to the discovery of another world. 
 
 The principles and arguments which induced 
 him to adopt this opinion, then considered as 
 chimerical, were highly rational and philosophi- 
 cal. The sphericity and magnitude of the earth, 
 were at that period ascertained with some de- 
 gree of accuracy. From this it was evident 
 that the continents of Europe, Asia,- and Africa, 
 formed but a small part of the terraqueous globe. 
 It appeared likewise extremely probable, that 
 the continent on the one side of the globe, was 
 balanced by a proportionable quantity of land in 
 the other hemisphere. These conclusions con- 
 cerning the existence of another continent, drawn 
 from the figure and structure of the globe, 
 were confirmed by the observations and conjec- 
 tures of modern 'navigators, and from pieces of 
 timber aitificially carved, canes of an unusual 
 size, large uprooted trees, and the dead bodies 
 of two men, differing exceedingly in features 
 and complexion from the natives of Europe and 
 Africa, which had been discovered and taken up 
 floating before a westerly wind, or driven on the 
 
I.lFll OF tOLl-MBl S. 
 
 coasts ol' the Azores. The force of this united 
 evidence, arising from theoretical principles and 
 practical observations, led Columbus to con- 
 clude, that by sailing directly towards the west, 
 across the Atlantic ocean, new countries, which 
 probably formed a part of the vast continent of 
 India, must infallibly be discovered. 
 
 As early as the year 1474, he connnunicated 
 his ingenious theory to Paul Foscannelli, a learn- 
 ed physician of Florence. He warndy approved 
 of the plan; suggested several facts in confirma- 
 tion of it, and encouraged Colutnbus to perse- 
 vere in an undertaking so laudable, and which 
 must redound so much to the honour of his 
 country, and the benefit of Europe. 
 
 Having established his theoiy and formed his 
 design, he became anxious to procure the pa- 
 tronage and support of some European power 
 capable of undertaking so important an enter- 
 prise. With this view, he laid his scheme be- 
 ibre the senate of Genoa, and making his na- 
 tive and beloved country the first tender of his 
 service, oftered to sail, under the banners of the 
 republic, in quest of new regions, which he ex- 
 pected to discover. But they, incapable of form- 
 ing just ideas of his principles, inconsiderately 
 rejected his proposal as chimerical. He then 
 submitted his plan to the Portuguese, who per- 
 tidiously attempted to rob him of the honour of 
 accomplishing it, by privately sending another 
 person to pursue the same track which he had 
 proposed. But the pilot, who was thus basely 
 employed to execute Columbus' plan, had neither 
 a2 
 
6 tlFE 01' CfOtrMBUS. 
 
 the genius nor the fortitude of its author. Con- 
 trary winds arose — no land appeared — his cour- 
 age failed, and he returned to Lisbon, execrating 
 a plan which he had not abilities to execute. 
 
 On discovering this flagrant treachery, Co- 
 lumbus immediately quitted the kingdom in dis- 
 gust, and landed in Spain, towards the close of 
 the year 1484. Here he resolved to propose it 
 in person to Ferdinand and Isabella, who at that 
 time governed the united kingdoms of Castile 
 and Arragon; and, that no effort towards the 
 accomplishment of his object might be wanting, 
 he, at the same time, despatched his brother 
 Bartholomew to England, to solicit the patron- 
 age of Henry VH. 
 
 After experiencing, during eight tedious years, 
 a series of mortifying^ disappointments, occasion- 
 ed by the ignorance, the evil passions, and, above 
 all, the interests of those around him, he in deep 
 anguish withdrew from court, determined to re- 
 pair to England as his last resource. At this 
 juncture the affairs of Spain, which had been 
 perplexed in consequence of a war with the 
 Moors, took a favourable turn. Q,uiutaniiia and 
 Santangel, two powerful, vigilant and discerning 
 patrons of Columbus, seized this favourable op- 
 portunity to make one more effort in belialf of 
 their friend. They addressed themselves to Isa- 
 bella with such forcible arguments as produced 
 the desired effect. The queen^s doubts and fears 
 were dispelled, and she ordered Columbus, who 
 had entered on his journey, to be instantly re- 
 called, declared her resolution to employ him 
 
LIFE OF COJLUMBUS. 7 
 
 on his own terms, and regretting the low state 
 of her linances, generously offered to pledge her 
 own jewels, in order to raise as much money as 
 might be needed in making preparations for the 
 voyage. Santangel, in order to save iier from 
 having recourse to such a mortifying expedient 
 for procuring money, engaged to advance, im- 
 mediately, the sum that was requisite. In the 
 spring of 1492, a treaty was signed with Colum- 
 bus, by which Ferdinand and Isabella, the sove- 
 reigns of Spain, appointed him their high admi- 
 ral in all the seas he should discover, and their 
 viceroy in all the islands and continents. They 
 granted him and his heirs a tentli of ail the pro- 
 fits that should accrue fiom the enterprise, WMth 
 some other important advantages. As soon as 
 the treaty was signed, Isabella, by her activity 
 and attention in forwarding the preparations for 
 the voyage, endeavoured to make some repara- 
 tion to Columbus for the time which he had lost 
 in fruitless solicitation. 
 
 On the third of August, 1492, Columbus set 
 sail, with three small ships and ninety men; an 
 armament, suitable neither to tlie dignity of the 
 power who equipped it, nor to tiie importance 
 of the service to which it was destined. The 
 sum expended in fitting out this squadron did 
 not exceed sfe'4000 sterling. He had already, in 
 the most public manner, implored the guidance 
 and protection of Heaven, and on the morning 
 of his departure the shores were crowded with 
 spectators, who sent up their supplications to the 
 Almighty for the prosperous issue of the voyage. 
 
8 LIFE OF COLUMBLS. 
 
 Columbus steered directly for the Canaries, 
 where, on account of the ill condition of the 
 ships, he was obliged to refit. Having supplied 
 himself with fresh provisions, he sailed from Go- 
 mera, one of the most westerly of the Canary 
 islands, on the sixth day of September, and here 
 properly commenced the voyage of discovery. 
 lie held his course due west, and immediately 
 left the usual track of navigation, and stretched 
 into unknown and unfrequented seas, with no 
 other guide than well founded hopes and ra- 
 tional conjectures. 
 
 Scarcely had he lost sight of the Canaries, 
 when several of his men exhibited signs of con- 
 sternation bordering on despair. He comforted 
 them with the vast wealth which was to be found 
 in those regions whithei' he was conducting, and 
 in his own person he set such an example of 
 patience and industry, as could not fail of ex- 
 citing the admiration of those about him. Scarce- 
 ly did he allow himself time for necessary refresh- 
 ments: he regulated every thing; he superin- 
 tended the execution of every order, and kept 
 the deck with the sounding line or instrument 
 ibr observation perpetually in his hand, and 
 noting down every unusual appearance with the 
 utmost accuracy and precision. It was now that 
 for the iirst time the magnetic needle was seen 
 to swerve from its polar direction. This event, 
 which disquieted not a little even Columbus him- 
 self, was regarded by his followers as a certain 
 manifestation of the anger of Heaven. Nature 
 heiself, they said, was frowning on their temerity. 
 
LIFE OF COLUAIBUS. 
 
 Columbus, with no less quickness than inge- 
 nuity, invented a reason for this appearance, 
 which, though it did not satisfy himself, seemed 
 so plausible to them, that it dispelled, for a time, 
 their fears, and silenced their murmurs. 
 
 Three weeks had they traversed the ocean, 
 and had proceeded to a distance which Colum- 
 bus thought it prudent to conceal, when his men 
 became mutinous, and even threatened to throw 
 their admiral overboard, should he persist in an 
 undertaking which they supposed must prove 
 fatal to them all. He succeeded for the present 
 in quieting their apprehensions, but in a few 
 days they became more violent, declaring that 
 nothing should induce them to proceed in so 
 mad an enterprise. After trying eveiy means 
 of persuasion in vain, he at length promised to 
 direct his course homewards within three days, 
 should not land be discovered. This proposi- 
 tion did not appear unreasonable to the men, and 
 to the commander it appeared sufficiently safe, 
 for the presages of discovering land by the flight 
 of birds, &,c. vv^ere now so numerous and pro- 
 mising, that he deemed them infallible. From 
 a variety of symptoms, Columbus was so confi- 
 dent of being near land, that on the evening of 
 the eleventh of October, after the usual invoca- 
 tions to Heaven for success, he ordered the sails 
 to be furled, and the ships to lie to, keeping the 
 strictest watch, lest they should be driven on 
 shore. During this interval of suspense and ex- 
 pectation, no man shut his eyes; all kept upon 
 deck, gazing intently towards that quarter where 
 
10 LIFE OF COLUMBt'S. 
 
 land was expected to be discovered. At ten 
 o'clock, Columbus, standing on the forecastle, 
 observed a light at a distance: he pointed it out 
 to another, and he again to a third person; all 
 three saw it in motion, and at midnight there 
 was heard from the foremost vessel the joyful 
 sound of land! land! Having, however, been 
 frequently deceived by false appearances, every 
 man was slow of belief, and waited in all the 
 anguish of uncertainty and impatience for the 
 return of day. Wlien the morning dawned their 
 doubts were dispelled, and an island was seen 
 ab^ut two leagues to the north, whose verdant 
 fields, well stored with wood, and watered with 
 many rivulets, presented the aspect of a delight- 
 ful country. Thanksgivings were instantly of- 
 fered to Heaven: never was gratitude more sin- 
 cere, never were the expressions of joy more ar- 
 dent, tlian those which proceeded from every 
 tongue. Their duty to God was followed by an 
 act of justice to their commander. They threw 
 themselves at the feet of Columbus, with feel- 
 ings of self-condemnation, mingled with reve- 
 rence, entreating pardon for their past conduct; 
 and now they regarded as the favourite of Hea- 
 ven, the man wliom they lately reviled as a vi- 
 sionary and impostor. iNo sooner had the sun 
 tinged with his rays the sliores of the newly 
 discovered island, than their boats were manned 
 and armed. As they approached the coast with 
 colours, music, and martial grandeur, they saw 
 it covered with a multitude of people, whom the 
 novelty of the spectacle had drawn together. 
 
lalPJi OF COLtMBlS. Il 
 
 whose attitudes and gestures expressed wonder 
 and astonishment at tlie strange objects which 
 presented themselves to tlieir view. The land 
 proved to be one of the Bahama islands, named 
 afterwards by (.olumbus, San Salvador: he was 
 the first European who set foot in the new 
 world which he liad discovered, and he took so- 
 lemn possession of it for the crown of Castile 
 and Leon, with all the formalities which the 
 Portuguese were accustomed to observe in acts 
 of this kind, in their new discoveries. The Spa- 
 niards, while thus employed, were sun'ounded 
 by many innocent and unsuspecting natives, who 
 gazed in silent and awful admiration upon ac- 
 tions which they could not comprehend, and of 
 which they could not foresee the direful conse- 
 quences. Towards the evening, Columbus re- 
 turned to his ships, accompanied by many of the 
 islanders in their canoes. " Thus,^' says Dr. 
 Robertson, "in the first interview between the 
 inhabitants of the old and new worlds, every 
 thing was conducted amicably, and to their mu- 
 tual satisfaction. The former, enlightened and 
 ambitious, formed already vast ideas with respect 
 to the advantages which they might derive from 
 the regions that began to open to their view; the 
 latter, simple and undiscerning, had no foresight 
 of the calamities and desolation v/hich were ap- 
 proaching their country." 
 
 From San Salvador, Columbus proceeded on 
 other discoveries. He saw several islands, and 
 touched at three of the largest; on which he be- 
 stowed the names of St. Mary of the Concep- 
 
12 X.IFE OF COtlMBUS. 
 
 tion, Ferdinanda, and Isabella. He visited also 
 Cuba and Hispaniola. Wherever he went he 
 inquired for gold, and having obtained a certain 
 quantity of the precious metal, and made other 
 arrangements, he took his departure homewards. 
 He encountered a violent tempest, in which he 
 had nearly lost his ships. While all on board 
 were overwhelmed with a sense of personal dan- 
 ger, Columbus was only anxious for the means 
 of preserving a record of his great discoveries. 
 Retiring to his cabin, he wrote an account of 
 what he had seen and done, which he covered 
 with wax, enclosed in a tight cask, and commit- 
 ted to the sea, with proper direction, hoping that 
 it might be fortunately landed on some Euro- 
 pean shore. The storm, however, ceased, and 
 in a few days he found himself approaching the 
 Azores. Here he obtained provisions, and re- 
 newed his voyage. When he was almost within 
 sight of the Spanish coast, another storm arose, 
 that forced him to take shelter in the Tagus, 
 from whence he proceeded to Lisbon, where, 
 in the presence of the king of Portugal, he nar- 
 rated every thing that he had done and seen. 
 Columbus remained at Lisbon but five days, and 
 on the fifteenth of March he arrived in the port 
 of Palos, seven months and eleven days from the 
 time when he set out tiicnce. As soon as his 
 ship was discovered, the inhabitants ran eagerly 
 to the shore, to welcome their relations and 
 fellow citizens, and to learn the tidings of their 
 voyage. Columbus repaired to the court, then 
 at Barcelona, where he was received with all 
 
lAi'E OF e»LUM>BLS. 13 
 
 the respect and honour due to his great achieve- 
 nents. Every mark of attention that gratitude 
 Dr admiration could suggt^st was conferred upon 
 lim. All his stipulated privileges were confirm- 
 ed; his family was ennobled; and, which was 
 Tiost satisfactory to his active mind, another ar- 
 nament was immediately fitted out for him, 
 rhis consisted of 17 ships, and about 1500 per- 
 sons; of whom a large number were men of dis- 
 inction, destined to settle in the newly disco- 
 ered countries. 
 
 On the twenty-fifth day of September, 14&3. 
 Columbus sailed on his second voyage from 
 Jadiz. He first reached the Caribbee or Lee- 
 vard islands, which he visited, and then pro- 
 ceeded to Ilispaniola, where he had left a small 
 garrison of his own men, but who had been cut 
 )ff, probably from misconduct on their own 
 )arts, by the natives. Instead of wasting his 
 ime in punishing past wrongs, Columbus took 
 )recautions for preventing any future injury, 
 ^^^ith this view he built a small town, which he 
 lamed Isabella, in honour of his royal patroness. 
 ^Vhile some were employed in the necessary 
 )perations of building, he sent others to explore 
 he interior of the country, in the hope of find- 
 ng gold. The hardships to which the Spaniards 
 vere obliged to submit, rendered them impatient 
 ►f control, and it was with the utmost difficulty 
 hat Columbus could maintain any subordina- 
 ion. Signs of mutiny were every where exhi- 
 )ited; and to the commander was imputed the 
 nost unworthy motives, by persons from whose 
 
 B 
 
14 LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 rank in society better and more rational conduct 
 might have been i^ expected. Having, however, 
 by prudence and vigour allayed the ferment, he 
 left his brother Diego as governor of the settle- 
 ment, and proceeded with a squadron in quest 
 of new discoveries. -- During a tedious voyage of 
 five months, in which he endured every hard- 
 ship, he discovered only the island of Jamaica. 
 
 v^But on his return to Hispaniola, he had the sa- 
 tisfaction of finding' there his brother Barthold^ 
 mew, whom he had not seen for a long period, 
 and who had brought with him a large supply 
 of provisions and men. About this time the na- 
 tive Indians, perceiving that the yoke imposed 
 upon them by the invaders would prove intole-*^ 
 rable, resolved, if possible, to free themselves^ 
 from so dreadful an evil. ^Hostilities were com- 
 menced, and much blood was shed on both sides; 
 but in the event the Indians were completely de- 
 feated. The consternation with which the In- 
 dians were filled by the noise and havoc made 
 by the fire-arms, by the impetuous force of the 
 cavalry, and the fierce onset of twenty large 
 dogs trained for the purpose, was so great, that 
 they threw down their weapons, and fied with- 
 out attempting farther resistance.'" Many were 
 slain, more wav^ taken prisoners, and reduced"^ 
 
 _ to a state of the most humiliating servitude; a 
 rigorous tax was imposed upon them of gold, 
 which was the dearest object of European am- 
 bition, and which was now become necessary to j 
 plead the cause of Columbus in Spain, where 'j 
 numerous accusations had been laid against his 
 
LIFE OF COLUMHUS. 15 
 
 eonduct. Willing, however, to meet the charges 
 in person, he invested his brother Bartholomew 
 with full power of government during his ab- 
 sence, and then set sail. He arrived in Spain in 
 1476, and innnediately appeared at court, with 
 the modest but determined conlidence of a man, 
 conscious not only of his own integrity, but of 
 having performed many very eminent services 
 for the state, in whose employment he had em- 
 barked. The dignity of his conduct silenced 
 his enemies; and, with the assistance of the gold 
 and precious commodities w^hich he had brought 
 with him, he recovered the good opinion of his 
 sovereigns. They resolved to make every exer- 
 tion to render the new colony a permanent and 
 complete establishment, by sending out such re- 
 inforcements as Columbus thought necessary 
 for the purpose. 
 
 It was not, however, till late in the spring of 
 1498, that he was enabled to proceed on his 
 third voyage; during which he discovered Tri- 
 nidad, at the mouth of the Oronoco. The vast 
 size of this river, though only ranking in the 
 third or fourth magnitude of rivers in the new 
 world, convinced him that it must have its rise 
 in a great continent. He even touched upon 
 various parts of the continent, without suspect- 
 ing it, conceiving that they belonged to islands 
 wiiich he had not leisure to explore. Columbus 
 arrived at Hispaniola in August, where he found 
 that his brother had reujoved the colony to St. 
 Domingo, on the opposite side of the island. 
 During his absence, a mutiny had been excited, 
 
16 J.IVE OF COLCMBl-'S. 
 
 and some of his people had seceded i'roni the 
 main body. To calm the discontent, he gave 
 them allotments of land, to wliich were annexed 
 distributions of natives, that proved to them an 
 intolerable source of oppression. New com- 
 plaints were secretly transmitted to court against 
 him and his brothers; and having no opportu- 
 nity of vindicating his conduct, his powers were 
 at first greatly abridged by a separate commis- 
 sion of discovery having been granted to Al- 
 phonso d'Ojeda; who was accompanied in his 
 voyage by Amerigo Vespucci, after whom the 
 new world has since been named. Columbus 
 was then recalled, and Francis de Bovadilla ap- 
 pointed in his stead. By his unworthy and inso- 
 lent successor, Columbus was thrown in chains, 
 and treated with other indignities, which have 
 for ever disgraced the court that granted to him 
 so much power. The captain of the ship, to 
 whose charge Columbus was given, offered, in 
 the most respectful manner, to liberate him, but 
 he indignantly refused to suffer his chains to be 
 removed, but by the express command of his 
 sovereigns. On his arrival in Spain, he was in- 
 stantly set at liberty, and treated with that civi- 
 lity and kindness from the king and queen which 
 he had formerly experienced. Bovadilla was 
 disgraced, but Columbus could not forget the 
 injuries which he had sustained; he continued 
 afterwards to carry these fetters with him where- 
 ever he went — they hung in his chamber, and 
 he ordered them to be laid with his body in the 
 grave. 
 
LI IE OF COLUMBUS. 17 
 
 In 1502, he obtained permission to make a 
 fourth voyage, and on arriving off St. Domingo, 
 he found a fleet of 18 ships, richly laden, ready to 
 depart for th-e continent of Europe. His own 
 experience led him to perceive an approaching 
 storm; he accordingly requested permission to 
 enter the harbour, and at the same time warned 
 the fleet of the dangers to which it would infalli- 
 bly be exposed by sailing at that juncture. His 
 request and advice were both disiegarded. Ttie 
 tempest came on, and though, by proper precau- 
 tions, he saved his own vessels, it fell upon the 
 fleet with so much violence, that only two or 
 (hrce vessels escaped; and Bovadilla, with seve- 
 ral others of his most inveterate enemies, pe- 
 rished with all theii- ill-gotten wealtli. Among 
 the vessels that weathered the storm, was that 
 on which the remnant of the admiral's fortune 
 was embarked. 
 
 In pursuing his voyage, he traced the coast of 
 Darien, in hopes of discovering a strait, which 
 he fondly imagined would open a new track to 
 the East Indies. Although he was disappointed 
 ill iiis expectations, he was, nevertheless, so 
 much delighted with the fertility of tlie country, 
 and conceived such an idea of its wealth, from 
 the specimens of gold produced by the natives, 
 tfiat he resolved to leave a small colony upon 
 the river Belem, in the province of Perague, 
 under the command of his brother, and to re- 
 turn to Spain, to procure the means requisite 
 (or rendering the establishment permanent. On 
 his voyage, he was driven back by a violent 
 b2 
 
18 J.itK Ul COJXMlitsi. 
 
 tempest from the coast of Cuba, his ships iell 
 foul of one another, and were so much shattered 
 by the shock, that with the utmost difficuhy they 
 reached Jamaica. Here he endured the great- 
 est calamities, as well from the mutinous dispo- 
 sitions of his own men, as from the suspicions of 
 the natives, who refused to supply hinj with pro- 
 visions, till, by his skill in astronomy, he predict- 
 ed the event of an approaching echpse, a circum- 
 stance that gave him an irresistible authority 
 over their minds. From this time he was great- 
 ly venerated by the natives, who not only fur- 
 nished him profusely with provisions, but cau- 
 tiously avoided every thing that could give him 
 oifence. Columbus was at length dehvered by 
 a fleet sent from Hispaniola; and, after various 
 difficulties, he arrived at St. Lucar, in Spain, in 
 December, 1 504. Here, in addition to his other 
 sufferings, he learned that his patroness, Isa- 
 bella, was dead: from her alone he anticipated 
 the redress of his wrongs, which he little ex- 
 pected from the king. To him, however, as the 
 last resort, he applied, who amused him with 
 promises, but who, instead of granting his claims, 
 insulted him with the proposal of renouncing 
 them all for a very limited pension. 
 
 Disgusted with the ingratitude of a monarch 
 whom he had served with fidelity and success; 
 exhausted with the calamities which he had en- 
 dured, and broken with the infirmities which 
 these brought upon him, Columbus, having in- 
 dignantly withdrawn himself from court, ex- 
 pired at Valladolid, on the twentieth of May, 
 
LIFK OF COLUMBUS. l\f 
 
 1506, in the fifty-ninth year of his age. In his 
 last moments he exhibited a dignified compo- 
 sure a'lid serenity of mind suitable to the great- 
 ]iess of his character, and to those sentiments of 
 piety which he had ever cherished in all the 
 trials to which his life had been exposed. Fer- 
 dinand, who had slighted his well founded claims 
 when living, bestowed on him distinguished fu- 
 neral honours, and confirmed to his descendants 
 their hereditary rights. This illustrious man is 
 buried in the cathedral at Seville, where a mo- 
 nument is erected to his memory, on whicli is 
 inscribed the following epitaph, " Here lies 
 Columbus, who gave to Xastile and Leon a 
 new world;" the most exalted eulogy, yet per- 
 fectly just, that ever mortal has meiited or re- 
 ceived. 
 
 In the character of Columbus were combined 
 the qualities which constitute greatness. He 
 possessed a lofty, comprehensive and well cul- 
 tivated mind. He was fond of great enterprises, 
 and capable of prosecuting them with the most 
 unwearied patience. He surmounted difficul- 
 ties, which would have entirely discouraged per- 
 sons of less firmness and constancy of spirit. 
 His invention extricated him from many per- 
 plexities, and his prudence enabled him to con- 
 ceal or subdue his own infirmities, whilst he 
 took advantage of the passions of others. No 
 man, perhaps, ever possessed in a higher degree 
 the important art of rendering others subser'- 
 vient to his purposes, or of adapting his conduct 
 to the nature of emergencies — commanding or 
 
LIFE t)F COLUMBUS. 
 
 conceding, temporizing or acting with vigour, 
 as circumstances required. He was, moreovei, 
 a man of undaunted courage. 
 
 Columbus was of a lofty stature, a long visage, 
 and a majestic aspect: his nose was aquiline, his 
 eyes grey, and his complexion clear and some- 
 what ruddy. He was a man of wit and pleasan- 
 try, in his habits sociable, and in his conversa- 
 tion elegant and refined. His presence attracted 
 respect, having an air of authority and grandeur. 
 In his diet he was plain, in his drink temperate, 
 and in his days rich but not ostentatious. 
 
 He was ever faithful to the ungrateful mo- 
 narch whom he served, and whose dominions 
 he enlarged. His magnanimity and benevolence 
 were constantly extended to those within his 
 sphere. 
 
 Justinianus, in his edition of the Polyglot 
 Psalter, 1516, of which a beautiful copy is pre- 
 served in the Cracherode Collection in the Bri- 
 tish Museum, has introduced, by way of com- 
 mentary on Psalm xix. 4, " their words are gone 
 forth to the ends of the earth," a very curious 
 sketch of the life of Columbus, on account of 
 Ills discovery of America, and also a description 
 of the inhabitants, particularly of the female na- 
 tive Americans. 
 
LiFE or VESPtM'irs. 21 
 
 VESPUTIUS. 
 
 Ameuicus Vesputius, (more correctly Ame- 
 rigo Vespucci,) a Florentine gentleman, from 
 whom America derives its name, was born in 
 the year 1451, of an ancient and respectable fa- 
 mily. His father, who was an Italian merchant, 
 brought him up in this business, and his profes- 
 sion led him to visit Spain and several other 
 countries. Being eminently versed in the sci- 
 ences and arts subservient to navigation, and 
 possessing an enterprising spirit, he became de- 
 sirous of visiting the new world, which Colum- 
 bus had discovered in 1492. He accordingly 
 entered as a merchant on board a small fleet of 
 four ships, equipped by the merchants of Se- 
 ville, and sent out under the command of Ojeda. 
 The enterprise was sanctioned by a royal li- 
 cense. 
 
 Vesputius, according to his own account, sail- 
 ed from Cadiz on the 20th of May, 1497, and 
 returned to the same port, October the 15th, 
 1498; having in the interim discovered the coast 
 of Paria, and penetrated as far as the Gulf of 
 Mexico. If this statement be correct, he saw 
 the continent before Columbus, who did not 
 discover it till 1498; but its coirectness is con- 
 troverted, and there exist strong grounds of be- 
 lief that the date of Ojeda's first voyage was 
 1499. 
 
 During this adventm-e. so rapidly did Vespu- 
 
Z"2 LIFE OF VKSPITIUS. 
 
 tius improve in the science of navigation and 
 the art of practical seamanship, as to gain the 
 reputation of an able captain; and he seems to 
 have acquired such authority among his compa- 
 nions, that they considered him as having tlie 
 principal share in directing their operations du- 
 ring the voyage. 
 
 Vesputius dates the commencement of his se- 
 cond voyage, under the auspices of Ferdinand 
 and Isabella, in which he commanded six ships^ 
 on the 11th of May, 1499. Re proceeded first 
 to tlie Antilles, thence to the coast of Guiana 
 and Venezuela, and returned to Cadiz in the 
 month of November, 1 500. He retired to Se- 
 ville, receiving little acknowledgment from the 
 Spaniards for his services, and was deeply af- 
 fected by their ingratitude. 
 
 Emanual, king of Portugal, who was jealous 
 of the success and glory of Spain, and ambitious 
 to become her rival in the career of adventure, 
 on receiving information of the neglect and in- 
 justice which Vesputius had experienced, and 
 Jiis dissatisfaction on account of them, invited 
 him to his court, and gave him the command of 
 three ships, to make a third voyage of disco- 
 very. He sailed from Lisbon on the 10th of 
 May, 1501, and ran down the coast of Afiica 
 as far as Angola, and then passed over to Bra- 
 zil in South America, and continued his disco- 
 veries to the south as far as Patagonia. He then 
 returned by the way of Sieri'a Leone and the 
 coast of Guinea, and entered again the port of 
 Lisbon on the 7th of September, 1502. 
 
LIFE OF VESPtTIL'S. 
 
 King Emanual, eminently gratified by liis suc- 
 cess, equipped for him six ships, witii wliicli he 
 sailed on his fourth and last voyage, May 10, 
 1503. The discovery of a western passage to 
 the Molucco islands was the particular object of 
 this adventure. He passed tlie coast of Africa, 
 and entered the bay of All Saints in Brazil. 
 Having provisions on board for only 20 months, 
 and being detained on the coast of Brazil by 
 bad weather and contrary winds five montiis, he 
 formed the resolution of returning to Portugal, 
 where he arrived on the 14th of June, 1504-. 
 Notwithstanding his failure in relation to the 
 contemplated object of his voyage, he experi- 
 enced a kind and favourable reception, on ac- 
 count of the quantities of Brazil wood and other 
 articles of value with which he was freighted. 
 
 It was soon after this period, that Vesputius 
 wrote an account of his four voyages. The 
 work was dedicated to Rene H. duke of Lor- 
 raine, who took the title of king of Sicily, and 
 who died on the 10th of December, 1508. It 
 was published about the year 1507; and in that 
 year he again retired to Seville, and received 
 from Ferdinand of Spain the appointment of de- 
 Hneator of sea charts, under the title of chief 
 pilot of the kingdom. He died at the island of 
 Tercera, in 1514, aged about sixty-three years. 
 
 As he published the first chart of the conti- 
 nent, and asserted in his narrative that he saw it 
 as early as the year 1497, the new world has re- 
 ceived from him the name of America. His 
 pretensions, however, to this first discovery, do 
 
24 LIPE OF VliSPUTIUS. 
 
 not seem to be well supported against the claims 
 of Columbus, to whom the honour is uniformly 
 ascribed by the Spanish historians, and who first 
 saw the continent in 1498. 
 
 Herrara, whose reputation for veracity is held 
 unimpeachable, and who is understood to have 
 compiled his general history of America from 
 the most authentic records, says, that Vesputius 
 never made but two voyages to the new Avorld — 
 both of them with Ojeda; the first in 1499, and 
 the second in 1501; and that his relation of his 
 other voyages was proved to be a mere imposi- 
 tion. This charge needs to be confirmed by 
 strong proof, for Vesputius published his book 
 within ten years of the period assigned for his 
 first voyage, when the facts must have been fresh 
 in the memories of thousands. Besides the im- 
 probability of his being guilty of falsifying dates, 
 as he was accused, wiiich arises from this cir- 
 cumstance, it is very possible, that the Spanish 
 writers might have felt a national resentment 
 against him, for having deserted the service of 
 Spain. But the evidence against his claims to 
 the discovery of the western continent is very 
 convincing. Neither Martyr nor Benzoni, who 
 were Italians, natives of the same country, and 
 the former his own cotemporary, attribute to 
 him the first discovery of the continent. Mar- 
 tyr published the first general history of the new 
 world, and his epistles contain an account of 
 every remarkable event of the time. Ojeda him- 
 self, the commander of the first voyage in which 
 Vesputius was engaged, appears to have de- 
 
LIFE OF VESFUTIUS. 25 
 
 posed on oath, in the course of judicial inquiry, 
 .that he did not sail till 1499. Nor is this all: 
 Fonesca, who gave Ojeda the license for his 
 voyage, was not reinstated in the direction of 
 ! Indian affairs until after the time which Yespu- 
 jtius assigns for the commencement of his first 
 i voyage. Other circumstances might be men- 
 Itioned; and the whole mass of evidence it is diffi- 
 cult to resist. Yesputius, moreover, had the ad- 
 dress not to publish his narrative, wherein he 
 asserts his claim to the discovery of the new 
 continent, till about a year after the death of 
 Columbus, when his pretensions could be ad- 
 vanced without fear of refutation from that il- 
 lustrious navigator. His narrative was drawn 
 up not only with much art, but with some ele- 
 jgance. It contained judicious observations upon 
 the natural productions, the inhabitants, and the 
 customs of the countries which he had visited. 
 As it was the first description of any part of the 
 western continent that was published, a perform- 
 ance so well calculated to gratify the passion of 
 mankind for what is new and marvellous, cir- 
 'culated rapidly, and was read with admiration. 
 The country of which Vesputius was supposed 
 to be the discoverer, came gradually to be called 
 by his name. The unaccountable caprice of 
 mankind has perpetuated the error; so that now 
 by the universal consent of all nations, this new 
 quarter of the globe is called America. The 
 Iname of Americus has supplanted that of Co- 
 jumbus, and mankind are left to regret an act 
 
 c 
 
-O hlEE OF J. CABOT. 
 
 of injustice, vyhich, having been sanctioned by 
 time, they can never redress. 
 
 But even admitting Vesputius to have been 
 the fortunate European who first gained sight of 
 the new continent, it may, notwithstanding, be 
 contended, on grounds which are perfectly solid 
 and tenable, that that event did not entitle him 
 to bestow on it his name. In whatever he 
 achieved, in the career of maritime enterprise, 
 he was, strictly speaking, a dependent on Co- 
 lumbus. Had not that great adventurer first 
 opened a passage across the Atlantic, and in- 
 structed others to follow his course, neither Ves- 
 putius nor the Cabots would ever, perhaps, have 
 ventured a hundred leagues from the coast of 
 Europe. Therefore, to Columbus alone, be- 
 longed the honour of bestowing his name on 
 the continent of the west. 
 
 J. CABOT. 
 
 John Cabot, a Venetian, who first discovered 
 the continent of North America, was perfectly 
 skilkd in all the sciences requisite to form an 
 accomplished mariner. He had three sons, 
 Lewis, Sebastian, and Sanctius, all of whom he 
 educated in a manner best calculated to make 
 them able seamen. Encouraged by the success 
 of Columbus, who returned in 1493 from his 
 first voyage, he was determined to attempt the 
 discoveiy of unknown lands, particularly of a 
 northwest passage to the East Indies. 
 
LIFE OF J. CABOT. 27 
 
 Having obtained a commission from king 
 Henry VH. empowering him and his three sons 
 to discover unknown lands, and to conquer and 
 settle them, and giving him jurisdiction over the 
 countries which he should subdue, on condition 
 of paying the king one-fifth part of all the gains, 
 lie sailed from Bristol with two vessels, freighted 
 by the merchants of London and Bristol with ar- 
 ticles of traffic, and with about three hundred 
 men, in the beginning of May, 1497. He sailed 
 towards the northwest till he reached the lati- 
 tude of fifty-eight degrees, when the floating ice, 
 which he met, and the severity of the weather, 
 induced him to alter his course to the south- 
 west. 
 
 He discovered land in the morning of June 
 24th; which, as it was the first that he had seen, 
 lie called Prima Vista. This is generally sup- 
 posed to be a part of the island of Newfound- 
 land, though in the opinion of some it is a place 
 on the peninsula of Nova Scotia, in the latitude 
 of forty-five degrees. A few days afterward a 
 smaller islanil was discovered, to which he gave 
 the name of St. John, on account of its being 
 discovered on the day of St. John the Baptist. 
 
 Continuing his course westwardly, he soon 
 reached the continent, and then sailed along the 
 coast northwardly to the latitude of sixty-seven 
 and a half degrees. As the coast stretched to- 
 ward the east, he turned back, and sailed along 
 the coast toward the equator, till he came to Flo- 
 rida. The provisions now failing, and a mutiny 
 breaking out among the mariners, he returned 
 
!28 liirE OF S. CABOT. 
 
 to England without attempting a settlement or 
 conquest in any part of the new world. 
 
 S. CABOT. 
 
 Sebastian Cabot, an eminent navigator, was 
 the son of the preceding, and was born at Bristol. 
 When about twenty years of age, he accompa- 
 nied his father in the voyage of 1497, in which 
 the continent of North America was discovered. 
 About the year 1517, he sailed on another voy- 
 age of discovery, and went to the Brazils, and 
 thence to Hispaniola and Porto Rico. Failing 
 in his object of finding a way to the East Indies, 
 he returned to England. 
 
 Having been invited to Spain, where he was 
 received in the most respectful manner by king 
 Ferdinand and queen Isabella, he sailed in their 
 service on a voyage of discovery in April, 1525. 
 He visited the coast of Brazil, and entered a 
 great river, to which he gave the name of Rio 
 de la Plata. He sailed up this river one hun- 
 dred and twenty leagues. After being absent on 
 this expedition a number of years, he returned 
 to Spain in the spring of 1531. But he was not 
 well received. His rigorous treatment of some 
 mutineers, and other circumstances, had created ; 
 him enemies. He however found means to re- 
 tain the connnission of chief pilot, with which 
 he had been honoured by Ferdinand. He made 
 other voyages, of which no particular memorials 
 remain. His residence was in the city of Se- 
 
LIFE OF S. CABOT. 29 
 
 ville. His employment was the drawing of 
 charts, on whicli he delineated all the new dis- 
 coveries made by himself and others; and by his 
 office he was entrusted with the reviewing of all 
 projects for discovery. His character is said to 
 have been gentle, friendly and social, though in 
 some of his voyages a few instances of injustice 
 towards the natives, and of severity towards his 
 mariners, are recorded. 
 
 In his advanced age he returned to England 
 and resided at Bristol. He received a pension 
 from king Edward VI., and was appointed go- 
 vernor of a company of merchants, associated 
 for the purpose of making discoveries of un- 
 known coimtries. Me had a strong persuasion, 
 that a passage might be found to China by tlie 
 northeast. By his means a trade was com- 
 menced with Russia, which gave rise to the Rus- 
 sian Company. The last account which is found 
 of him, is that in the year 1556, when the com- 
 pany were sending out a vessel for discovery, he 
 made a visit on board. "The good old gentle- 
 man, Master Cabota," says the journal of the 
 voyage in Hakluyt, " gave to the poor most libe- 
 ral alms, wishing them to pray for the good for- 
 tune and prosperous success of our pinnace. 
 And then at the sign of St. Christopher, he and 
 his friends banquetted, and for very joy, that he 
 had to see the towardness of our intended dis- 
 covery, he entered into the dance himself among 
 the rest of the young and lusty company; which 
 being ended, he and his friends departed, most 
 c2 
 
LIFE OF CARTIKR. 
 
 gently commending us to the governance of Al- 
 mighty God." 
 
 He died it is believed in 1557, aged 80 years. 
 He was one of the most extraordinary men of 
 the age in which he lived. There is preserved 
 in Hakluyt, a complete set of instructions drawn 
 and signed by Cabot, for the direction of the 
 voyage to Cathay in China, which affords the 
 clearest proof of his sagacity. He published, 
 "^ Navigatione nelle parte Settentrionale," Ve- 
 nice, 1583, folio. He published also a large 
 map, which was engraved by Clement Adams, 
 and hung up in the privy gallery at Whitehall; 
 and on this map was inscribed a Latin account 
 of the discovery of Newfoundland. 
 
 CARTIER. 
 
 James Cartier, a French navigator, who 
 made important discoveries in Canada, was a 
 native of St. Malo. After the voyage of the Ca- 
 bots, the French learned the value of their disco- 
 veries, and in a few years began the cod fishery 
 upon the banks of Newfoundland. In 1 524, John 
 Verazzani, a Florentine, in the service of France, 
 explored the coast of the new continent from Flo- 
 rida to Newfoundland. From a subsequent voy- 
 age, in 1525, he never returned, and it is sup- 
 posed that he fell a victim to savage barbarity. 
 His fate discouraged any other attempts of dis- 
 covery till the importance of having a colony in 
 
LIFJE OF CARTlElt. 31 
 
 the neighbourhood of the fishing hanks, induced 
 Francis I. to send out Cartier in the year 1534. 
 He sailed from St. Malo on the 20th of April in 
 this year, with two ships of sixty tons, and a hun- 
 dred and twenty-two men. On the 10th of May 
 lie came in sight of Bona Vista on the island of 
 Newfoundland; hut the ice obliged him to go to 
 the south, and he entered a harbour at tiie dis- 
 tance of five leagues to which he gave the name 
 of St. Catherine. As soon as the season w^ould 
 permit, he sailed northward, and entered the 
 straits of Belleisle. In this voyage he visited 
 the greater part of the coast which surrounds 
 the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and took possession 
 of the country in the name of the king. He dis- 
 covered a bay which he called Bay de Chaleurs, 
 on account of the sultry weather he experienced 
 in it. He sailed so far into the great river, after- 
 wards called the St. Lawrence, as to discover 
 land on the opposite side. On the 15th of Au- 
 gust he set sail on his return, and arrived at St. 
 Malo on the 5th of September. 
 
 When his discoveries were known in France, 
 it was determined to make a settlement in that 
 part of America which he had visited. Accord- 
 ingly, in the following year, he received a more 
 ample commission, and was equipped with three 
 vessels. When he was ready to depart, he went 
 to the cathedral church w ith his whole company, 
 and the bishop gave him his benediction. 
 
 He sailed on the 19th of May, 1535. He ex- 
 perienced a severe storm on his passage, but in 
 July he reached the destined port. He entered 
 
LIFE OF CAKTIER. 
 
 the gulf as in the preceding year, being accom- 
 panied by a number of young men of distinc- 
 tion. He sailed up the St. Lawrence and dis- 
 covered an island, which he named Bacchus, 
 but which is now called Orleans, in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Quebec. This island contained a 
 number of inhabitants, who subsisted chiefly by 
 fishing. He went on shore, and the natives 
 brought him Indian corn for his refreshment. 
 With his pinnace and two boats, he proceeded 
 up the river as far as Hochelaga, a settlement 
 upon an island, which he called Mont Royal, 
 but which is now called Montreal. In this In- 
 dian town were about fifty long huts, built with 
 stakes, and covered witli bark. The people 
 lived mostly by fishing and tillage. They had 
 corn, beans, squashes and pumpkins. In a few 
 days he set out on his return, and arrived at 
 Port de St. Croix, not far from Quebec, on the 
 4th of October. Here he passed the winter. 
 
 In December the scurvy began to make its 
 appearance among the natives, and in a short 
 time Cartier's company were seized by the dis- 
 order. By the middle of February, of one hun- 
 dred and ten persons fifty were sick at once, 
 and eight or ten had died. In this extremity 
 he appointed a day of humiliation. A crucifix 
 was placed on a tree, a procession of those who 
 were able to walk was formed, and at the close 
 of the devotional exercises, Cartier made a vow, 
 that "if it should please God to permit him to 
 return to France, he would go in pilgrimage to 
 our lady of Koquemado." The sick were all 
 
LUE. OF CAIiTlER. 
 
 healed by using a medicine which was employed 
 with success by the natives. This was a decoc- 
 tion of the leaves and bark of a tree. The li- 
 quor was drunk every other day, and an exter- 
 nal application was made to the legs. Charle- 
 voix says the tree was that which yielded tur- 
 pentine, and Dr. Belknap thinks it was the 
 spruce pine. In May he set sail on his return 
 to France, and arrived at St. Malo on the 6th 
 of July, 1536. 
 
 At the end of four years another expedition 
 was projected. Francois de la Roque, lord of 
 Roberval, w^as commissioned by the king as his 
 lieutenant governor in Canada; and Cartier was 
 appointed his pilot, with the command of five 
 ships. Cartier sailed in the year 1540 or 1541, 
 and a few leagues above St. Croix in the river 
 St. Lawrence, he built a fort, which he called 
 Charlebourg. In the spring of 154S, he deter- 
 mined to return to France, and accordingly in 
 June arrived at St. John^s in Newfoundland, on 
 his way home. Here he met Roberval, who did 
 not accompany him on his voyage, and who had 
 been detained till this time. Cartier was ordered 
 to return to Canada, but he chose to pursue his 
 voyage to France, and sailed out of the harbour 
 privately in the night. Roberval attempted to 
 establish a colony, but it was soon broken up, 
 and the French did not establish themselves per- 
 manently in Canada till after the expiration of 
 half a century. 
 
 Cartier published memoirs of Canada after 
 his second voyage. The names \^hic]i he gave 
 to islands, rivers, &c. are now entirely changed. 
 
34 LIFE 01? SMlT^r. 
 
 SMITH. 
 
 John Smith, the founder of the colony of 
 Virginia, was born in Lincolnshire, England, in 
 the year 1579. He early discovered a romantic 
 genius, and delighted in daring and extravagant 
 actions. 
 
 At the age of thirteen he sold his books and 
 satchel to raise money in order to convey him- 
 self privately to sea, but was prevented. Being 
 an apprentice to a merchant, he quitted his mas- 
 ter at the age of fifteen, and went into France 
 and the Low Countries. After his return he 
 studied military history and tactics, and having 
 recovered a part of the estate which his father 
 left him, he was enabled to set out again on his 
 travels at the age of seventeen in a better con- 
 dition than before. 
 
 Having embarked at Marseilles for Italy with 
 some pilgnn)s, a tempest obliged them to anchor 
 near a small island off Nice. As his compa- 
 nions attributed their unfavourable voyage to 
 the presence of Smith, they threw the heretic 
 into the sea; but by swimming he was enabled 
 to reach the shore. After going to Alexandria, 
 he entered into the service of the emperor of 
 Austria against the Turks. By his exploits he 
 soon obtained the command of two hundred and 
 fifty horsemen. At the siege of Regal, the Ot- 
 tomans sent a challenge, purporting that the 
 lord Turbisha, to divert the ladies, would fight 
 any captain of the Christian troops. Smith ac- 
 
LIFE OF SMITH. 55 
 
 cepted it; and meeting his antagonist on horse- 
 back, in view of the ladies on the battlements, 
 killed him, and bore away his head. A second 
 antagonist met the sajne fate. Smith then re- 
 quested, that if the ladies wished for more diver- 
 sion, another champion might appear. His head 
 was added to the number of the others, though 
 Smith narrowly escaped losing his own. 
 
 Smith was afterwards taken prisoner; but by 
 kilhng his tyrannical master he escaped into 
 Russia. When he returned to England, he 
 formed the resolution to seek adventures in 
 North America. Having persuaded a number 
 of gentlemen, in 1606, to obtain a patent of 
 South Virginia, he engaged in the expedition, 
 which was fitted out under the command of 
 Christopher Newport, and arrived with the first 
 emigrants who made a permanent settlement in 
 the Chesapeake, April 26, 1607. 
 
 A colony was begun at James Town, and the ^ 
 government was in the hands of a council, of 
 which Smith was a member. When Newport 
 returned, more than a hundred persons were 
 left in Virginia. They would probably have pe- 
 rished with hunger, but for the exertions of 
 Smith in procuring corn of the natives. When 
 he could not effect his object by purchase, he 
 would resort to stratagem or force. 
 
 While exploring the Chickahominy river, he 
 was taken prisoner, after having killed with his 
 own hand three of the enemy. He was carried 
 to the emperor Powhatan, who received him, 
 clothed in a robe of rackoon skins, and seated 
 
LIFE OF SMITH. 
 
 on a kind of throne, with two beautiful girls, his 
 daughters, near him. After a long consultation, 
 two large stones were brought in, and his head 
 was laid upon one of them. At this moment, 
 when the war clubs were lifted to despatch him, 
 Pocahontas, the king's favourite daughter, shield- 
 ed him from the blows, and by her entreaties 
 saved his life. He was sent to James Town, 
 where, by his resolution, address, and industry, 
 he prevented the abandonment of the plantation. 
 
 In the year 1608, he explored the whole coun- 
 try from Cape Henry to the river Susquehanna, 
 sailing about three thousand miles. On his re- 
 turn, he drew a map of Chesapeake bay and of 
 the rivers, from which all subsequent maps have 
 been chiefly copied. 
 
 In the year 1609, being much injured by an 
 explosion of gunpowder, he returned to England 
 for the benefit of medical assistance. In 1614, 
 he ranged the coast of what was then called 
 North Virginia, from Penobscot to Cape Cod, 
 in an open boat, with eight men. On his return, 
 he formed a map of the country, and desired 
 prince Charles, afterwards " the royal martyr," 
 to give it a name. By him it was for the first 
 time called New England. After otiier adven- 
 tures. Smith died in London, in the year 1631, 
 m the fifty-second year of his age. For all his 
 services and sufferings, he never received any 
 recompense. The character of Smith is thus 
 drawn by one of his friends and companions in 
 adventure. " In all his proceedings he made 
 justice his first guide, and experience his second; 
 
LIWB OF SMITH. 37 
 
 hating baseness, sloth, pride, and indignity, more 
 than any danger. He never would allow more 
 for himself than for his soldiers; and upon no 
 danger would send them where he would not 
 lead them himself He would never see us want 
 what he had, or could by any means get for us. 
 He would rather want, than borrow; or starve, 
 than not pay. He loved action more than words, 
 and hated covetousness and falsehood worse than 
 death." 
 
 He published the Sixth Voyage made to Vir- 
 ginia, 1606; the First Voyage to New England, 
 with the old and new names, 1614; a relation 
 of his Second Voyage to New England, 1615; 
 a Description of New England, 1617; New 
 England's Trials, declaring the Success of 2Q 
 Ships, employed thither within these six Years, 
 &c. 1620; the General History of Virginia, New 
 England, and the Summer Isles, with the Names 
 of the Adventurers, &c. from 1584 to 1626 — 
 also the Maps and Descriptions of all those 
 Countries, in six books, folio, 1627. His friend, 
 Mr. Purchas, had publislied in his Pilgrims most 
 of the narrative part before. The True Tra- 
 vels, Adventures and Observations of Captain 
 John Smith, in Europe, Asia, Africa and Ame- 
 rica, from 1593 to 1629, folio, 1630. This is 
 preserved entire in ChurchilFs Collections. Ad- 
 vertisements for the inexperienced Planters of 
 New England, 4to. 1630. 
 
 B 
 
38 IIFE OF KOBINSON. 
 
 ROBINSON. 
 
 John Robinson, minister of the English 
 church at Leyden, a part of which first settled 
 New England in 1620, was born in Great Bri- 
 tain in the year 1575, and educated at Cam- 
 bridge. After holding for some time a benefice 
 near Yarmouth, in Norfolk, when a society of 
 dissenters was formed in the north of England 
 about the year 1602, he was chosen their pas- 
 tor with the reverend Mr. Clifton. Persecution 
 drove his congregation into Holland in 1608, 
 and he soon followed them. At Amsterdam, 
 where they found emigrants of the same reli- 
 gious sentiments, they remained about a year; 
 but as the minister, Mr. John Smith, was un- 
 steady in his opinions, Mr. Robinson proposed a 
 removal to Leyden. Here they continued eleven 
 years, and their numbers so increased, that they 
 had in the church three hundred communicants. 
 They were distinguished for perfect harmony 
 among themselves and for friendly intercourse 
 with the Dutch. 
 
 Mr. Robinson, when he first went into Hol- 
 land, w as a most rigid separatist from the church 
 of England; but by conversation with Dr. Ames 
 and Mr. Robert Parker, he was convinced of 
 his error, and became more moderate, though 
 he condemned the use of the liturgy and the in- 
 discriminate admission to the sacraments. 
 
 In 1617, when another removal was contem- 
 plated, Mr. Robinson entered zealously into the 
 
LIFE OF ROBINSOX. 3Sf 
 
 plan of making a settlement in America. His 
 church was liable to be corrupted by the loose 
 habits of the Dutch, and he wished it to be 
 planted in a country where it might subsist in 
 purity. The first settlers of Plymouth in 1620, 
 who took with them Mr. Brewster, the ruling 
 elder, were the members of his church, and it 
 was his intention to follow them with the ma- 
 jority, that remained; but various disappoint- 
 ments prevented. He died March 1st, 1625, in 
 the fiftieth year of his age, and in the height of 
 his usefulness. A part of his church, and his 
 widow and children, afterwards came to New 
 England. He was a man of good genius, quick 
 penetration, ready wit, great modesty, integrity, 
 and candour. His classical learning, and acute- 
 ness in disputation were acknowledged by his 
 opponents. He was also discerning and prudent 
 in civil affairs. Such was his liberality, that he 
 esteemed all men that seemed to be truly pious, 
 of whatever denomination. In his principles of 
 church government he was himself an indepen- 
 dent or congregationalist. 
 
 In his farewell address to the first emigrants 
 to New England, he reminded them, that nei- 
 ther Lutlier nor Calvin could have penetrated 
 Into the whole counsel of God; and being con- 
 fident that the Lord had more truth to break 
 forth from his holy word, exhorted them to be 
 ready to receive it, without attachment to party. 
 [But he enjoined it upon them to take heed what 
 mey received as truth; to examine, to consider, 
 jand compare it with other parts of scripture. 
 
40 riFB OF G. GAL\"ERT. 
 
 He published a Defence of the Brownists; Jus- 
 tification of the Separation from the Church of 
 England; People's Plea for the Exercise of Pro- 
 phesying, 1618; Essays, Moral and Divine, 1628. 
 
 G. CALYERT, 
 
 George Calvert, baron of Baltimore, and 
 founder of the province of Maryland, was de- 
 scended from a noble family in Flanders, and 
 was born in Yorkshire, England, in the year 
 1582. After taking his bachelor's degree at 
 Trinity college, Oxford, in 1597, he travelled 
 over the continent of Europe. At his return to 
 England, in the beginning of the reign of James 
 I., he was taken into the office of sir Robert 
 Cecil, secretary of state, by whose favour he 
 was made clerk of the privy council, and re- 
 ceived the honour of knighthood. 
 
 In the year 1619, he was appointed one of 
 the principal secretaries of state in the room of 
 sir Thomas Lake. His great knowledge of pub- 
 lic business, and his diligence and fidelity, con- 
 ciliated the regard of the king, who gave him a 
 pension of a thousand pounds out of the customs. 
 
 In the year 1624 he became a Roman Ca- 
 tholic, and having disclosed his new principles to 
 the king, resigned his office. He was continued, 
 however, a member of the privy council, and was 
 created baron of Baltimore in the kingdom of 
 Ireland, in the year 1625, at which time he re- 
 presented the university of Oxford in parliament. 
 
LIFE OF G. CALVERT. 41 
 
 While he was secretary of state he was con- 
 stituted by patent proprietor of the southeastern 
 peninsula of Newfoundland, which he named 
 the province of Avalon. He spent twenty-live 
 thousand pounds in advancing his plantation, 
 and visited it twice in person; but it was so an- 
 noyed by the French, that though he once re- 
 pulsed and pursued their ships and took sixty 
 prisoners, he was obliged to abandon it. 
 
 Being still inclined to form a settlement in 
 America, whither he might retire with his family 
 and friends of the same religious principles, he 
 made a visit to Virginia, the fertility and advan- 
 tages of which province had been highly cele- 
 brated, and in which he had been interested as 
 one of the adventurers. But meeting with an 
 unwelcome reception on account of his religion, 
 and observing that the Virginians had not ex- 
 tended their plantations beyond the Potomac, 
 he fixed his attention upon the territory north- 
 ward of this river, and as soon as he returned to 
 England, obtained a grant of it from Charles I. 
 But owing to the tedious forms of public busi- 
 ness, before a patent was completed, he died at 
 London, April 15th, 1632, in the fifty-first year 
 of his age. After his death the patent was again 
 drawn in the name of his eldest son Cecil, who 
 succeeded to his honours, and it passed the seals 
 June 20th, 1632. The country was called Ma- 
 ryland, in honour of Henrietta Maria, the queen 
 consort of Charles I. From the great precision 
 of this charter, the powers which it confers upon 
 the proprietor, and the privileges and exemp- 
 d2 
 
42 LIFE OF t. CALVERT. 
 
 tions which it grants to the people, it is evident 
 that it was written by sir George himself. The 
 liberal code of religious toleration which it es- 
 tablished, is very honourable to him, and was 
 respected by his son, who carried his design 
 into execution. 
 
