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V 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 AjT this enlightened period of the world, when the tendency 
 of all knowledge is so well understood and so justly appreciated, 
 we might well, perhaps, he excused from dwelling on the uses 
 and advantages of biography. The interest which that species of 
 writing awakens in the human mind is also a subject conclusively 
 established, as well by the experience of every individual, as by 
 the universal and ininiemorial usages of society. 
 
 From the earliest ages which history or tradition lays open to 
 our inspection, no branch of literature has attracted more gene- 
 rally the attention of tlie enlightened, or been cultivated with a 
 higher and fonder devotion, than that which records the lives 
 and actions of illustrious men. This has been more espcjiyally 
 the case, where a love of country, the pride of consan^nHR||k 
 or a sense of gratitude for favours received, has contributed to 
 strengthen the common sentiment. We can scarcely be persuaded 
 that there exists, in any class of society, an individual of a tem- 
 perament so cold and unfeeling, or possessed of a mind so lost 
 to all that is elevated in human nature, as not to experience 
 
ii PREFACE. 
 
 emotions of pleasure, and even a temporary melioration of the 
 heart, on reading an account or listening to a recital of the 
 virtue, tlie visdom, or the glory of his countrymen. While the 
 biographer, therefore, does justice to those, who, by their attain- 
 ments or actions, their wisdom or virtue, have already distin- 
 guished themselves, he offers, in his Avritings, tlie strongest 
 incentives to stimulate others to an honourable emulation. 
 
 By all who are versed in the knowledge of antiquity it is well 
 understood, that, among the ancient Greeks and Romans, no 
 writings were held in higher estimation, or, by those who could 
 have access to them, more frequently read, than the biographical 
 productions of Nepos and Plutarch. We are even informed that, 
 to render their contents the more fiimiliar to the youthful mind, 
 the study of them constituted a part of a liberal education. 
 
 Yet it cannot be denied, that there existed in those monu- 
 ments of genius an eminent defect, which detracted not a little 
 from theu' interest and value. They contained no likenesses of 
 the great men whose lives and actions they so ably recorded. 
 To ^delineation of the mind they did not subjoin a portraiture 
 
 The precise amount that would have been added to the value 
 of these works, by the insertion of such likenesses, it is not, 
 perhaps, altogether practicable to determine. Being a point of 
 sentiment and taste, rather than of arithmetical calculation, it 
 belongs to every one to settle it for himself. Ko doubt, how- 
 
PREFACE. iii 
 
 ever, can exist, that, in general estimation, the amount would 
 have heen considerable. To possess well executed portraits of 
 those exalted personages who directed, in their day, the desti- 
 nies of the world, and the effect of whose wisdom and learning, 
 elo<iueiice and energy has descended even to the present times, 
 would be a matter of high and peculiar interest. By many per- 
 sons — perhaps a majority of those who might possess them — 
 the works of the artist would be prized beyond even those of the 
 writer. 
 
 In the pages of the Repository pains have been taken and 
 heavy expences incurred, to remedy the defect that exists in the 
 writings of the ancient biographers. The engravings which those 
 pages contain, besides being sufficiently elegant and ornamental, 
 are correct and striking likenesses of the distinguished characters 
 they are intended to represent. While the text shall communicate 
 to remote posterity what, at a former period, the leading men of 
 America thought and performed, the portraits accompanying 
 it will give a view of their features and general aspect, their 
 costume and air. Thus by the combined operations of the type 
 and the graver will a correct image of the whole man be exhi- 
 bited to view. 
 
 In relation to a future and distant period, such is the peculiar 
 merit which the Repository possesses. Of its suitableness to 
 the present times, every reader will, probably, chum the privilege 
 of judging for himself. 
 
IV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 There exist, if we mistake not, substtintial reasons, why such 
 a work is more especially riMiuisite in the United States than in 
 any other country ; and why it should he, thcrelbre, more liberally 
 patronized. 
 
 It is well known that since the first colonization of the new 
 world, eftbrts have been made by the Mriters of Pinrope, to degrade 
 the character of the natives of America. The people of the Mest, 
 although the immediate descendants of European ancestors, have 
 been declared to bo inferior, both in body and intellect, to those 
 who ure born in the eastern hemisphere. 
 
 This assertion, however improbable in appearance and un- 
 founded in fact, Mas so often repeated, and maintained Mith such 
 cftrontery, as to gain, at length, a very general currency in 
 America as well as in Europe, and to be received, perhaps, by a 
 majority of the people of both conntries as a settled truth. Nor 
 has it been found an easy task to dissipate completely the popular 
 delusion. 
 
 But, from various causes, which it might not be pertinent to 
 our purpose to mention, the spell is broken ; and, provided Ame- 
 ricans be true to themselves, can never be restored, to reduce 
 asrain to bouda<>"e the human mind. 
 
 For the fidfilment. in part, of our duty on this subject, let us, 
 from time to time, portray to the world, with the pen and the pen- 
 cil, some of the most distinguished and worthy of our country- 
 men — representing them faithfully as they ai-e. in body. mind. 
 
PHEFACE. V 
 
 and action. Lot a fair comparison be instituted between tbcm and 
 European cliaracters, and a decision formed on grounds of jus- 
 tice. Witbout intending an insinuation unfiivourable or offensive 
 to tbe people of other countries, wc cannot besitate to express 
 our conviction, tbat Americans will bavc no cause to blusb for 
 tbe issue. It will be found, under evidence wbicb cannot be re- 
 sisted, tbat, by a removal to tbe new world, man bas sustained 
 no deterioration eitbor in body or in mind. Perbaps even tbe 
 reverse will appear most pro!)able. 
 
 Tbe writer of tbe following- Lives, altbougb not bimself very 
 favourably disposed towards tbe apologies of autbors, cannot close 
 tbis preface witbout expressing bis regret, tbat a multiplicity of 
 circumstances beyond bis controul, bave prevented bim from 
 paying, to tbe composition of tbe work, tbat strict attention 
 wbicb tbe subjects of it required, and wbicb, witbout incurring, 
 as be bopes, tbe imputation of vanity, be ventures to believe, 
 would bave enabled bim to render it more wortby of tbe patron- 
 age of an enligbtened public. 
 
 PinL\DF.I,PTII\,^ 
 
 May 24, 1816. J 
 
'tx^ 
 
 
 CONTF.NTS. 
 
 LIFE OF COLUMBUS . page 1 
 
 OF VESPUTIUS 19 
 
 OF DR. BENJAMIN RUSH 27 
 
 OF .\MES 45 
 
 OF HAMILTON 61 
 
 OF WASHINGTON 81 
 
-^ 
 
LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 \ V ERE the influence and consequences of human actions regarded as a 
 correct standard for the admeasurement of the characters of those who per- 
 fonn them, Christopher Columbus couhl 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 of 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, wlien the whole of the new world shall have been inhabited for 
 centuries bylciviliicd man, it l)elongs not to the foresiglit of mortals to 
 discern. Calculation is confounded, and conjecture itself /lost in the vastness 
 and variety of the prospect. Without meaning, however, to speak boastfully 
 or extravagantly on the subject, Ave fancy we can discover in the nature of 
 things grounds for believing, that through her physical advantages, conjoined 
 with the high qualities and improved condition of her inhabitants, America 
 is destined to become the arbiter of the eai-th. To every mind, then, of 
 sensibility and A-irtue, how deep must be the regret, and how painful the 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
2 LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 tlisai)|)()intment, to find, that the man, who, by liis wiscUnn and virtue, 
 perseverance and fortitude, had aclueved so much I'or his cotemporaries 
 and posterity, received in return, from those whose interests and glory he 
 had most cireclually subserved, neglect and ingratitude, imprisonment and 
 chains ! 
 
 CiiRiSToi'iii-.u Coi.umhus, a C«enoese by ))irth, was l)orn in the year 1447- 
 His fatlier, tluuigh neither erudile nor wealthy, had the discernment to dis- 
 cover, at an early age, the extraordinary genius and i)romise of his son, and 
 the lil)erality to bestow on him the l)est education (hat Genoa ccnild afford. 
 No sooner had his faculties begun fairly to unfold tluMnselves, than the youth 
 manifested a strong predilection for maritime pursuits. In tliis, his inclina- 
 tion, far from being opposed, was cherished and invigorated by every 
 measure calculated to (pialify liini for the profession of his clioice. He was 
 accordingly instructed by the al)lest teachers in drawing and history, 
 mathematics and astronomy, cosmograjihy ami the Latin tongue, the only 
 language through the medium of wliich learning and science were at that 
 time inculcated. 
 
 The first adventures of yonng Columbus, in his favourite vocation, were 
 comparatively diminutive. They consisted in coasting voyages to some of 
 the contigin)us ])orts »)f the Mediterranean, lieing perfornl'd, however, 
 under commanders.selected for the purpose, on account of their ability and 
 naval knowledge, ami most sedulously improved by the youth himself, they 
 served for the completion tif his professional education, ami the communi- 
 cation of that degree of ex|)erience and, skill which were the best preparatives 
 for the career that awaited him. 
 
 The whale-fishery in the polar seas had now become an oliject of maritime 
 enterprize, especially with the English and some of the hardy nations of the 
 
LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 3 
 
 north. A knowled.^e of this did not fail to awaken the aml)ition of the 
 aspiring Genoese, though yet but a youlli, and possessed of a constitution 
 inured only to the mild and equable climate of Italy. He accordingly 
 embarked on a voyage to the northern ocean, in the prosecution of which 
 he penetrated beyond the boundaries of Iceland, bringing back with him, 
 as the fruits of it, but very little else than an increased stock of professional 
 skill, and more expanded views in the science of cosmography : for, however 
 wealth might elude his grasp, to a mind like his every new appearance of 
 nature, whether presented by land or by sea, was a school of instruction. 
 By braving, moreover, the rage of the polar tempests, and com])ating the 
 dangers that threatened him from immense masses of drifting ice, his prac- 
 tical seamanship was improved, and tlie boldness and hardihood of his spirit 
 confirmed, preparatory to higher and more daring exploits. 
 
 On his return home he found a naval war raging between his country- 
 men and the Turks and Venetians. A scene of action and glory like this 
 exhibited charms which he was unable to resist. Hence, without allowing 
 him time to repose after his toils. Ids ardent thirst for honourable exploit 
 hurried him into the strife and tumult of arms. After he iiad signalized 
 himself in various actions, and acquired some wealtli but much more of 
 reputation and know ledge, an accident occurred which terminated for the 
 time his naval career, and, but for his presence of mind and dexterity in 
 swimming, would have deprived the world of his life and ser\ices. During 
 an obstinate conflict with a Venetian galley, the vessel he commanded was 
 discovered to be in flames. But one mode of safety and escape presented 
 itself. This, though altogether desperate and appalling, he had the intre- 
 pidity to adopt without hesitation. He threw himself into the sea, and, 
 after swimming about two leagues, lauded unhurt on the coast of Portugal. 
 
LITE or f'oijTMnus. 
 
 His lintllior l{;irlli(tl()nicw rcsidiiij:; iluMi in liishoii, lio voi)airo(l tliillior as 
 soiin !is lie Ii.kI siinicinid.y loc'dvoied IVom the latigue iiidaced by his late 
 cxliiiordiimrv cxcitidiis. 
 
 l'orliiy;nl was al (iiis i»(>ri(t(l a holltcd of advnitmv. The passion of 
 llic jMiMic \\as tor niariliiiic discov«>rv on a hfoad seah": luit (lirir more 
 |)aili(iilar ohjoci was (lir ii( lies of India, w hi( h wore now llowing to tlic 
 \ rntliaiis (liion^h llic (inlf of Arahia. Tlit' scluMnc of tho Por(nii;nese was 
 to o|»fn a loiilc to llial somcr of wealth l),v passini; aronnd the south point 
 of AlVica. the possihilitv of ica( liin<; it l>,v steering- to the west having never 
 been a::;ilMled excii as a siiliject of conjivtiiie. until it occnrred to the fertile 
 mind of Colninlins — a ^rand and niosi iVliiitous tlionjijht. which led to the 
 dis<"o\erv oi" another world. 
 
 'I'he lame of that :;real mariner liaving already reached tlie conrt of 
 l'orlni;al. hi- reception in liisittniwas hi;:;ldy flattering. Many persons of 
 fortune and family invited him to liieir houses, and treated him with all the 
 attentiini and respei t due lo a man pre-eminent alike in intellectual attain- 
 ments and untral worth. Anntngst these was Perestrello. a chosen follower 
 of prince lleurv of Portugal, and a naval diaracter of high celebrity, who 
 had been himself concerned in the discovery of Madeira. Porto Santo, and 
 other islaiuls. Into the conlideuce and esteem of that oflicer. (.'olnmbus. by 
 his atlrndive manners, his knowledge and elexated parts, so far ingratiated 
 himself, as to obtain the hand of his daughter in marriage. This union 
 appears to ha\e pro\ed imt onlv a happy but a very important event in his 
 life. It angmented his inthuMice. Ity adding to the weight of his ow n character 
 that of a resiH'dable family connection, and opened lo him an unrestrained 
 access to all the charts and journals which his t'ather-in-law had prepared 
 iluring liis dill'eroiil vovages. together willi such verbal descrij)tions. direc- 
 
LIFE OP COLIJMBtS, 5 
 
 lions and information, an Huil experienced seaman was aide to impart. 
 TliKse resources, as they Jire«l his emulation, and add(;d to his stock ol' 
 cosmographical knowledge, served as a fresh and powerful incentive to urge 
 him forward in his favourite path <if niaritiiTie adventure. He, therefore, 
 visited without delay all the late discoveries in tlie Atlantic, including F'orto 
 Santo, Madeira, the Azores, and the several Portuguese settlements on the 
 continent of Africa, 
 
 By various considerations, whicli we cannot here detail, ('olumhus was 
 about this time led to suspect, that a passage to India hy the south of Africa, 
 if not absolutely impracticahle, must be at least so circuitous, difficult an<i 
 dangerous, as even, if discovered, to prove hut vi'vy slightly heneficial to 
 mankind. Declining, therefore, to take any part in schemes of adventure 
 towards that quarter, he began to dirc^ct his attention to the west. 
 
 The circular figure of lunar eclipses, conjoined with the well known 
 phenomena attendant on the discovery and approach of olijects at sea, had 
 convinced him of the spherical form of the earth. He hence felt persiiarled 
 of the pra/;ticaliility of circumnavigating it; and that a westerly voyage, 
 if pursued to the proper extent, would lead to India, or to a continent 
 situated between it and F^nrope. From the knowledge he possesserl of the 
 dimensions of the globe, and the. \iews lie entertained as to the relative 
 propf»rtion of land and water, he apj»ears to have considered the latter event 
 the most prohalile. He could neitiier l)elieve — an o])inion which was not 
 at the time very strenuously maintained — that India extended so far to the 
 east as to constitute even more than half of the earth: nor that, admitting 
 the correctness of the limits which wvrc usually assigned to it, the immense 
 space that must then intervene between its eastern Ijortler anrl the western 
 coast of Europe and Africa was occupied by nothing but an exjjanse of 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
6 LIFE OP COLUMBUS. 
 
 waliM's. For the due adjiistmenl of the halauce of the globe, as Avell as in 
 coiirovrnily to tlic idea lie eutertaiiicd of Hit' wisdom and heiiciiceiicc of the 
 Deity ill llu' arrain:;ement of iiis works, he felt persuaded of the existence of 
 a fourth <'oii(iiieiit washed by the wafers of (he Atlantic ocean. 
 
 Itiii. ill favour of this opiiruui. he had possessed himself of reasons other 
 than (hose of a cosiuoi:;ia|>hical nature. A covered canoe singularly cou- 
 strucled. canes of an iimisual si/.c. and pieces of wood artificially carved had 
 been found at sea, far (o westward of the coast of Africa. Add to this, that 
 two dead liodies, dilVeiiiii;; e.vceediugly in feadires and coiuplexioii fi(uu llie 
 natives of Kiiroiie and Africa, Iiad lieen driven asiiore on one of (lie Azores 
 by Hie westerly wind, and (liat after long (ontinued storms from the same 
 quarter, large uprooted trees liad been fre(|iieii(ly drifted to tlie same islands. 
 From lliese and other (orrolioratiiig circumstances, he not only inferred the 
 existence of a western continent, but became confirmed in tlie belief that its 
 situation was not very remote from Africa. To strengllieu this confirmation, 
 Paul Foscannelli, a Florentine physician uncommonly erudite, and deeply 
 versed in the science of cosmograpliy. on hearing his suggestions, concurred 
 with him in opinion, and urged liiiii witli great earnestness and many argu- 
 ments to engage immediately in a voyage of discovery. l\y such causes were 
 his views enlightened, his lio[)es encouraged, and his mind juepared for the 
 great undertaking. 
 
 Having settled w ithin himself the course and plan of his projected voyage, 
 nothing was wanting but the means of its accomplishment. These, however, 
 were too extensive and costly to be deri\ ed from the resources of a private 
 individual. Tlie wealth of a sovereign i oiild alone supply them. Conscious 
 of this, and actuated liy an earnest wish (hat to his native country might 
 belong the honour antl advantage of opening a short route to India, or 
 
LIFE OP COLUMnUS. 
 
 discovering a new continent, Coiumliuw made his first ajjplicalion to the states 
 of Genoa. His proposals here being promptly rejected, he next tendered his 
 services to .Inhii IT, king of Portugal. On this occasion he experienced 
 something worse than mere disa|)[)ointment; for. besides refusing to become 
 the patron of his enterprize and tlie jjartner of his glory, that monarch entered 
 into a treacherous conspiracy to wrest from him whatever of wealth or repu- 
 tation might be derive«l from the adventure. Three intriguing Portuguese 
 cosmographers were dejiuted by John to pass judgment on his pntject. No 
 sooner had he frankly disclosed it to them, than, struck with its feasibility, 
 they advised their sovereign, who instead of disgracing them for their pei-fidy 
 ado|)ted their counsel, to despatch a vessel for the purpose of efiecting the 
 l)roposed discovery. This vessel was directed to pursue the course which 
 the words of Columl)us appeared to indicate. But, from the incompetency 
 of the officer appointed to command her, the attempt, unwarrantable in its 
 principle and dishonest in its object, proved abortive in its result, and pro- 
 duced, of necessity, an unfavourable impression as t(j the practicability of 
 the scheme. 
 
 In deep resentment at such meanness and profligacy, Columbus retired 
 abruptly from the court of Portugal, and repaired to that of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella of Spain. That no eff*)rt toward the accomplishment of his object 
 might be wanting, he, at the same time, despatched his brother Bartholomew 
 to England, to solicit the patronage of Henry VII. But the English monarch 
 possessing a character phlegmatic and cautious, rather than enterprizing and 
 vigorous, declined immediately all concern in an adventure, which, however 
 magnificent and inviting in the view of others, appeared to him chimerical 
 and wild— the project of a visionary rather than of an elevated and well 
 balanced mind. This occurred about the close of the year 14M. 
 
8 LIFE OP COLUMBUS. 
 
 Diuiiii!; (he oi-^hl siucciMliri^ vciirs \vr I'liul Coliiinlms, at the court of 
 Spain, ciiji^aiiied in pressing liis sui( uidi n (Ic^ito o( paliciicc. pcrsevcMaiice. 
 iiiitl .iddirss, IK) loss calculalod (<» awaUni our adiniralioii, (liaii wcic llif 
 lih(>rali<_v. tlif dc|>lli, and tlii» fijiandiMir of his views, in (lu" midst of a dark 
 and sordid auji". The is^iioraiu e. (he evil passions and, above all, the interests 
 of Ihose around him, threw across his \\:\\ a threefohl harrier. In a court 
 wiiich was far from sujierahoundiii^ in weallli, (he expense alone of his 
 pro|)osed imderljikin^; nien.Kcd him for ^vears A\i(h a final e\( liisioii from 
 till' pa(roiia^e of ro\ally. \U\l (he inlle\ihili(\ of his resoliidon. and (he 
 ardour of his solicilatitui, lrinmi»hed in (he end over (liilicuKies and «»pposition. 
 lie a('cordini;lv. in the hei^innini; of .Vn;;iisi (-H(:J. had the satisfaction to tuid 
 himself in\ested uilh the title of admiral, and in command of three vessels 
 sele( ted itv himself :ind ti((eil oii( under his own direction for his intended 
 adventure. ()u tlie third of (he same month he set sail from the small port 
 of Palos in Andalusia, carr^vin;:; ahuiii; w itii him (he pravers of Spain, and 
 bearina; interwoven with his own fortunes a lari;-er ptntiou of the future des- 
 tinies of the world than had ever before been at the disposal of an individual. 
 
 The tract of otean whit h this wonderful man was bound to explore is 
 ti'aversed now . even l>v ordinary navij;ators, with perfect facility and very 
 little risk. Hut widely different were the < ircumstances of the passage which 
 awaited Columbus. His voyage lasted thirty-three days, a longer term than 
 the sight of laud had ixer been pre\ iously denied to a nu)rtal. During this 
 period the diiViculties and dangers with w hit h he had to (ontend were not 
 only numerous but unspeakably appalling. He had no chart for his direction, 
 no lights from |)receding adventurers, nor any experience of the w inds and 
 currents which he hail daily to encounter, (iod and his own genius, the 
 resources of which had never failed him. co)istituted his only guide and 
 
LIFE OP COLUMBUS, 9 
 
 reliance. Dispirited by tlie Iciii^lli and seeniing liopclessnefts of the voyai;e, 
 liis companions l)ei;an to i^row noisy jumI imiUnous. 'riicsc lie for a lime 
 encouraged and appeased Ity indicjilions and prognostics wliif li lie liappily 
 drew from the casual appearance of land birds, and large masses of floating 
 sea-weed. It was now that for the first time the n)agnetic needle was seen 
 to swerve from its polar direclion. This event, which discjiiieted not a little 
 even Cohimlius himself, was regarded hy his followers as a certain manifes- 
 tation of the anger of Heaven. Nature, herself, they said, was frowning on 
 their temerity. The unanimous call of the seamen was to return. JJy a 
 quickness and sagacity, however, |)ef:uliarly his own, that great commander, 
 in the midst of his embarrassments, aflected to have discovered the cause of 
 this appearance, whi( h he gravely disclosed somewhat to the satisfaction Jtnd 
 relief of his terrified mariners, allhougli very liltle to the scdace of his ov\ii 
 feelings, aiul not at all to the satisfaction of his niiiid. IJut expedients of this 
 sort, to which he was daily compelled to have recourse, began at length to 
 lose their effect. To such a height did the spirit of mutiny ultimately arise, 
 that the life of the admiral was in imminent danger. A conspiracy was 
 formed to throw him overlionrd, ;ui<l. reliiiiiing home, report that he had died 
 or been lost at sea. To escape I lie |){'rpetration of so flesperate an act, he 
 was obliged to make terms with those whom he had commanded, covenanting, 
 that in case they would proceed on the voyag(i for a specified time, an<l no 
 land be discovered, he would abandon the enterprise, and reconduct them to 
 a port in Spain. In this dark and disheartening extremity of his fortune, 
 when both his authority and address had ceased to avail him. and iiis last 
 hope was Fiearly extinguished, the appearance of one of the Hahama islands 
 dissipated his troubles and rewarded his toils. Thus occuiTed one of the 
 rarest of events, the accomplishment of a great discovery^ not im the result of 
 VOL. u c 
 
10 LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 accident, but the exjiectcd fruit of a series of measures previously concerted 
 aud perseveringly pursued. The only parallel which we now recollect, is 
 the discovery of the identity of electricity and lightning, by our illustrious 
 countryman, the late Dr. Franklin. 
 
