1. Disgusted with the oppressions of the old world, he liked no better the slavery of the new. While Philadelphia was yet the seat of government, a Senator from the South, a republican nobleman, took an elegant residence in Fourth street, directly opposite to Mr. Patterson's house. Just before the close of the session of Congress, his five slaves decamped, in a body; and the most diligent search could not discover their retreat. Nevertheless, they were almost within call; some negro families, in an alley just across the way, had them secreted and provided for. The fact came to Mr. P.'s knowledge, and he took a good deal of interest in having them scattered, and put out of reach. One of them was sent to my father, at Deep Run. There were other instances in which Mr. P., as a member of a charitable society for that purpose, relieved fugitive slaves, and re-captured Africans. But I must leave to tradition the stories of the ship Ganges, and the flight of the Maryland girl;* and only add, that he died before the spirit of anti-slavery had assumed its disorganizing form, and that, in the present and technical sense, we may be sure he was not an abolitionist.

The law of kindness is apt to show its workings in little things. The poorer class of hucksters, who sit at the corners with the smallest imaginable stock in trade, were observed with compassion (perhaps sometimes misplaced), in his daily walks. To one of them, stationed near his house in Cherry street, he used to send a dish of soup from his dinner-table; an apple-woman, at one of the corners of Market street, was bought out, day after day; and a comfortless seat of two bricks, was superseded by a wooden stool. We mention these minutiæ, simply because they are such. It is one thing to give alms; it is something more to consider the poor.

2. His indifference, or rather repugnance, to public distinction, was an undoubted and marked characteristic. It is a rule in the Philosophical Society, that when its presiding officer dies, a public eulogium shall be pronounced by a member designated to that duty; and the discourse is usually printed and circulated. Un

* I thought this would hardly be complete as a family book, without mention of Caroline and Patience.

willing to accept the presidency on any terms, he consented only upon condition that in his case, the eulogy should be omitted. The engagement seems to have been understood in a Hibernian sense; good faith was kept during his life-time, but very soon after his decease, a delicate evasion of the agreement appeared in an extended "Obituary Notice," written by his successor, and published in a volume of the Society's Transactions. It is said that he seemed purposely to avoid the mention of his own history; and the suspicion may be entertained, that his military journal was put out of the way, lest it might be turned into material by some one who would "attempt his life." The modest purpose has been secured. Many an instructive and entertaining memoir, and of good size too, has been constructed from materials not more rich and various than his story would have afforded.

The third incident or illustration promised, was to show his Christian consistency and firmness. The celebrated Dr. Wistar, his predecessor as President of the Society just spoken of, was accustomed to invite to his house, on a stated evening every week, some of the more eminent literary and scientific characters, both of the city and from abroad. The party was unostentatious, social, and highly intellectual; it was such a recreation as Dr. Patterson would naturally have chosen; and yet it was observed, that he did not respond to the invitations. After a time, the polite host ventured to inquire the reason. It was frankly given. The parties assembled on Sunday evening; a time consecrated, in his belief, to religious devotion, as a part of the Christian Sabbath. The result was one worthy of Dr. Wistar's courtesy, and a proof of the estimation in which his friend was held; namely, an immediate and permanent change of the evening party from Sunday to Saturday.

But the politeness of the one, is not more observable than the firmness of the other, in standing up, alone, to maintain what was then an unpopular, at least an unphilosophical, restriction in morals; in our own day apparently more respected.*

* After Dr. Wistar's death (1818,) a number of gentlemen united in an association for maintaining the "Wistar Party," which assembly has been kept up ever since; though on a different scale from that of the founder.

Though Dr. Patterson was of a robust constitution, he was not exempted from some serious inroads of disease. A constitutional malady, with him, was an agonizing cramp-colic; in the paroxysms of which he would roll on the floor, and only find relief in fainting. On two occasions he was on the brink of the grave, and those in comparatively early life. The first of these attacks was from a typhus fever, which occurred soon after his son Robert was born (1787); in this he lay a long time, not expected to survive. The other happened six years after; but on account of its attendant circumstances, investing it with a peculiar interest, we shall venture a detailed account. (Our genealogical tree should bear the intertwining of some episodes.)

In the summer of 1793, the two eldest girls, Mary and Martha, had gone to pay a visit to their uncle Ewing, at Trenton; not knowing that they were taken away from the evil to come. The rest of the family were in the city; two parents, four children; these latter from three to eleven years old. They were living in Fourth street below Spruce, in those times pretty far westward from the river. It was a strangely oppressive summer; a long drought was attended by a stagnant, breathless atmosphere, under which labourers gave out, even when the thermometer was no higher than 84 degrees.