 Sir George was conspicuous for his good 
 sense and moderation. All parties were pleased 
 with him. Not being obstinate in his opinions, 
 he took as much pleasure in hearing the senti- 
 ments of others as in delivering his own. In 
 his views of establishing foreign plantations, he 
 thought that the original inhabitants, instead of 
 being exterminated, should be civilized and con- 
 verted; that the governors should not be inte- 
 rested merchants, but gentlemen not concerned 
 in trade; and that every one should be left to 
 provide for himself by his own industry, without 
 dependence on a common interest. 
 
 He published Carmen funebre in D. Hen. 
 TJntonum, 1596; Parliamentary Speeches; Va- 
 rious Letters of State; the Practice of Princes 
 and the Lamentation of the Kirk, 1642. He 
 also wrote something respecting Maryland, but 
 it was never printed. 
 
 L. CALVEKT. 
 
 Leonard Calvert, the first governor of Ma- 
 ryland, was the brother of Cecilius Calvert, the 
 proprietor, who sent him to America as the head 
 of the colony in 1633. After a circuitous voy- 
 
LIFE OF L. CALVEHT. 4S 
 
 age he arrived, accompanied by his brother, 
 George Calvert, and about two hundred per- 
 sons of good families and of the Roman Catho- 
 lic persuasion, at Point Comfort, in Virginia, on 
 the 24th of February, 1634. On the third of 
 March, he proceeded in the bay of Chesapeake 
 to the northward, and entered the Potomac, up 
 which he sailed twelve leagues, and came to an 
 anchor under an island, which he named St. 
 Clements. Here he fired his cannon, erected a 
 cross, and took possession " in the name of the 
 Saviour of the world and of the king of Eng- 
 land." Thence he went fifteen leagues higher 
 to the Indian town of Patomak on the Virgiiiia 
 side of the river, now called New Marlborough, 
 where he was received in a friendly manner by 
 the guardian regent, the prince of the country 
 being a minor. Thence he sailed twelve leagues 
 higher to the town of Piscataway, on the Mary- 
 land side, where he found Henry Fleet, an Eng- 
 lishman, who had resided several years among 
 the natives, and was held by them in great es- 
 teem. This man was very serviceable as an in- 
 terpreter. An interview having been procured 
 with the Werowance, or prince, Calvert arked 
 him, whether he was willing that a settlement 
 should be made in his country. He repHed, 
 " I will not bid you go, neither will I bid you 
 stay; but you may use your own discretion." 
 Having convinced the natives that his designs 
 were honourable and pacific, the governor now 
 sought a more suitable station for commencing 
 a colony. He visited a creek on the northern 
 
44 XIFE OF L. CALVERT. 
 
 side of the Potomac, about four leagues from its 
 mouth, where was an Indian village. Here^he 
 acquainted the prince of the place with his in- 
 tentions, and by presents to him and his princi- 
 pal men conciliated his friendship so much, as 
 to obtain permission to reside in one part of the 
 town until the next harvest, when, it was stipu- 
 lated, the natives should entirely quit the place. 
 Both parties entered into a contract to live to- 
 gether in a friendly manner. After Calvert had 
 given a satisfactory consideration, the "^natives 
 readily yielded a number of their houses, and 
 retired to the others. As the season for plant- 
 ing corn had now arrived, both parties went to 
 work. Thus, on the 27th of March, 1634, the 
 governor took peaceable possession of the coun- 
 try of Maryland, and gave to the town the name 
 of St Mary, and to the creek on which it was 
 situated the name of St. George. The desire of 
 rendering justice to the natives, by giving them 
 a reasonable compensation for their lands, is a 
 trait in the character of the first planters, which 
 will always do honour to their memory. 
 
 The colony had brought with them meal from 
 England; but they found Indian corn in great 
 plenty both at Barbadoes and Virginia, and by 
 the next spring they were able to export a thou- 
 sand bushels to New England and Newfound- 
 land, for which they received in return dried 
 fish and other provisions. The natives also killed 
 many deer and turkies, which they sold to the Eng- 
 lish for knives, beads, and other small articles of 
 traffic. Cattle, swine, and poultry, were procured 
 
I.1FE OF JPENN. 45 
 
 from Virginia. The province was established 
 on the broad foundation of security to property, 
 and of freedom in rehgion. Fifty acres of land 
 were granted in absolute fee to every emigrant, 
 and Christianity was established, without allow- 
 ing pre-eminence to any particular sect. This 
 liberal policy rendered a Roman Catholic colony 
 an asylum for those who were driven from New 
 England by the persecutions which were there 
 experienced from Protestants. 
 
 The governor built a house at St. Mary's for 
 himself and his successors, and superintended 
 the affairs of the country till the civil war in 
 England, when the name of a papist became so 
 obnoxious, that the parliament assumed the go- 
 vernment of the province, and appointed a new 
 governor. Of Leonard Calvert no further ac- 
 count has been procured. 
 
 Cecilius Calvert, the proprietor, recovered his 
 right to the province upon the restoration of king 
 Charles II., in the year 1660, and within a year 
 or two appointed his son Charles the governor. 
 He died in the year 1676, covered with age and 
 reputation, and was succeeded by his son. 
 
 PENN. 
 
 William Penn, an illustrious person among 
 the Q,uakers, and founder of the colony of Penn- 
 sylvania, was the son of sir William Penn, an 
 admiral of England in the protectorate of Crom- 
 well, and in the rei2;n of Charles the Second. 
 
46 XIFE OF iPENN. 
 
 He was born in London in the vicinity of the 
 Tower, on the 14th of October, 1644. At an 
 early age he was sent to Chigwell school, in Es- 
 sex, where after remaining some time, he was 
 placed at a private academy on Tower Hill. At 
 the age of fifteen years, being well versed in the 
 elements of learning, he entered as a student 
 and gentleman commoner of Christ Church col- 
 lege, in Oxford, where he continued two years, 
 and was intimate with Robert Spencer, (after- 
 wards earl of Sunderland,) and the famous John 
 Locke. Being impressed by the preaching of 
 Thomas Loe, an itinerant Ctuaker, he, with se- 
 veral other students, withdrew from the na- 
 tional way of worship, to hold private meetings, 
 at which they preached and prayed among them- 
 selves. This conduct gave offence to the heads 
 of the college; the parties were fined for non- 
 conformity, but this only confirmed them in their 
 principles, and, at length, Penn and several 
 others were expelled the college. 
 
 Returning home, he continued to affect the 
 company of religious persons; from which his 
 father, seeing the obstacles it would throw in 
 his way to preferment, endeavoured both by 
 words and blows to deter him; and finding all 
 methods ineffectual, became at length so in- 
 censed, that he turned him out of doors; but by 
 the influence of his affectionate mother, he was 
 so far restored to favour, as to be sent, in com- 
 pany with some persons of rank, on a tour to 
 France. This took place in 1662. Here, though 
 he spent some time in study under the cele- 
 
LIFE OF PENN. 47 
 
 brated Protestant preacher, Moses Amyrault, 
 the very different conversation of other asso- 
 ciates at length diverted his thoughts from reh- 
 gion. He had, however, acquired the language, 
 together with the polished manners of the 
 French, when, in 1664, he was recalled by his 
 father from Turin, to which place he had pro- 
 ceeded from Sauniur, the residence of Amy- 
 rault. The admiral joyfully received his son, 
 concluding the main point (of his fitness for pro- 
 motion) was now gained. He was admitted of 
 Lincoln's Inn, to study the law, where he con- 
 tinued till the breaking out of the pestilence; 
 soon after which, being now twenty-two years 
 of age, his father put under his management a 
 considerable estate in Ireland, and he went to 
 reside in that kingdom. 
 
 In solitude, the religious struggle in Penn's 
 breast revived. On the one hand, natural viva- 
 city, personal accomplishments, and the respect 
 and favour of his friends, attracted his regard 
 to the present world: on the other, devotion, 
 and an indelible sense of duty, fixed his con- 
 templations on the next. 
 
 Being at Cork, he was informed of a meeting 
 for worship, then about to be convened by the 
 desire of his former friend, Thomas Loe. Penn 
 attended it, and Loe delivered a discourse, be- 
 ginning with the words, " There is a faith, that 
 overcomes the world; and there is a faith, that is 
 overcome by the world;" on which he is said to 
 have expatiated with much clearness and ener- 
 gy. His doctrine agreeing with the previous ex- 
 
48 LIFE OF PENW. 
 
 perience and present disposition of Penn, he 
 now inclined to enter into communion with the 
 Quakers, and from this time constantly attended 
 their meetings, though at that time they were 
 subject to severe persecution. This might have 
 operated as a discouragement to a young gentle- 
 man of such quality and expectations, especially 
 as he exposed himself thereby to the renewed 
 displeasure of a parent who loved him, had not 
 the integrity of his mind induced him to sacri- 
 fice all worldly considerations to the dictates of 
 his conscience. 
 
 At a religious meeting, held at Cork, Novem- 
 ber, 1667, he with eighteen others was appre- 
 hended by order of the mayor, who would have 
 liberated Penn, upon his giving bond for his 
 good behaviour; but the latter, deeming the 
 meeting no misdemeanour, refused bond, and 
 was sent to prison with the rest. He wrote a 
 few lines to the earl of Orrery, containing ex- 
 ceptions to the mayor's proceedings, an argu- 
 ment against persecution, and a request " for 
 the speedy releasement of all" who had been 
 committed on the occasion. The earl contented 
 himself with ordering Penn's discharge. 
 
 His father, being informed of these circum- 
 stances, remanded him home, and was readily 
 obeyed. Penn had now again to pass through 
 the ordeal of parental displeasure, and in this a 
 principal object seems to have been, his conti- 
 nuance in the exterior of his education, or as* I 
 his biographer has it, in the customs and fashions , 
 of the age. But so fixed was he in the resolu- 
 
J.JFli Oif PKXN. * 49 
 
 ;ion to follow what he esteemed a manifestation 
 3f the will of God in his conscience to the con- 
 :rary, that, although he behaved on these occa- 
 dons with Christian meekness and iiiial affec- 
 ion, neither threats nor entreaties could move 
 lis constancy. The honour of the hat (in these 
 imes a matter of no hght esteem) was esjyecially 
 :ontended for by the punctilious admiral; who, 
 it last, would have tolerated his son in other in- 
 stances of nonconformity, on condition that he 
 ihould be uncovered before the king, the duke 
 )f York, aJid himself.*)^ Penn took time to con- 
 sider of tiiis proposal in secret; he even made it 
 I subject of fasting and supplication to God to 
 )e directed aright, and he deliberately refused 
 he terms; in consequence of which he was a 
 lecond time driven from the paternal mansion. 
 3is integrity was now put to a severe proof: it 
 ippears t/iat he found a shelter among his adopt- 
 sd friepds, the (Quakers; while his nrotber, who 
 vns always his friend, frequently supplied his 
 vants, without the father's knowledge. At 
 ength the admiral relented, so far as to wink at 
 lis return to the family; and when in conse- 
 [ucnce of being found at religious meetings (by 
 lie state then called seditious conventicles), he 
 ras at any time imprisoned, would privately use 
 lis influence to get him released. 
 
 The talents of Penn were soon devoted to the 
 upport of the docti-ine he had espoused. He 
 lecame a preacher among the Q^uakers, and 
 Riblished in 1668, on their behalf, a piece, en- 
 itled "Truth exalted," and in the prosecution 
 
 E 
 
50 • I.IFE or FKSs. 
 
 of a controversy whicli this piece bad excited, he 
 shortly afterwards published another, wilh the 
 following title: "The Sandy Foundation Shaken 
 or those so generally believed and applaudet 
 Doctrines, of one God, subsisting in three dis- 
 tinct and separate Persons; the Impossibility oi 
 God's pardoning Sin without a plenary Satisfac- 
 tion; the Justification of imp^ire Persons by an 
 imputative Righteousness, refuted from the Au- 
 thority of Scripture Testimonies and right Rea- 
 son/' Upon the publication of tiiis work, the 
 vindictive spirit of intolqa-ance was stirred up. 
 " It was evil spoken of," says Sewel, the histo- 
 rian of the Quakers, " and Penn was connnitted 
 to the Tower, and, as some thought, not with- 
 out his father's being acquainted with it, perhaps 
 to prevent a worse treatment." Fiom what 
 quarter this was apprehended, we skall see pre- 
 sently; for Penn being thus secure^ in the 
 Tower, and denied the access of his friends, his 
 servant one day brought him word (as it seems 
 from the admiral) that the bishop of London 
 was resolved he should either publicly recant or 
 die a prisoner. His reply evinced a mind unter- 
 rified at the prospect of sufferings, which he 
 considered as inflicted for conscience sake: — 
 " My prison," says he, " shall be my grave. I 
 owe my conscience to no man. They are mis- 
 taken in me; I value not their threats. They 
 shall know that I can weary out their malice, 
 and baffle all their designs by the spirit of pa- 
 tience." 
 
 He began to occupy his solitude with religious 
 
T.IFE OF PENN^. 51 
 
 "impositions, the most considerable among whicli 
 vas a practical treatise on the Christian religion, 
 mtitled "No Cross no Crown." In this work, 
 lis cotemporary. Dr. Henry More, says, he has 
 reated the subject of a future life, and the im- 
 nortality of the soul, with a force and spirit 
 ?qual to most writers. It has passed througli 
 nany editions. 
 
 After near seven months durance, Penn wrote 
 the secretary of state, lord Arlington, request- 
 ng to be heard in his own defence before the 
 [ing, and complaining warmly of the manner in 
 vhich his sentiments had been misrepresented 
 ►y his enemies. In this letter several just and 
 loble sentiments occur. He tells his lordship, 
 ■ that he is at a loss to imagine how a diversity 
 / religious opinions can affect the safety of the 
 late, seeing that kingdoms and commonwealths 
 ave lived under the balance of divers parties. 
 le conceives that they only are imfit for politi- 
 al society, who maintain principles subversive 
 f industry, fidelity, justice and obedience; but 
 ) say that men must form their faith of things 
 roper to another ivorld, according to the pre- 
 options of other mortal men in this, and, if 
 ley do not, that they have no right to be at li- 
 ^rty, or to live in this, is both ridiculous and 
 angerous. He maintains that the understand- 
 ig can never be convinced by other arguments 
 )an what are adequate to its oivn nature. — 
 *orce may make hypocrites, but can make no 
 inverts,'^ &.c. &c. 
 
 Penn, during his imprisonment, likewise pub- 
 
1,1 FR OF ri'NX. 
 
 lished a sliort piece, entitled " Jnnocency with ^ 
 lier open Face, presented by way of iipology I 
 for the Book, entitled tiie Sandy Foiind.ruou 
 Shaken." lie here says, " that which I am cre- 
 dibly infoi'i^ied to be the greatest reason of my 
 imprisonment, and of that noise of blasphemy 
 which hath pierced so many ears of late, is my' 
 denying the divinity of Christ, and divesting him 
 of his eternal Godhead; which most busily has 
 been suggested, as well to those in authority as 
 maliciously insinuated among the people." In 
 confutation of which charges, he proceeds to 
 prove from scripture the Godhead of Christ 
 Both of these tracts were republished in the col- 
 lection of his works, in folio, 1771; and the- 
 reader, who desires a just view of his sentiments ; 
 on the several controverted points, will do welt 
 to compare them with each other, and with his 
 doctrinal works at large. Soon after this expla-^ 
 natory defence, Penn was liberated from the,! 
 Tower, and went to Ireland, where he seems to 
 have been occupied for twelve months in thej 
 care of his father's estate, and in various ser-i 
 vices to his friends, the (Quakers; after which 
 he returned to England. 
 
 In the year 1670, an act of parliament pro^ 
 hibited the meeting of dissenters under severe 
 penalties. The Q,uakers, being forcibly kepi 
 out of their meeting-house in Grace-churcli 
 street, London, assembled before it in the street, 
 where Penn addressed a numerous concoursCj 
 and was apprehended on the spot by a warranl 
 from Samuel Stirling, lord mayor, and commit- 
 
LIFE OF VESS. 53 
 
 ted to Newgate. At the next sessions at the 
 Old Bailey, he was indicted along with William 
 Mead, another eminent Q,uaker, for meeting in, 
 and conspiring to preach to an unlawful and tu- 
 multuous assembly. He made, says his biogra- 
 pher, a brave defence, discovering both the free 
 spirit of an Englishman, and the undaunted mag- 
 nanimity of a Christian, insomuch that, notwith- 
 standing the most partial frowns and menaces of 
 the bench, the jury acquitted them both. It may 
 be proper to add, that the Jury had first brought 
 in their verdict, " guilty of speaking in Grace- 
 church street;" but this being unsatisfactory to 
 the court, they were detained all night, and the 
 next day returned a verdict " not guilty." The 
 court was highly incensed against them, fined 
 them forty marks each, and ordered them to be 
 imprisoned till their fines should be paid. But 
 this dangerous assumption of power was after- 
 wards adjudged illegal by the court of common 
 pleas, on which occasion the chief justice 
 Vaughan distinguished himself by a very able 
 speech in vindication of the rights of juries. 
 The trial of Penn and Mead is inserted in the 
 collection of Penn's works; and has been pub- 
 lished separately. " A cheap edition of this 
 trial," says John Evans, (in his Sketch of the 
 Deuominations of the Christian World,) "ought 
 to be produced for general circulation. It pre- 
 sents a sad picture of the times, and is an elo- 
 quent comment on the wretched consequences 
 of religious bigotry." 
 
 e2 
 
54 1-11 E 01' I'iuSS. 
 
 Not long after this event admiral Peun died, 
 perfectly reconciled to his son, to whom he left 
 an estate of ^1500 per annum. Penn engaged 
 about this time in a public dispute, at Wycomb, 
 with Jeremy Ives, a celebrated Baptist, on the 
 universality of a divine light in the minds of 
 men; which doctrine Ives undertook to dis- 
 prove, but seems to have quitted the field to his 
 antagonist immediately after stating his argu- 
 ments. In the month called February, 1670-1, 
 Penn was again committed on the pretext of 
 preaching publicly, to Newgate, where he re- 
 
 * A short time before his death, looking over the busy 
 scenes in which he had been engaged, he became solemnly 
 impressed with the view, and filled with regret for his want 
 of sufficient attention to the mercies he had received. The 
 following excellent advice which, at that time, he gave to 
 his son William, strongly express the religious state of his 
 mind. "I am weary of the world. I would not live over 
 my days again, if I could command them with a wish: for 
 the snares of life are greater than the fears of death. This 
 troubles me, that I have offended a gracious God, who has 
 followed me to this day. O, have a care of sin ; that is the 
 sting both of life and death. Three things I commend to 
 you. First, let nothing in this world tempt you to wrong 
 your conscience: I charge you, do nothing against your 
 conscience : you will then keep peace at home, which wilt 
 be a feast to you in the day of trouble. Secondly, what- 
 ever you design to do, plan it justly, and time it seasona- 
 bly ; for these give security and despatch. Lastly, be not 
 troubled at disappointments; for if they may be recovered, 
 do it ; if they cannot, trouble is in vain. If you could not 
 have avoided them, be content : peace and profit oftgn at- 
 tend submission to Providence ; and afflictions make wise. 
 If you could have avoided them, let not your trouble ex- 
 ceed instruction for another time. These rules will carry 
 you with firmness and comfort through this incoastant 
 world." 
 
Llili 01' PENN. 
 
 mained six months. It is observable that he liad 
 recently published a piece in favour of liberty of 
 conscience, and another, entitled " A seasonable 
 Caveat against Popery:" the one probably offen- 
 sive to the intolerant clergy, the other to the 
 court. At his commitment he held a spirited 
 dialogue on persecution with sir John Robison, 
 lieutenant of the Tower; at the close of which, 
 the latter calling for an officer with a file of 
 armed men, " No, no," said Penn, " send thy 
 lacquey, / knoiv the ivay to JVewgate." 
 
 Being discharged at the end of nine months 
 without any trial, he went over to Holland and 
 Germany, where he continued travelling and 
 preaching, till the king published his " declara- 
 tion of indulgence to tender consciences ;" upon 
 which he returned to England, and in the year 
 1672, married Gulielma Maria, daughter of sir 
 William Springett, formerly of Darhng, in 
 Sussex. 
 
 He settled at Rickmansworth, Herts, conti- 
 nuing to render service, both by preaching and 
 writing, to the religious cause in which he was 
 now engaged for life. Nor did he neglect an 
 attention to the interests of his country, but pub- 
 lished in this year a pamphlet, entitled, " The 
 proposed Comprehension, soberly and not un- 
 seasonably considered;" and in 1675, a larger 
 work, the title of which is, " England's present 
 Interest considered, with Honour to the Prince 
 and Safety to the People; in Answer to this one 
 Question, What is most fit, easy, and safe at 
 this Juncture of Affairs, to be done, for quieting 
 
56 LIFK OF PENN. 
 
 of Differences, allaying the Heat of contrary In- 
 terests, and making them subservient to the In- 
 terest of the Government, and consistent with 
 the Pj-osperity of the Kingdom." The answer 
 to this, and the argument of the piece, are in 
 three things: " 1. An inviolable and impartial 
 maintenance of English rights. 2. Our supe- 
 riors governing themselves upon a balance (as 
 near as may be) towards the several religious in- 
 terests. 3. A sincere promotion of general and 
 practical religion." Becoming, about this time, 
 interested in the property of West Jersey, he 
 took an active part in the measures used to pro- 
 mote the settlement of that province. 
 
 In 1677, he renewed his travels in Holland, 
 in company with George Fox, Robert Barclay, 
 and others. While in those parts, he assisted at 
 a general meeting of the Fnends, held for the 
 purpose of settling their religious disciphne; and 
 those at Dantzic being under persecution, Penn 
 wrote, in their name, an address to the king of 
 Poland, with a confession of faith, and a request 
 that he would interpose for them. He then pro- 
 ceeded with Barclay to Herwerden, the court 
 of the princess Ehzabeth of the Rhine, elder 
 sister of Sophia, electr.ess of Hanover, on whom 
 the succession of the crown of England was after- 
 wards settled. Their object was a religious visit to 
 this princess, and the countess Homes, her com- 
 panion, both Protestants, and the former esteem- 
 ed one of the most learned of her sex in that age. 
 Some correspondence, begun upon the report 
 of their extraordinary piety, had opened a way 
 
LIFE or TENX. 57 
 
 for a personal interview. Penu and his compa- 
 nion were well received at Herwerden: a cor- 
 respondence by letter was afterwards kept up 
 between the former and the princess, and she 
 dying in 1660, lie inserted in the second edition 
 of his " No Cross no Crown,'' a testimony to 
 her highly exemplary character. In returning 
 through Germany and Holland, he preached in 
 many places, at meetings convened for the oc- 
 casion. He was heard, this year, before a com- 
 mittee of parliament, in support of a petition 
 from the Gtuakers, who were oppressed by pro- 
 secutions in the Exchequer, under statutes 
 enacted against the Papists, but converted by 
 some magistrates into engines of annoyance to 
 Protestant dissenters. In 1679, and during two 
 years following, he pubhshed several things; as, 
 " An Address to Protestants;" " England's great 
 Interest in the Choice of this new Parliament;" 
 a piece dedicated to the electors; and " One 
 Project for the Good of England;" which he 
 presented to the parliament itself. He likewise 
 exerted himself to procure the return of Alger- 
 non Sidney as a member of the house, first at 
 Guildford, and afterwards at Brumber. About 
 this time he was elected a fellow of the Royal 
 Society. 
 
 We now come to the most considerable of 
 Penn's actions, the settlement of a colony in 
 North America, on liberal and pacific princi- 
 ples. A tract of country on the west side of the 
 Delaware, (formerly belonging to the Dutch, and 
 called the New Netherlands,) was granted on 
 
58 LIFE OF TE^.V. 
 
 petition by Charles the Second, to Wilhani Penn 
 and his heirs, in consideration of admiral Penn's 
 services, and of debts due to him from the crown 
 at his decease. To this the duke of York add- 
 ed, by cession, a further contiguous portion of 
 territory, seated lower on the Delaware. The 
 king's patent bore date the 4th of March, 1680-1 ; 
 and in this instrument he gave to the province, 
 in honour of the patentee, its new name of Penn- 
 sylvania. Penn, being thus constituted absolute 
 proprietor and governor, published " A brief 
 Account of the Province of Pennsylvania," in 
 which he proposed terms of settlement to such 
 as might incline to remove thither, offering land 
 at forty shillings purchase, and one shilhng per 
 annum quit rent, for one hundred acres. A great 
 number of buyers came forward, several of whom 
 formed a company, calling themselves "The 
 Free Society of Traders in Pennsylvania." Three 
 ships presently departed, with adventurers from 
 England and Wales, chiefly industrious and re- 
 putable persons of Penn^s own communion. Two 
 of these arrived on the coast in time of winter; 
 the third was detained till spring in the West 
 India islands. Thus was the settlement begun, 
 the proprietor being occupied meantime in pro- 
 viding a government for the colony, and i-i con- 
 certing measures for its security. The native 
 Americans, or Indians, having experienced, in 
 some provinces on that continent, much injus- 
 tice, had made the most terrible reprisals: sound 
 policy, therefore, conspiring with his own tem- 
 per and principles, made it Penn's care to have 
 
JLIFE or PENN. 59 
 
 lliem treated with candour, justice, and huma- 
 nity; and his relation, W. Markham, saiHng with 
 the first settlers, he joined him with others in a 
 commission to open a friendly intercourse with 
 the natives, to whom he sent out considerable 
 presents, and a letter couched in plain concilia- 
 tory terms. In the beginning of 1682, he pub- 
 lished " The Frame of the Government of the 
 Province of Pennsylvania in America, together 
 with certain Laws, agreed upon in England by 
 the Governor and divers Freemen of the afore- 
 said Province, to be further explained and con- 
 firmed there by the first provincial Council that 
 shall be held, if they seem meet." This work 
 is prefaced with an ingenious discourse on the 
 nature, origin, use and abuse of government. 
 '■ That," he observes, " which makes a good go- 
 vernment, must keep it such: to wit, men of 
 wisdom and virtue; qualities that, because they 
 descend not with worldly inheritances, must be 
 carefully propagated by a virtuous education of 
 youth:" and in order to give effect where he had 
 power, to that great principle of good govern- 
 ment, liberty of conscience, in behalf of which, 
 he and bis friends so deeply suffered, he recog- 
 nised it m the first article of his " Constitu- 
 tions," and proceeded to establish it by the fol- 
 lowing law: " All persons living in the province 
 who shall confess and acknowledge the One Al- 
 mighty and Eternal God, to be Creator, Up- 
 holder, and Ruler of the world, and that hold 
 themselves obliged in conscience to live peace- 
 ably and justly in civil society, shall in no ways 
 
6l> LIFE OF PEXX. 
 
 be molested or prejudiced for their religious per- 
 suasion, or practice in matters of faitli and ivor- 
 ship; nor shall they be compelled, at any time, 
 to frequent or maintain any religious worship, 
 place, or ministry whatever." To the above 
 article was added another equally conducive to 
 the welfare of society: " That according to the 
 good example of the primitive Christians, and 
 the ease of the creation, every first day of the 
 week, called the Lord's Day, people shall ab- 
 stain from their daily labour, that they may the 
 better dispose themselves to worship God ac- 
 cording to their understandings." 
 
 The laws were an original compact between 
 the governor and the freemen of the colony. 
 They appear to be founded in wisdom and 
 equity, and some of them have been copied into 
 the declaration of rights prefixed to several of 
 the present republican constitutions in America. 
 
 Having completed his preparations, the go- 
 vernor, early in the autumn of 1682, sailed for 
 Pennsylvania; his family (of whom he took leave 
 in a pathetic and instructive letter) remaicing 
 behind. He was accompanied by about an hun- 
 dred persons, mostly Quakers, from his own 
 neighbourhood: but of these the small pox, 
 which had been inadvertently carried on board, 
 swept off no less than thirty. In other respects 
 the voyage was prosperous; and passing up the 
 Delaware, he was met by the colonists, consist- 
 ing of English, Dutch, and Swedes, with demon- 
 strations of satisfaction. Having landed at New- 
 castle, October 24th, he convened and addressed 
 
LIFE OF PES>. 61 
 
 the inhabitants, received legal possession of the 
 country, and renewed the magistrates' commis- 
 sions. After paying a visit to New York, he met 
 the first provincial assembly at Chester on the 
 Delaware, then called Upland. Here, in a ses- 
 sion of three days, the territory ceded by the 
 duke of York was annexed to the province; an 
 act of settlement was confirmed; resident fo- 
 reigners naturalized; and the laws, which had 
 been formed in England, after some revision, 
 passed in form. Penn now visited lord Balti- 
 more in his government of Maryland; whence 
 lie returned to Coquannock (the future site of 
 Philadelphia), and began to purchase lands of 
 the natives. He now likewise first entered per- 
 sonally with them into that firm alUance of peace 
 and good offices, and formed (to use their own 
 symbol) that chain of friendship, which Avas to 
 last as long as sun and moon endure. 
 
 The benevolence of Penn's disposition led 
 him to exercise great tenderness towards the 
 natives, which was much increased by an opi- 
 nion which he had formed, and which he openly 
 avowed, that they were descendants of the ten 
 dispersed tribes of Israel. He travelled into the 
 country, visited them in their dwellings, was pre- 
 sent at their feasts, conversed with them in a 
 free and familiar manner, and gained their affec- 
 tions by his obliging carriage, and his frequent 
 acts of generosity. On public occasions, he re- 
 ceived them with ceremony, and transacted busi- 
 ness with solemnity and order. Certain it is, 
 that his strict observance^ of justice in paying 
 
 F 
 
62 LIFE OF PExVX. 
 
 them for the soil (which was their inheritance;, 
 and the interest he manifested, during many suc- 
 cessive treaties, in their real welfare, not only 
 operated to secure this colony for a long series 
 of years from hostile attacks, but implanted in 
 the generous, tliough uncultivated, mind of the 
 American, a regard for Oiias (Penn), and his chil- 
 dren (the Quakers), which bids fair to be trans- 
 mitted to the latest remains of the race. One part 
 of his agreement w ith the natives was, that they 
 should sell no lands to any person but to himself 
 or his agents; another was that his agents should 
 not occupy or grant any lands, but those which 
 were fairly purchased of the natives. These 
 stipulations were confirmed by subsequent acts 
 of assembly, and every contract made between 
 private persons and the natives without leave of 
 the proprietor, was declared void. The charter 
 which he had obtained of the crown compre- 
 hended a far greater extent of territory than it 
 was proper for him at first to purchase of the 
 natives. 
 
 Philadelphia, the capital of the province, was 
 next to be laid out, of which at the time of 
 Penn's arrival, not a house was completed; the 
 colonists having, in general, no better lodgings 
 than caves, hollowed out of the high banks of 
 the river: the very plot fixed on for the city was 
 claimed by some Swedes, to whom the governor 
 allowed a greater quantity of land in exchange. 
 This city, extending two miles in length and one 
 in breadth, and abutting at each end on a navi- 
 gable river, was now planned, with admirable 
 
3.IFE OF PENN. 63 
 
 boldness, convenience and regularity, and laid 
 out under the inspection of Thomas Holmes, 
 surveyor general to the province. Ere twelve 
 months had elapsed, the rudiments of the future 
 metropolis showed themselves in about fourscore 
 dwellings, the seats of freedom, peace, and in- 
 dustry. The governor despatched his plan to 
 the committee of the Free Society of Traders, 
 accompanied with a description (the best extant 
 of these times) of the country, its natural his- 
 tory, and aborigines. This description is insert- 
 ed in the collection of his works before men- 
 tioned. The first jury was impannelled here 
 early in 1683; and one Pickering was tried, 
 with others his accessaries, before the governor 
 and council, and convicted of counterfeiting the 
 Spanish silver money current in the province. 
 His sentence discovers the same spirit of mild- 
 ness and equity, which, at this day, constitutes 
 the praise and the efficacy of the criminal code 
 of Pennsylvania. He was to pay a fine of forty 
 pounds towards the building of a court house, 
 standing committed till payment; find securities 
 for his good behaviour, and make restitution, in 
 good silver, to the holders of his base coin, 
 ivhich, being first melted doivn, was to be re- 
 stored to him. 
 
 Various legislative, economical, and religious 
 measures, together with a tedious dispute with 
 lord Baltimore, on the subject of the boundary 
 line between this pro\ince and Maryland, con- 
 tinued to occupy Penn till about midsummer, 
 1684; when he found it needful, on various con- 
 
64 J.IFE OF PJiNJS. 
 
 siderations, to return to England. His interest 
 at court had declined during his absence: but it 
 was now restored, upon the death of Charles II, 
 by the accession of his more innnediate patron 
 James II. He made use of his influence for the 
 relief of his friends, the Quakers, who still lay 
 under the scourge of penal statutes; and for the 
 gratuitous service of many others. In particu- 
 lar, he exerted himself in favour of the measure 
 at that time so much, though so insincerely, held 
 out by the court, of universal liberty of con- 
 science. In 1686 (as we learn from bishop Bur- 
 net), being in Holland, in tlie coiu'se of a tour 
 to Germany, &c. he had several interviews on 
 this subject with the prince of Orange, on be- 
 half (though not as an accredited minister) of 
 king James: but his proposal going so far as to 
 abolish the tests, it was rejected, probably by 
 Burnet's advice, who was then with the prince, 
 and in his confidence. However freely we may 
 excuse Penn, on the fair plea of gratitude, for 
 his attachment to James, it is to be lamented that 
 he gave implicit credit to pretended schemes of 
 religious liberty, the duplicity of which was so 
 fully penetrated by others. His intimate re- 
 ception at court, and the appearance of being 
 some way trusted or employed by the king, 
 now subjected him to genei'al imputation of 
 being a concealed Papist. Even his old ac- 
 quaintance, Dr. Tillotson, (afterwards archbi- 
 shop of Canterbury,) suspected him; but some 
 expressions of Tillotson's on the subject coming 
 to Penn's ears, a correspondence ensued be- 
 
LIFE OF PENIT. 65 
 
 tvveen them, at the close of which Tillotson ac- 
 knowledged himself fully satisfied that there ex- 
 isted no just grounds for the surmise. About 
 this time (besides a further account of his pro- 
 vince) Penn published several pieces on his fa- 
 vourite topic, liberty of conscience; one of which 
 was entitled " Good Advice to the Church of 
 England, Roman Catholic, and Protestant Dis- 
 senter; in which it is endeavoured to be made 
 appear, that it is their Duty, Principle and Inte- 
 rest, to abolish the Penal Laws and Tests." 
 
 The last occasion in which we have to view 
 Penn in connexion with the court of James, is 
 in an occasional attendance on the movements 
 of the latter, this year, through several of the 
 midland counties. Penn seems to have made 
 use of several intervals in this jjrogress, to pay 
 religious visits to his friends, and to preach to 
 the people. On some of the latter occasions, 
 the king, too, was present to hear him. At Ox- 
 ford he remonstrated with James on his arbi- 
 trary treatment of the fellows of Magdalen Col- 
 lege, and attempted a mediation between them 
 md the king, which he further prosecuted af- 
 terwards at Windsor; but it proved abortive. 
 
 The revolution brought Penn again into diffi- 
 culties, as a suspected Papist, or Jesuit, and a 
 secret agent for the old government. On the 
 lOth of December, 1C88, walking in Whitehall, 
 le was sent for by the lords of the council, then 
 fitting, who, though nothing was laid to his 
 charge, obliged him to give securities for his ap- 
 pearance on the first day of the next term: he 
 t2 
 
G6 LIFE OF rJEXX. 
 
 was continued on these to the Easter term ("ol- 
 lovving, on the last day of which he was cleared 
 in open court. In 1690, he was again brought 
 before the council, on an accusation of holding 
 correspondence with the late king James; he ap- 
 pealed to king William, who, after a conference 
 of near two hours, was inclined to acquit him; 
 but, to please some of the council, he was held 
 upon bail for a while, and in Trinity term, of the 
 same year, again discharged. He was yet a third 
 time attacked, and his name inserted in a pro- 
 clamation, dated July 18th this year, wherein 
 (among divers of the nobility and others, to the 
 immber of eighteen,) he was charged with ad- 
 hering to the king's enemies, but proof failing 
 respecting him, he was again cleared by order 
 of the court of King's Bench. He now pro- 
 posed to go again to his province, and gave out 
 proposals for a new settlement there. It ap- 
 pears that though his stay in England might be 
 necessary to the security of his title as proprie- 
 tary, it was highly detrimental both to his inte- 
 rests in America, and, through deficiency hi- 
 therto of revenue from it, to his private estate. 
 His order for convoy had already passed the se- 
 cretary of state, when the voyage was prevented 
 by a new charge against him, backed by the 
 oath of one Fuller, a wretch who was afterwards 
 declared by parliament an impostor. The charge, 
 however, being that of partaking in a plot to re- 
 store the late king, a warrant was granted for 
 his apprehension, which he narrowly escaped at 
 his return from George Fox's burial, the six- 
 
LI IK OF PKJTA". 67 
 
 leciith of the month called January, 1690. See- 
 ing now no probability of fair treatment, he re- 
 tired for two or three years; during which time, 
 besides a preface to the collected works of Bar- 
 clay, he wrote the following pieces: — 1. "Just 
 Measures," an epistle to the Quakers in vindica- 
 tion of religious discipline: 2. "A Key," or a 
 treatise explanatory of their principles and prac- 
 tice: 3. " Reflections and Maxims relating to 
 the Conduct of Human Life." The two latter 
 of these have gone through many editions. 
 
 At the close of the year 1693, being admitted 
 through the intercession of some of the nobility 
 to appear before the king and council,' he now 
 etfectually represented his innocence, and got 
 clear of this long political persecution. About 
 this time his wife, who was an amiable and ac- 
 complished woman, died, and he married after 
 two years, Hannah, daughter of Thomas Callow- 
 hill, of Bristol; and soon after lost by a con- 
 sumption, his eldest son, a promising youth, just 
 of age. The interval from his appearing again 
 in public, to the year 1699, appears to have 
 been chiefly devoted to religious labours and con- 
 troversies: he also presented to parliament some 
 arguments for exempting Quakers from oaths; 
 and some remarks on a bill against blasphemy^ 
 in which he very rationally proposed that the 
 term should be so defined as to preclude mali- 
 cious interpretations. This bill was dropped. 
 
 On the prevalence of Penn's enemies at court, 
 he had been deprived of his government of Penn- 
 sylvania, which was annexed, in October, 169-2, 
 
t)S LIFE OF PENN. 
 
 to that of New York, under colonel Fletcher. 
 The ostensible reasons for this step were mal- 
 administration, and danger of the loss of the pro- 
 vince: the real one probably was a jealousy ex- 
 cited by the growing prosperity of the colony, 
 and by principles and practices in its jurispru- 
 dence too liberal for the age. Penn's rights 
 were restored to him by an instrument of Wil- 
 liam and Mary, dated in August, 1694; but it 
 was not till five years after this, that he embarked 
 a second time for the province, accompanied by 
 his family. The vessel, being three months at 
 sea, did not arrive at Philadelphia " until the 
 beginning of the tenth month, 1699, when a dan- 
 gerous and contagious distemper called the yel- 
 low fever, having raged in the province and car- 
 ried off gi'eat numbers of people, had ceased. ^^ 
 Penn seegis now to have intended to spend the 
 remainder of his life in America, and he applied 
 himself dihgently to the offices of government; 
 in which the inevitable difficulties arising from 
 a mixed population, of various dispositions and' 
 interests, and enjoying a great share of liberty, 
 required the exercise of both skill and patience. 
 His administration was successful and the co- 
 lony was stated to have been at this period, when 
 compared with others of the same standing on 
 the continent, in an easy and flourishing condi- 
 tion. His old allies, the natives, were not over- 
 looked, and religion being ever a predominant 
 consideration with Penn, he engaged his friends 
 at a monthly meeting for discipline, held the be- 
 ginning of 1 700, in a plan for the instruction of 
 
I-IPE OF PENX. &9 
 
 the natives and of the negroes, who had now 
 been introduced among them, in the principles 
 of the Christian faith. Later experience has 
 shown that Christianity, to obtain a cordial and 
 general reception among these people, should be 
 preceded by her handmaid civilization. 
 
 A public school (free to the children of the 
 poor) had been already founded here. In the 
 second month, 1701, a treaty was held between 
 the governor and about forty of the chief per- 
 sons among the natives, in which besides renew- 
 ing former covenants, the parties established 
 some regulations on the subject of trade between 
 them: a principle care of the governor, on this 
 occasion, seems to have been to prevent the abo- 
 minable practice, already used by some unwor- 
 thy colonists, of drawing the natives into a ruin- 
 ous traffic, by offering them spirituous liquors. 
 
 During these transactions, an attempt was 
 making at home, under pretence of advancing the 
 prerogatives of the crown, and of the national 
 benefit, to invade the several proprietary govern- 
 ments in America, and reduce them to regal 
 ones. A bill for this purpose was already before 
 the lords, when the land owners of Pcnjisylva- 
 nia, present in England, petitioned the house, 
 and gained time for the governor's return; who, 
 on notice of the measure, presently embai'kcd, 
 and arrived at Portsmouth in December, 1701. 
 The bill, which had been postponed, was now 
 entirely dropped, and the accession of queen 
 Anne, soon after, placed Penn once more in the 
 sunshine of court. His estate, however, had 
 
70 LIFE OF PENN. 
 
 now suffered much by liberal disbursements, by 
 inadequate returns, and by the continual politi- 
 cal impediments thrown in his way. He was 
 moreover involved, in 1 707, in a suit at law w ith 
 the executors of a person who had been his stew- 
 ard; and his case not admitting of relief by the 
 court of chancery, he was obhged to live within 
 the rules of the Fleet, until the dispute could be 
 adjusted. Advantage was now taken of his em- 
 barrassments, by the ministry, to endeavour to 
 buy what was before to have been taken by an 
 act of power. He demanded for his province 
 ^'20,000, and after some discussion had agreed 
 to accept of ^12,000, when he was incapaci- 
 tated by illness from completing the sale. This 
 defect was to have been supplied by an act of 
 parliament, and by the queen's order one was 
 prepared. It now appeared, on the petition of 
 Henry Gouklney and others, that Pennsylvania 
 had actually been mortgaged to them by its pro- 
 prietor in 1708, for the sum of ^6600! Let us 
 turn from this prospect: it is sickening to see 
 public spirit and liberal enterprise reduced to 
 the necessity of pawning and setting to sale its 
 honourable fruits. The estate, however, was 
 not sold, but continued in the hands of Penn; 
 and the proprietaries, after the revolution in 
 America, received from the legislature of Penn- 
 sylvania the sum of ^130,000, in lieu of tiieir 
 quit-rents, besides retaining many valuable tracts 
 of land. They also received, by an act of the 
 British parliament, a remuneration of ^4000 per 
 
LIFE OF PENfV. 7 I 
 
 annum, in consideration of their losses and of 
 the " meritorious services" of their ancestor. 
 
 For the ten years after his return to Europe, 
 Penn lived mostly near London, and was still 
 active in religious and civil society. He wrote, 
 in 1709, " Some Account of the Life and Wri- 
 tings of Bulstrode Whitelock, Esq." This was 
 published along with the " Memorials of English 
 Affairs," written by that excellent man and 
 statesman, with whom Penn had been for many 
 years acquainted. In 1710, his health declining, 
 he took a handsome seat at Rushcombe, near 
 Twyford, Bucks. Here, in 1712, he was at- 
 tacked with fits, supposed to be apoplectic, by 
 which his understanding and memory were much 
 impaired, and he became, in consequence, unfit 
 for public action, though not insensible, as it ap- 
 pears, to the sym.pathy of his friends and the 
 comforts of religion in a peaceful conscience. 
 He died, after a gradual declension of six years, 
 on the 30th of tlie month called July, 1718, in 
 the 74th year of his age, and was interred at the 
 Quaker's burial ground, at Jordens, near Bea- 
 consfield. 
 
 One of the ablest and best informed of Penn's 
 cotemporaries, Burnet, in his history of his own 
 times, has exhibited him on several occasions to 
 some disadvantage, both as a man and a citizen. 
 That he should no where report any good of a 
 person so eminent, might justly excite our sur- 
 prise, were it not apparent that Penn was, on 
 several accounts, odious to this historian. We 
 must, therefore, receive the little he is pleased 
 
r^ LIFE 01' BARTRAM. 
 
 to say concerning him, with due allowance for 
 the effect of party prejudice. That Penn was 
 a perfect or a faultless character, will not, by 
 his warmest friends, be pretended. He appears 
 to have wanted discernment in his estimate of 
 affairs at home; but in his policy abroad, where 
 he moved without shackles, there is a soundness 
 of principle, and a dignity of feeling, that make 
 ample amends for this defect: his integrity was 
 evinced tli rough many severe trials: his errors 
 may be pronounced a fraction of no moment, 
 when set against ti^e great sum of good, of which, 
 under the Author of every good, he was the con- 
 scious and the willing donor to mankind. 
 
 BABTRAM. 
 
 John Bartkam, an eminent botanist, was 
 born near the village of Darby, in Chester coun- 
 ty, Pennsylvania, in the year 1701. His grand- 
 father of the same name accompanied William 
 Penn to this country in 1682. 
 
 This self taught genius early discovered an 
 ardent desire for the acquisition of knowledge, 
 especially of botanical knowledge; but the in- 
 fant state of the colony placed great obstacles 
 in his way. He however surmounted them by 
 intense application and the resources of his own 
 mind. By the assistance of respectable charac- 
 ters, he obtained the rudiments of the learned 
 languages, which he studied with extraordinary 
 success. So earnest was he in the pursuit of 
 
J.IFE OF BARTfiAM. TS 
 
 learning, that he could hardly spare time to eat; 
 and he might often have been found with his vic- 
 tuals in one hand and his book in the other. He 
 acquired so much knowledge of medicine and 
 surgery, as to administer great assistance to the 
 indigent and distressed in his neighbourhood. 
 He cultivated the ground as the means of sup- 
 porting a large family; but while ploughing or 
 sowing his fields, or mowing meadows, he was 
 still pushing his inquiries into the operations of 
 nature. 
 
 He was the first American who conceived and 
 carried into effect the design of a botanic gar- 
 len, for the cultivation of American plants, as 
 ivell as of exotics. He purchased a fine situa- 
 tion on the banks of the Schuylkill, about five 
 miles from Philadelphia, where he laid out with 
 liis own hands a large garden. He furnished it 
 ivith a variety of the most curious and beautiful 
 tegetables, collected in his excursions from Ca- 
 nada to Florida. These excursions were made 
 principally in autumn, when his presence at 
 lome was least demancZed by his agricultural 
 ivocations. His ardour in these pursuits was 
 mch, that at the age of seventy he made a jour- 
 ley into East Florida to explore its natural pro- 
 luctions. His travels among the Indians were 
 Vequently attended with danger and difliculty. 
 By his means the gardens of Europe were en- 
 riched with elegant flowering shrubs, with plants 
 md trees, collected in different parts of our 
 iountry, ^om the shore of lake Ontario to the 
 source of the river St. Juan. 
 
 G 
 
LIFE OF BAKTRAM. 
 
 He made such proficiency in his favourite 
 pursuit, that Linna3us pronounced him "the 
 greatest natural botanist in tlie world." 
 
 His eminence in natural history attracted the 
 esteem of the most distinguished men in Ame- 
 rica and Europe, and he corresponded with 
 many of them. By means of the friendship of 
 Sir Hans Sloane, Mr. Catesby, Dr. Hill, Lin- 
 naeus, and others, he was furnished with books 
 and apparatus, which he much needed, and 
 which greatly lessened the difficulties of his si- 
 tuation. He in return sent them what was new 
 and curious in the productions of America. 
 
 He was elected a member of several of the 
 most eminent societies and academies abroad, 
 and was at length appointed American botanist 
 to his Britannic majesty, George HI, in which 
 appointment he continued till his death, in Sep- 
 tember, 1777, in the seventy-sixth year of his 
 age. 
 
 Mr. Bartram was an ingenious mechanic. 
 The stone house in which he lived, he built him- 
 self, and several monum^^nts of his skill remain 
 in it. He was often his own mason, carpenter, 
 blacksmith, &c., and generally made his own 
 farming utensils. 
 
 His stature was rather above the middle size; 
 his body was erect and slender; his complexion 
 was sandy, his countenance was cheerful though 
 there was a solemnity in his air. His gentle 
 manners corresponded with bis amiable disposi- 
 tion. He was modest, liberal, charitable; a friend 
 to social order, and an advocate for the iibolition 
 
LIFE OF BARTRAM. 75 
 
 of slavery. He gave freedom to a young Afri- 
 can whom he had brought up; but he, in grati- 
 tude to his master, continued in his service. 
 Though temperate, he kept a plentiful table; 
 and annually on New Year's day, he made an 
 entertainment, consecrated to friendship and 
 philosophy. 
 
 He was born and educated in the society of 
 Friends. The following distich was engraved 
 by himself on a stone in the wall over the front 
 window of his own apartment: 
 
 "'Tis God alone, the Almighty Lord, 
 
 " The Holy One by me adoi'd. — John Bartram, 1770." 
 
 'He left several children. John, his youngest 
 son, succeeded him as proprietor of his botanic 
 garden ; but it is now chiefly under the superin- 
 tendence of another son, Mr. William Bartram, 
 who accompanied his father in many of his bo- 
 tanical tours, and who is well known by his 
 book, entitled "Travels through North and 
 South Carolina, East and West Florida, &c. 
 f)ublished in the year 1791. 
 
 Several of Mr. Bartram's communications in 
 zoology were published in the Philosophical 
 Transactions, between the years 1743 and 1749. 
 He published Observations on the Inhabitants, 
 CUmate, Soil, &c. made in a Tour from Penn- 
 sylvania to Onondago, London, 1751; Descrip- 
 ion of East Florida, 4to. 1774. 
 
Th LIFE OF BESEZET. 
 
 BENEZET. 
 
 AnthoiNV Benezet, a philanthropist of Phi- 
 ladelphia, was born at St. Q,nintus, a town in 
 the province of Picardy, France, on the 31st of 
 January, 1713. About the lime of his birth the 
 persecution against the Protestants was carried 
 on with relentless severity; in consequence of 
 which many thousands found it necessary to 
 leave their native country, and seek a shelter in 
 foreign lands. Among these were his parents, 
 who removed to London in February, 1715, and 
 after remaining there upwards of sixteen years, 
 came to Philadelphia in November, 1731. Du- 
 ring their residence in Great Britain, they had 
 imbibed the religious opinions of the society of 
 Friends, and they were received into that body 
 immediately after their arrival in this country. 
 
 In the early part of his life Benezet was put 
 an apprentice to a merchant; but soon after his 
 marriage, when his affairs were in a prosperous 
 situation, he left the mercantile business, that he 
 might engage in some pursuit, which was not so 
 adapted to excite or to promote a worldly spirit, 
 and which would afford him more leisure for the 
 duties of religion, and for the exercise of that 
 benevolent spirit, for which, during the course 
 of a long life, he was so conspicuous. But no 
 employment, which accorded perfectly with his 
 inclination, presented itself till the year 1742, 
 when he accepted the appointment of instructor 
 in the Friends' English School of Philadelphia. 
 
LIFE or BE.\fi2ivr. rr 
 
 The duties of the honourable, though not very 
 lucrative office of a teacher of youth, he from 
 this period continued to fulfil with unremitting 
 assiduity and delight, and with very little inter- 
 mission till his death. During the two last years 
 of his life, his zeal to do good induced him to 
 resign the school, which he had long superin- 
 tended, and to engage in the instruction of the 
 blacks. In doing this, he did not consult his 
 worldly interests, but was influenced by a regard 
 to the welfare of that miserable class of beings, 
 whose minds had been debased by servitude. 
 He wished to contribute something towards ren- 
 dering them fit for the enjoyment of that free- 
 dom to which many of them had been restored. 
 So great was his sympathy with every being 
 capable of feeling pain, that he resolved towards 
 Lhe close of his life to eat no animal food. About 
 a year before his decease, his health became 
 iiiuch impaired; but being of a lively disposition, 
 rery temperate, and zealously concerned to oc- 
 upy his talents to the last, he supported his 
 school till he was quite disabled from per/brming 
 he duties of it. But his charity and benefi- 
 cence continued with life. He died on the 3d 
 |)f May, 1784, in the seventy-second year of his 
 
 Such was (he general esteem in which he 
 
 jvas held, that his funeral was attended by per- 
 
 lons of all religious denominations. Many hun- 
 
 red negroes followed their friend and benefac- 
 
 or to the grave, and by their tears they proved, 
 
 lat they possessed the sensibility of men. An 
 
 g2 
 
rS LIFE OF BENEZET. 
 
 officer, who had served in the army during the 
 war with Great Britain, observed at this time, 
 " I would rather be Anthony Benezet in that 
 coffin, than George Washington with all his 
 fame/" 
 
 He exhibited uncommon activity and industry 
 in every thing which he undertook. He used 
 to say that the highest act of charity was to bear 
 with the unreasonableness of mankind. So dis- 
 posed was he to make himself contented in every 
 situation, that when his memory began to fail 
 him, instead of lamenting the decay of his pow- 
 ers, he said to a young friend, " This gives me 
 one great advantage over you; for you can find 
 entertainment in reading a book only once, but 
 I enjoy that pleasure as often as I read it, for it 
 is always new to me."' Few men, since the days 
 of the apostles, ever lived a more disinterested 
 life: yet upon his death bed he expressed his de- 
 sire to live a little longer, " that he might bring 
 down self.'' The last time he ever walked across 
 his room, was to take from his desk six dollars, 
 which Ke gave to a poor widow, whom he had 
 long assisted to maintain. In his conversation 
 he was affable and unreserved; in his manners 
 gentle and conciliating. For the acquisition of 
 wealth he wanted neither abilities nor opportu- 
 nity; but he made himself contented with a 
 little, and with a competency he wa& liberal be- 
 yond most of those whom a bountiful Providence 
 had encumbered with riches. By his will, he 
 devised his estate, after the decease of his wife. 
 
HFE OF BENEZET. 79 
 
 to certain trustees for the use of the African 
 school. 
 
 During the time the British army was in pos- 
 session of Philadelphia, he was indefatigable in 
 his endeavours to render the situation of the per- 
 sons, who suffered from captivity, as easy as pos- 
 sible. He knew no fear in the presence of a 
 fellow man, however dignified by titles or sta- 
 tion; and such was the propriety and gentleness 
 of his manners, in his intercourse with the gen- 
 tlemen who commanded the British and Ger- 
 man troops, that when he could not obtain the 
 object of his request, he never failed to secure 
 their civilities and esteem. 
 
 Though the life of Benezet was passed in the 
 instruction of youth, yet his expansive benevo- 
 lence extended itself to a wider sphere of useful- 
 ness. Giving but a small portion of his time to 
 sleep, he employed his pen both day and night 
 in writing books on religious subjects, composed 
 chiefly with a view to inculcate the peaceable 
 temper and doctrines of the gospel in opposition 
 to the spirit of war, and to expose the flagrant 
 injustice of slavery, and fix the stamp of infamy 
 on the traffic in human blood. His writings 
 contributed much towards meliorating the con- 
 dition of slaves, and undoubtedly had influence 
 on the public mind in effecting the complete 
 prohibition of that trade, which, till the year 
 1808, was a blot on the American national cha- 
 racter. 
 