 In that spirit of enlightened piety which constituted the fairest trait in 
 his cliaracter. Columbus had no sooner slept on shore at the head of his 
 follo\\evs, than, falling prostrate, he kissed the ground in grateful ackuo\\ - 
 ledgnieut of the protection of Heaven amidst his late perils, and its guidance 
 of him to so fortunate an issue of his voyage. He ordered, moreover, a 
 general thanksgiving, that each one might make, in Ids own person, a publif 
 expression of his gratitude to the Most High, for the mercies aud kindness 
 he had recently experienced. 
 
 Setting sail from the island where he first landed, which, in commemo- 
 ration of the asylum it afl'orded him, he had named St Salvador, lie proceeded 
 on his voyage of discovery in a southerly direction till his arrival at Hispa- 
 niola. AMth that place he was, for sundry reasiuis, much delighted, especially 
 on account of the evidences it exhibited of its being a country abounding in 
 the precious metals. On the present, as on every subsequent occasion, he 
 treated the natives Avith such justice and kindness, as to be regarded by them 
 with sentiments of esteem and gratitude, veneration and love. 
 
 Returning to Spain with a quantity of gold, \\ hich miglit serve as a proof 
 that his voyage had been successful, he entered the port of Palos on the L^th 
 of March, 1493, seven montlis and eleven days from the time he had left it. 
 On this occasion the people at large testilied, by demonstrations that were 
 wild and extravasranf, tlieir irratitude aud jov on account of the safe return 
 of their countrymen. Columbus repaired immediately to court, where he was 
 received with the utmost respect aud honour. His stipulated privileges Avere 
 
LIFE OF COLUMBUS. 11 
 
 all confirmed to liiiu, his family was ennobled, and a fresli armament of 
 seventeen ships and fifteen hundred followers were placed at his disposal 
 for aiiotiier adventure. With this command he sailed from Cadiz on his 
 second voyage, on the 25th of September, 1493. 
 
 Keturniiig to His|)anioia, he had the misfortune to find that a small 
 party of men which he had left there had been cut oil' by the natives. 
 Although he wisely forebore to punish this aggression, he determined on 
 the adoption of proper measures to prevent a repetition of it. Pursuant to 
 this he erected a small town and fortress, which he denominated Isabella, in 
 honour of liis royal patroness of Castile. 
 
 Having previously established his l)rother Diego as governor of his 
 settlement in Hispaniola, Columbus, in gratification of his ruling passion, 
 sailed in quest of further discoveries. The principal result of this voyage 
 was the addition of Jamaica to the territories of Spain. Returning thence to 
 the town of Isabella, whicli he now regarded as tlie capital of his possessions, 
 he had the good fortune to find there his brother Bartholomew, who had 
 brought along with him a large and opportune supply of provisions and men. 
 
 The natives of Hispaniola having become jealous of the Spaniards, from 
 believing them to be actuated by evil motives, resolved to drive tliem out of 
 the island. AVith a view to this, an army of one hundred thousand men was 
 brought into the field. This immense body Columl)us attacked and com- 
 pletely overthrew in an open plain, having under his command ))ut two 
 hundred foot, twenty horse, and twenty wolf dogs. This victory secured to 
 the Spaniards an undisputed possession of the island, the Indians making 
 no further attempts to dislodge them. 
 
 Moved by envy at his high fortunes, the enemies of Columbus at home 
 had become active in their endeavours to sully his reputation and destroy his 
 
12 MFK OF COLTJMnUS. 
 
 interest. The move certainly to (-oiit'ouiid IIumh. I»y nipcliiic; tlieir false accu- 
 sations in pt'isoii. Ill" sailed lor Kurope in Ml)(), leavini; his brollier liarlho- 
 htnicw in llic i;;»)V(Miini('nt of JJispaninla. On iiis arrival in S|»ain lie not only 
 SU('((n"(l((l ill iMitliiii:; his accusers to silence, but completely overwhelmed 
 them widi nuirtiluation and shame, hy jn-ocnrini;-, throni:;h his inllnence at 
 coiirl. « lia(e\or additional ton es and supplies he llionj:;hl proper to ask. 
 
 In llie year 111)7 he sailed on his third >oya;;e. in the course of which 
 he discoM'ird the island of Trinidad and the (oiitinent of South America, 
 and arrived at llispaniola in Hl)8. It was not lon^- ai'lerwards w hen both 
 lie and liis Itroljiois weir assailed in Spain by IVesli accusations. 
 
 On this occasion the monaii li whom he had so laithrnlly and ably served, 
 rorj|;etrnl alike of j^ratilnde and justice, dispatdied to the newly established 
 (■ohniy Francis de llovadilla. a corrupt judge, with instrnctions to encpiire 
 into the ( liar:;es. and. should they lie foiiiid true, to order Columbus luune, 
 and itMiiaiii himself as governor in his stead. 
 
 The interest of IVtvadilla being thus made lo co-operate with his hatred 
 of Columbus, the (oiidemnation of the accused was unceremouitms and 
 pnnnpt. The admiral was acccu'dingly apprehended by order of the new 
 governor, treated with marks of slndied indignity, and hurried in irons ou 
 board of a .shi|). to be transported to Spain. 
 
 The commander of the vessel was a man of a generous mind and a 
 feeling iu^arf. No sooner had he put to sea. w here the arm of Bovadilla ( oiild 
 no longer reac h liiiii. than, soflened Ity such a reverse in the fortnnes of his 
 prisoner, and loiuhed witlt veneraiiini for his virtues and years. In* oflered 
 with his ow n hand to release liiin iViMU his chains. Hiit Columbus refused; 
 declaring, (hat he would aicept his lilierty. of which he had been so un- 
 wortliily and wrongfully deprived, from uotliing but liis sovereign's especial 
 
LIFE or COLUMBUS. 13 
 
 command. " Tf," sai.l lie, « twelve years of liardsliip ami fafii^np^if conti- 
 nual dangers and frerjuent famine— if the ocean first opened, and many times 
 passed and re-passed, to add to tlie Spanish monarchy a new world ahoiirMJ- 
 ing in wealth — and if an infirm and premature old age, hronght on by those 
 services, desei-ve these chains as a reward, it is lit I should wear them to 
 Spain, and keep them hy me as a suitalilc memorial to the end of my life." 
 
 He contiuTied afterwards to r»rry these fetters with him wherever he went 
 
 they hung in his c hainher, juid he ordered them to he hM witli hJM hody in 
 the grave. No sooner had he airived in Spain, tiian, pursuant to a royal 
 order, he was released from ronfmement, the king and queen manifested in 
 their reception and treatment of him all their fttrmer kindness and confidence, 
 and Bovadilla was immediately discarded from favour. 
 
 In the year 1502, Columbus, reinstated in his honours and authority, 
 visited a fourth time the island «.f Ilisjianiola. On his arrival off" tJic port 
 of Santo Domingo, where the governor resided, he found a fleet of eighteen 
 ships, richly laden, ready to depart for the continent of Europe. Persuaded 
 from the character of the weather and the appearances of the heavens, of 
 which he had long been strictly observant, that a storm was approaching, he 
 asked pemission to enter the harbour with his own ship, and warned the 
 fleet not to venture immediately to sea. His request and advice were both 
 disregarded. The whole fleet sailed, and of the eighteen vessels of which 
 it consisted, fifteen were lost in the tempest that ensued. Bovadilla, who was 
 himself on board, went down with all the wealth he had accumulated; while 
 one of the three ships that escaped was freighted with the remnant of the 
 admiral's fortune. By the precautions he adopted and his skill in seamanship, 
 he himself, in his own vessel, rode out the gale. In the spirit of superstition 
 which characterized the times, this memorable issue of things was attributed 
 
 VOL. I. n 
 
14 LIFE OF COLUMntJS. 
 
 by some (o (he iiniupdiato iidcM-position of Providence in behalf of Cohimbus- 
 and Uy olht-is (o (lie emplnvmeiH of sorcerv by himself. 
 
 Ill his iu>\( vinui:;!' of aiheiidire (lie iidiuiial sailed ahiiii:; (lie roast of 
 Darieii. in (he hope of discoveriii;;- a s(i'ai( (lia( inii;h( open a new passage 
 to (he coiiiid'ies (if the Kas(. Disappoind-d in (his. he es(ahlished. under 
 the coiumand of his lirodier. a small colony in (he [iroviiue of \ erai:;tia, 
 nn*l (hen sailrd ("or Spain, with a view (o make arran<;enients for rendering 
 it |ierninnent. 
 
 Overtaken on liis voyage by a vitden( tempest, in wliich some of his 
 ships bad (he misfortune (o run foul of ea( h other. i( was not widiont great 
 difficulty tliat he reached in safety the island of Jamaica. Here, the felici- 
 toHs pregnancy and readiness of his genius suggested to him the means of 
 relieving himself and his folbnvers from the calamity of famine. 
 
 Irri(a(ed hy (he wrongs (hey bad sus(ained (Voiii llie injnsdce of others, 
 the natives refused to supply him with provisions. His sufferings on this 
 account had arisen to an ex(remi(y wiiich nature was unable much longer 
 to survive. A (o(al edipse of (he moon was at hand. His knowledge of 
 astronomy hail enabled him (o calciila(e (he hour of its commencement. Of 
 this he took advantage (o bend (o his purpose (he undisciplined natives. 
 
 Summoning to a convention (he diiefs and principal personages of (he 
 island, be informed (hem (lia( (lie (iod w hcuii he served, and w ho liad ciea(ed 
 all things in heaven and in earth. iiio\ ed (o anger by (heir unjust refusal to 
 support his servants, meditated against (hem a speedy and most afflictive 
 judgmen(. of w hicli they would shortly ha\ e tokens from above — for. (lia( at 
 a pardcnlar hour of a niglK whi( h he designated, (he moon would assume 
 the appearance of blood, an emblem of the signal dcstructioa Avhich aw aited 
 them. 
 
LIFE OP COLUMBUS. 15 
 
 His prediction ])cing verified iii every particular, tlie savages, over- 
 •\vhelmed witli terror, tiirongpd around him vvitli an abundance of provisions; 
 and, falling prostrate at liis feet, ini|)lored him to avert the evils which 
 menaced them. IJeing extricated, at length, from his difficulties hy means 
 of a fleet sent to his relief from the island of Hispaniola, he sailed from 
 Jamaica, and, in the month of December 1504, anchored in the port of St 
 Lucar in Spain. 
 
 But that country, for which he had achieved and sufTercd so much, alTord- 
 ed him no longer an asylum from fraud, or a comfortable home. Isabella his 
 patroness, to whom alone he looked for redress, was dead, and willi her 
 were entombed his expectations and his ho|)es. It was in vain that he ap- 
 pealed to the liing for justice. That nari'ow minded and ungrateful monarch, 
 after having made him the sport of caprice and violated promises, insulted 
 him l)y proposing a commutation of his claims fm- a very liniKed pension. 
 
 Disgusted by such meanness, penetrated with abhorrence of such baseness 
 and perfidy, and exhausted by the fatigues and ciilamities he had endured. 
 Columbus, having indignantly withdrawn himself from ((miH, e.\])ired at 
 Valladolid, on the 2()th of May i'lOCy, in the fifty-nintli year ol" his age. 
 The dignified composure and serenity of mind, which threw over his last 
 moments an unfading lustre, formed a suilable termination to a life of great- 
 ness. Ferdinand, covered with shame and stung l)y remorse for his treachery 
 and injustice to this first and brightest ornament of his em[)ire, bestowed on 
 him distinguished funeral honours, and confirmed to his descendants their 
 hereditary rights. 
 
 This illustrious man is buried in the cathedral of Seville, wliere a 
 monument is erected to his memory, on which is inscribed the following 
 epitaph, "Here lies Columbus, who gave to Castile and Leon a new world,'' 
 
1(5 MFE OF COIATMBUS. 
 
 tlie most exalted eulogy, yet perfectly just, that ever mortal has merited or 
 received. 
 
 Tlie character of Coluinhns presents an opitouie therein are united, in 
 the lia])piest proportion and most correct adjustment, all the liigh and esseii- 
 tial components u[' luuuan greatness. It is scarcely possil>le to contemplate 
 it witlutnt \eiieratiou and awe. To a lofty, comprehensive and well culti- 
 vated mind, lie nddod a degree of patience and ])erseverance. an intrepidity 
 of spirit, an ardour of feeling, and a vigour of action, eipuil to the accom- 
 plishment of the weightiest undertakings. His schemes, like his intellect, 
 were modelled on a scale of gigantic grandeur. He was such a man as 
 nature forms hut once in centuries. In any age he would have stood con- 
 spicuous, and been instrumentiil in giving a turn to lunnan aflairs — in his 
 o\\ u, he was without a rival. AVith a capacity to project and compass the 
 most novel and vast designs, he possessed also the rare and no less useful 
 talent of devising the readiest nu'aus of execution, and superintending the 
 minutest practical details. His power of concealing his passions and govern- 
 ing himself gave him a peculiar litness for the government of others ; while 
 his quickness in perceiving the ralalions of things, the aptness of his genius, 
 and his perfect self-possession, enabled him to turn to his account even 
 sinister occurrences. No man. perhaps, ever possessed in a higher degree 
 the important art of rendering others subservient to his purposes, or of 
 adapting his conduct to the nature of emergencies — commanding or con- 
 ceding, temporizing or acting with vigour, as circumstances required. It was 
 by moans of this art that he seemed to render every thing around him tribu- 
 tary to Ids designs, ami to become himself a contronling principle, which 
 man, the elements, and even casualties obeyed. It may be added, as a 
 fact not altogether devoid of interest, that the Jiardihood of Ids person in 
 
LIFE OF COLT7MBLS. 17 
 
 the indiirancc of fati2;uc and exposure, hardship and famine gave tlie finishing 
 touch to his fitness for adventure. 
 
 Cohiinhus was of a lofty statute, a long visage, and a majestic aspect: 
 his nose was aquiline, his eyes grey, and his cctmplexion clear and some- 
 what ruddy. He was a man of wit and pleasantry, in his hahits sociahle, 
 and in conversation elegant and refined. The comeliness of his mien, added 
 to his condescension, amihility and discretion conciliated the affections of 
 those who were around him, while, by an air of grandeur and authority, 
 he never failed to command resjicct. In his diet he was plain, in his drink 
 temperate, and in his dress rich but not ostentatious. His whole appearance 
 was so expressive of his character, that an entire stranger, on first seeing 
 him, could never regard him but as a distinguished personage. 
 
 His moral qualities were also of the highest and most estimable order. 
 Among these his piety and gratitude to heaven for favours received were 
 always conspicuous. His magnanimity and benevolence, his disinterested- 
 ness and love of justice, were constantly extended to those within his sphere; 
 his loyal attachment and unshaken fidelity as a subject, formed a strikin"- 
 contrast with the ingratitude and neglect which it was his fortune to expe- 
 rience from the monarch whom he served ; while his kind and generous 
 treatment of tlie conquered savages deservedly procured for him the title of 
 Father to that injured people. 
 
 Although this article might I)e eulogy in relation to others, it is strict 
 biography as it respects Columbus. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
IM U\ »t«»lM> »^ 
 
 .utsKrii o» ». vi'I.aim: 
 
 AMKKicv^'K^rrrnir^ 
 
LIFE OF VESTlTirS. 
 
 Tt cannot ho. (lonif.l that Amfiiciis V^'spntiiin (more corifctly Amfirigo 
 Ves[)iiw;i) was a man of talcntH and ar»|uimmcnts, inr1ii«try anrl cntirprizc. 
 For l)ol(lnesH of design and extent of a/;liievement, he holds, |)erli;.|.s, the 
 second pla/:e among the a.lv.t.tmen of tlie llfteenth century who .lirected 
 their attention U> discoveries in the west. N(»twithstanding this, lie, was many 
 degrees inferior to him who so deservedly (KXiipics the first: for, in summing 
 up his chara^Her, we are cx)mpelled to acknowledge, that he was formed hy 
 accident, and distinguished hy a concurrence of fortunate circumstances, 
 rather Uian really great hy nature. It were even well for the fairness and 
 honesty of his reputation, hatl it heen afxident alone tliat gave him renown. 
 But there h reason to apprehend that something more than af:f;ident and less 
 than genius was operative on the occasion ; and that he ohtained hy manage- 
 ment, not U> call it stratagem, that reward to which neither his merit nor his 
 services rightfully entitled him. An inordinate desire of fame appears to 
 have constituted his ruling jiassion : and for the gratification of this he was 
 ready to encounter difficulty and U.il, to dare iioldly, and t^i sunVr with 
 fortitude. Nor, provided he couhl compass his end, was he very delicately 
 scmpulons as to the means he employed. Hence arose, in his Un> eager (>ur- 
 Ruit of his favourite ohjeci, that perversion of dates and those other violations 
 
^^ LIFE or VESPUTIUS. 
 
 of correct narrative Avitli wliicli he is charged, as Avell as his more open 
 adoption or several measures which are deemed inconsistent with justice 
 and honour. Altliou-li Iiis success in giving its name to the new world has 
 eilectually secured immortality to his own, it has served, at the same time, 
 to extend and perpetuate the knowledge of his premeditated usurpation of 
 the rights of another. For, to the illustrious discoverer who' pla.n.ed and 
 executed the first adventure across the Atlantic, it was unquestionahlj due, 
 that the country discovered should receive his name. This the subject of the 
 present article had (he address to prevent, and, instead of Colunihia, 
 America became the title of the western continent— an event that has never 
 ceased to be lamented by the generous, while the just have condemned the 
 motives in which it originated, as well as the means whereby it was accom- 
 plished. But more of this in the sequel. 
 
 Amekicus Vesputius, a Florentine by birth, was the descendant of an 
 ancient and respectal)le family. He was born in the year 14iM, four years 
 after the birth of Columbus. Altliougli intended by his father for the mer- 
 cantile profession, the education he received was solid and liberal. He was, 
 in an especial manner, eminently versed in the sciences and arts subservient 
 to navigation. In the character of a man of I)usiness. and carrvin- alon"- 
 with liim habits of observation, he visited Si)ain and several other countries, 
 adding thereby to his m ealth. his acquaintance with cosmography, and his 
 knowledge of mankind. It was but a short time previously that Columbus, 
 covered wi(h glory, had returned from his first voyage of discovery. 
 
 By royal permission, the merchants of Seville Avere equipping, under the 
 command of Ojeda, a fleet of four ships on an enterprize to the west. Ambi- 
 tious of visiting the new world, and desirous also, perhaps, of bettering his 
 fortune, Vesputius engaged in this adventure in his professioinil capacity. 
 
LIFE OF VESPUTIUS. 21 
 
 and, according to his own account, sailed from Cadiz on the 30th of May 
 1497- On the 15th of Octol)cr 1498, he returned to tiie same port, having, 
 in the interim, discovered tlie coast of Paria, and penetrated as far as the 
 Gulf of Mexico. If this statement be correct, he saw the continent l)efore 
 Columbus, yfho did n(»t discover it till 1498. But, as will shortly appear, 
 there exist strong grounds of belief that the date of Ojeda's first voyage was 
 1499. 
 
 During this adventure so rapidly did Vesinitius improve in the science 
 of navigation and the art of practical seamanship, as to acquire the reputa- 
 tion of an able captain. If his own narrative be entitled to credit, he com- 
 menced his second voyage, under the auspices of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 in which he commanded six ships, on the 11th of May 1499. In the prose- 
 cution of it he proceeded first to the Antilles, thence to the coast of Guiana 
 and Venezuela, and did not return to Cadiz until the month of November 
 1500. Wounded in his feelings by what he considered ingratitude in the 
 Spanish monarch for the services he had rendered liim, he now abandoned 
 his employ and returned to Seville, where he lived for a time secluded fi-om 
 society. 
 
 Emannal of Portugal, being jealous of the success and gloiy of Spain, 
 was ambitious to l)ecome her rival in the career of adventure. He accord- 
 ingly, on receiving information of the neglect and injustice which Vesputius 
 had experienced, and his dissatisfaction on account of them, invited him to 
 his court, and gave him the command of three ships for a third voyage to 
 the new world. Flattered by such a mark of c<»nfiden(e and distinction, the 
 adventurer prepared with alacrity for the enterprize. Sailing from LisI)on 
 on the 10th of May 1501, he ran down the coast of Africa as far as Angola, 
 and, passing thence to Brazil in South America, pursued Ids discoveries in 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
22 Lirn of VKsn'rirs. 
 
 a soiitliorly dirociion ((t tlio coast of Pa(a;;'()nia. Having penetrated thns far, 
 lie retnrned Uy the way of Sierra liconc and the coast of Gniuea, and arrived 
 at liislKMi on (lie 7''' of Se|)teml)er iM2. 
 
 Kniinenliy ;:;ra(iru'd U\ (he sin cess of liis enterprize, king Eniannal now 
 et|iii|>i>ed for him six ships, wi(h w hicli, on the lOth of May l;»03, he sailed 
 on liis fonrdi ami las( voyage. 'I'he discovery of a wes(ern passage to the 
 JNlolncca isl.imis was (he par(i(nlar oI»jec( of this adventnre. Taking his 
 departure IVcnn (he ( ()as( of Africa, he pnrsiu'd. as fctrmerly, a westerly 
 conrse. and en(ered (he itay of All Saints in Hrazil. Having provisions on 
 board for only (weii(y monOis, and l)eiiig detained il\e months on tlie coast 
 of llra/.il hy foul weadier and contrary winds, i( hecame necessary for him, 
 \vi(hon( any fnr(her prosecntion of his discoveries, to retnrn to Portngal. 
 He accordingly set sail, and anchored in (lie roads of Lisbon on (he 14(h 
 of .Inne (.">t)k Notwithstanding his faihire in relation to (lie contemplated 
 object of his voyage, he experienced a UImiI and favonrable reception, on 
 acconnt of (lie tpiantides of Hra/.il \\ood and odier articles of great valne 
 with whi( h he was freighted. 
 
