supplied him amply with port wine, considered essential to prevent the spasms that threatened his life-tendered the restoration of the horses recently impressed from his family at Fort Motte --and urged with the generous spirit of a soldier, the free and unlimited use of his purse. I could pardon him a thousand errors for this emanation of generous sympathy. Such attentions were received with the gratitude they were well calculated to excite. The sincerest acknowledgments were expressed for all-though neither the horses nor purse were accepted. This gave an opportunity to M'Kenzie to display a trait of chivalric gallantry that cannot be too much admired. "Give me his charger, then;" he feelingly exclaimed, "it shall never be said, that the horse that carried Tom Pinckney, was ever employed against the friends and the cause that were dear to him."-Garden.

ROGER SHERMAN.

an

In 1754, Mr. Sherman was admitted as attorney to the bar. It is a trite remark, that great effects often proceed from small causes, and that not unfrequently some apparently trivial occurrence, exercises a controlling influence over the whole after life of an individual. Both these remarks are eminently verified in the history of Mr. Sherman. While yet a young man, and, it is believed, before he had relinquished his mechanical occupation, he had occasion to go to a neighboring town to transact some business for himself. A short time previous to this, a neighbor of his, in settling the affairs of a person deceased, became involved in a difficulty which required the assistance of legal counsel. The neighbor stated the case to young Sherman, and authorized him to seek the advice of the lawyer of the town to which he was going.

As the subject was not without intricacy, Sherman committed the case to paper, and on his arrival in the town, proceeded with his manuscript to the lawyer's office. In stating the case to the lawyer, he had frequent occasion to recur to his manuscript. This was noticed by the lawyer, and, as it was necessary to present a petition in the case to some court, Sherman was requested to leave the paper, as an assistance in framing the petition. The modesty of young Sherman would scarcely permit him to comply with this request. "The paper," he said, " was only a memorandum drawn by himself to assist his memory." He gave it, however, into the hands of the lawyer, who read it with surprise. He found it to contain a clear statement of the case, and remarked, that with some slight verbal alterations, it would be equal to any petition which he himself could draft.

The conversation now passed to the situation and circumstances of young Sherman. The lawyer urged him seriously to think upon the profession of law. At this time, he was deeply involved in the care of his father's family, which, as before noticed, were left in a great measure destitute at his decease. The suggestion, however, appears not to have been lost upon him.

A new direction was given to his thoughts. A stronger impulse was added to his energies. His leisure hours were devoted to the acquisition of legal knowledge, and in 1754, as already remarked, he entered upon a professional career, in which few have attained to greater honor and distinction.

GENERAL THOMAS PINCKNEY.

At the disastrous battle of Camden, while acting as Aid-de-Camp to General Gates, he was desperately wounded and made a prisoner. His patience and fortitude remained unshaken. Conveyed into the town, it was night when he reached Mrs. Clay's house (then by the fiat of power, converted into a Hospital). The family had retired, and Major Pinckney was placed on a table in the piazza, where he lay till morning, suffering under a compound fracture of both bones of his leg, as he would not permit the rest of an oppressed and patriotic female to be disturbed. This calm and happy temper of mind, contributed in no small degree to the preservation of his life, for an exfoliation of the broken bones following soon after his removal to quarters, and no surgical aid at hand, he was obliged to direct the dressing of his wound, and to point out to his anxious and intrepid wife, the splinters that occasioned the greatest agony, while with tenderness she removed them. The trial was, indeed, a severe one, to a lady of uncommon sensibility; but there is no exertion to which the female heart, under the influence of its affections, is not equal. The duty performed, the fortitude of Mrs. Pinckney was no more; her emotion, on seeing her husband's sufferings, so totally overpowered her, that she fainted and fell. The recollection of such tender and heroic conduct cannot be lost: it must ever command the admiration of the world, and to her sex, afford a fascinating example for imitation.

GENERAL C. C. PICKNEY.

In 1794, his firm opposition to the arrogance of the French Directory, demanding tribute as the price of peace, obtained for him the universal applause of his country; nor can it be forgotten, while the hallowed standard, raised at the construction of the lines for the defence of Charleston, on the Pinckney redoubt, proclaims the cherished sentiment of America"Millions for defence, but not a cent for tribute."