 To disseminate his publications and increase 
 his usefulness, he held a correspondence with 
 
80 LIFE OF BENEZET. 
 
 such persons in various parts of Europe and 
 America, as united with him in the same bene- 
 volent design, or would be likely to promote the 
 objects which he was pursuing. No ambitious 
 or covetous views impelled him to his exertions. 
 Regarding all mankind as children of one com- 
 mon Father, and members of one great family, 
 he was anxious that oppression and tyranny 
 should cease, and that men should live together 
 in mutual kindness and affection. He himself 
 respected, and he wished others to respect, the 
 sacred injunction, " do unto others as you would 
 that they should do unto you." It may indeed 
 be said of him, that his whole life was spent in 
 going about doing good to men. He appear- 
 ed to do every thing as if the words of his Sa- 
 viour were continually sounding in his ears: 
 " Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's 
 business.^" 
 
 On the return of peace in 1783, apprehend- 
 ing that the revival of commerce would be likely 
 to renew the African slave trade, which during 
 the war had been in some measure obstructed, 
 he addressed a letter to the queen of Great Bri- 
 tain, to solicit her influence on the side of huma- 
 nity. At the close of this letter he says, " I hope 
 thou wilt kindly excuse the freedom used on this 
 occasion by an ancient man, whose mind for 
 more than forty years past has been much sepa- 
 rated from the common course of the world, and 
 long painfully exercised in the consideration of 
 the miseries under which so large a part of man- 
 kind, equally with us the objects of redeeming 
 
itFE or warhen. 81 
 
 love, are suffering the most unjust and grievous 
 oppression, and who sincerely desires the tem- 
 poral and eternal felicity of the queen and her 
 royal consort." 
 
 He published, among other tracts, A Cau- 
 tion to Great Britain and her Colonies in a short 
 Representation of the calamitous State of the 
 enslaved Negroes in the British Dominions, 
 1767; Some Historical Account of Guinea, with 
 an Inquiry into the Rise and Progress of the 
 Slave Trade, 1771; Observations on the Indian 
 Natives of this Continent, 1784. % 
 
 WARREN. 
 
 Joseph Warren, a major general in the 
 American army, was born at Roxbury, near Bos- 
 ton, in the year 1741. He was educated at Har- 
 vard university, where he was highly distinguish- 
 ed as a scholar, and had an honourable part in the 
 performances of the day on which he gradtiated ; 
 which w as in 1 759. Shortly after, he gained a 
 premium which was offered by some gentlemen 
 of the province for the best poem on occasion 
 of the death of George II, and succession of 
 George HI. Having completed the usual course 
 of medical studies, he established himself as a 
 physician at Boston, where he soon acquired an 
 extensive practice, and arrived at the highest 
 eminence in the profession. Had he been de- 
 sirous of wealth, or ambitious onlv of eminence 
 
82 I.IFE OF WARREN. 
 
 in his profession, his opportunities were such as 
 might have gratified his highest wishes. 
 
 But the oppressive acts of the Enghsh govern- 
 ment had excited an alarm, and Dr. Warren 
 took too deep an interest in the affairs of the 
 country, and felt too strongly the dangers that 
 threatened it, to suffer himself to be engrossed 
 by private business, when his exertions might 
 be of some use to the public. After the passing 
 of the stamp act, he undertook a serious exami- 
 nation of the right of parliament to tax the colo- 
 nie# and as his time was not at his command 
 during the day, his nights were spent in this in- 
 vestigation. When he had satisfied himself that 
 no such right existed, he was indefatigable in 
 his exertion to produce the same conviction on 
 the minds of others. He devoted himself to the 
 common cause with a zeal extremely prejudicial 
 to his private interests. While he was engaged 
 in disseminating the great truths he had learned, 
 his pecuniary affairs were neglected and became 
 greatly deranged. Young and ardent, with a 
 fine person, engaging manners, and a kind and 
 generous disposition, he enjoyed the affection 
 and confidence of all classes; and was thus ena- 
 bled to exert an influence extremely beneficial 
 to the cause he had espoused. By his writings 
 in the newspapers, his public speeches and ora- 
 tions, he laboured to infuse his own ardour into 
 the breasts of his fellow citizens. Probably no 
 man did more to excite and sustain the spirit of 
 opposition to British tyranny, for which Boston 
 was so early distinguished. Among his publica- 
 
LIFE 6¥ WARREX. 83 
 
 tions, one that particularly atti'acted tlie notice 
 of government, was a letter to governor Bernard, 
 in 1768, signed "A True Patriot/' concluding 
 with the quotation from Rochester — 
 
 "If such men are by God appointed, 
 "The devil may be the Lord's anointed." 
 
 The governor sent a message to the house, 
 and another to the council, complaining of it as 
 a libel. The council concurred with his excel- 
 lency that the author ought to be punished: the 
 house expressed a different opinion. It was 
 brought before the grand jury, who, howevei", 
 would not find a bill. In another piece the au- 
 thor vindicates himself from the charge of im- 
 piety brought by the council; and from that of 
 disrespect to his excellency, by alleging that the 
 obnoxious expressions could not be applied to 
 any one who was not conscious of the justice of 
 them. 
 
 It is said in EUiot's Biographical Dictionary, 
 that from 1768 a number of politicians met at 
 each other's houses, to discuss public affairs, and 
 settle upon the best methods of serving the town 
 and country. Many of them filled public offices, 
 but their meetings were private and had a silent 
 influence on the public body. In 1772, they 
 increased their number to more than sixty, by 
 the addition of some substantial mechanics. 
 Their regulations were drawn up by Dr. War- 
 ren and another gentleman, and they never did 
 any thing important without consulting him and 
 his particular friends. By this body of men the 
 
84 LIFE or AVARREN. 
 
 most important matters were decided. They 
 agreed who should be in town offices, in the ge- 
 neral court, in the provincial congress from Bos- 
 ton. Here the committees of public safety were 
 formed, the plan for military companies, and all 
 necessary means of defence. They were guided 
 by the prudence and skilful management of Dr. 
 Warren, who, with all his zeal and irritability, 
 was a man well calculated to carry on any se- 
 cret business; and no man ever did manifest 
 more vigilance, circumspection and care. 
 
 He twice delivered the annual oration com- 
 memorative of the massacre of the 5th of March, 
 1770; viz. In 1772 and 1775. About a month 
 before the last, some of general Gage^s officers 
 declared they would assassinate any one who 
 should dare to speak of the massacre on that 
 day. As soon as these threats reached the ears 
 of Dr. Warren, he expressed a desire to be 
 again appointed, with some diffidence however 
 of deserving the honour a second time. But as 
 there were not many equally willing to brave the 
 indignation of the military, his desire was grati- 
 fied, and he was rechosen. The day was a fine 
 one, and the Old South Meeting-house was so 
 crowded that the orator was obliged to make his 
 entrance by a ladder at the pulpit window. He 
 found the pulpit already occupied by the British 
 officers. Nevertheless, without any sign of tre- 
 pidation, he delivered from the midst of them as 
 warm an invective against British tyranny and 
 cruelty as any ever pronounced on the occasion. 
 To form an idea of its effect, we must consider 
 
LItiK OF WAltRliX. 85 
 
 le circumstances under which it was delivered. 
 a 1770, two regiments had been arbitrarily sta- 
 oned in Boston, to support the authority of go- 
 ernment. Their presence caused a disgust, 
 lat gave rise to those disturbances which ter- 
 linated in the slaughter of several of the citi- 
 ens. The commotion excited by this event 
 ad obliged the commanders at that time to with- 
 raw the troops. But to keep alive the feelings 
 f the occasion, and cherish the hatred to mili- 
 iry interference, this annual celebration was in- 
 ituted, and the inhabitants had till now regu- 
 irly assembled to hear the story of their wrongs, 
 lid to consecrate the day by resolutions of a 
 snewed and more determined spirit of freedom, 
 lie troops had now returned in greater force, 
 )r the express purpose of overa^ving the rebel- 
 ous town; and the people were daily irritated 
 y the insulting display of their power, by the 
 intentions constantly taking place, and by the 
 pxatious restraints necessarily arising from the 
 resence of a hostile soldiery. The leaders of 
 I at soldiery, in the insolence of power, had de- 
 ared that the usual celebration should not take 
 ace. But the people, upon whom threats had 
 I (ver had any other effect than to excite to more 
 porous opposition, had now assembled with the 
 I termination not to resign their privileges with- 
 f t a struggle. We may imagine the feelings 
 th which they saw the sanctuary of their reli- 
 )n and liberty violated; and the excitement 
 th which they listened as their orator recalled 
 their memories the bloody scene in State 
 
 H 
 
86 J,IFE OF WAUREiX. 
 
 street, while they saw befoi-e them the actors in 
 that scene, threatening a repetition. The Bri- 
 tish officers, warned by the animation which 
 they saw in the assembly, prudently abstained 
 from putting their threats into execution. Had 
 they attempted it, the second fifth of March 
 ^vould probably have been distinguished for a 
 deeper tragedy than the first. 
 
 Dr. Warren uniformly maintained the opinion 
 that Americans were able to obtain and defend 
 their rights. He did not however think it was 
 to be done by petitions and remonstrances. He 
 did not believe that the British ministry were to 
 be prevailed upon to alter their measures by 
 prayers and entreaties; or that a dearly cherish- • 
 ed scheme of revenue would be given up from j 
 a mere conviction of the justice of the case. He| 
 believed that we must go through an arduous, 
 struggle, and that much blood must be shed be-i 
 fore it was ended. But he had a high opinion jl 
 of the bravery of his countrymen, and never! 
 doubted that it would carry them successfully 
 through the contest. He sometimes expressed j 
 a belief that in that contest his own blood wouW i 
 be poured out; and seemed willing that such j 
 should be the event, if it would benefit his 
 country. 
 
 In the year 1774, he succeeded Hancock, as 
 president of the provincial congress. On the 
 evening of the 18th of April, 1775, he discover- 
 ed the design of General Gage to seize upon the jj 
 stores at Concord. He immediately despatch 
 a number of expresses by different routes 
 
LIFE OF WARREN. 87 
 
 Lexington. Some of them were taken by Eng- 
 lish officers, posted on the roads for the pur- 
 })ose, hut others escaped and reached Lexmg- 
 ton in time to give the alarm, and prepare the 
 militia for the engagement which took place the 
 next day. He himself hastened to the scene of 
 action, and was engaged in the hottest part of 
 it* In the course of it, a ball grazed his hair, 
 and took off a lock close to his ear. There 
 were frequent alarms about this time. Dr. War- 
 ren was always ready at the moment, and flew 
 to the spot where an action was expected. He 
 was engaged in some skirmishes that actually 
 occurred. 
 
 It is said in the biography above jjientioned, 
 that the undisciplined army so irregulaily col- 
 lected at Cambridge, were kept together by the 
 exertions of a few, "among whom generals 
 Ward and Putnam were distinguished; the one 
 for his firm and prudent conduct, and the other 
 lor his romantic courage. Dr. Warren was, 
 perhaps, the man who had the most influence, 
 and in whom the people in the environs of Bos- 
 ton and Cambridge placed their highest confi- 
 dence, and he did wonders in preserving order 
 among the troops.^' 
 
 It was lor his activity, energy and courage, 
 that he v^as appointed major general; for he had 
 never before been a military man or a parade 
 soldier. This appointment was made about four 
 days before the battle of Bunker's hill. It is 
 probable that he received his commission the 
 dav before. On the 16th of June he had a con- 
 
88 LIFE OF WARREN. 
 
 versation with Mr. Gerry, at Cambridge, respect- 
 ing the (leterm illation of Congress to take pos- 
 session of Bunker's hill. He said that for himself 
 he had been opposed to it, but that the majority 
 had determined upon it, and he would hazard 
 his life to carry their determination into effect. 
 Mr. Gerry expressed in strong terms his disap- 
 probation of the measure, as the situation w^as 
 such, that it would be in vain to attempt to hold 
 it; adding, "' but if it must be so, it is not worth 
 while for you to be present; it will be madness 
 to expose yourself, where your destruction will 
 be almost inevitable.'' "I know it,^' he an- 
 swered; "but I live within the sound of their 
 cannon; |jow could I hear their roaring in so 
 glorious a cause, and not be there!" Again Mr. 
 Gerry remonstrated, and concluded with saying, 
 " As surely as you go there, you will be slain." 
 General Warren replied enthusiastically, " Dulce 
 et decorum est pro patria mori." The next day 
 his principles were sealed with his blood. Hav- 
 ing spent the greater part of the night in public 
 business at Watertown, he arrived at Cam- 
 bridge at about five o'clock in the morning, and 
 being unwell, threw himself on a bed. About 
 noon he was informed of the state of prepara- 
 tion for battle at Charlestown; he immediately 
 arose, saying he was well again, and mounting 
 a horse, rode to the place. He arrived at 
 Breed's hill a short time before the action com- 
 menced. Colonel Prescot, "the brave," (as 
 Washington was afterwards in the habit of call- 
 ing him) was then the actual commanding offi- 
 
LIVE or WAKUEX. 89 
 
 cer. He came up to general Warren to resign 
 his command, and asked what were his orders. 
 General Warren told him he came not to com- 
 mand but to learn; and having, as it is said, bor- 
 rowed a musket and cartouch box from a ser- 
 geant who was retiring, he mingled in the thick- 
 est of the tight, animating and encouraging the 
 men more by his example than it was possible 
 to do in any other way. He fell after the re- 
 treat commenced, at some distance in the rear 
 of the redoubt. A ball passed through his head, 
 and killed him almost instantly. His body was 
 thrown info the ground where he fell, in com- 
 pany with several others. Ten months after, a 
 native of Great Britain, who was in Boston at 
 the time of the battle, came to his friends, and 
 told them he could point out the spot where the 
 general was buried. He was offered a reward 
 if his information should be correct; and two 
 brothers of the general, with some other gentle- 
 men, accompanied him to the field. A sexton 
 commenced digging on the spot he pointed out, 
 and a coipse soon began to appear. The bro- 
 thers, unable to remain longer, retired, having 
 informed the other gentlemen that their brother 
 might be distinguished by a particular false tooth. 
 He was identified accordingly, and brought to 
 Boston, where an eulogy was pronounced over 
 'him by Perez Morton, esq. on the 8th of April, 
 1776. 
 
 On the third of April, the same day the body 
 was discovered, a resolution was passed by the 
 council and house of representatives, authorizing 
 H 2 
 
90 LIFE OF WARRKX. 
 
 the freemasons to remove the body and bury it 
 with their usual solemnities " in such a manner 
 that the government of this colony may here- 
 after have an opportunity of erecting a monu- 
 ment to the memory of this valiant and patriotic 
 American." Dr. Warren had in 1773, by com- 
 mission from the earl of Dumfries, grand master 
 of the masons in Scotland, been appointed grand 
 master of masons for the continent of America. 
 The masons of Charlestown erected the monu- 
 ment to his memory now standing on Breed's 
 hill. On the Stii of April, 1777, the general 
 congress passed the following resolution: — That 
 a monument be erected to the memory of gene- 
 ral Warren in the town of Boston, with the fol- 
 l<4wing inscription: 
 
 In honour of 
 JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 MAJOR GENERAL OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY. 
 
 He devoted his life to the liberties 
 
 of his country, 
 and in bravely defending them, fell 
 
 an early victim, 
 in the 
 
 DATTiE OF bunker's HILL, 
 
 June 17, 1775. 
 
 THE CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 as an acknowledgment of his servises, 
 
 and distinguished merit, 
 
 have erected this monument 
 
 to his memory. 
 
 It was resolved likewise that the eldest son of 
 general Warren should be educated from that 
 time at the expense of the United States. 
 
 On the first of July, 1780, Congress, recog- 
 
LIFE OF GREENE. 01 
 
 nising their former resolutions, further resolved, 
 that it should be recommended to the executive 
 of Massachusetts Bay, to make provision for the 
 maintenance and education of his three younger 
 children. And that Congress would defray the 
 expense to the amount of the half pay of a major 
 general, to commence at the time of his death, 
 and continue till the youngest of the children 
 should be of age. The part of the resolutions 
 relating to the education of the children was 
 carried into effect accordingly. 
 
 GREENE. 
 
 Nathaniel Greene, a major general of the 
 army of the United States, was born in War- 
 wick, Rhode Island, about the year 1740. His 
 parents were Q,uakers. His father was an an- 
 chor smith, who was concerned in some valua- 
 ble iron works, and transacted much business. 
 While he was a boy, he learned the Latin 
 tongue chiefly by his own unassisted industry. 
 Having procured a small library, his mind was 
 much improved, though the perusal of military 
 history occupied a considerable share of his at- 
 tention. Such was the estimation in which his 
 character was held, that he was at an early pe- 
 riod of his life chosen a member of the assem- 
 bly of Rhode Island. After the battle of Lex- 
 ington had enkindled at once the spirit of Ame- 
 ricans throughout the whole continent, Mr. 
 Greene, though educated in the peaceful princi- 
 
92 L1¥E OF GREENE. 
 
 pies of the Friends, could not extinguish the 
 martial ardour which had been excited in his 
 own breast. Receiving the command of three 
 regiments, with the title of brigadier general, he 
 led them to Cambridge; in consequence of which 
 the Quakers renounced all connexion with him 
 as a member of their rehgious body. On the 
 arrival of Washington at Cambridge, he was the 
 first who expressed to the commander in chief 
 his satisfaction in his appointment, and he soon 
 gained his entire confidence. He was appointed 
 by Congress major general in August, 1776. In 
 the battles of Trenton, on the 26th of Decem- 
 ber following, and of Princeton, on the 3d of Ja- 
 nuary, 1777, he was much distinguished. He 
 commanded the left wing of the American army 
 at the battle of Germantown on the 4th of Oc- 
 tober. In March, 1778, he was appointed quar- 
 termaster general, which office he accepted on 
 condition that his rank in the army should not 
 be affected, and that he should retain his com- 
 mand in the time of action. This right he ex- 
 ercised on the 28th of June, at the battle of 
 Monmouth. His courage and skill were again 
 displayed on the 29th of August in Rhode Island. 
 He resigned in this year the office of quarter- 
 master general, and was succeeded by colonel 
 Pickering. After the disasters which attended 
 the American arms in South Carolina, he was 
 appointed to supersede Gates, and took the 
 command in the southern department, Decem- 
 ber 3d, 1 780. Having recruited the army, which 
 had been exceedingly reduced by defeat and de- 
 
LIFE OJ? GREENE. 93 
 
 t^crtion, he sent out a detachment under the 
 brave general Moi'gan, who gained the impor- 
 tant victory at the Con pens, January 17th, 1781. 
 Greene effected a junction with him on the 7th 
 of February; but on account of the superior 
 numbers of Cornwall is, he retreated with great 
 skill to Virginia. Having received an accession 
 to his forces, he returned to North Carolina, and 
 in the battle of Guildford, on the 15th of March, 
 was defeated. The victory, however, was dearly 
 bought by the British, for their loss was greater 
 than that of the Americans, and no advantages 
 were derived from it. In a few days Cornwallis 
 began to march towards Wilmington, leaving 
 many of his wounded behind him, which had 
 the appearance of a retreat, and Greene follow- 
 ed him for some time. But altering his plan, he 
 resolved to recommence offensive operations in 
 South Carolina. He accordingly marched di- 
 rectly to Camden, where, on the 25ih of April, 
 he was engaged with lord Rawdon. Victory in- 
 clined for some time to the Americans, but the 
 retreat of two companies occasioned the defeat 
 of the whole army. Greene retreated in good 
 order, and took such measures as effectually 
 prevented lord Rawdon from improving his suc- 
 cess, and obliged him in the beginning of May 
 to retire beyond the Santee. While he was in 
 the neighbourhood of Santee, Greene hung in 
 one day eight soldiers who had deserted from 
 his aruiy. For three months afterwards no in- 
 stance of desertion took place. A number of 
 forts and garrisons in South Carolina now fell 
 
54 LIFE OF GEEENK. 
 
 into his hands. He commenced tlie siege of 
 Ninety Six on the 22d of May, but he was 
 obHged on the approach of lord Rawdon in 
 June to raise the siege. The army, which had 
 been highly encouraged by the late success, was 
 now reduced to the melancholy necessity of re- 
 treating to the extremity of the state. The Ame- 
 rican commander was advised to retire to Vir- 
 ginia; but to suggestions of this kind he rephed, 
 " I will recover South Carolina, or die in the 
 attempt.'^ Waiting till the British forces were 
 divided, he faced about, and lord Rawdon was 
 pursued in his turn, and was offered battle after 
 he reached his encampment at Orangeburgh, 
 but he declined it. On the 8th of September, 
 Greene covered himself with glory by the vic- 
 tory at the Eutaw Springs, in which the British, 
 who fought with the utmost bravery, lost eleven 
 hundred men, and the Americans about half that 
 number. For his good conduct in this action, 
 Congress presented him with a British standard 
 and a golden medal. This engagement may be 
 considered as closing the revolutionary war in 
 South Carolina. During the remainder of his 
 command, he had to struggle with the greatest 
 difficulties from the want of supplies for his 
 troops. Strong symptoms of mutiny appeared, 
 but his firmness and decision completely quell- 
 ed it. 
 
 After the conclusion of the war, he returned 
 to Rhode Island, where the greatest dissentions 
 prevailed; and his endeavours to restore har- 
 mony were attended with success. In October. 
 
Llii: OF GREENE. 95 
 
 1785, he sailed to Georgia, where he had a con- 
 siderable estate, not far distant from Savannah. 
 Here he passed his time as a private citizen, oc- 
 cupied by domestic concerns. While walking 
 without an umbrella, the intense rays of the 
 sun overpowered him, and occasioned an inflam- 
 mation of the brain, of which he died, June 19th, 
 
 1786, in the forty-seventh year of his age. In 
 August following, Congress ordered a monu- 
 ment to be erected to his memory at the seat of 
 the federal government. 
 
 General Greene possessed a humane and be- 
 nevolent disposition, and abhorring the cruelties 
 and excesses of which partizans on both sides 
 were guilty, he uniformly inculcated a spirit of 
 moderation. Yet he was resolutely severe, when 
 the preservation of discipline rendered severity 
 necessary. In the campaign of 1781, he dis- 
 played the prudence, the military skill, the un- 
 shaken firmness, and the daring courage, which 
 are seldom combined, and which place him in 
 the first rank of American officers. His judg- 
 ment was correct, and his self possession never 
 once forsook him. In one of his letters he says, 
 that he was seven months in the field without 
 taking oflT his clothes for a single night. It is 
 thought that he was the most endeared to the 
 commander in chief of all his associates in arms. 
 Washington often lamented his death with the 
 keenest sorrow. 
 
90 Llf ii OF FR.VMCLIN. 
 
 FRANKLIN. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, L.L.D. an American 
 philosopher and pohtician of high celebrity, was 
 born at Boston, New England, in the year 1706. 
 He was the youngest son of Josiah Franklin, a 
 silk dyer in Northamptonshire, who, on account 
 of the persecutions carried on in the reign of 
 Charles the Second against the Nonconformists, 
 removed to America, where he embraced the 
 occupation of a soapboiler and tallowchandler, 
 reared a numerous family by honest industry, 
 and was distinguished among his townsmen as a 
 person of sound judgment and sober piety. His 
 other sons were put apprentices to different 
 trades; but Benjamin was destined for the 
 church, and, at the ag^ of eight years, was sent 
 to a grammar school. He was removed, how- 
 ever, at the end of the first year, to a school for 
 writing and arithmetic; and at ten years of age 
 was taken home to assist in his father's occu- 
 pation. 
 
 From his earliest years he discovered a pas- 
 sionate love of reading, especially the accounts 
 of voyages; and he mentions Plutarch's Lives, 
 and De Foe's Essay on Projects, as among the 
 few books of general information to which he 
 had access. This inclination for books, and the 
 strong aversion which he showed to the occupa- 
 tion of his father, suggested the plan of binding 
 him apprentice to one of his brothers, who had 
 established a printing house at Boston. In this 
 
jLlFii OF FRANKLIX. 97 
 
 Situation, he had an opportunity of procuring 
 better books, and pursued his studies with such 
 avidity, that he frequently spent the whole night 
 in reading. He soon began to commit nis own 
 thoughts to writing; and by making summaries 
 of papers from the Spectator, which he after- 
 wards endeavoured to expand, from recollection, 
 into their original form, he Hlboured to improve 
 his style without any other instructor. With a 
 passion for reading and writing, he imbibed a 
 kindred one for disputation, and adopting the 
 Socratic method, he became dexterous in con- 
 futing and confounding an antagonist by a series 
 of questions. This course gave him a sceptical 
 turn with regard to religion; and while he was 
 young he took every opportunity of propagating 
 his tenets, and with as much zeal as is shown 
 by a new convert to any other doctrine. He 
 was, however, soon convinced, by the effect pro- 
 duced on some of his companions, that it was 
 extremely dangerous to loosen the ties of reli- 
 gion, without the probability of substituting other 
 principles equally efficacious. The doubts which 
 subsisted in his own mind he was, perhaps, never 
 fully able to remove; but he was not deficient 
 in fortifying himself with such moral principles, 
 as directed him to the most valuable ends by ho- 
 nourable means. He, by habits of self denial, 
 early formed in his mind, obtained a complete 
 dominion over his appetites, so that at the age of 
 sixteen he readily discarded animal food, from 
 the conviction produced in his mind by perusing 
 a work on the subject. He now proposed to 
 
98 J.IIE OF IKV^KLIN. 
 
 his brother, that if he would allow him per week 
 one half of what was paid for his board, he would 
 undert^e to maintain himself Out of this little 
 fund h* contrived to purchase books, as well as 
 to pay for his subsistence, and, by his new mode 
 of living, saved much time for his favourite pur- 
 suits. 
 
 Receiving some* ill treatment from his bro- 
 ther, he determined to leave Boston, and seek 
 employment elsewhere. The brother had set 
 up a newspaper, in which the apprentice con- 
 trived to insert some papers and essays anony- 
 mously, that were read and highly commended 
 by persons of the best judgment and taste in the 
 town. The young man began now to feel his 
 importance, which was still more impressed on 
 him by having the paper published in his own 
 name, that of his brother, for some political of- 
 fence, having been interdicted by the state. In 
 consequence of this, his indentures were can- 
 celled. He went on board a sloop, and soon 
 arrived at New York. Finding no employment 
 here, he pursued his way to Philadelphia, and 
 entered the city destitute of friends, and with 
 only a dollar in his pocket. There were at this 
 time two printers in Philadelphia, Mr. Andrew 
 Bradford, and Mr. Keimer; by the latter of 
 whom he was employed. Sir William Keith, 
 the governor, having been informed that Frank- 
 lin was a young man of promising talents, invited 
 him to his house, treated him in the most friend- 
 ly manner, and urged him to set up for himself; 
 at the same time assuring him of his support and 
 
T.IFE OF FKANKLIX. 99 
 
 protection. Franklin attempted to gain pecu- 
 niary aid from his parents, but was disappointed. 
 The governor then persuaded him to make a 
 voyage to England, to furnish himself witli all 
 the necessaries for a new printing office. He 
 embraced the proposal, and accompanied by his 
 friend Ralph, he sailed for England in 1725. 
 Before his departure, he exchanged promises of 
 fidelity with Miss Read of Philadelphia, with 
 whose father he had lodged. Upon his arrival 
 in London, Mr. Franklin found that governor 
 Keith, upon whose letters of credit and recom- 
 mendation he had relied, had entirely deceived 
 him. He was now obliged to work as a jour- 
 neyman printer, and obtained employment in an 
 office in Bartholomew-close. His friend did not 
 so readily find the means of subsistence, and was 
 a constant drain upon the earnings of Franklin. 
 In this great city the morals of the young tra- 
 vellers were not much improved: Ralph forgot, 
 or acted as if he had forgotten, that he had a 
 wife and child across the Atlantic; and Frank- 
 lin was as little attentive to the promises and en- 
 gagements he was under to Miss Read. About 
 this period he published " A Dissertation on Li- 
 berty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain," dedi- 
 cated to Ralph, and intended as an answer to 
 Wollaston^s " Religion of Nature." This piece 
 gained for him some degree of reputation, and 
 introduced him to the acquaintance of Dr. Man- 
 deville, author of the " Fable of the Bees," and 
 some other literary characters. Franklin was 
 always temperate and industrious, and his habits 
 
1 00 LIFE OF PKANKLIX. 
 
 in these respects were eventually the means of 
 securing his morals, as well as of raising his for- 
 tune. In tlie interesting account which he has 
 left us of his own life, Mr. Franklin has given a 
 narrative of the method which he took in re- 
 forming the sottish habits of his fellow workmen 
 in the second printing office in which he was 
 engaged in London, and which was situated in 
 the neighbourhood of LincolnVinn-fields. He 
 tried to persuade them that there was more real 
 sustenance in a penny roll than in a pint of por- 
 ter. At first the plan of economy which he pro- 
 posed was treated with contempt or ridicule, 
 but in the end he was able to induce several of 
 them to substitute a warm and nourishing break- 
 fast in the place of stimulating liquors. 
 
 In 1726 he returned to Philadelphia, where 
 he first engaged himself as a clerk in a mercan- 
 tile house; and in the course of a year he be- 
 came the superintendent of Keimer's printing 
 office, where he acquired so much esteeui and 
 so far improved his connexions, tliat he resolved 
 to embark in business for himself He entered 
 into partnership with a fellow workman, named 
 Meredith, whose friends were enabled to furnish 
 a supply of money sufficient for the concern, 
 which was no doubt very small; for Franklin 
 has recorded the high degree of pleasure which 
 he experienced from a payment of five shillings 
 only, the first fruits of their earnings. " The 
 recollection," says this noble spirited man, " of 
 what I felt on this occasion, has rendered me 
 more disposed, than perhaps I might otherwise 
 
LIFE OF FUANKLIX. 101 
 
 have been, to encourage young beginners in 
 trade." His habitual industry and undeviating 
 punctuality obtained him the notice and business 
 of the principal people in the place. He insti- 
 tuted a club under the name of " The Junto," 
 for the purpose of the discussion of political and 
 philosophical questions, which proved an excel- 
 lent school for the mutual improvement of its 
 several members. The test proposed to every 
 candidate before his admission was this: "Do 
 you sincerely declare that you love mankind in 
 general, of what profession or religion soever .'^ 
 Do you think any person ought to be harmed in 
 his body, name, or goods, for mere speculative 
 opinions, or his external way of worship.^ Do 
 you love truth for truth's sake; and will you en- 
 deavour impartially to find and receive it your- 
 self, and communicate it to others.'*" This in- 
 stitution was continued almost forty years, and 
 became the foundation of the American Philo- 
 sophical Society. 
 
 Mr. Franklin and his partner ventured to set 
 up a new public paper, which his own efforts 
 as a writer and printer caused to succeed, and 
 they obtained likewise the printing of the votes 
 and laws of the assembly. In process of time, 
 Meredith withdrew from the partnership, and 
 Franklin met with friends who enabled him to 
 take the whole concern in his own hands, and 
 add to it the business of a stationer. A discus- 
 sion concerning a new emission of paper money 
 taking place, he wrote an anonymous pamphlet 
 in favour of the measure, which was received 
 i2 
 
102 llFE OP FRANKLiJf. 
 
 with applause, and which contributed to the suc- 
 cess of the measure, and to the prosperity of the 
 writer. In 1730 he married the lady to whom 
 he had pledged his vows before he embarked for 
 England, although, from his neglect of her, she 
 liad been before married to a man then dead. 
 
 The establishment of a public library was one 
 of the useful projects of Franklin, which he 
 brought to effect in the year 1731. The bene- 
 ficial influence of this institution was soon evi- 
 dent. The cheapness of terms rendered it ac- 
 cessible to every one. Hence a degree of infor- 
 mation was extended among all classes of peo- 
 ple, which is very unusual in other places. The 
 example was soon followed. Libraries were es- 
 tablished in various places; and they are now 
 become very numerous in the United States, 
 particularly in Pennsylvania. It is hoped that 
 they will be still more widely extended, and that 
 information will be every where increased. This 
 will be the best security for maintaining our liber- 
 ties. A nation of well informed men, who have 
 been taught to know and prize the riglits which 
 God has given them, cannot be enslaved. It is 
 in the regions of ignorance alone that tyranny 
 reigns. 
 
 In 1732, he began to publish "Poor Richard^s 
 Almanac,^^ a work which became remarkable 
 by the number of excellent prudential maxims 
 occasionally inserted in it; calculated by their 
 conciseness, to be readily and indeliby impressed 
 on the memory. They have been since collect- 
 ed into a single piece, entitled, " The Way to 
 
LIFE or FRANKLIN. lOS 
 
 Wealth/' which has been published in a variety 
 of forms. 
 
 The pohtical career of Benjamin Frankhn 
 began in the year 1736, when he was appointed 
 clerk to the general assembly of Pennsylvania; 
 an office which he held for several years, till he 
 was at length elected a representative. In the 
 following year he obtained the valuable office of 
 postmaster to the city of Philadelphia. In 1738 
 he improved the police of the city, with respect 
 to the dreadful calamity of fire, by forn)ing a so- 
 ciety called a fire company, to which was after- 
 wards added an insurance office against losses 
 by fire. In the French war of 1744, he stood 
 forth, and proposed a plan of voluntary associa- 
 tion for defence, which was shortly joined by 
 10,000 persons. Franklin was chosen colonel 
 of the Philadelphia regiment, which he did not 
 accept, on account of the pursuits in which he 
 was then engaged. 
 
 In all important discussions in the assembly, 
 his presence was considered as indispensable. 
 He seldom spoke, or exhibited any oratory; but 
 by a single observation he sometimes determined 
 the fate of a question. In the long controver- 
 sies with the proprietaries or their governors, he 
 took the most active part, and displayed a firm 
 spirit of liberty. 
 
 Pursuits of a different nature now (1745) be- 
 gan to occupy his attention. He engaged in a 
 course of electrical experiments. Of all the 
 branches of experimental philosophy, electricity 
 bad been least explored. The ancients had ob- 
 
104 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 served of some substances, that by friction they 
 acquired the power of attracting light bodies, as 
 down, pieces of straw, &c. To this strange pro- 
 perty they gave the name of electricity, from 
 electram, the Latin word for amber, which pos- 
 sessed this power in the highest degree. Se- 
 veral modern naturalists repeated the experi- 
 ment; whence it was at length discovered, that 
 sparkles of fire and streams of light were emit- 
 ted from it to bodies in contact with it. The 
 celebrated Boyle, Dr. Watson, Otto, Gruriche, 
 and sir Isaac Newton, added some facts. In 
 1742, several ingenious Germans engaged in 
 this subject. Of these the principal were, pro- 
 fessor Boze, of Wittemberg; professor Winkler, 
 of Leipsic; Gordon, a Scotch Benedictine monk, 
 professor of philosophy at Erfurt; and Dr. Lu- 
 nolfj of Berlin. The result of their researches 
 astonished the European philosophers. Their 
 apparatus was large, and by means of it they 
 were enabled to collect large quantities of elec- 
 tricity, and thus to produce phenomena which 
 had been hitherto unobserved. They killed 
 small animals, and set spirits of wine on fire. 
 Their experiments excited the curiosity of other 
 philosophers. Peter Collinson had sent to the 
 Library Society of Philadelphia, an account of 
 these experiments, together with an electrical 
 instrument, and directions for its use. Frank- 
 lin, with some of his friends, immediately began 
 to apply to the subject, and in a short time he 
 made many valuable and highly important disco- 
 veries, an account of which he published in three 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 105 
 
 pieces, entitled "New Experiments and Obser- 
 vations in Electricity, made at Philadelphia in 
 America." Having been led to think, that in 
 the excitation of the electric tube, the fluid was 
 conveyed from the person who rubbed it to him 
 who touched it, he designated the state of the 
 latter by the expression of being electrified jwsi- 
 tiveltj, or j)lus, as having received more than his 
 original quantity, while the former was said to 
 be electrified negatively, or minus, as having lost 
 a part of his natural portion. This led to the 
 discovery of the Leyden phial, the theory of 
 which is, that when one side of the glass is elec- 
 trified plus, the other side is electrified minus; 
 so that in charging it, all that is done is to throw 
 the electricity from one side, and convey it to 
 the other, while discharging it is the restoration 
 of the equilibrium. He further demonstrated, 
 by decisive experiments, that the accumulated 
 electricity in the charged side of the phinl, re- 
 sided not in the coating, but in the glass itself; 
 but the most brilliant of his discoveries was that 
 which proved the identity of the electric fluid 
 and lightning. Their similarity had been sus- 
 pected by the Abbe Nollet, and some experi- 
 ments had begun to be made in France towards 
 the verification of the fact, but Franklin com- 
 pleted the proof of it entirely by his own expei'i- 
 ments. In the year 1749, he conceived the idea 
 of explaining the phenomena of thunder gusts, 
 and of the aurora borealis, upon electrical prin- 
 ciples; he pointed out many particulars in which 
 lightning and electi'icity agreed, and he adduced 
 
106 LIFE OF FRANKLliV. 
 
 many facts, and reasonings from facts, in sup- 
 port of his positions. In .the same year he 
 thought of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine 
 by drawing down the forked hghtning, by means 
 of sharp pointed iron rods raised unto the region 
 of the clouds. Admitting the identity of elec- 
 tricity, and knowing the power of points in con- 
 ducting away silently the electric fluid, he sug- 
 gested the idea of securing houses, ships, &c. 
 from the damages to which they were liable from 
 lightning, by erecting pointed iron rods, which 
 should rise some feet above the most elevated 
 part, and descend some feet into the ground or the 
 water. The effect of these, he concluded, would 
 be either to prevent a stroke by repelhng the 
 cloud beyond the striking distance, or by draw- 
 ing olf the electrical fluid which it contained; or, 
 at least, conduct the stroke to the earth, without 
 any injury to the building. 
 
 It was not till the summer of 1752, that Mr. 
 Franklin was enabled to complete his grand ex- 
 periment. The plan which he proposed was, to 
 erect on some high tower, or elevated place, a 
 sort of hut, from which should rise a pointed 
 iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of 
 resin. Electrified clouds passing over this would, 
 he conceived, impart to it a portion of their elec- 
 tricity, which miglit be rendered evident to the 
 senses by sparks being emitted, when the knuckle 
 or other conductor was presented to it. While 
 he was waiting for the erection of a spire, it oc- 
 curred to him, that he might have more ready 
 access to the region of the clouds bv means of 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. lOr 
 
 a common kite; he accordingly prepared one 
 for the purpose, affixing to the upright stick an 
 iron point. The string was, as usual, of hemp, 
 except the lower end, which was silk, and where 
 the hempen part terminated, a key was fasten- 
 ed. With this simple apparatus, on the appear- 
 ance of a thunder storm approaching, he went 
 into the fields, accompanied by his son, to whom 
 alone he communicated his intentions, dreading, 
 probably, the ridicule which frequently awaits 
 unsuccessful attempts in experimental philoso- 
 phy. For some time no sign of electricity ap- 
 peared; he was beginning to despair of success, 
 when he suddenly observed the loose fibres of 
 the string to start forward in an erect position. 
 He now presented his knuckle to the key, and 
 received a strong spark. How exquisite must 
 his sensations have been at this moment? On 
 this experiment depended the fate of his theory. 
 Repeated sparks were drawn from the key; a 
 phial was charged, a shock given, and all the 
 experiments made, which are usually performed 
 with electricity. He immediately fixed an insu- 
 lated iron rod upon his house, which drew down 
 the lightning, and gave him an opportunity of 
 examining whether it were positive or negative; 
 and hence he applied his discovery to the se- 
 curing of buildings from the effects of lightning. 
 Previously to his experiments in electricity, he 
 applied his mechanical and philosophical know- 
 ledge to the construction of fire-places, com- 
 bining the qualities of an open grate with that 
 of a stove. As a politician he had been elected 
 
108 LIFE OF rUAAKT-IN. 
 
 a representative of the city of Philadelphia to 
 the general assembly of the province. His prin- 
 ciples in favour of equality of rights led him al- 
 ways to take the popular side^ and he quickly 
 obtained such an influence that he was regarded 
 as the head of the party. The ability and punc- 
 tuality which he had displayed in his office of 
 postmaster, caused him, in 1753, to be raised to 
 the important employ of deputy-postmaster for 
 the British colonies; and in the same year, the 
 Academy of Philadelphia, projected by him, was 
 estabhshed. In 1 754, he was one of the com- 
 missioners, who attended the Congress at Al- 
 bany, to devise the best means of defending the 
 country against the French. He drew up a 
 plan of union for defence and general govern- 
 ment, which was adopted by the Congress. It 
 was, however, rejected by the Board of Trade 
 in England, because it gave too much power to 
 the representatives of the people; and it was re- 
 jected by the assemblies of the colonies, because 
 it gave too much power to the president gene- 
 ral. After the defeat of Braddock, in 1 755, he 
 was appointed colonel of a regiment, and he re- 
 paired to the frontiers and built a fort. When, 
 in 1757, the militia was to be disbanded by or- 
 ders from England, he sailed for London in the 
 capacity of agent for Pennsylvania, the assembly 
 of which was involved in warm disputes with the 
 proprietary interest. After much discussion be- 
 fore the privy council, it was agreed, that the 
 proprietary lands should take their share in a 
 tax for the public service, provided that Frank- 
 
J-lfE OF FRANKLIN. 109 
 
 lin would engage that the assessment should be 
 fairly proportioned. The measure was accord- 
 ingly carried into effect, and he remained at the 
 British court as agent for his province; and his 
 reputation caused him also to be entrusted with 
 the like commission from Massachusetts, Mary- 
 land, and Georgia. The molestation received 
 by the British colonies from the French in Ca- 
 nada, induced him to write a pamphlet, pointing 
 out the advantages of a conquest of that pro- 
 vince by the English; and the subsequent expe- 
 dition against it, and its retention under the Bri- 
 tish government at the peace, were, it is be- 
 lieved, much influenced by the force of his argu- 
 ments on the subject. About this period, his 
 talents as a philosopher were duly appreciated 
 in various parts of Europe. He was admitted a 
 fellow of the Royal Society of London, and was 
 honoured with the degree of doctor of laws by 
 the universities of St. Andrews, Edinburgh, and 
 Oxford. 
 
 He returned to America in 1762, where he 
 received the thanks of the assembly for his ser- 
 vices, and a remuneration for his labours under- 
 taken and accomplished on their behalf. He 
 resumed his seat in that body, to which he had 
 been annually elected during his absence, and 
 continued to distinguish himself as a friend to 
 the cause of the people. The active part which 
 he took against the proprietary interest, occa- 
 sioned the loss of his election in 1764, but he 
 was immediately reappointed agent for the pro- 
 vince, and embarked again for England. It was 
 
 K 
 
1 10 lAFE 6\^ IRANKtIX. 
 
 at this period that the stamp act excited sueli 
 violent commotions in America; and Dr. Frank- 
 Hn, almost immediately after his return to Lon- 
 don, was called to the bar of the House of Com- 
 mons, to give evidence respecting the disposi- 
 tions of the people to submit to it. His repre- 
 sentations, in which he evinced the utmost self 
 possession and an astonishing accuracy and ex- 
 tent of information, had a considerable effect in 
 producing the repeal of that obnoxious measure. 
 
 In the years 1766 and 1767, he paid visits to 
 Holland, Germany and France, where he met 
 with a very distinguished reception. About the 
 year 1773, some letters of Thomas Hutchinson, 
 governor of Massachusetts, falling into the hands 
 of Dr. Franklin, were transmitted by him to the 
 legislature in America, and which he did from 
 a sense of duty as the agent of the colony, for 
 these letters proved governor Hutchinson to be 
 a secret enemy to his country, who stimulated 
 the ministry to enforce their plans, and who 
 even declared to them, that " there must be an 
 abridgment of English liberties in colonial ad- 
 ministration." But Dr. Franldin ever refused 
 to make knowp how he procured these letters. 
 In a very short time after this he was removed 
 from his oflice of postmaster-general for America. 
 
 Finding all his efforts to restore harmony be- 
 tween Great Britain and the colonies useless, 
 Dr. Franklin returned to America in 1775, just 
 before the commencement of hostilities; and 
 being named one of the delegates of the conti- 
 nental congress, he had the principal share in 
 
IIFE or FRANKLIN. ill 
 
 bringing about the revolution and declaration of 
 independence on the part of America. He was 
 sent by Congress to the camp before Boston, to 
 confirm the army in their decisive measures, and 
 to Canada to persuade the citizens to join in 
 the common cause. In this mission, however, 
 he was not successful. He was, in 1776, ap- 
 pointed a committee with John Adams and Ed- 
 ward Rutledge, to inquire into the powers with 
 which lord Howe was invested, in regard to the 
 adjustment of our differences with Great Bri- 
 tain. When his lordship expressed his concern 
 at being obliged to distress those whom he so 
 much regarded. Dr. Franklin assured him that 
 the Americans, out of reciprocal regard, would 
 endeavour to lessen, as much as possible, the pain 
 which he might feel on their account, by taking 
 the utmost care of themselves. Dr. Franklin 
 was decidedly in favour of a declaration of inde- 
 pendence, and was appointed president of the 
 convention assembled for the purpose of esta- 
 blishing a new government for the state of Penn- 
 sylvania. When it was determined by Congress 
 to open a public negotiation with France, Dr. 
 Franklin was fixed upon to go to that country, 
 and he brought about the treaty of alliance of- 
 fensive and defensive, which produced an imme- 
 diate war between England and France. Dr. 
 Franklin was one of the commissioners who, on 
 the part of the United States, signed the provi- 
 sional articles of peace in 1 782, and the defini- 
 tive treaty in the following year. Before he left 
 Europe, he concluded a treaty with Sweden and 
 
112 jLIFE OF FRANKXfJS-. 
 
 Prussia. By the latter he obtained several most 
 liberal and humane stipulations in favour of the 
 freedom of commerce, and the security of pri- 
 vate property during wai", in conformity to those 
 principles which he had ever maintained on 
 these subjects. Having seen the accomplish- 
 ment of his wishes in the independence of his 
 country, he requested to be recalled, and, after 
 repeated solicitations, Mr. Jetferson was appoint- 
 ed in his stead. On the arrival of his successor, 
 he repaired to Havre de Grace, and crossing 
 the English channel, landed at Newport in the 
 Isle of Wight; from whence, after a favourable 
 passage, he arrived safe at Philadelphia, in Sep- 
 tember, 1785. Here he was received amidst 
 the acclamations of a vast and almost innume- 
 rable multitude, who had flocked from all parts 
 to see him, and who conducted him in triumph 
 to his own house, where in a few days he was 
 visited by the members of Congress, and the 
 principal inhabitants of Philadelphia. He was 
 soon appointed president of the supreme execu- 
 tive council, and, in 1787, he was a delegate to 
 the grand convention which formed the consti- 
 tution of the United States. Some of the arti- 
 cles which composed it did not altogether please 
 him, but for the sake of union he signed it. In 
 the same year he was appointed the first presi- 
 dent of two excellent societies, which were es- 
 tablished in Philadelphia, for alleviating the mi- 
 series of public prisons, and for promoting the 
 abolition of slavery. 
 
 In the year; 1788 the increasing infirmities of 
 
XIPE OF FBANKLIN. 1 1 5 
 
 lis age obliged him to ask and obtain permission 
 
 retire and spend the remainder of hfe in tran- 
 [uillity; and on the seventeenth of April, 1790, 
 le closed, in serenity and resignation, his active 
 md useful life, having attained the great age of 
 iighty-four years and three months. The fol- 
 Qvving epitaph* was written by himself many 
 ears previous to his death. 
 
 The body of 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, PRINTER, 
 
 like the cover of an old book, 
 
 its contents torn out, 
 
 and stript of its lettering and gilding, 
 
 lies here, food for worms; 
 
 Yet the work itself shall not be lost, 
 
 for it will (as he believed) appear once more 
 
 in a new 
 
 and more beautiful edition, 
 
 corrected and amended 
 
 by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 * It is probable that Dr. Franklin obtained the idea of 
 rts famous epitaph on himself, from one on the Rev. John 
 otten, an early and distinguished minister of the gospel 
 
 1 New England, wlio died Dec. 23d, 1652. His epitaph, 
 f the Rev. Benjamin Woodbridge, contains the following 
 nes: 
 
 A living, breathing bible; tables where 
 Both covenants at large engraven were; 
 Gospel and law in 's heart had each column-,, 
 His head an index to the sacred volume; 
 His very name a title page; and next 
 His life a commentary on the text. 
 O, what a monument of glorious worth, 
 "When in a new edition he comes forth ! 
 Without errata may we think he'll be 
 In leaves and covers of eternity ! 
 k2 
 
],14 lilFE OF TRANKLIN. 
 
 Dr. Franklin was author of many tracts on 
 electricity, and other branches of natural philo- 
 sophy, as well as on political and miscellaneous . 
 subjects. Many of his papers are inserted in 
 the Philosophical Transactions of London ; and 
 his Essays have been frequently reprinted in 
 this country as well as in England, and have, in 
 common with his other works, been translated 
 into several modern languages. 
 
 The life of Dr. Franklin affords a striking 
 proof of the influence in society of a sound un- 
 derstanding, united with steady industry, and 
 supported by candid integrity, and presents a 
 useful lesson to all young persons of unsteady 
 principles and showy accomphshments. His 
 writings and discoveries also, on so many sub- 
 jects of practical utility, produced, without any 
 advantages of regular education, or literary so- 
 ciety, forcibly illustrate how far a vigorous and 
 well directed mind may carry its possessor, with- 
 out the minutiae of learning and the theories of 
 science. He has distinguished himself in va- 
 rious departments of knowledge, in natural phi- 
 losophy, in political economy, in general litera- 
 ture, and in practical morality. His physical 
 speculations were almost uniformly suggested 
 by views of utility, and were distinguished by 
 the unparalleled facility with which he conducts 
 his reader from one step of the inquiry to ano- 
 ther, without even seeming to be at any loss, or 
 to exert any labour in the process. His political 
 writings were directed too much to temporary 
 questions to be permanently interesting; but his 
 
liFH OF FEANKllxV. IIJ 
 
 pamphlet on Canada, and his papers on the "Al- 
 bany Plan of Union," have been recommended 
 as valuable models of strong reasoning and po- 
 pular eloquence. On the general doctrines of 
 the principle of population, and the freedom of 
 commerce, and the practical points of the corn 
 trade, and the theory of money, his sentiments 
 are considered as correct and clear; but on the 
 more abstract subjects of the value of manufac- 
 •tures, and the effects of paper currency, he is 
 thought to be inaccurate and superficial, not so 
 much from any flaw in his deductions, as from 
 the insufficiency of his data. On subjects of 
 morality, especially on those virtues which apply 
 to the great body of mankind, his compositions 
 are admirably adapted to accomplish their ob- 
 ject, by their clearness, their soundness, their 
 kindliness, their concise expression and pointed 
 illustration. Tn respect of literary qualities his 
 style is often deficient in elegance, sometimes 
 both puerile and vulgar; but always distinguish- 
 ed by simpHcity of language and perspicuity of 
 statement. He has been called the most rational 
 of all philosophers, never losing sight of common 
 sense in any of his speculations, or yielding up 
 his understanding either to enthusiasm or au- 
 thority. 
 
 In his personal and moral character. Dr. 
 Franklin was distinguished by industry and ap- 
 plication to whatever he undertook, by the most 
 active observation of whatever was passing 
 around him, by acuteness and penetration in all 
 his intercourse with men, or inquiries after 
 
116 XIFE OF^RANKtlN. 
 
 truth. He was modest and unassuming in pi'o- 
 posing his sentiments, communicating even his 
 greatest discoveries only as queries or conjec- 
 tures; yet uniformly cheerful and playful in con- 
 versation, enlivening every topic with entertain- 
 ing anecdotes and harmless pleasantries. He 
 was actively benevolent, and invariably upright; 
 and tliough in the early part of his life sceptical 
 in religion, yet he became, in maturer years, 
 more friendly to devout sentiments, and, con- 
 trary to the general opinion, is affirmed by his 
 intimate friend. Dr. William Smith, to have been 
 a believer in divine revelation. The humble 
 piety, at least, of the following acknowledgment 
 in his Memoirs, written by himself, cannot be 
 doubted, and is worthy of being recorded:— 
 ^'And here let me with all humility acknowledge, 
 that to Divine Providence I am indebted for 
 the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed. It is that 
 power alone which has furnished me with the 
 means I have employed, and that has crowned 
 tliem with success. My faith in this respect 
 leads me to hope, though I cannot count upon 
 it, that the divine goodness will still be exercised 
 towards me, either by prolonging the duration 
 of my happiness to the close of life, or by giving 
 me fortitude to support any melancholy reverse 
 which may happen to me as to many others. 
 My future fortune is unknown but to Him, in 
 whose hand is our destiny, and who can make 
 our very afflictions subservient to our benefit." 
 He left behind him one son, governor Wil- 
 liam Franklin of New Jersey, a zealous royalist. 
 
JAFE OF HA?ftOCK. 11* 
 
 and a daughter, who married Mr. William 
 Bache, merchant in Philadelphia. 
 
 HANCOCK. 
 
 John Hancock, L. L. D. governor of Mas- 
 sachusetts, was the son of the reverend Mr. 
 Hancock, of Braintree, and was born about the 
 year 1737. He was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege in 175i. On the death of his uncle, Tho- 
 mas Hancock, esquire, he received a very con- 
 siderable fortune, and soon became an eminent 
 merchant. In 1766 he was chosen a member 
 of the house of representatives for Boston, with 
 James Otis, Thomas Gushing, and Samuel 
 Adams. The seizure of his sloop Liberty, in 
 1768, for evading the laws of trade, occasioned 
 a riot, and several of the commissioners of the 
 customs narrowly escaped with their lives. As 
 the controversy with Great Britain assumed a 
 more serious shape, and affairs were hastening 
 to a crisis, Mr. Hancock evinced his attachment 
 to the rights of his countiy. He was president 
 of the Provincial Congress in 1774. On the 
 twelfth of June of the following year, general 
 Gage issued his proclamation, oflfering pardon 
 to all the rebels, excepting Samuel Adams and 
 Jolin Hancock, " whose offences," it is declared, 
 " are of too flagitious a nature to admit of any 
 other consideration, than that of condign punish- 
 ment." Mr. Hancock was at this time a mem- 
 ber of the Continental Congress, of which he 
 
118 LIFE OF HANCOCK. 
 
 was chosen president on the twenty-fourth of 
 May, in the place of Peyton Randolph, who was 
 under the necessity of leturning home. In this 
 office, as the head of the illustrious Congress of 
 1776, he signed the declaration of independence. 
 In consequence of the ill state of his iiealth, he 
 took his leave of Congress in Octoher, 1777, and 
 received tlieir thanks for his unremitted atten- 
 tion and steady impartiality, in discharging the 
 duties of his office. Henry Laurens was his 
 successor. 
 