 From the (ermination of this voyage (o (lie close of his life we know bnt 
 lilde of the hisiory of Vespniins. and e\eii that is widuuit interest. About 
 die year l.''l)7 he |)nblisheil an account of his four voyages: in the same 
 year he again retired (o Seville, and recei\ed from Ferdinand of Spain the 
 a[>poii>(ment of Helineator of sea-cliar(s. under (he title of chief pilot of the 
 kingilom. He died in the island of Tercera in l."'l."i, in the sixty-third year 
 of his age. 
 
 In all his voyages of discovery A'ospntius bad, no doubt, in view tbe 
 melioration of his fortune by an actpiisition of wealth : but his leading ob- 
 ject appears to jiave been the gratilication of his vanity by imposing his 
 
LIFE OP VESPUTIUS. 23 
 
 name on tlic new world, and cstaldisliin;^- liis claim to its first discovery. 
 The former r»f tliese ends he had the industry and art to accomplish, hy 
 piihlisliin^ the first chart of the conlltient, and asserting in his narrative that 
 he saw it as early as the year 1497- 
 
 His report respeclins; the date of his first voyage is not helieved. His 
 own word, which he had an interest in falsifyinj^-, is the only evidence that 
 was ever adduced in favour of its truth ; whereas the testimony against it 
 is multifarious and weighty. Ves()utius, as alrea<ly stated, asserts that his 
 first voyage, in which he discovered Ihc wislci n < niitirir'nt, was performed 
 in 1497 : hut all the Spanish historians declare, that it was not undertaken 
 till the year 1499, while CJolumhus is universally acknowledged to have 
 seen the continent in 1498. Ojeda himself, the commander of the lirst 
 voyage in which Vesputius was engaged, appears to have deposed on oath, 
 in the course of a judicial inquiry, that he did not sail till 1499. ilerrara, 
 whose reputation for veracity is held unimpeachahle, and who is under- 
 stood to have com[)iled his general history of America from the most au- 
 thentic records, prefers against Vesputius accusations that are still more 
 serious and weighty. He positively asserts, that instead of four, that 
 adventurer made but tvco voyages to the new world — hoth of them with 
 Ojeda; the first in 1499, and the second in 1501; and that his narrative of 
 his other voyages is a fiction. 
 
 There exists still furlher ground for denying to Vesputius the honour of 
 having discovered the western continent. He is not considered as the author 
 of that achievement by either Martyr or Uenzoni, two Italian writers, the 
 foi-mer his own coteraporary, ;itid Itoth of them <lispose«l to do him perfect 
 justice. Yet Martyr recor«ls in his e|)istles every remarkable "event of the 
 time. Nor is this all. Fonesca, during whose administration, and from 
 
24. i.irn op vriSvuTirs. 
 
 uiidtM- Avliitso hand, Ojctln n>(ci\rtl (lie ruriuc for liis advpiiliivc to the WCst, 
 viis not in (lie •• diroction ol" Indinn iilViiirs" al (lie |H>n«id \vlii<l» Vcspniius 
 assii^ns lor (lit> coninuMictMntMit of liis liisl vo_vai;o. 'Plial olViccr of (lio crowii 
 liiul liccn n'nn)\(Ml from llio cmmi isc ol" his l(n'(>i;;n fnnc lions, and it Mas not 
 till soiuc (inic arici\\ aids dial he was icinstalt'd. A'ospniins. n\oirover. Iiad 
 Ihc aildrcss in>l lo piddisli liis iiarralivo, ulitMfin ho asst>rls his ( laini to (ho 
 discovorv of (ho now «'oii(inon(, (ill al)on( a voai' aflor (ho doa(h of Colmnlnis. 
 Ilv (his s(ra(am-iii Cor as sin h i( iniis( ho oonsiihMod ho osta|>od (lio loCn- 
 (a(ion\\hi(h dial illustrious navij:;aior >\oiild havo inimodia(ol,v propaiod and 
 j:;i\on (o (lio \voild. Ilo coiilil iiol. li(n\o\or. oscapo (ho ro|»rol)ation which 
 juslico awards to iho niomorv t)!' him who snnoittiliouslv aiTopitos to liim- 
 soir tho lair tamo tha( liohni^s (o anodior. 
 
 Hut o\on adnii((iMj;' Vospulins t«) havo hooii (lio Cordmalo Knropoan who 
 first i^ainod sii:;h( ol" tho now <'on(iiion(, i( niav. notw i(lis(andini;, lio (on- 
 lonilod. on ^idiiiids w hich aio porloodv solid and (onahlo, (lia( (hat ovont 
 did iio( ontitio him to Itosiow on ii his namo. in wliaiovor lio acliiovod, in 
 his oaioor of n\aiiliino ontorpii/.o, ho was. strictly si)oakini;-. a dopondoiit 
 on ("olumltiis. That s;ioa( advondiror first opoiuMl a passas:;e across the 
 .Vilaiiii( , and iiistrnclod others to iVillow his conrso. All discovories, llioro- 
 I'oro, dial wore snl)so(|iioiitl_v niado |)iirsnant to sir h instnu lion. rt>(loimdod 
 primarily lo his hononr. Had iiol llioir traciv hoon Iracod liy his skill and 
 illmuiiiatod li_v his i^oniiis, and their mintls omlioldonod h\ hix nnoxamiilod 
 daring. noiiliiM- > ospiitiiis nor the Cahhots Avonld o\or. perhaps, have \en- 
 tnrod a hundred lea:;iies from the coast of Kiiropo. On the score of on- 
 (orpri/o and a(hoiilme to die west, hew a- llio life and moving xiiirit of 
 Iho ap'. Diliers ac ted hiif In his example, and slumo in dieir spheres 
 only with the lii;iu that was luirrowed from him. N>"hatever part they 
 
LIFE or VB8IMJTHJH. 
 
 pcrforincd was hiil, Hiil»»»r(liii!i(r in Ihc i:;ic!i(, (lifima, wliidi lie dii.* led. 
 Tli.-y wciT, n)iiH('(|iH'M(l.y, UicmsclvcH iK.lliiiii:; more, iJiiui liis lUMlfilin-s iiimI 
 aids. ir (licy wcir, l\n-Unmi.r in (l.c (ii.isliin- of dclails, i( u,rs her ansr lie 
 Ii.hI Ix'cn .•iili-li(cncd and ^Tcal, in |»rc|)arin- lln- oiillinc. VVcir il alloualdc 
 lo l.oriow a. m»'(fi|)li(»r fnnn flic (n-^;ani/,a(i(»n (>niic licavms, i( nii^lil Im- a|.lly 
 eno.i.qli naJd, Uial, .■nlii:;lilni(d l).y his vvis.loni, invi-.nalrd l..y Lis .■ncipoH, 
 and aUrarlcd li.y (he inlicicnl -landiMi- ..C liis inlrllcci, ||,c,y vv.-n- U, liini as 
 so many sad-llilcs nwivin;:; around llicir rcndal oil). 
 
 In ronsidrralion of liis aclivily and .siurcssnil (•n(,ci-|,n/f. in cnlarj^inf? 
 llic. I.onnds oC ar dial disr (,vr-iy, had VcsiMKins ^iv.•n his nam.- (o a hay or a 
 riv(^r, a -.ilfor an island, (lir irvvard would no( have hcni a( all dispropor- 
 tinned (,o his mnil ; hnl l„ (Ic.lumhiis ahnir, (,li<-, aiiUior of lii.' adv.nhiir I.. 
 that qnarlcr, should have-, hclonj:;(',d tin; honour of h.'stovviii- Jiin iianic. on 
 the Continent of the V\^est. 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
c'-' 
 
 LIFE OF DR. BENJA^IIN RUSH. 
 
 Considered in relation to tUe entire compass of his character — as a 
 practitioner, a teacher, a philosopher, and a writer, Dr Rush must he ac- 
 knowledged to have been the most distinguished physician that America has 
 produced. In no quarter of the globe has it fallen to the lot of many indivi- 
 duals to occupy so extensive a sphere, and to comply with duties so nume- 
 rous and diversified, in the public and private, the literary and practical de- 
 partments of medicine. 
 
 To those who have neither learnt by experience the value of mompnts, 
 nor, l)y observation, what a long course of well regulated and indefatigable 
 industry can achieve, it might well seem that the amount of what he read, 
 wrote, and actively performed, would be severally the business of an entire ^ 
 lifetime. But to him who never wasted even the fractions of time, but faith- 
 fully employed them either in tlie acquisition or the api)lication of knowledge, , 
 what U\ others would have been impossible, became practicable and easy. 
 For to truth and justice the avowal is due, that it was his moral, much 
 more than his physical qualities, his habits of observation and attention , his 
 higb ambition and persevering industry, rather than any superiority in tlie 
 native force and activity of his intellect, that gave to him his ascendency over 
 most of his cotemporaries. Such is the high and honourable reward which, 
 
28 
 
 LIFE or 1)11. nr.N.IAMlN RUSH. 
 
 ^>. ill (ho (lispciis.-Uiou of Immiiii .•ilVaiis. .•iw.iils (lie coiisciiMilious omployincul 
 ^%l(iiiu'. Dill (li(> \A(nl(l prodiicr more mon equal in assidnily and unwoaricd 
 
 rcscardi. il would lt(> adoniod l»_v iikut of o(|iial dislinclioii : so (nii' is it 
 
 a lad iinpoHaiil lo all mon. Itiil. w liidi on-ht, in n nunc i's|.o(ial manner, 
 
 (o Ik> zoalonsly incnlralod mi llu> minds of yonUi— tlial indiishy is no( only 
 
 , ^ (nu> of lln- parents of Unowled-c. Iinl an essential component of hnmau 
 
 ^ i^reatness. Witbont (liis most important of (]uali(ies. an intelleet of the 
 
 hi^^hest (n(l(>r hnl ee-^emhles a tract of fertile soil defedively enltivated, 
 
 f. - shooliiiii;; forth a few hixnriant plants, hnl overnin willi M(>eds. and not 
 
 exempt from poisinnins pnxlnclions ; w hile with it. miinls mndi less richly 
 
 endowed liy natnre, are converted into gardens ahonndinj; in all that is 
 
 ^ orna menial and nsefnl. K> en Newton himself is known to have declared, 
 
 I (hat his power of allenlftm and painfnl research, was the only (pialily in 
 
 w hi( h ht> was sii|)erior to other men. 
 
 In the way of preliminary il may lie further observed, (hat. ow ina; to his 
 
 .earnesdiess and elotpience as a writer and a (tat her. his \aried adainments 
 
 1 ^s a man (if science, and his extensive experience and weight of character in 
 
 / i practical jioint of view. Dr. linsh acipiired oxer medit ine in (he United 
 
 4, '1 
 
 w >t4»tes a miK II greater inl!u«nce and conlroiil than aiiv olher physician has 
 
 cvef i)ossessed. On the im-'dical mind of his coiinlry he has lefi an impress 
 
 . of liis intellect \> lii( li will not lie olililcialed. perhaps, for (he term of half 
 
 a century: certainly not dnrin;:; (he lifetime of many of those who were 
 
 edi|'aled under Ihe lii;hl and sway of his lectures. 
 
 So exalleil was the oiiinion entertained of his skill, (hat (he sphere of his 
 
 iractii e. in-lead of heiui; contined lo the city of Philadelphia, may he said to 
 
 Tive exlended oxer the whole of the I'nioii: for. from the remotest extremes 
 
 of il dill patients resort to liim to receive advice^ and iVoui every part of it 
 
 1 
 
MFE OF nn. BENJAMIN HUSH. 29 
 
 29 J^ 
 
 Avas he consulted by loiter for the benefit of those who were unable to travfT 
 Even many of the West India Islands, l»y solirilin!; his o|)inion as to the 
 treatment of diseases tliat liad balllcd all attempts to remove them, l)ore 
 testimony to the extent of his ])ractical reputation. IJul, descending from 
 these general remarks, it is time we should enter on a more detailed account ^ 
 of his life. 
 
 Benjamin Rush was a native of Pennsylvania. He was born on the 24tk 
 of December i^W, on a small estate ))elonging to his father, situated in Ber- 
 berry township, and distant about twelve miles from the city of Philadelphia. 
 His family, who were originally from Kngland, had so long resided in tlii>i / 
 country, that he was the thiid in descent from the period of their ('migration, "y 
 He was, therefore, no less in blood than in sentiment, a real American. The 
 first of his ancestors that crossed the Atlantic was Captain Jolin Rush, who, 
 in the army of Oliver Cromwell, had commanded a troop of horse with high ,^. 
 reputation, and had been not a little distinguished by the favours of the Pro- ' 
 tcctor. lie was afterwards induced by his love of liberty to follow the for- ■^ 
 tunes of the illustrious Penn. His descendants in Pennsylvania, who,^i fji- 
 mily gradation, had preceded the su])ject of this notice, altlioiigh industrious 
 and upright, intelligent and respectable, <lo not appear to have been particu- 
 larly remarkable for their talents or attainments. As far as is now known, 
 social kindness, haiiits of piety, and moral woHli — all ingredients of sterling • 
 value — constituted the principal amount of (licir repiilalion. 
 
 Young Benjamin, having lost his father before he had completed his sixtli 
 year, was left to the care of his mother, who, though discreet and sensil>le, was -jf 
 in straitened circumstances. By removing, however, to Pliil;id('l|diia, and en- '•• 
 tering into business, she was enabled, through indusli-y and strict economy, 
 to bestow on him and his younger brother a liberal education. Being well ' 
 
30 LIFE or UU. BENJAMIN UUSir. 
 
 » 
 
 versed for liis age in the elements of English learning, lienjamin was seni, 
 when in his ninth year, to the grammar school of Nottingliam, in the State of 
 Maryland, tanght at the time hy his maternal nncle, the Rev. Dr. Finley, who 
 was afterwards president of the college in Princeton. Here the temptations 
 to vice and dissipation were few, and the incentives to morality and virtue 
 nnmerous. The sitnation was seclnded, the snrronnding inhabitants orderly 
 and devont, and. in addition (o his love of letters and his pecnliar art of 
 iufusing into liis pupils the same passion, the teacher was one of the most 
 pious of men. Under such circumstances, a youth of active parts and good 
 dispositions could scarcely fail to make a rapid progress as well in his moral 
 as his classical education. Such was the progress made hy young Rush, 
 n ho received, while here, from various sources, impressions that were 
 important to him during the remainder of his life — a love of learning, stu- 
 dious hahits. an attachment to order, and a veneration for the principles of 
 the christian religion. 
 
 At the age of fourteen he was removed to Princeton college, then under 
 (lie direction of the Rev. Dr. Davies, one of the most elocpieut divines of 
 the age, and signali/.ed no less by his piety than his elocution. Here, 
 allhough it does not appear that he particularly distinguished himself, he is 
 known to have maintained a very respectable standing, especially when it 
 is recollected that he was the youngest member of his class. In the month 
 of Sc[)teml)cr t7()(). when he had not yet completed his sixteenth year, he 
 obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts. 
 
 Possessed of a lively imagination, a readiness in debate, and a talent 
 for public speaking, and actuated by the impulse of a laudable ambition, 
 his natural inclination Avould have led him to (he bar. lint from this course 
 he was dissuaded by the Rev. Dr. Finley, who proved successful in bis 
 
LIFE OF DR. IIENJAMIN RUSH. 31 
 
 attempt to inspire him with a loiidness for the prolVssiou of nicdiciiie. He, 
 accordingly, h)st no time in commencing liis studies under Dr. .John Red- 
 man, then an eminent practitioner in the city of Piiiladelphia. Ho [tunctual 
 were now his hahits and so uninterrupted iiis assiduity, tiiat, during a pu- 
 pilage of six years, he is said to have heen absent from the calls and busi- 
 ness of liis preceptor but two days. In the course of this period he eagerly 
 availed himself of every source of knowledge to which he could have access. 
 With the writings of Hippocrates and Sydeidiam, in particular, he rendered 
 himself familiar; he studied attentively the works of Boerliaave, and other 
 systematic writers, and was one of ten pupils who attended a course of lec- 
 tures on anatomy, l)y the late Dr. Shippen, the first that was ever delivered 
 in the British colonies. It was now that he began to register in a common- 
 place book all such thoughts, facts, and passing occurrences, as he considered 
 most worthy to be remembered — a practice whicb, greatly to the Ijenefit of 
 medicine, lie steadily pursued during the remainder of his life. To that 
 journal, which he thus hap[uly commenced when in his eighteenth year, he 
 had recourse afterwards, when at the age of fifty, for the only record then 
 extant of the malignant fever which had prevailed in Philadelphia in the year 
 1762 — an interesting fact, pregnant with information and advice to physicians. 
 Having ac(pii^ed such elementary knowledge in medicine as the resources 
 of his native country at that time aflTorded, young Rush, for the completion of 
 his education, repaired, in the year I766, to the school of Edinl)urgh, then iu 
 the zenith of its utility and renown. After an assiduous attendance on the 
 lectures and hospitals of that place, he, in the year I768, obtained the degree 
 of Doctor of Medicine. Pursuant to the estal)lished usages of the institu- 
 tion, his thesis "De concoctione ciborum in ventriculo," was written and 
 defended iu the Latin tongue. The style of this dissertation is correct and 
 
32 MFE OF DR. BENJAMIN UDSH. 
 
 perspicuous, ivud the anani^oment mellutdical jnul clear; and he is believed 
 to have composed it witliout assistance, lint its literary (pialities constitute 
 its chief merit; Tor, as a medical perlbrmauce, it, is, at best, but an ingenious 
 defence of an ernn-. This, iiowever, was in a less (le-ijree the fault of the 
 writer, than of tlie defective stale of physiology at the time. 
 
 Having spent the succeeding winter in an atteniiance on the hospitals 
 and olhor sources of medical instruction in London, and made a visit to 
 Paris llie following summer, to derive information from the schools of that 
 metropolis, lie returned (o Pliiladelphia in the course of the autumn. This 
 was in (lie year 1769. 
 
 Having now completed an excellent education, and being about to settle 
 in his native country and enter on liis part in tlie drama of life, we are 
 lienceforlh to con(enn)late him as a different personage. For the sake of 
 order we sliall consider his character in a fourfold point of view — as a jjrac- 
 titioner of medicine, a teacher of medicine, a writer, and a man of l)usiness. 
 Sliould it appear (liat under eacli of these his rank was high and his merit 
 distinguished, the amoiuit of the wliole must prove him illustrious. 
 
 Having redwned wilh reputation from abroad, I)eing extensively known 
 in Philadelphia, where his i>rivate friends were numerous, and possessing 
 a pleasing figure and an easy address, with great affability and suavity of 
 manners, his success in his profession could scarcely be doubted. Nor 
 would his attention and assiduity fail to retain whatever business his other 
 qualities might enable him to accpiire. With tiiese advantages it was not 
 long till his brightest prospects were fully realized. In relation to the extent, 
 though not to the profits of his I)usiuess, he ranked in a very few years with 
 the oldest and al)lest physicians of the place, and was often called into 
 consultation with them in ditTicult cases. 
 
LIFE OP DR. nRNJAMIN UUSH. 33 
 
 IiKlnpondcntly of the more siibslantial Itcnciits which were, in most cases, 
 anticipated from liis jiidiijment and skill, the sympathy of his lieart, the kind- 
 ness of his manner, and the soothing expressions which he could so happily 
 em|)loy, rendered him at all times a welcome visitant at the l)e(l of sickness 
 and the honse of distress. No man knew better than he how important it 
 is to nnite tlie characters of the physician and the friend ; nor could any one 
 with more facility or a better grace effect the union. 
 
 Hut his mildness to his patients was in no case extended to the diseases 
 he had to combat. To them he was stern, inexorable and deadly. His 
 practice, although far from being unnecessarily harsh, was active and ener- 
 getic. He never, in the fibaracter of a passive observer, allowed nature to 
 struggle through the conflict alone. If be did not take into his own hand 
 so much of the work as to render himself the principal in the contest, he 
 became at least a very jjowerful auxiliary. In cases of a threatening or des- 
 perate character, his decisions were firm and his practice intrepid. If the 
 safety of his patient appeared to require it, he would assume responsil)ility 
 at the hazard of his reputation. In such instances he not unfrcquently lost 
 credit, for a time, by subduing sickness and saving life through the instru- 
 mentality of remedies that were not approved of l)y connexions or friends. 
 For such is the nature of the human mind that it will censure even when good 
 is effected, rather than acknowledge its en-ors or resign its prejudices. But, 
 provided the great object of his profession could be attained, he was regard- 
 less of other and inferi(M' considerations. 
 
 This trait in his character was strikingly manifested in the year 1793. 
 The citizens of Philadelphia will long remember that calamitous conjuncture. 
 They were attacked by an epidemic strange in its aspect and un[>recedented 
 
 VOL. I, I 
 
3 1 Mir, Ol DU. BENJAMIN UUSII. 
 
 in its innli'^uity. (Iio nahiir ol'wliicli. ;i( ils ousel. batUod (ho skill of the most 
 wise and (lisrcniiui^-, while ils olislinacy set at deliance the efl'orts of art. F(u- 
 a (iiue all who IVll widiiii ils path socnu'd destined to hecome its vicliius. 
 Consternation seized the piihru — the more so, because the opinions of the me- 
 dical facnlty in relation totlieevil nere various and contradictory. Different 
 physi( ians treated it in dillVrent modes : yet all api»eared to be alike unsuc- 
 cessfnl. llo\ve\er lair (hey mii:;lit fancy their prospects at the commencement 
 or durinj; the |>rop;ress of some cases, the death of their patients terminated in 
 (he end their theories and Iheir hojies. 
 
 At this period of ^looin and apprehension, allliction and death, (he 
 exertions of Dr. liush in behalf of his felhnv-cili/.ens were sij^nal and praise- 
 worthy. For weeks and mondis did he sa( rilice his repose, and, had Heaven 
 so willed i(, was fnllv prepared lo surrender his life — himself a( once (he 
 |>ions minister and the expiatory olleriui::; — on the altar of Immanity. 
 
 His house. althoin:;h itself the abode of sickness and sorrow, was (he resort 
 of thousands, m lioni lie was unable to visit at their oavu d\vellini;s. who press- 
 ed lo his doors for advice and assislance. Nor did he ever dismiss them 
 w itiiout ministerinj; to tlieir wants as far as his lii^hes( endeavours could avail. 
 