Another trait of character, exhibited at a later period, I cannot withold from view. An officer of rank, talent, and distinguished military services, having been nominated in 1794, to a command inferior to General Hamilton's, indignantly exclaimed-" Though my salvation depended on it, I would spurn the commission, rather than serve under a man whom I had once commanded." When General C. C. Pinckney, on his return from France, was informed that General Hamilton, his junior in rank, had been placed above him, by the nomination of General

Washington, in the true spirit of patriotism, he replied "I am confident that the Commander in Chief had sufficient reasons for this preference. Let us first dispose of our enemies-we shall then have leisure to settle the question of rank."

It is a due tribute to the disinterestedness that I venerate, that I record one other occurence of peculiar interest. It is a fact well understood, that at the period of the struggle of party, relative to the nomination of a President of the United States, in the year 1800, that General C. C. Pinckney, by consenting to unite his name with that of Mr. Jefferson, would have secured to himself the unanimous vote of the electors of South Carolina. But, consistent with his decided principles, such an association could not be entered into; and to relinquish them, satisfied as he was of their purity and correctness, with a view to self-aggrandize- || ment, would have evinced a duplicity altogether repulsive to his nature. The scheme of union was, accordingly, dropped. The contest took place, and the dignity aspired to was obtained by Mr. Jefferson. The Ex-President Adams, writing to General Gadsden on the occasion, thus expresses himself "I have been well informed of the frank, candid, and honorable conduct of General C. C. Pinckney at your State Election, which was conformable to the whole tenor of his actions through life, as far as they have come to my knowledge."

BENEDICT ARNOLD.

That treachery creates its own punishment, and, to the detestation of the world, adds the inward agony" that passeth show," is strikingly exemplified in the history of the apostate Arnold. What were the results of his desertion? The fair fame acquired by his early exertions, as a patriot soldier, was blasted. Children that had learnt to lisp his deeds of gallantry, now shuddered with abhorrence at his name. Execrated

A cloud

by his former friends, despised by his new associates, proscribed by his country, reluctantly obeyed, and by the meanest sentinel held in supreme contempt, his life was a constant scene of apprehension, misery, and remorse. hung over his fortunes that shaded his countenance with the gloom of despair, and betrayed the increasing agonies of his guilty heart. That such was the state of his mind is clear, from his anxiety to learn from others, what they supposed his fate would be, should he fall into the hands of his countrymen. While commanding the predatory expedition on the shores of Virginia, a service peculiarly suited to his character, it is stated, that on one occasion, when some danger appeared of his being taken, he asked an officer near him, "What treatment think you, Sir, am I to look for should the rebels make me their prisoner." "I have no doubt," replied the officer, "though my frankness may offend, but that they will cut off the leg that was wounded in storming the British lines at Saratoga, and bury it with the honors of war, but having no

respect for the rest of your body, they will gib bet it." The contempt that followed him through life, is further illustrated by the speech of the present Lord Lauderdale, who, perceiving Arnold on the right hand of the King, and near his person, as he addressed his Parliament, declared, on his return to the Commons, "that however gracious the language he had heard from the throne, his indignation could not but be highly excited, beholding, as he had done, his Majesty supported by a traitor." And on another occasion, Lord Surry, since Duke of Norfolk, rising to speak in the House of Commons, and perceiving Arnold in the gallery, sat down with precipitation, exclaiming, "I will not speak while that man (pointing to him) is in the House." I myself witnessed a remarkably strong proof of it. Sitting in a Coffee-house at Cowes, in 1792, with a British officer of high distinction, he purposely turned the conversation on the blessings of the Americans, declaring with earnestness, that he believed them happier, and more to be envied than any people in the world. A stranger who sat near, and who appeared intent on these encomiums, rose hastily and left the room, when my companion said, "I perceive that you are unacquainted with the traitor, once the pride of your army; the man who has just retired is Benedict Arnold. The language which I used must have appeared extravagant. I spoke of America with enthusiasm, to make him feel his degradation, as no one, in my opinion, so highly merits execration."

It must ever be lamented, that while so generous and high-spirited a soldier as André paid the penalty of the treason, the traitor should live to enjoy pecuniary recompense and command. I cannot say honor, for from the moment of his apostacy, he sunk into the most profound abyss of infamy. The very services required of him, showed the opinion of the Commander in Chief What was the object in Virginia? Plunder. What at New-London? Destruction. He was an adept at both, and failed not to add to the black catalogue of his former atrocities. To finish the climax of iniquity, as if insensible to the results contemplated by his treason, the destruction of the liberties of his country, and of the friends who had fought by his side, he has presumed to say,-"That as Major André came within the American posts at his request, be ought also, under the same sanction, to have been allowed to return in safety." In other words; after having obtained every possible information as to our strength and resources, and having learnt the points at which West Point was most assailable, that he should have been allowed to communicate all this to an active enemy, prepared to take advantage of it. Such is his reasoning. He then proceeds to threats. "I have further to observe, that forty gentlemen, inhabitants of South-Carolina, have justly forfeited their lives, which have hitherto been spared, through the clemency of his Excellency Sir Henry Clinton, who cannot, with propriety, extend his mercy to them any longer, if Major André suffers, which will open a scene