 On the adoption of the present constitution of 
 Massachusetts, he was chosen the first governor 
 in October, 1780, and was annually re-elected 
 and continued in that office till February, 1785, 
 when he resigned. In 1 787, he was again chosen 
 in the place of Mr. Bowdoin, and remained in 
 the chair till his death, October 8th, 1793, aged 
 fifty-six years. His administration was very 
 popular. It was apprehended by some, that on 
 his accession the dignity of government would 
 not be sufficiently maintained; but his language, 
 on assuming the chair, was manly and decisive, 
 and by his moderation and lenity, the civil con- 
 vulsion was completely quieted, without the 
 shedding of blood, by the hand of the civil ma- 
 gistrate. Fourteen persons, who received sen- 
 tence of death, were pardoned. In his public 
 speeches to the legislature, he acquitted himself 
 with a degree of popular eloquence, which is 
 seldom equalled. In one of his last acts as go- 
 vernor, he supported, in a dignified manner, the 
 sovereignty of the individual states. By a pro- 
 
LIFE OF HANCOCK. 119 
 
 cess commenced against Massachusetts in favour 
 of William Vassal, esquire, he was summoned by 
 a writ to answer to the prosecution in the court 
 of the United Slates. But he declined the 
 smallest concession, which might lessen the in- 
 dependence of the state, whose interests were 
 entrusted to his care, and he supported his 
 opinion with firmness and dignity. Litigations 
 of this nature were soon afterwards precluded 
 by an amendment to the constitution of the 
 United States. 
 
 Mr. Hancock is represented as not favoured 
 with extraordinary powers of mind, and as not 
 honouring the sciences very much by his per- 
 sonal attentions. But he was easy in his address, 
 polished in manners, affable, and liberal; and 
 as president of Congress he exhibited a dignity, 
 impartiality, quickness of conception, and con- 
 stant attention to business, which secured him 
 respect. As the chairman of a deliberative 
 body, few could preside with such reputation. 
 In the early periods of his public career, it has 
 been said, that he was somewhat inconstant in his 
 attachment to the cause of his country. Though 
 this representation should be true, yet, from the 
 commencement of the war, the part which he 
 took was decided and uniform, and his patriotic 
 exertions are worthy of honourable remem- 
 brance. By the suavity of his manners, and his 
 insinuating address, he secured an almost un- 
 equalled popularity. He could speak with ease 
 and propriety on every subject. Being consider- 
 ed as a republican in principle, and a fii-m sup- 
 
120 nFE OF RITTBNHOUSE. 
 
 porter of the cause of freedom, whenever he 
 consented to be a candidate for governor, he was 
 chosen to that office by an undisputed majority. 
 In piivate hfe he was charitable and generous. 
 With a large fortune, he had also a disposition 
 to employ it for useful and benevolent purposes. 
 The poor shared liberally in his bounty. He 
 was also a generous benefactor of Harvard Col- 
 lege. He published an oration which he deliver- 
 ed on the Boston Massacre, 1774. 
 
 IIITTENHOUSE. 
 
 David Rittenhouse, L.L.D. F.RS. the ce- 
 lebrated American philosopher, was descended 
 from ancestors, who emigrated from Holland 
 about the beginning of the last century. He was 
 born on the 8th day of April, 173:2, near Ger- 
 mantown, in Pennsylvania, about eight miles 
 from Philadelphia. His father, Matthias Ritten- 
 house, was a native of the same place; and 
 brought up in the occupation of a papermaker, 
 in which he continued until the age of twenty- 
 nine, when he moved to Norriton, now Montgo- 
 mery county, and became a farmer. His mother, 
 Elizabeth, was the daughter of Evan Williams, 
 a native of Wales; a woman of good natural un- 
 derstanding, but without the advantages of edi^- 
 cation. His parents were distinguished for their 
 probity, industry, and simple manners. 
 
 It is fj-om sources, thus pure and retired, 
 that those talents and virtues have been chiefly 
 
LIFJG OF KIITEMIOL'SE. Isil 
 
 derived, wliich have in all a,i>es enlightened the 
 world. They prove by their humble origin, that 
 the Supreme Being has not surrendered up the 
 direction of human alfairs to the advantages ac- 
 quired by accident or injustice, and they bear a 
 constant and faithful testimony of his impartial 
 goodness, by their necessary and regular indu- 
 ence in equalizing tlie condition of mankind. 
 
 The first indications of that genius which dis- 
 tinguished David Ritten house in the world, were 
 manifested at the age of seven, in the construc- 
 tion of a water mill in miniature. He was de- 
 signed by his father for the pursuits of a farmer; 
 and from his infancy was engaged in husbandry. 
 At the age of fourteen, he was a labourer, and 
 employed in ploughing his fatlier's fields. At 
 this period he more fully developed the peculiar 
 bent of his mind. The evidences of an uncom- 
 mon intellect were exhibited in a variety of nu- 
 merical figures and mathematical diagrams, 
 chalked upon the fences, and even on the plough 
 with which he worked. Continuing in the ordi- 
 nary occupation of a husbandman, nothing fur- 
 ther occurred to illustrate his future greatness, 
 until he was seventeen years old. He then con- 
 structed a wooden clock of ingenious mechanism; 
 and shortly afterwards, from materials usually 
 employed in such instruments, and upon com- 
 mon principles, he made a twenty-four-hour 
 clock. These machines afforded certainly very 
 unequivocal proofs that their fabricator was no 
 common man. 
 
 His father, not being a man of more than com- 
 
 L 
 
122 LIFE OF RITTESUOUSK. 
 
 mon mind, and not much improved by an early 
 education, for some time opposed his son's ear- 
 nest desire to renounce agricultuial employ- 
 ments, for the purpose of devoting himself alto- 
 gether to philosophical studies, in connexion with 
 some mechanical art, that might in the interim 
 yield a subsistence. At length, however, his 
 objections were overcome; and he supplied his 
 son with money to purchase such implements as 
 were necessary to the business of clock making. 
 
 Young Rittenhouse erected on his father's 
 land a commodious shop, and commenced to 
 manufacture clocks and mathematical instru- 
 ments. Such tools, necessary to his business, 
 as he had not purchased, for want of money, 
 he supplied by his own hands. Thenceforward, 
 and until he was twenty-five, he devoted his days 
 to his art, and his nights to philosophical studies. 
 This incessant application shook his constitu- 
 tion. He was seized with a peculiar malady, 
 which he himself described " a constant heat in 
 the pit of his stomach, affecting a space not ex- 
 ceeding the size of a half guinea, and attended 
 at times with much pain." From this sensation 
 he was never exempted for the remainder of 
 his life. To restore his health, he passed seve- 
 ral weeks at the Yellow Springs, distant but a 
 few miles from his father's residence; bathed 
 and drank the waters; and, from the use of this 
 chalybeate, in some measure recruited. 
 
 Until he was nineteen years old, he had enjoy- 
 ed no other opportunities of education than were 
 furnished by common English schools, which 
 
LIFE OF RITTENTIOUSE. 
 
 the neighbourhood of his father afforded, in 
 which nothing beyond reading, writing, and the 
 simplest rules of arithmetic were taught. 
 
 A happy intercourse was then formed between 
 himself and the late Rev. Thomas Barton, who 
 afterwards married his sister, Esther Ritten- 
 house. Mr. Barton, who had enjoyed a good 
 education^ afforded his friend the benefits of in- 
 struction of a higher order, and greatly facilitated 
 his intellectual improvement. 
 
 Some idea may be formed of Mr. Ritten- 
 house's pursuits, from the following extract of a 
 letter to his friend, Mr. Barton, written when he 
 was about the age of twenty-four; 20th Septem- 
 ber, 1756. "I have not health for a soldier; 
 and, as I have no expectation of serving my 
 country in that way, I am spending my time in 
 the old manner; I am so taken with optics, that 
 I do not know whether, if the enemy should 
 invade this part of the country, as Archimedes 
 was slain while making geometrical figures on 
 the sand, so I should die making a telescope." 
 It may be just mentioned that the country was 
 then engaged in war, with the French and In- 
 dians. 
 
 During his residence with his father, he made 
 himself master of Sir Isaac Newton's Principia, 
 which he read in Mr. Motte's translation. At 
 the same time he became acquainted with the 
 science of fluxions, of which he, for a while, be- 
 lieved himself author: nor did he learn for some 
 years afterwards, that a controversy had existed 
 between Sir Isaac Newton and the philosopher 
 
124 LIFE OF RITTEMIOUSE. 
 
 Leibnitz, for the honour of that great and use- 
 ful discovery. What a mind was here! Without 
 the ordinary aids of education, he became the 
 rival of two of the greatest mathematicians in 
 Europe, before he reached his four-and-twentieth 
 year. 
 
 The great accuracy, and exquisite workman- 
 ship, displayed in every thing belonging to his 
 profession, that was fashioned by his hands, soon 
 became extensively known; and the knowledge 
 of his mechanical skill, assisted by his reputation 
 as a mathematician and astronomer, procured 
 him the friendship and patronage of some emi- 
 nent characters. The union of almost unbound- 
 ed genius, great acquirements in sublime science, 
 and wonderful abilities in philosophical me- 
 chanism, with an amiable and virtuous charac- 
 ter, excited that celebrity so justly attached to 
 his name. 
 
 In the thirty-second year of his age he was 
 employed to ascertain and fix the boundary be- 
 tween Pennsylvania and Maryland, according to 
 the decree of the lord chancellor of England, 
 directing the specific execution of an agreement 
 between the Penn family and lord Baltimore. 
 This service was performed with great accuracy, 
 and mucli to the satisfaction of his employers. 
 
 Oti the 20th of February, 1766, he married 
 Elenor Colston, daughter of Bernard Colston, a 
 respectable farmer in his neighbourhood, of the 
 society of Friends. On the 17th of November, 
 of the same year, the college of Philadelphia 
 
LIFE OF RITTENHOUSB. 125 
 
 conferred upon him the honorary degree of Mas- 
 ter of Arts. 
 
 In the year 1769, a controversy existing be- 
 tween New York and New Jersey, as to boun- 
 daries, Mr. Rittenhouse was employed to termi- 
 nate the dispute, by ascertaining the hne which 
 =ihould thereafter separate them. He executed 
 the appointment with the greatest skill and lidehty. 
 
 In January, 1769, he was one of a committee 
 appointed by the American Philosophical So- 
 ciety, to observe at three different places, the 
 transit of Venus over the sun's disk, which was 
 expected to happen on the 3d of June follow- 
 ing, in 40 north latitude, and 5 hours west lon- 
 £;itude from Greenwich. As the day approach- 
 ed, when this rare astronomical phenomenon 
 was to manifest itself, public expectation and 
 anxiety were greatly excited. Its importance 
 to astronomy had justly drawn the attention of 
 every civilized nation of the world. Only two 
 transits of Venus over the sun had been observed, 
 prior to the 3d of June, 1769, since the creation 
 of the world; and of these the first was seen but 
 by two persons: yet the transits of Venus alone 
 ifforded the opportunity of settling the p:.rallax 
 of the sun, with sufficient certainty; and these 
 iiappen so seldom, that there cannot be more 
 than two in one century, and in some centuries 
 none at all. Mr. Rittenhouse completed his ar- 
 rangements about the middle of April. The 
 observatory was fixed near his mansion at Nor- 
 riton, on an elevated piece of ground, having a 
 L 2 
 
126 lilFE OF HITTEWHOUSE. 
 
 grand horizontal view, and furnished with suita- 
 ble instruments to assist in making observation. 
 
 The night before the long expected day, was 
 passed by Mr. Rittenhouse, in a solicitude that 
 precluded sleep. Great was his joy, when he 
 beheld the morning sun, and the whole horizon 
 without a cloud. In pensive silence and trem- 
 bling anxiety, he waited for the predicted mo- 
 ment of observation. It came; and brought with 
 it all that had been expected. In Mr. Ritten- 
 house, it excited, in the instant of one of the 
 contacts of the planet with the sun, an emotion 
 of delight so exquisite and powerful that caused 
 him to faint. This will readily be believed by 
 those who have known the extent of that plea- 
 sure which attends the discovery or first percep- 
 tions of truth. 
 
 Mr. Rittenhouse was associated with several 
 gentlemen, appointed to observe the transit of 
 Mercury over the sun on the 9th of November, 
 in the same year. This was likewise done at 
 Norriton. An account of this more common 
 phenomenon, was drawn up, and published, by 
 Dr. Smith. The report contains the following 
 remarks: "The first time that ever Mei-cury 
 was observed on the sun^s disk, was by Gassen- 
 dus, at Paris, on the 28th of October, 1631, O. 
 S. The transit of the 9th of November, 1769, 
 was the fourth in that class; the two interme- 
 diate, each at forty-six years difference, having 
 been observed by Dr. Halley, in 1 677, and 1 723." 
 
 The result of his observations at Norriton, as 
 well as those made under the auspices of the 
 
LIFE OF KITTENHOUSE. 127 
 
 American Philosophical Society, at Philadelphia 
 and Cape Henlopen, with those of the 9lh of 
 November, are detailed in the first volume of its 
 transactions. In all these events, Mr. Ritten- 
 house acted a distinguished part; the report of 
 the proceedings bear ample testimony to his 
 transcendent astronomical abilities; it was re- 
 ceived with great satisfaction by the astronomers 
 of Europe, and contributed much to raise the 
 character of our tiien infant country for astrono- 
 mical knowledge. 
 
 Some time in 1767, Mr. Rittenhouse project- 
 ed a planetarium, or orrery, which he completed 
 in the course of a few years. This machine 
 raised his reputation as a mechanic, mathema- 
 tician, and astronomer, to the highest grade. In 
 the execution of it he was no copyist. He 
 fashioned it entirely after his own astronomical 
 theory. Mr. Jefferson, in his Notes on Vir- 
 ginia, remarks, that this model of the planetary 
 system has a " plagiary appellation." This is 
 strictly true. The machine itself is as original 
 as it is grand; by it he represented the revolu- 
 tions of the heavenly bodies, in a manner more 
 extensive and complete, than had ever been done 
 by any former astronomers. 
 
 Such were the amplitude of his mind, and the 
 extent of his ideas, that in his retired situation, 
 and while employed in working at his trade, he 
 resolved and matured the mighty plan, upon 
 which this machine is constructed, before it was 
 executed. A correct description of this orrery, 
 drawn up by Dr. Smith, is published in the first 
 
128 LIFE OF RITTENHOITSE. 
 
 volume of the Transactions of the Philosophical 
 Society. This beautiful and interesting piece 
 of mechanism was disposed of to the college of 
 New Jersey. 
 
 In the year 1770, he executed another, after 
 the same model, for the college of Philadelphia. 
 This was completed in less than ten months 
 from its commencement. It now forms part of 
 the philosophical apparatus of the University of 
 Pennsylvania, where it has for many years com- 
 manded the admiration of the ingenious and 
 learned, from every part of the world. 
 
 This invention attracted very general atten- 
 tion among the learned and ingenious. The 
 legislature of Pennsylvania bore honourable 
 testimony to the merits of Mr. Rittenhouse. 
 Under date of the 8th of March, 1771, on the 
 journal of the house, the following proceedings 
 are found: 
 
 " The members of assembly, having viewed 
 the orrery constructed by Mr. David Ritten- 
 house, a native of this province, and being of 
 opinion, that it greatly exceeds all others hi- 
 therto constructexl, in demonstrating the true 
 situation of the celestial bodies, motions, dis- 
 tances, periods, eclipses, and order, upon the 
 principles of the Newtonian system: 
 
 " Resolved, That the sum of three hundred 
 pounds be given to Mr. Rittenhouse, as a testi- 
 mony of the high sense which this house enter- 
 tains of his mechanical abilities in constructing 
 the said orrery.'' 
 
 A certificate for the said sum, being drawn 
 
LIFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 129 
 
 at the table, was signed by the speaker; and a 
 committee was appointed to agree with, and 
 purchase from, Mr. Ilittenhouse, a new orrery, 
 for the use of the pubhc, at any sum not exceed- 
 ing four hundred pounds, lawful money of the 
 province. 
 
 In 1770, he removed with his family from 
 Norriton, and fixed his residence in the city of 
 Philadelphia. Shortly afterwards, he had the 
 misfortune to lose his wife. This afflicting 
 providence, for some time, overpowered the 
 philosopher with gloominess. Mrs. Rittenhouse 
 left him in the charge of two young children. 
 He vented his melancholy feelings, on this occa- 
 sion, in the following pathetic words: — "but 
 now, neither money nor reputation has any 
 charms.^' 
 
 The comet which appeared in July, 1770, 
 engaged his attention for several days. His 
 observations on it, with the elements of its mo- 
 tion, and the trajectory of its path, were commu- 
 nicated to the American Philosophical Society; 
 and were published in the first volume of its 
 transactions. It is worthy of remark, that a 
 comparison of his observations with those of M. 
 Messeir, in France, and Mv. Six, in England, 
 on the same comet, confirmed his theory. 
 
 In January, 1771, Mr. Rittenhouse was elect- 
 ed one of the secretaries of the American Philo- 
 sophical Society. The distinguished services 
 rendered by this society, to the cause of science, 
 had now attracted the respectful notice of the 
 legislature; and about this time a laudable inter- 
 
ISO ilFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 
 
 change of civilities between them was com- 
 menced. In those days, the characters and at- 
 tainments of the members of the society, and of 
 the assembly, commanded mutual respect. 
 
 From the year 1771, the affairs of the then 
 colonies, were of a nature to exclude science 
 from the attention of even the philosophic and 
 learned. All men became engaged in politics. 
 Legislation, and the military art, took posses- 
 sion of the taste of the whole population. The 
 interests of literature were neglected. 
 
 Until the year 1775, Mr. Rittenhouse was very 
 much in retirement; though he was not disen- 
 gaged from anxiety for the public weal. He 
 was too enlightened and patriotic not to be keen- 
 ly sensible of the delicate as well as the alarm- 
 ing situation of his country: but nature had fit- 
 ted him more for the pursuits of science than 
 the bustle of an official station. 
 
 Before the commencement of the American 
 revolutionary war, he was engaged jointly with 
 a commissioner of New York, to ascertain and 
 define the boundary between Pennsylvania and 
 New York. This was not completed till after 
 the termination of the war. 
 
 In the year 1 775, he was elected to the Con- 
 tinental Congress, as a representative of Phila- 
 delphia; and took his seat in that body on the 
 fifth of March. He was justly considered a 
 prudent and able member, though little accus- 
 tomed to occupy the floor as a speaker. He did 
 not possess that description of talents, which 
 often enable one of moderate abilities to make 
 
LIFE OF RITTKMIOUSE. l.U 
 
 a prominent figure in popular assemblies: but 
 his perception was quick; in deliberative powers 
 he excelled; and his calculating faculties were 
 most accurate. Insuperable native dilFidence, 
 pursuits precluding opportunities of public speali- 
 ing, and the peculiar structure of his mind, dis- 
 qualified him as an orator. 
 
 In the memorable year, 1776, Mr. Ritten- 
 house was appointed a member of the board 
 constituting the council of safety for the state of 
 Pennsylvania. In the same year he was also a 
 member of that convention in Philadelphia, which 
 formed the first constitution for the state. On 
 the meeting of the first legislature under the 
 constitution in October, he was unanimously 
 appointed the state treasurer, which office he 
 continued to fill for twelve years, when he re- 
 signed. 
 
 In consequence of a territorial dispute between 
 Pennsylvania and Virginia, he was appointed by 
 the legislature of the former, in 1779, one of 
 three commissioners to settle the controversy. 
 After meeting with the commissioners on the 
 part of Virginia, a convention was framed in 
 which the line, to divide the two states, was de- 
 signated; and this convention was subsequently 
 ratified by the proper authority. Notwithstand- 
 ing this adjustment, the controversy again arose, 
 which was suspended during the war on the 
 recommendation of Congress, whose principal 
 object in the mediation, was to preserve peace 
 and harmony among all the states while the war 
 for their common independence raged. In 1 784^ 
 
132 LIVE OF RlTTEIfHOrSi;. 
 
 the boundary was again ascertained by commis- 
 sioners from botli the states. Of those fiom 
 Pennsylvania, Mr. Rittenhouse was one; and to 
 his talents, moderation, and firmness, was as- 
 cribed, in a great degree, the satisfactory termi- 
 nation of that once alarming controversy. 
 
 In 1780, Mr. Rittenhouse was elected by the 
 general assembly of Pennsylvania a trustee to 
 the loan office. This institution was originally 
 founded for the purjDoses of augmenting the cir- 
 culating medium; and administered by the trus- 
 tees according to authority from the legislature, 
 for forty years, performed all the services of/ 
 banking institutions. It was always simple in 
 its operations, and issued bills on land security, 
 with a given interest, to such persons as needed 
 pecuniary assistance. After the adoption of the 
 constitution of the United States, this institution 
 went down, and banks were substituted. 
 
 In 1 782, Mr. Rittenhouse was elected a fel- 
 low of the Academy of Arts and Sciences, of 
 Boston. In 1784, the college of William and 
 Mary, in Virginia, comphmented him with the 
 honorary degree of Master of Arts. In the di- 
 ploma, which is special in its terms, he is styled 
 by the rectors and faculty of the institution, " the 
 chief of philosophers."' In the year 1789, he 
 i*eceived the degree of Doctor of Laws from the 
 college of New Jersey. In January, 1790, he 
 was elected one of the vice presidents of the 
 American Philosophical Society; and, in 1791, 
 he succeeded the venerable Franklin to the pre- 
 sidency of that institution. In 1 795, Dr. Ritten- 
 
LIFE OF RITTEXHOUSE. 133 
 
 house was elected a fellow of the Royal Society 
 of London. This society has dealt the honour 
 of fellowship with a sparing hand, especially to 
 foreigners Of Americans, Dr. Franklin, Dr. 
 Johnson, Dr. Morgan, and the late Mr. Bartram, 
 were fellows before the revolutionary war; but 
 since that event not more than two or three, of 
 whom Dr. Rittenhouse was one, have been ad- 
 mitted to the honour of fellowship. 
 
 It has been seen that Dr. Rittenhouse was fre- 
 quently employed in ascertaining the boundaries 
 and adjusting territorial differences between se- 
 veral of the colonies, now states. These engage- 
 ments were all completed, or put in the way of 
 being completed, in such a manner as to excite 
 at once great respect for his talents and integrity. 
 
 The last occasion of this kind, on which he 
 was employed, was on the appointment of Con- 
 gress, in December, 1785, to ron a line of juris- 
 diction between the states of Massachusetts and 
 New York. This duty he performed in 1 787, and 
 was executed with his usual precision and inte- 
 grity. It was his farewell peace offering to the 
 union and happiness of his country. Some time 
 previously he was engaged with certain Virginia 
 commissioners in running the western boundary 
 of Pennsylvania. This service is merely intro- 
 duced for the sake of exhibiting a small speci- 
 men of the philosopher's conjugal correspond- 
 ence. The following extract is of a letter to his 
 wife, for he was again married, written in the 
 wilderness: "I ever delighted in a wild unculti- 
 vated country. This is truly romantic at this 
 
 M 
 
134 IIFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 
 
 season of the year, June 30th, 1785, beautiful 
 and hixuriant in the highest degree. A few 
 days ago, I walked up a Httle rivulet, in company 
 with Mr. E. a considerable distance, to enjoy the 
 romantic scene. It was bounded on each side 
 by steep hills of an immense height; its bottom 
 was finely paved with large flag stones, rising in 
 steps, with every here and there a beautiful cas- 
 cade. The further we proceeded, the more 
 shady and cool we found it. At last I proposed 
 to Mr. E. that we should proceed no further, 
 lest we should find some of the water goddesses, 
 perhaps, stark naked and asleep. Mr. A. went 
 with us for company sake; but neither the 
 nymphs, nor their shady bowers, have any charms 
 for him. Nothing but your presence was want- 
 ing to me to heighten the enchanting scene. 
 
 " Deer are incredibly plenty in those regions. 
 I was the first among us, who caught a young 
 fawn, and hoped to have sent the beautiful little 
 animal, a present, to H. We kept it about a 
 week, and it became quite tame; but our cows 
 ran away, and it starved for want of milk. 
 
 " I would write to B. and H., but you will not 
 readily imagine how little leisure I have. Tired 
 of the exercises of the day, I rejoice at the ap- 
 proach of night; and, after a cup of tea, gene- 
 rally lie down to rest as soon as it is dark, unless 
 we have observations to make; and then we have 
 generally half a mile to walk through dark woods, 
 from the place of observation to the encampment. 
 This, however, does not happen above ouce in a 
 fortnight. 
 
J.IFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 135 
 
 " Sun hasten down the western skies, 
 "Go quick to bed, and quickly rise," 
 
 Until you bring round the happy day, that will 
 restore me again to the dear woman and chil- 
 dren I so much love." 
 
 The talents and knowledge of Dr. Rittenhouse 
 were not limited to mathematical or material 
 objects, his mind was a repository of the know- 
 ledge of all ages and countries: he had early and 
 deeply studied most of the different systems of 
 theology. He was well acquainted with prac- 
 tical metaphysics. In reading travels he took 
 great delight. From them he drew a large fund 
 of his knowledge of the natural history of the 
 globe. He possessed talents for music and 
 poetry; but the more serious and necessary pui"^ 
 suits of his life prevented his devoting much 
 time to the cultivation of them. He read the 
 English poets with great pleasure. The muse 
 of Thomson charmed him most. He admired 
 his elegant combinations of philosophy and poe- 
 try. However opposed these studies may ap- 
 pear, they alike derive their perfection from 
 extensive and accurate observations of the works 
 of nature. He was intimately acquainted with 
 the French, German and Dutch languages, the 
 two former of which he acquired without the 
 assistance of a teacher. They served the valu- 
 able purpose of conveying to him the discoveries 
 of foreign nations, and, thereby, enabled him to 
 prosecute his studies with more advantage in his 
 native language. 
 
 The study of astronomy was the favourite 
 
136 IIFE OF felTtEKttOUSlS. 
 
 pursuit of Dr. Rittenhouse. Though not aided 
 by the munificence of princes, in the purchase of 
 such instruments as were used by the celebrated 
 Mayer and Herschel, and, by the use of which 
 alone they were enabled in one sense to anticipate 
 him, yet so extensively did he make himself ac- 
 quainted with the heavenly bodies and the laws 
 which govern their motions, that he predicted 
 almost every thing which has been discovered 
 by them or any other astronomers. The dis- 
 coveries of Dr. Herschel, among the fixed stars, 
 in addition to those made by Mr. Mayer, in a 
 great degree only realized the expectations 
 which were expressed many years before by 
 Dr. Rittenhouse. Indeed his annunciations 
 were almost prescient, respecting that portion 
 of the heavens, which should, at some time, be 
 the scene of the most important astronomical 
 discoveries. 
 
 According to Dr. Herschel, the milky way is 
 an immense nebula, near one of the sides of 
 which is placed the solar system; and he ima- 
 gined, that each nebula, of which he had ob- 
 served more than nine hundred, consists of a 
 group of suns, with their attendant planets! Dr. 
 Rittenhouse never had the advantage of using 
 such stupendous and costly telescopes, as those 
 used by his great rival Herschel to explore the 
 heavens; but his vast intellectual perception 
 seems to have penetrated through space, and 
 contemplated those sublime phenomena, vyhich 
 -^.ctually exist beyond the power of our vision. 
 
LIFE OP RlTTENHOrSE. 1 37 
 
 Herschel, with all his advantages, was enabled 
 only to testify the anticipations of Rittenhouse. 
 
 The American philosopher in language almost 
 prophetic, and dictated by the most exalted per- 
 ceptions of the grandeur of celestial objects, yet 
 undiscovered, in his celebrated oration before 
 the Philosophical Society, observed, that, " all 
 yonder stars innumerable, with their dependen- 
 cies, may, perhaps, compose but the leaf of a 
 flower in the Creator's garden, or a single pillar 
 in the immense buildings of the divine archi- 
 tect." Those expectations which occupied the 
 mind of Rittenhouse, as early as the year 1775, 
 of the amazing discoveries to be made among 
 the fixed stars, were not mere conjectures or 
 vague hypotheses; but were rational anticipa- 
 tions of realities founded on the most accurate 
 observations, and most laborious researches, as 
 well as the profoundest philosophical judgment. 
 As Newton revealed those truths in physics, 
 which his predecessor Bacon, preconceived; so 
 that great practical astronomer, Herschel, by 
 means of the most improved instruments, verified 
 the grand hypotheses in astronomy, which had 
 long before been conceived by the towering ge- 
 nius of Rittenhouse. 
 
 In the latter years of his life, Dr. Rittenhouse 
 Idled various public stations of a civil nature, in 
 ivhich he ably discharged the duties required of 
 liim. He was the first director of the United 
 States Mint, established under the administra- 
 ion of president Washington; a trustee of the 
 University of Pennsylvania; and a member of 
 M 2 
 
138 LIFE OF RITTliXHOUSE. 
 
 different incorporated associations to promote in- 
 terna] improvements: In all of which, he was 
 a good officer and an extensively useful citizen. 
 
 In reply to the preposterous assertion of the 
 Abbe Raynal, " that America had not produced 
 one able mathematician, one man of genius in a 
 single art or a single science," Mr. Jefferson, late 
 president of the tFnited States, retorted the fol- 
 lowing emphatical contradiction, which presents 
 Dr. Rittenhouse's pretensions in an unequivocal 
 and satisfactory view: "- In war we produced a 
 Washington, whose memory will be adored, 
 while liberty shall have votaries; whose name 
 will triumph over time; and will in future ages 
 assume its first station among the most cele- 
 brated worthies of the world; when that wretch- 
 ed philosophy, which would have arranged him 
 among the degeneracies of nature, shall be for- 
 gotten. In physics, we have produced a Franklin, 
 than whom no one of the present age has made 
 more important discoveries, nor has enriched 
 philosophy more, and given more ingenious so- 
 lutions of the phenomena of nature. We have 
 supposed Rittenhouse second to no astronomer 
 living; that in genius he must be the first, be- 
 cause he is self taught. As an artist, he has 
 exhibited as great proofs of mechanical genius 
 as the world has ever produced. He has not 
 indeed made a world; but by imitation, he has 
 approached nearer its Maker than any other man 
 who has lived from the creation to this day." 
 
 The citizens of the United States were not 
 insensible of the merits of Dr. Rittenhouse. In- 
 
LIFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 1 .>9 
 
 ventions and improvements in every art and sci- 
 ence were frequently submitted to his examina- 
 tion, and afterwards were patronized by the pub- 
 lic, according as they were approved of by him. 
 Wherever he went, he met with pubhc respect 
 and private attentions. But his reputation was 
 not confined to his native country-. His name 
 was known and admired in every region of the 
 earth, where science and genius are cultivated 
 and respected. In the limited circles of private 
 life he commanded esteem and affection. As a 
 neighbour he was kind and charitable. His 
 sympathy extended in a certain degree to dis- 
 tress of every kind, but it was excited with the 
 most force, and the kindest effects to the weak- 
 ness, pain and poverty of old age. As a friend 
 he was sincere, ardent and disinterested. As a 
 companion, he instructed upon all subjects. 
 Those who enjoyed his company, might always 
 learn something from his conversation, which 
 was indicative of his mild disposition and the 
 greatness of his understanding. 
 
 The source of his virtues, whether of a public 
 or private nature, was his exalted conceptions of 
 the Deity, together with his decided belief of the 
 immortality of the soul. His religion was not 
 derived wholly from his knowledge and admira- 
 tion of the material world — he believed in the 
 Christian revelation. Of this he gave many 
 proofs, not only in the conformity of his life to 
 the precepts of the gospel, but in his letters and 
 conversation. In his speaking of the truth and 
 excellency of the Christian religion, he mention- 
 
140 IIFE OF RITTEiVIIOUSE. 
 
 ed, as an evidence of its divine origin, that the 
 miracles of our Saviour differed from all other 
 miracles, in being entirely of a kind and benevo- 
 lent nature. Dr. Rush says, " It is no small 
 triumph to the friends of revelation to observe, 
 in this age of infidelity, that our religion has been 
 admitted, and even defended, by men of the 
 most exalted understanding, and of the strongest 
 reasoning powers. The single testimony of Dr. 
 Rittenhouse in its favour, outweighs the decla- 
 mations of whole nations against it." 
 
 As the natural effect of his belief in the rela- 
 tion of the whole human race to each other, in 
 a common Father and Redeemer, he embraced 
 the whole family of mankind in the arms of his 
 benevolence. But the philanthropy of Dr. Rit- 
 tenhouse did not consist simply in wishes for 
 the happiness of mankind. He reduced this 
 divine principle to practice, by a series of faith- 
 ful and disinterested services to that part of his 
 fellow creatures, to which the usefulness of 
 good men is chiefly exerted. His country — his 
 beloved country, was the object of the strongest 
 affections of his heart. For her he thought — 
 for her he laboured — and for her, in the hours 
 of her difficulties and dangers, he wept in every 
 stage of the revolution. 
 
 The year of the declaration of independence, 
 which changed our royal governments into re- 
 publics, produced no change in his pohtical 
 tenets, for he had been educated in the princi- 
 ples of republicanism by his father. 
 
 Dr. Rittenhouse resigned the directorship of 
 
iiiFB or RrrxENHorsBi. 141 
 
 the United States Mint, in June, 1792; after 
 which he retired very much to the pursuits of 
 science, and the tranquilHty of domestic life. 
 The scanty remnant of his days tliat yet remain- 
 ed, were spent in the dignity of a great philoso- 
 pher, and a good man. From the society of his 
 family and friends, he derived much comfort in his 
 intervals of respite from sickness and pain. He 
 was fully sensible of the approaching crisis of the 
 disease, which took him in his youth, and finally 
 hore him to the grave; and he was quite pre- 
 pared to meet the awful summons, with the 
 fortitude which a retrospect of a well spent life 
 was calculated to inspire, and with the resigna- 
 tion, which an entire confidence in the good- 
 ness, wisdom, and mercy of God, tauglit him to 
 be his duty. His demeanour on his death bed 
 was consonant with the temper he bed shown in 
 every situation in which he was placed by Pro- 
 vidence. He was calm, and above the fears of 
 death. It was observed by Mr. Mallet, in the 
 Ufe of lord Bacon, that nothing can awaken the 
 attention, nothing affect the heart of man, more 
 strongly, than the deportment of eminent per- 
 sonages in their dying moments; in that only 
 scene of life, when all are sure, sooner or later, 
 to resemble them. Here then is a report of the 
 last scene in the life of David Rittenhouse, a 
 man who rose to the first eminence in the world. 
 About the middle of June, 1796, he called 
 for the last time on his nephew, Dr. Benjamin 
 Barton, one of the medical professors, in the 
 University of Pennsylvania, whom he informed 
 
142 IIFE OF RITTENHOtJSE. 
 
 that he had received a diploma of fellow from 
 the Royal Society of London; and, with a tone 
 of voice, and certain expression of countenance, 
 which indicated the apprehension of his ap- 
 proaching dissolution, remarked, " that a few 
 years ago, such a mark of respect from that 
 illustrious body, would have been received by 
 him with pleasure and pride." Dr. Rittenhouse, 
 for some months, had been seriously impressed 
 with the idea, that his career of usefulness and 
 virtue was nearly run. He had, at several 
 times, intimated to professor Barton, who was 
 his physician, his impressions to this effect. 
 
 On the 22d of June, 1796, Dr. Barton was in- 
 vited to visit his illustrious uncle. He found him 
 in his garden, where he loved to walk; and soon 
 learned that he laboured under a severe attack 
 of cholera, accoin[)a:>ieu with considerable frver, 
 and an increase of that violent pain, and sense of 
 oppression, at the region of his stomach, to which 
 he had been subject more than thirty years. On 
 the next day he was again visited by the doctor. 
 He was sensibly worse. Dr. Barton requested 
 permission to call in the aid of another physician; 
 and accordingly Dr. Kuhn associated with him 
 in the visits wl)ich were continued, until the 
 catastrophe precluded the necessity of further 
 medical services. He was bled; and the opera- 
 tion seemed to afford him a temporary relief 
 from his pain. His strength gradually declined; 
 and on the third day of his illness, it became 
 obvious that he was soon to be separated from 
 the world. He expired without a struggle, and 
 
LIFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 143 
 
 in the greatest serenity, ten minutes before two 
 o'clock, on Sunday morning, 26th of June, 1796, 
 in the presence of his youngest daughter, and 
 his nephew, Dr. Barton. Plis excellent wife, 
 who had ever been assiduous in her attentions 
 on her illustrious companion, in sickness and in 
 health, had retired from the chamber about two 
 hours previously, unable to support the awful 
 scene of expiring genius and virtue. 
 
 From the first invasion of his disease, he en- 
 tertained little hopes of recovery. He made his 
 will; and discovered no more solicitude about 
 his situation, than was entirely decorous and 
 proper, in every good and great man. Through- 
 out his illness, he manifested the most happy 
 temperament of mind; and it was only in the 
 last hour of his life, that his powerful intellects 
 were disturbed by a mild delirium. In the af- 
 ternoon before his decease, the pain in his 
 stomach being unusually severe, a poultice, 
 composed of meal and laudanum, was apphed to 
 the part. In less than two hours after the ap- 
 plication, he was asked, if he felt easier.-^ He 
 calmly answered, in the last words he ever dis- 
 tinctly uttered: "Yes; you have made the way 
 to God easier!" 
 
 It has, sometimes, of late years, been said of 
 persons, who had been distinguished in life, 
 when they left the world in a state of indiffer- 
 ence to every thing, and believing and hoping in 
 nothing, that they died like philosophers. How 
 very different was the latter end of Dr. Ritten- 
 house! That he was the first of philosophers, no 
 
144 LIFE Of RITTENHCrSE. 
 
 one will deny; but he died like a Christian — in- 
 terested in the welfare of all around him — be- 
 lieving in a life to come, and hoping for happi- 
 ness from every attribute of the Deity. 
 
 The remains of Rittenhouse were deposited 
 beneath the pavement w ithin the observatory in 
 his own garden. Over his body was laid a slab 
 of marble, inscribed simply with his name, the 
 time of his decease, and his age. A numerous 
 concourse of his surviving friends voluntarily at- 
 tended his funeral. The Rev. Dr. Green, de- 
 livered a very appropriate address at the grave. 
 " This," said he, pointing to the repository of 
 the philosopher, " is the tomb of genius and of 
 science. Tlieir child, their martyr, is here de- 
 posited; and tears will speak the eulogy of his 
 friends. I stand not here to pronounce it. The 
 thought that engrosses my mind is — how much 
 more clear and impressive must be the views, 
 which the late spiritual inhabitant of that life- 
 less corpse now possesses of God; of his infinite 
 existence; of his adorable attributes; and of that 
 eternal blaze of glory which emanates from him; 
 than when it was blinded by a veil of flesh! ac- 
 customed, as it was, to penetrate far into the 
 universe — far as corporeal or mental vision here 
 can reacli. Still, what new and extensive scenes 
 of wonder have opened on its eye, enlightened 
 and invigorated by death! The discoveries of 
 Rittenhouse, since he died! — rapturous thought! 
 have already been more and greater than while 
 he lived. Yes; and could he address us from 
 the spiritual world, his language would be, 
 
LIFE or RITTENHOUSE. l-io 
 
 " All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond 
 Is substance; the reverse is folly's creed." 
 
 " Filled with these reflections, let us go from 
 this tomb, and resolve to aim at the high destiny 
 of our nature. Rightly aiming at this, we shall 
 fill up life with usefulness and duty. We shall 
 bear its burdens with patience; and we shall 
 look forward to its close with pleasure. We 
 shall consider death but as the birth of a new 
 and nobler existence; as a dark, but a short 
 passage to the regions of eternal day; and in the 
 very agony of our change, we may exclaim in 
 triumph: ' death, where is thy sting! grave, 
 where is thy victory!' " 
 
 Dr. Rittenhouse was tall in stature; and in his 
 person slender and straight. Although his con- 
 stitution was delicate, his frame did not appear 
 to have been originally weak. His gait was quick, 
 and all his motions lively; his face was oval; 
 complexion fair; and his hair brown. His fea- 
 tures were good. His forehead was liigh, capa- 
 cious, and smooth; his eyes were inclined to 
 grey, expressive of animation, reflection, and 
 ^ood nature, and well placed under full arched 
 brows. His nose was largo, handsome, and in- 
 clined to the aquiline. His mouth was well 
 formed; and his chin broad and sti'ong. In 
 short, his whole countenance was indicativ'e of 
 intelligence, complacency, and goodness; dis- 
 played a mixture of contemplation, benignity, 
 and innocence; and easily distinguished the per- 
 son of the philosopher, in the largest company. 
 His manners corresponded with the amiable 
 
 N 
 
146 LIFE OF RITTENHOUSE. 
 
 simplicity of his life, character, and the nature 
 of his pursuits. He deprecated ambition, pomp, 
 and ostentation; contemned luxury; and hated 
 tyranny in all shapes. He bore his testimony 
 against the traffic in negroes; and was opposed 
 to every species of cruelty and injustice. Though 
 plain in all his domestic arrangements, he lived 
 well; nor was he in any respect deficient in that 
 decorum in his personal appearance, and in the 
 appendages of his household, which correspond- 
 ed with his character and station in society. 
 Without parade or splendour, in his furniture 
 and dress, he was neat, correct, and gentleman 
 like. His mansion, and every thing about it, de- 
 noted the residence of good sense, elegant sim- 
 plicity, and genuine comfort. In all his relations 
 and conduct, he was greatly exemplary; a good 
 husband, father, and master. He was happily 
 free from all those foibles, inconvenient eccen- 
 tricities, and musing, absent seasons, which so 
 frequently characterize philosophers. 
 
 Such was Dr. Rittenhouse. His natural and 
 acquired abilities were truly great, as his moral 
 qualities were of the highest and most estimable 
 order; for in no situation or stage of his life have 
 we beheld his virtues obscured by a cloud of 
 weakness or of vice. 
 
 He published an oration, delivered before the 
 Philosophical Society, 1775, the subject of which 
 is the history of astronomy; and essays, chiefly 
 on mathematical and astronomical subjects, in 
 the first volume of the transactions of the So- 
 ciety. 
 
LIFE OF WAYNE. MT 
 
 WAYNE. 
 
 General Anthony Wayne occupies a con- 
 spicuous station among the heroes and patriots 
 of the American revolution. That eventful 
 epoch was calculated to call into exertion the 
 talents and virtues of our citizens, and the page 
 of history can offer to our vievi^, no country in 
 the maturity of its age, with which the infancy 
 of our own may not be proudly compared. 
 Never has a war been conducted with such puri- 
 ty of intention, such integrity of principle, as the 
 one which separated the United States from the 
 British empire; and while these principles re- 
 main with us, while America continues true to 
 herself, resting on the favour of that Providence 
 which led her through the dangerous ordeal, she 
 may confidently bid defiance to the arts, and to 
 the arms of the old world. 
 
 Anthony Wayne was born in the year 1 745, 
 in Chester county, in the state, then colony, of 
 Pennsylvania, llis father, who was a respecta- 
 ble farmer, was many years a representative for 
 the county of Chester, in the general assembly, 
 before the revolution. His grandfather, who 
 was distinguished for his attachment to the prin- 
 ciples of liberty, bore a captain's commission un- 
 der king William, at the battle of the Boyne. 
 Anthony Wayne succeeded his father as a re- 
 presentative for the county of Chester, in the 
 year 1773; and from his first appearance in 
 public life, distinguished himself as a firm and 
 
148 LIFE OF WAYNE. 
 
 decided patriot. He opposed witH much ability 
 the unjust demands of the mother country, and 
 in connexion with some gentlemen of distin- 
 guished talents, was of material service in pre- 
 paring the way for the firm and decisive part 
 which Pennsylvania took in the general contest. 
 
 In 1775, he was appointed to the command of 
 a regiment, which his character enabled him to 
 raise in a iew weeks in his native county. In 
 the same year he was detached under general 
 Thompson into Canada. In the defeat which 
 followed, in which general Thompson was made 
 a prisoner, colonel Wayne, though wounded, 
 displayed great gallantry and good conduct, in 
 collecting and bringing off the scattered and 
 broken bodies of troops. 
 
 In the campaign of 1776, he served under 
 general Gates at Ticonderoga, and was highly 
 esteemed by that officer for both his bravery and 
 skill as an engineer. At the close of that cam- 
 paign he was created a brigadier general. 
 
 At the battle of Brandywine he behaved with 
 his usual bravery, and for a long time opposed 
 the progress of the enemy at Chad's ford. In 
 this action the inferiority of the Americans in 
 numbers, discipline, and arms, gave them little 
 chance of success; but the peculiar situation of 
 the public mind was supposed to require a battle 
 to be risked; Uie ground was bravely disputed, 
 and the action was not considered as decisive. 
 The spirits of the troops were preserved by a 
 belief that the loss of the enemy had equalled 
 heir own. As it was the intention of the Ame- 
 
LIFE OF WAYNE. i 149 
 
 rican commander in chief to hazard another 
 action on the first favourable opportunity that 
 should offer, general Wayne was detached with 
 his division, to harass the enemy by every means 
 in his power. The British troops were encamp- 
 ed at Fredyffrin, and general Wayne was sta- 
 tioned about three miles in the rear of their left 
 wing, near the Paoli tavern, ai\d from the pre- 
 cautions he had taken, he considered himself se- 
 cure; but about 11 o'clock, on the night of the 
 17th September, major . general Gray, having 
 driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked him 
 with fixed bayonets. Wayne, unable to with- 
 stand the superior number of his assailants, was 
 obliged to retreat; but formed again at a small 
 distance, having lost about one hundred and fifty 
 killed and wounded. As blame was attached, 
 by some of the officers of the army, to general 
 Wayne, for allowing himself to be surprised in 
 this manner, he demanded a court martial, which 
 after examining the necessary evidence, declared 
 that he had done every thing to be expected from 
 an active, brave, and vigilant officer; and ac- 
 quitted him with honour. 
 
 Shortly after was fought the battle of Cer- 
 mantown, in which he greatly signalized himself 
 by his spirited manner of leading his men into 
 action. 
 
 In all the councils of war, general Wayne was 
 distinguished for supporting the most energetic 
 and decisive measures. In the one previous to 
 the battle of Monmouth, he and general Cad- 
 wallader were the only officers decidedly in fa- 
 N 2 
 
150 V I'lFE OF WAYNE. 
 
 vour of attacking the British army. The Ame- 
 rican officers were said to have been influenced 
 by the opinions of the Europeans. The baron 
 de Steuben, and generals Lee and Dii Portail, 
 whose mihtary skill was in high estimation, had 
 warmly opposed an engagement, as too hazard- 
 ous — but general Washington, whose opinion 
 was in favour of an engagement, made such dis- 
 positions as would be most likely to lead to it. 
 In that action, so honourable to the American 
 arms, general Wayne vvas conspicuous in the 
 ardour of his attack. General Washington in 
 liis letter to Congress, observes, "Were I to 
 conclude my account of this day's transactions 
 without expressing my obligations to the officers 
 of the army in general, I should do injustice to 
 their merit, and violence to my own feelings. 
 They seemed to vie with each other in mani- 
 festing their zeal and bravery. The catalogue 
 of those who distinguished themselves is too long 
 to admit of particularizing individuals. [ can- 
 not, however, forbear mentioning brigadier ge- 
 neral Wayne, whose good conduct and bravery 
 throughout the whole action deserves particular 
 commendation." 
 
 In July, 1779, the American commander in 
 chief having conceived a design of attacking the 
 strong post of Stony Point, committed the charge 
 of this enterprise to general Wayne. The gar- 
 rison was composed of six hundred men, princi- 
 pally Highlanders, commanded by lieutenant co- 
 lonel Johnson. Stony Point is a considerable 
 height, the base of which, on the one side, is 
 
LIFE OF WAYNE. 1 5 1 
 
 washed by the Hudson river, and on the other 
 is covered by a morass, over which there is but 
 one crossing place. On the top of tiiis hill was 
 the fort; formidable batteries of heavy artillery 
 were planted on it, in front of which, breast- 
 works were advanced, and half way down, was 
 a double row of abattis. The batteries com- 
 manded the beach and the crossing place of the 
 morass. Several vessels of war were also in the 
 river, whose guns commanded the foot of the 
 hill. At noon, on the 15th of July, general 
 Wayne marched from Sandy Beach, and arrived 
 at eight o'clock in the evening within a mile and 
 a half of the fort, where he made the necessaiy 
 disposition for the assault. After reconnoitring 
 the situation of the enemy, at half past eleven 
 he led his troops with unloaded muskets and fix- 
 ed bayonets, and without firing a single gun, 
 completely carried the fort and mode the garri- 
 son, amounting to five hundred and forty-three 
 (the rest being killed), prisoners. In the attack, 
 while at the head of Febiger's regiment, general 
 Wayne received a wound in the head with a 
 musket ball, which, in the heat of tiie conflict 
 supposing mortal, and anxious to expire in the 
 lap of glory, he called to his aids to carry him 
 forward and let him die in the fort, 'i'hc resist- 
 ance on the part of the garrison was very spirit- 
 ed. Out of the forlorn hope of twenty men, 
 commanded by lieutenant Gibbon, whose busi- 
 ness it was to remove the abattis, seventeen were 
 killed. For the brave, prudent and soldier-like 
 conduct displayed in this achievement, Congress 
 
152 IIFE 4)F WAYNE. 
 
 presented to general Wayne a gold medal emble- 
 matic of the action. 
 
 In the campaign of 1781, in which lord Corn- 
 wallis, and a British army were obliged to sur- 
 render prisoners of war, he bore a conspicuous 
 part. His presence of mind never failed him in 
 the most critical situations. Of this he gave an 
 eminent example on the James river. Having 
 been deceived by some false information, into a 
 belief that the British army had passed the river, 
 leaving but the rear guard behind, he hastened 
 to attack the latter before it should also have ef- 
 fected its passage; but on pushing through a 
 morass and wood, instead of the rear guard he 
 found the whole British army drawn up close to 
 him. His situation did not admit of a moments 
 deliberation. Conceiving the boldest to be the 
 safest measure, he immediately led his small de- 
 tachment, not exceeding eight hundred men, to 
 the charge, and after a short, but very smart 
 and close firing, in which he lost one hundred 
 and eighteen of his men, he succeeded in bring- 
 ing off the rest, under cover of the wood. Lord 
 Cornwallis, suspecting the attack to be a feint, 
 in order to draw him into an ambuscade, would 
 not permit his troops to pursue. 
 
 The enemy having made considerable head 
 in Georgia, Wayne was despatched by general 
 Washington to take the command of the forces 
 in that state, and after some sanguinary engage- 
 ments, succeeded in establishing security and 
 order. For his services in that state, the legis- 
 •ture presented him with a valuable farm. 
 
LIFE OF WAYNE. 153 
 
 On the peace, which followed sliortly after, 
 he returned to private life ; but in 1 789 we find him 
 a member of the Pennsylvania convention, and 
 one of those in favour of the present federal 
 constitution of the United States. 
 
 In the year 1792, he was appointed to suc- 
 ceed general St. Clair, who had resigned the 
 command of the army engaged against the In- 
 dians on our western frontier. He had to op^ 
 pose an enemy of unceasing activity, abounding 
 in stratagems, and flushed with recent victory. 
 His troops were composed of new levies, who 
 with difficulty could be brought to submit to the 
 strictness of discipline, necessary to be preserved 
 in order to counteract the arts of their wily foe. 
 The service was considered as extremely dan- 
 gerous, and the recruiting proceeded very slowly. 
 Two gallant armies had been cut to pieces by 
 these savages, who had destroyed with fire and 
 the hatchet, the advanced settlements of the 
 whites. On his appointment, it was supposed 
 by many, that the military ardour, for which he 
 had ever been eminently distinguished, would be 
 very hkely to lead him into action under un- 
 favourable circumstances, when opposed by a 
 foe, whose vigilance was unceasing, and whose 
 rule it was, never to risk an action, without the 
 greatest assurance of success. But the appoint- 
 ment had been made by the man who of all 
 others was the best judge of the requisite quali- 
 ties of a commander. General Wayne had been 
 selected for this important situation by president 
 Washington, who entertained a distinguished 
 
154 JJFE OF WAYNE. 
 
 regard for him; and the result showed his opi- 
 nion as accurate in this, as in all other instances 
 of his glorious life. 
 
 Wayne formed an encampment at Pittsburgh, 
 and such exemplary discipline was introduced 
 among the new troops, that on their advance 
 into the Indian country, they appeared like vete- 
 rans. He wished to come to a general engage- 
 ment with the enemy, but aware of the serious 
 consequences that would follow a defeat, the 
 movements of the army were conducted with 
 consummate prudence. Parties were constantly 
 in advance, and as well to guard against a sur- 
 prise, which had been fatal to the officers who 
 had preceded him, as to inure his troops to vigi- 
 lance and toil, the station of every night was for- 
 tified. Provisions were difficult to procure, and 
 a rapid advance into the enemy's country, must 
 have been followed by as rapid a retreat. He, 
 properly, conceived that the security of the 
 country and the favourable termination of the 
 war, depended more on maintaining the ground, 
 in a slow advance, than by making a rapid in- 
 cursion into their villages, which he might be 
 obliged instantly to abandon. At this time the 
 Six Nations had shown a disposition to hostili- 
 ties, which the care of the president was scarcely 
 able to prevent. And on the south, it was with 
 difficulty that the government of Georgia re- 
 strained the turbulence of its savage neighbours. 
 In this situation, a retreat of the American 
 troops, would probably have been attended with 
 the most fatal consequences to the country. 
 
LIFE OF WAYNli. 155 
 
 The Indians had collected in great numbers, 
 and it was necessary not only to rout them, but 
 to occupy their country by a chain of posts, that 
 should, for the future, check their predatory in- 
 cursions. Pursuing this regular and systematic 
 mode of advance, the autumn of 1793 found 
 general Wayne with his army at a post in the 
 wilderness, called Greensville, about six miles 
 in advance of Fort Jefferson, where he deter- 
 mined to encamp for the winter, in order to 
 make the necessary arrangements for opening 
 the campaign to effect early in the following 
 spring. After fortifying his camp, he took pos- 
 session of the ground on which the Americans 
 had been defeated in 1791, which he fortified 
 also, and called the work Fort Recovery. This 
 situation of the army, menacing the Indian vil- 
 lages, effectually prevented any attack on the 
 white settlements. 
 
 The impossibility of procuring the necessary 
 supplies prevented the march of the troops till 
 the summer. On the eighth of August, the army 
 arrived at the junction of the rivers Au Glaize 
 and Miami of the Lakes, where they erected 
 works for the protection of the stores. About 
 thirty miles from this place, the British had 
 formed a post, in the vicinity of which the In- 
 dians had assembled their whole force. On the 
 15th, the army again advanced down the Miami, 
 and on the 18th arrived at the Rapids. On the 
 following day they erected some works for the 
 protection of the baggage. The situation of the 
 enemy was reconnoitred, and they were found 
 
156 LIFE OF WAYNE. 
 
 posted in a thick wood, in the rear of the British 
 fort. On the 20ih, the army advanced to the 
 attack. The Miami covered the right flank, 
 and on the left were mounted vohmteers com- 
 manded by general Todd. After marching about 
 five miles, major Price, who led the advance, 
 received so heavy a fire from the Indians who 
 were stationed behind trees, that he was com- 
 pelled to fall back. The enemy had occupied 
 a wood in front of the British fort, which from 
 the quantity of fallen timber, could not be enter- 
 ed by the horse. The legion was immediately 
 ordered to advance with trailed arms and rouse 
 them from their covert; the cavalry under cap- 
 tain Campbell, were directed to pass between 
 the Indians and the river, while the volunteers, 
 led by general Scott, made a circuit to turn their 
 flank. So rapid, however, was the charge of 
 the legion, that before the rest of the army could 
 get into action, the enemy were conipletely 
 routed, and driven through the woods for more 
 than two miles, and the troops halted within 
 gunshot of the British fort. All the Indians' 
 houses and cornfields were destroyed. In this 
 decisive action, the whole loss of general Wayne's 
 army, in killed and wounded, amounted only to 
 one hundred and seven men. As hostilities con- 
 tinued on the part of the Indians, their whole 
 country was laid waste, and forts established, 
 which efFectually prevented their return. 
 