 In the midst of these distresses, w hen every thin;; aronml him presented 
 :\n aspect of woe and despair. i( Mas bis u;ood fortune to devise a mode »tf 
 treatment (iiat added not a little to the success of his practice. The remedies 
 which he eiiiploved. beinj; somewhat novel and atlministered in doses hirj^er 
 than usual, neither met. at tirst. the approbation of physicians, nor were 
 accommodated to the prejudices that had taken possession of the public mind. 
 The conse(ineu( (' \>as. a loud and extensive biust of reprt)bation against his 
 practice and himself. Hundreds of Uuii^ues were clanu>rous in tlieir reproaches, 
 while the public prints wore converted into vehicles of the most unwarrantable 
 
I,H'K 01' Dil, UKNJAMIN UtSII. 35 
 
 abuse. He was even charged with rauider, and tlacatened with proseculioii 
 and hanisliment from the city. 
 
 Unshaken by these shui(h'rs, and prefcring the welfare of liis fellow- 
 citizens to his own reputation, he resolutely persevered in the practice he 
 had adopted, because he was supported in it by tlie conviction of Ids judg- 
 ment and tiie approbation of his consdeiu e. The issue was, that of tiiosc 
 physicians who at first censured, many afterwards adopted bis remedies, 
 while the publi(-, abandoning their prejudices against them, acknowledged 
 Iheir |)ropriety and were benefited l)y their use. 
 
 It was honourable to Dr. Rush both as a physician and a man, that during 
 the prevalence of tlie several pestilential epidemics which visited I'liiladelphia 
 from 1793 to 180.3, he fearlessly stood by his patients and his practice, while 
 many of the faculty deserted their posts, and souglit in the country an asylum 
 
 from danger. 
 
 For several years the prejudices that had been excited against him in his 
 professional capacity by unfounded censures botli public and private, teiuled 
 not a little to the diminution of his business. They threw around liim a (loud, 
 which, without sullying, obscured, for a time, the brilliancy of his reputa- 
 tion. But the storm passed away, and he came forth again in renovated 
 lustre. In the latter years of his life the confidence of the public in his 
 judgment and skill was bigher than it had been at any former [)eriod. Hence, 
 instead of becoming m()re limited, as is usually the case, the sphere of Ids 
 practice appeared to widen witli the progress of his age. 
 
 lu the course of Ids long continued and extensive practice there is scarcely 
 a malady to which human nature is liable that did not fall under his notice 
 and his care. Nor is there reason to believe that he often failed to render 
 whatever of service and relief the state of the profession was calculated to 
 
36 LIFE or DU. BENJAMIN RUSH. 
 
 afford. Tint his highest excellence as a physician lay in his knowledge and 
 Ireatment of levei'. It m as in his combats with that form of disease, that he 
 manifested, at once, the strength of a giant and tlie skill of an adept. Although 
 it must l)e acknowledged that he was frequently vanquished in the conflict, 
 the misfortune arose, not from any fault in him, but from the imperfect condi- 
 tion of the art which he practised. 
 
 For many years [)ulmonary consumption and the diseases of the mind 
 constituted especially the olyects of his attention. In their philosophy 
 and treatment he was himself convinced tliat he had been the author of 
 improvements. On the correctness of this belief it belongs neither to our 
 province nor our inclination to dec ide. But it will be permitted us to 
 observe — nor do we make llie observation witliout reluctance and regret — 
 that, whatever may liave been the dea;ree of liis own success in treating 
 those diseases, neither liis precepts nor his example in practice are sufficient 
 to ensure in them success to others. 
 
 Dr. Rush possessed most of the qualifications of a great teacher. Ai'deut- 
 ly attached to his profession, ample in his resources, eloquent and ani- 
 mated in his delivery, and unusually perspicuous in his style and arrange- 
 ment, his mode of communicating knowledge was pleasing and impressive. 
 By enlightened foreigners, as well as l»y those of his own countrymen who 
 had visited the medical schools of Europe, he w as acknowledged to be one of 
 the most popnlar lecturers of the age. His warmth and enthusiasm had the 
 happy effect of awakening in liis pupils a similar spirit. Hence, his own 
 discoveries Avere not his only contributions to science. The habits of observation 
 and the love of experiment which he was instrumental in implanting in the 
 minds of others, conducted them to discoveries they would not otherwise have 
 made, Mhich were, therefore, jnstly though indirectly to be atti-ibnted to him. 
 
LIFE OF DR. BENJAMIN RUSH. 37 
 
 **' Qui facit per alhim facit per se" is a maxim true in physic as well 
 as in law : and it cannot be denied, that from the influence and example of 
 him whose life we are cunsiderin;; has arisen much of that enlightened energy 
 and spirit of enterprize with which, for the last twenty years, the science of 
 medicine has been cultivated in the United States. Wliat Boerhaave was to 
 the school of Leyden, and Cullen to that of Edinburgh, was he to the medical 
 school of Philadelphia— an awakening spirit tliat threw the minds of the 
 pupils into a state of action and research, which will accompany many of 
 them to the end of their lives, shedding light on their paths, and diffusing 
 around them the works of beneficence. 
 
 This tribute to Dr. Rush as a teacher of medicine is not to be received 
 as an expression of our assent to all the doctrines and sentiments which he 
 inculcated. His un(iualified adoption of many of the crude notions of Dr. 
 Brown led him to mingle a mass of error by no means inconsiderable with 
 the salutary truths which flowed from his lips. His doctrine of life, which 
 he laboured with patience and fortified with great ingenuity and address, 
 his theory of fever, his unity of disease, and his rejection of nosology,— all of 
 them the ofi"spring of Brunonian principles— will not long survive their illus- 
 trious author. We might almost have said that they descended with him to 
 the grave. Nor does a better fate await his doctrines respecting the functions 
 and uses of the spleen, the liver, and the thyioid gland; to neither of which, 
 indeed, were his eloquence and elevated standing able to give popularity or 
 weight even amongst his favourite pupils in the University. But, to make 
 amends for this, many of his practical precepts will be recollected and re- 
 ferred to as canons in medicine while the human constitution and the nature 
 of the diseases to Avhich it is subject shall remain unchanged. 
 
 VOL. 1. K 
 
>8 LIFE or DR, BENJAMIN UPSH. 
 
 Various are the academical honours, Avhich, in the course of his life time, 
 were conferred ou Dr. Iliish. In I769 he was cliosen professor of chemistry 
 in the college of Pliihidelphia. In 1789 he, in the same institution, succeeded 
 to the chair of the theory and practice of medicine, which had hecome vacant 
 by the death of Dr. Morgan. In I79I the college being merged in the 
 University of Pennsylvania, he was, in the latter estivblishment, elected pro- 
 fessor of the Institutes of medicine and of clinical practice ; and, on the 
 resignation of Dr. Kuhn, in I796, he was promoted to the chair of the 
 practice of physic, retaining also that which he had previously held. In the 
 discliarge of the duties of this combined appointment, altliough much too 
 arduous for the powers of an individual, he continued till Ids death. 
 
 Dr. Rush began early in life to exercise his talents in the art of composi- 
 tion. He is said to liavc become an author wlien in his nineteenth vear. 
 But the first fruits of his pen, like most other juvenile performances, have 
 passed away, and are forgotten. Nor is it proba])le that either the interests 
 of society or Ills own reputation have sufleicd by their loss. The art of 
 writing well, so as to benefit mankind, adorn literature, and do honour 
 to the author, is too difficult of attainment to be possessed by a youth at the 
 age of nineteen. For, although early autliorship ought to be encouraged 
 for the sake of discipline, and will be attempted from the impulse of necessity, 
 or from motives of vanity, it is notwithstanding true, that the scholar of thirty 
 five can but rarely examine without a blush the crude productions of his 
 juvenile years. However rich they may be in blossom and abundant in 
 promise, they cannot present the maturity and polish of finished compositions. 
 
 To the reputation of a line writer, which belongs not to the pro\ incc of 
 science but of literature, Dr. Uush had no pretension. His object was ex- 
 cellence in matter ratlier than in manner — his ambition, to Avrite usefully 
 
LIFE OP DR. BENJAMIN IlUSn. 39 
 
 rather than elegantly. Yet his style was animated, easy, and perspicuous — 
 not classical, yet highly pleasing, and in all respects superiof to that of the 
 generality of medical productions. 
 
 His professional works are comprized in five volumes, octavo, under the 
 modest title of " Medical inquiries and Observations" and a sixth volume 
 composed entirely of introductory lectures. Of these may be repeated what 
 has been already said of his public lectures. Although most of the theories 
 which they contain appear to be destined to a premature death, their practical 
 part will live with the writings of Hippocrates and Sydenham. To the 
 physicians of the United States they will be even more useful than the pro- 
 ductions of the Gi-eek or tlie Jirilisb pliilosopher. 
 
 The first four volumes of this work consist of tracts and essays on various 
 subjects ; the fifth, treats exclusively of the diseases of the mind. The latter 
 volume was not only prepared with greater lal)our, but was more highly 
 valued by the author himself than either of tlie others. Notwithstanding 
 this, it exhibits, if we mistake not, the strongest mniks of weakness and 
 decay. The rules of practice which it sets forth, being the result of experi- 
 ence, are valuable : but its metaphysics Ave think exceptionable, and some 
 of its views of mental affections among the most unsatisfactory of the pro- 
 fessor's speculations. 
 
 In addition to bis medical writings. Dr. Rush was the author of a volume 
 of miscellaneous essays, besides many fugitive papers which have never been 
 collected. This volume does not rank high in the literature of our country. 
 It treats of a variety of subjects that are deeply interesting to the welfare of 
 society : J)ut many of the speculations which it contains are considered fanciful 
 and erroneous ; and there is not in the manner merit sufficient to make amends 
 for the deficiency of value in the matter. One of the papers in particular 
 
40 LIFE OP DR. BENJAMIN RUSH. 
 
 wliicli the volume contains avows sentiments that proved for a time not n 
 little injurious to American literature — in the city of Philadelphia its perni- 
 cious effects have not yet entirely ceased to exist. The paper alluded to is 
 that in which the autlior lahours to prove, that the study of the Latin and 
 Greek languages, far from being either necessary or useful, ought to be 
 rejected from a course of liberal education. In a country which has yet to 
 acquire a name in letters, it is not a little surprising that a philosopher, 
 remarkable for his genius and enlightened patriotism, and exhibiting, in his 
 own character, a striking example of the advantages derived from classical 
 learning, should make a laboured effort to withhold these advantages from the 
 rest of his fellow-citizens. Yet such an effort was made by Dr. Rush. In- 
 deed, singular as it may appear, the course of instruction to which he seemed 
 partial even in medical science, was favourable only to moderate attainments : 
 for, although he himself had pursued his studies for eight years before he 
 received the degree of Doctor of medicine; he professed to be able to qualify 
 others for the same honour in the space of three years. But in this he was 
 mistaken. The term is disproportioned to the object to be attained. Believ- 
 ing that he had been instrumental in greatly simplifying the principles of 
 medicine, he set too high an estimate on his ])lan of iustniction. A very 
 limited knowledge of the subject is sufficient to con^•ince us that a medical 
 education acquired in three years is too superficial to adorn our country with 
 men of primary eminence in the profession. 
 
 As a man of business Dr. Rush moved in a sphere that was extensive 
 and important. In the year I766, when he had not yet completed the twenty- 
 first year of his age, he was deputed to negociate with the Reverend Dr. 
 Witherspoon, of Paisley in Scotland, an acceptance of the presidency of the 
 college in Princeton. The commission was executed with reputation to him- 
 
LIFE OP DR. BENJAMIN nUSH. 41 
 
 self, and to the perfect satisfaction of tlie parties to tiie contract. Tliis event 
 proved (he commencement of an intimacy and correspondence between liini 
 and the great Scottish divine, which terminated only witli the life of the latter. 
 
 He took a zealous and an active part in the revolutionary conflict which 
 severed the British empire, and gave existence, as a nation, to the United 
 States. Both his tongue and his pen were efTectively employed in the 
 sacred cause, and he was closely associated with many of the most distin- 
 guished Americans of the time. In .Tuly, 1776, he became a member of tlie 
 celebrated congress of that year, and, pursuant to a rule of the house, sul)- 
 scribed his name to the declaration of Independence which had l)een previ- 
 ously ratified on the fourth day of the same month. In 1777? he was appointed 
 physician general of the military hospitals for the middle department, and 
 was elected, in 1788, a member of the convention of the State of Penn- 
 sylvania for the adoption of the federal constitution. 
 
 Besides tlu-se delegated and official trusts, he took, as a member of the 
 community, a very prominent concern in all the leading national transactions 
 that occurred from the commencement of the revolutionary war till the 
 organization of our present form of government. Cotemporary with this latter 
 event was the termination of his political life. He aftenvards devoted himself 
 exclusively to liis profession, and to the discharge of liis duties as a private 
 citizen. The only appointment he ever held under the federal government, 
 as an acknowledgment of all that he had contributed towards its establish- 
 ment, was that of cashier of the mint of the United States. 
 
 In addition to these already enumerated, he Iield many other places of 
 honour and confidence, which were confen-ed on him by the sufirages of select 
 associations. He was, for many years, one of the physicians of the Penn- 
 sylvania Hospital, to the interests of which he most faithfully devoted a 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
42 LIFE OF DR. BENJA3IIN KUSa. 
 
 portion of his time. He ^vas president of the American Society for the 
 abolition of slavery, vice president of the Pliiladelphia Bible Society, an early 
 member and, for a time, president of the Philadelphia Medical Society, one 
 of the vice presidents of the American Philosophical Society, and a mem- 
 ber of many other learned and benevolent institntions both in America and 
 Europe. 
 
 In private charities and acts of hospitality, in public contributions for 
 benevolent purposes, and in donations to churches, colleges and other useful 
 establisements, Dr. Rush was always liberal — more so, perhaps, during a 
 part of his life, than was consistent with his income. But his object was to 
 do good, and he recognized no value in money, except what arose from tlie 
 proper employment of it. His charities as a pliysician were also extensive : 
 for, throughout the whole of his life, he regularly set apart a portion of his 
 time for the rendering of professional services to the poor. Those persons, 
 in particular, who, in a season of prosperity, had employed him as their 
 physician, lie never forsook in the hour of adversity, when the hand of 
 penury was heavy on their spirits. To their shattered and desponding 
 minds he feelingly administered the balm of comfort, w hile, by his attention 
 and skill, he removed or alleviated their bodily suflPerings. 
 
 But an hour awaited iiimself the severities of which neither caution could 
 avert, art countervail, nor all the solicitudes of kindness assuage. In the 
 midst of his honours and usefulness, advanced in years, but in the meridian 
 of his fame, he died, after a short illness, on the 19th of April 1813. From 
 one extreme of the United States to the other, the event was productive of 
 emotions of sorrow. Since the death of AVashington no man, perhaps, in 
 America was better known, more sincerely beloved, or held in higher ad- 
 miration and esteem. Even in Europe the tear of sensibility descended on 
 
LIFE OF DR. BENJAMIN RUSH. 43 
 
 his asbes, and the voice of eulogy was raised to his memory — for the man 
 of genius and learning, science and active pliilantliropy, becomes deservedly 
 the favourite of the civilized world. 
 
 In enumerating the excellencies of Dr. Rush's character, it would be an 
 unjustifiable omission not to mention, that during his whole life he was dis- 
 tinguished by a spirit of practical piety and a strict observance of the rites 
 and ordinances of the Christian religion. 
 
 His person was above the middle stature, and his figure slender but well 
 propoi-tioned. His forehead was prominent, his nose aquiline, his eyes 
 blue, and liighly animated, and, previously to the loss of liis teeth, his 
 mouth and chin expressive and comely. The diameter of his head from 
 front to back was uncommonly large. His features combined bespoke the 
 stiength and activity of his intellect. His look was fixed, and his whole 
 demeanor thoughtful and grave. 
 
 He Avas temperate in liis diet, neat in his dress, sociable in his habits, 
 and a well bred gentleman in his intercourse with the world. In colloquial 
 powers he had few equals, and no one, perhaps, could be held his superior. 
 His conversation was an Attic repast, which, far from cloying, invigorated 
 the appetites of those who partook of it. Yet none could enjoy it without 
 being conscious of intellectual refreshment — so ample were his resources 
 and so felicitous his talent for the communication of knowledge. 
 
 Such was Dr. Rusli. The more fully to evince our sincerity in settin"- 
 forth his merits, we have not forborn to speak of his faults. For nearly 
 three thousand years past, but few physicians equal in greatness have ap- 
 peared 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. 
 
44 LIFE OP DR. BENJAMIN RUSIT. 
 
 Hut it oni::;Ii( not to be forgolten tlint ovory thing conspired lo render the 
 subject <ir (his notice ilbislrious. If he was peculiarly endowed with genius, 
 he was no less lavonred MJtii all tlial ( oiiltl lend (o rouse it iutti action — edu- 
 cation and example, o[»portunity and evcitenient. Tiie conspicuous station to 
 which he was called so early in HIV served as a hotlted to foster and force 
 l)otli his lalenis and his aniI)itiou. na<l he been jdaced in the cheerless vale 
 of obscurity, or desliurd to struggle under a want of patronage, his genius 
 might have m it lit red and his ambition forsuivcn him beneath the inilueuce of 
 disappointment and neglect. 
 
.'-.H.AVK:.' IIY HOTD. 
 
 PCBIL.SSH1K1' B5f JOSKPM l»^i.3i^i.*i.til>l. 
 
 IPISMMIR .MMIEg ]E',§(I^^ 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 X HE subject of this notice possessed a mind formed for eminence and 
 attempered to virtue. Seldom has there been found in any individual so 
 enlightened a head united to a heart of such unspotted purity. A states- 
 man and an orator of transcendant abilities, he was fitted for the manage- 
 ment of the w^eightiest concerns ; a patriot and legislator of tried integrity, 
 the welfare of his country was the idol of Ids affections ; an advocate and a 
 counsellor of exalted standing, he appeared in the forum witii distinguished 
 lustre. Amidst the turmoil of public, and the distracting avocations of pro- 
 fessional life, he found leisure for the cultivation of classical and polite lite- 
 rature : he had, therefore, pretensions to the character of a sciiolar. Cicero 
 himself was scarcely possessed of more varied attainments. His pen no less 
 than his tongue was a ready organ to communicate, in glowing and energetic 
 language, the sentiments of his mind ; while his imagination, Avith the pow- 
 ers of a talisman, threw the colours of enchantment over all that it touched. 
 With such an asseml)lage of attributes, native and acquired, he was 
 peculiarly qualified to instruct and delight, enlighten and adorn. The 
 brilliancy of his diction, and tiie fertility of his invention, both as to argument 
 and figure, while they gave richness to his resources, increased his charms as 
 a public speaker. The quickness of his perception gave him an intuitive 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
46 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 insight into the weaknesses of his opponents, and enabled him to assail them 
 with the greater effect. Add to these, that his wisdom and ingenuity, his 
 erudition and address, chastening yet sustaining the fire of his eloquence, 
 and directing to its object his knowledge as a statesman, gave him an influ- 
 ence in debate beyond what was possessed by any other man in the councils 
 of the nation. 
 
 In any country or period of the world he would have attained to distinc- 
 tion. In England and France his eloquence alone Avould have rendered him 
 illustrious. In the dark ages, when superstition stamped her image on all 
 that was human, his virtues might have secured to him the reputation of a 
 saint. lu Rome, his love of country and his weight in council would have 
 raised him to the senate, while, in ancient Greece, his intellect, his know- 
 ledge and the powers of his oratory would have given him rank in private, 
 and high authority in public life. In the United States, where his destiny 
 had placed him, and where talents and industry skilfully directed seldom 
 fail to be productive of influence, he succeeded in acquiring that portion of 
 love and gratitude, admiration and renown, which the union of goodness 
 and greatness alone can command. The history of his life, which will be 
 an exposition of the means that raised him to eminence, it shall now be our 
 business briefly to unfold. 
 
 Fisher Ames, the youngest of his family, was a native of Massachu- 
 setts. He was born on the 9th of April, 1758, in Old Dedham, a pleasant 
 country town, situated in the county of Norfolk, about nine miles from 
 the city of Boston. His American ancestry was old and respectable, his 
 forefathers having been among the early colonists of New England. Most 
 of them were men of intellect and acquirement, and possessed of influ- 
 ence in the spheres wherein they moved. This was more especially the 
 
LIFE OF A? 47 
 
 case with the Reverend William Ames, of Christ's College, Cambridge, 
 author of Medulla Theologice, and sundry controversial tracts in divi- 
 nity. To escape persecution on account of his attachment to Calvinis- 
 tical principles, that distinguished theologian al)andoned England and 
 retired to the continent, vs'here he was elected professor in the university of 
 Friesland. He was a meml)er of the famous synod of Dort, in 1618. When 
 on the eve of his departure for America, where it was his purpose to pass 
 the remainder of his life, in the enjoyment of civil and religious liberty, he 
 died in November, 1633. 
 
 Dr. Nathaniel Ames, the father of him whose life we are recording, was 
 a man of acuteness and wit, of great activity and a cheerful disposition. To 
 his skill in medicine he added a knowledge of natural philosophy, astronomy, 
 and mathematics. He died in July 1764-, leaving a family of four sons and 
 one daughter. 
 
 Deprived of his father at the age of six years, Fisher was left to the care 
 of his mother, who, in straitened circumstances, was destined to struggle for 
 the maintenance of her family. But industry, a beneficent providence, and 
 strict economy rendered her successful in her arduous task. From her ten- 
 der attachment to the subject of this notice, on account of his being her 
 youngest child, or because she already discovered in him indications of genius, 
 she determined to bestow on him a liberal education. 
 
 He accordingly, but a few months after the death of his father, commenced 
 the study of the Latin tongue. For some time his education was in-egularly 
 conducted, in consequence of a want of competent teachers. Of these he 
 had several in succession : but he derived most advantage from the paternal 
 instructions of the Rev. Mr. Haven, minister of the parish at Dedliam, a 
 gentleman for whom he always manifested the highest regard. But his o^v^l 
 
48 JAFVl OP AMES, 
 
 industry find love of letters, united to an uncommon capacity for llie acquisi- 
 tion of knowledge, furnished the best substitute for the want of learning and 
 abilities in his preceptors. lu despite of difficulties he became, for his age, 
 an excellent scholar. 
 
 In the month of July 1770, Avhen he had but little more than completed 
 his twelfth year, he was admitted a pupil into Harvard university. In his 
 examination pre|)aratory to this advancement he acquitted himself with great 
 reputation, and im[)ressed his teachers with respect for his talents. 
 
 During his continuance in that institution he was exemplary, young as he 
 was, for liis attention to study, his irreproachable morals, his conciliating 
 manners, the mildness of his disposition, and the general correctness and 
 decorum of his deportment. Although spoiiive and gay in the hours of relax- 
 ati(»n, he w as neither a leader iu)r an abettor of serious mischief ; nor did he 
 ever consort with the dissipated or tlie vicious. He was familiar only with 
 those who were endeavouring to become familiar with letters ; and his attach- 
 ments were to such alone as were themselves attached to honourable pursuits. 
 