of blood at which humanity will revolt." It is well known that the falsity of the accusation against these patriotic citizens was so gross, that the British never attempted to support it Had but a shadow of reason appeared to countenance it, there is no doubt but that severity would have been pushed to its utmost limit. Garden.

MAJOR ANDRE.

entering his Counting-House, he received the welcome intelligence, that a ship which he had despaired of, had, at that moment. arrived at the wharf, with a full cargo of all the munitions of war, and of soldiers' clothing. He returned to Congress almost breathless with joy, and announced the exhilarating good news. Nor did propitious fortune end here. Accidentally meeting with a worthy Quaker, who had wealth at command, and a hearty well-wisher to the American cause, although from his religious principles averse to war and fighting, he thought it no departure from the strict line of propriety, to endeavor, by every exertion, to awaken his sym

But the point of his irony seemed particularly aimed at Wayne, whose entire baggage, he asserts, was taken, containing

"His Congress dollars, and his prog,
His military speeches:

His cornstalk whiskey for his grog,

Black stockings and blue breeches."

And concludes by observing, that it is necessary to check the current of satire,

"Lest the same warrio-drover Wayne,
Should catch-and hang the Poet."

He was actually taken by a party from the division of the army immediately under the command of Wayne.-Garden.

PROVIDENTIAL SUPPLY.

At the most distressful period of the war, General Washington wrote to Congress, "That he was surrounded by secret foes, destitute of the means of detecting them, or of getting intelligence of the enemy's movements and designs. The army was in rags, had few or no blankets, and military stores were in the dregs. The troops reduced in numbers, must retreat, without the means of defence if attacked, and would probably disperse from the want of subsistence and clothing in an inclement season, too severe for nature to support. In a word, we have lived upon expedients till we can live no longer; and it may truly be said, that the history of this war, is a history of false hopes and temporary devices, instead of system and economy, which results from it." All business was, in consequence, suspended in Congress, and dismay was universal, since no supplies of the requisitions demanded could be provided.

Mr. Robert Morris, to whom the United States is more indebted for their prosperity and happiness, than to any other individual, with the exception of General Washington, overcome by his feelings, quitted the Hall with a mind completely depressed, without a present hope, or cheering expectation of future prosperity. On

therefore, an expression of countenance indicative of the most poignant anguish and deep despair, he was passing him in silence, when the benevolent Quaker, who had critically observed him, and marked the agitation of his mind, feelingly said, "Robert, I fear there is bad news. The reply was, "Yes, very bad; I am under the most helpless embarrassment for the want of some hard money." "How much would relieve thy difficulties, Robert?" The sum was mentioned. "But I could only give my private engagement in a note, which I would sacredly pledge my honor to repay," rejoined Mr. Morris. "Cease thy sorrows, then, Robert; thou shalt have the money in confidence of thy silence on the subject, as it regards me." The specie was procured, immediately remitted to General Washington, and saved the army.

I should find no difficulty in producing many other, and equally satisfactory proofs of the opinion advanced, but shall content myself with asking-Is it possible, that so many occurrences should be considered as casualties depending altogether on chance? Do they not rather appear as the orderings of the beneficent Ruler of the Universe, extending his protecting arm over a people whom he cherished, and checking the wild and inordinate ambition of the oppressor? It is the light in which it ought to be viewed, that the gratitude of the nation should be proportioned to the blessings bestowed on it, and that the pride of success restrained within just limits, nor overstepping the bounds of moderation, the victors in the contest may, with humility, exclaim, "Not unto us, but unto the powerful protection of an all-wise and beneficent God, are such providential escapes and unexampled successes to be attributed."— Garden.

CHARACTER OF ROGER SHERMAN.