 The success of this engagement destroyed the 
 enemy's power; and in the following year gene- 
 ral Wayne concluded a definitive treaty of peace 
 with them. 
 
LIFE, OF WASUINGTON. 157 
 
 A life of peril and of glory was terminated in 
 the month of December, 1796. He had shielded 
 his country from the murderous hatchet of the 
 savage. He had established her boundaries. 
 He had forced her enemies to sue for protection. 
 He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts, and po- 
 tent in arms. What more could his patriotic 
 spirit wish to see ? He died in a hut in the wil- 
 derness, and lies buried on the shore of Lake 
 Erie.* 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 I\ the history of man, we contemplate, with 
 particular satisfaction, those legislators, heroes, 
 and philosophers, whose wisdom, valour, and 
 virtue, have contributed to the happiness of the 
 human species. We trace the luminous pro- 
 gress of those excellent beings with secret com- 
 placency ;'^ our enmlation is exciteti, while we 
 behold them steadily pursue the path of recti- 
 tude, in defiance of every obstruction; and we 
 rejoice that we are of the same species. 
 
 The authentic pages of biography unite the 
 most grateful amusement witli instruction. Truth 
 supports the dignity of the historic muse, who 
 will not admit of either fulsome panegyric, or 
 
 * His remains were removed, in 1809, to Chester coun- 
 ty, anil interred in the family burying ground of his son 
 Isaac Wayne, esq. A monument has been erected to his 
 memory by the society of Cincinnati. 
 
158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 invidious censure — she describes her hero witli 
 genuine simphcity — mentions his frailties, his 
 characteristic pecuharities, and his shining qua- 
 Hties. In short, she gives a faithful and lively 
 portrait of the man, investigates the latent motives 
 of his actions, and celebrates those virtues which 
 have raised him to an enviable pre-eminence 
 above his cotemporaries. 
 
 We sympathize in the sufferings, and partici- 
 pate the triumphs of those illustrious men who 
 stand 
 
 " Majestic 'mid the monuments of time;" 
 
 and the approbation of excellence in others, na- 
 turally leads the mind to imitate the object of its 
 adoration. 
 
 Among these v;orthies, who have a claim to our 
 gratitude and veneration, George Washington, 
 a native of the United States, appears in a con- 
 sj)icuous place, in the first rank. 
 
 He was the descendant of an ancestry, not 
 opulent, but ancient and respectable, from the 
 north of England. About the year 1657, his 
 great grandfather, John Washington, possessing 
 an independent and enterprising spirit, emigrated 
 to America, and settled on an estate, in West- 
 moreland county, in the province of Virginia. 
 His immediate issue, in the line we are tracing, 
 was Lawrence Washington, whose son Augus- 
 tine, was, by a second marriage, the father of the 
 subject of this article. 
 
 George Washington, being the third in de- 
 scent, from the European stock, was an Ameri- 
 can, by the ties of birth-ri^^ht and blood, no less 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 139 
 
 than by those of education and sentiment. He 
 was born at the original seat of his paternal an- 
 cestors, in tlie county of Westmoreland, on the 
 twenty-second day of February, 1732. 
 
 Primitively, to inspire him with a love of truth, 
 and to cultivate, in his infant mind, a rooted ab- 
 horrence of deception and falsehood, appear to 
 have been the early and continued care of his 
 excellent parents. Nor, in relation to him and 
 his future destinies, could they have engaged in 
 a more sacred and important duty; or devised 
 by the aid of wisdom and experience, a plan of 
 education of higher necessity or fairer promise. 
 
 Ardent, enterprising, and of surpassing 
 strength, his mind was peculiarly quahfied to 
 lead or to command. For ordinary operations, it 
 had neither fitness nor predilection; nor, from 
 his tenth year, could it ever be easily seduced 
 into childish sports. 
 
 Without the sentiments, then, so wisely and 
 piously inculcated by his parents, a love of truth, 
 and an abhorrence of falsehood, which constitute 
 the basis of sound morality, it might, by becom- 
 ing the harbour of vice and dishonour, have 
 proved to his coteniporaries, instead of a bless- 
 ing, a source of serious and lasting misfortune. 
 Enamoured of employment, and formed for high 
 exploits, it could not, under circumstances fa- 
 vourable for action, have failed to transmit to 
 posterity, some enduring memorials of its powers. 
 In achievements, advantageous or injurious, in 
 no common degree, it was destined to signalize 
 itself. *" 
 
 A 
 
160 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 So faithfully was this scheme of instruction 
 administered, that it proved, in its issue, com- 
 pletely successful. By those who are entitled to 
 credit, it is asserted, that, on no occasion, either 
 to insure a favour or reward, or to escape an- 
 ticipated reprimand or correction, was the sub- 
 ject of it known to utter a falsehood. A sense 
 of duty, operating on a manly and ingenious dis- 
 position, induced him to acknowledge, without 
 prevarication, whatever faults the wantonness of 
 childhood might have seduced him to commit. 
 So proverbial did his adherence to truth, and 
 the perfect correctness of his representations 
 become, that, when, at school, disputes arose 
 among his companions, as to the existence or 
 character of facts or occurrences, where he was 
 alleged to have been present, he was uniformly 
 called on, to settle the controversy; and appeals 
 from his decision were exceedingly rare. 
 
 These things, small in themselves, would be 
 unworthy of record, as the mere attributes of the 
 child; but they swell into importance, from their 
 intimate connexion with the transcendent worth 
 and greatness of the man. So true, and so im- 
 portant, in their application, are the lines of the 
 poet: 
 
 " 'Tis education forms the solid mind, 
 
 " Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd." 
 
 Before he had completed his tenth year, young- 
 Washington, having had the misfortune to be de- 
 prived of his father, was left to the care of a 
 widowed mother, under circumstances, which 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 161 
 
 (lid not permit him to receive the advantages of 
 a hberal education. 
 
 The knowledge of mathematics excepted, in 
 which, from the bent and aptitude of his genius 
 to that science, he made considerable progress, 
 his scholastic attainments appear to have been 
 limited. In the homely language of the times, 
 " to read, write, and cipher,'' constituted the 
 complement of learning, allotted to him, who 
 was destined to prove the glory of his age; and 
 to rank at the head of the ornaments of history. 
 But so vigorous were the seeds of greatness im- 
 planted in his nature, that but little .cultivation 
 was requisite for their growth. 
 
 He is said to have manifested, at an early pe- 
 riod, a strong predilection for the military pro- 
 fession. Besides an unusual attachment to fire- 
 arms, and a dexterity in using them, beyond his 
 years, he was in the constant practice of drilhng 
 his companions, forming them into sections, ar- 
 ranging them in order of battle, and leading 
 them to mimic combat. On these occasions, 
 however inferior, in age and size, to many of his 
 comrades, he was always, in rank, commander 
 in chief. 
 
 Nor was nature content to bestow on him only 
 the soul of a chieftain. To render him perfect, 
 in this respect, as far as perfection belongs to 
 humanity, she was equally liberal to him, in 
 personal qualities. With a figure, masculme 
 and well fornied, and unusually graceful and 
 commanding, for his years, he possessed extra- 
 ordinary agility and strength. In running, he 
 o2 
 
162 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 had no equal; in leaping and wrestling, very 
 fevv. In horsemanship and hunting, he also ex- 
 celled. 
 
 By pursuing habitually, during his youth, sucli 
 manly and athletic exercises, as these, he ac- 
 quired that vigour and hardiii^d, activity and 
 address, which so admirably fitt* him, in quali- 
 ties of person, for the scenes in which he was 
 destined to engage. For, to him whose province 
 it becomes, to penetrate unexplored and danger- 
 ous forests; to reconnoitre a foe, swift of foot, 
 and forever on the alert; to endure the extremes 
 and hardships of a camp, oftentimes unprovided 
 with the necei*sary protection against the incle- 
 mencies of the weather; and to lead armies, in 
 person, to battle; efficiency of body, is no less 
 requisite than resources of mind. 
 
 tVhen in his fifteenth year, his passion for 
 arms disclosed itself in an act of a more decided 
 character. Fired by the splendour of some 
 achievements at sea, and the Americans having, 
 as yet, no renown on that element, he solicited 
 and obtained the appointment of midshipman rn 
 the British navy. 
 
 But the scenes, which, in prospect, so at- 
 tractively presented themselves to his youthful 
 imagination, and invited him to glory, in this 
 line of life, he voluntarily rehnquished, at the 
 entreaties of his mother. At so critical an age, 
 when feeling is most unruly, and reason imma- 
 ture, did he exhibit a perfect mastery of himself, 
 even in opposition to his ruling passion. 
 
 From this period, we hear but little of our 
 
tlffi OP WASHINGTON. 163 
 
 young countryman, until his nineteenth year, 
 when we find hiui, high in reputation, as a sur- 
 veyor of land, in a frontier district, and one of 
 the adjutants general of the province of Vir- 
 ginia, with the rank of major in the line. To 
 have obtained, thus early, a trust and a com- 
 mission, requiring, for their due execution, the 
 judgment and experience of mature life, he must 
 have employed his youth to excellent purpose. 
 To the steadiness, fidelity, and perseverance of 
 manhood, he must have united a commanding 
 dignity of deportment, and a degree of prudence, 
 aiKl intelligence, altogether beyond his years. 
 History furnishes, perhaps, no instance, in which, 
 without the intrigues of party, or the overruling 
 influence of the affluent or the great, a confidence 
 so extensive, as was here reposed in so young 
 a man. 
 
 But this is not the only particular, in which 
 his merit was beyond example. He rarely ap- 
 pears, in any capacity, without exhibiting a 
 marked superiority of excellence. This is true, 
 whether we regard him as a citizen, or a states- 
 man, a first magistrate, or a military chief. Un- 
 lettered as he was, even his writings are singu- 
 lariy perspicuous, chaste, and forcible. But, on 
 these topics, we shall have occasion, hereafter, 
 to dwell more at large. 
 
 A crisis was now at hand, in which he was to 
 be called to the execution of a trust, much more 
 arduous in its nature, and momentous in its 
 issue, than any, in which he had been, hereto- 
 fore, concerned. 
 
164 XIFE OP AVASHINGTON^. 
 
 France and England, although at peace in 
 Europe, might be said to be, virtually, at war, 
 in America. Each nation claimed the right of 
 sovereignty, over a large unsettled tract of coun- 
 try, v^^est of the Allegheny mountains, but v^^iih- 
 in the chartered lines of the British colonies. 
 In this disputed territory, France meditated the 
 erection of a number of forts, with a view to 
 maintain her claim to it; and, connecting Canada 
 to Louisiana, by a chain of military posts, to 
 confine the British colonies to the east of the 
 mountains. This encroachment, should it be 
 actually attempted, it was the determination of 
 the colonists to repel by arms. 
 
 To prevent such an extremity, if possible; or, 
 should he fail in the effort, the better to justify 
 his conduct, in the event, governor Dinwiddle, 
 of the province of Virginia, resolved to send a 
 remonstrance to the French commandant, on 
 the waters of the Ohio, solemnly protesting 
 against the proceedings of France, as hostile to 
 the rights of his Britannic majesty, and threaten- 
 ing to the safety, and injurious to the interests, 
 of his American subjects. Of this important 
 state document, which might become the basis 
 of either peace or war, major Washington, now 
 in tlie twenty-second year of his age, was select- 
 ed as the bearer. 
 
 But his mission was not limited, in its object, 
 to the mere carrying of a letter. He was de- 
 puted to explore, with a view to military posi- 
 tions and operations, the tract of country 
 through which he was to pass; to conciliate the 
 
MFE OF WASHINGTON. 16.1 
 
 affections of the Indian tribes inhabiting it; to 
 compass, as far as possible, the designs of 
 France; and to report, on his return, such intel- 
 ligence, as might aid the government, in its 
 adoption of measures, to meet the occasion. 
 
 A mission so intrinsically difficult, and, at the 
 same time, so important, had never, perhaps, 
 been intrusted to the sole management of so 
 youthful a negotiator. To a mind less aspiring, 
 or a spirit of less ardour, intrepidity, and enter- 
 prise, the obstacles that presented themselves 
 would have appeared insurmountable. 
 
 Winter was approaching; and the route to the 
 French head quarters, lay through a tract of 
 wilderness, several hundred miles in extent, 
 embarrassed by mountains, intersected by rapid 
 and dangerous rivers, covered by snows, of con- 
 siderable depth, and inhabited by several tribes 
 of savages, some of which were known to be 
 unfriendly, at the same time, to the British colo- 
 nists. 
 
 But instead of discouragements, these things 
 were incentives, to the soul of Washington. 
 Leaving to others, of halcyon temperament, the 
 pleasures of the calm, and the enjoyment of the 
 sunshine, it was his to exult in the strife of the 
 elements, and the corning of the storm. Pleased 
 with the enterprise, to which he was called, on 
 account of the good it might eventually produce, 
 he was the more enamoured of it from the diffi- 
 culties and dangers, by which it was surrounded. 
 
 Having prepared for his journey, without a 
 moment's delay, he set out from a frontier sot- 
 
166 LI1?E OP M ASHIJfGTOX. 
 
 tlement, on Will's creek, on the 1 5lh of Novem- 
 ber, accompanied by two servants, and an in- 
 terpreter, accomplished his mission, in a manner 
 so perfect, as to secure the undivided applause 
 of his country, and returned to Williamsburgh, 
 on the 78th day from the time of his appoint- 
 ment. 
 
 During this excursion, besides other observa- 
 tions of practical importance, he lirst designated 
 as a situation suitable for a fortress, the point of 
 land, formed by the confluence of the Mononga- 
 hela and the Allegheny rivers. On that spot Fort 
 Dii Q,uesne, subsequently Fort Fitt, now Pitts- 
 burgh, was, soon afterwards, erected by order of 
 the French. 
 
 The journal kept by major Washington, on 
 this occasion, was deemed, by the governor and 
 colonial assembly, of his native province, worthy 
 of the press; when printed, was eagerly sought 
 after and read, by his countrymen; and pro- 
 cun^d, for its author, as well on account of the 
 resources of his ujind, as of his personal prowess, 
 cnei'gies, and firumess, a large additional stock 
 of public admiration, and well placed confi- 
 dence. 
 
 Induced, by the stormy aspect of affairs, to 
 raise, in the following year, a body of men, for 
 the protection of her frontier settlements, Vir- 
 ginia conferred on major Washington, the rank 
 of heulenant colonel; and, his superior officer 
 soon after dying, gave to him the entiic command 
 of the regiment. 
 
 Accustomed to lead in every enterprise of 
 
J.irJi OF WASHINGTON. 16." 
 
 gallantry and danger, he had the fortune to con- 
 duct, in person, the first open conHict of arms, 
 which took place in the war that was now 
 commencing, between the French and the Bri- 
 tish colonists. Convinced of the hostile inten- 
 tions of a detachment of the former, which had 
 encamped near the Great Meadows, on the 
 western frontier of Virginia, he advanced on 
 them, under cover of a dark and rainy night, 
 poured in a tire, which killed the commanding 
 officer. Monsieur Jumonville, and immediately 
 surrounding the remainder, captured the whole 
 party, with the exception of one individual, who 
 effected his escape. 
 
 Not long after this, an affair occurred, much 
 better calculated than any preceding one, to tiy 
 completely the military talents of our young com- 
 mander. 
 
 With nothing but a half finished stockade 
 fort, and his own genius to defend him, we find 
 him, at the head of three hundred Virginians, 
 engaged in desperate, but unequal combat, with 
 a detachment of twelve hundred French and In- 
 dians, under the command of Monsieur de Vil- 
 lier. 
 
 The action lasted from ten o'clock, in the 
 morning, until sunset; during the whole of which, 
 foremost in battle, and refusing refreshment, 
 Washington fought without the stockade, openly 
 exposed to the fire of the enemy. But, from 
 the beginning, until the close, of his career of 
 glory, the shield of Heaven appeared to be be- 
 fore him ; for^ in the midst of peril, which so of- 
 
168 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ten seemed to menace him with inevitable de- 
 struction, no hostile hand was ever permitted to 
 shed a drop of his blood. 
 
 A parley being called for, by the French com- 
 mander, a negotiation ensued, which terminated, 
 on the part of Washington, in a surrender of the 
 fort, on condition, that the defenders of it should 
 be permitted to "-march out with the honours of 
 war, to retain their arms and baggage, and re- 
 turn, unmolested, to the inhabited parts of Vir- 
 ginia/^ 
 
 For their firmness and good conduct in bat- 
 tle, and a capitulation so honourable, with an 
 enemy so far superior in numbers, colonel 
 Washington and his officers received from the 
 legislature of Virginia, a vote of thanks. In ad- 
 dition to their pay, three hundred pistoles were, 
 at the same time, distributed among the soldiers 
 who had been engaged in the action. No ar- 
 rangements being made, by the government of 
 the colony, for a renewal of offensive operations, 
 during the present year, colonel Washington 
 resigned his commission. 
 
 An open rupture between France and England 
 was, in a short time, the result of so serious a 
 collision between their colonies. 
 
 Preparations were made by both parties, to 
 act with vigour, and on an extensive scale. 
 
 General Braddock arriving in America, early 
 in the year 1755, at the head of two British re- 
 giments, with orders to proceed immediately to 
 protect ihe frontiers, and chastise the enemy, 
 colonel Washington accepted an invitation to 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 169 
 
 accompany hiirij in the character of a volunteer 
 aid. 
 
 The object of the campaign was the reduction 
 of Du Quesne, a French garrison, situated, as 
 already stated, near the confluence of the Mo- 
 nongahela and the Allegheny rivers. 
 
 Ignorant, a,s general Braddock was, of the 
 nature of the country, through which he was to 
 pass, as well as the character of the enemy he 
 had to encounter; and rejecting, from a senti- 
 ment of military pride, strengthened, perhaps, in 
 the present instance, by a conceit of British 
 superiority, the salutary advice of his American 
 aid, who was known to be perfectly acquainted 
 with both, delay in movement, and a terrible 
 disaster in battle, were the fatal consequences. 
 
 While a select detachment of twelve hundred 
 men, under the immediate command of general 
 Braddock, was on its march from the Little Mea- 
 dows, towards Fort Du Q,uesne, colonel Wash- 
 ington, who had been previously indisposed, was 
 suddenly seized with a raging fever, which com- 
 pelled him, after a dangerous effort to proceed, 
 to halt for several days, under medical treat- 
 ment. 
 
 Having recovered sufficiently to travel, in his 
 baggage wagon, he pressed forward, with all the 
 eagerness of mihtary enthusiasm, and, rejoining 
 the detachment, on the 8th of July, entered im- 
 mediately, although much enfeebled, on the per- 
 formance of his duties. 
 
 On the day following, just as the army had 
 crossed the Monongahela, and secure of danger, 
 
trO LIFE OF WASHIKGTOJV. 
 
 was in easy march towards its place of destina- 
 tion, now, but a few miles distant, in front, oc- 
 curred that memorable scene of slaughter, known 
 throughout Europe, as well as America, by the 
 popular name of " Braddock^s defeat." 
 
 An ambuscade had been formed, in a well 
 chosen position, by a large party of French and 
 Indians, into which, by again rejecting, in a tone 
 of haughtiness, the modest counsels of his vo- 
 lunteer aid, advising him of the probabihty of 
 such an event, the British commader was unfor- 
 tunately seduced. 
 
 A conflict of the most sanguinary character 
 ensued. It was in this field of blood, where the 
 hearts of the bravest shrunk, in dismay, from the 
 dismal war-hoop, and the wide-spreading car- 
 nage, that the youthful American, by his un- 
 shaken firmness, self-possession, and skill in 
 battle, distinguished himself to the perfect asto- 
 nishment of his country. 
 
 So deadly was the aim of the French and In- 
 dian riflemen, at the British officers, that, early 
 in the action, Washington was the only surviving 
 aid of the ifl fated Braddock. This disaster, in 
 itself disheartening, trebled his duties, and in- 
 creased his exertions, to a degree that was in- 
 credible. Debilitated, as he was, by a fever, 
 from which he had but imperfectly recovered, 
 he was seen on horseback, at every point of the 
 action, but especially where the fire of the ene- 
 my was most destructive to the British line, di- 
 recting the movements of the provincial rangers, 
 rallying and encouraging the broken and de- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 171 
 
 spending columns of regulars, and executing the 
 orders of the commander in chief 
 
 During three hours, he was thus exposed, far 
 within striking distance, to the deliberate aim of 
 some of the most deadly marksmen of the age. 
 Two horses fell under him, and a third was 
 wounded; four balls pierced his coat, and seve- 
 ral others grazed his sword; but, destined, by 
 Heaven, for Higher purposes, his person was un- 
 touched. Every other officer on horseback, be- 
 ing either killed, or severely wounded, he, alone, 
 at the close of the action, was capable of ser- 
 vice. 
 
 What rendered his safety the more extraordi- 
 nary, several of the Indians al'terwards acknow- 
 ledged, that, when but a few paces distant from 
 him, they aimed their shot repeatedly at his 
 breast. His escape, under these circumstances, 
 began to produce among them a firm belief, that, 
 by virtue of some supernatural agency, his per- 
 son, for the time, was rendered invulnerable. 
 
 Partly on account of a preservation so signal, 
 in the midst of perils, so numerous and menacing, 
 and, in part, from the well tried heroism of his 
 character, an able and pious divine, of the day, 
 declared, in a strain of impassioned eloquence, 
 that he could not but consider him as preserved 
 by Heaven for some very distinguished service 
 to his country. 
 
 , When in the course of the battle, general 
 Braddock, who, at the head of his troops, had 
 gallantly presented himself, as a mark for the 
 riflemen, fell, under a wound, that, in a few days. 
 
1 72 tlPE or WASHINGTOJf. 
 
 proved mortal, the panic of his regulars became 
 universal, and their flight from the combat, dis- 
 orderly and pi'ecipitate. But^ not so with Wash- 
 ington, and the surviving remnant of his brave 
 Virginians. They lingered on the field, with 
 unyielding obstinacy, protected the rear of their 
 routed companions, and rescued from the 
 butchery of the hatchet and the scalping knife, 
 the person of the wounded commander in chief 
 
 Under Providence, it was the good conduct of 
 colonel Washington, in battle and retreat, that 
 saved the army from utter extermination. It 
 was the belief of every one — nor did thousands 
 hesitate, loudly to express it — that had he been 
 invested with the chief command, the disasters of 
 the day would not have occurred. 
 
 By the discomfiture and retreat of the army 
 of Braddock, the frontiers of Virginia were again 
 exposed to the incursions and massacres of a 
 victorious foe. For protection and safety, the 
 trust of his native province, was instinctively re- 
 posed in the genius of Washington. So unlimit- 
 ed was her confidence in his judgment and skill, 
 that, in her scheme of defence, she not only ap- 
 pointed him commander in chief of all the colo- 
 nial troops to be raised on the occasion, but 
 vested in him the privilege of nominating his 
 field officers. 
 
 From this time, until the close of hostilities in 
 1758, a period of about three years, the life of 
 our young countryman presented a scene of un- 
 remitting action, solicitude and toil. 
 
 To defend, with a very limited body of troops. 
 
 i 
 
LIFE OF WASHlNGToy. 173 
 
 a frontier of nearly four hundred miles in extent, 
 easily passable at almost any point, against an 
 enemy intrepid, artful^ and forever on the alert; 
 that skulked by day, and ravaged by night, sub- 
 stituting murder for honourable war — against 
 such an enemy, to conduct a defence so dispro- 
 portioned to his means, was a task too arduous 
 for man to perform. It was during his devotion 
 to it, and while his distracted fellow subjects 
 were imploring from him succours he was una- 
 ble to afford, that he expressed himself, by a let- 
 ter, in the following terms: "The supplicating 
 tears of the women, and the moving petitions of 
 the men, melt me with such deadly sorrow, that, 
 I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I 
 could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the 
 butchering enemy, provided that could contribute 
 to the people^s ease/^ 
 
 Difficult, and of great responsibility, as was 
 the appointment he held, his popularity, while 
 toiling in the discharge of the duties of it, con- 
 tinuing to increase, he left it with more reputa- 
 tion than he accepted it: a circumstance of rare 
 occurrence, in any thing connected with the feel- 
 ings of the multitude. In the midst of their dis- 
 tresses, when their sufferings were such as might 
 have wrung from them expressions of deep dis- 
 satisfaction, with every thing earthly, the people 
 of the frontiers were never heard to murmur a 
 complaint against the conduct of Washington. 
 With a degree of unanimity, but very seldom 
 witnessed, all seemed convinced, that whatever 
 p 2 
 
1 r4 LIFE OF WASniNGTOX. 
 
 was within the compass of human achievement, 
 he faithfully performed. 
 
 Of all that he recommended to the govern- 
 ment of Virginia, for the permanent security 
 and tranquillity of the province, his favourite 
 measure was the reduction of Fort Du Q,uesne. 
 " Never," said he in a letter to a friend, " will 
 the knife and the hatchet cease to be stained 
 in the blood of the frontier inhabitants, until that 
 fortress be within our power. Better to sacrifice, 
 in the reduction of it, another army, than that 
 the enterprise be abandoned." 
 
 The event, in relation to this point, fully 
 evinced the correctness of his views, and the 
 soundness of his judgment. No sooner did Fort 
 Du Q,uesne pass into the possession of the Bri- 
 tish, in 1758, than the war of the frontiers was 
 completely at an end. 
 
 The marauding and murdering parties of sa- 
 vages, heretofore so fatal and alarming in their 
 incursions, having, now, on the borders of the 
 colonies, neither a place of common rendezvous, 
 in which to concert their plans of invasion, a 
 strong hold to fly to on occasions of danger, nor 
 artful counsellors to encourage and reward 
 them in the practice of rapine, and the pursuit 
 of blood, ceased to be troublesome to the repose 
 of the inhabitants. 
 
 With the close of the campaign of 1758, ac- 
 tive hostihties being now at an end, terminated 
 the career of colonel Washington as a provincial | 
 officer. 
 
LIFE OF WASUIKGTOIS'. Ko 
 
 On resigning his commissionj and retiring 
 from the army, he received, in a most affection- 
 ate address, the thanks of his regiment; and car- 
 ried with him the esteem of the British officers, 
 and the gratitude and love of his native province, 
 which he had so highly honoured and so nobly 
 served. 
 
 Scarcely had he reposed from the toils of war, 
 when, in reward for all he had performed and 
 endured, he was favoured, in marriage, with 
 the hand of Mrs. Custis, who, to an elegant per- 
 son, and an ample fortune, united all the quali- 
 ties of a fine woman, and the attainments and 
 polish of an accomplished lady. 
 
 A few years previously, he had received, on 
 the death of an elder brother, a valuable estate, 
 denominated Mount Vernon, pleasantly situated 
 on the banks of the Potomac. On this he set- 
 tled soon after his marriage, and, forgetting in 
 the lap of domestic happiness, the fatigues and 
 solicitudes of military life, exchanged, in a short 
 time, the character of the ablest soldier of the 
 country, for that of the most skilful cultivator of 
 the soil. 
 
 From the beauties of its scenery, the salubrity 
 of its situation, and a sentiment of attachment 
 to his brother, who bequeathed it to him, Mount 
 Vernon had for Washington all the attractions a 
 place of residence could possibly possess. In 
 that delightful and favourite spot, surrounded by 
 whatever renders life desirable, 
 
 " A nation's praise, friends, health, connubial love, 
 " A conscience peaceful, and approving Heaven," 
 
176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 he devoted himself, for a period of fifteen years, 
 exclusively to agricultural and domestic pursuits; 
 except, that he served as a member of the house 
 of burgesses of Virginia, and a judge of the 
 court of the county in which he resided. In 
 these capacities he acquitted himself with great 
 intelligence, purity and honour, enlarged his ex- 
 perience in the transaction of public business, 
 and acquired much useful and practical know- 
 ledge in the science of civil government. 
 
 During this interval, the conflicting claims of 
 Great Britain and America were oftentimes a 
 subject of serious discussion in the legislature of 
 Virginia. On these occasions, Washington 
 steadily attached himself to the whig party, and 
 opposed, with all the weight of his character, 
 and every argument his genius could devise, the 
 right of the mother country to tax her colonies. 
 In consideration of this line of conduct, he was 
 known by the name of the Virginia Patriot. 
 
 In the year 1774, we find him a distinguished 
 member from his native province, of the first 
 American Congress, which assembled in Phila- 
 delphia, to deliberate on the rights and interests 
 of their common country, to remonstrate against 
 grievances, which could no longer be tolerated, 
 and, should the crisis demand it, to choose be- 
 tween political freedom and bondage, the resist- 
 ance of citizens and tlie submission of slaves. 
 
 Denominated, from his skill and experience 
 in military affairs the Soldier of America, he 
 was chairman, as long as he remained in Con- 
 gress, of every committee appointed by that 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 177 
 
 body, for the purpose of public defence. And, 
 when, ultimately^ the injustice, and meditated 
 oppression of the British ministry, forced on the 
 American people the war of the revolution, he 
 was unanimously elected, to the infinite satisfac- 
 tion and joy of his country, commander in chief, 
 of all the armies of the United Colonies. So 
 pre-eminent was his standing, as a military cha- 
 racter, that his appointment was neither attended 
 with competition, nor followed by envy. It was 
 an act of intuitive homage, paid by an enlight- 
 ened and virtuous people, to an individual who 
 was above rivalship. 
 
 Illustrious as he already was, and inestimable 
 as his services to his country had been, we now 
 behold him entering on a much more radiant 
 and important career. 
 
 Having accepted, with expressions of peculiar 
 modesty, the exalted rank bestowed on him, 
 by Congress, he soon manifested, in the dis- 
 charge of the momentous duties appertaining to 
 it, all the qualities of a great commander. What 
 he had been in his youth, to the colony of Vir- 
 ginia, its vigorous and invincible arm of defence, 
 he now became, in the strength of manhood, to 
 his country at large. 
 
 To give a finished portraiture of all his 
 achievements, during the war of the revolution, 
 is the province of history: the biographer must 
 be content with a bare enumeration of them. 
 
 It was not the least patriotic of his actions, 
 that, for his services, as commander in chief, 
 which were indeed above price, he declined. 
 
178 LIFE OF WASaiNGTOJf. 
 
 from their commencement, by express stipula- 
 tion, all emolument. The disbursement of the 
 expenses, necessarily attendant on the station 
 he filled, was all his country could prevail on 
 him to accept. 
 
 Massachusetts was now the theatre ol* war, 
 the town of Boston being occupied by the enemy. 
 
 On the reception of his commission, general 
 Washington lost no time in placing himself at 
 the head of the American forces, in the vicinity 
 of Cambridge. 
 
 His journey from Philadelphia to that place, 
 was a continued jubilee to the friends of liberty. 
 He was welcomed into the towns and villages, 
 through which he passed, by deputations, gratu- 
 latory addresses, professions of attachment and 
 proffers of support. The liveliest hopes were 
 entertained and expressed, that, under his di- 
 rection, Heaven would be propitious to the arms 
 of freedom. 
 
 On his arrival at the American headquarters, 
 he found an assemblage of brave men, anxious 
 to avenge the wrongs of their country, but no 
 army, in a technical sense. Discipline among 
 the troops, experience among the officers, skil- 
 ful engineers, ammunition and bayonets, clothes 
 and working tools, were wanting in a degree 
 that was truly alarming. Nothing but the genius 
 and resources of a great leader, could supply, 
 on the very lines of an enemy, provided with 
 every thing, such a fearful deficiency of military 
 means. 
 
 Under these circumstances the first care of 
 
LIFE OF WASHIAGTOX. 179 
 
 the commander in chief vvas^ to introduce among 
 his soldiers a system of suitable disciphne, to 
 create the means of instruction for his officers, 
 and to procure, without delay, the munitions 
 that were wanting. 
 
 No sooner had he accomplished this, and 
 prepared his army to operate cjffensively, than 
 he became exceedingly anxious for some achieve- 
 ment, that might shed a lustre on the arms of 
 his country, and confirm the spirits of the timid 
 and wavering. 
 
 For this purpose, he projected, against the 
 enemy, various enterprises, all of them marked 
 with profound judgment, and some of them pe- 
 culiarly bold and daring. But the prudence of 
 general Howe, the British commander, who 
 kept strictly within his lines, and other circum- 
 stances, not subject to human control, prevent- 
 ed their accomplishment. 
 
 Thus passed the winter of 1775-6, the British 
 army in possession of Boston, and the American 
 of the heights and strong holds around it, with- 
 out the occurrence of any action to illustrate the 
 period. 
 
 By the course he pursued, and the measures 
 he adopted, the prudence and skill of the Ame- 
 rican commander, were sufficiently manifested; 
 but as no assault on the enemy's works had ac- 
 tually been made; and as the attacks and adven- 
 tures he had secretly meditated, were known only 
 to himself, and a few of his officers, some began 
 to question his energy and enterprise. In rela- 
 tion, however, to this point, doubt and uncertainty 
 
180 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were effectually dissipated, by his conduct, on 
 various occasions, in the progress of the war. 
 
 To say nothing of the ardour and heroism of 
 his youth, the current of future events exhibited, 
 in a short time, abundant proof, that the bent of 
 his mind was to daring exploits; but, that a con- 
 sciousness of the inferiority of his means, and a 
 determination, never to hazard, for his own gra- 
 tification, the interest of the cause in which he 
 was engaged, restrained the native impetuosity 
 of his character. To his moral and intellectual 
 excellence, therefore, not to any physical defect, 
 was his Fabian system — his apparent want of 
 enterprise, to be attributed. 
 
 Weary of so long a confinement to his works, 
 yet more afraid to venture from behind them; 
 and apprehensive, that by some successful stra- 
 tagem, the American chief might yet compel 
 him to open combat, general Howe, early in the 
 spring of 1776, evacuated Boston and sailed to 
 the south. 
 
 Washington immediately entered the town, 
 where he was received with grateful hearts and 
 joyous acclamations, midst the praises and bless- 
 ings of a patriotic people, rescued from the op- 
 pression of military rule. 
 
 New York became next the theatre of war. 
 Foreseeing that this would he the case, the Ame- 
 rican leader had some time previously, despatch- 
 ed a large detachment of his army, under the 
 command of major general Lee, to fortify the 
 place, and render it as far as possible capable 
 of defence. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 181 
 
 On the part of Great Britain, the campaign 
 of 1776, was opened with great preparation and 
 pomp; and presented, from its commencement, 
 an aspect truly formidable to liberty. Including 
 the army and navy, which acted in concert, the 
 royal forces, regular, veteran, and well provided, 
 amounted to fifty thousand men. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, that, before the actual 
 commencement of hostilities, in this campaign, 
 general Howe, and his brother, admiral Howe, 
 who commanded, at the time, the British fleet, 
 attempted to open, in the capacity of civil com- 
 missioners, a negotiation with general Washing- 
 ton, with a view to effectuate a peace, and a re- 
 union of the revolted colonies to the mother 
 country. 
 
 Introducing the business, they sent to him, 
 under the protection of a flag, a letter, addressed 
 to " George Washington, Esq." This he 
 promptly refused to receive, because it did not 
 recognize the title appertaining to his rank; 
 observing at the same time, that, although it was 
 not his practice to " sacrifice essentials to punc- 
 tilio, yet, in this instance, he deemed it a duty to 
 his country, to insist on that respect, which, in 
 any other than a public view, he would willingly 
 have waved." 
 
 Soon afterwards, adjutant general Patterson, 
 of the British army, arrived at the American 
 head quarters, bearing a letter from general 
 Howe, addressed to " George Washington, &,c. 
 &c. &c." 
 
 After presenting himself to the commander in 
 Q 
 
182 LIFE or WASHINGTON. 
 
 chief, with many civil and complimentary ex- 
 pressions, the royal messenger ventured to hope, 
 that the address of the letter he bore would be 
 satisfactory, inasmuch as the et cceteras it con- 
 tained, might be considered as implying every 
 thing. This courtly exordium was accompanied 
 with an assurance, that, by such a procedure, 
 the commissioners of his Britannic majesty, 
 meant no disrespect to the American command^ 
 er; but, that they entertained for him, personal- 
 ly, the highest regard. 
 
 General Washington replied in substance, 
 that he perceived, in the address of the letter, 
 110 recognition of his military rank, or public 
 station; " that it was true, the et cceteras implied 
 everything, but they also implied any thing; and 
 that he should, therefore, decline the receiving 
 any letter, directed to him, as a private person, 
 when it related to his public station.'^ 
 
 In a conference which ensued, the adjutant 
 general observed, that the British commissioners 
 were clothed with great powers, and would be 
 exceedingly happy, in effecting an accommoda- 
 tion. The sententious reply was, " that, from 
 what appeared, their powers were only to grant 
 pardons; and that they who had committed no 
 fault, wanted no pardon." 
 
 In the present campaign, hostihties did not 
 commence until the month of August. 
 
 To cope with the powerful and veteran arms 
 of Britain, which were posted on Long and Sta- 
 ten islands, Washington's whole command did 
 not exceed twenty-seven thousand men. Of 
 
XIFE 0¥ WASHINGTON. 183 
 
 these, two-thirds were mihtia, and one-fourth of 
 the whole were on the sick hst. 
 
 By unremitting vigilance and exertion, in su- 
 perintending every thing, in person; and by a 
 series of wise preparatory measures, he had 
 endeavoured, from the commencement of the 
 season, to mature his troops for vigorous action. 
 
 A system of strict discipline was introduced 
 into the army; an attempt was made to awaken 
 the patriotism, pride, and domestic feelings of 
 the soldiery and officers, by some of the most 
 eloquent and touching addresses, that were ever 
 penned; and, to operate on their fears, as well 
 as on the nobler feelings of their nature, orders 
 were given, to shoot, on the spot, every one who 
 should shrink from his duty in battle. 
 
 So excellently were the American forces post- 
 ed and arranged, that, although greatly superior 
 in numbers and discipline, the enemy were for 
 a time, exceedingly cautious in commencing, 
 their operations. 
 
 At length, on the S7th of August, a memora- 
 ble battle was fought on Long island; in which, 
 a large body of Americans, under the command 
 of general Sullivan, was every where defeated 
 with great slaughter. In the actual command 
 of this affair, general Washington had no 
 concern. 
 
 Perceiving, however, that the fortune of the 
 day was fearfully against him, he passed, in per- 
 son, over the East river, with a view to check 
 the advance of the victorious enemy, until his 
 troops could be withdrawn entirely from the 
 
184 LTFE OF WASHINGTOIf. 
 
 island. This he effected, with a degree of abili- 
 ty and skill, which would, alone, have designated 
 him a great commander. 
 
 The two armies were within musket shot of 
 each other, with a shght eminence between them; 
 the width of the East river is about half a mile; 
 and the number of troops to be transported over 
 it was nine thousand, with their baggage, tents, 
 and field artillery. 
 
 With such address was the movement con- 
 ducted, that the retreat was completed before 
 the enemy suspected its commencement. Wash- 
 ington superintended, in person, the whole trans- 
 action. During the performance of these du- 
 ties, he was forty-eight hours without sleep, with 
 but little refreshment, and on horseback the 
 principal part of the time. 
 
 In this secret transportation of his troops, he 
 was aided by a dark night, a fair wind, and a 
 heavy fog in the morning, which completely co- 
 vered him from the view of the enemy. 
 
 To be satisfied that nothing was left undone, 
 he remained until the army, and all its baggage 
 and equipments, were removed from the Long 
 island shore, and embarked himself in the last 
 boat. 
 
 Not long after this, an affair occurred, on 
 York island, in which, for a moment, the fall of 
 Washington appeared inevitable. 
 
 Stung to the soul, by two instances of das- 
 tardly and disgraceful conduct in detachments 
 of the American soldiery; beheving that, in such 
 troops, no confidence could be safely reposed; 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 185 
 
 that, from their want of firmness, the cause of 
 freedom would be lost, he himself dishonoured, 
 and the yoke of servitude rivetted on his country, 
 perhaps, for ages — driven to desperation by such 
 prospects, his habitual calmness and equanimity 
 forsook him, and, in the rear of his fugitive bat- 
 talions, he intentionally exposed himself to the 
 fire of the enemy, in the hope that a ball might 
 terminate his life, and save him the agony of 
 surviving, for a moment, the liberties of his 
 country. 
 
 But, as on former occasions, to preserve him 
 for ulterior and higher purposes, a protecting 
 Providence appeared to be around him, until by 
 dint of importunity, amounting to indirect vio- 
 lence, his aids succeeded in removing him from 
 danger. 
 
 The American commancfer next presents him- 
 self under circumstances much more disastrous, 
 and in a conjunction of affairs, more gloomy 
 and portentous than any that had preceded. 
 
 We find him at the head of an army reduced 
 in numbers to one-fourth of its original amount, 
 in want of provisions, unclad, and without tents, 
 although winter had commenced, suffering from 
 sickness, and broken-spirited from defeat and 
 misfortune. We find him thus, retreating 
 through the state of New Jersey, before lord 
 Cornvvallis, by far the ablest of the British offi- 
 cers, at the jiead of an overwhelming force, 
 healthy, flushed with victory, and supplied with 
 the necessaries and munitions of war. Add to 
 this, that the American people, in all parts of 
 Q 2 
 
186 XIFE OF MASHllNGTON. 
 
 the country, were beginning to despond, and 
 even the bravest were ahnost ready to abandon 
 the contest, and stipulate terms of safety with 
 the conqueror. 
 
 In this state of things, and a more cheerless 
 and threatening one can scarcely be imagined, 
 the soul of Washington, if not actually serene, 
 was calm, steady, and undismayed: he was, li- 
 terally, the stay and support of his army. With- 
 out his spirits to sustain it, and the point of at- 
 traction he formed in the midst of it, in conse- 
 quence of the love and veneration it bore him, 
 an utter and immediate dissolution of it would 
 have ensued. 
 
 It was at this gloomy conjuncture of Ameri- 
 can affairs, that, to the joy and astonishment of 
 his bleeding and almost subjugated country, the 
 full extent of his resources as a commander 
 burst forth at once as the brightness of the sun 
 from the bosom of an eclipse. 
 
 On the 25th of December, the weather being 
 extremely cold, the British and American forces 
 were separated only by the river Delaware, the 
 former being encamped in three divisions on the 
 Jersey shore, at Trenton, Bordenton and Bur- 
 lington; the latter, on the Pennsylvania shore, 
 immediately opposite, to watch their movements, 
 and act accordingly. "Now," said Washing- 
 ton, " is the time to clip their wings, when they 
 are so widely spread." At the head of a de- 
 tachment of about 2400 Americans, many of 
 them militia, he projected an attack on the post 
 
IIFE OF WASHINGTON. 187 
 
 at Trenton, consisting of 1500 Hessians, and a 
 small squadron of British horse. 
 
 The passage of the intervening stream, swol- 
 len and rapid from a late fall of rain, and filled 
 with large masses of floating ice, presented an 
 enterprise dangerous and appalling. But no- 
 thing could intimidate the soul, or shake the de- 
 liberate resolution of Washington, who, in the 
 present instance, had successfully infused his 
 spirit into his troops. The perils of the river 
 were entirely forgotten in the glory anticipated 
 on its eastern bank. 
 
 Early in the evening of Christmas day the de- 
 tachment was in motion, but such were the dif- 
 ficulties and delays of their passage of the Dela- 
 ware, that they were not ready until 4 o'clock 
 of the following morning to take up their march 
 on the Jersey shore. 
 
 Divided into two columns, one of which was 
 led by the commander in chief, they advanced 
 in silence on the post of the enemy, attacked it 
 almost at the same moment, and, after a short 
 resistance, carried it with a very slight loss, 
 killing and capturing about 900 men. 
 
 To the British, who had heretofore been vic- 
 torious in every thing, this was not only an un- 
 expected, but a heavy and a mortifying stroke; to 
 the Americans it was the day-star of reviving 
 hope. It convinced the former that they were 
 not invincible; and the latter, that they were 
 able to fight and conquer. 
 
 On the evening of the same day, Washington 
 returned to the Pennsylvania side of the river, 
 
188 LIFE OF WASIIINGTOX. 
 
 for the safe-keeping of his prisoners, and hav- 
 ing disposed of them in places of security, with 
 orders to treat them with great kindness, re- 
 crossed into Jersey, and took a position in the 
 village of Trenton. 
 
 To retrieve the loss, and efface the stain 
 which the royal arms had experienced in the 
 capture of the Hessians, lord Cornwallis, as- 
 sembling the whole of his forces at Princeton, 
 moved towards the encampment of the Ameri- 
 cans, with a view to compel them to an imme- 
 diate action. 
 
 It was essential that Washington should avoid 
 this, as he was by far too feeble to meet his ad- 
 versary in open combat; yet, to do it by a re- 
 treat, would hazard the city of Philadelphia, 
 and check the reviving hope and confidence 
 with which his late success had inspired his 
 countrymen. He resolved, therefore, in a coun- 
 cil of his officers, on another high and daring 
 adventure. 
 
 On the evening of the 2d of January, 1777, 
 the two hostile armies found themselves posted 
 within the village of Trenton, separated only by 
 a small stream of water; the Americans having 
 in their rear the river Delaware, swollen with a 
 fresh, filled with floating ice, and therefore of 
 difficult passage, and the British forces within 
 musket shot in their front, lord Cornwallis felt 
 assured that they could not now escape, but 
 would be compelled of necessity to meet him in 
 battle. Under this persuasion he encamped for 
 the night, determined on action early in the 
 
LITE OF WASHINGTON. 189 
 
 morning. The Americans also pitched their 
 tentSj and kindled fires, as preparatory to 
 repose. 
 
 But, in a situation so perilous, when enter- 
 prise invited him, Washington had other views 
 than that of rest. At Princeton, ten miles in 
 the rear of the enemy, w as posted a large de- 
 tachment of British troops. To attack this by 
 surprise, not to encounter the main body, was 
 now the object of the American commander. 
 
 The better to conceal his movements, and 
 prevent suspicion, he appointed a guard, to 
 keep the fires burning, and, within hearing of 
 the British sentinels, to counterfeit the duties of 
 military watch. These arrangements being 
 made, he took up, in silence, about the hour of 
 midnight, the line of march, and passing unno- 
 ticed the left flank of the enemy, reached their 
 post at Princeton a little before sunrise. 
 
 The conflict which ensued was severe and 
 sanguinary. The Philadelphia militia being 
 placed in front, fell back on receiving the Bri- 
 tish fire, and were on the point of producing 
 confusion among the regulars. The moment 
 was critical — pregnant perhaps with the fate of 
 freedom. Perceiving that every thing was at 
 stake, Washington advanced in person to\^ards 
 the British line, regardless of the bullets that 
 were flying around him, and authoritatively 
 called on his troops to follow him. 
 
 Tile movement was decisive. Seeing their 
 venerated commander in danger, and determined 
 to support him or perish in the attempt, the mi- 
 
190 LIFE OF M ASHINGTOX. 
 
 litia halted, and returned the enemy's Are, 
 while the regulars rushed to the charge with a 
 spirit that bore down all opposition. After a 
 short resistance the British fled from tlie field, 
 and were pursued by the Americans for several 
 hours. 
 
 The loss of the enemy in killed, wounded, 
 and prisoners, amounted to six hundred; the 
 Americans had sixty-four killed, and about one 
 hundred and twenty wounded. Among the for- 
 mer was tiie gallant general Mercer. 
 
 So con)pletely in this affair did general Wash- 
 ington elude the vigilance of the enemy in Tren- 
 ton, that they were preparing in the morning to 
 attack him in his encampment at that place, 
 when they heard the report of his cannon at 
 Piinceton. 
 
 In his march by night on this occasion, it is 
 difficult to resist the belief that Washington 
 acted under a special Providence. 
 
 For a few days previously the weather having 
 been warm and rainy, the roads were so deep 
 and heavy as to be scarcely practicable for ar- 
 tillery and wagons. But on the evening of the 
 2d, several hours before the Americans moved 
 from their position, the clonds were dispersed, 
 the wind shifted to the northwest, and the cold 
 became so severe as suddenly to freeze the 
 roads, and render them passable with ease and 
 expedition. This occurrence, common and 
 without weight as it may appear to many, had 
 no small influence on the affairs of America. It 
 strengthened confidence, and augmented exer- 
 
l.IFE OF WASHINGTON. 191 
 
 tioii, by inducing the pious, very generally, to 
 believe, that it was a manifest token of the 
 smiles of Heaven on the arms of freedom. 
 
 It is not extravagant to assert, that the victo- 
 ries of Trenton and Princeton were decisive of 
 the issue of the existing war. They procured 
 for the United States the alliance of France and 
 the friendship of other powers, and by convin- 
 cing the American people of the competency of 
 their armies, encouraged them to endure priva- 
 tions and persevere in the contest. 
 
 But, under Providence, Washington was the 
 author of these victories; to him, therefore, with 
 the same limitation, we are compelled to attri- 
 bute the ultimate achievement of the indepen- 
 dence of America. 
 
 Retiring now with his suffering army into 
 winter quarters, he made so judicious an ar- 
 rangement of posts, as to prevent his troops 
 from being attacked or insulted by superior 
 numbers, and at the same time to protect the 
 country from the depredations of the enemy. 
 
 The campaign of 1 777 opened in New Jersey 
 with a fair trial of military skill between the Ame- 
 rican and British commanders; the former deter- 
 mined to avoid, the latter to bring on, a general 
 action. In this contest Washington manifested 
 a great superiority. Without either retreating 
 or sheltering himself behind his works, he moved 
 so circumspectly, and selected his positions 
 with such consummate judgment, that his ad- 
 versary, although possessed of nearly treble his 
 force, did not dare to attack him. So vigilant 
 
1U2 LUK OF WASlll^GT^'ON. 
 
 and active too were his scouts and small detach- 
 inentSj that the British foraging parties could 
 rarely penetrate into the country to any distance 
 from their main body without being assaulted, 
 and frequently captured. 
 
 Battled in his attempts against the American 
 army, and dreading the elfects of some new and 
 successful enterprise of Washington, general 
 Howe embarked in the month of July with his 
 whole army, and touched first at Halifax, sailed 
 afterwards to the south, and landed at the head 
 of the Chesapeake bay about the middle of Au- 
 gust. The capture of Philadelphia was now his 
 object. 
 
 To prevent this if possible, to gratify what he 
 knew to be the expectation of his country, and 
 in obedience to the express desire of Congress, 
 rather than from the dictates of his own judg- 
 ment, Washington, on the ttth of September, 
 fought the celebrated battle of Brandywine. 
 
 This was not only the most general, but from 
 the amount of what was staked on it, the most 
 important action, that had occurred since the 
 commencement of the war. 
 
 Although the eifective force of the American 
 commander was considerably inferior to that of 
 the British, victory appeared, at one moment, 
 to be within his grasp, by means of a daring 
 movement which he was on the point of execut- 
 ing; but, from false intelligence at that instant 
 brought to him, which had the effect of produc- 
 ing a momentary delay, the opportunity for ac- 
 tion was lost, and with it the chance of victory. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 193 
 
 Bat the misfortune of the day detracted no- 
 thing from the reputation of Washington. From 
 a conviction that he had done every tiling with- 
 in the scope of the means at his disposal to de- 
 serve success, the confidence of his country in 
 him remained unshaken. So indefatigable and 
 effective were his exertions to repair whatever 
 disasters he had sustained, that he even at- 
 tained, in public estimation, a higher standing. 
 He, whose firmness appeared to be augmented 
 by defeat, was deemed invincible. To convince 
 the American people, that neither his own nor 
 the spirit of his army was in the slightest degree 
 broken by the affair of Brandywine, he shortly 
 afterwards offered battle, which general Hovt^e 
 thought proper to decline. 
 
 The enemy was now in possession of Phila- 
 delphia, with a strong division as an advanced 
 guard in the village of Germantown. 
 
 That post general Washington attempted to 
 carry by assault on the 4th of October. 
 
 For a time the action was desperate and 
 bloody. The attack was planned with the 
 judgment of a great captain; but the several di- 
 visions of the assailants being prevented from 
 acting in concert by the fogginess of the morn- 
 ing which obscured their vision, and other ac- 
 cidents occurring, from the irregular movements 
 of bodies of troops but imperfectly disciplined, 
 the enterprise, which promised at its com- 
 mencement a glorious issue, proved unsuc- 
 cessful. 
 
 For his noble daring; however, on this occa- 
 
 R 
 
194 I.IFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 sion; the wisdom of his measures, which the 
 fortune of war prevented him from accomphsh- 
 ing; the fortitude with which he met disaster, 
 and his abundant resources manifested in re- 
 pairing it; for his " great good conduct" in the 
 whole affair, Washington received from Con- 
 gress a vote of thanks. 
 
 Shortly after the battle of Germantown, ano- 
 ther trial of skill in military movement occurred 
 between him and general Howe in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Whitemarsh. In this, as in a for- 
 mer instance, the latter was surpassed; and, to 
 escape the effect of some deep-laid scheme of 
 adventure, returned precipitately to his post in 
 Philadelphia, without effecting any of the ob- 
 jects for which he had left it. 
 
 The succeeding winter, general Washington 
 passed in winter quarters at the Valley Forge. 
 While here he was assailed with whatever could 
 distress, embarrass and disgust. An army naked, 
 unpaid, frequently almost in a state of famine, 
 and at times of mutiny; a Congress shattered in 
 its energies, and slow and enfeebled in its mea- 
 sures by division and discord; and a malignant 
 faction plotting his deposition from the supreme 
 command — these were some of the evils which, 
 during the winter of 1777-8, tried the patience 
 and firmness of Washington. But they could 
 not subdue him. 
 
 For the wants of his army, he provided, con- 
 sidering his means, to the utmost extent of what 
 humanity could perform: into Congress he en- 
 deavoured, somewhat successfully, to infuse a 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. J 95 
 
 spirit of unanimity, by awakening their patriot- 
 ism, and faithfully portraying to them the dan- 
 gers of their country: and, to the machinations 
 of those who were meditating his degradation, 
 he opposed, in silence, the rectitude of his views, 
 the services he had performed, and the unsullied 
 purity and weight of his reputation. None of 
 their secret insinuations did he deign to notice; 
 to none of their open accusations, did he conde- 
 scend to reply. 
 
 In every thing he had the peculiar felicity to 
 triumph. His troops were kept in service, and 
 restrained from mutinous conduct, by their at- 
 tachment to his person, and their gratitude for 
 his paternal cares, and unremitting exertions to 
 provide for their wants; Congress adopted many 
 of the salutary measures he recommended for 
 the defence of the country; and the party of 
 malcontents, who were bent on his overthrow, 
 frustrated in all their schemes of intrigue, sunk 
 beneath the weight of public odium, and the 
 secret reproaches of offended conscience. 
 