 Althovigh 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, notwithstanding, 
 in certain exercises, w ithoiU a ri\ al. This was particularly the case in relation 
 to the art of practical oratory. In speaking and reciting generally, but more 
 especially in impassioned declamation, he acf|uire(l and maintained an ac- 
 knowledged pre-eminence. The oratory of Ames continued to be cherished 
 in Harvard with fond recollection, long after it had ceased to be heard witliin 
 her walls. The invaluable habits which he now contracted, and the excel- 
 lent { haracter which he established as a collegian, had a powerful influence 
 on his future destinies. 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 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 49 
 
 a coUo^p. life l)iil rarely fail to be succeeded in age by corresponding fruit. 
 Wliile engaged in his academical 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 enlighten and 
 direct liis fellow -citizens, and the early flashes of that eloquence that was 
 destined to electrify the council chamber of the nation. 
 
 In 1774, w lien but a few months turned of ins sixteenth year, he obtained 
 the degree of Bachelor of Arts. As a pursuit for life, both liis own inclina- 
 tion and the advice of his friends induced him to direct his attention to the 
 bar. But his youth, the very limited income of liis mother, which rendered 
 it expedient for him to provide means for his own subsistence, and the 
 troublous times that were now commencing, prevented him from entering 
 immediately on his professional studies. 
 
 Some of the most distinguished men in Xew England have been engaged 
 for a time, after the completion of their collegiate education, in the instruction 
 of youth. To this hoiioiiruljlc aud useful employment Mr. Ames appears to 
 have devoted several years of his life. But while communicating know- 
 ledge to others, he was not inattentive to his own improvement. His active, 
 capacious, and enterprising mind collected information through every chan- 
 nel — fj1}servation and reflexion, 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, read all the works he could procure that were illustrative 
 of the Greek and Roman antiquities, and rendered himself familiar with 
 English poetry. Virgil, among the ancient, and Siiakspeare and Milton, 
 among the modern poets appear to have been his favourites. These he laid 
 under heavy contributions for the purpose of enriching and ornamenting his 
 
50 LIFE or AMES. 
 
 iniiul. .Most of Iho splondid passnj^os uliicli (liov contain lu> oommiKiMl (ti 
 Hioinorv, and >\oiil(I occasionallv ircilc tlioiu for the nidMtainnuMil of lii- 
 IVionils. .\l(lioii;;li. tVoni liis own aiknow lodgment, this (onr>o of roadin;:; 
 Avas iriTi^ular and dcsnllon. il was, in)t\\ itlistainl'm:;. Iii:;ldv iniporlanl (o 
 liinj. 'riieir can lie litllc doiiM llial lie was dccplv iiidchtcil (o i(. aliliou^li 
 himself, juM-liaps, nnconscions of ilic fat (. for man,v of liio m)i:;i'ons spcci- 
 llUMis of iina;;crv. wliicli, al siilisciniciil periods of liis life. Inusi ftntli \\illi 
 such a hislrc in his pnldic speeches, lieij;htenin;; tiii-ir lieanlies and atidin::^ 
 to their elVect. 
 
 JNlr. Ames conimenced, al h'ni:;lii. (lie >(iid_v of (lie law. in (lie ollice of 
 William Tiidor. Ks(|. of l>osion, and \\as adinilled to (lie bar in t^St. 
 Alth(tni:;h he nevec drew his sword in (he re>olntionaiv contlict. which had 
 now been raisin;; for several years, he had Iteen. willi liolii \\\> pen and his 
 to«{:;ilc, the ardent and aide ad\oca(e<>f Independence, lie eiiri( lied (lie 
 pnhlic (uinls of die ilav willi many e\(ellen( prodiutions. well calcnlated. 
 from (heir warniili, (heir patriotism, and (heir to^eiuv of ari;nn\en(. (o 
 aniunUe (lie liiUewarm and coiilliiii (lie wa\eriii:;'. Keeling as forcililv a>< (he 
 hnnian hear( can feel a love of lilier(v and a de(es(a(ioii of arltidarv power. 
 and con\ iiicetl that oiir cause was rii:;hteoiis in i(self. ami would iihimaddy 
 prevail under (he favours of Heaven, lie was lii;;lilv ins(riimeii(al in iiifiisin;; 
 into others a similar sen(imen(. and impressing; on their minds a similar 
 com iction 
 
 From the time of his tirst admission to the har. ^Fr. Ames rose conspi- 
 cuons over his vondifiil cotemporaries. He v\as remarked alieadv as a 
 pleader of uncommon ehnpience. and a coniiseller of jndi;inen( extraordinary 
 for his years. He also, ahont (his period, appeared w ith :;reat reputation, 
 as a writer of political essays, nader the sii^natnres, llr»( of Lucius .lunius 
 
MI'K OI- A^IKH. 51 
 
 HniiiiH, and afUirwards of (lainilliis. His paitcrs, yoim^ as lie waw, were, 
 IK) less ic|)l('ic vvilli (lie iriiixiiiis of wisdoin, mid llic Ichhoiih of ('xiicricticc, 
 lliaii emir lied \>y (In- Iciiilily and ndiniicd iirid fnli\('in'd l)_v I hi' lliisliis of 
 genius. They vvcrc, wrillcn in c onsc(|iii-nr i- of « i-iliiin (Inradiiinii; (iiiniiio- 
 tions wliirli (ixistcd in MassjuliiiscUH, and prodiKcd on (In- imhlir mind a 
 very Haintary ellect. 
 
 Tn I7H8 lie was a incniltcr of (lie <;«»n\cn(ioii «;illid in (lial, stale for tltc 
 purpose of ralifyiiiL:; (lie federal coiislilnlion. I(, was licre (hat, for (he first 
 time, his talents were exiiihidd in Ihcir fnll extent. They opened wilh a 
 Hplendonr that aslotiislied while it da//.led the asseinlily and the |inlili(. His 
 cclel)ra(,ed speech on hieniiial elections, delivered on this occasion, was not 
 only able and conclusive in ar^nirient, lint was jnstly regarded as a finished 
 model of |)arlianieiitary elo(pieiice. It ensnrcil his election to a seat in the 
 house of representatives of (he stale legislature for the same year. 
 
 To such a pitch had his ]>o|)iilari(y now ;irisen, (h;it (lie highest jdaccs 
 of honour iiiid (rust at (he dis|)osai of his constituents were placed within 
 his reach. He was accordingly, on the estahlishment of the federal govern- 
 i;ieii(, elected (lie liis( representative to congress from Siillolk district^ which 
 included uidiin i(s limits (he (l)^^n of iios(oii. 
 
 His talents :ind ii((iiiiimeii(s \\ci<' now (o eiiroiinier (lie severest of tests — 
 an ordeal, which, if |tass<'d in safety, would furnish ilecisive evidence of 
 their sonndiiei-s and extent — They were to lt«; l»roiii:;li( in(o conflict and coiii- 
 parison \\i(li those of the most distinguished stadsiiieii of (he nation, 'i'he 
 issue of the trial, arduous as it was, did not long continue donlttfiil. Tlie 
 very first struggle dedaicd in liis fa\oiir. He evinced, at once, the streii^di 
 of a giant and the skill of an a<lep(^ — the resources of age, pressed (o (heir 
 object hy the ardour of youth and the lirmiiess of manhuotl. He appeared 
 
52 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 now to the nation at large what he liail before appeared to the state of Mas- 
 sachusetts, a statesman wliose qualifications 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 Mas amply 
 confirmed by the course of events which afterwards ensued. For, although 
 illustrious from the commencement for his lofty eloquence and powers of 
 debate, he did not shine forth in all his brightness 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 tliat can occupy the attention 
 of a deliberative assembly were discharged by congress. The federal con- 
 stitution 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 established ; provision 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, matured, and carried into eilect. In addition to these 
 points, others no less difficult and of superior delicacy repeatedly engaged 
 the deliberations of the legislature. By a wise and firm, a humane and 
 magnanimous policy the friendship of the Indian tribes was secured, serious 
 diiferences with some of the European nations were accommodated, and the 
 country was saved from a foreign war. Commerce was cherished and 
 invigorated, a spring 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 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 53 
 
 most conspicuous part. While his wisdom imparted light to the minds of 
 his colleagues, his patriotic sentiments, impressed on their hearts by the 
 power of his eloquence, tended to confirm them in the discharge of their 
 duty. He was at once the champion and trust of his own party, the admi- 
 ration of the house, and the favourite of the public. 
 
 His speech on the appropriation bill for carrying into effect our treaty 
 with Great Britain, was the most august specimen of oratory he ever exhi- 
 bited, 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 
 lieard it — and the audience was dignified, 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 Ave have alluded had been continued 
 to an extent that was altogether unprecedented in the legislature of the 
 country. In the course of it the expression of pei'sonal feelings had been 
 freely indulged, and the collisions of party inordinately keen. The pub- 
 lic mind, although deeply interested in it at fii*st, had grown weary of 
 its length, and was anxious now that it should be brought to a close. The 
 house itself, particularly the members who had already spoken, gave strong 
 indications of a similar desire. For several days the question had been 
 called for at the termination of every speech, sometimes with a vehemence 
 and pertinacity amounting almost to a breach of decorum. 
 
 During all this time, Mr. Ames, in a very shattered condition of health, 
 and bowed down by a load of mental despondency, had remained a silent 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
54 LIFE OF AMES. 
 
 spectator of the conflict. He had (Ictormuied, he thought inflexibly, not ou 
 any account to mingle in the debate. He was, therefore, wholly unprepared 
 on the subject. He had even endeavoured to persuade himself that a con- 
 sciousness of his inability to exert his faculties had extinguished in him all 
 desire to speak. As the moment, however, ajjproached when the vote was 
 to be taken, and, in his estimation, the die cast, which must settle, perhaps 
 for ages, the ftite of his country, his resolution forsook him, and his patriotism 
 (riumphed over his prudence. 
 
 From an expectation on the part of some that the question would be that 
 day decided, and, of others, that, perliaps, Mr. Ames might, from a 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 
 flower of Philadelphia was present on the occasion. 
 
 In the midst of tliese circumstances, with a pale countenance and a 
 languid air, tlie orator arose, and, in a voice, feeble at the commencement, 
 addressed himself to the chair. Ou witnessing this patriotic exertion of their 
 favourite — the last, perhaps, he might ever make — the audience, Avho, in 
 their keen impatience that the debate should be closed, would have been 
 tempted to frown ou any other speaker, received him with an audible hum 
 of applause. To this involuntary expression of their satisfaction succeeded 
 a silence the most respectful ami 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 wiiich his fiame had long been a stranger, tlie orator's aitlour and energy 
 increased as he proceeded, his voice ac(iuired a wider compass, and he 
 carried the liouse triumphantly along with him. Never was mortal gazed 
 on with more stedfast attention, nor listened to with a superior degree of 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 55 
 
 tlelight. Pale and sickly as it was, his coiinlcnance was irradiated witli 
 unaccustomed lircs; whatever feebleness of voice miujlit still remain was 
 remedied by its distinctness, and forgotten, at times, in its exquisite into- 
 nations. 
 
 We heard him tiirougbout, and never can his image be eflaced from our 
 recollection, nor the sound of his accents seem to fade on our ear. Even 
 now, after a lapse of nearly twenty years, his look, his gesture, his attitude — 
 all the orator seems embodied before us. He addressed himself to every 
 faculty of the mind, and awakened every sentiment and emotion of the, 
 heart. Argument and remonstrance, entreaty and persuasion, terror and 
 warning, fell, now like the music, and now like the thunder of Heaveu 
 from his lips. He appeared like Patriotism eloquently pleading for the 
 salvation of his country. The eiTect produced is indescril)al)le. He seemed 
 to throAv a spell over the senses, rendering tlieni iiidiircrcnt, perhaps we 
 should say, insensible, to every tiling but himself. So completely did he 
 annihilate all perception and prevent all measurement of tiie lapse of time, 
 that no one present had any idea of the length of iiis speech. 
 
 When he ceased to speak, the audience seemed to awake as from a 
 dream of delight. So lost were they in admiration — so fascinated and sub- 
 dued by the charms of his eloquence, that no one hatl the natural command 
 of his faculties. Conscious of this, a member of distinction, whose senti- 
 ments were opposed to those of the orator, moved for an adjournment, that 
 the house might have time to cool and recover itself 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 
 
56 MFE 01' AMES. 
 
 a fliann. A lii2;lit'r romplimont to the powers of Mr. Ames, it was scarcely 
 widiiii (Iio ((Miipass of laiij;:;uaa;c to bestoM% An acknowlodginent was implied 
 ill i(. tliiil (lio most inflexible resolutions of the human mind, and tlie firmest 
 (■omi)a( I dial party can form, were in danger of being broken by the force 
 of his eloquence. 
 
 In (ousideration of his rank as a statesman and a scholar, (he College 
 of Princeton conferred on him, in the autumn of the same year, the hono- 
 rary degree of Doctor of Laws. 
 
 He attended the succeeding session of congress, but, owing to his inin-m 
 health, did not aspire to his usual ascendeiuy in business and debate. Yet 
 he was not a silent oI)server of events. On a few occasions, wiien matters 
 of peculiar interest induced him to speak, he appeared in nearly his accus- 
 tomed splendour. This was particularly the case Avhen he undertook to 
 prove, Avhat no one should have denied, that AVashington had an indubi- 
 table claim to (he umpmlilied love and gratitinlo of (he nation. 
 
 His time of service as a member of congress having expired, he declined 
 a re-election, determining to abandon political, and to retire to private 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 
 v'n:;ilant and sensitive mind was too observant of passing occurrences, and 
 too keenly alive to the aspect of the times to be entirely abstracted from 
 public aftairs. 
 
 Slill, therefore, to sustain the character of a citizen watchful of the 
 rights and interests of his tounlrv. he became again a political writer. He 
 fancied that he beheld his fellow-citizens in slumbers while danger was 
 approaching them, and liis olijeit Mas to arouse, to enlighten, and to alarm. 
 For these purposes, his pen poured into the public presses the same streams 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 57 
 
 of wisdom and eloquence, which formeiiy, in the house, of representatives, 
 had fallen from his toiigiii". Hut the sphere of his action, if not of his 
 influence over the afl'airs of his country, ap|»eared to he increased. When 
 in puhlic life, he had spoken Itut to hundreds, or, at most, to a few thou- 
 sands : I)ut millions were included in his present audience; for he addressed 
 himself now to his countrymen at large — to his cotemporaries in other coun- 
 tries, and to posterity. 
 
 His views in relation to political occurrences were surprizingly clear. 
 Even the mists of futurity were unahle to oljscure the I)rightness of his 
 vision. Hence, in many of his predictions, he might almost seem to have 
 been enlightened hy a spirit of prophecy — so accurate were his perceptions 
 and so perfect his disclosure of events that were to come. Of the cor- 
 rectness of this statement his writings afford conclusive testimony. 
 
 With but slight inten-uptions, occasioned by sickness or some unusual 
 pressure of professional business, he continued his contributions to political 
 literature as long as he was able to exercise his pen. 
 
 Once only after his retuement from congress did he suffer himself to be 
 placed in the council of the commonwealth of Massachusetts. In the year 
 1800 he prepared and pronounced, by public appointment, an eulogy ou 
 Washington. In 1804 he was invited to the presidency of Harvard univer- 
 sity. This lionour he promptly declined, assigning as his reasons, the 
 insufficiency of his health, and the unfitness, as he believed, of his general 
 habits for the perfect discharge of the duties of the office. 
 
 About this period his disease, which was pulmonary consumption, began 
 to manifest more formidable symptoms. His decline, although slow, became 
 regular and uninterrupted. His del)ility of ))ody was now extreme : but the 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
58 liTFE OP AMZS. 
 
 activity of his mind was still considerable ; and his firmness and fortitude 
 remained unshaken. He was sustained in his sufferings by consolations 
 derived from a twofold 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 friendsliip and affection, the claims 
 of his family, and the public lionours which solicited his acceptance — yet 
 none could meet death with more p<'rfect 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 residence in Dedham on the morning of the fourth of 
 July 1808. At the particular request of the citizens of Boston, his remains 
 were brought to that metropolis to receive the rites of sepulture and funeral 
 honours. An eulogy was pronounced at his grave by his early friend, the 
 honourable Mr. Dexter. 
 
 Soon after his death a selection from his political essays was published 
 in a volume of five hundred pages octavo, containing, as an introductory 
 article, an excellent biographical memoir of the author. This volume ex- 
 hibits evidence rather of his resources and capacity, than of liis perfection, 
 as a writer : for it is but too manifest that most of the articles of which it 
 consists, were composed in haste, and given to the world without revision. 
 It contains, notwithstanding, many excellent specimens of fine writing. Had 
 his talents been equally disciplined in the art of composition, no man was 
 better qualified by nature to rival the gorgeous elegance of Burke. His 
 works are honourable to his memory, and constitute a valuable addition to 
 Dolitical literature. 
 
LIFE OF AMES. 59 
 
 In conversation Mr. Ames was as eloquent as in public rlebate. His 
 person exceeded somewhat the middle stature, and was well proportioned, 
 manly, and unusually erect. His features were regular, his aspect pleasing, 
 his eyes hazle, and expressive at once of benignity and intelligence. In 
 his manners towards his friends he was easy and elegant, afl'aJjle and 
 warm, inviting confidence and inspiring affection ; in his intercourse with 
 the world, polite yet dignified, modest and well bred ; tlnis to the qualifi- 
 cations of a statesman and the attainments of a scholar, uniting the habits 
 and deportment of a gentleman. 
 
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 PUBLISHED imr JOSEPH 0E1.APLAXN£. 
 
 .iML"EX'f. MAMIl^T'OTT, 
 
 
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LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 IJY universal acknowledgment, Alexander Hamilton was one of the 
 greatest men not only of the country, but of the age in which he lived. Nor 
 were his virtues inferior to his intellectual endowments. Whether morally 
 or physically considered, his mind was alike gigantic and illustrious. 
 
 "Were we even to enlarge the field of our research, embracing within its 
 compass every country and age which the lights of history permit us to 
 examine, we should find but few individuals tliat could rival him in great- 
 ness. Such characters — rari nantes in gurgite vasto — are l)ut thinly scattered 
 along tlie spacious stream of human existence. Were we allowed the use of a 
 brighter, and we, therefore, think a more suitable figure, we miglit say, that, 
 like stars of primary magnitude, they glitter not in constellations, but in 
 distinct and widely separated spheres. In every department of nature it is 
 small bodies alone tliat are crowded togethei*. 
 
 In the whole course of their duration, Greece produced but one Aristotle 
 and Rome but one Cicero. Other men of eminence they possessed in abun- 
 dance : but none of mental attainments sufiRciently great to give rise to 
 epochs in human knowledge. If, in characters truly illustrious, certain 
 countries have, in modern times, been more prolific, still, in relation to the 
 world at large, the rule of their production at long intervals remains 
 
62 LIFE or HAMILTON. 
 
 imlji-olien. In Eiigkiul. France and America alone have such personages 
 appeared in quicker succession. It is in these portions of the globe that. 
 A\ ithin a shorter space than is usual, a Bacon and a Locke, a Milton and a 
 Newton, a Voltaire and a Franklin, a Washington and a Hamilton have 
 arisen to shed a lustre on human nature. In other regions whole centuries 
 pass away, and no such intellectual luminaries appear. 
 
 In the character of the subject of this notice nothing is discovered from 
 liis youth that is not of more tlian ordinary magnitude. In the whole history 
 of man we find Init few parallels to the precocity of his powers and attain- 
 ments. It w ill hereafter appear that at the age of eighteen, he m as consj)icu- 
 ous among statesmen of primary standing in the discussion of topics of the 
 Aveightiest concern. Eut ample and brilliant as was his early promise, 
 it was even more, perhaps, than realized by the vast performances of liis 
 riper years. 
 
 The versatility of his powers was as Avouderful as their strength. To 
 the transaction of all matters that were ever submitted to him he showed 
 liimself competent ; on every point of difficulty and moment he was qualified 
 to become great. What others learnt by experience, he saw by intuition ; 
 what they achieved by persevering labour, he could accomplish by a single 
 exertion. Hence the diversified eminence of his attainments, and the sur- 
 prising rapidity with which he rendered himself master not only of new and 
 intricate points, but even of entire branches of science. 
 
 Within the sphere of our own knowledge, or in the records of society, it 
 is usual to find individuals who are highly distinguished in particular walks — 
 in tlie forum, the senate, the cabinet, or the field — ^l)ut a single character pre- 
 eminent in them all constitutes a prodigy of human greatness. Yet such a 
 character was the personage we are considering. He combined within himself 
 
LIFE OF HAJIILTON. 63 
 
 qualities that would have communicated lustre to many. At the bar, his 
 ability and eloquence were at once the delight and astonishment of his coun- 
 try ; as a statesman, his powers were transcendant and his resources inexhaus- 
 tible ; as a financier, he was acknowledged to be without a rival ; in his talents 
 for war, he was believed to be inferior to Washington alone. To these we 
 may add, that in his qualifications as a writer he was eminently great. 
 Endowments so brilliant, with attainments so wide, multifarious and lofty, 
 have but rarely fallen to the portion of a mortal. 
 
 Yet with these he had none of the eccentricities, irregularities, or vices, 
 that oftentimes follow in the train of greatness. His mind and his habits 
 were in a high degree orderly, temperate and methodical. To his powers 
 alone, stupendous as they were, he never committed the performance of his 
 duty on any occasion of interest and importance. Preparatory to acting, he 
 bestowed on his subject all tlie attention that would have been requisite in a 
 man of common abilities. He studied it jjatiently till he thoroughly compre- 
 hended it. Hence, even in the minutest details, he was never found deficient 
 when he was expected to be prepared. To his moral habits, therefore, no 
 less tliau to liis physical powers, he owed it, in part, that he was consum- 
 mately great. But from this summary of his character Ave must proceed to 
 a more particular account of his life. 
 
 Alexander Hamilton, a native of St Croix, was born in the year 1757. 
 His father was the younger son of an English family, and his mother a 
 native of the United States — at that time the British colonies. Emigrating 
 to New- York when at the age of sixteen, he entered as a student of Colum- 
 bia college, in which he continued about three years. It was during his 
 pupillage in that seat of learning that he gave the first manifestations of 
 extraordinary talents, and an earnest of the future eminence that awaited 
 
64 LIFE OP HAMILTON. 
 
 The contest between the colonies and Great Britain having grown serious 
 and alarming, was now a subject of public discussion among statesmen and 
 patriots. The ablest writers of the day were partisans in the controversy, 
 espousing the different sides of the question according to their opinions of 
 expediency and right. Hamilton, under a fictitious name, became the 
 advocate of the colonies. Juvenile as he was, yet such were the wisdom 
 and compass of his views, and the manly vigour and maturity of his style, 
 that his productions were attributed to the pen of Mr. Jay, who was at that 
 time in the meridian of his illustrious life. 
 