About the middle of August, three of the principal physicians, coming out of a sick chamber in Water street, where they had been in consultation, found upon interchange of remark, each as to his own practice, that an unusual and malignant fever must be in

"Mrs. Wistar informed the writer, that in 1811, Saturday night was substi tuted for the Sunday evening assemblies. Invitations were then more frequently and freely given, and the refreshments, though always simple, became uniform. The Sunday parties were regaled with cakes and wine. To these were added, for the Saturday meetings, raisins and almonds, varied by domestic fruits and ice-creams. A table was seldom spread. The number of guests varied from ten to fifty, but usually between fifteen and twentyfive." (From a pamphlet "Sketch of the Wistar Party," 1846.) Tempora mutantur. Crowded saloons, elegant entertainments; company not rigidly scientific, though polite and dignified; rooms full by nine; supper at ten; then a speedy and general excunt. The parties are given every Saturday evening through the winter.

D

the town. Further investigation discovered one of the wharves, and the adjoining dock, between Arch and Race streets, to be in the foulest condition from a deposit of coffee in a putrifying state. Later in the same month, the fact, in spite of all unbelief, contention, and ridicule, was fully established; and announced by the proper authorities. From that time, for many weeks, the city was in such a condition, as has made '93 a most memorable year in its history. We have dwelt upon the distresses of the Siege of Derry; that was a falling into the hands of man, this into the hands of God; and we cannot say the choice was with the latter.

"The disease (says Dr. Rush*) which was at first confined to Water street, soon spread through the whole city. After the 15th September, the atmosphere of every street in the city was charged with miasmata; and there were few citizens, in apparent good health, who did not exhibit the marks of their presence.

From that date, the disease spared no rank of citizens. Whole families were confined by it. There was a deficiency of nurses and physicians; at one time, only three of the latter were able to do business out of their houses, and at this time there were probably 6000 persons ill with the fever.

During the first three or four weeks, I seldom went into a house without meeting the parents or children in tears. Many wept aloud, in my entry or parlour, who came to ask for advice for their relations. Grief after awhile descended below weeping, and I observed that many submitted to the loss of friends without a tear. A cheerful countenance was scarcely to be seen. I recollect, on entering the house of a poor man, I was strangely affected by the sight of a child of two years old, that smiled in my face. The father and mother of the little creature died, a few days after. I was equally surprised, about the first of October, in seeing a man busily employed laying in wood for the approaching winter. I should as soon have thought of making provision for a dinner in 1800.

The streets every where discovered marks of the distress that pervaded the city. More than one-half the houses were shut up, although not more than one-third the inhabitants had fled into the country. Few persons were met, except such as were in quest of a physician, a nurse, or the men who buried the dead. The hearse alone kept up the remembrance of the noise of carriages.

"Medical Inquiries" of Dr. Benjamin Rush, Phil. 1805; in which is contained a minute, interesting, and of course authentic account, of the ravages of the Yellow Fever. (Vols. III. & IV.) Our extracts are condensed, and not in the order of the original; there was a necessity of taking this liberty. The words are his own.

A black man, leading or driving a horse, with a corpse on a pair of chair-wheels, met the eye at every hour of the day, while the noise of the same wheels, passing slowly over the pavements, kept alive anguish and fear in the sick and well, every hour of the night.

It was some alleviation of the distress, to observe the effects of this mortal epidemic upon the obligations of morality and religion. It was remarked by many, that the name of the Supreme Being was seldom profaned, either in the streets, or in the intercourse of citizens. Although many hundreds of houses were exposed to plunder, but two trifling robberies occurred in nearly two months. Many of the religious societies met two or three times a week, and some of them every evening, to implore the interposition of Heaven. Humanity and charity kept pace with devotion; and it was my lot to witness the uncommon activity of those virtues. Necessity gave rise to an undisciplined set of practitioners, clergymen, apothecaries, and many others, who came forward to supply the places of physicians who were sick or dead.

As for my own state of body and mind; from constant exposure, my body became highly impregnated with miasmata. My eyes were yellow, my pulse quick, and I had profuse sweats every night, so offensive as to oblige me to draw the bed-clothes close to my neck. But I went to bed in conformity to habit only, for it ceased to afford me refreshment. When it was evening, I wished for morning; and when it was morning, the prospect of the labours of the day caused me to wish for the return of evening.

Having found myself unable to comply with the numerous applications that were made to me, I was obliged to refuse many every day. My sister counted 47 in one forenoon before eleven o'clock. In riding through the streets, I was often forced to resist entreaties; and I recollect, even yet with pain, that I tore myself at one time from five persons in Moravian alley, who attempted to stop me, by suddenly whipping my horse, and driving beyond the reach of their cries.

The principal mortality was in the second week of October, when it numbered over one hundred deaths daily. A general expectation had obtained, that cold weather, as well as heavy rains, was fatal to this fever. The usual time for its arrival had come, but the weather was still not only moderate, but warm. In this awful situation, the stoutest hearts began to fail. Hope sickened, and despair succeeded distress in almost every countenance.'

At this point let us leave the general narrative, to inquire more particularly after our friends. The Patterson family, did they remain in the city all this while? They did, even up to the time at which the above account is broken off. What their feelings and fears must have been during these gloomy six weeks, may not easily be imagined. We attempt no description. But we may