 With the return of spring opened the cam- 
 paign of 1 7 78, the British, now under the com- 
 mand of sir Henry Clinton, within their lines, 
 the Americans in well selected positions around 
 them. Having been, for some time, in the con- 
 dition, and suffering most of the inconveniences 
 of an actual siege, the former were induced, on 
 the 17th and 18th of June, to abandon Philadel- 
 phia, and march towards the north. 
 
 In their retreat through New Jersey, general 
 Washington galled them exceedingly, by press- 
 
196 LIFE or WASHINGTON. 
 
 ing on their rear, and was anxious to compel 
 them to a general engagement. In this he was 
 opposed by a majority of his officers. Indulg- 
 ing, however, his disposition to enterprise, be- 
 cause he now thought his effective force but 
 httle inferior to that of his adversary, and as- 
 suming to himself the entire responsibility in 
 relation to the event, he adopted such measures 
 as effected his purpose. 
 
 On the 28th of June, he brought the enemy 
 to action, on the plains of Monmouth. After a 
 day of sanguinary conflict, and a scene of fatigue 
 which proved mortal, of itself, to many of the 
 soldiers, night suspend|d4heir operations, and 
 the troops, on both si|K rested on their arms, 
 on the field of battle. ^^ 
 
 General Washington, himself, in the midst of 
 his soldiers, the earth, spread with his cloak, 
 his bed, the root of a large tree his pillow, and 
 its branches his only covering from the heavens, 
 reposed a few hours, resolved on a renewal of 
 battle in the morning. But in this he was dis- 
 appointed by an unexpected measure, dictated 
 by the prudence of the British commander. 
 
 Crippled by the combat of the preceding day, 
 and dreading some more 'serious disaster on the 
 next, general Clinton retreated in the night in 
 such perfect silence, that the American senti- 
 nels, posted within musket shot of his lines, were 
 ignorant of his movement. 
 
 Content with the advantage he had already 
 gained, and willing to indulge his soldiers in a 
 longer repose, after a day of such excessive fa- 
 
tIFE OF WASHIXGTON. 
 
 tigue, general Washington declined the pursuit 
 of his vanquished adversary. 
 
 The Americans lost in this engagement, in 
 killed and wounded, two hundred and fifty men; 
 the British, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 
 three hundred and fifty. 
 
 During tlie remainder of the present cam- 
 paign, and the whole of those of 1779 and 1780, 
 it was not the fortune of the commander in chief 
 to be personally concerned in any \ery splendid 
 military achievement. But his great and patri- 
 otic mind was not the less actively or usefully 
 engaged, in superintending the highest interests 
 of his country. 
 
 His correspondence alone, during this period, 
 with Congress, the governors of states, and the 
 generals and other officers, commanding divi- 
 sions, detachments, and posts, would seem to be 
 more than the business of an individual. But, 
 to a man of a vigorous and practical intellect, 
 who recognizes no value in time, except the 
 useful employment of it, a sphere of duties too 
 extensive for performance, can scarcely be pre- 
 sented. 
 
 The war had raged for some time in the 
 south. From that quarter, lord Cornwallis, in 
 1781, at the head of an army of ten thousand 
 chosen troops, advanced towards the middle 
 states, and, about the close of the summer, took 
 post in Yorktown, in the state of Virginia. 
 Sir Henry Clinton, with a strong gamson under 
 his command, was in possession of New York.. 
 General Washington, with a combined army of 
 r2 
 
198 LIFE OF AVASHINGTON. 
 
 Americans and French, was preparing to lay 
 siege to that city, and admiral count De Crasse. 
 arriving from France with a powerful fleet, 
 took command of the waters of the Chesapeake 
 Bay. 
 
 Here was an excellent state of things, for a 
 grand display of mihtary pohcy. Nor did Wash- 
 ington suffer the opportunity to pass unimproved. 
 
 Having succeeded, by means of an intercepted 
 letter, in coiivincing the British commander, in 
 New York, of his fixed determination to besiege 
 that garrison^ he moved by easy marches to the 
 south, with a view to operate against lord Corn- 
 wallis; and was so far on his route, before his 
 actual intentions were fathomed by general Clin- 
 ton, that no impediment could be thrown in his 
 way by that officer. Thus did he again evince 
 a manifest superiority in military skill. 
 
 On the 28th of September, general Washing- 
 ton, at the head of 16,000 French and Ameri- 
 can troops, made a regular investure of York- 
 town, where lord Cornwallis lay strongly forti- 
 fied. Count de Grasse, at the same time, so 
 completely obstructed all access by water, that 
 through that channel his lordship could neither 
 escape nor receive succour. 
 
 Thus commenced the celebrated siege, which 
 terminated on the 19th October, in the surren- 
 der of lord Cornwallis and his whole army. 
 Every important measure and movement con- 
 nected with it, passed under the immediate in- 
 spection of Washington. The entire scheme of 
 the campaign was his; and never, perhaps, in 
 
I^IFE OF AVASlilXGTON. 199 
 
 any age or country, has one been devised with 
 more wisdom, or executed with a sounder judg- 
 ment. 
 
 For the excellence of their conduct on this 
 occasion, general Washington, with his officers 
 and soldiers, received the unanimous thanks of 
 Congress. 
 
 This was the last achievement of arms in 
 which it was his fortune to be ever engaged. In 
 itself it was brilliant; in its consequences most 
 important. It gave peace to his country; shed 
 a higher lustre on the American name; and, in 
 relation to himself, completed his reputation as 
 a great captain. 
 
 In the winter of 1781-2, when the American 
 troops lay in quarters on the North river, a spirit 
 of wild discontent began to prevail among them, 
 in consequence of Congress withholding from 
 them the arrearages of their pay. The embers 
 of revolt, which were glowing already, were, at 
 one moment, near being blown into a devouring 
 flame, by some artful and eloquent letters from 
 an unknown pen, circulated among the officers, 
 as well as the soldiery, urging them by all the 
 motives to action, arising out of suffering, beg- 
 gary, and scorn, to appeal from the justice to 
 the fears of Congress, and assert their claims, 
 if longer refused, at the point of the bayonet. 
 
 At this most critical and eventful conjuncture, 
 when the sword of civil war seemed half un- 
 sheathed, Washington was again the protector of 
 his country. Assembling around him his field 
 officers and captains, he addressed them, in a 
 
:iOO XIFE OF WASUIKGTOX. 
 
 strain of patriotic eloquence, wliich proved irre- 
 sistible. Keen as were their present sufferings, 
 and gloomy their future prospects, as anticipated 
 poverty, with its distressing effects and galling 
 concomitants could render them, they became, 
 for the moment, insensible to them all, and 
 passed, before dispersing, a unanimous resolu- 
 tion, to refrain from violent measures themselves, 
 to discountenance it in others, and, for the set- 
 tlement of their claims to trust to the justice of 
 Congress and their country. It was the personal 
 influence of the commander in chief, the love 
 and veneration his officers bore him, much more 
 than any other consideration, that gained for 
 patriotism a triumph so glorious. 
 
 On the conclusion of peace, which soon after- 
 wards took place, Washington, to preserve un- 
 sullied the reputation of the soldiery, and pre- 
 vent the mischiefs that might result from law- 
 less combinations of them, still in possession of 
 their arms, adopted principles in the disbanding 
 of his army which manifested in him great judg- 
 ment, and a profound knowledge of human na- 
 ture. 
 
 Having passed a few days in New York, he 
 took a solemn and affecting leave of his officers, 
 who had fondly lingered around him for the pur- 
 pose; and proceeded to Annapolis, in Maryland, 
 where Congress was in session, to resign his 
 -commission into the hands that had bestowed it. 
 
 In passing through Philadelphia, he exhibited 
 to the comptroller of accounts, a statement, in 
 his own hand writing, of all his expenditures, as 
 
XIFE OF WASHINGTON. 201 
 
 commander in chief, during an eight years war. 
 Including secret service money, they amoimted 
 to 14,476/. 18s. 9rf. sterling; a sum greatly be- 
 low the privileges of his rank, and inconceivably 
 disproportioned to the good it had been instru- 
 mental in procuring for his country. 
 
 The scene of his resignation, at Annapolis, of 
 the supreme command of the armies of his 
 country, was august and moving. He accom- 
 panied it with an eloquent and impressive con- 
 gratulatory address, on the achievement of inde- 
 pendence and the conclusion of peace, which 
 was reciprocated in a suitable and dignified re- 
 ply by the president of Congress. Although he 
 thus voluntarily, and with sentiments of peculiar 
 gratification, laid aside the character of the high- 
 est officer of the United States, it was not in his 
 power to divest himself of that of her foremost 
 citizen. The former attribute having been be- 
 stowed on him by man, was accidental and tem- 
 porary; the latter, being the gift of Heaven, was 
 incorporated in his nature, and lasting as his 
 existence. 
 
 Happy in himself, from a recollection of the 
 labours and dangers he had passed, and an anti- 
 cipation of future tranquillity and enjoyment: 
 an object of the love and admiration of his coun- 
 try; the idol of the officers and soldiers he had 
 commanded; and, bearing with him the grati- 
 tude and blessings of a liberated people, he now 
 withdrew to his seat on the Potomac, and resumed 
 his domestic and agricultural pursuits, resolvedj- 
 never again to mingle in the tumults, or encoun- 
 ter the solicitudes of public fife. 
 
202 XirE or WASHINGTOxV. 
 
 But from this determination future events 
 compelled him, from a sense of duty, to depart. 
 Endowed with every requisite to lead in civil, no 
 less than in military life, his country had not yet 
 received from him all the services he was quali- 
 fied to perform. Contrary, therefore, to what he 
 once considered an inflexible resolution, he felt 
 himself again obligated to obey her call, and 
 exchange, for her welfare, the retirement he 
 loved, for the toils and responsibility of public 
 station. 
 
 We accordingly find him by the unanimous 
 suffrage of his colleagues, president of the con- 
 vention of delegates, which met in Philadelphia 
 in the year 1 787, with a view to strengthen and 
 render more effective the federal union, and the 
 deliberations of which resulted in the formation 
 of our present constitution. 
 
 On the adoption of that instrument by the 
 several states, the eyes of America and Europe 
 were instinctively turned to him as the first pre- 
 sident. 
 
 He did not, however, consent to serve in that 
 capacity, until after much and very serious deli- 
 beration. But urged by letters from all quarters, 
 and convinced, at length, that duty imperiously 
 demanded of him the sacrifice, he suffered him- 
 self to be nominated for the office, which was 
 conferred on him by the unanimous vote of the 
 electors. Thus, singular in every thing, it was 
 not even permitted him to shun the public hon- 
 ours in the gift of his fellow citizens, although 
 he exerted himself as zealously to avoid being 
 
LIFE or WASHINGTON. 203 
 
 invested with them as other individuals do to 
 obtain them. 
 
 The first Congress under the federal consti- 
 tution, met in New York on the 4th of March 
 1789. 
 
 On his way thither to be inducted into the 
 office of chief magistrate, Washington was re- 
 ceived at the towns and cities through which he 
 had to pass, with all the marks of honour and 
 distinction a grateful and enlightened people 
 could bestow. Gratulatory addresses were every 
 where presented to him. The streets and high- 
 ways were thronged with exulting and admi- 
 ring thousands, anxious to behold the elect of 
 his country. Triumphal arches were erected 
 for him, and the materials of which they were 
 composed preserved as relics of invaluable 
 worth; crowns of laurel were placed on his head, 
 by machinery ingeniously constructed for the 
 purpose: odes, composed for the occasion and 
 commemorative of his high and heroic achieve- 
 ments, were chanted in his presence; the aged 
 approached him with their prayers and benedic- 
 tions; and, by the hands of innocence, youth and 
 beauty, flowers were collected and strewed in 
 the way. 
 
 Never, in honour of any individual, did the 
 world, as is firmly believed, behold a burst of joy 
 so universal, so exquisite, and so sincere. To 
 kings and emperors, the homage of their sub- 
 jects is ostentatious and loud; but, as if paid to 
 them in mockery, it is cold, counterfeit, and fo- 
 reign from the affections. That to Washington, 
 
204 LIVE. Of "\V ASHINGTOJi. 
 
 from his fellow citizens and countrymen, being 
 an offering of unfeigned veneration, was sponta- 
 neous, genuine, and warm from the heart. 
 
 This representation of the scenes that occur- 
 red, although to some, perhaps, it may appear 
 exaggerated, if not fictitious, is short of reality. 
 No language can competently picture the ex- 
 uberance of rejoicing, heightened by the play of 
 the nobler affections, and constituting a perfect 
 jubilee of soul, which the great and interesting 
 event excited. 
 
 Having been invested with the office of chief 
 magistrate, with the forms and solemnities suita- 
 ble to the occasion, he entered, without delay, 
 on the arduous and responsible duties appertain- 
 ing to it. 
 
 The organization of a government for a great 
 and growing empire, where conflicting interests 
 are to be reconciled and provided for; where, at 
 home, the spirit of freedom is to be fostered and 
 confirmed, yet restrained from passing to the ex- 
 treme of licentiousness; to establish foreign re- 
 lations with nations formidable in arms, skilled 
 in diplomacy, and ambitious of power and wealth, 
 without being scrupulous as to the means of at- 
 taining them; to institute a scheme of I'evenue, 
 sufficiently productive, yet not oppressive: to se- 
 lect individuals, at so portentous a conjuncture, 
 qualified to fill the offices of state: these are some 
 of the high functions, in all of which it became 
 now the province of Washington to co-operate, 
 in many of them to direct; and it must be con- 
 
LIFE OF M ASUINGTON. £03 
 
 fessed, that, for their clue fulfilment, they re- 
 quire an intellect of the highest order, expanded 
 and matured, by all that observation and expe- 
 rience, reflection and study, are calculated to im- 
 part. 
 
 Of the wisdom and policy of the measures of 
 his administration, their felicitous effects on the 
 condition of his country constitute testimony am- 
 ple and conclusive. 
 
 Industry, in every shape, began immediately 
 to revive and be invigorated. Commerce became 
 active; agriculture prosperous; the sphere of arts 
 and manufactures were extended; and literature 
 and science began to flourish. 
 
 For an analysis of his administration, sufficient 
 space cannot be allowed in this sketch. It may 
 be permitted, however, briefly to observe, that 
 the hostile tribes of Indians on our western 
 frontiers, were subdued or concihated; existing 
 difficulties with foreign nations were honourably 
 adjusted; public credit was restored; treaties of 
 amity and commerce were formed, on advanta- 
 geous terms; and, as the result of the whole, the 
 country was peaceful, prosperous and happy. 
 
 Of the administration of Washington, we may 
 truly say, with a late writer, that it was " found- 
 ed in justice, organized by wisdom, directed by 
 virtue, and guarded by honour. Abroad it could 
 not fail to command respect, nor to be productive 
 of extensive utility at home. It was a spectacle 
 in political ethics, worthy to fix the attention and 
 command the admiration of the rulers of nations. 
 Ministers might be instructed by it in the art of 
 
 s 
 
206 IIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 governing, and monarchs learn how to give 
 splendour and stability to thrones. For the libe- 
 rality of its views, the soundness of its principles, 
 the correctness of its details, and the dignitied 
 grandeur and firmness of its march, it was a chef 
 d'ouvre of human achievement." 
 
 The close of the second constitutional period 
 of his administration terminated the presidential 
 career of Washington. Although assured, from 
 all quarters, of easy success, should he consent 
 to continue in the service of his country, he re- 
 solutely declined being again considered a can- 
 didate for the office. Of him may be said, 
 what is not, perhaps, true of any other mortal, 
 that, after a trial of eight years, during a most 
 stormy period of the world, when difficulties 
 pressed on him from every direction, he retired 
 from a station derived from the people, and 
 supreme in responsibility and care, his reputa- 
 tion without a stain, and the confidence of his 
 constituents in him undiminished. 
 
 On this occasion, like a father retiring from 
 the superintendence of his family, he took leave 
 of his country in a valedictory address, affection- 
 ate, eloquent, and replete with the soundest poli- 
 tical advice, touching her highest and most vital 
 concerns. 
 
 The political truths contained in this address 
 ought to be engraven upon the hearts of his coun- 
 trymen. In the most earnest manner he called up- 
 on them to cherish an immoveable attachment to 
 the national union, to watch for its preservation 
 with jealous anxiety, to discountenance even the 
 
1-IFE OF WASHINGTON. 207 
 
 suggestion, that it could in any event be aban- 
 doned, and indignantly to frown upon the first 
 dawning of every attempt to ahenate any por- 
 tion of our country from the rest. Overgrown 
 mihtary establishments he represented as par- 
 ticularly hostile to republican liberty. While 
 he recommended the most implicit obedience to 
 the acts of the established government, and re- 
 probated all obstructions to the execution of the 
 laws, all combinations and associations, under 
 whatever plausible character, with the real de- 
 sign to direct, control,, counteract, or awe the 
 regular deliberation and action of the constituted 
 authorities, he wished also to guard against the 
 spirit of innovation upon the principles of the 
 constitution. Aware that the energy of the sys- 
 tem might be enfeebled by alterations, he thought 
 that no change should be made without an evi- 
 dent necessity, and that in so extensive a coun- 
 try, as much vigour as is consistent with liberty 
 is indispensable. On the other hand, he pointed 
 out the danger of a real despotism, by breaking 
 down the partitions between the several depart- 
 ments of government, by destroying the recipro- 
 cal checks, and consolidating the different 
 powers. Against the spirit of party, so peculiarly 
 baneful in an elective government, he uttered 
 his most solemn remonstrances, as well as against 
 inveterate antipathies or passionate attachments 
 in respect to foreign nations. While he thought 
 that the jealousy of a free people ought to be 
 constantly and impartially awake against the in- 
 sidious wiles of foreign influence, he wished that 
 
208 tlFE OF WASHINGTOKT. 
 
 good faith and justice should be observed towards 
 all nations, and peace and harmony cultivated. 
 In his opinion, honesty, no less in public than in 
 private affairs, is always the best policy. Provi- 
 dence, he believed, had connected the perma- 
 nent felicity of a nation with its virtue. Other 
 subjects, to which he alluded, were the im- 
 portance of credit, of economy, the reduction of 
 the public debt, and of literary institutions; 
 above all, he recommended religion and morahty 
 as indispensably necessary to political prosperity. 
 "In vain," says he, "would that man claim the 
 tribute of patriotism, who should labour to sub- 
 vert these great pillars of human happiness, 
 these firmest props of the duties of men and 
 citizens." 
 
 Bequeathing these counsels to his country-- 
 men, he continued in office till the 4th March, 
 1797, when he attended the inauguration of his 
 successor, Mr. Adams, and with complacency 
 savi^ him invested with the powers, which had 
 for so long a time been exercised by himself. 
 He then retired to Mount Vernon. 
 
 Notwithstanding his maturity in glory, and 
 weight of years, he again, in 1798, stood pre- 
 pared to emerge from the shades of his chosen 
 retirement, and assume the chief command of 
 the armies of America, against an invasion me- 
 ditated by France; but, peace taking place with- 
 out any attempt on the part of the enemy, he 
 did not actually appear in arms. On accepting, 
 at this time the appointment to supreme com- 
 mand, he stipulated with government not to take 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 
 
 the field unless, from the approach of the foe, 
 his services should be wanted. His willingness 
 to submit to the sacrifice, sustain the privation, 
 encounter the duties, and incur the risk apper- 
 taining to this station, manifests in him a degree 
 of pure, magnanimous, and disinterested patri- 
 otism, which, in the history of man, is no where 
 else to be found. 
 
 We are now approaching to an event that 
 consummated the glory of Washington, by plac- 
 ing it beyond the power of time to diminish br 
 misfortune to tarnish it. 
 
 On Friday, December 13, 1799, while at- 
 tending some improvements upon his estate, he 
 was exposed to a light rain, which wetted his 
 neck and hair. Unapprehensive of danger, he 
 passed the afternoon in his usual manner, but 
 at night he was attacked with an inflammatory 
 affection of the throat. So obstinate, and at the 
 same time, so violent was the disease, that not- 
 withstanding all that medicine could perform, it 
 terminated fatally on the following night. 
 
 His death scene was like his life, calm, in- 
 trepid, full of self possession, and free from 
 complaint. 
 
 Perceiving the inefficacy of medical aid, and 
 convinced from his feehngs that dissolution was 
 approaching, he requested of his friends and at- 
 tendants around him permission to die without 
 further interruption. 
 
 Assent to this request being signified by si- 
 lence and tears, he undressed himself without 
 the least emotion, placed himself in bed in a 
 s2 
 
CIO XIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 suitable attitude, closed his eyes with his own 
 hand, and expired without a struggle or a 
 groan. 
 
 The melancholy event was soon announced 
 in every quarter of the United States. The ma- 
 nifestation of public sorrow was without a paral- 
 lel. Six millions of people felt, on the occasion, 
 the affliction of a family for the loss of a parent. 
 
 Congress was in session in the city of Phila- 
 delphia. No sooner did the rumour of the vi- 
 sitation reach them, than, rendered by the shock 
 unfit for business, they immediately adjourned. 
 
 On the morning of the following day they 
 again met, when the mournful intelligence be- 
 ing fully confirmed, chief justice Marshall, then 
 member of the house of representatives, formally 
 announced the event in a very solenm, impres- 
 sive, and suitable address. 
 
 It was in a resolution, moved by him on the 
 occasion, that in language so forcible, charac- 
 teristic, and correct, suggested to him, as he 
 acknowledged, by general Harry Lee, he pro- 
 nounced the deceased, "first in war, first in 
 peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow citizens." 
 
 Letters of condolence passed between the dif- 
 ferent branches of the government, and, by a 
 unanimous resolution of Congress, a magnificent 
 funeral procession took place the following week, 
 and an eulogy was prepared and pronounced on 
 the occasion by general Lee, of Virginia, com- 
 memorative of the character and achievements 
 of the deceased. 
 
 This was but the commencement of the pub- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 211, 
 
 lie honours that were paid by his country to the 
 memory of Washington. In various other places 
 similar processions were formed, and in every 
 section of the union funeral sermons were 
 preached, eulogies delivered, and elegies writ- 
 ten, until the whole population appeared to 
 unite in one universal offering of homage to the 
 man, who had given to them independence, 
 freedom, and a government. 
 
 Nor did Europe withhold her tribute of praise. 
 Some of the ablest pens and most eloquent 
 tongues in that quarter of the globe were liberal 
 in their eulogies on ''the man of the age." 
 While living, no individual ever stood higher in 
 the estimation of the world, nor has received, as 
 I confidently believe, so ample a meed of post- 
 humous applause. 
 
 In his public capacity, Washington may be 
 contemplated in the light of a warrior, a states- 
 man, and a writer. 
 
 In the first he possessed in an eminent degree 
 all the attributes, corporeal and intellectual, re- 
 quisite in a commander of the highest order. 
 
 In his appearance alone he carried the pi'ero- 
 gative of supreme authority. No man could ap- 
 proach him free from sentiments of inferiority 
 and awe. Yet, this did not arise from the 
 sternness of his aspect, or the severity of his 
 manners. It was the result of a combination of 
 majestic qualities which, whether motionless or 
 in action, he uniformly although unconsciously 
 exhibited. 
 
 As a military leader, there exists in history no 
 
212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 name with which he can be aptly and in all res- 
 pects compared. In the happy mixture of deli- 
 berate caution and daring enterprise wiiich he 
 manifested in his character, he appears to have 
 been unique. His fortitude and perseverance 
 were in some respects no less dangerous to his 
 adversary than his courage and address. 
 
 In prudence and foresight he had no superior 
 and but few equals. Notwithstanding the vigi- 
 lant, artful, and able enemies, with whom he 
 had often to contend, he never, when command- 
 ing in person, was surprised, seduced into an 
 ambuscade, or compelled to give battle on dis- 
 advantageous ground. Yet his own success was 
 frequently owing to a sudden and unlooked-for 
 attack on his foe. This circumstance is the 
 more remarkable and worthy to be recorded, 
 seeing that, when but a youth, he often com- 
 manded small parties on the very lines of the 
 enemy, where ambuscade and surprise must 
 have been frequently attempted. 
 
 His firmness and self possession in the midst 
 of disaster, united to the vast extent of his re- 
 sources, enabled him not unfrequently to turn 
 to his advantage even misfortune and defeat. 
 
 But the great strength of his military charac- 
 ter consisted in his singular capacity to blind and 
 liiislead, in relation both to his forces and move- 
 ments, and to adapt his conduct with wonderful 
 precision to the state of his own means and the 
 resources of his enemy. When in a condition 
 to give battle with a prospect of success, no 
 leader ever offered it with a spirit of higher gal- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 213 
 
 iantry, or staked more liberally his reputation 
 and fortunes on the issue of the sword. But, if 
 on a deliberate calculation the chances were 
 against him, no art nor insult — not even the im- 
 patient murmurings and insinuations that he 
 wanted energy of his own party, could force him 
 to engage. In the battle of Brandywine alone 
 did he ever depart from this principle. Even 
 here it was the will of Congress rather than the 
 impatience or importunity of the pubhc that 
 urged him to action. 
 
 It was this capacity, the highest unquestion- 
 ably a commander can possess, that led him with 
 success and glory through the war of the revo- 
 lution. Without it, he would have wasted to no 
 purpose the resources of his country, and ruined 
 by misconduct the cause of freedom. 
 
 As a statesman and a patriot he surpassed all 
 others in the purity of his motives, and in the 
 steadiness, warmth, and disinterestedness of his 
 attachment to his country. No mortal except 
 himself ever served his fellow citizens without 
 emolument or any acquisition of power, for the 
 space of sixteen years, in the most elevated offi- 
 ces in their power to bestow. 
 
 In this capacity his views were liberal, and 
 his knowledge, derived much less from books 
 than from observation, and a thorough acquain- 
 tance with man, was extensive, profound, and 
 altogether practical. He had learned to govern 
 by studying well the nature and character of the 
 beings to be governed. 
 
 Superior to party prejudices and local par*-' 
 
214 LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 
 
 tialities, justice was the basis, and public good 
 the end of his administration. As president of 
 the United States, every section of his country 
 vvas equally an object of his vigilant attention 
 and paternal solicitude. The east and west, and 
 the north and the south, experienced alike the 
 kindness of his heart and the meliorating influ- 
 ence of his great mind. As chief magistrate of 
 tlic nation, the nation and all its interests were 
 his care 
 
 Towards foreign governments, his conduct 
 was regulated by the established principles of in- 
 ternational law. While for their rights and in- 
 terests he cherished and manifested a sacred re- 
 gard, he exacted from them an inviolable observ- 
 ance of a similar conduct towards the United 
 States. In all his transactions, whether domes- 
 tic or foreign, justice, impartiality, and good 
 faith, were conscientiously maintained. He ap- 
 peared to hold himself responsible in his private 
 character for any departure from right as a pub- 
 lic functionary. 
 
 To sciiolarship, in the common acceptation 
 of the term, he had no pretensions. Yet, for 
 talents as a writer on those subjects to which his 
 attention had been directed, he had few equals. 
 In letter writing and public addresses he fur- 
 nished one of the Ingiiest models in the English 
 language. Of all tlie most truly valuable quali- 
 ties of style, perspicuity, purity, strength, and 
 dignity, he was a perfect master. With an ap- 
 titude which characterised him in all things, the 
 tone of his writings rose or fell with tlie greater 
 
LIVE OF WASHINGTON. 21 J 
 
 or less weight and elevation of his subjects. 
 Compared with some of his addresses to his 
 army, those of any other commander at present 
 recollected are barren and feeble. No allusion 
 is here niade to the glowing speeches prepared 
 for certain favourite chiefs by the historians of 
 their campaigns, but to those whicli the leaders 
 themselves h ive produced. Yet it may be safely 
 asserted, that some of the military addresses of 
 W?f3iiington will not suffer in a comparison even 
 wirli the haiangue of Galgacus, liom the pen of 
 Tacitus, the fmest specimen of lield eloquence 
 that antiquity has bequeathed us. 
 
 Analyse the general charactel* of our great 
 countryman, and its principal elements will be 
 found to be, firmness, dignity, strength, and mo- 
 deration, constituting in the aggregate a sublime 
 monument of moral grandeur. With less of 
 brilliancy than falls to the share of many others, 
 it consists of a much greater mass of solid, prac- 
 tical, and useful qualities, and is therefore bet- 
 ter calculated to produce on society a deep feli- 
 citous and enduring effect. 
 
 To attain this moderation his difficulties had 
 been great and his struggles arduous. His pas- 
 sions having been originally modelled on the same 
 scale, and possessed of the same Herculean 
 strength, with the powers of his intellect, to 
 bring them into perfect subjection and rule had 
 cost him the severest conflict of his life. But, 
 as the hardest and most refractory bodies as- 
 sume, when polished, the highest lustre, the 
 calm of his passions, now subdued, was deep 
 
216 I-iFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and ponderous, like tliat of the ocean, which 
 nothing but the force of the tempest can disturb. 
 
 In his private and domestic relations his cha- 
 racter excited in all around him veneration and 
 love. His virtues, as a man, were conformable 
 in lustre to his higher qualities as a first magis- 
 trate and a military chief. 
 
 With a person, six feet two inches in stature, 
 expanded, muscular, of elegant proportions, and 
 unusually graceful in all its movements; a head 
 moulded somewhat on the model of the Grecian 
 antique; features sufficiently prominent for 
 strength or comeliness; a Roman nose, and large 
 blue eyes, deeply thoughtful rather than lively: 
 with these attributes, the appearance of Wash- 
 ington was striking and august. A fine com- 
 plexion being superadded, he was accounted, 
 when young, one of the handsomest of men. 
 
 But his majesty consisted in the expression of 
 his countenance much more than in his comely 
 features, bis lofty person, or his dignified de- 
 portment. It was the emanation of his great 
 spirit through the tenement it occupied. 
 
 Such was Washington ; the champion of free- 
 dom, the glory of his country, the founder and 
 father of a great empire, the pride of modern 
 times, the ornament of tlie human race. 
 
 HENRY. 
 
 Y, governor 
 most eloquent orator, took an early and decided 
 
 Patrick Henry, governor of Virginia, and a 
 
LIFE OF HENRY. 217 
 
 I part hi support of the rights of his country against 
 
 I the tyranny of Great Britain. 
 
 In the year 1 765, he was a member of the as- 
 sembly of Virginia, and introduced some. reso- 
 lutions, which breathed a spirit of hberty, and 
 which were accepted by a small majority, on the 
 29th of May. These were the first resolutions 
 ot any assembly occasioned by the stamp act. 
 One of the resolutions declared, that the general 
 assembly had the exclusive right and power to 
 Jay taxes and impositions upon the inhabitants of 
 the colony. Such was the warmth excited in 
 the debate, that Mr. Henry, according to the re- 
 lation of Mr. Stedham, after declaiming against 
 the arbitrary measures of Great Britain, added, 
 C^sar had his Brutus, Charles the First an 
 
 Uliver Cromwell, and George the Third " 
 
 when he was stopped from proceeding farther 
 and caUed to order. He was elected in the year 
 1774 one of the deputies from Virginia to the 
 nrst Congress, and was in this year one of the 
 committee which drew up the petition to the 
 
 In May, 1775, after lord Dunmore had con- 
 veyed on board a ship a part of the powder from 
 the magazine of Williamsburgh, Mr. Henry dis- 
 tingmshed himself by assembling the indepen- 
 dent companies of Hanover and King William 
 counties, and directing them towards Williams- 
 burgh, with the avowed design of obtaining 
 payment for the powder, or of compelling its 
 restitution. The object was effected, for the 
 king s receiver general gave a bill for the value 
 
218 LIFE OF HENHl. 
 
 of the property. The governor immediately 
 fortified his palace, and issued a proclamation, 
 charging those who had procured the bill with 
 rebellious practices. This only occasioned a 
 number of county meetings, which applauded the 
 conduct of Mr. Henry, and expressed a deter- 
 mination to protect him. In August, 1775, when 
 a new choice of deputies to Congress was made, 
 he was not re-elected, for his services were now 
 demanded more exclusively in his own state. 
 After the departure of lord Dunmore, he was 
 chosen the first governor, in June, 1776, and 
 he held this office several succeeding years, 
 bending all his exertions to promote the freedom 
 and independence of his country. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1778, an anony- 
 mous letter was addressed to him, with a design 
 of alienating his affections from the commander 
 in chief. He enclosed it to Washington, both to 
 evince his friendship, and to put him on his guard. 
 In another letter, written a few days afterwards, 
 when he had heard of a plan to effect the re- 
 moval of Washington, he says to him, " While 
 you face the armed enemies of our liberty in the 
 field, and, by the favour of God, have been kept 
 unhurt, I trust your country will never harbour 
 in her bosom the miscreant, who would ruin her 
 best supporter; but when arts unworthy honest 
 men are used to defame and traduce you, I think 
 it not amiss, but a duty to assure you of that 
 estimation in which the public hold you.''' 
 
 In June, 1778, he was a member, with other 
 illustrious citizensof Virginia, of the convention 
 
LIFJii OF IIENRV. 219 
 
 which was appointed to consider the constitution 
 of the United States; and he exerted all the force 
 of his masterly eloquence, day after day, to pre- 
 vent its adoption. He contended that changes 
 were dangerous to liberty; that the old confedera- 
 tion had carried us through the war, and secured 
 our independence, and needed only amendment; 
 that the proposed government was a consolidated 
 government, in which the sovereignty of the 
 states would be lost, and all pretensions to rights 
 and privileges would be rendered insecure; that 
 the want of a bill of rights was an essential de- 
 fect; that general warrants should have been 
 prohibited; and that to adopt the constitution 
 with a view to subsequent amendments was only 
 submitting to tyranny in the hope of being 
 liberated from it at some future time. He 
 therefore offered a resolution, containing a bill 
 of rights and amendments for the greater secu- 
 rity of liberty and property, to be referred to the 
 other states before the ratification of the pro- 
 posed form of government. His resolution, 
 however, was not adopted. The arguments of 
 Pendleton, Randolph, Madison, and Marshall, 
 prevailed against tlie eloquence of Henry, and the 
 constitution was adopted, though by a small ma- 
 jority. Mr. Henry's bill of rights and his amend- 
 ments were then accepted, and directed to be 
 transmitted to the several states. Some of these 
 amendments have been engrafted into the 
 federal constitution, on which account, as well 
 as on account of the lessoiis of experience, Mr. 
 
220 XIFE OF HENRY. 
 
 Henry in a few years lost in a degree his repug- 
 jiance to it. 
 
 After the resignation of Mr. Randolph, in 
 August, 1795, he was nominated by president 
 Washington secretary of state, but considera- 
 tions of a private nature induced him to decline 
 the honourable trust. In November, 1 796, he 
 was again elected governor of Virginia, and this 
 office also he almost immediately resigned. In 
 the beginning of the year 1799, he was appoint- 
 ed by president Adams as an envoy to France, 
 with Messrs. Ellsworth and Murray. His letter 
 in reply to the secretary of state is dated in Char- 
 lotte county, April the 16th, and in it he speaks 
 of a severe indisposition, to which he was then 
 subject, and of his advanced age and increasing 
 debility, and adds, " Nothing short of absolute 
 necessity could induce me to withhold my little 
 aid from an administration, whose abilities, 
 patriotism and virtue, deserve the gratitude and 
 reverence of all their fellow citizens." Governor 
 Davie, of North Carolina, was in consequence 
 appointed in his place. He lived but a short 
 time after this testimony of the respect in which 
 his talents and patriotism were held, for he died 
 at Red Hill, in Charlotte county, on the 6th of 
 June, 1799. , 
 
 Mr. Henry was a man of eminent talents, of 
 ardent attachment to liberty, and of most com- 
 manding eloquence. The Virginians boast of 
 him as an orator of nature. His general ap- 
 pearance and manners were those of a plain 
 
LIFE OF HENRY. 22 1 
 
 farmer, and in this character he always entered 
 on the exordium of an oration. His unassuming 
 looks and expressions of humility induced his 
 hearers to listen to him, with the same easy 
 openness with which they would converse with 
 an honest neighbour. After he had thus disarm- 
 ed prejudice and pride, and opened a way to the 
 heart, the inspiration of his eloquence, when lit- 
 tle expected, would invest him with the authori- 
 ty of a prophet. With a mind of great powers, 
 and a heart of keen sensibility, he would some- 
 times rise in the majesty of his genius, and, while 
 he filled the audience with admiration, would, 
 with almost irresistible influence, bear along the 
 passions of others with him. 
 
 In private life, he was as amiable and virtuous 
 as he was conspicuous in his public career. In 
 a letter to Archibald Blair, esquire, Avritten but 
 a few months before his death, after lamenting 
 the violence of parties in Virginia, and repro- 
 bating French infidehty, and manners, and poli- 
 tics, he adds, " I am too old and infirm ever 
 again to undertake public concerns. I live much 
 retired, amidst a multiplicity of blessings from 
 that gracious Ruler of all things, to whom I owe 
 unceasing acknowledgments for his unremitted 
 goodness to me. — And if I were permitted to 
 add to the catalogue one other blessing, it should 
 be, that my countrymen should learn wisdom 
 and virtue, and in this their day to know the 
 things that pertain to their peace/^ 
 
LIFE OF S. Ali.VMS. 
 
 S. ADAMS. 
 
 Samuel Adams, a most distinguished patriot 
 in the American revolution, was born in Boston 
 of a respectable family, on tlie 27th day of Sep- 
 tember, 1722. He was graduated at Harvard 
 College in the year 1740. When he commenced 
 Master of Arts in 1743, he proposed the follow- 
 ing question for discussion: Whether it be law- 
 ful to resist the supreme magistrate, if the com- 
 monwealth cannot otherwise be preserved? He 
 maintained the affirmative, and thus early show- 
 ed his attachment to the liberties of the people. 
 
 Early distinguished by his talents as a writer, 
 his first attempts were proofs of his filial piety. 
 By his efforts he preserved the estate of his fa- 
 ther, which had been attached on account of an 
 engagement in the land bank bubble. He was 
 known as a political writer during the adminis- 
 tration of Shirley, to which he was opposed, as 
 he thought the union of so much civil and mili- 
 tary power in one man was dangerous. His 
 ingenuity, wit and profound argument, are spo- 
 ken of with the highest respect by those who 
 were cotemporary witli him. At this early pe- 
 riod he laid the foundation of public confidence 
 and esteem. 
 
 In the year 1765 he was elected a member 
 of the general assembly of Massachusetts, in the 
 place of Oxenbridge Thatcher, esq. deceased. 
 He was soon chosen clerk, and he gradually ac- 
 
11 FK or S. ADAMSr. 223 
 
 quired influence in the legislature. This was 
 an eventful time. But Mr. Adams possessed a 
 courage, which no dangei's could shake. He 
 w^as undismayed by the prospect, which struck 
 terror into the hearts of many. He was a mem- 
 ber of the legislature near ten years, and he was 
 the soul which animated it to the most important 
 resolutions. No man did so much. He pressed 
 his measures with ardour, yet he was prudent; 
 he knew how to bend the passions of others to 
 his purpose. 
 
 When the charter was dissolved, he was 
 chosen a member of the provincial convention. 
 In the year 1774 he was elected a member of 
 the general congress. In this station, in which 
 he remained a number of years, he rendered 
 the most important services to his country. His 
 eloquence was adapted to the times, in which 
 he lived. The energy of his language corres- 
 ponded with the firmness and vigour of his mind. 
 His heart glowed with the feelings of a patriot; 
 his eloquence was simple, majestic, and persua- 
 sive. He was one of the most efficient members 
 of Congress. He possessed keen penetration, 
 unshaken fortitude, and permanent decision. 
 Gordon speaks of him in 1774, as having for a 
 long time whispered to his confidential friends, 
 that this country must be independent. In the 
 last act of state of the British government in 
 Massachusetts, he was proscribed with John Han- 
 cock, when a general pardon was offered to all 
 who had rebelled. This act was dated June 
 
284- LIFE OF S. ADAMS. 
 
 12th, 1775, and it teaclies Americans what they 
 owe to the denounced patriot. 
 
 In the year 1776 he united with Dr. Franklin, 
 J. Adams, J. Hancock, T. Jefferson, and a host 
 of worthies, in declaring the United States no 
 longer an appendage to a monarchy, but free 
 and independent. 
 
 When the constitution of Massachusetts was 
 adopted, he was chosen a member of the senate, 
 of which body he was elected president. He 
 was soon sent to the western counties, to quiet 
 a disturbance which was rising, and was suc- 
 cessful in his mission. He was a member of the 
 convention for examining the constitution of the 
 United States. He made objections to several 
 of its provisions, but his principal objection was 
 to that article which rendered the several states 
 amenable to the courts of the nation. He thought 
 this reduced them to mere corporations; that 
 the sovereignty of each would be dissolved; and 
 that a consolidated government, supported by an 
 army, would be the consequence. The consti- 
 tution was afterwards altered in this point, and 
 in most other respects, according to his wishes. 
 
 In the year 1789 he was chosen lieutenant 
 governor, and was continued in this oiBce till 
 1794, when he was elected governor, as suc- 
 cessor to Mr. Hancock. He was annually re- 
 placed in tlie chair of the first magistrate of 
 Massachusetts till 1797, when his age and infir- 
 mities induced him to retire from public hfe. 
 He died on the 2d day of October, 1803, in the 
 S2d year of his age. 
 
LIFE OF S. AD.V31S. 3.25 
 
 The leading traits in the character of Mr. 
 Adams, were an unconquerable love of liberty, 
 integrity, firmness, and decision. Some acts of 
 his administration as chief magistrate were cen- 
 sured, though all allowed his motives were pure. 
 A division in political sentiments at that time 
 existed, and it has since increased. When he 
 differed from the majority, he acted with great 
 independence. At the close of the war, he op- 
 posed peace with Great Britain, unless the 
 northern states retained their full privileges in 
 the fisheries. In 1787 he advised the execution 
 of condign punishment, to which the leaders of 
 the rebeUion in 1786 had been sentenced. He 
 was opposed to the treaty with Great Britain, 
 made by Mr. Jay in the year 1794, and he put 
 his election to hazard by avowing his dislike of 
 it. He was censured for his conduct; but he 
 undoubtedly had a right to express his opinion, 
 and his situation made it his duty to point out 
 to the people what he conceived to be the causes 
 of danger. 
 
 Mr. Adams was a man of incorruptible inte- 
 grity. Attempts were probably made by the 
 British to bribe him. Governor Hutchinson, in 
 answer to the inquiry, why Mr. Adams was not 
 taken off from his opposition by an office, writes 
 to a friend in England, " Such is the obstinacy 
 and inflexible disposition of the man, that he 
 never can be conciliated by any office or gift 
 whatever.^^ 
 
 He was poor. While occupied abroad in the 
 most important and responsible public duties. 
 
226 I.IFE or S. ADAMS. 
 
 the partner of his cares supported the family at 
 home by her industry. Though his resources 
 were veiy small, yet such was the economy and 
 dignity of his house, that those who casually 
 visited him, found nothing mean or unbecoming 
 his station. His country, to whose interests he 
 had devoted his life, permitted him to remain 
 poor; but there was not wanting a few friendSj 
 who showed him their regard. In this honour- 
 able poverty he continued to a very late period ol 
 his Hfe; and had not a decent competency fallen 
 into his hands by the very afflicting event of the 
 death of an only son, he must have depended 
 for subsistence upon the kindness of his friends, 
 or the charity of the public. 
 
 To a majestic countenance and dignified man- 
 ners, there was added a suavity of temper which 
 concihated the affection of his acquaintance. 
 Some, who disapproved of his political conduct, 
 loved and revered him as a neighbour and friend. 
 He could readily relax from severer cares and 
 studies, to enjoy the pleasures of private conver- 
 sation. Though somewhat reserved among 
 strangers, yet with his friends he was cheerful 
 and companionable, a lover of chaste wit, and 
 remarkably fond of anecdote. He faithfully 
 discharged the duties arising from the relations 
 of social life. His house was the seat of domes- 
 tic peace, regularity, and method. 
 
 Mr. Adams was a Christian. His mind was 
 early imbued with piety, as well as cultivated by 
 science. He early approached the table of the 
 Lord Jesus, and the purity of his life witnessed 
 
l.IFK OF S. ADAMS. 227 
 
 he sincerity of his profession. On the Christian 
 iabbath he constantly went to the temple, and 
 he morning and evening devotions in his family 
 )roved, that his religion attended him in his sea- 
 sons of retirement from the world. The last 
 production of his pen was in favour of Christian 
 ruth. He died in the faith of the gospel. 
 
 He was a sage and a patriot. The indepen- 
 lence of the United States of America is per- 
 laps to be attributed nmch to his exertions, 
 rhough he was called to struggle with adversity, 
 16 was never discouraged. He was consistent 
 md firm under the cruel neglect of a friend and 
 he malignant rancour of an enemy; comforting 
 limself in the darkest seasons with reflections 
 ipon the wisdom and goodness of God. 
 
 His writings are to be found only in the co- 
 umns of a newspaper or a pamphlet. In the 
 rear 1790, a few letters passed between him and 
 Mr. John Adams, then vice president of the 
 United States, in which the principles of govern- 
 nent are discussed, and there appears to have 
 existed some difference of sentiment between 
 :hose eminent patriots and statesmen, who had 
 ;oiled together through the revolution. This 
 correspondence was published in the year 1800. 
 ^J^ oration, which Mr Adams delivered at the 
 state House in Philadelphia, on the 1st of Au- 
 gust, 1776, was published. The object is to 
 support American independence, the declaration 
 [)f which by Congress had been made a short 
 time before. He opposes kingly government 
 and hereditary succession with warmth and 
 
228 LIFE OF HAMILTajf. 
 
 energy. Not long before his death he addressed 
 a letter to Thomas Paine, expressing his disap- 
 probation of that unbeliever's attempts to injure 
 the cause of Christianity. 
 
 HAMILTON. 
 
 Alexander Hamilton, a native of St. Croix, 
 was born in the year 1757. His father was the 
 younger son of an Enghsh family, and his mo- 
 ther a native of the United States — at that time 
 British colonies. At the age of sixteen he ac- 
 companied his mother to New York, and en- 
 tered as a student of Columbia College, in which 
 he continued about three years. While a mem- 
 ber of this institution, the first buddings of his in- 
 tellect gave presages of his future eminence. 
 The contest with Great Britain called forth the 
 first talents on each side, and his juvenile pen 
 asserted the claims of the colonies against very 
 respectable writers. His productions exhibited 
 such evidence of intellect and wisdom, that they 
 were attributed to the pen of Mr. Jay; and when 
 the truth was discovered, America saw with as- 
 tonishment a lad of seventeen in the list of her 
 able advocates. 
 
 The first sound of battle awakened the mar- 
 tial spirit of the stripling, and at the age of eigh- 
 teen he entered the American army with the 
 rank of captain of artillery. As a soldier, he soon 
 concihated the affection of his brethren in arms, 
 and it was not long before he attracted the no- 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 229 
 
 tice of the commander in chief, who in 1777 se- 
 lected him as an aid-de-camp, which promoted 
 him to the rank of heutenant colonel. His sound 
 understanding, comprehensive views, applica- 
 tion and promptitude, soon gained him the en- 
 tire contidence of his patron. In such a school, 
 it was impossible that his genius should not be 
 nourished. By intercourse with Washington, 
 by surveying his plans, observing his consum- 
 mate prudence, and by a minute inspection of 
 the springs of national operations, he became fit- 
 ted for command. 
 
 Throughout the campaign, which terminated 
 in the capture of lord Cornwallis, colonel Ha- 
 milton commanded a battalion of light infantry. 
 At the siege of Yorktown, in the year 1781, 
 when the second parallel was opened, two re- 
 doubts which flanked it, and were advanced 
 three hundred yards in front of the British works, 
 very much annoyed the men in the trenches. It 
 was resolved to possess them, and to awaken a 
 spirit of emulation, the reduction of the one was 
 entrusted to the Americans, and that of the other 
 to the French. The detachment of the Ameri- 
 cans was commanded by the marquis de la Fay- 
 *ette, and colonel Hamilton, at his own request, 
 led tlie advanced corps, consisting of two batta- 
 lions. Towards the close of the day, on the l4th 
 of October, the troops rushed to the charge with- 
 out firing a single gun. The works were as- 
 saulted with irresistible impetuosity, and carried 
 with but little loss. Eight of the enemy fell in 
 the action; but notwithstanding the irritation 
 u 
 
2S0 LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 lately produced by an infamous slaughter in Fort 
 Griswold, not a man was killed who ceased to 
 resist. In justice to the American soldiery it 
 must be added, that the enterprise committed to 
 them on this occasion, was conducted in the 
 finest style, and completed first by several mi- 
 nutes. 
 
 Soon after the capture of CornwaUis, Hamil- 
 ton sheathed his sword, and being incumbered 
 with a family, and destitute of funds, entered, 
 after a brief course of study, on the profession 
 of the law. But his private pursuits could not 
 detach him from regard to the public welfare. 
 The violence which was meditated against the 
 property and persons of all who remained in the 
 city of New York while the British army was in 
 possession of that place, called forth his gener- 
 ous exertions, and by the aid of governor Clin- 
 ton, the faithless and revengeful scheme was de- 
 feated. 
 
 In the year 1786, colonel Hamilton was cho- 
 sen a member of the legislature of New York, 
 and, during this session, he was elected one of 
 the three representatives from that state to the 
 general convention at Philadelphia, whose deli- 
 berations resulted in the constitution of our 
 country. The constitution did not indeed com- 
 pletely meet his wishes. He was afraid it did 
 not contain sufficient means of strength for its 
 own preservation, and that in consequence we 
 should share the fate of many other republics, 
 and pass through anarchy to despotism. He was 
 in favour of a more permanent executive and 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. -'1 
 
 senate. He wished for a strong government, 
 wliich would not be shaken by the conilict of 
 different interests through an extensive territory, 
 and which sliould be adequate to all the fRHTin^ 
 of national exigency. He was apprehensive, 
 that the increased wealth and population of the 
 states would lead to encroachments on the union, 
 and he anticipated the day, when the general 
 government, unable to support itself, would fall. 
 These were his views and feelings, and he freely 
 expressed them. But the patriotism of Hamil- 
 ton was not of that kind which yields every 
 thing because it cannot accomplish all that it de- 
 sires. Believing the constitution to be incompa- 
 rably superior to the old confederation, he ex- 
 erted all his talents in its support, though it did 
 not rise to his conception of a perfect system. 
 
 When the government was organized in 1 789, 
 he was appointed to the office of secretary of the 
 treasury. New demands were now made upon 
 his talents. But his mind was not formed to be 
 intimidated or vanquished. It rose in greatness 
 in proportion to the difficulties it had to encoun- 
 ter. In his reports he proposed plans for fund- 
 ing the debt of the union, and for assuming the 
 debts of the respective states; for establishing a 
 bank and mint, and for procuring a revenue. 
 He wished to redeem the reputation of his coun- 
 try by satisfying her creditors, and to combine 
 with the government such a monied interest as 
 might facilitate its operations. But while he 
 opened sources of wealth to thousands by estab- 
 lishing public credit;, and thus restoring the pub- 
 
232 tlFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 lie paper to its original value, he did not enrich 
 himself; he did not take advantage of his situa- 
 tion, nor improve tl3e opportunity he enjoyed, 
 and which, without peculation or any other act 
 that would have amounted to a breach of public 
 trust, might have rendered him as distinguished 
 lor wealth as he was for the higher riches of his 
 mind. He was exquisitely delicate in relation 
 to his official character, being determined if 
 possible to prevent the impeachment of his mo- 
 tives, and preserve his integrity and good name 
 unimpaired. 
 
 "In his system of finance," says Mr. Dela- 
 plaine, " there was nothing unnatiu'al, and 
 therefore nothing forced. So perfect were the 
 correspondence and adjustment between the 
 means, the subject, and the end, that all things 
 he aimed at sprang up under his touch, as if na- 
 ture herself had called them into existence. 
 They rose and flourished like the productions of 
 a fertile soil, when awakened by the influence 
 of the vernal sun. From the most humble and 
 depressed condition, he raised public credit to 
 an elevation altogether unprecedented in the 
 history of the country, and acquired for him- 
 self, both at home and abroad, the reputation 
 of the greatest financier of the age." 
 
 After the commencement of hostilities be- 
 tween England and France, in 1793, an attempt 
 was made by the minister of the latter to involve 
 the United States as a party in the war. Pre- 
 sident Washington, as wefl to hold in check the 
 spirit of lawless adventure, by declaring the ex- 
 
LIFE OF HAMIITOX. 233 
 
 isting state of things, as to make known the po- 
 hcy which he meant permanently to pursue, is- 
 sued his proclamation of neutrality. In the ad- 
 visement of that measure, Hamilton was known 
 to have taken a decided and responsible part. 
 His advice was followed in relation to the insur- 
 rection in the western parts of Pennsylvania, in 
 the year 1794, and such a detachment was sent 
 out, that it was suppressed without the effusion 
 of blood. He remained but a short time after- 
 wards in office. As his property had been 
 wasted in the public service, the care of a rising 
 family made it his duty to retire, that by re- 
 newed exertions in his profession he might pro- 
 vide for tlieir support. He accordingly resigned 
 his office on the last of January, 1795, and was 
 succeeded by Mr. Wolcott. 
 
 In consequence of the injuries and indignities 
 which our government sustained from France, a 
 provisional army was raised in the year 1798 for 
 defensive operations. 
 - By Mr. Adams, then president of the United 
 States, the command of this army was proffered 
 to Washington, who suspended his acceptance 
 of it on condition, that colonel Hamilton, with 
 the title of inspector general, should be second 
 in command. Tills arrangement was accord- 
 ijigly niade. 
 
 On the death of Washington in 1799, he suc- 
 ceeded of course to the command in chief of the 
 armies of America. But, for some cause, of 
 which the public is yet to be informed, the rank 
 of heutenant general, now justly his due, ac- 
 v 2 
 
234 LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 cording to tlie principle and usages of military 
 promotion, was never conferred on liim. 
 
 After the adjustment of our differences with 
 the French repubUc, and the discharge of the 
 army, general Hamilton returned again to his 
 profession in the city of New York. In this 
 place he passed the remainder of his days. 
 