 The quarrel having ripened into open conflict, the first sound of battle 
 awakened the martial spirit of the stripling. He could no longer repose in 
 college shades, while his country was in danger, and her defenders in the 
 field. He, accordingly, when in his nineteenth year, entered the army 
 with the rank of captain of artillery, and, in that capacity, distinguished 
 himself on several occasions. 
 
 Having, by his amiable temper and officer-like conduct, conciliated the 
 regard and affection of his comrades, it was not long till, by his higher 
 qualities, he atti'acted the notice of the commander in chief. A strong and 
 peculiar trait in the character of Washington was his intuitive discernment 
 of talent and worth. Never was this faculty exercised by him more happily 
 or with lietter effect, than in his selection of captain Hamilton to serve as his 
 aid-de-camp, which promoted him to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. This 
 event took place in the year 1777- From that period till near the time 
 of the capture of lord Cornwallis in 1781, Washington and Hamilton were 
 inseparable companions, both in the cabinet and the field. Never was an 
 aid more perfectly the friend and confidant of his commander, nor a general 
 more ably subserved by an aid. They shared together the dangers and hard- 
 
V 
 
 LIFE OP HAMILTON. 65 
 
 ships of that trying pei'iod, with a firmness and fortitude that were never 
 surpassed, and, by their l)ravery and united wisdom, were instrumental, 
 beyond all others, in conducting the arms of their country to victory and 
 glory. 
 
 Hamilton served as first aid-de-camp to the commander in chief in 
 the battles of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth. At the siege of 
 York-Town he led, at his own request, the American detachment that 
 carried l)y assault one of the enemy's out- works, on the l-ith of October 1781. 
 On these occasions his valour was daring and chivalrous. In the latter affair, 
 Avhich, though small, was brilliant and masterly, he displayed, in a very 
 signal degree, the higher and more heroic quality of mercy towards the 
 auquished. In addition to the sanction of usage and precedent, he had a 
 strong temptation to put to the sword the defenders of the redoubt, in reta- 
 liation of the murderous atrocities which had been recently committed by 
 the enemy at fort Griswold. But, to magnanimity like his, the works of 
 mercy were more congenial than those of vengeance : he, therefore, regard- 
 less of the past, and listening only to the voice of humanity, sheathed the 
 sword when resistance had ceased. 
 
 At the conclusion of the Avar, colonel Hamilton, being now married, 
 and having a family depending for its subsistence on his personal exertions, 
 entered, after a brief course of study, on the profession of the law. Still, 
 however, notwithstanding the calls of his interest to the contrary, he was 
 unable to detach himself from public affairs. 
 
 In 1783 he was elected a member of congress from the state of New- 
 York. At the succeeding session the proceedings of that body assumed a 
 character novel, striking, and unprecedented in vigour : nor, were we to 
 hazard the addition, umisually enlightened, would facts l)o wanting to prove 
 
 VOL. I. Tj 
 
66 LIFE OP HAMILTON. 
 
 the assertion. Such facts may be collected abundantly from the journals of 
 the house. 
 
 To ascribe to colonel Hamilton the entire merit of this improvement 
 Avould be probal)ly nnjust ; bnt more highly unjust would it be not to 
 acknowledge that he was tlie principal cause of it. He is known to have 
 taken an early and distinguislied lead in all the most important measures of 
 the session. He was uniformly a member and several times chaii-man of those 
 committees to wliich was confided the high and difficult trust of reporting on 
 such sulyects as were deemed most vitally interesting to the nation. The 
 reports prepared on these occasions are remarkable for that eloquence, energy 
 and luminous Avisdom, which characterise so strongly all the suJisequeut 
 productions of his pen. He was also the mover of several of the most 
 imjjortant resolutions to wliich the session gave rise. 
 
 Having ably acquitted himself of his duty to his country, colonel Hamil- 
 ton returned to the practice of the law. Nor was it long till he was fore- 
 most in professional eminence. But he felt that matters of a public nature 
 had still a claim on him which he ought not to resist. 
 
 When in the course of the revolutionary war, the British army had taken 
 possession of the city of New- York, many of the inhabitants, instead of aban- 
 doning their property and retreating into the country, had remained at liome 
 wdthin the lines of the enemy. When peace was concluded and independence 
 achieved, these unfortunate individuals were considered as aliens, and about 
 to be treated with all the rigour and injustice which the resentment of their 
 incensed fellow-citizens could inflict. 
 
 To prevent such measures as must, at l)est, prove highly disgraceful to 
 the authors of them, and wliicli, if obstinately persisted in, might, perhaps, 
 even terminate in riot and bloodslied, colonel Hamilton published in the 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 6< 
 
 year 1784 his two celebrated pamphlets, under the signature of Phocion, 
 addressed to the considerate citizens of New-York. These excellent pro- 
 ductions had the happy effect of calming the vindictive passions of the people, 
 informing their minds as to the moral obligations arising out of the conclusion 
 of the treaty of peace, and of iinally convincing them that moderation and 
 justice were not only in their nature most honourable and becoming, but that 
 they were alone consistent with sound policy. The last of these pamphlets, 
 in particular, must be regarded as a master-piece of analysis and profound 
 investigation. 
 
 In the year 1786 he was chosen a member of the legislature of New-York. 
 The session which ensued was momentous and eventful in an unusual degree. 
 Throughout the whole of it, lie was, on every important occasion, firm at his 
 post, inilexibly persevering, active and zealous, vigilant and great. In a 
 threatening collision, on the subject of territorial jurisdiction, existing at the 
 time between the states of Vermont and New- York, it was the principles of 
 policy which he introduced and carried into effect by the weight of his elo- 
 quence, that were principally instrumental in preventing the extremity of a 
 civil war. In one of his speeches on this occasion, he made an appeal to the 
 uniform tenour of his life and character, bold, frank and affecting in itself, and 
 which none but a man signalized by uprightness and purity would have 
 hazarded. " If, said he, in the public stations I have filled, I have acquitted 
 myself with zeal, fidelity, and disinterestedness ; if, in the private walk of 
 my life, my conduct has been unstained by any dishonourable act, I have a 
 right to the confidence of those to whom I address myself." 
 
 During this session of the legislature colonel Hamilton was elected one 
 of the three representatives from the state of New- York to the general con- 
 vention at Philadelphia, Avhose deliberations resulted in the federal consti- 
 tution. 
 
68 LIFE OP HAMILTON. 
 
 The coiijunctuve was awfully portentous and threatening. The issue 
 of tlic late ^^ ar, in its relation to the permanent welfare of the country, had 
 become problematical. Many began to fear that the blood of the revolution 
 had been even worse than uselessly slied. Liberty was likely to degenerate 
 into misrule. The only alternatives presented were the institution of a more 
 steady and vigorous form of government, or a speedy dissolution of the con- 
 federation of the states. Over either event serious evils Avere thought to 
 impend. They were both, therefore, deprecated alike by many characters, 
 who, from their wisdom no less than their virtues, were possessed of weight 
 and iniluence in the couimuiiity. 
 
 The responsibilities which such a state of things imposed on every man 
 whose labours might be serviceable to the commonwealth, wei'e weighty 
 and solemn. Colonel Hamilton was not of a temper to shrink from th(? 
 crisis. His chivalrous spirit seemed even to delight in difficulties and dan- 
 ders, whether moral or physical. With the same ardour, therefore, which 
 he had formerly displayed in the field of battle, he took uoav a prompt and 
 splendid lead iu all such measures as policy appeared to direct, and the occa- 
 sion to require. His pen as well as his tongue became an organ of wisdom and 
 an instrument of eloquence, which excited tlie admiration and applause of his 
 coteniporaries, and will transmit his fame with unfading lustre to the latest 
 posterity. 
 
 The doors of the convention were closed during its sittings, and its journals 
 have never been given to the world. With the precise part, therefore, which 
 colonel Hamilton acted in that body the public is unacquainted. An enlight- 
 ened member of it, however, is known to have made the following memorable 
 declaration. '• If, on trial, said he, the constitution prove inefficient and 
 unsuccessful, colonel Hamilton is less blamable on account of such a result 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTOIs. 69 
 
 than any othev raemher, for he ably and without reserve pointed out to his 
 colleagues what he apprehended to be the infirmities of that instrument: and, 
 if it answer the fond anticipation of the people, the country will be more in- 
 debted to colonel Hamilton than to any other member ; for, after its general 
 outlines were agreed to, he laboured the most indefatigably and Avith the 
 highest effect, to heal those inflrmities, and to guard against the evils they 
 were calculated to produce." 
 
 After the publication of the constitution, colonel Hamilton, conjointly 
 with Mr. Madison and Mr. Jay, commenced the Federalist, a work wliich 
 is justly ranked with the foremost productions in political literature. Besides 
 being the most enlightened, profound, and practicable disquisition on the 
 principles of a federal representative government that has ever appeared, it 
 is a luminous and elegant commentary on the republican establishments of 
 our own country. It was published in the years 1787 and 1788, in a series of 
 essays addressed to the citizens of New- York, and had a powerful iniluence 
 both in that and other states, in procuring the adoption of the federal con- 
 stitution. The style is as perspicuous, eloquent, and foixible, as the matter is 
 pertinent and the arguments convincing. 
 
 The part which colonel Hamilton bore in this publication, although 
 concealed for a time, has been at length discovered. Indeed had no key to 
 the authorship ever been found, readei's of taste and critical discern- 
 ment would be able to recognize, without such assistance, the traces of his 
 pen. Although his coadjutors possessed the resources of statesmen and the 
 learning of scliolars, their productions are greatly inferior to his. The papers 
 of Hamilton in the Federalist are marked by nearly the same superiority, 
 both as to richness, elegance and force, which is exhil)ited by those of Addison 
 in the Spectator. He wrote the whole work, except Nos. 2, 3, 4, 5, and 54, 
 
70 WFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 which are from the pen of Mr. Jay; Nos. 10, 14, and 37 to 48 inclusive, 
 from that of Mr. Madison; and Nos. 18, 19, and 20, in the composition of 
 which he and Mr. Madison were associated. Had he never been tlie author 
 of any other work, his fame as a writer would liave been conspicuous and 
 durable. For, although it must be acknowledged that he has, in various 
 instances, in the Federalist, violated the rules of classical composition, that 
 production would, notwithstanding, have done honour to the pen of Boling- 
 broke or Burke. 
 
 He was a member of the state convention of New- York, which met in 
 the summer of 1788 to deliberate on the adoption of the federal constitution. 
 By the enemies of that instrument the objections against it were urged with 
 warmth and great pertinacity. Its friends were equally strenuous in its sup- 
 port. For a time the issue of the contest was doubtful. But, while the argu- 
 ments of Hamilton carried conviction even to the minds of his political 
 adversaries, the force of his eloquence broke do«'n at length a concerted 
 opposition. Never was the triumph of talents and patriotism more conspi- 
 cuous and complete ; nor were they ever exerted with more zeal of heart 
 and rectitude of principle. 
 
 On the organization of the federal government, in the summer of 1789, 
 he was appointed to the oflRce of secretary of the treasury. The duties 
 of that department, intrinsically arduous, and essentially connected with 
 high responsibilities, were confessedly, at the time, increased in difficul- 
 ty by the co-operation of temporary but powerful causes. As no statis- 
 tical account of the country had ever been attempted, its fiscal resources 
 were wholly unknoAvn. Add to this, that the habits and feelings of the people 
 were far from being favourable to the organization of an efficient and per- 
 manent system of finance. But the mind of Hamilton was not formed to be 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. / 1 
 
 intimidated or vanquished. It rose in greatness in proportion to the diffi- 
 culties it had to encounter. During his continuance at the head of the trea- 
 sury, a term of between five and six years, his manifestations of genius 
 and talent were vast and varied — far beyond even the exalted promise of 
 his former achievements. He proved himself capable not only of arranging, 
 combining and maturing, but of creating the means necessary for the attain- 
 ment of the weightiest purposes. He perceived as l)y intuition the true 
 character and resources of the country, and devised with equal facility the 
 best plan of converting them into a basis of national revenue. 
 
 In his system of finance there was nothing unnatural, 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 Nature 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 con- 
 dition he raised public credit to an elevation altogether unprecedented in the 
 history of the country, and acquired for himself, both at home and abroad, 
 the reputation of the greatest financier of the age. 
 
 His official reports to congress, besides ranking high as literary pi'oduc- 
 tions, are among the most able and instructive papers on political economy 
 that have ever appeai'ed. It was his peculiar practice never to dismiss a 
 subject which he undertook to discuss till he had completely exhausted it. 
 Hence, as he left behind him nothing that was worth collecting, no man 
 could follow him with creilit in a course of argument. 
 
 Those of his reports which are most highly esteemed are, two on the 
 subject of a provision for the support of public credit, one of them delivered 
 in January 1790, the other in January 1795 ; that of December 1790, on the 
 
72 LIFE OP HAMILTON. 
 
 establishment of a national bank ; and that of December 1791, on the subject 
 of manufiictures. Even by the secretary's political adversaries, these have 
 always been acknowledged to be chef d'ceiivres in political literature. Nor, 
 considering the influence which these principles continue to have in our 
 system of flnance, can it be denied, that the author of them has a just claim 
 to the title of the founder of public credit in the United States. 
 
 Notwithstanding his merits in other respects, the official lal)ours of Hamil- 
 ton at the head of the treasury, conjoined with the purity whicli he manifest- 
 ed in conducting that department, will constitute, perhaps, in the eyes of 
 posterity, his fairest monument. Of him it may be said as truly and empha- 
 tically as of the elder Pitt, that " modern degeneracy had not reached him." 
 A spirit freer from corruption never animated the human breast. 
 
 In his capacity of secretary of the treasury, colonel Hamilton was one of 
 the constitutional advisers of the president of the United States, in relation 
 generally to his official duties. In this character his weight and influence 
 were understood to be great. Such was the confidence of Washington in his 
 wisdom and judgment, patriotism and integrity, that he rai-ely ventured on 
 any high executive act without his concurrence. 
 
 In the year 1793 an attempt was made by the minister of France to 
 involve the United States as a party in the war between that republic and 
 Great Britain. At that critical and perilous conjuncture, as well to hold in 
 check the spirit of lawless adventure, by declaring the existing state of things, 
 as to make known the policy which he meant permanently to pursue, Wash- 
 ington issued his proclamation of neutrality. 
 
 In the advisement of that measure Hamilton was known to have taken a 
 decided, and responsifde part. In defence of it he soon afterwards published 
 the essays of Pacificus, which were highly influential in reconciling to it 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 73 
 
 public sentiment, and in bestowing on it that popularity wbich it ultimately 
 attained. Althougb, from having been written amidst the toils and interrup- 
 tions of public life, some of these papers may be inferior to those of the Fe- 
 deralist in correctness of diction and elegance of style, they are fully equal to 
 them in pertinency of matter, perspicuity of arrangement, and strength of 
 argument. 
 
 Finding his salary insufficient for the support of a large family, colonel 
 Hamilton, in 1795, resigned the office of secretary of the treasury, and 
 returned once more to private life. But he had not yet learnt to detach 
 his mind from the affairs of the commonwealth. One public measure, in 
 particular, he felt himself bound to aid in vindicating, because it had been 
 entered into in part from his own advice. Tlxis was the treaty of amity and 
 commerce negotiated with Great Britain through the ministry of Mr. Jay. 
 
 The opposition which that compact had to encounter, as well from public 
 sentiment as in the councils of the nation, was vigilant and persevering, con- 
 certed and strong. Its friends were led to doubt and sometimes almost to 
 despair of its fate. 
 
 In this eventful and unpromising state of things, colonel Hamilton became 
 the public advocate of the treaty, and, in a series of papers, written with his 
 usual ability, under the signature of Camillus, entered into an elaborate and 
 successful defence of it. As the sun, in his ascent, dissipates the mists and 
 obscurity of the morning, such was the action of these luminous essays on the 
 doubts of the community. Error and prejudice were scattered by their 
 radiance, and brightness and truth became every where their attendants. 
 The treaty was ratified and carried into effect ; with what advantages to the 
 country, the long career of prosperity which succeeded can best testify. 
 
 VOL. r. T 
 
74 LIFE or UAMILTON. 
 
 Once more, aud, to the irreparable loss of his country, but once, was 
 r^olonel Hamilton destined to appear in a public capacity. 
 
 In her conduct towards the United States the republic of France had been, 
 for several years, unjust and haughty, dictatorial and menacing. Our com- 
 merce had been invaded by her, our citizens captured, robbed, and impri- 
 soned, and our public ministers ti'eated with insult. To direct and confirm 
 the people in the course they should pursue, Hamilton published with 
 conclusive eifect, under the signature of Titus Manlius, a series of essays 
 denominated " The Stand." 
 
 The measure of our injuries and indignities sustained from France was, 
 at length, filled up. No alternative was left but manly resistance or un- 
 fjualified sul)mission. The former was cliosen by the wisdom of the govern- 
 ment and the spirit pf the nation, enlightened and animated by the pen of 
 Hamilton. Such was the state of things in the year 1798. 
 
 To prevent invasion, the fortifying of our shores and harbours was com- 
 menced with promptness and activity, and to repel it, should it be effected, a 
 provisional army was called into the field. By Mr. Adams, then president 
 of the United States, the command of this army was proffered to Washington. 
 
 Forgetful of every thing but his duty to his country, that illustrious 
 veteran, Avhite with the snows of nearly seventy winters, accepted the offer. 
 But he attached to his acceptance an immutable condition. It was, that 
 colonel Hamilton, with the title of Inspector General, should be second in 
 command. 
 
 There appears to have arisen in the cabinet some reluctance to comply 
 with this arrangement, in as much as it would place colonel Hamilton in 
 command of those who had been formerly his superiors in military rank. 
 General Washington, however, inflexible in his purpose, because confident 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 75 
 
 that he was right, urged and carried the measure by the following frank and 
 emphatical avowal of his sentiments. 
 
 " It is, said he, at all times, an invidious task to draw comparisons ; and 
 I shall avoid it as much as possible : but I have no hesitation in declaring, 
 that if the public is to be deprived of the services of colonel Hamilton, in the 
 military line, the post he was destined to fill will not be easily supplied — 
 and that this is the sentiment of the public, I think I may venture to pro- 
 nounce. 
 
 '' Although colonel Hamilton has never acted in the character of a 
 general officer, yet his appointment, as the principal and most confidential 
 aid of the commander in cliief, aiforded him the means of vie\\ ing every 
 thing on a larger scale than those who had only divisions and brigades to 
 attend to. By some, colonel Hamilton is considered as an ambitious man, 
 and therefore a dangerous one. That he is ambitious I shall readily grant ; 
 but his ambition is of that laudable kind, which promjHs a man to excel in 
 ichatever he takes in hand. 
 
 " He is enterprising — quick in his perceptions — and liis judgment intui- 
 tively great — qualities essential to a great military character; and, there- 
 fore, I repeat that his loss will he irreparable J'^ 
 
 Such were the sentiments of him whose views of men were marked with 
 the clearness and certainty of intuition ; and who appears, therefore, to 
 have been less frequently deceived in his opinions of those around him, 
 than any other person, perhaps, that has ever lived. A loftier eulogium 
 on the merits of Hamilton it is scarcely possible for language to bestow. 
 
 Invested with the rank of inspector general, Hamilton repaired imme- 
 diately to his post, and commenced the organization and discipline of tlie 
 army. These he carried in a short time to high perfection, the materials of 
 
76 LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 his command beiug excellent in quality. His hours of leisure he devoted^ 
 with his usual industry, to the study of chemistry, mathematics, and the art 
 of war. In the two latter his attainments became great. To render him 
 conspicuous among the ablest captains of the world, nothing was now 
 Avanting but experience in the field. 
 
 On the death of Washington in 1799, he succeeded, of course, to the 
 command in cluef of the armies of America. But, from some cause of which 
 the public is yet to be infoi'med, the rank of lieutenant general — now justly 
 his due, according to the principles and usages of military promotion — was 
 never conferred on him. 
 
 Hostilities between the United States and France having ceased, and 
 their most material differences being satisfiictorily adjusted, the provisional 
 army was consequently disbanded. On this event general Hamilton returned 
 to the bar, and never again appeared in any official capacity. He was too 
 much attached, howevei', to the welfare of Ins country not to feel, during 
 such portentous times, a deep interest in public affairs. While he viewed, 
 with all the solicitude of a patriot, the course of events both in Europe and 
 America, he scrutinized them with the knowledge and discernment of a 
 great statesman, and drew from them the lessons of an experienced sage. 
 
 In the mean time his fame as an advocate and a counsellor continued to 
 brighten, the last exertion of his genius and talents being still considered 
 by those who heard liim the greatest and best. He had now before him a 
 flattering prospect of acquiring for his family the independence of wealth, 
 a consideration which, in his devotion to his country, he had heretofore 
 neglected. 
 
 In this flourishing state of his fortune and renown, a political opposition 
 which had long subsisted between him and colonel Burr, then vice president 
 
LIFE OF HAMILTON. 77 
 
 of the United States, vipened at length into a personal misunderstanding. 
 Between characters of a keen and chivalrous sense of honour, to whom au 
 affront or a slight is more painful than a wound, and who are prone to take 
 counsel of their feelings rather than their judgment, an event of the kind 
 is replete with danger. A reputed stain on the reputation of either can be 
 washed away by nothing but blood. 
 
 Ill June 1801 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 una1)le to make. 
 This led to a correspondence, which, after every honourable effort by the 
 former to prevent extremities, terminated in a challenge on the part of the 
 latter. By a man conspicuous in the eyes of Europe and America, and 
 looking forward to certain contingencies which might call him again into 
 military life, an acceptance was considered unavoidable. 
 
 As well from a reluctance to shed the blood of an individual in single 
 combat, as from an apprehension that he might, in some unguarded moment, 
 have spoken of colonel Burr in tei-ms of unmerited severity, general Hamil- 
 ton determined to receive the fire of his antagonist, and to reserve his own. 
 This determination he communicated to his second, who, after a friendly 
 remonstrance, acquiesced in the measure. 
 
 On the morning of the eleventh of July 1804, the parties met at Hobokeu, 
 on the New-Jersey shore, the very spot where, a short time previously, 
 general Hamilton's eldest son had fallen in a duel. 
 
 The tragical issue is known to the world. The cliallcnger was an adept 
 in the use of the pistol ; the party challenged much less so, had he even 
 come to the ground with a fatal intention. The terms of the combat Avere, 
 therefore, unequal. 
 
 voi,. I. u 
 
78 LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 On the first fire, HamiUou received the ball of his antagonist, and imme- 
 diately fell. For a time, the wound threatened to prove speedily mortal — 
 he was even thought by those present to be already dead. He recovered, 
 however, from the first shock, and survived until two o'clock P. M. of the 
 following day, when he expired in the forty-seventh year of his age. 
 