In estimating the character of Mr. Sherman, we must dwell a moment upon his practical wisdom. This, in him, was a predominant trait. He possessed, more than most men, an intimate acquaintance with human nature. He understood the springs of human action in a remarkable degree, and well knew in what manner to touch them, to produce a designed effect. This practical wisdom, another name for common sense, powerfully contributed to guide him to

safe results, on all the great political questions in which he was concerned; and assisted him to select the means which were best adapted to accomplish the best ends. With the habits and opinions, with the virtues and vices, the prejudices and weaknesses of his countrymen, he was also well acquainted. Hence, he understood, better than many others, who were superior to him in the rapidity of their genius, what laws and principles they would bear, and what they would not bear, in government. Of the practical wisdom of Mr. Sherman, we might furnish many honorable testimonies and numerous illustrations. We must content ourselves, however, with recording a remark of President Jefferson, to the late Dr. Spring, of Newburyport. During the sitting of Congress at Philadelphia, the latter gentleman, in company with Mr. Jefferson, visited the national hall. Mr. Jefferson pointed out to the doctor several of the members, who were most conspicuous. At length, his eye rested upon Roger Sherman. "That," said he, pointing his finger," is Mr. Sherman, of Connecticut, a man who never said a foolish thing in his life." Not less complimentary was the remark of Mr. Macon, the aged and distinguished senator, who has recently retired from public life: "Roger Sherman had more common sense than any man I ever knew."

Another distinguishing trait in the character of Roger Sherman, was his unbending integrity. No man, probably, ever stood more aloof from the suspicion of a selfish bias, or of sinister motives. In both his public and private conduct, he was actuated by principle. The opinion which appeared correct, he adopted, and the measure which appeared the best, he pursued, apparently uninfluenced by passion, prejudice, or interest. It was probably owing to this trait in his character, that he enjoyed such extraordinary influence in those deliberative bodies of which he was a member. In his speech, he was slow and hesitating. He had few of the graces of oratory; yet no man was heard with deeper attention. This attention arose from the solid conviction of the hearers, that he was an honest man. What he said, was indeed always applicable to the point, was clear, was weighty; and, as the late President Dwight remarked, was generally new and important. Yet the weight of his observations, obviously, sprung from the integrity of the man. It was this trait in his character, which elicited the observation of the distinguished Fisher Ames. "If I am absent," said he, "during the discussion of a subject, and consequently know not on which side to vote, I always look at Roger Sherman, for I am sure if I vote with him I shall vote right."

the bible; few men studied it with deeper atten. tion; few were more intimately acquainted with the doctrines of the gospel, and the metaphysical controversies of the day. On these subjects, he maintained an extended correspondence with some of the most distinguished divines of that period, among whom were Dr. Edwards, Dr. Hopkins, Dr. Trumbull, President Dickenson, and President Witherspoon, all of whom had a high opinion of him as a theologian, and derived much instruction from their correspondence with him.

If the character of a man's religion is to be tested by the fruits it produces, the religion of Mr. Sherman must be admitted to have been not of this world. He was naturally possessed of strong passions; but over these he at length obtained an extraordinary control. He became habitually calm, sedate, and self-possessed. The following instance of his self-possession is worthy of being recorded.

Mr. Sherman was one of those men who are not ashamed to maintain the forms of religion in his family. One morning he called them together, as usual, to lead them in prayer to God: the "old family bible" was brought out, and laid on the table. Mr. Sherman took his seat, and beside him placed one of his children, a small child, a child of his old age; the rest of the family were seated round the room; several of these were now grown up. Besides these, some of the tutors of the college, and it is believed, some of the students, were boarders in the family, and were present at the time alluded to. His aged, and now superannuated mother, occupied a corner of the room, opposite to the place where the distinguished Judge of Connecticut At length he opened the bible, and began to read. The child which was seated beside him made some little disturbance, upon which Mr. Sherman paused, and told it to be still. Again he proceeded, but again he paused, to reprimand the little offender, whose playful dispo. sition would scarcely permit it to be still. At this time, he gently tapped its ear. The blow, if it might be called a blow, caught the attention of his aged mother, who now with some effort rose from her seat, and tottered across the room. At length, she reached the chair of Mr. Sherman, and in a moment most unexpected to him, she gave him a blow on the ear, with all the power she could summon. "There," said she, “ you strike your child, and I will strike mine.”

sat.

Per

For a moment, the blood was seen rushing to the face of Mr. Sherman; but it was only for a moment, when all was as mild and calm as usual. He paused he raised his spectacles-he cast his eye upon his mother-again it fell upon the book, from which he had been reading. haps he remembered the injunction, “honor thy mother," and he did honor her. Not a word escaped him; but again he calmly pursued the service, and soon after sought in prayer ability to set an example before his household, which should be worthy their imitation. Such selfpossession is rare. Such a victory was worth more than the proudest victory ever achieved in