 In June, 1804, general Hamilton received 
 from colonel Burr a note, requiring, in language 
 that was deemed offensive, an acknowledgment 
 or a disavowal, touching certain expressions, 
 which he was unable to make. This led to a 
 correspondence, which, after every honourable 
 effort by the former to prevent extremities, ter- 
 minated in a challenge on the part of the latter. 
 A duel was the consequence. After the close 
 of the circuit court, the parties met at Hoboken, 
 on the New Jersey shore, on the morning of 
 the llthof July, 1801, and general Hamilton 
 fell on the very spot where his son a few years 
 before had fallen, in obedience to the same un- 
 lawful and barbarous practice. He was carried 
 into the city, and being desirous of receiving the 
 sacrament of the Lord's Supper, he immedi- 
 ately sent for the Rev. Dr. Mason. As the prin- 
 ciples of his church prohibited him from admi- 
 nistering the ordinance in private, this minister 
 of the gospel informed general Hamilton, that 
 the sacrament was an exhibition and pledge of 
 the mercies which the Son of God has pur- 
 chased, and that the absence of the sign did not 
 exclude from the mercies signified, which were 
 accessible to him by faith in their gracious \u- 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 255 
 
 thor. lie replied, "I am aware of that. It is 
 only as a sign that I wanted it." In the conver- 
 sation which ensued, he disavowed all intention 
 of taking the life of colonel Burr, and declared 
 his abhorrence of the whole transaction. When 
 the sin, of which he had been guilty, was inti- 
 mated to him, he assented with strong emotion^ 
 and when the infinite merit of the Redeemer, as 
 the propitiation for sin, the sole ground of our 
 acceptance with God was suggested, he said 
 with emphasis, " I have a tender reliance on the 
 mercy of the Almighty through the merits of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ." The Rev. Bishop Moore 
 was afterwards sent for, and after making suit- 
 able inquiries of the penitence and faith of gene- 
 ral Hamilton, and receiving his assurance that 
 he would never again, if restored to health, be 
 engaged in a similar transaction, but would em- 
 ploy all his inlluence in society to discounte- 
 nance the barbarous custom, administered to 
 him the communion. After this his mind was 
 composed. He expired about two o'clock P. M. 
 of the following day, in the forty-seventh year of 
 his age. For a time political distinctions were 
 swallowed up in his loss, and his death was la- 
 mentet! as a national calamity. 
 
 Mr. Delaplaine says, " by universal acknow- 
 ledgment, Alexander Hamilton ivas one of the 
 greatest men not only of the country, but of the 
 age in which he lived. Nor were his virtues in- 
 ferior to his intellectual endowments. Whether 
 morally or physically considered, his mind was 
 alike gigantic and illustrious." 
 
2S€ IIFK OF HAMILTOIV. 
 
 " Were we even to enlarge the field of our 
 research^ embracing within its compass every 
 country and age which the lights of history per- 
 mit us to examine, we should find but few indi- 
 viduals that could rival him in greatness. Such 
 characters — rari nantes in gurgite vasto — are 
 but thinly scattered along the spacious stream of 
 human existence. Were we allowed the use of 
 a brighter, and we, therefore, think a more suit- 
 able figure, we might say, that, like stars of pri- 
 mary magnitude, they ghtter not in constella- 
 tions, but in distinct and widely separated spheres. 
 In every department of nature it is small bodies 
 alone that are crowded together." And again: 
 " Within the sphere of our own knowledge, or 
 in the records of society, it is usual to find indi- 
 viduals who are highly distinguished in particu- 
 lar walks — in the forum, the senate, the cabinet, 
 or the field — but a single character, pre-eminent 
 in them all, constitutes a prodigy of human great- 
 ness. Yet such a character was the personage 
 we are considering. He combined within him- 
 self qualities that would have communicated lus- 
 tre to many. At the bar, his ability and elo- 
 quence were at once the delight and astonish- 
 nient of his countr}- : as a statesman, his powers 
 Avere transcendent and his resources inexhausti- 
 ble; as a financier, he was acknowledged to be 
 without a rival; in his talent for war, he was 
 believed to be inferior to Washington alone. To 
 those we may add, that in his qualifications as a . 
 writer he was eminently great. Endowments 
 so brilliant, with attainments so wide, multifa- 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 237 
 
 rious and lofty, have but rarely fallen to the por- 
 tion of a mortal/' 
 
 General Hamilton possessed many friends, and 
 he was greatly endeared to them, for he was ten- 
 der, gentle, and benevolent. While he was great 
 in the eyes of the world, familiarity with him only 
 increased the regard in which he was held. 
 
 In relation to bis political designs, the most 
 contradictory opinions were entertained. While 
 one party believed his object to be the preserva- 
 tion of the present constitution, the other party' 
 imputed to him the intention of subverting it; 
 his friends regarded him as an impartial states- 
 man, while his enemies perceived in his conduct 
 only hostility to France and attachment to her 
 rival. Whatever may be the decision with re- 
 gard to the correctness of his principles, his pre- 
 ference of his country's interest to his own can- 
 not be questioned by those who are acquainted 
 with his character. He took no measure to 
 secure a transient popularity; but like every true 
 friend to his country, was willing to rest his re- 
 putation upon the integrity of his conduct So 
 far was he from flattering the people, that he 
 more than once dared to throw himself into the 
 torrent, that he might present some obstruction 
 to its course. He was an honest politician; and 
 his frankness has been commended even by those 
 who opposed him in his public measures. His 
 views of the necessity of a firm general govern- 
 ment, rendered him a decided fri<md of the union 
 of the American states. His feelings and lan- 
 guage were indignant towards every thing, which 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 pointed at its dissolution. His hostility to every 
 influence, which leaned toward the project, was 
 stern and steady, and in every shape it encoun- 
 tered his reprobation. No man, of those who 
 were not unfriendly to the late administration, 
 possessed so wide and commanding an influence; 
 and he seems not to have been ignorant of the ele- 
 vated height on which he stood. In assigning the 
 reasons for accepting the challenge of colonel 
 Burr, while he seems to intimate his apprehen- 
 sions, that the debility of the general govern- 
 ment would be followed by convulsions, he also 
 alludes to the demand, which in such an event, 
 might be made upon his military talents. His 
 words are, " The ability to be in future useful, 
 whether in resisting miscliief or effecting good, 
 in those crises of our public affairs, which seem 
 likely to happen, would probably be inseparable 
 from a conformity with public prejudice in this 
 particular." 
 
 With all his pre-eminence of talents, and 
 amiable as he was in private life, general Hamil- 
 ton is yet a melancholy proof of the influence 
 which intercourse with a depraved world has in 
 perverting the judgment. In principle he was 
 opposed to the practice of duelling, his conscience 
 was not hardened, and he was not indifferent to 
 the welfare of his wife and cliildren; but no con-' 
 sideration was strong enough to prevent him from 
 exposing his life in single combat. His own 
 views of usefulness were followed in contrariety 
 to the injunctions of his Maker and his Judge. 
 He had been for some time convinced of the 
 
LIFE OK IIAMILTOS. 239 
 
 truth of Christianity, and it was his intention, 
 if his life had been spared, to have written a 
 woik upon its evidences. 
 
 His person is thus described by Mr. Dela- 
 plaine. " Although in person below the middle 
 stature, and somewhat deficient in elegance of 
 figure, general Hamilton possessed a very strik- 
 ing and manly appearance. By the most super- 
 ficial observer he could never be regarded as a 
 common individual. His head, which was large, 
 was formed on the finest model, resembling 
 somewhat the Grecian antique. His forehead 
 was spacious and elevated, his nose projecting, 
 but inclining to the aquihne, his eyes grey, keen 
 at all times, and, when animated by debate, in- 
 tolerably piercing, and his mouth and chin well 
 proportioned and handsome. These two latter, 
 although not his strongest, were his most pleas- 
 ing features; yet the form of his mouth was ex- 
 pressive of eloquence — more especially of per- 
 suasion. He was remarkable for a deep depres- 
 sion between his nose and forehead, and a con- 
 traction of his brows, which gave to the upper 
 part of his countenance an air of sternness. The 
 lower part was the emblem of mildness and be- 
 nignity. 
 
 In the year 1 784, he pubhshed letters under the 
 signature of Phocion, by which the minds of the 
 people were very much informed as to the moral 
 obligations arising out of the conclusion of the 
 treaty of peace. The Federalist, a series of es- 
 says, which appeared in the public papers in the 
 
240 LIFE or HAMI1.T0X. 
 
 interval between the publication and the adop- 
 tion of the constitution of the United States, and 
 which was designed to elucidate and support its 
 principles, was written by him in conjunction 
 witli Mr. Jay and Mr. Madison. He wrote the 
 whole work, except Nos. 2, 3, 4, 5, and 54, 
 which were written by Mr. Jay; Nos. 10, 14, 
 and 37 to 48 inclusive, by Mr. Madison; and 
 Nos. 18, 19, and 20, which he and Mr. Madi- 
 son wrote conjointly. This work, which had a 
 powerful influence in procuring the adoption of 
 the constitution, has since been published in two 
 volumes, and is held in the highest estimation. 
 His official reports to Congress, while secretary 
 of the treasury, are very long, and display great 
 powers of mind. They are among t!ie most 
 able and instructive papers on political economy 
 that have ever appeared. In 1793 he published 
 the essays of Pacificus, which were highly influ- 
 ential in reconcihng to public sentiment, the 
 president's proclamation of neutrahty, and in 
 bestowing on it that popularity which it ulti- 
 mately attained. To direct and confirm his fel- 
 low citizens in the course they should pursue, 
 with regard to the conduct of the French repub- 
 lic towards the United States, he published in 
 1798, with conclusive effect, under the signature 
 of Titus Manlius, a series of essays denominated 
 " The Stand." 
 
LIFK OF WYTUJi. 241 
 
 WYTHE. 
 
 George Wythe, chancellor of Virginia, and 
 a distinguished friend of his country, was born in 
 the county of Elizabeth City, in the year 1726. 
 His father was a respectable farmer, and his 
 mother was a woman of uncommon knowledge 
 and strength of mind. She taught the Latin 
 tongue, with which she was intimately ac- 
 quainted, and which she spoke fluently, to her 
 son; but his education was in other respects 
 very much neglected. At school he learned 
 only to read and write, and to apply the five first 
 rules of arithmetic. His parents having died 
 before he attained the age of twenty-one years, 
 like many unthinking youths he commenced a 
 career of dissipation and intemperance, and did 
 not disengage himself from it before he reached 
 the age of thirty. He then bitterly lamented the 
 loss of those nine years of his life, and of the 
 learning, which durmg that period he might have 
 acquired. But never did any man moie ef- 
 fectually redeem his time. From the moment 
 when he resolved on reformation, he devoted 
 himself most intensely to his studies. Without 
 the assistance of any instructor, he acquired an 
 accurate knowledge of the Greek, and he read 
 (he best authors in that as well as in the Latin 
 language. He made himself also a profound 
 lawyer, becoming perfectly versed in the civil 
 and common law, and in the statutes of Great 
 Britain and Virginia. He was also a skilful 
 
g42 JL1>'JK OF V, VTHE. 
 
 mathematician, and was well acquainted with 
 moral and natural philosophy. The wild and 
 thoughtless youth was now converted into a se- 
 date and prudent man, delighting entirely in li- 
 terary pursuits. At this period he acquired that 
 attachment to the Christian religion which, 
 though his faith was afterwards shaken by the 
 difficulties suggested by sceptical writers, never 
 altogether forsook him, and towards the close of 
 his hfe was renovated and firmly established. 
 Though he never connected himself with any 
 sect of Christians, yet for many years he con- 
 stantly attended church, and the Bible was his 
 favourite book. 
 
 Having obtained a license to practise law, he 
 took his station at the bar of the old general 
 court with many other great men, whose merit 
 has been the boast of Virginia. Among Xhefh 
 he was conspicuous not for his eloquence or in- 
 genuity in maintaining a bad cause, but for his 
 sound sense and learning, and rigid attachment 
 to justice. He never undertook the support of 
 a cause which he knew to be bad, or which did 
 not appear to be just and honourable. He was 
 even known, when he doubted the statement of 
 his client, to insist upon his making an affidavit 
 to its truth; and in every instance, where it was 
 in his power, he examined the witnesses as to 
 the facts intended to be proved, before he 
 brought the suit, or agreed to defend it. 
 
 When the time arrived, which Heaven had 
 destined for the separation of the wide, confe- 
 derated republic of America from the dominion 
 
LIFE OF WYTHE. 243 
 
 of Great Britain, Mr. Wythe was one of the in- 
 struments in the hand of Providence for accom- 
 phshing that great work. He took a decided 
 part in the very first movements of opposition. 
 Not content merely to fall in with the wishes of 
 his fellow citizens, he assisted in persuading 
 them not to submit to British tyranny. With a 
 prophetic mind he looked forward to the event 
 of an approaching war, and resolutely prepared 
 to encounter all its evils rather than to resign 
 his attachment to liberty. With his pupil and 
 friend, Thomas Jefferson, he roused the- people 
 to resistance. As the controversy grew warm, 
 his zeal became proportionally fervent. He 
 joined a corps of volunteers, accustomed him- 
 self to military discipline, and was ready to 
 march at the call of his country. But that coun- 
 tiy, to whose interests he was so sincerely at- 
 tached, had other duties of more importance 
 for him to perform. It was his destiny to obtain 
 distinction as a statesman, legislator, and judge, 
 and not as a warrior. Before the war commen- 
 ced he was elected a member of the Virginia as- 
 sembly. After having been for some time spea- 
 ker of the house of burgesses, he was sent by 
 the members of that body as one of their dele- 
 gates to the Congress, which assembled on the 
 18th of May, 1775, and did not separate until 
 it had declared the independence of America. 
 In that most enlightened and patriotic assembly 
 he possessed no small share of influence. He 
 was one of those who signed the memorable de- 
 claration, by which the heroic legislators of this 
 
244 LIFE OF AVYTHE. 
 
 country pledged " their lives, their fortunes, and 
 their sacred honour," to maintain and defend its 
 violated rights. 
 
 From the commencement of the year 1777, 
 to the middle of 1779, Mr. Wythe was engaged 
 with Jefferson and Pendleton in making a gene- 
 ral revisal of the laws of Virginia, to be laid be- 
 fore the assembly of that state. The industry 
 and zeal of those gentlemen prepared one hun- 
 dred and twenty-six bills, from which are de- 
 rived all the most liberal features of the existing 
 laws of the commonwealth. And it is to the 
 enlightened mind of Wythe, that Virginia owes 
 several important and beneficial changes in her 
 code. 
 
 After finishing the task of new modelling the 
 laws, he was employed to carry them into effect 
 according to their true intent and spirit, by be- 
 ing placed in the difficult office of judge of a 
 court of equity. He was appointed one of the 
 three judges of the high court of chancery, and 
 afterwards sole chancellor of Virginia, in which 
 station he continued until the day of his death, 
 during a period of more than twenty years. His 
 extraordinary disintei'estedness and patriotism 
 were now most conspicuously, displayed. Al- 
 though the salary allowed him by the common- 
 wealth was extremely scanty, yet he contentedly 
 lived upon it even in the expensive city of Rich- 
 mond, and devoted his whole time to the service 
 of his country. With that contempt of wealth, 
 which so remarkably distinguished him from 
 other men, he made a present of one half of his 
 
IIFE OF WYTHE. 24.1 
 
 land in Elizabeth City to his nephew, and the 
 purchase money of the remainder, which he 
 sold, was not paid him for many years. While 
 he resided in Williamsburgh, he accepted the 
 professorship of law in the college of William 
 and Mary, but resigned it when his duties as 
 chancellor required his removal to Richmond. 
 His resources were therefore small, yet with 
 his liberal and charitable disposition he conti- 
 nued, by means of that little, to do much good, 
 and always to preserve his independence. This 
 he accomplished by temperance and economy. 
 
 He was a member of the Virginia convention, 
 which in June, 1788, considered the proposed 
 constitution of the United States. During the 
 debates he acted for the most part as chairman. 
 Being convinced that the confederation was de- 
 fective in the energy necessary to preserve the 
 union and liberty of America, this venerable pa- 
 triot, then beginning to bow under the weight 
 of years, rose in the convention, and exerted 
 his voice, almost too feeble to be heard, in con- 
 tending for a system, on the acceptance of 
 which he conceived the happiness of his coun- 
 try to depend. He was ever attached to the 
 constitution, on account of the principles of 
 freedom and justice which it contained; and in 
 every change of affairs he was steady in support- 
 ing the rights of man. His political opinions 
 were always firmly repr-^^Jcan. Though in 
 1798 and 1799, he wp^ opposed to the measures 
 which were adopted in the administration of pre- 
 sident Adams, and reprobated the alien and se- 
 X 2 
 
246^ LIFE OF WYTHE. 
 
 dition laws, and the raising of the army: yet he 
 never yielded a moment to the rancour of party 
 spirit, nor permitted the difference of opinion to 
 interfere in his private friendships. He pre- 
 sided twice successively in the college of elec- 
 tors in Virginia, and twice voted for a president, 
 whose political principles coincided with his own. 
 After a short but very excruciating sickness, he 
 died on the 8th of June, 1806, in the eighty- 
 first year of his age. It was supposed that he 
 was poisoned, but the person suspected was ac- 
 quitted by a jury of his countrymen. By his last 
 will and testament, he bequeathed his valuable 
 library and philosophical apparatus to his friend, 
 Mr. Jefferson, and distributed the remainder of 
 his little property among the grand children of 
 his sister, and the slaves, whom he had set free. 
 He thus wished to liberate the blacks not only 
 from slavery, but from the temptations to vice. 
 He even condescended to impart to them in- 
 struction; and he personally taught the Greek 
 language to a little negro boy, who died a few 
 days before his preceptor. 
 
 Chancellor Wythe was indeed an extraordi- 
 nary man. With all his great qualities he pos- 
 sessed a soul replete with benevolence, and his 
 private life is full of anecdotes, which prove, 
 that it is seldom that a kinder and warmer heart 
 throbs in the breast of a human being. He was 
 of a social and affectionate disposition. From 
 the time when he was emaocipated from the fol- 
 lies of youth, he sustained an unspotted reputa- 
 tion. His integrity was never even suspected. 
 
LIFE OF WYTHE. 24; 
 
 Wliile he practised at the bar, when offers ot 
 an extraordinary but well merited compensation 
 were made to him by cHents, whose causes he 
 had gained, he would say, that the labourer was 
 indeed worthy of his hire, but the lawful fee 
 was all he had a right to demand, and as to pre- 
 sents, he did not want and would not accept 
 them from any man. This grandeur of mind he 
 uniformly preserved to the end of his life. His 
 manner of living was plain and abstemious. He 
 found the means of suppressing the desire of 
 wealth by limiting the number of his wants. An 
 ardent desire to promote the happiness of his 
 fellow men, by supporting the cause of justice, 
 and maintaining and establishing their rights, 
 appears to have been his ruling passion. 
 
 As a judge, he was remarkable for his rigid 
 impartiality and sincere attachment to the prin- 
 ciples of equity, for his vast and various learn- 
 ing, and for his strict and unwearied attention 
 to business. Superior to popular prejudice and 
 every corrupting influence, nothing could induce 
 him to swerve from truth and right. In his de- 
 cisions he seemed to be a pure intelligence, un- 
 touched by human passions, and settling the dis- 
 putes of men according to the dictates of eternal 
 and immutable justice. Other judges have sur- 
 passed him in genius, and a certain facility in 
 despatching causes, but while the vigour of his 
 faculties remained unimpaired, he was seldom 
 surpassed in learning, industry, and judgment. 
 
 From a man, intrusted with such high con- 
 cerns, and whose time was occupied by so many 
 
248 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 difficult and perplexing avocations, it could 
 scarcely have been expected that he should 
 have employed a part of it in the toilsome and 
 generally unpleasant task of the education of 
 youth. Yet even to this he was prompted by 
 his genuine patriotism and philanthropy, which 
 induced him for many years to take delight in 
 educating such young persons as showed an in- 
 clination for improvement. Harassed as he 
 was with business, and enveloped with papers 
 belonging to intricate suits in chancery, he yet 
 found time to keep a private school for the in- 
 struction of a few scholars, always with very 
 little compensation, and often demanding none. 
 Several hving ornaments of their country re- 
 ceived their greatest lights from his sublime ex- 
 ample and instruction. Such was the upright 
 and venerable Wythe. 
 
 AMES. 
 
 Fisher Ames. On the illustrious subject ot 
 the present article, we feel most sensibly how 
 difficult it is to think without emotion, or to 
 speak with that coolness and self-control, that 
 temperance and impartiality, that become the 
 biographer. If, however, on any point of history, 
 it be admissible to indulge in the language of 
 sensibility, it is when attempting to portray the 
 virtues and talents, the dispositions and achieve- 
 ments, of so excellent, so amiable, and so distin- 
 guished an individual. He was one of those 
 
LITE OF AMES. 249 
 
 extraordinary characters, that, at long intervals, 
 a beneficent Providence calls into existence, to 
 instruct, delight, and astonish mankind. Had 
 he been a citizen of Greece, when in the zenith 
 of her glory, or of Rome, during the period of 
 her fairest renown, he would have been pre- 
 eminent in the ranks of statesmen and legisla- 
 tors, patriots and orators. In modern times, 
 few men, devoted exclusively to civil pursuits, 
 have moved in a sphere more elevated and ra- 
 diant. From the commencement till near the 
 close of his public career, which, alas! was al- 
 most as transient as it was brilliant, although 
 associated with the ablest men of the nation, his 
 wisdom in council, and his eloquence in debate, 
 imposed on him the arduous and responsible 
 office of a leader, in many of the most intricate 
 concerns of legislation. As long as the state of 
 his health enabled him to persevere in the exer- 
 tions necessary for maintaining the station he 
 had acquired, his ascendency in the House of 
 Representatives of the United States, was as 
 sensibly felt and as generally acknowledged, as 
 that of Fox or Pitt, Burke or even Chatham, 
 in the British parliament. 
 
 When we contemplate him surrounded by all 
 the attributes of character, that justly appertained 
 to him; a mind rich in the most splendid endow- 
 ments of nature, heightened by whatever culti- 
 vation could bestow; a heart pregnant with 
 every moral virtue, and glowing with the purest 
 and noblest sentiments; a social temperament, 
 consisting of every quality calculated to concili- 
 
250 IIFE OF AMKS. 
 
 ate, delight, and endear; and a zeal for the wel- 
 fare of his country, and the happiness of his fel- 
 low citizens, which burned with a vestal purity 
 and vigilance, and was too ardent for the strength 
 of his finely organized and sensitive frame;* — 
 when we view him thus elevated by his native 
 powers, and clothed in excellencies so numerous 
 and resplendent, we can with difficulty set 
 bounds to our admiration and esteem, or pre- 
 vent our affection from rising to enthusiasm. It 
 is when engaged in the contemplation of such a 
 character that we feel most inclined to glory in 
 our birthright, and experience the liveliest sense 
 of gratitude for the privilege conferred on us, of 
 belonging to an order of beings so exalted. 
 
 When society is deprived by death of an indi- 
 vidual so eminent, it devolves as a duty on those 
 who survive him, if to emulate his greatness be 
 too hopeless an undertaking, at least to cherish 
 his memory, and practise his virtues; and, by 
 recording his character in the most public and 
 permanent form, to extend and perpetuate his 
 example, for the benefit of mankind. With a 
 view to the promotion of objects like these, as 
 well as in grateful commemoration of the me- 
 rits of the deceased, we have ventured to pre- 
 pare a biographical notice of the illustrious per- 
 sonage under our consideration. 
 
 * Mr. Ames, as his writings evince, regarded with more 
 than usual apprehension and horror, the strides of France 
 towards universal empire. It" his death was not accele- 
 rated, his health was at least materially impaired, by this 
 deep and constant solicitude about the liberties of lii^ 
 country. 
 
l.IFK OF AMES. 251 
 
 Fisher Ames was the youngest of a family, 
 (consisting of five children. He was born on the 
 9th of April, 1758, in the old parish of Dedham, 
 a pleasant country town, situated in the county 
 of Norfolk, about nine miles from the city of 
 Boston. Descended from one of the oldest fa- 
 mihes in the state of Massachusetts, he was, in 
 the strictest sense of the word, an American. 
 In this respect, his blood was as free from foreign 
 admixture, as his spirit was from foreign par- 
 tialities. Although by far the most able and emi- 
 nent of his line, he was not the only one of them 
 that aspired to and attained distinction in letters. 
 His father, a man of uncommon wit, acuteness, 
 and worth, was a practitioner of medicine, high 
 in reputation. In addition to the extent of his 
 professional attainments, he was well versed in 
 natural philosophy, astronomy, and mathematics. 
 He died in July, 1764, when the subject of this 
 article had but little more than completed the 
 sixth year of his age. He also numbered in the 
 line of his ancestry, the Rev. William Ames, 
 who flourished about the beginning of the seven- 
 teenth century, and was the author of a very 
 valuable w^ork, denominated Medulla Theologice, 
 and several smaller tracts in polemical divinity. 
 That celebrated English divine, unable to brook 
 the spirit of intolerance by which he was assailed, 
 under the authority of Christ's College in Cam- 
 bridge, emigrated to the states of Friesland, 
 where he was afterwards chosen a professor in 
 their university. He was an active member in 
 the synod of Dort, in the year 1618. That he 
 
252 lilFE OF AMES. 
 
 might be still farther removed from that most 
 galling of tyrannies, which interferes with the 
 rights of conscience and the forms of devotion, 
 he made definitive arrangements for emigrating 
 to New Eingland, but was prevented by death, in 
 the month of November, 1633. We mention 
 these facts to show, that the family of Ames had 
 been long distinguished by their love of freedom. 
 
 On the death of young Ames's father, his mo- 
 ther was left with a family, in straitened circum- 
 stances, to struggle with the difficulties incident 
 to her situation. As if inspired, however, with 
 a presentiment of the future destinies of her son, 
 she determined to bestow on him a liberal edu- 
 cation. She accomplished her task, lived to 
 rejoice in his prosperity and eminence, to wit- 
 ness the manifestations of his filial piety, and to 
 weep, alas! over his untimely grave. 
 
 In a notice like the present, much that is im- 
 portant must be necessarily omitted. It is scarce- 
 ly allowable, therefore, to exhibit even a tran- 
 sient view of the scintillations of genius in the 
 morning of life, when they are so completely 
 lost in the lustre of its meridian. Were such 
 a step admissible, it would be easy to show the 
 early and rapid development of the faculties of 
 Mr. Ames — that he surpassed, in vigour and acti- 
 vity of intellect, the companions of his childhood, 
 no less than the associates of his riper years. 
 
 At the age of six, he commenced the study of 
 the Latin tongue. Here the incompetency of 
 teachers, and the frequent interruptions he ex- 
 perienced in his scholastic pursuits, were serious 
 
LIFE OF AMES. "ZSC^ 
 
 barriers in the way of his improvement. The en- 
 ergy of his own mind, however, aided by a degree 
 of industry exemplary for his years, supphed the 
 want of every thing else, and hurried him along 
 in the road to knowledge. In the spring of 1770, 
 when his twelfth year was but little more than 
 completed, he was received as a student into 
 Harvard University. In his examination prepa- 
 ratory to his advancement he acquitted himself 
 with great reputation, and impressed his teachers 
 with respect for his talents. 
 
 During his continuance in that institution he 
 was exemplary, young as he was, for his atten- 
 tion to study, his irreproachable morals, his con- 
 ciliating manners, the mildness of his disposition, 
 and the general correctness and decorum of his 
 deportment. Although sportive and gay in the 
 hours of relaxation, he was neither a leader nor 
 an abettor of serious mischief; nor did he ever 
 consort with the dissipated or the vicious. He 
 was familiar only with those who were endea- 
 vouring to become familiar with letters; and his 
 attachments were to such alone as were them- 
 selves attached to honourable pursuits. 
 
 Although too young at this period to vie with 
 the first scholars of his class in the higher and 
 more abstruse branches of science, he was, not- 
 withstanding, in certain exercises, without a rival. 
 This was particularly the case in rehUon to the 
 art of practical oratory. In speaking and recit- 
 ing generally, but more especially in impassion- 
 ed declamation, he acquired and maintained an 
 acknowledged pre-eminence. The oratory of 
 
 y 
 
I 
 
 254 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 Mr. Ames continued to be cherished in Harvard 
 with fond recollection, long after it had ceased 
 to be heard within her walls. The invaluable 
 habits which he now contracted, and the excel- 
 lent character which he established as a colle- 
 gian, had a powerful influence on his future des- 
 tinies. So important is it for youth to enter 
 early on the paths of sobriety, order, and virtue; 
 and so true is it, that the blossoms of a college 
 life but rarely fail to be succeeded in age by 
 corresponding fruit. While engaged in his aca- 
 demical pursuits, the youth of Ames presented, 
 morally and intellectually, a miniature of his 
 manhood; exhibiting on all occasions the germ 
 of that knowledge which was afterwards to en- 
 lighten and direct his fellow citizens, and the 
 early flashes of that eloquence that was destined 
 to electrify the council chamber of the nation. 
 
 In 1774, when but a few months turned of 
 his sixteenth year, he obtained the degree of 
 Bachelor of Arts. As a pui'suit for life, both his 
 own inclination and the atlvice of his friends in- 
 duced him to direct his attention to the bar. But 
 his youth, the very limited income of his mother, 
 which rendered it expedient lor him to provide 
 means for his own subsistence, and the trouble- 
 some times that were now commencing, pre- 
 vented him from entering immediately on his 
 professional duties. 
 
 Some of the most distinguished men in New 
 England have been engaged for a time, after the 
 completion of their collegiate education, in the 
 instruction of vouth. To this honourable and 
 
LIFE OF AMES. ^55 
 
 useful employment, Mr. Ames appears to have 
 devoted several years of his life. But while 
 communicating knowledge to others, he was not 
 inattentive to his own improvement. His active, 
 capacious, and enterprising mind, collected in- 
 formation through every channel — observation 
 and reflection, conversation and study. He was 
 attentive also to the cultivation of his talents in 
 composition and oratory. But his chief pursuit 
 was classical and polite literature. He revised 
 with accuracy his college studies, and read all 
 the works he could procure that were illustrative 
 of the Greek and Roman antiquities. Virgil, 
 among the ancient, and Shakspeare and Milton 
 among the modern poets, appear to have been his 
 favourites. These he laid under heavy contribu- 
 tions, for the purpose of enriching and ornament- 
 ing his mind. Most of the splendid passages which 
 they contain he committed to memory, and would 
 occasionally recite them for the entertainment of 
 his friends. Although, from his own acknowledg- 
 ment, this course of reading was irregular and 
 desultory, it was, notwithstanding, highly impor- 
 tant to him. There can be little doubt that he 
 was deeply indebted to it, although himself, per- 
 haps, unconscious of the facts, for many of the 
 gorgeous specimens of imagery, which, at sub- 
 sequent periods of his life, burst forth with such 
 a lustre in his public speeches, heightening their 
 beauties, and adding to their efllect. 
 
 Mr. Ames conmienced, at length, the study 
 of the law, in the office of William Tudor, esq. of 
 Boston, and was admitted to the bar in 1781. 
 
•^56 LITE OF AMES. 
 
 Although he never drew his sword in the revo- 
 lutionary conflict, which had now been raging 
 for several years, he had been, with both his 
 pen and his tongue, the ardent and able advo- 
 cate of independence. He enriched the pubhc 
 prints of the day with many excellent produc- 
 tions, well calculated, from their warmth, their 
 patriotism, and their cogency of argument, to 
 animate the lukewarm and confirm the waver- 
 ing. Feeling, as forcibly as the human heart 
 can feel, a love of liberty and a detestation of 
 arbitrary power, and convinced that our cause 
 was righteous in itself, and would ultimately 
 prevail under the favour of Heaven, he was 
 highly instrumental in infusing into others a 
 similar sentiment, and impressing on their minds 
 a similar conviction. 
 
 From the time of his first admission to the bar, 
 Mr. Ames rose conspicuous over his youthful co- 
 temporaries. He was remarked already as a 
 pleader of uncommon eloquence, and a counsel- 
 lor of judgment extraordinary for his years. He 
 also, about this period, appeared with great re- 
 putation, as a writer of political essays, under the 
 signatures, first of Lucius Junius Brutus, and 
 afterwards of Camillus. His papers, young as 
 he was, were no less replete with the maxims of 
 wisdom, and the lessons of experience, than en- 
 riched by the fertility and adorned and enlivened 
 by the flashes of genius. They were written in 
 consequence of certain threatening commotions 
 which existed in Massachusetts, and produced 
 on the pubhc mind a very salutary effect. 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 25T 
 
 In 1788, he was a member of the convention 
 called in that state for the purpose of ratifying 
 the federal constitution. It was here that, for 
 the first time, his talents were exhibited in tiieir 
 full extent. They opened with a splendour that 
 astonished while it dazzled the assembly and the 
 public. His celebrated speech on biennial elec- 
 tions, delivered on this occasion, was not only 
 able and conclusive in argument, but was justly 
 regarded as a finished model of parliamentary 
 eloquence. It insured his election to a seat in 
 the house of representatives of the state legisla- 
 ture for the same year. 
 
 To such a pitch had his popularity now arisen, 
 that the highest places of honour and trust at 
 the disposal of his constituents were placed 
 within his reach. He was, accordingly, on the 
 establishment of the federal government, elect- 
 ed the first representative to Congress from Suf- 
 folk district, which included within its Hniits the 
 town of Boston. 
 
 His talents and attainments were now to en- 
 counter the severest tests. — An ordeal, which, 
 if passed in safety, would furnish decisive evi- 
 dence of their soundness and extent. — They 
 were to be brought into conflict and comparison 
 with those of the most distinguished statesmen of 
 the nation. The issue of the trial, arduous as it 
 was, did not long continue doubtful. The very 
 first struggle declared in his favour. He evinced, 
 at once, the strength of a giant and the skill of 
 an adept — the resources of age, pressed to their 
 object by the ardour of youth and the firmness of 
 y2 
 
258 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 nianhoocl. He appeared now to the nation at 
 large, what he had before appeared to the state 
 of Massachusetts, a statesman whose qnahfica- 
 tions were already great, his views honest, and 
 his love of country ardent and pure; but the 
 measure of whose promise was not yet filled up. 
 The correctness of this opinion was amply con- 
 iirmed by the course of events which aftervi^ards 
 ensued. For, although illustrious from the com- 
 mencement for his lofty eloquence and powers 
 of debate, he did not shine forth in all his bright- 
 ness till near the close of his congressional career. 
 He was eight years a leading member of the 
 house of representatives. During this period, 
 the most momentous duties that can occupy the 
 attention of a deliberative assembly were dis- 
 charged by Congress. The federal constitution 
 was in existence, but not in operation, for want 
 of the necessary arrangements and means. The 
 entire machinery of government was yet to be 
 constructed and put in motion. Accordingly, all 
 the civil departments were framed and establish- 
 ed; pi"ovision was made for the administration of 
 justice, and the restoration and maintenance of 
 public credit; and a system of internal taxation, 
 secure from the fluctuations and contingencies 
 of foreign commerce digested, niatured, and car- 
 ried into effect. In addition to these points, 
 others no less difficult and of superior delicacy, 
 repeatedly engaged the deliberations of the legis- 
 lature. By a wise and firm, a humane and 
 magnanimous policy, the friendship of the In- 
 dian tribes was seemed, serious differences with 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 259 
 
 some of the European nations were accom- 
 modated, and the country was saved from a 
 foreign war. Commerce was cherislied and 
 invigorated, a spiing was given to industry of 
 every description, and plenty and gladness were 
 spread over the land. 
 
 In the debates of the representative body on 
 these topics, which were unusually protracted and 
 highly animated, Mr. Ames always sustained a 
 most conspicuous part. While his wisdom im- 
 parted light to the minds of his colleagues, his 
 patriotic sentiments, impressed on their liearls 
 by the power of his eloquence, tended to confirm 
 them in the discharge of their duty. He was 
 at once tlie champion and trust of his own party, 
 the admiration of the house, and the favourite of 
 the pubhc. 
 
 His speech on the appropriation bill for carry- 
 ing into effect our treaty with Great Britain, was 
 the most august specimen of oratory he ever 
 exhibited, and may be regarded as constituting 
 an epoch in his life. For its influence on the 
 minds, and its ascendency over the feelings of 
 those who heard it — and the audience was dig- 
 nified, enlightened and refined — it was never, 
 perhaps, exceeded by any event in the history 
 of eloquence. In modern times, we recollect no 
 occurrence of the kind that appears to have 
 equalled it. As the circumstances attending it 
 were peculiar and interesting, a brief recital of 
 them will be pertinent to our purpose, as well, 
 we flatter ourselves, as gratifying to our readers. 
 
 The debate on the bill to which we have al- 
 
260 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 luded, had been continued to an extent that was 
 altogether unprecedented in the legislature of 
 the country. In the course of it, the expressions 
 of personal feelings had been freely indulged, 
 and the collisions of party inordinately keen. 
 The public mind, although deeply interested in 
 it at hrst, had grown weary of its length, and 
 was anxious now that it should be brought to a 
 close. The house itself, particularly the mem- 
 bers who had already spoken, gave strong indi- 
 cations of a similar desire. For several days 
 the question had been called for at the termina- 
 tion of every speech, sometimes with a vehe- 
 mence and pertinacity amounting almost to a 
 breach of decorum. 
 
 During all this time, Mr. Ames, in a very shat- 
 tered condition of health, and bowed down by a 
 load of mental despondency, had remained a 
 silent spectator of the conflict. He had deter- 
 mined, he thought inflexibly, not on any account 
 to mingle in the debate. He was, therefore, 
 wholly unprepared on the subject. He had even 
 endeavoured to persuade himself that a conscious- 
 ness of his inability to exert his faculties had ex- 
 tinguished in him all desire to speak. As the 
 moment, however, approached, when the vote 
 was to be taken, and, in his estimation, the die 
 cast, which must settle, perhaps for ages, the 
 fate of his country, his resolution forsook him, 
 and his patriotism triumphed over his prudence. 
 
 From an expectation on the part of some that 
 l!)e question would be that day decided, and of 
 others, that, perhaps Mr. Ames might, from a 
 
IIFE OF AMES. 261 
 
 Strong sense of duty, be prevailed on to speak, 
 the gallery and the lobbies were unusually 
 crowded. For refinement and intellect, wealth 
 and fashion, the flowerof Philadelphia was pre- 
 sent on the occasion. 
 
 In the midst of these circumstances, with a 
 pale countenance and a languid air, the orator 
 arose, and in a voice feeble at the commence- 
 ment, addressed himself to the chair. On wit- 
 nessing this patriotic exertion of their favourite, 
 the last perhaps he might ever make, the audi- 
 ence, who, in their keen impatience that the 
 debate should be closed, would have been 
 tempted to frown on any other speaker, re- 
 ceived him with an audible hum of applause. 
 To this involuntary expression of their satisfac- 
 tion succeeded a silence the most respectful and 
 profound. 
 
 Animated, for the time, by the powerful 
 workings of his own mind, and deriving from 
 the high importance of the conjuncture a degree 
 of strength to which his frame had long been a 
 stranger, the orator's ardour and energy in- 
 creased as he proceeded, his voice acquired a 
 wider compass, and he carried the house tri- 
 umphantly along with him. Never was mortal 
 gazed on with more steadfast attention, nor lis- 
 tened to with a superior degree of delight. Pale 
 and sickly as it was, his countenance was irra- 
 diated with unaccustomed fires; whatever fee- 
 bleness of voice might still remain, was reme- 
 died by its distinctness, and forgotten at times 
 in its exquisite intonations. 
 
262 - LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 He addressed himself to every faculty of the 
 mind, and awakened every sentiment and emo- 
 tion of the heart. Argmiient and remonstrance, 
 entreaty and persuasion, terror and warning, 
 fell, now like the music, and now like the thun- 
 der of Heaven, from his lips. He appeared like 
 patriotism eloquently pleading for the salvation 
 of his country. The effect produced is inde- 
 scribahle. He seemed to throw a spell over the 
 senses, rendering them indifferent, perhaps we 
 should say insensible, to every thing but himself. 
 So completely did he annihilate all perception 
 and prevent all measurement of the lapse of 
 time, that no one present had any idea of the 
 length of his speech. 
 
 When he ceased to speak, the audience 
 seemed to awake as from a dream of delight. 
 So lost were they in admiration; so fascinate_d 
 and subdued by the charms of his eloquence, 
 that no one had the natural command of his fa- 
 culties. Conscious of this, a member of distinc- 
 tion, whose sentiments were opposed to those of 
 the orator, moved for an adjournment, that the 
 house might have time to cool and recover it- 
 self before the vote should be taken; because, 
 said he, should the question be now decided, it 
 will be difficult for gentlemen to answer even to 
 themselves, whether the votes they may give be 
 the result of sound conviction or of high- wrought 
 sensibility, or whether in giving those votes they 
 be governed by reason or seduced by a charm. 
 A higher compliment to the powers of Ml*. 
 Ames, it was scarcely within the compass of Inn- 
 
LIFE 0¥ AMES, 263 
 
 giiage to bestow. Aa acknowledgment was im- 
 plied in it, that the most flexible resolutions of the 
 hmnan mind, and the firmest compact that party 
 can form, were in danger of being broken by 
 the force of his eloquence. 
 
 In consideration of his rank as a statesman 
 and a scholar, the college of Princeton confer- 
 red on him in the autumn of the same year the 
 honorary degree of doctor of laws. 
 
 He attended the succeeding session of Con- 
 gress, but owing to his infirm health, he did not 
 aspiro to his usual ascendency in business and 
 debate. Yet he was not a silent observer of 
 events. On a few occasions, when matters of 
 peculiar interest induced him to speak, he ap- 
 peared in nearly his accustomed splendour. 
 
 His time of service as a member of Congress 
 having expired, he declined a re-election, deter- 
 mining to abandon political, and to retire to pri- 
 vate and professional life. The interests of his 
 family, no less than the shattered condition of 
 his health, rendered this a necessary measure. 
 But his ever vigilant and sensitive mind was too 
 observant of passing occurrences, and too keenly 
 alive to the aspect of the times, to be entirely ab- 
 stracted from public affairs. 
 
 Still, therefore, to sustain the character of a 
 citizen watchful of the rights and interests of 
 his country, he became again a political writer. 
 He conceived that he beheld his fellow citizens 
 in slumbers while danger was approaching them, 
 and his object was to arouse, to enlighten, and 
 to alarm. For these purposes, his pen poured 
 
204 LlkTS, OF AMJas. 
 
 into the public presses the same streams of wis- 
 dom and eloquence, which formerly, in the house 
 of representatives, had fallen from his tongue. 
 But the sphere of his action, if not of his influ- 
 ence over the affairs of his country, appeared to 
 be increased. When in public life, he had spo- 
 ken but to hundreds, or at most to a few thou- 
 sands; but millions were included in his present 
 audience; for he addressed himself now to his 
 countrynjen at large, to his cotemporaries in 
 other countries, and to posterity. 
 
 His views in relation to political occurrences 
 were surprisingly clear. Even the mists of fu- 
 turity were unable to obscure the brightness of 
 his vision. Hence, in many of his predictions, 
 he might almost seem to have been enlightened 
 by a spirit of prophecy, so accurate were his 
 perceptions and so perfect his disclosure of 
 events that were to come. Of the correctness 
 of this statement his writings afford conclusive 
 testimony. 
 
 With but slight interruptions, occasioned by 
 sickness or some unusual pressure of profes- 
 sional business, he continued his contributions 
 to political literature as long as he was able to 
 exercise his pen. 
 
 Once only after his retirement from Congress 
 did he suffer himself to be placed in the council 
 of the commonwealtl) of Massachusetts. In the 
 year 1800, he prepared and pronounced, by pub- 
 lic appointment, an eulogy on Washington. In 
 1804, he was invited to the presidency of Har- 
 vard University. This honour he promptly de- 
 
LIFE Of AMES. 265 
 
 cliiied, assigning as his reasons the insufficiency 
 of his health, and the nntitness, as he beheved, 
 of his general habits for the perfect discharge of 
 the duties of the office. 
 
 About this period his disease, which was pul- 
 monary consumption, began to manifest more 
 formidable symptoms. His decline, although 
 slow, became regular and iminterrupted. His 
 debility of body was now extreme; but the acti- 
 vity of his mind was still considerable; and Tiis 
 firmness and fortitude remained unshaken. He 
 Wc ^ sustained in his sufferings by consolations 
 derived from a two-fold source — philosophy and 
 religion. He viewed his approaching dissolution 
 with the calmness of a sage, and looked beyond 
 it with the hopes of a Christian. Although few 
 men had more or stronger motives for wishing to 
 live — the ties of friendship and affliction, the 
 claims of his family, and the public honours 
 which solicited his acceptance; yet none could 
 meet death with more perfect tranquillity. In 
 his last moments he manifested the same spirit 
 of universal philanthropy, for which through life 
 he had always been remarkable: he embraced 
 in his solicitudes, not only his friends and his 
 country, but the human race. He died at his re- 
 sidence in Dedham, on the morning of the 4th of 
 July, 1808, in the fifty-first year of his age. 
 
 Possessing a mind of a great and extraordinary 
 character, Mr. Ames was peculiarly qualified to 
 instruct and delight, enlighten and adorn. His 
 reasoning powers were admirable, but he did 
 not reason in the form of logic. By striking al- 
 
 z 
 
2G(i LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 lusions more than by regular deductions, he com- 
 pelled assent. The richness of his fancy, the 
 fertility of his invention, both as to argument 
 and figure, and the abundance of his thoughts, 
 were as remarkable as the justness and strength 
 of his understanding. 
 
 He was not only a man of distinguished talents, 
 whose public career was splendid, but he was 
 amiable in private life, and endeared to his ac- 
 quaintance. To a few friends he unveiled him- 
 self without reserve. They found him modest 
 and unassuming, untainted with ambition, sim- 
 ple in manners, correct in morals, and a model 
 of every social and personal virtue. The charms 
 of his conversation were unequalled. 
 
 He entertained a firm belief in Christianity, 
 and his belief was founded on a thorough inves- 
 tigation of the subject. He read most of the 
 best writings in defence of the Christian reli- 
 gion, but his mind was satisfied by a view ra- 
 ther of its internal than its external evidences. 
 He thought it impossible, that any man of a fair 
 mind could read the Old Testament, and medi- 
 tate on its contents, without a conviction of its 
 truth and inspiration. The sublime and correct 
 ideas which the Jewish scriptures convey of God, 
 connected with the fact that all other nations, 
 many of whom were superior to the Jews in ci- 
 vilization and general improvement, remained 
 in darkness and error on this fundamental sub- 
 ject, formed in his view a conclusive argument. 
 After reading the book of Deuteronomy, he 
 expressed his astonishment that any man, versed 
 
i.irc or AMES. £67 
 
 ill antiquities, could have the hardihood to say 
 that it was the production of human ingenuity. 
 Marks of divinity, he said, were stamped upon 
 it. Being opposed to metaphysical and contro- 
 versial theology, he disliked the use of technical 
 and sectarian {)hrases. The term Trinity, how- 
 ever, he frequently used with reverence, and in 
 a niv^nner wiiich implied his belief of the doc- 
 trine. His persuasion of the divinity of Christ 
 he often declared, and his belief of this truth 
 s«^ems to have resulted from a particular inves- 
 tigation of the subject, for he remarked to a 
 friend, that he once read the Evangelists with 
 the sole purpose of learning what the Saviour 
 had said of himself 
 
 He was an admirer of the common translation 
 of the Bible; he considered it as a specimen of 
 pure English; and though he acknowledged 
 that a few phrases had grown obsolete, and that 
 a few passages might be obscurely translated, 
 yet he should consider the adoption of any new 
 translation as an incalculable evil. He lamented 
 the prevailing disuse of the Bible in our schools. 
 He tliought that children should early be made 
 acquainted with the important truths which it 
 contains, and he considered it as a principal in- 
 strument of making them acquainted with their 
 own language in its purity. He said, "I will 
 hazard the assertion, that no man ever did or 
 ever will become truly eloquent, without being 
 a constant reader of the Bible, and an admirer 
 of the purity and subhmity of its language.^' 
 
 Mr. Ames made a public profession of reli- 
 
268 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 gion in the First Congregational Church iu Ded- 
 nam. With this church he regularly communed 
 till precluded by indisposition from attending 
 public worship. His practice corresponded with 
 his profession. His life was regular and irre- 
 proachable. Few, who have been placed in si- 
 milar circumstances, have been less contami- 
 nated by intercourse with the woild. It is 
 doubted whether any one ever heard him utter 
 an expression calculated to excite an impious or 
 impure idea. The most scrutinizing eye disco- 
 vered in him no disguise or hypocrisy. His 
 views of himself, however, were humble and 
 abased. He was often observed to shed tears 
 while speaking of his closet devotions and expe- 
 riences. He lamented the coldness of his heart 
 and the wanderings of his thoughts while ad- 
 dressing himself to his Maker, or meditating on 
 the precious truths which he had revealed. It 
 is very satisfactory to find such high intellectual 
 powers harmonizing with religion and virtue. 
 
 In his last sickness, when near his end, and 
 when he had just expressed his belief of his ap- 
 proaching dissolution, he exhibited submission 
 to the Divine will and the hope of the Divine fa- 
 vour. " I have peace of mind,'' said he. " It 
 may arise from stupidity; but I think it is 
 founded on a belief of tlie Gospel." At the 
 same time he disclaimed every idea of meriting 
 salvation. "My hope," said he, "is in the 
 mercy of God through Jesus Christ." 
 
 Soon after his death, a selection from his po- 
 Htical essays was published in one volume of five 
 
lilFE OF DR. RUSH. 269 
 
 liuncired pages, octavo. His works are honourable 
 to his memory, and constitute a valuable addi- 
 tion to political literature. 
 
 DR. RUSH. 
 
 Benjamin Rush, M. D. was born on the 24th 
 of December, 1 745, on a small estate belonging 
 to his father, situated in Berberry township, 
 Idnnsylvania, and distant about twelve miles 
 from the city of Philadelphia. His family, who 
 were originally from England, had so long re- 
 sided in this country, that he was the third in 
 descent from the period of their emigration. He 
 was, thei'efore, no less in blood than in senti- 
 ment, a real American. His father died while 
 he was young; leaving him to the care of a good 
 mother. At an early age he was sent to the 
 grammar school of Nottingham, in the state of 
 Maryland, taught at tfie time by his maternal 
 uncle, the Rev. Dr. Samuel Finley, who was 
 afterwards president of the college of New 
 Jersey. 
 
 At the age of fourteen, he entered the college 
 just mentioned, then under the presidency of the 
 pious and eloquent Rev. Samuel Davies; and 
 graduated Bachelor of Arts in the autumn of 
 1760. His progress in study was rapid; and 
 evinced those intellectual qualities, by which he 
 was afterwards distinguished. In the art of 
 speaking he was peculiarly happy. On this at- 
 count his friends were inclined to commend the 
 z2 
 
^70 LIFE OF DR. lit^it. 
 
 profession of the law to his choice; but by the 
 advice of his old preceptor, Dr. Finlcy, who was 
 intimately acquainted with his genius and tem- 
 per, he fortunately, perhaps, selected the profes- 
 sion of medicine. He commenced his medical 
 studies, imder the direction of the late Dr. Red- 
 man of Philadelphia; with whom he continued 
 a student six years. It has been stated by his 
 eulogists, that, in this long apprenticeship, he 
 was absent from his studies only two days. Such 
 application was of itself ominous of future emi- 
 nence. 
 
 Having acquired such elementary knowledge 
 in medicine as the resources of his native coun- 
 try at that time afforded, young Rush, for the 
 completion of his education, repaired, in the 
 year 1766, to the school of Edinburgh, then in 
 the zenith of its utility and renown. He remain- 
 ed a student of medicine in that place, until the 
 spring of 1 768. He then obtained the degree 
 of Doctor of Medicine. His thesis was: "De 
 concoctione ciborumin ventriculo.'^ At the time 
 when he graduated, the celebrated Drs. Cullen, 
 Black, Gregory, and Robertson were professors 
 in the university. Dr. Rush spent the succeed- 
 ing winter in London; in the spring of 1769, 
 visited Paris; and in the summer returned to 
 Philadelphia. While travelling, he employed 
 every opportunity, of observation and society, in 
 the acquisition of science, and general learning 
 connected with medicine, 
 
 On the 1st of August, 1769, Dr. Rush was 
 unanimously elected professor of chemistry, in 
 
LIFE OF DR. RUSH. 271 
 
 the college of Philadelphia. He soon after his 
 settlement became extensively engaged in the 
 practice of his profession. At the same time he 
 devoted all his leisure from active study, to read- 
 ing and writing on subjects of science, morals, 
 and politics. He entered life in a very interest- 
 ing era. At this period in the history of the 
 United States, the people awoke from a long 
 lethargy, induced by the ease with which subsist- 
 ence was every where procured, and the tran- 
 quillity and contentment that arose from their 
 almost entire abstraction from the affairs of state. 
 Being colonists of Great Britain, their govern- 
 ment was administered chiefly by the agents of 
 the crown, the natives of old England. The 
 Americans had consequently fallen into a com- 
 plete monotony. But they now displayed a sud- 
 den ardour for innovation. Their passions were 
 stimulated to new desires; their intellectual fa- 
 culties to new energies. An elevation of thought 
 every where accompanied an elevation of con- 
 duct; and a thirst for pohtical liberty became 
 almost universal. In the midst of this fermenta- 
 tion, the genius of Dr. Rush was inspired by a 
 kindred excitement; and his heart glowed with 
 the ardour of a patript. The idea of emancipa- 
 tion from a colonial state, of ejecting a foreign 
 government, and of substituting a national inde- 
 pendence, generated enthusiasm, and quickened 
 enterprise among the people. The prospect was 
 charming to the philosopher, and the friend of 
 man. His heart exulted in the near approach 
 of national liberty. He caught up his pen at 
 
2752 LIFE or nil. RUSH. 
 
 once to enlighten and fortify the popular mind, 
 and stimulated to luminous action. Casting his 
 observation upon the state of society immediately 
 about his person, he beheld a portion of his fel- 
 low beings, in a condition not to be interested in 
 the question of national freedom. Individual 
 slavery was tolerated by the laws of the land in 
 which he lived. How, thought he, can a people, 
 holding thousands of human creatures in abject 
 bondage, look to the Creator of all for aid in a 
 struggle for national emancipation. 
 
 In the year 1771, Dr. Rush published essays 
 against tlie slavery of the blacks; and subse- 
 quently others on a topic nearly allied to person- 
 al liberty and individual rights — capital punish- 
 ments. In both he displayed popular talents as 
 a writer, and a temper consistent with pure mo- 
 rality and the spirit of Christianity. His labours 
 resulted in salutary modifications of the penal 
 code and a melioration of the condition of slaves, 
 at least in Pennsylvania. The penitentiary sys- 
 tem is a monument of his genius, and the gradual 
 disappearance of slavery in the state, an eulogium 
 on his memory. 
 
 Dr. Rush was an early and efficient advocate 
 for the independence of the colonies. Stimu- 
 lating his fellow citizens by his energy and ex- 
 ample, he encouraged them to resist the preten- 
 sions of the mother country. His labours were 
 not confined to his desk, or the circle of his 
 neighbours and friends. He was a member of 
 the continental congress, in 1776, and signed 
 the declaration of independence. 
 
LIFE OF DR. RUSH. 27^ 
 
 In 1777, he was appointed physician general 
 to the American army. This office he resigned 
 in 1778, and resumed the private practice oi' 
 medicine; the emoluments of which he had vo- 
 luntarily surrendered for a time to the higher 
 interests of his country. Having devoted him- 
 self, for nine years, to the duties of his profes- 
 sion, he appeared again on the political theatre. 
 In 1788, he was a member of the convention of 
 Pennsylvania, which adopted and ratified the 
 fr .leral constitution. 
 