 During the short period that intervened between the fatal accident and 
 his death, he exhibited to all who approached him a most sublime and inter- 
 esting spectacle. In a body almost lifeless, yet suffering, at times, extreme 
 agony, his great mind retained its usual serenity and strength. Towards his 
 family and friends the warmth and tenderness of his affections were increased. 
 He uttered, in strong terms, his deep abliorrence of the practice of duelling, 
 declared that, in principle, he had been always opposed to it, and left against 
 it his dying testimony. He expressed, raoreovei', his sincere sorrow and 
 penitence at having been engaged in it himself, declared Ids resolution, should 
 he recover from his wound, never again to be guilty of a similar act, pro- 
 fessed his belief in the christian religion, and participated largely of the 
 t^omforts which it offered. 
 
 Throughout the United States his premature fjill excited emotions of 
 sorrow that MTi-e inferior only to those that had resulted from the death of 
 Washington. For a time, political distinctions were swallowed up in his 
 loss ; and, with a magnanimity in a high degree honourable to them, those 
 who had been hitherto opposed to him in public measures, united with his 
 friends in doing homage to his memory, and lamenting his death as a national 
 calamity. 
 
 Such honours Ilium to lier Hero paid, 
 
 And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade. 
 
UFE OF HAMILTON. 79 
 
 AUhougli in person below the middle stature, and somewhat deficient in 
 elegance of figure, general Hamilton possessed a very striking and manly 
 appearance. By the most superficial 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 arpiiline, his 
 eyes gi-ey, keen at all times, and, when animated by debate, intolerably 
 piercing, and his mouth and cliin well proportioned and liandsome. These 
 two latter, although not his strongest, were his most pleasing features : yet 
 tlie form of his mouth was expressive of eloquence — more especially of per- 
 suasion. He was remarkable for -a deep depression between his nose and 
 forehead, and a contraction 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 benignity. 
 
 In his dress he was plain, in liis disposition social, in his manners e.asy 
 and affable, in liis affections warm, in his friendships steady, in his feeling's 
 ardent, and in his general deportment a well bred gentleman. 
 
 It may I)e mentioned here, since it has not been done in a more suitable 
 place, that his eloquence was altogether peculiar and unique. It consisted 
 in the most rich and splendid elocution, united to the closest logical reason- 
 ing. A syllogism from him was as touching as a trope from any otlier speaker. 
 Although lie never sought for a figure, and seldom introduced one, Ids speeclies 
 were as brilliant as if they had been composed of nothing but the jewels of 
 oratory. Every thing lie uttered, having been digested and assimilated, 
 partook of the diamond qualities of his mind. In him, therefore, reasoning 
 and elocution united their poAvers to constitute eloquence of the loftiest, 
 order. » 
 
80 LIFE OF HAMILTON. 
 
 Such was Hamilton — the soldier of the revolution — the coufidaut of 
 Washington — the founder of the American system of finance — the enlightened 
 statesman — the great counsellor — the eloquent orator — and the man of prohity 
 tried and spotless. He retired poor from an office, which, without peculation 
 or any act that would have amounted to a breach of public trust, might have 
 rendered him as distinguished for wealth as he was for the higher riches of 
 his mind. His faults — for, being human, he had faults — are lost amidst hi^ 
 virtues, excused, or forgotten. 
 
li/ 'II in J/,„,/,<ni/l„.,/ Bnjr.n;.! h/ f.m.y 
 
 J'lli<ll.^hlJ f'l/ Joaj-lEB.UKl.ilT.MNK. /7/<-'.t7///r.f.'*J*HTl.An'^ 18H, 
 
 WA.STEIII^v.crT^.fi)>". 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 IjOXSLDERED as a compound of whatever is most estimable and magni- 
 ficent in man — corporeal majesty and strength united to ufiusual symmetry 
 and comeliness of person, intellectual penetration, vigour and decision, 
 unsullied purity, and moral grandeur — the subject of this article is without a 
 parallel in history or tradition. 
 
 In no other individual, ancient or modern, has such transcendant great- 
 ness been found associated with such exalted virtue. Pei'fection does not 
 belong to humanity ; but the nearest approach to it that mortal has attained 
 to is believetuto have been in him. A patriot without l)lemish, a statesman 
 without guile, a leader of armies without ambition, except that noble and 
 virtuous ambition which excites its possessor to become the greatest and the 
 best, a magistrate without severity ,A yet inflexible in uprightness, a citizen 
 exemplary in the discharge of every duty, a man in whose character \\ eak- 
 ness and faults appeared but as specks on the brightness of the sun — who 
 had religion without austerity, dignity without , ride, modesty without diflG- 
 dence, courage without rashness, politeness without alFectation, alfability 
 without familiai-ity : — Such was the illustrious personage whose life it has 
 become our duty to endeavour to portray. 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. «. 
 
 Geoiige Washington was the great grandson of John Washington, an 
 !^nglish gentleman of more respectability than wealth, who, about the middle 
 f the seventeenth century, emigrated from his native country, and became 
 ne of the early settlers of the colony of Virginia. He was born in West- 
 loreland county, at the seat of his ancestors, on the 22d of February 1733. 
 lis father was Augustine Washington, who, dying when but a young man, 
 ift him an orphan at the age of somewhat less than ten years. To the care, 
 lierefore, of a pious and excellent mother was he indebted for that education, 
 nd the timely inculcation of those principles of virtue and honour, which, 
 cting on a happy disposition and a lofty genius, and aided by a favourable 
 concurrence of circumstances, raised him to the summit of greatness and 
 glory. 
 
 He manifested at an early age a predilection for arms. AVlien in his 
 fifteenth year he obtained, at his own solicitation, the appointment of mid- 
 shipman in the British navy. But at the instance of his mother, who disap- 
 proved of his choice, he subdued his inclination to maritime adventure, and 
 consented to remain on shore ; so early in life did he begin to restrain even 
 his favourite propensities, and to cultivate the art of self-command, to which 
 lie was afterwards indebted for no inconsiderable portion of Iiis usefulness 
 and fame. 
 
 Of the history of Washington we know but little until his nineteenth 
 year. At that period we find him one of the adjutants general of Virginia, 
 with the rank of major of the colonial troops — an elevated station to be held 
 by a stripling. 
 
 W^heu at the age of twenty-one he greatly distinguished himself by his 
 liardihood and intrepidity, perseverance and address, in bearing a despatch 
 to a French officer of di^inction, and conducting tlie important busines 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 83 
 
 appertaining to it, through an extensive tract of unexplored country planted 
 with tribes of hostile Indians. This enterprize, in which were manifested 
 equally the ardour of youth and the wisdom of age, gained him high applause 
 and rendered him the depository of public confidence. 
 
 In the following year we find him, with the rank of colonel, at the head 
 of four hundred troops engaged in severe but unequal conflict. The scene of 
 action was at the Great Meadows, in the western section of the colony of Vir- 
 ginia, ^or security against a force joverwhelming in numbers, Washington 
 had thrown himself into a stockade fort. But human exertions can only merit 
 not command success. After a defence which procured for him a pul)lic ten- 
 der of the thanks of his country, to prevent a further effusion of blood, lie 
 agreed to a capitulation on the most honourable terms. 
 
 He next presents himself to our view on the field of Biaddock. We 
 here behold him in the midst of carnage, daring all that man can dare, and 
 performing whatever is in the compass of human power. When the comman- 
 der in chief and every other officer of rank had fallen, he alone, prot'- 
 Heaven for the fulfilment of great ulterior purposes, is left U 
 victorious savages, and to conduct to a place of safety f 
 army. All this he performed in a manner indicative r 
 He was now, though still but a youth, the - 
 the colonies. Tiie overthrow - '' 
 ninth of 3f' 
 
 Purl- 
 in thei 
 Was 
 froi 
 th/ 
 
84 LIFE OF MASniNGTON. 
 
 Througliont that period of confusion and blood, the confidence repos( 
 in him l)y his follow subjects Avas "^hout bounds. Young as he was, 1 
 was looked up to as the sourer - of all military operatior 
 
 %vhether intended for annoyanc ' any event occur 
 
 make his friends repent of the fulues» netency 
 
 command. By rejecting such military maxims 
 purposes, and adapting at all times his means to the enu 
 proved himself to be possessed of the talents and resources Oi 
 enlightened, and practical captain. He was then to the colony o:' A^irgi 
 what he afterwards became to liis native connti-y — its glory in peace, its 
 fortress in war. 
 
 With the close of public danger in 1/58 terminated for the time the 
 
 military career of colonel Washington. As a reward for his gallantry, public 
 
 services and worth, he soon afterwards succeeded, in marriage, to the hand 
 
 of Mrs. Custis, a lady equally celebrated for the elegance of her person, 
 
 ^mplishments and wealth. By the death of his brothe- " *"""' '"«'ars 
 
 ^ had become the proprietor of Mount Vernon, a a ate 
 
 e Potowmac. On that delightful seat he jsi- 
 
 *he felicities of domestic life; and, fror eeu 
 
 "ame, in a short time, first ami Iful 
 
 ' of A\ 
 
 was 
 
LIFE OF AVASHINGTOK. 85 
 
 actiou all the energies of his mind, enriched and matured by observation 
 and reading, reflection and years. He was one of the seven distinguished 
 citizens wlio represented Virginia in the first cougi-ess that met in Philadel- 
 phia in the month of September ITT"*- 
 
 A defensive war against tlie oppressive usurpations of Great Britain liaving 
 been agreed qu by that august and enlightened body, George Washington 
 was unanimously appointed commander in chief of the armies of America. 
 This high trust he accepted with diflldence and unaifected modesty, declaring 
 to congress his want of qualifications for it, and stating to them his resolution 
 not to receive any pecuniary compensation for his services. 
 
 Among the friends of liberty his appointment was productive of confidence 
 and hope, satisfaction and joy. By tlie military it was hailed with enthusias- 
 tic exultation, and he received on the occasion the affectionate congratulations 
 of all the constituted authorities of the country. As it was effected without 
 rivalship or opposition, it did not awaken either envy or jealousy. It was 
 the result of an intuitive perception and universal acknoMiedgment, that lie 
 was, if not the only certainly the most suitable personage for the momentous 
 trust. It was a great act of national homage spontaneously paid to pre-eminent 
 cndoAvments. 
 
 Massachussetts was now the seat of war, and Boston itself in possession 
 of the enemy. The American troops were so posted in different entrenched 
 situations around the capital, as to protect the country from predatory excur- 
 sions. But they were wholly unprepared for offensive operations. 
 
 When general AVashington took command of the army he found it greatly 
 in want of ammunition and bayonets, clothes and working tools, and entirely 
 destitute of skilful engineers. Nor had there yet been introduced into it that 
 
 VOL. I. v 
 
86 LIFE OP WASHINGTON. 
 
 strict discipline and unity of spirit which are essential components of military 
 strength. It consisted of excellent materials for an army, but was yet to be 
 organized, trained, and rendered efficient. To remedy all existing evils the 
 exertions of the general were indefatigable and great. Great, too, were the 
 difficulties with which he had to contend. But most of them yielded to his 
 industry and genius. 
 
 No sooner was he able to rely on his troops, than he became anxious for 
 an opportunity to meet the enemy. It was his policy, however, to receive 
 battle, rather than to offer it — to defend fortificatious, not to attack them. 
 But the caution of the British commander, who would not suffer himself to 
 be drawn from behind his works, frustrated his purposes, while the Ameri- 
 can officers, wlien assembled in council, uniformly determined against the 
 propriety of an assault. Various and bold were the enterprises, as a correct 
 liistory of the time evinces, wliich the active and intrepid mind of Washing- 
 ton meditated against the enemy ; but the execution of them was prevented 
 by insurmountable obstacles. 
 
 Thus passed the winter of 1775-6, without any signal achievement in 
 arms. By those who conceived that able generalship consisted in nothing 
 but a fondness for battle, Washington was accused of a want of energy. But, 
 confiding in his own judgment, and steady to his great purposes^ he assumed 
 all the responsibility attached to the course he had chosen to pursue, and 
 listened to the calumnies that were propagated against him as the clamours 
 of weakness, or, at best, as the murraurings of a misguided impatience. In 
 the month of March he compelled general Howe, by means of a bold and 
 masterly movement, either to meet him on his own terms, or to evacuate 
 Boston. The latter alternative was most agreeable to the British commander. 
 Thus ended what was denominated the campaign of 1775- « 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 87 
 
 The campai^'? of I776 soon afterwards opened in a different quarter, and 
 on a very different scale. The seat of war was removed to New-York and 
 New-Jersey, and the number of men brought to operate against the colonies 
 by land and sea amounted by computation to fifty-five thousand. The highest 
 amount of the American army during this campaign did not exceed twenty- 
 seven thousand. Of these a large proportion was militia, and one fourth of 
 the whole number rendered by sickness unfit for service. 
 
 To render his army as efficient as possible, general AVashington, besides 
 establishing a system of discipline the best he could iuforce, endeavoured, in 
 general orders, and by some of the most eloquent and touching addresses that 
 ever were penned, to operate on the patriotism, the sense of honour, and the 
 domestic feelings of the officers and men. 
 
 On the 37th of August occurred the memorable battle of Long Island. 
 On this occasion, from a want of matured discipline, more especially of 
 concert and celerity in their movements, rather than from a deficiency in 
 numbers or bravery, the Americans experienced an entire defeat. lu this 
 affair general Sullivan commanded in person, Washington being only a 
 spectator of the scene. He assumed, however, to himself, on the following 
 uight, the immediate superintendance of the evacuation of Long Island, iu 
 the execution of which he effected one of the most masterly retreats tliat is 
 any where recorded in military annals. During these transactions he passed 
 forty-eight hours without sleep, being almost the whole of the time on horse- 
 back. His retreat was favoured by a happy and peculiar combination of 
 circumstances, as if Heaven itself had designed them in his behalf — the 
 unusual darkness of the night, a fair wind, and the occurrence of an impene- 
 trable fog iu the morning. Tlie number of troops to be withdrawn from the 
 Island was nine thousand, with all their baggage, tents, and field artillery. 
 
88 LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 
 
 From the place of embavcaiion the Bi'itish lines were distant only about six 
 liundred yards. Notwitiistandiiig this, in less than thirteen hours, and 
 without the knoAvledgc or suspicion of the enemy, the retreat was completed. 
 To see that nothing was left undone, general Washington i-emained on the 
 Long Island shoi*e till his army and all their equipments had left it, and 
 embarked himself in the last boat. 
 
 It was shortly after this, tliat, for the only time during the war, his 
 tranquillity seemed ruffled, aud Ms power of self government in any measure 
 shaken. Driven to desperation by the dastardly conduct of a part of his 
 army, lie placed himself, and continued for several minutes, in the rear of 
 his troops, exposed to a destructive fire of the enemy, in hopes to escape, by 
 an honourable death, tlic disgrace which, in a moment of distraction, he 
 fancied awaited himself and his country. But, as on other occasions, the 
 liand of Heaven appeared to be over him ; and his aids, by their exertions, 
 succeeded in conducting him from the field of danger. 
 
 Forced from his position in New-York, we next find Washington retreat- 
 ing through New-Jersey. Here, his difficulties and embarrassments, dan- 
 gers and suflTeriugs were inconceivably great. By the expiration of their 
 terms of service, desertion, sickness, and other misfortunes incidental to war, 
 his army was reduced to an inconsiderable remnant. AVinter was approacli- 
 ing, and the few troops that remained faithful to his standard were destitute 
 of every comfort, and almost of every necessary of life. An enemy amply 
 provided, overwhelming in numbers, and flushed with victory hung on his 
 rear. A spirit of despondency was rapidly spreading among the votaries of 
 freedom. But the mind of Washington was proof against the contagion. 
 Great at all times, but greatest in adversity, his spirit rose above misfortune, 
 and he did not despair of the success of his c»use. Inflexible in his deter- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 89 
 
 niination to save his country or perish in the conflict, lie infused into his 
 followers the same I'esolution. It was hence, under providence, that the arms 
 of America were rendered invincihle. 
 
 He was separated from the enemy hy nothing but the Delaware, they on 
 the NeAV- Jersey, he on the Pennsylvania shore. Ever on the alert to improve 
 opportunity, and anxious, by some signal stroke, to remove the depression 
 which hung like a mildew on the public mind, he resolved to cross the river 
 and become the assailant. The night of the twenty-fifth of December was 
 selected for the enterprise. The object in view was to attack, by surprise, a 
 body of sixteen hundred Hessians and English who Avcre stationed in 
 Trenton. 
 
 The weather was intensely cold, the Delaware swoln by a late fall of 
 rain, and the passage over it rendered difficult and dangerous by large 
 masses of floating ice. But the determination of the chief to assault his 
 enemy was not to be shaken. Although the troops were in motion early in 
 the evening, it was four o'clock in the morning before they had all reached 
 the opposite shore, and were ready to take up the line of march. They 
 moved towards their destination without further hindrance, antl before sun- 
 rise the enterprise was complete. Such were the gallantry and impetuosity 
 of their attack, that the enemy surrendered or fled without much resistance. 
 The trophies of the day were, from thirty to foi'ty of the Hessians killed and 
 wounded, upwards of nine hundred prisoners, several pieces of field artil- 
 lery, most of the standards belonging to the jjarty, and a large and valuable 
 amount of baggage. The loss on the side of the Americans was inconsidera- 
 ble. Having returned to Pennsylvania for the security of their prisoners, the 
 American army recrossed the Delaware and took position in Trenton. 
 
 To that place lord Cornwallis, the commander of the British troops in the 
 
 VOL. I. z 
 
90 LIFE OF TS'ASHINGTON. 
 
 State of New-Jersey, marched iiumediately vitli all his forces, Itrealhing 
 vengeance and death, and bent on retrieving the late disaster which his arms 
 had sustained. He approached the Americans with an ai'my vastly superior 
 to them not only in numbers and discipline, but in all the munitions and 
 equipments of war. 
 
 Having, on the evening of the second of January 1777? taken a position 
 which, in his opinion, placed the American army completely in his poAver, 
 he encamped for the night, confident of making a successful attack in tlie 
 morning. But lie was little acquainted with the genius of the chief M'ith 
 whom he had to contend. Instead of waiting to receive in his lines the 
 meditated assault of lord Cornwallis, general Wasliington, leaving his 
 encamiiment in the niglit, moved silently off l)y the left of the enemy, and, 
 cai'ly in the morning, attacked and overthrew a strong rear guard that was 
 stationed at Princeton. The conflict was, for a time, severe and sanguinary. 
 The loss of the British, in killed, wounded and pi'isoners amounted to up- 
 wards of six hundred : the Americans lost, in killed and wounded, about 
 one hundred and fifty. 
 
 To ensure victory in this affiiir Washington encountered the utmost peril. 
 At the commencement of the action, the van of his army, which consisted 
 chiefly of Pennsylvania militia, was thrown into confusion and began to 
 give way. To repair this misfortune, lie led on in person a column of his 
 regulars, and, when the battle was fiercest and most deadly, remained 
 some time between the hostile lines, exposed to almost equal danger from the 
 fire of each. Had he never projected a military adventure but this and the 
 late one in Avhicli lie had captured the Hessians at Trenton, history would 
 have recorded him as a great captain. More enterprise, intrepidity and skill 
 iu war have never been manifested under similar circumstances. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 91 
 
 The moral effect of these two great ami fortunate achievements was be- 
 yond description. It was decisive of the issue of the revolutionary contest. 
 From this moment despondency was at an end, and the spirit of the army 
 and the nation became confident and proud. No sooner had the news 
 reached the court of Versailles, than France became tlie ally of the United 
 States — so momentous were the benefits which the genius of Washington 
 bestowed on his country ; and so deep is her debt of gratitude to his memory ! 
 But for the events of Trenton and Princeton, there is reason to apprehend 
 that public liope would have expired, the energy of the states been paralysed, 
 and the liberties of America ultimately lost. 
 
 After sundry instances of generalship and military address in the state of 
 New-Jersey, in Avhich Washington had manifested a decided ascendency 
 over the British commander, we find him, on the 9th of Septeml)er 1777, 
 engaged in the celebrated battle of Brandywiue, This was the most general 
 and extensive affair that had occurred since the commencement of the war, 
 the greatest part of the forces on each side being -engaged in the conflict. 
 In justice to the American chief it must be observed, that he fought this 
 battle in compliance with the directions of congress, and to gratify what 
 he knew to be the pretlominant wish of the public, rather than from the 
 dictates of his own judgment. He Avas perfectly aware of the risk he ran in 
 encountering a disciplined with an undisciplined army. But the people were 
 impatient for an essay in arms, the supreme council of the nation had ordered 
 it, and he did not deem it expedient too far to disappoint expectation ; nor did 
 he feel himself at liberty to disobey the mandate. Although the fortune of the 
 day was against him, he lost, in the estimation of his country, nothing of the 
 fame he had previously acquired. Individually speaking, his arrangements 
 and exertions merited victory, but he was not in possession of means to ob- 
 tain it. 
 
92 Lirii 01' M'ASIIINGTON. 
 
 Tlic defeat, liowin'cr, wliich lie experienced on this occasion, was far from 
 ainoiinliii;; (o an eiilire overthrow. A few days only elapsed till he was aj:;aiii 
 ill a (oiidilion lo olVcr batlie : liiit a severe storm which suddenly arose pre- 
 vented the conllicl. lie made a second oiler (o I lie same ell'ect, which the 
 enemy declined. 'I^hese iiioxciiieiits were liii;;hly important to the cause of 
 freedom. Tiiey convinced the Ameii( an people that the misfortnnes of IJran- 
 dywine had not maleriaily impaired the eiliciency of the army, and thereby 
 sn|)porled their spirits and their hopes. 
 
 The commander of (lie l?rilisli forces now look possession of Philadelphia, 
 and posted a slroiii;; di\ isioii of his army in fiermaiilow n. 'I'his division 
 i::;eneral W'ashiiii^ton determiiie<l lo attack, a measure \\ iiich he elVected on 
 the moiiiini:; of the Mli of OcIoIkm-. 'I'lie alVair was planned with ;:;ieat 
 wisdom, and [iromiseii, at first, a glorious issue. Hut, from the foi:;ji;iness of 
 the morninii;, which prevented llie several parlies of llie assailants from acting 
 ill (oiKeil, and llie occiiireiKe of accidents from other causes that could not he 
 foreseen, the enterprise failed. »"ashin'i;ton lost a vi( lory Avhich he lhoii;;ht, 
 at one moment, Avithin his i^rasp: hut he forfeited nothiiii:; of the pnhlic 
 coiilidence. Kor llii- wisdom and iirmness which he manifested on the occa- 
 sion, he received the unanimous Ihanlis of conjijress. 
 