 In 1 789, Dr. Rush was elected to the chair 
 of the " Theory and Practice of Physic^' in the 
 college of Philadelphia. In 1791, the college 
 of Philadelphia and the university of Pennsylva- 
 vania having been united, he was appointed to 
 teach the " Institutes of Medicine, and Clini- 
 cal Practice;" and, in 1805, "Professor of the 
 Institutes and Practice of Physic and Clinical 
 Medicine.'' 
 
 Dr. Rush was long treasurer of the United 
 States Mint; and thirty years physician to the 
 Pennsylvania Hospital. During the long period 
 of his professional services to this humane and 
 charitable institution, he never failed in his at- 
 tendance within ten minutes of the time appoint- 
 ed to prescribe for the patients, unless detained 
 himself by sickness. This fact seems to be well 
 authenticated at the hospital; and speaks a vo- 
 lume of praise on his constancy to duty, and 
 zeal for the cause of humanity. 
 
 In 1793, Philadelphia was invaded by that 
 dreadful epidemic, the yellow fever. The ser- 
 
i^74 LIFE* OP Dn. RLSJI. 
 
 vices of Dr. Rush, in that awful crisis, liave de- 
 servedly been celebrated in almost every part of 
 the world. His sympathy and professional skill, 
 displayed in the successful administration of re- 
 lief to the affected, have identified his name 
 with renown. In his amiable solicitude for the 
 recovery of his patients, no less for strangers 
 than acquaintances, no less for the poor than the 
 wealthy, he confronted death itself; fearless of 
 personal exposure, heedless of the envious deri- 
 sions of his remedies, and disregarding the mis- 
 representations of his motives. To many now 
 living he was, in that dreadful season of almost 
 universal calamity, a messenger of life; while 
 thousands, hurried away to the regions from 
 whose bourne no traveller returns, with their 
 expiring prayers invoked blessings on his head. 
 For weeks and months did he sacrifice his re- 
 pose, and, had Heaven so willed it, was fully 
 prepared to surrender his life — himself at once 
 the pious minister and the expiatory offering — 
 on the altar of humanity. In 1 798, the city was 
 visited by the same epidemic. So conspicuous 
 were the benefits of his services on this occasion, 
 and so incessant was his attendance at the hos- 
 pital, that the Board of Health complimented 
 him with an elegant piece of plate, appropriately 
 inscribed. 
 
 Dr. Rush's reputation occupied an extensive 
 sphere. It encompassed all Christendom. Of 
 this, unquestionable testimony can be cited. He 
 Avas an honorary member of almost all respecta- 
 ble literary and medical institutions in his own 
 
LIFE OF UR. RUSH. 275 
 
 country. He was presented with the freedom 
 of the city of Edinburgh, while a student in its 
 university; and at the same time was admitted a 
 member of the "Revokition Club." He was 
 chosen corresponding member of " The London 
 Society for the Encouragement of Arts and Ma- 
 nufactures," in 1772. In 1786. he was elected 
 a member of the " Milan Society of Arts and 
 Sciences;" and, jn 1791, of the German Society 
 of "Naturas Curiosorum." In the Hfetime of 
 president Washington, the earl of Buchan pre- 
 sented him a box, made of the oak that sheltered 
 the brave sir William Wallace, after the battle 
 of Falkirk, with a request that he would pass it, 
 on the event of his decease, to that citizen of the 
 United States who, in his opinion, should best 
 merit the compliment. President Washington, 
 deeming the selection too dehcate for him, in his 
 last will bequeathed the box to the earl, with 
 grateful thanks for the distinguished honour, 
 and more especially for the favourable senti- 
 ments by which it was accompanied. On the 
 decease of president Washington, the earl of 
 Buchan transmitted the box to Dr. Rush, with 
 the following letter:—" 20th February, 1803. 
 Dear sir, I do myself the pleasure to transmit 
 the box, which was bequeathed to me by the 
 illustrious defender and founder of the American 
 union. I pass it through your hands, who have 
 approved yourself a real friend to your country, 
 and an ornament to your important profession, 
 in the most dangerous conjuncture; when, like 
 another Sydenham, you exposed yourself to the 
 
'276 XIFK OF DR. ItUSII. 
 
 ravages of pestilence amidst general desertion of 
 domestic duty, to save useful lives. This noble 
 and exemplary conduct entitles you to the sin- 
 cere esteem of your obliged humble servant." — 
 Signed^ "Buchan:" and underwritten, "Dr. 
 Benjamin Rush, Philadelphia; with the box of 
 Wallace." This valuable curiosity, presented 
 originally to the earl of Buchan, by the Gold- 
 smith's Company of Edinburgh, after its last ar- 
 rival in the United States, was lost before it 
 reached the hands of Dr. Hush. It was stolen 
 from the gentleman who had it in charge, on the 
 road between New York and Philadelphia. 
 
 In 1805, Dr. Rush answered certain interro- 
 gatories from the Prussian government, on the 
 epidemic generally denominated yellow fever; 
 for which, as a compliment from the king, he 
 received a coronation medal; and in 1806, he 
 received the thanks of the king of Spain, for 
 answers to queries on the same subject. In 
 1807, he received a gold medal from the queen 
 of Etruria. In the same year he was chosen a 
 member of the National Institute, class of fine 
 arts; and a member of the School of Medicine, 
 at Paris. In 1811, Alexander, emperor of Rus- 
 sia, complimented his medical talents and cha- 
 racter with the presentation of a diamond ring. 
 
 The writings of Dr. Rush are popular, and 
 have been widely circulated. They are: Ser-- 
 mons to Gentlemen on Temperance and Exer- 
 cise ; Treatise on Inoculation ; Treatise on 
 Language; Treatise on the Moral Faculty; Let- 
 ter on Tetanus; Essay on Maple Sugar; Essay 
 
LIFE OF DR. Kt'SH. -277 
 
 Oil Capital Punisliments; Essays against Slavery; 
 Introductoiy Lectures; Essays, Moral, Literary, 
 and Pliilosophical; Medical Inquiries and Ob- 
 servations. This work embraces a number of 
 volumes, published at various times, from 1789 
 to 1811, which have passed through several 
 editions. His friend, the late Dr. Lettsom, a 
 distinguished physician of London, thus criti- 
 cised their contents: " Tlie work of professor 
 Rush, on the yellow fever, his publication on the 
 remittent bilious fever, and numerous other in- 
 teresting and luminous essays, now enrich the 
 libraries of many medical practitioners in Eu- 
 rope. I cannot omit noticing the vast effort of 
 genius, the novelty and bold decision in medical 
 practice, and the amplitude of experiment, which 
 his great work on the yellow fever every where 
 elicits. When this grand production, uniting, 
 in an almost unprecedented degree, sagacity and 
 judgment, fust appeared, Europe was astonish- 
 ed.'' 
 
 In 1802, Dr. Rush published a volume en- 
 titled, "Diseases of the Mind," a creditable me- 
 morial of his literary and professional abilities. 
 In a record of his literary labours, his letter to 
 Dr. Belknap, on t!ie use of the Bible as a school- 
 bookjiis oration on the death of Dr. Cullen, and 
 his splendid eulogium on the life and character 
 of the philosopher Rittenhouse, dehvered before 
 the American Philosophical Society, deserve to 
 be enumerated. Besides, Dr. Rush published 
 many valuable essays in the different periodical 
 journals of his country; not a few of which have 
 A a 
 
278 LlVit. OF J)R. RISH. 
 
 been translated into tlie various languages 6i' Eu- 
 rope, and reprinted there with the most favoura- 
 ble criticisms. In the latter years of his life, Dr. 
 Rush confined his reading to medical and re- 
 hgious books. These he read, with facihty, in 
 Latin, Greek, French, Italian, and Spanish. 
 In his native tongue he conversed and wrote 
 with perspicuity and elegance. Perceiving the 
 twilight of age advancing, he had designed to 
 conclude his literary and professional writings 
 by a work to be entitled, " The Medicine of the 
 Bible.^' It appears from notes in his possession 
 at his death, that his leisure had, for some time, 
 been devoted to the preparation of such a work 
 for the press. On his death bed, he regretted 
 that he had not been able to complete it. His 
 notes in this particular were too scanty to de- 
 velop the plan, or enable another hand to per- 
 fect it. The world, especially the friends of 
 Christianity, have to lament the dispensation 
 which prevented its execution by his pen. 
 
 Dr. Rush was occupied forty-three years in 
 the practice of physic. Though he never en- 
 joyed robust health, such were the regidarity 
 and temperance of his habits, he seldom suffer- 
 ed severely from indisposition. In his last years, 
 he was somewhat troubled with tussis sinilis. 
 This did not come unexpectedly upon him. 
 He had, from his youth, certain pulmonary 
 symptoms, that threatened him with consump- 
 tion. He died of an epidemic called " Typhus," 
 or "Spotted Fever," on the 19th of April, 1813. 
 Throughout his affliction, he continued perfect- 
 
J-lIE OF Dll. IILSH. 'ZTd 
 
 ly rational; and in the utmost composure resign- 
 ed his long and glorious life. His last moments 
 were spent in prayer and suitable preparation 
 for an expected departure to an eternal world. 
 In the afternoon of Easter Sunday, at his own 
 request, he was visited by the venerable Bishop 
 AVhite, who conversed and prayed with him. At 
 this time his disease was not supposed danger- 
 ous: but in the course of the night he grew 
 worse, and died the succeeding day. On the 
 day of his departure, Mrs. Rush felt his forehead, 
 and informed him that he was in a fine perspira- 
 tion. " My dear," he replied, " it is not a good 
 symptom." Shortly afterwards, he added; "My 
 excellent wife! I must leave you! but God will 
 take care of you!" Then, dropping from one of 
 his hands a handkerchief, he clasped his hands 
 together, and, with his eyes lifted towards hea- 
 ven, in the most solemn and devotional manner, 
 said; "By the mystery of thy holy incarnation; 
 by thy holy nativity and circumcision; by thy 
 baptism, fasting, and temptation ; by thine agony 
 and bloody sweat; by thy cross and passion; by 
 thy precious death and burial; by thy glorious 
 I'esurrection and ascension; and by the coming 
 of the Holy Ghost; blessed Jesus! wash away my 
 icmaining impurities, and receive me into thy 
 everlasting arms." He spoke indistinctly after- 
 wards: but the preceding was the last sentence 
 he uttered which could be comprehended. A 
 solemn and long procession went with his re- 
 mains to the grave. The circumstances of his 
 funeral gave ample testimony of his living worth. 
 
'280 riFE or DR. RUSH. 
 
 The sod, which covers his body, was hterally 
 bedewed with the tears of thousands of his lellow 
 citizens. 
 
 Dr. Rush married, in tlie year 1776, Miss 
 Juha Stockton, daughter of the venerable and 
 much respected patriot, Richard Stockton, of 
 New Jersey. This amiable lady, and a nume- 
 rous, respectable family of children, yet live to 
 mingle their grief with the sorrows of a whole 
 community, for the loss of their great and good 
 relative. 
 
 It would be supererogation to eulogize the 
 character of Dr. Rush as a physician. Its 
 celebrity, as shown in the premises, cannot be 
 enhanced by posthumous praise. In the chair, 
 as professor, he was an able teacher, and popular 
 lecturer. In his own family, among his friends, 
 in the round of his civil and professional duties, 
 in every relation to society, his hfe was irre- 
 proachable. No one, it is believed, would 
 qualify his memoirs with one exception. More 
 could not be said in support of his excellence 
 as a man; and it is presumed that justice would 
 award this meed to his memory. Of his leligious 
 character, we shall speak from the opinions of 
 pious and eminent preachers of the Gospel, who 
 had often conversed with him, and were well 
 qualified to form correct sentiments on a subject 
 of great concern to the world — the religious 
 character of Dr. Rush. Above his eminence, 
 said the Rev. Doctor Staughton, as a patriot and 
 physician, rose his character as a Christian. 
 Convinced of the ti'uth of the Scriptures, he en- 
 
LIFE OF DR. RUSH. 281 
 
 deavoured to promote their universal circulation. 
 His defence of the Bible, as a school-book, 
 written at a time when infidelity carried a more 
 brazen front than at the present day, has been 
 eminently beneficial to his country. He was a 
 prime mover of the Philadelphia Bible Society, 
 the first established in the United States; drafted 
 its constitution, and was one of its vice presidents, 
 from its organization until his death. Much ac- 
 customed to study the sublime truths of the Gos- 
 pel for their own internal evidences, he fre- 
 quently noted remarkable passages, which he 
 sometimes presented to his friends and corres- 
 pondents, with pious, ingenious, and instructive 
 expositions. His professional lectures in the 
 University, were adorned with the richest beau- 
 ties of the inspired volume. His illustrations 
 were variegated with the colours of heaven. 
 
 Though the whole religious creed of Dr. Rush 
 may not have accorded entirely with that oi any 
 Christian denomination, his cardinal opinions 
 were evangelical. His dependence for eternal 
 life was alone on the atonement of the Son of 
 God. He consecrated his sincerity on this de- 
 pendence by receiving the sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper. He frequently and publicly 
 communicated in the Episcopalian and Presbyte- 
 rian churches; towards the close of his life, 
 chiefly in the First Presbyterian Church of Phi- 
 ladelphia, under the pastoral care of the Rev. 
 Dr. James P. Wilson. He was uniform in the 
 discharge of Christian duties, and died profess- 
 ing a hope in the Saviour of sinners. Of his sen- 
 AaS 
 
282 LIIE Of Dll. Rl SH. 
 
 timents of the Christian reh'gion, Dr. Rush has 
 left the following precise and satisfactory record. 
 " The perfect morality of the Gospel rests upon 
 a doctrine, which, though often controverted, 
 has never been refuted — the vicarious life and 
 death of the Son of God. This sublime and in- 
 effable doctrine delivers us from the absurd hy- 
 pothesis of modern philosophei's, concerning 
 the foundation of moral obligation, and fixes it 
 upon the self-moving principle of love. The 
 miraculous conception of the Saviour of the 
 world, by a Virgin, is not more opposed to the 
 ordinary course of events, nor is the doctrine of 
 atonement more above human reason, than those 
 moral precepts which command us to love our 
 enemies, or even to die for our friends.^' This 
 precious paragraph completely answers the vo- 
 lumes of vulgar derision on the Saviour's birth, 
 writt.en by Voltaire, Paine, Volney, and their 
 consociates. There is not one man, above the 
 condition of an idiot, who will not admire the 
 sentiment and morality of that precept which 
 teaches us to love our enemies; yet, if we scru- 
 tinize the human heart, and rightly analyse the 
 nature of all its motives and propensities, we 
 shall at once see that the duty which Chris- 
 tianity enjoins, in this particular, is not more 
 contrary to our real characters and dispositions, 
 while in an unregenerated state, than the miracles 
 of the Gospel are opposed to the infidel's law of 
 nature. It has been deemed proper to say this 
 much, in illustration of Dr. Hush's religious sen- 
 timents, because his speculations, on the struc- 
 
LIFE OF DR. KUSII. 
 
 ture and nature of mind, had given rise to some 
 suspicions of their correctness. Whatever may 
 have been his opinions as to the nature of the 
 soul, it is not perceived that, nevertheless, his 
 convictions of the truth of the Gospel, and the 
 necessity of the atonement, could not be per- 
 fectly evangelical. It is believed they were. 
 
 The predominant trait in the character of Dr. 
 Rush as a man was benevolence. He was one 
 of the founders of the " Society for the Abolition 
 of Slavery;" and since the year 1803, until his 
 death, was annually and unanimously elected its 
 president. He was a leader in the erection of 
 an African Episcopal church in Philadelphia. 
 In testimony of their gratitude for these services 
 in their behalf, the black people of the city soli- 
 cited and obtained permission to walk in proces- 
 sion to the grave, before the remains of their 
 beloved benefactor. 
 
 The following anecdote in his life will afford 
 sincere delight to every generous reader. He 
 once visited an unfortunate debtor in jaiJ, con- 
 fined by some barbarous and unchristian cre- 
 ditor. To the family of the debtor, while in 
 good circumstances, he had been many years 
 physician. On taking leave of the unfortunate 
 prisoner, the doctor put into his hands a sum of 
 money, which exceeded the aggregate of all the 
 fees he had formerly received from him in com- 
 pensation of professional services. Memorable 
 illustration of humanity and benevolence! worthy 
 to be recorded on the same page with the para- 
 ble qf the Samaritan, Dr. Rush exempted from 
 
284 LIFE OF BR. RUSH. 
 
 charge ministers of the Gospel, and auxiliaries 
 of the sick. He conscientiously appropriated 
 the emolument of his practice on Sabbath days 
 to charitable uses. To these, and many other 
 anecdotes, should be added his essays against 
 slavery and capital punishments, all tending to 
 manifest the dominion of benevolence over his 
 heart. If to his professional celebrity be added 
 his reputation for benevolence, patriotism, and 
 piety, the character of Dr. Rush will bear com- 
 parison with any benefactor of the human race. 
 His name is a brilliant star in the galaxy of Ame- 
 rican worthies. His fame associates with the 
 renown of Howard, Sydenham, Cullen, Boyle, 
 Newton, Davies and Washington. His memory, 
 like their memories, will endure until time shall 
 be immersed in the ocean of eternity. 
 
 His person was above the middle stature, and 
 his figure slender but well proportioned. His 
 forehead was prominent, his nose aquiline, his 
 eyes blue and highly animated, and his mouth 
 and chin expressive and comely. The diameter 
 of his head from front to back was uncommonly 
 large. His features combined bespoke the 
 strength and activity of his intellect. His look 
 was fixed, and his whole demeanour thoughtful 
 and grave. 
 
 In private life his disposition and deportment 
 were in the highest degree exemplary. Admired 
 and courted for his intellectual endowments, he 
 rivetted to him the affections of all who enjoyed 
 the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance. The 
 affability of his manners, the amiableness of his 
 
LIFE OF DR. ItUSH. 285 
 
 temper, and the benevolence of his character, 
 were ever conspicuous. He was ardent in his 
 friendships and I'orgiving in his resentments, and 
 yet entertaining a due regard for himself and a 
 liigh sense of honour, he possessed a manly in- 
 dependence of spirit which disdained every thing 
 mean and servile. He had an extraordinary 
 command of language, and always imparted his 
 thoughts in a peculiarly impressive and eloquent 
 manner. Those who had the happiness to ex- 
 perience tiie delights of his conversation, will 
 long recollect with pleasure his unassuming mo- 
 desty, and the rich stores of knowledge he 
 poured forth on the most instructive topics. 
 Even when his opinions were solicited they were 
 given, not as the dictates or admonitions of a su- 
 perior, but as the kind advice of a friend and 
 equal. He never evinced any of that haughti- 
 ness and affectation of importance which some- 
 times attaches to men of eminence, and which 
 so materially lessens the pleasures and comforts 
 of social life. 
 
 Such was Dr. Rush. " For nearly three thou- 
 sand years past," says Mr. Delaplaine, "but few 
 physicians equal in greatness have appeared in 
 the world; nor is it probable that the number will 
 be materially increased for ages to come. A 
 great physician is as rare a personage as a great 
 monarch/' 
 
-86 LIFE OF DR. RAMSAY. 
 
 DR. RAMSAY. 
 
 David Ramsay, M. D. an eminent physician, 
 distinguished patriot, and popular historian, was 
 born in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, on the 
 2d of April, 1749. He was the youngest son of 
 James Ramsay, an Irish emigrant, and a respect- 
 able, intelligent, and enterprising agriculturist. 
 Mr. Ramsay, as was his custom with all his sons, 
 gave to his son David the advantages of a liberal 
 education. He was first sent to a common Eng- 
 lish school; afterwards transferred to a classical 
 academy; and thence to the college of New Jer- 
 sey, where he graduated in 1 765. Between the 
 age of twelve, and the period when he was 
 crowned with the honours of one of the most 
 respectable seminaries in the United States, he 
 exhibited many evidences of a vigorous and do- 
 cile intellect, and evinced a degree of industry 
 rarely to be found in youths of genius. The 
 peculiar bent of his mind was early manifested. 
 In reading the Bible, at school, or in his father's 
 house, while yet in his almost infantile yeai's, he 
 discovered a singular attachment to its historical 
 parts; and was particularly distinguished in ex- 
 tempore recitations, of the miHtary and political 
 events recorded in the sacred volume. This 
 trait he cultivated, until his death; and his name 
 and his memory are not a little indebted to it 
 for the celebrity they now bear. At the age of 
 twelve, he had completed the academical studies 
 
LIFE or DR. RAMSAY. 2^7 
 
 preparatory to an introduction in college: but, 
 by his judicious father and other friends, he 
 was deemed too young to commence a collegiate 
 course. In the meanwhile he was appointed 
 assistant tutor in a reputable academy, at Car- 
 lisle; and acquitted himself in that station so as 
 to acquire the esteem and command the admi- 
 ration of those who directed the interests of the 
 institution. He remained at Carlisle one year, 
 and thence proceeded to Princeton, where, not- 
 withstanding his adolescence, he was found com- 
 petent to vie with the sturdiest genius in his 
 classes. 
 
 From Princeton he went into Maryland, and, 
 for two years, in the capacity of a private tutor, 
 superintended the education of the children of 
 a respectable private and wealthy gentleman. 
 His leisure was profitably employed in general 
 reading, and the cultivation of useful knowledge. 
 Somewhat more matured in person, and conver- 
 sant in the affairs of the world, he thought of the 
 selection of one of the public professions; all of 
 which were so respectable, and so inviting to a 
 young gentleman, whose genius had passed fa- 
 vourably the ordeal of competition, and whose 
 reputation, as a scholar, was already extended 
 over his country, as to render an election of the 
 greatest concern. He finally resolved on the 
 study of medicine. He pursued his object with 
 unremitting assiduity, and closed his preparatory 
 course, in the college of Pennsylvania, early in 
 the year 1772. 
 
 While a student of medicine Dr. Ramsay be- 
 
28b LIFE OF DR. RAMSAY, 
 
 came acquainted with the late Dr. Benjamin 
 Rush, of Philadelphia, then professor of chemis- 
 try in the medical college. Their acquaintance 
 grew into a strict alliance of friendship and af- 
 fection, which terminated only in the grave. 
 
 Dr. Ramsay commenced the active duties of 
 his profession in Maryland, where he continued 
 to practise for the space of one year. Thence 
 he emigrated to Charleston, South Carolina. At 
 this time, he carried with him a letter of recom- 
 mendation, from his friend Dr. Rush, which 
 announced him in very flattering terms. " Dr. 
 Ramsay,^' said Dr. Rush, " studied physic regu- 
 larly with Dr. Bond, attended the hospital, and 
 public lectures of medicine, and afterwards gra- 
 duated Bachelor of Piiysic, with great eclat. It 
 is saying but little of him to tell you, that he is 
 far superior to any peison we ever graduated at 
 our college. His abilities are not only good 
 but great. His talents and knowledge are 
 universal. I never saw so much strength of 
 memory and imagination united to so line a 
 judgment. His manners are polished and agree- 
 able; his conversation lively; and his behaviour, 
 to all men, always without offence. Joined to 
 all these, he is sound in his principles, strict, nay 
 more, severe in his morals, and attached, not by 
 education only, but by principle, to the dissent- 
 ing interest. He will be an acquisition to your 
 society. He writes, talks, and, what is more, 
 he lives well. I can promise more for him in 
 every thing, than I could for myself" Enthu- 
 siastic as this drawing may seem, Dr. Ramsay 
 
LIFli OF liK. IIAMSAI. £89 
 
 proved by his future life that it was faithful. A 
 probation of forty years confirmed the opinions 
 of his friend. 
 
 Soon after his settlement in Charleston, Dr. 
 Ramsay acquired great celebrity as a physician, 
 and rose to very high eminence among his fellow 
 citizens. His activity and usefulness were not 
 confined to his profession. He took a leading 
 part in the public affairs, and was well qualified, 
 by his talents and general knowledge, to counsel 
 and direct, in the very interesting crisis that 
 shortly followed his domiciliation in Carolina. 
 In the revolutionary strggle, he was an enthusi- 
 astic whig, and exerted all his powers to promote 
 the independence of his country. No reverses, 
 no misfortunes, ever caused his patriotism to 
 waver. He was constant in his attachment to 
 the cause of republicanism; and boldly depre- 
 cated the surrender of the cause of liberty, even 
 in the most gloomy and inauspicious seasons. 
 On the 4th of July, 1778, he delivered an ora- 
 tion to the citizens of Charleston, in which he 
 explicitly asserted, that " our present form of 
 government is every way preferable to the royal 
 one we have lately renounced." It ably illus- 
 trates the advantages of a newly established re- 
 publican government, which he contended was 
 best calculated to bring into action the energies 
 of the human mind; to entice from obscurity 
 modest and retiring merit; to obviate the bane- 
 ful effects of luxury; to preserve innocence and 
 morality among the people; to diffuse know- 
 ledge; to equalize property; and to promote pub- 
 lic virtue and true religion. I^is oration had 
 Bb 
 
i2UU J.IFE 01' DR. IIAMS.VT. 
 
 the most salutary effects upon the dispositions 
 and resohitions of the inhabitants of Charleston. 
 His pen was constantly employed in defence of 
 the revolution, and in the reprobation of those 
 sordid affections, which led too many to prefer 
 a little property, and self accommodation, to the 
 independence of their country and the ultimate 
 liberty of the people. Among the many fugitive 
 essays which he wrote on various occasions, du- 
 ring the revolution, one entitled " A Sermon on 
 Tea," was deservedly popular. The text was 
 taken from Paul's epistle to the Colossians, 2d 
 chapter, 21st verse. "Touch not, taste not, 
 handle not." The sermon was a happy appeal 
 to the patriotism of the people, who considered 
 the use of tea the source of the greatest evils. 
 It humorously caricatured the British premier 
 with chains and haltei's in one hand, and a cup 
 of tea in the other; while the genius of Ame- 
 rica exclaimed, touch not, taste not, handle not; 
 for in the day thou drinkest thereof, thou shalt 
 surely die. 
 
 Dr. Ramsay, in his early years, was greatly 
 distinguished for wit and humour. He carefully 
 watched over these traits; and in his riper years 
 prudently refrained from their indulgence. It 
 was only in moments of relaxation they could 
 be detected in his conversation. 
 
 For some time, he attended the army in the 
 capacity of surgeon; and was with the Charles- 
 ton Ancient Battalion of Artillery at the siege 
 of Savannah. His political career commenced 
 with the revolution ; and during its continuance 
 he was ever actively and usefully engaged. He 
 
LIFE OF Dll. liAMSAY. 291 
 
 was an active and leading member of the legis- 
 lature of South Carolina, from 1776 to the con- 
 clusion of* the war. He was a member of the 
 privy council part of the time; and, with many 
 of the most respectable citizens of Charleston, 
 suffered banishment, by the enemy, to St. Au- 
 gustine. In an excliange of prisoners, Dr. Ram- 
 say was released, and permitted to return to the 
 United States, after an absence of eleven months. 
 On his return he resumed his seat in the legisla- 
 ture of the state, then sitting at Jacksonborough. 
 It was here he was distinguished by a concilia- 
 tory humanity, in his opposition to the acts con- 
 fiscating the estates of those who adhered to 
 Great Britain. Though convinced that the con- 
 duct of some of those who came under the ope- 
 ration of those acts merited the severest punisli- 
 ment, yet he tenderly commiserated many who 
 he was persuaded acted from the dictates of 
 their consciences. The latter he would have 
 exempted from the penalties of confiscation. 
 
 In 1782 Dr. Ramsay was elected a member 
 of the continental Congress. In that body he 
 was distinguished for his industiy and intelli- 
 gence. He greatly commended himself to tiie 
 confidence and affection of his constituents, by 
 his exertions to procure them relief from the ra- 
 vages of the enemy, who then ovenun their 
 country. At the close of the war he returned 
 to Charleston, and resumed the practice of phy- 
 sic. In 1785, he was elected to represent the 
 Charleston district in Congress. In consequence 
 of the absence of the president of that board, the 
 
J292 LI'PE OF DR. RAMSAY. 
 
 celebrated John Hancock, Dr. Ramsay was 
 chosen the president pro tempore, and presided 
 for a whole year with ability, industry, and im- 
 partiality. During the following year, he again 
 returned to the duties of his profession, which 
 he pursued with increased reputation. Dr. Ram- 
 say was a fluent, rapid, and ready speaker. His 
 style was simple; his reasoning logical and per- 
 suasive, and his illustrations pertinent and ori- 
 ginal. 
 
 In his political life, Dr. Ramsay was an ex- 
 ample of pure disinterestedness. The good of 
 his country preponderated all other considera- 
 tions. He was an unsophisticated republican, 
 and never changed his principles. He never in- 
 termeddled with mere party politics; was chari- 
 table towards all who differed from him in opi- 
 nions; and in his conversation and writing en- 
 deavoured to allay invidious passions, and incul- 
 cate unanimity among the American people. 
 
 As an author. Dr. Ramsay became exten- 
 sively celebrated. In this regard his reputation 
 is well established, not only throughout the Uni- 
 ted States, but in Europe. He excelled in the 
 department of history. His talents, education, 
 habits of observation, industry, memory, and im- 
 partiality, eminently fitted him for an historian. 
 His History of the Revolution in South Carolina, 
 was published in 1 785. This work obtained great 
 celebrity in the United States, and was shoi'tly 
 after its appearance translated and published in 
 France, and was read with avidity in every part 
 of Europe. While he was a member of Con- 
 
l,IFfi OF DR. RAMSAY. 293 
 
 gress in 1785, he prepared his History of the 
 American Revolution. In the prosecution of 
 this enterprise, he carefully inspected all the 
 puhlic records which related to the revolution^ 
 conferred freely and frequently with his venera- 
 ble friends. Dr. Franklin and Dr. Witherspoon; 
 and visited general Washington at Mount Ver- 
 non, who gladly coinnuinicated every informa- 
 tion in his power, to enable the historian to fur- 
 nish to the world a true record of the events that 
 resulted in the establishment of American inde- 
 pendence. He published the History of the 
 American Revolution in 1790. This work passed 
 the ordeal of criticism, and is esteemed of high 
 rank in Europe, as well as in the United States. 
 It passed through two large editions, and is now 
 entirely out of the market. In 1801 Dr. Ram- 
 say published the Life of Washington. In this 
 biography, the character of the illustrious foun- 
 der of the independence of the United States is 
 well sustained. In 1808 he published the His- 
 tory of South Carolina, being an extension of an 
 interesting work, entitled, "A Sketch of the 
 Soil, Chmate, Weather, and Diseases of South 
 Carolina," published in 1796. 
 
 In 181 1, Dr. Ramsay compiled and caused to 
 be published, the memoirs of his estimable wife, 
 recently deceased. Besides the works men- 
 tioned, he published, at different periods, " An 
 Oration on the acquisition of Louisiana;" "A 
 Review of the improvements, progress, and 
 state of Medicine in the eighteenth century;" 
 "A Medical Register for the year 1802;" "A 
 Bh2 
 
'294 LIFE OF mj. RAMSAr. 
 
 Dissertation on the means of preserving Health 
 in Charleston;" "A Biographical Chart, on a 
 new plan, to facilitate the study of History;" 
 and " An Eulogium on Dr. Rush." 
 
 Among the manuscripts left by Dr. Ramsay, 
 on his decease, were, " A History of the United 
 States, from their first settlement as English co- 
 lonies, to the end of the year 1808;" and a se- 
 ries of historical volumes, to be entitled, " Uni- 
 versal History Americanised; or a historical 
 view of the world, from the earliest records to 
 the nineteenth century, with a particular refer- 
 ence to the state of society, literature, religion, 
 and form of government in the United States of 
 America." The first was published early in the 
 year 1817, with a continuation to the treaty of 
 Ghent, by the Rev. Samuel Stanhope Snnth, 
 D. D. and L. L. D., and other literary gentle- 
 men, in three volumes, octavo. The latter had 
 occupied the leisure of the historian more than 
 fprty years. It yet remains to be published. 
 
 Of Dr. Ramsay it has been truly said, that no 
 miser was ever so precious of his gold, as he was 
 of his time. He was not riierely economical, but 
 parsimonious of it to the highest degree. He 
 never allowed for the table, recreation or repose, 
 a single moment that was not demanded for the 
 preservation of health. In his habits he was 
 strictly temperate. He usually slept four hours, 
 rose before the light of day, and meditated with 
 a book in his hand until he could see to read. 
 His evenings only were allotted to recreation. 
 He never read by the light of a candle. With 
 
LIFIS or DR. KAMSAV. 295 
 
 the approach of twihght he laid aside his book 
 and his pen, and surrounded by his family and 
 friends, indulged those paternal and social feel- 
 ings which are ever cherished by a good man. 
 
 The predominate trait in the character of Dr. 
 Ramsay was philanthropy. It was the motion 
 of all his actions. In the constant exercise of 
 his disposition to do good, he frequently em- 
 barked in enterprises too mighty to be accom- 
 plished by an individual. In this way his private 
 fortune was wrecked. His genius and enter- 
 prise carried him, in his anticipations, far before 
 the multitude, vvhp generally tread on the heels 
 of experience. Thus he was frequently tempted 
 to vest private revenue in projects and specula- 
 tions that had for their object ultimately the pub- 
 lic benefit, and immediately a demonstration of 
 their practicability, to enlist auxiliaries both of 
 character and means. Running before his co- 
 temporaries, who were generally more attached 
 to their money than enterprises for the improve- 
 ment of the country, he was sometimes consi- 
 dered visionary. And indeed the result of his 
 life proved, that he was better qualified to direct 
 the affairs of a nation than manage a private for- 
 tune. The great concerns to which he con- 
 stantly directed his reflections, were the im- 
 provement of the moral, social, intellectual, and 
 physical state of his country. To disseminate 
 the doctrines of the Bible, to promote public 
 schools and colleges, and to carry commerce to 
 every man^s door by means of artificial roads, ca- 
 nals, and the channels which nature formed, 
 
296 LiFE OF DR. RAMSAY. 
 
 were objects that lay near to his lieart. In most 
 of them he was considered enthusiastic. Impel- 
 led by his devotion to these subjects, he laboured 
 incessantly to inspire the public mind with feel- 
 ings and dispositions favourable to his views. 
 For forty years the press teemed with the pro- 
 ductions of his pen, designed exclusively to ele- 
 vate the spirit, taste, and virtues of his fellow ci- 
 tizens, and to improve, beautify, and felicitate 
 their common country. It is beheved that the 
 literary labours of Dr. Ramsay have contributed 
 very much to impress upon the American cha- 
 racter those traits which, without vanity we may 
 assert, have raised the United States to a level 
 with any nation of tlie globe. Such services can 
 nevQr be recompensed. Money could not com- 
 pensate them. Fame, the gratitude of the peo- 
 ple, and the happiness of his own posterity, in 
 a country made happy by his labours, can alone 
 requite them. The first he has secured, the se- 
 cond begins to be lavished on his memory, and 
 the third it is hoped will be realised. His chil- 
 dren are now objects of endearment to many 
 noble-spirited ladies and gentlemen, whose sym- 
 pathies, we trust for the honour of the American 
 people, will comuiunicate through the whole na- 
 tion. They have a double claim on the liberahty 
 of their country. To them the people are debt- 
 ors for the services of their father, and for the 
 services and sufferings of their grandfather, the 
 patriotic Henry Laurens. 
 
 In his private character. Dr. Ramsay was a 
 kind and indulgent husband; an affectionate and 
 
tIFE 01' DR. RAMS.iY. 297 
 
 anxious parent; an instructive and entertaining 
 companion. He was a pattern of modesty, sim- 
 plicity and meekness, in his intercourse with 
 mankind. He never arrogated any superiority 
 over his associates, whether surrounded by his 
 family at his own fireside, or classed with sena- 
 tors and sages; and he has often remarked, that 
 he was greatly debtor to this happy tempera- 
 nient, for much of the most useful information 
 he gathered in his pilgrimage through life. The 
 distance, which most men of eminence observe 
 towards what are called the middle and lower 
 classes of society, deprive them of many oppor- 
 tunities of knowledge. Dr. Ramsay sought in- 
 formation from all sources; and by the blandness 
 of his manners would encourage even his own 
 servant to impart the result of his humble expe- 
 rience and observation. 
 
 The most charming trait in the character of 
 Dr. Ramsay was piety. He was a member of 
 and in full communion with the Independent or 
 Congregational Church in Charleston. It would 
 be expected, from the philanthropy and bene- 
 volence of his disposition, that he cherished lit- 
 tle prejudice against other sects. This w^as the 
 fact. The leading affections of his heart, when 
 touched by the influence of the Gospel, grew 
 into charity as extensive as the human family; 
 and he counted every one, who did the will of 
 his Heavenly Father, a brother in Christ. The 
 last scene of his life proved the reality of his 
 faith in Jesus the Saviour of sinners, and the 
 solidity of his pretensions to the character of a 
 
298 Lllli OF J. ADAMS. 
 
 great man. His expiring moments heightened 
 the lustre of his life. He was assassinated in 
 the street, a few paces from liis own dwelling, in 
 the open day, by a wretched maniac, whose in- 
 tellectual malady had not been such as to re- 
 quire his confinement. He was shot by a pistol 
 loaded with three balls: one passed through the 
 coat without injury; another entered the hip, 
 and passed out at the groin; and the third en- 
 tered the back near the kidnies, and lodged in 
 the intestines. The last wound proved mortal 
 the second day after it was received. He died 
 on the 8th of May, 1815. On his death-bed he 
 evinced not the slightest resentment towards the 
 unhappy man by whose hand he fell. He bore 
 testimony of his innocence in the following em- 
 phatic terms: "I know not if these wounds be 
 mortal. I am not afraid to die: but should that 
 be my fate, I call on all present to bear witness, 
 that I consider the unfortunate perpetrator of 
 this deed a lunatic, and free from guilt." He 
 died without one perturbed emotion. He met 
 death with a serene, composed, and confident 
 I'eliance on the mercy of God, through the 
 blood of the Redeemer. 
 
 J. ADAMS. 
 
 About the year 1 730, a man by the name of 
 Henry Adams came from England, with seven 
 sons, all of whom were married. The father 
 and one of the sons settled in the town of Brain- 
 
LIFE OF J. ADAMS. 299 
 
 tree, about ten miles from Boston, in the then 
 province of Massachusetts Bay. The other 
 sons, excepting one, who returned to England, 
 fixed tlieir abode in several other parts of the 
 same province. Their descendants have multi- 
 plied in the common proportion known to the 
 experience of this country, and the name is one 
 of those most frequently met with in almost 
 every part of this commonwealth. They were 
 originally farmers and tradesmen; and until the 
 controversies between Great Britain and the 
 colonies arose, scarcely any of them had emerged 
 from the obscurity in which those stations were 
 held. Few of tliem, before that time, had pos- 
 sessed the advantages of education. The father 
 of the late governor of Massachusetts, Samuel 
 Adams, was the first of the name distinguished 
 in any public character. lie was a merchant 
 in Boston, and for some time a representative of 
 that town in the general assembly of the pro- 
 vince. 
 
 Samuel Adams, and John Adams, were both 
 descended from the first Henry, but by two of 
 the sons. They were, therefore, remotely con- 
 nected in blood; but there is a very early in- 
 cident in the life of each of them, which seems 
 to indicate, that the spirit of indepeQidence, 
 which is so strongly marked in the history of 
 the New England colonies from their first set- 
 tlement, had been largely shared by the family 
 from which they came, and instilled with all its 
 efficacy into their minds. 
 
 John Adams was born at Braintree, in Mas- 
 
300 LIFE OF 3. ADAMS. 
 
 sachusetts, on the 19th of October, 1735. After 
 the usual course of studies, he toojt his degree 
 of Bachelor of Arts in 1755, and that of Master 
 in 1758. There has been j3ubhshed in the 
 Monthly Anthology, a letter written by him in 
 the year 1 755, and in the twentieth year of his 
 age; written to one of his youthful companions. 
 Dr. Nathan Webb, and in which the probability 
 of a severance of the British colonies fioni the 
 mother country; the causes from which that 
 event would naturally proceed, and the policy 
 by which Britain might prevent it, are all indi- 
 cated with the precision of prophecy. The date 
 of this letter, the age at which-it was written, 
 and the standing in society of the writer at the 
 time, are circumstances which render it re- 
 markable; no copy of it was kept; but its con- 
 tents appear to have made a strong impression 
 upon the peison to whom it was wiitten. He 
 carefully preserved it, and dying many years 
 afterwards, it fell into the possession of his 
 nephew. In his hands it remained until about 
 the year 1807; when, after the lapse of more 
 than half a century, he sent it as a curious docu- 
 ment, back to the writer himself 
 
 Mr. Adams was by profession a lawyer; and 
 such were his abilities and integrity, that he at- 
 tracted the attention, the esteem, and the confi- 
 dence, of his fellow citizens. Not contented 
 with barely maintaining the I'ights of individuals, 
 he early signahzed himself in the defence of the 
 rights of his country and of mankind at large, by 
 writing his admirable Dissertation on the Canon 
 
LIFK OF J. ABAMS. 30t 
 
 and feudal laws; a work well adapted to con- 
 vince or confound the advocates either for civil 
 or ecclesiastical tyranny. It evinced that he 
 had abilities to afford powerful aid in the forma- 
 tion of republics, on the genuine principles of 
 justice and virtue. 
 
 The zeal and firmness with which Mr. Adams 
 defended the liberties of his country, did not pre- 
 vent his acting in the service of her enemies, 
 when he thought they were treated with too 
 much severity. Called upon by his profession, 
 he boldly stood forth as the advocate of captain 
 Preston, who had been imprisoned as the mur- 
 derer of some of the citizens of Boston, on the 
 memorable 5th of March, 1770. His client's 
 cause was most unpopular- The whole town 
 had been in a state of irritation, on account of 
 the conduct of governor Hutchinson, and the 
 troops which were stationed in it. Their re- 
 sentment now burst into a flame. But he felt 
 the cause to be a just one; and the danger of 
 incurring the displeasure of his countrymen 
 could not deter him from undertaking it. He 
 conducted the cause with great address, by 
 keeping off the trial till the passions of the peo- 
 ple had time to subside. The trial at length 
 commenced, and lasted several days, during 
 which he displayed the most extensive know- 
 ledge of the laws of his country, and of humani- 
 ty; and at the conclusion he had the satisfaction 
 of proving to Great Britain herself, that the citi- 
 zens of Massachusetts would be just and humane 
 to their enemies, amidst the grossest Insults and, 
 c c 
 
30;2 lilfK OF J. ADAMS. 
 
 provocations. Captain Preston was acquitted. In 
 this most delicate and important trial, Mr. Adams 
 manifested that firmness of mind, that disin- 
 terested and enlightened patriotism, and the love 
 of justice and humanity, which have uniformly 
 marked his conduct in all those great depart- 
 ments which he has since filled with so much 
 ability and dignity. 
 
 He was a member of the first Congress in 
 1774; and was one of the principal promoters 
 of the famous resolution of the 4th of July, 
 1776, which declared the American colonies 
 free, sovereign, and independent states. 
 
 Having been for a considerable length of time 
 one of the commissioners of the war department, 
 and a principal suggester of the terms to be of- 
 fered to France, for forming a treaty of alli- 
 ance and commerce, he was sent to the court of 
 Versailles, as one of the ministers plenipoten- 
 tiary of the United States, to consummate the 
 important business. 
 
 On his return from France, he was called up- 
 on by Massachusetts, to assist in forming a plan 
 of government; and to him this state is chiefly 
 indebted for their present excellent constitution. 
 
 After the important business was accomplish- 
 ed, he returned to Europe, vested with full 
 powers from Congress, to assist at any conference 
 which might be opened for the establishment of 
 peace; and he soon after received other powers 
 to negotiate a loan of money for the use of the 
 United States; and to represent them as their 
 minister plenipotentiary to their High Mighti- 
 
LIFE OF J. ADAMS. 303 
 
 nesses the States General of the United Pro- 
 vinces. Such important trusts show in what 
 high estimation he was held by his country, and 
 the able and satisfactory manner in which he 
 executed them, proved that their confidence was 
 well placed. 
 
 While in Europe, Mr. Adams published his 
 learned and celebrated work, entitled, " A De- 
 fence of the Constitutions of Government of the 
 United States of America;" in which he advo- 
 cates, as the fundamental principles of a free 
 government — equal representation, of which 
 numbers, or property, or both, should be the 
 rule — a total separation of the executive from 
 the legislative power, and of the judicial from 
 both — and a balance in the legislative by three 
 independent equal branches. " If there is one 
 certain truth," says he, " to be collected from 
 the history of all ages, it is this; that the people's 
 rights and liberties, and the democratical mix- 
 ture in a constitution, can never be preserved 
 without a strong executive; or, in other words, 
 without separating the executive power from the 
 legislative." 
 
 A character who rendered such eminent ser- 
 vices to his country both at home and abroad, in 
 seasons of the greatest gloominess and danger, 
 and who possessed such an extensive knowledge 
 of politics and government, did not remain un- 
 noticed by his grateful countrymen. He was 
 called in the year 1789, by the choice of his 
 country, to the vice presidency of the United 
 States, which office he filled during the eight 
 
S04 ilFE OF J. ADAMS. 
 
 years of the Washington administration, when 
 by the voice of his country he was called to the 
 presidency of the United States. He adminis- 
 tered the government for four years, when, in 
 March, 1801, Mr. Jefferson was elected as his 
 successor. 
 
 The difficulties which Mr. Adams had to en- 
 counter during his administration were various 
 and great. In the violence of party it was to 
 be expected, that a diversity of opinions would 
 exist concerning the wisdom of some of his mea- 
 sures; but impartial history will do justice to the 
 distinguished merits of this great and honest 
 man, and enrol his name among the most emi- 
 nent patriots and politicians of the age in which 
 he lived. 
 
 " They who have had an opportunity of know- 
 ing his excellency, Mr. Adams," says a Euro- 
 pean writer, " trace in his features the most un- 
 equivocal marks of probity and candour. He 
 unites to that gravity which is suitable to the dig- 
 nity of his station, an affability which prejudices 
 you in his favour. Although of a silent turn, as 
 is common to men who engage in important af- 
 fairs, yet he has a natural eloquence for the dis- 
 cussion of important subjects, and for the re- 
 commending and enforcing the measures and 
 systems which are dictated by sound policy. He 
 has neither the corrupted nor corrupting princi- 
 ples of lord Chesterfield, but the plain and vir- 
 tuous demeanour of sir William Temple. Like 
 him also, he is simple in negotiation, where he 
 finds candour in those who treat with him. 
 
LIFE OF JEFFERSON. 305 
 
 Otherwise, he has the severity of a true republi- 
 can; his high idea of virtue giving him a rigid- 
 ness, which makes it difficult for him to accom- 
 modate himself to those intrigues which Euro- 
 pean poHtics have introduced into negotiation." 
 
 JEFFERSON. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, late president of the 
 United States, is descended from ancestors who 
 were among the earliest emigrants to this coun- 
 try. He was born in Chesterfield county, Vir- 
 ginia, on the second day of April, 1 743. 
 
 After he had completed his education at the 
 college of William and Mary, he commenced the 
 study of the law under the direction of George 
 Wythe, the chancellor of Virginia. In his pro- 
 fession he afterwards attained to great celebrity. 
 
 In the year 1769, he was chosen a member 
 of the legislature of his native state, and soon 
 became conspicuous among his colleagues, who 
 were, many of them, some of the most eminent 
 lawyers of Virginia. 
 
 In June, 1775, the propositions of lord North 
 were laid before the assembly: to Mr. Jefferson, 
 who was still a member of the same, was assigned 
 the duty of framing the reply of the house. This 
 year he was elected a member of Congress. He 
 is the author of the declaration of independence. 
 The original draught experienced some trivial 
 alterations, but it is believed to have been alter- 
 ed very little for the better. 
 JD c2 
 
306 J.li-'E or JEFFERse.X. 
 
 By a resolution of the general assembly oi 
 Virginia, dated November 5, 1776, Thomas Jef- 
 ferson, Edmund Pendleton, George Wythe, 
 George Mason, and Thomas Ludwell Lee, were 
 appointed a committee to revise the laws of the 
 commonwealth. This was a work of very great 
 labour and difficulty; but the comnnltee of re- 
 visers did not disappoint the expectations of their 
 country. In the commencement of their labours, 
 they were deprived of the assistance whicii might 
 have been received from the abilities of Messrs. 
 Mason and Lee, by the death of the one and the 
 resignation of the other. The remaining three 
 prosecuted their task with indefatigable activity 
 and zeal, and on the 18th of June, 1779, made 
 a report of one hundred and twenty-six bills, 
 which they had prepared. This report showed 
 an intimate knowledge of the great principles of 
 legislation, and reflected the highest honour 
 upon those who formed it. The people of Vir- 
 ginia are indebted to it for almost all the best 
 parts of their present code of laws. Among the 
 changes then made in the monarchical system 
 of jurisprudence, which had been previously in 
 force, the most important were effected by the 
 act abolishing the right of primogeniture, and 
 directing the real estate of persons dying intes- 
 tate to be equally divided among their children, 
 or other nearest relations; by the act for regu- 
 lating conveyances, which converted all estates 
 in tail into fees simple, and thus destroyed one of 
 the supports of the proud and overbearing distinc- 
 tions of particular families; and finally by the act 
 
LIFE OV JEFFERSON. .jOT 
 
 for the establishment of rehgious freedom. Had 
 all the proposed bills been adopted by the legis- 
 lature, other changes of great importance would 
 have taken place. A wise and universal system 
 of education would have been established, giving 
 to the children of the poorest citizen the oppor- 
 tunity of attaining science, and thus of rising to 
 honour and extensive usefulness. The propor- 
 tion between crimes and punishments would have 
 been better adjusted, and malefactors would have 
 been made to promote the interests of the com- 
 monwealth by their labour. But the public 
 spirit of the assembly could not keep pace with 
 the liberal views of Jefferson, Pendleton, and 
 Wythe. 
 
 In the year 1779, he was chosen to succeed 
 Patrick Henry, as governor of Virginia, and w^as 
 reappointed the following year. In 1782, he 
 was appointed a minister plenipotentiary, to join 
 those in Europe, but before the vessel in which 
 he was to embark could leave the port in con- 
 sequence of the ice, intelligence was received 
 that the provisional articles of peace between the 
 United States and Great Britain had been sign- 
 ed, and Congress of course dispensed with his 
 leaving America. 
 
 On the estabHshment of peace, and the conse- 
 quent opening of a general commercial inter- 
 course, plenipotentiary commissions for the con- 
 cluding treaties of commerce, were given to 
 Thomas Jetferson, Dr. Franklin, and John 
 Adams, addressed to the several powers of Eu- 
 rope, and Mr. Jefferson sailed from the United 
 
508 LtFE OF JEi-FEUSON. 
 
 States in July, 1784 A commercial treaty with 
 Prussia was the only result of these general 
 commissions; immediately after the signing of 
 whicli, Dr. Franklin returned to America, and 
 Mr. Jefferson was appointed his successor as 
 minister plenipotentiary to France. A short 
 time previous to the expiration of the joint com- 
 mission, he crossed over to London, with Mr. 
 Adams, to endeavour to promote, between the 
 government of the United States and Great Bri- 
 tain, a cordial connexion of inteiests, and, among 
 the terms they proposed to offer, was an ex- 
 change of naturalization of citizens and vessels, 
 as to every thing relating to commerce or cona- 
 mercial navigation. The ministers were re- 
 ceived by lord Carmarthen, and their commis- 
 sions read, but he evaded every attempt they 
 made to procure a conference on the subject; 
 and a few days only before their commissions 
 would have expired, and after seven weeks at- 
 tendance in London, Mr. Jefferson returned to 
 Paris. 
 
 Among the principal benefits which he gained 
 for the United States by the negotiation at the 
 court of Versailles, were the abolition of seve- 
 ral monopolies, and the free admission into 
 France of tobacco, rice, whale oil, salted fish, 
 and flour; and of the two latter articles into the 
 French West India islands. 
 
 On his return from France, in the year 1 789, 
 he was appointed to the office of secretary of 
 state, which beheld to the 1st of January, 1794, 
 when he resigned it and retired to private life. 
 
LIFE OF JEFFERSON. 509 
 
 In 1797 he was elected vice president of the 
 United States, and in 1801, president. Elevated 
 to the chief magistracy of the union, he conti- 
 nued in this important station till the year 1809, 
 when he declined a third election, being anxious 
 again to return to the scenes of domestic life. 
 
 " The interdiction of commercial intercourse 
 with other nations, the most prominent measure 
 perhaps of his administration," says Mr. Dela- 
 plaine, '* appears to have been imposed by cir- 
 cumstances growing out of the peculiar state of 
 the relations of foreign belligerent powers, who 
 deemed it essential to the maintenance of their 
 own, to invade the rights of neutrals. This mea- 
 sure promised, while it secured our property and 
 our seamen, to compel a redress of wrongs, by 
 depriving the aggressors of a trade which had 
 become of considerable importance to them. 
 The continuance of the embargo by Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, notwithstanding the frequent evasions or 
 infractions of the law, was approved by some, 
 while it was considered by others as injurious to 
 the interests of the nation. 
 
 " It may be proper to state this fact, but it would 
 not well comport with the principles upon which 
 this work is conducted, to offer any opinion, 
 were we competent, on a subject which has 
 been so much discussed by the ablest men of our 
 country, and upon whose merits it is for the na- 
 tion at large to decide. 
 
 " Mr. Jefferson has been charged with a parti- 
 cular animosity towards England, and with a con- 
 stant desire to engage the United States in a war 
 
310 ilFE OF JEFFERSON. 
 
 with that nation. But it would seem, if the pro- 
 traction of the embargo, when the country cried 
 out for war, did not disprove this charge, that, 
 at least his conduct on another occasion might, 
 in every impartial mind. The insult to our na- 
 tional sovereignty, offered by the British vessel 
 of war the Leopard, excited but one sensation 
 throughout the United States. Mr. Jefferson 
 strove to allay, and did allay, the violent excite- 
 ment in the public mind, and for the time, by his 
 individual moderation averted war: and although 
 his forbearance in this instance may. not be ap- 
 plauded by all his friends, surely it did not bear 
 the face of much consistency in those who had 
 before reproached him with having cherished 
 hostile propensities, then to censure him for his 
 pacific disposition. 
 
 "An undue partiality for France, and a corres- 
 pondence and connexion with Bonaparte, have 
 been urged against him; but his conduct, during 
 the very fever of democratic sympathy, in 1793, 
 ought to confute the former charge; and the lat- 
 ter is almost too preposterous to be seriously 
 met. Mr. Jefferson never for an instant could 
 look upon tlie ambitious schemes and despotic 
 acts of Napoleon in even his accustomed spirit 
 of toleration. He was precisely such a ruler as 
 Mr. Jefferson could not possibly like. For the 
 rest, if it be necessary to say so, no private let- 
 ter, message, communication, or present of any 
 kind, ever passed between them." 
 
 Mr. Jefferson was chosen to succeed Dr. Rit- 
 tenhouse, as president of the American Philoso- 
 
JLirB OF JEFl'ERSOX. 311 
 
 phical Society, and is a member of several lite- 
 rary societies in Europe as well as America. He 
 is, perhaps, one of the most learned men our 
 country has produced. He published his " Sum- 
 mary View of the Rights of British America," 
 in 1774; "Notes on Virginia," in 1781. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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