 Soon after this, while the American army, haviii;;; received reinforcements, 
 lay encamped at AVMiitemarsh, ^;eneral Howe, hein^ also reinforced, marched 
 out of I'hiladelpiiia, iii •;ieal slieii;;l!i, with the a\(>\\ed iiilention of oflerina; 
 liattle. His ohjecl was to dr.nv his enemy out of a stron>;- position which 
 lie had ( lioseii, Ihal he mi^hl eiif;a::;e him to the more advaiilai^e in open 
 i:;rouiid. IJul llie American conniiander knew too well llie value of his |)ost 
 lo sillier himself lo lie demyed from it Ity arlilice, or liaiilered from it hy 
 deliame. lie, iu llie nu'aii time, however, meditated llie hold and hardy 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 93 
 
 enterprise of an assault on Philadclpliia I)y night. In this he was prevented 
 by the sudden and unexpected return of general Howe wltliin the lines of 
 that city — a movement whitii, on military principles, could be neither justified 
 nor explained. 
 
 It was now December, and the season was cold. Towards the close of 
 that month general Washington retired into winter quarters at Valley Forge. 
 Here, the fortitude and patience of his soldiers experienced a trial almost too 
 severe for human nature to endure. For a time they were unfed, unclothed, 
 and without a shelter from the inclemency of the weatlier. Nothing but the 
 personal influence of their much loved commander could have retained them 
 in service. The mere principles of the military compact would have been 
 insufficient for the purpose. But the dissolution of the army at this period 
 •would have been the loss of freedom. To general Washington alone, there- 
 fore, may the achievement of our freedom, in a two-fold point of view, be 
 fairly attributed. 
 
 In the mean time, he, in his personal and official character, sustained 
 the utmost injustice and wrong. Moved by envy, or something worse, a 
 faction of malcontents was formed, whose object was to procui-e his removal 
 from command, or to compel him to resign. Intrigue and corruption, false- 
 hood and calumny were the weapons they employed. But the mischief they 
 meditated recoiled on themselves. The reputation of Washington was not 
 to be sullied by the breath of slander; nor could he l)e forced from his 
 strong hold in the aifections of his country by the efforts of a feeble but 
 wicked conspiracy. Disdaining to make the slightest defence in person, 
 his standing alone gave him an easy triumph over all the engines that 
 treachery and malice could array against him. Against such of the slan- 
 derers of the hero as became known, the indignation of tlie pul)lic was strong 
 
 vni,. I, \ a 
 
94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and loiul; while odium attached to the characters of all who were in any 
 ineasurc suspected. In the mind of every friend to his country the whole 
 transaction excited such emotions of detestation and contempt, that the mor- 
 tification of those concerned in whicli it resulted, was equalled only hy the 
 daring profligateness wherein it had originated. To be known as the enemy 
 of Washington Avas almost as odious as to be a public traitor. 
 
 The Brilisli army having abandoned Philadelphia on tiic 17th and IStli 
 of June 1778? general Washington pursued them, annoying them in their 
 march through the state of New-Jersey. From the first intelligence of their 
 retiring from the city, it had been his wish to engage them in a general action. 
 But in this he was decidedly and almost unanimously opposed by a council 
 of his officers. No less intrepid and enterprising, however, than cautious and 
 prudent, he assumed himself the responsibility of such measures as could 
 scarcely fail to accomplish his object. The result was conformable to his 
 expectation and wishes. On the 28th of June he met the enemy on the plains 
 of Monmouth. The action soon became general and sanguinary. Notwith- 
 standing some improper conduct on the part of general Lee, who commanded, 
 at his own request, the front division, the day was glorious to the Ameiican 
 arms, and manifested the soundness of Washington's judgment. The British 
 forces, although not routed, were certainly defeated ; for, after being beaten 
 from several of their advanced positions, they retired in silence from their 
 encampment on the following night, their dead being unl)uried, and their 
 wounded left behind them. For his " great good conduct" in this afiair, and 
 his activity and skill in the movements which led to it, general Washington 
 was complimented with the unanimous thanks of congress. 
 
 During the remainder of the present and the whole of the two succeeding 
 campaigns, it did not fiill to the lot of the commander in chief to be person- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 95 
 
 ally concerned in any very distinguished militaiy events. But his active and 
 cajjacious mind had full employment in the public service. In the council 
 chamljer of the nation as well as in the field, he was virtually if not formally 
 consulted in every important measure that was agitated. In all matters of a 
 military nature his judgment was regarded as intuitively great and perfectly 
 practical. Hence, in many instances, congress did little more than carry into 
 effect what they knew to be his wishes. But this, unfortunately, was not 
 always the case. AV^asiiiiigton was never gratified in the character of the 
 army which it was his wish to command. On principle, as well as from long 
 and disastrous experience, he had no confidence in the efficiency of militia. 
 In active warfare against a disciplined and well provided foe, he considered 
 them but as little better than an empty name. Hence his persevering imi)or- 
 tunity with congress to fill up the ranks of the regular army. Had this been 
 done pursuant to his recommendation, the character of the revolutionary 
 contest would have been widely different from what it actually was. So, in 
 like manner, would that of the commander in chief have appeared to the 
 world. The war, on the part of the Americans, would have been a con- 
 tinued scene of action and assault : the enemy would never have been suffer- 
 ed to repose in security on the soil of freedom ; and Washington would have 
 proved himself as ardent and enterprising as he was judicious and prudent. 
 Those — and there are many such — who consider prudence as the predomi- 
 nant quality of the American chief— are mistaken. That he was prudent, 
 no one will deny. But he was much more — he was truly great: and pru- 
 deuce is but an inferior component of greatness. 
 
 The qualities which, as a warrior, Washington manifested most strongly 
 duiing the revolutionary conflict were, a perception intuitively clear, a cool- 
 ness at no time disturbed, a fii-mncss that notiiing could shake, and a practical 
 
96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 judgment tliat rarely erred. He exhibited, also, on various occasions, a 
 strong disposition to enterprise: but that disposition his judgment held in 
 check, in consideration of the uniform deiiciency of his means. Great enter- 
 prise corresponding with great means is one of the highest military virtues; 
 when pushed beyond means, it is rashness. From the latter, Washington 
 was perfectly exempt. His excellence, as a commander — and it is the 
 highest excellence a commander can possess — consisted in his perfect adap- 
 tation of his measures and movements to his preparation and means. When, 
 in point of military strength and position, lie found himself equal to liis enemy, 
 he courted battle : when conscious of his inferiority, he rigidly declined it, 
 even, at times, to the temporary injury of his reputation in arms. W^lien the 
 case was doubtful, he skilfully took advantage of every favourable circum- 
 stance that presented itself, and Avas fertile in his resources for the creation of 
 circumstances, when they did not occur. It was by this multifarious exercise 
 of his genius that lie preserved his array from the sword of an enemy over- 
 whelming in force, and achieved the freedom and independence of his country. 
 Such was the immature condition of the materials wliich composed liis army, 
 and such, in general, its numerical inferiority to that to which he was op- 
 posed, tliat had he acted otherwise his cause would have been lost. 
 
 Thus it appears that, under Providence, he was himself, in a very 
 signal degree, the source of his own fortune and glory in war. Others have 
 been successful tiirough physical force ; he was victorious by means of his 
 moral and intellectual greatness. We are struck with astonishment at the 
 intrepid hardihood, not to call it rashness, of Alexander, forcing his Avay 
 through the reddened waters of the Granicus, or storming alone the ram- 
 parts of Oxydrace, and of Bonaparte, leading, in a paroxysm of military 
 phrenzy, his recoiling columns across the bridge of Arcolai ; and, in each 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 97 
 
 instance, attribute tlie success of the enterprise to the fortune of war : but 
 veneration mingles itself Avith wonder, and admiration with love, when we 
 behold Washington at the head of his suffering patriotic army, advancing 
 on the enemy, retreating, or maintaining his position, not from the impulse 
 of any mere animal motive, but pursuant to the decision of a great practical 
 military judgment; and, next to the favouring hand of Heaven, ascribe his 
 victories to his own genius. 
 
 As far then as intellectual and moral rises superior to physical great- 
 ness, such is the ascendency of the American leader over the leaders of 
 France and Macedon. 
 
 Although the spring of 178I did not open on Washington with flattering 
 prospects, his affairs became more promising in the course of the campaign. 
 From the condition of his own army being in some respects meliorated, and 
 the co-operation of the sea and land forces of France, means Mere afforded 
 him for action and enterprise. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis, having penetrated from the south Mith an army be- 
 tween eight and ten thousand strong, had taken possession of Yorktown in 
 the state of Virginia. Count De Grasse, the French admiral, enterins the 
 Chesapeake with a powerful fleet, made such a judicious arrangement of it 
 that the royal forces could neither escape nor receive any succour by water. 
 In the mean time general Washington, at the head of a combined American 
 and French army, amounting in the aggregate to about sixteen thousand, 
 marching from Williamsburgh, proceeded to invest the enemy's position. 
 The siege commenced on the 28th of September, and continued until the 
 19th of October, when the British forces were compelled to surrender 
 themselves prisoners of war. In the course of it the advances made by the 
 besiegers were directed with great judgment and skill; and many enter- 
 
 VOL. I. B b 
 
98 LirE OP WASHINGTON. 
 
 prises of chivali-ous valour Mere planned and executed. This was particu^ 
 iarly the case in relation to the storming of two redoubts, on the left of the 
 enemy, by which the opei-ations of the combined forces had been greatly 
 retarded. Arrangements for the adventure being made, the troops, under 
 the direction of their gallant leaders, rushed to the assault with unloaded 
 muskets, and were instantly in possession of the Avorks and their defenders. 
 To awaken, on the occasion, a high spirit of national emulation, the reduc- 
 tion of one of the redoubts was entrusted to the French and that of the 
 other to the American soldiery. In justice to the latter it must be added, 
 that their enterprise was conducted in the finest style, and completed first by 
 several minutes. 
 
 The capture of Lord Cornwallis was the last distinguished achievemcni 
 in arms in which general Washington was personally concerned. That 
 event convincing the British ministry that a further prosecution of the war 
 would be productive of nothing but an unavailing waste of treasure and blood, 
 operated as a certain harbinger of peace. It induced them, therefore, to 
 proffer the olive branch in a temper of sincerity, and on principles of justice. 
 The offer being accepted, the American forces were soon to be disbanded. 
 
 The conjuncture was critical and not without danger. The country Avas 
 deeply in arrears to those, who, through fatigue and danger, suffering and 
 blood, had gallantly achieved her liberties and independence. Throughout 
 every department of the ai'my embers of discontent had been already strewn, 
 and efforts were now made, insidious and forcible, to fan them into a fiame. 
 
 To counteract the wiles and measures of unprincipled incendiaries, who 
 were darkly plotting the ruin of their country, all the vigilance, Avisdom, 
 and personal infinence of Washington were ])laced in requisition. Having, 
 in the end, triumphed over these, as he had already done over his adversa- 
 
LIFE OF AVASHINGTON". 99 
 
 ries in the field, it only remained for him to return his commission into the 
 hands that had bestowed it, and, retiring to private life, bear along with 
 him, under the shades of peace, the same pre-eminence that had already 
 distinguished him in the ranks of war — to be first and most beloved in the 
 fonner situation, as he had proved himself foremost and greatest in the 
 latter. 
 
 Having taken a most solemn and affecting leave of his companions in 
 arms, he proceeded to Annapolis, where congress was in session. Here, 
 with no less solemnity, and in a manner equally aifecting, he took leave 
 also of them, after surrendering into the hands of their president Ms com- 
 mission which he had born during eight years of solicitude and peril, exer- 
 tion and glory. He noAV withdrew, a private citizen, to his seat on the 
 banks of the Potowmac, accompanied by the tears and affections, tlie 
 gratitude and blessings of a liberated country, and a splendour surpassing 
 Avhat royalty could bestow. 
 
 Free from ambition, as it is usually understood, and perfectly happy iu 
 his domestic establishment, it was his wish and resolution never again to 
 mingle in the cares or encounter the toils of public life. 
 
 But the condition of his country, over whose interests he could not yet 
 cease to lie watchful, and whose call he liad never heretofore failed to obey, 
 forbade the indulgence of his predilection for retirement. To deliberate on 
 a suitable form of government a general convention of the states was assem- 
 bled. Of this he was a member, and, by an unanimous vote of his col- 
 leagues, was appointed its president. The result of the deliberations of 
 this body was the federal constitution. 
 
 On the ado[)tion of that instrument, he was, without a dissenting voice 
 in the nation, elected president of the United States. This call of his 
 
100 LIFE OP WASHINGTON. 
 
 country he obeyed with great reluctance ; but a sense of duty compelled him 
 to acquiesce. 
 
 His elevation to the first magistracy of the union was productive at once 
 of universal joy, and reviving hope. Under the administration of Wash- 
 ington but few ventured to doubt of the success of the constitution. It was 
 believed that he who had once saved the union from foreign enemies, could 
 preserve it now from bankruptcy and dissolution. 
 
 On his journey to the seat of government he was every where saluted 
 with honours and distinctions wortliy of the father and protector of his 
 country. Triumphal arches were erected to receive him, crowns of laurel 
 woven and dextrously dropt by machinery on his head, the costliest banquets 
 prepared to regale him, flowers strewn in his way by the hands of innocence 
 and beautv, and odes composed and chaunted in honour of his late heroic ex- 
 ploits. In cities and towns and villages, the streets, and even in the country 
 the road itself was so crowded with spectators anxious to behold him, that 
 it was sometimes with difficulty he could proceed on his route. The scene 
 was indescribably moving and delightful. It was the jubilee of patriotism, 
 gratitude, and affection — the spontaneous and heartfelt homage of a liberated 
 and virtuous people to their benefactor and deliverer. Monarchs are re- 
 ceived with smiles and applauses, and all the exterior marks of approbation, 
 from motives of interest to secure their favour, or to avert their resentment, 
 because they are dreaded : Washington experienced a similar reception only 
 because he was venerated and beloved. 
 
 Having been, with due solemnities, inducted into the office he had been 
 invited to fill, he entered, without delay, on the arduous and exalted duties 
 which it imposed. Of the wisdom and ability with which these duties were 
 discharged, the happy and glorious result of his administration can best 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 101 
 
 testify. In every walk and occupation of life, industry felt his resuscitating 
 touch. The body civil as well as the body politic — the mass of society, in 
 all its departments, seemed to revive as from a temporary death. Commerce 
 availed herself of every gale to spread her canvass over the remotest seas. 
 Agriculture stept abroad in renovated strength, clothed in all tlie abundance 
 of the earth. In every corner the hum of the arts was distinctly heard j 
 and learning and science began to raise their drooping heads. 
 
 1 he Indian tribes that had been engaged in hostilities against our fron- 
 tier inhabitants were subdued or conciliated; our difficulties with foreign 
 nations were honourably adjusted ; public credit was completely restored ; 
 treaties of amity and commerce were formed on just and advantageous 
 terms ; and the country was peaceful, prosperous and happy. 
 
 To particularize the acts that were instrumental in shedding such a lustre 
 on the administration of Washington would, at present, be impracticable. 
 Space cannot be allowed us for a statement so extensive. The administra- 
 tion, as a system, was founded in justice, organized by wisdom, directed by 
 virtue, and guarded by honour. Abroad, therefore, it could not fail to 
 command respect, nor to be productive of extensive utility at home. It was 
 a spectacle in political ethicks worthy to fix the attention and excite the 
 admiration of the rulers of nations. Ministers might be instructed by it in 
 the art of governing, and monarchs learn how to give splendour and stability 
 to thrones. For the liberality of its visws, the soundness of its principles', 
 the coiTectness of its details, and tlie dignified grandeur and firmness of its 
 march, it was a chef d'ceuvre of human achievement. 
 
 On the expiration of his second term of office, Washington, although 
 perfectly assured of success, declined a third election to the presidency. 
 
 VOL. r. c c 
 
102 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Feeling somewhat of the weight, yet not much of the weakness or infirmi- 
 ties of years, and weary of the bustle and toil and ostentation of state, he 
 again withdrew to the shades of private life, with an increase of resolution 
 to abandon them no more. 
 
 But his was the resolution of reason and judgment, enlightened and 
 correct at the time, yet flexible in its nature, and open to be altered by the 
 force of events. Nor was it long till an event occurred sufficiently momen- 
 tous to effect an alteration. 
 
 In the year 1798 an army was raised to repel an invasion that was 
 threatened by France. Of this he was invited to the command in chief. In 
 addition to the official call of the executive, complimentary in its nature, and 
 peculiarly flattering from the manner in which it was made, the voice of Ms 
 country pressed his acceptance with a force of argument and a fervour of 
 importunity which he was unable to i-esist. He accordingly consented to 
 clothe himself once more in armour, and repair to tlie field, should the 
 enemy have the hardihood to make his appearance. In this it must be 
 perceived that the sacrifice which he contemplated was altogether incalcu- 
 lable. He was not only to do violence to a favourite predilection of his 
 heart, and to exchange for toils and personal danger tliat security and repose 
 which were essential to the comfort of his declining years, but to stake on 
 the uncertain issue of a new militai-y career, the richest and fairest mouu- 
 Hent of glory that had ever '^f^"" "..—foji i)y tjjg exertions of an individual. 
 The harvest of laurels and iplendent civic honours collected by 
 
 the atjiievements and laboi ly half a century, were to be risked 
 
 on the t^te of a single car ^rhaps a single battle : for who does 
 
 not know tkat a solitary dis ften obliterates from the public mind 
 
 the remembrance of the rao and illustrious career of success ! 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 103 
 
 But an event was at hand which, by separating the glory of Washington 
 from all that was perishable in his nature, placed it beyond the power of 
 fate to tarnish it. 
 
 After a day of much activity in superintending some improvements lie 
 was introducing on his estate, he was attacked Avith an inflammatory affec- 
 tion of the throat, on the night of the 13th of Deceml)er 1799. So stubborn 
 was tliis disease, and, at the same time, so violent in its character and rapid 
 in its progress, that, notwithstanding all the resistance that medicine could 
 make, it terminated fatally on the night following. 
 
 The death-scene of this truly illustrious man was such as might be 
 expected from all that had preceded it — unmarked by ought of weakness ov 
 timidity, impatience or complaint. All was collected and manly, serene 
 and tranquil, dignified and resigned. Finding of no avail the remedies 
 which had been unremittingly employed for his relief, and convinced that 
 his dissolution was fast approaching, he requested of those around him 
 permission to die without further interruption. He then undressed himself, 
 went calmly to bed, placed himself in a suitable attitude, closed his eyes 
 with his own hand, and soon afterwards expired without a struggle. 
 
 The melancholy event, which was in a short time announced in every 
 section of the country, produced a shock more severe and extensive than 
 had ever, perhaps, been experienced from the death of a mortal. Six 
 millions of people were penetrated with sincere and afflicting sorrow. Never 
 M'ere the ashes of an individual watered by so copious an effusion of fears; 
 for the sorrow was such as touches the heart — it was that of a family sud- 
 denly bereft of the best of parents ; for he had long been regarded as the 
 father of his country. 
 
104 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 When the national legislature, which was sitting in Philadelphia, re- 
 ceived intelligence of the mournful dispensation, it immediately adjourned, 
 being rendered by the event incapable of attending to its ordinary business. 
 All the public offices were closed, and many of the citizens shut up their 
 houses, as if death had depinved them of the nearest relative. 
 
 A few days afterwards, a vast and solemn funereal procession, composed 
 of the officers of government, the mem1)ers of the legislatui-e, foreigners of 
 distinction, and the citizens of Philadelphia, moved from the vStatc-House to 
 a church in the city, where, after divine service had been performed, an 
 eulogy was pronounced commemorative of the virtues and services of the 
 deceased. 
 
 This was but the commencement of the honours that were publicly paid 
 to the memory of Washington. In other places similar processions were 
 formed, funeral sermons were preached, eulogies delivered, and elegies 
 written, until the whole population of the country appeared to unite in 
 one general anthem in honour of him who Avas aptly declared to be, 
 •' first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens." 
 Nor were the tributes on this occasion confined to America. Some of the 
 ablest pens and most eloquent tongues in Europe were exerted in portraying 
 the '' Man of the Age." 
 
 Although he had no pretension to the character of a man of letters — an 
 attainment totally incompatible with his mode of life — we may, notwith- 
 standing, add to his many high and rare qualifications, that of an able and 
 elegant writer. Besides being rich in matter and weighty in argument, his 
 productions are clothed, for the most part, in chaste, perspicuous and forcible 
 language. The style of his letters is excellent : his communications to con- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 105 
 
 gress, but more especially his addresses to the army, exhi1)it specimens of 
 eloquence as manly and dignified as any that are to be found in the English 
 language : while, for matter and manner, style and arrangement, his well 
 known valedictory address to the people of the United States, would do 
 credit to the most distinguished writer of the age. Considering that his 
 early education was but limited, and that his life was spent amidst the toils of 
 a camp, and the tumult of public business, liis literary attainments were truly 
 wonderful — such as no other man has ever, perhaps, exhibited under similar 
 circumstances. In this respect, nature would seem to have bestowed on 
 him, by her own bounty, what others acquire by a life time of study. 
 
 Thus far of the intellect and achievements, the life and death of Wash- 
 ington. His appearance was strongly indicative of his character. It exhibited 
 the most striking representation of gi-eatness and majesty, that we have 
 ever seen attached to the person of a mortal. It is impossible to give in 
 words an adequate idea of his figure and aspect. We can only say that 
 they were awfully grand. No one could approach him without experiencing 
 this sentiment, and feeling that he was in the presence of the greatest of 
 men. In stature he Was upwards of six feet, in his form muscular and 
 well proportioned, exhibiting the appearance of unusual strength, and in 
 all his movements easy and graceful. The lineaments of his face, Avhich 
 were on the Grecian rather than the Roman model, although never to be 
 entirely forgotten by those who had once seen them, were almost lost to tlie 
 beholder while examining them, in the impress of his spirit and the expres- 
 sion of his intellect. 
 
 Tiie pencil and the chisel have vied with each other in a laudable 
 attempt to perpetuate his likeness. But the project has fiiiled. Although 
 
 VOL. I. D d 
 
106 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a distinguished statuary and tlie aldest portrait painter of the age have 
 patiently exercised their genius in the trial, Washington has never been 
 correctly delineated. His likeness was concentered in himself alone, and 
 those who have never beheld it there, will search for it in vain on canvass 
 or in marble. He was, in the true sense of the term, an original, but no 
 model for correct imitation. He never himself copied any one ; nor has any 
 artist been able to copy him. 
 
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