Chapter XIII: Preface (11)

A late writer has charged the “Lees of Virginia” with hostility towards Washington, which, unqualified as it stands, includes Francis with the rest. This hostile feeling, he asserts, arose from the sentence of the court martial in 1778, that suspended General Charles Lee from holding any commission in the American army for one year. Had the writer consulted the records of Congress he might have avoided this error. Francis Lightfoot Lee was the only one of the name in Congress at that time. The sentence was acted upon and sanction by that body, and Mr. Lee voted in its favour. He was ever a warm friend of the illustrious Washington, and I have yet to learn that his brothers were not also. General Lee was a native of North Wales, and, excepting a short time during his youth, was not in America until 1773, and could not have had the same claims of friendship upon the “Lees of Virginia” as the father of our country. He was an accomplished and brave officer, having served in Portugal under Burgoyne, and in the army of Poland, and other places, from the time he was eleven years old until his unfortunate dereliction from orders at the battle of Monmouth. He died in Philadelphia in 1782. Another evidence that Mr. Lee held the hero of the revolution in veneration is of a later date. After the adoption of the federal constitution he was asked his opinion upon it. He answered, with an air of seriousness, “I am old and do not pretend to judge these things now, but one thing satisfies me it is all right—General Washington is in favour of it and John Warden is opposed to it.” Mr. Warden was opposed to American independence.

After he retired from Congress he enjoyed the domestic circle but for a short season. He was elected to the legislature of his native dominion contrary to his wishes, but promptly repaired to the post of public duty. After aiding in the removal of the most perplexing difficulties that embarrassed the government of the state, he again retired to the peaceful shades of private life, where he remained until April, 1797, when, calm and resigned, he obeyed the summons of the messenger of death, bid an affectionate farewell to his friends and the world, and took his departure “to that country from whose bourne no traveller returns,” triumphing in faith, rejoicing in death, with the full assurance of a crown of glory in a brighter and better world.

In public life Mr. Lee was eminently useful; his private worth and excellence shone with equal brilliancy. Always cheerful, amusing and instructive, he was the delight of every circle in which he moved. Wealthy, liberal and benevolent, he was the orphan’s father, the widow’s solace and the poor man’s friend. Kind, affectionate and intelligent, he was a good husband, a faithful companion, and a safe counsellor. Polished, urbane and gentlemanly, his examples were calculated to refine the manners of those around him. Moral, discreet and pious, his precepts had a salutary influence upon the minds of all who heard them and were not callous to good advice. He died of pleurisy, resulting from a heavy cold, and, within a few days of each other, himself and wife were both laid beneath the clods of the valley. They had no children to mourn their loss, but their graves were moistened by the tears of numerous relatives and friends. Let the shining examples of this good man be reflected forcibly upon our minds, that our country may be benefitted by us in time, and that our final exit from earth may be peaceful and happy.

THOMAS STONE.

A man who has a just sense of the responsibilities of a high public office, will seldom seek one, unless impelled by impending dangers that threaten to injure or destroy the best interests of his country. The more clearly a modest unassuming man perceives the magnitude of a public trust, the more he distrusts his own capacity to discharge its duties, yet such a man is the very one to be safely trusted. It was with great diffidence that Washington undertook the command of the American armies, yet no one can be pointed out who possessed as fully all the requisites to meet “the times that tried men’s souls.” John Hancock quailed under his appointment as president of the Continental Congress, yet no one could have manifested more firmness in the cause of liberty, or have presided with more dignity.

It is only in times of danger that men of the _greatest_ worth become _most_ conspicuous. They are then _sought_ out by the virtuous part of the community, and sometimes become prominent by throwing _themselves_ in the breach of danger. In times of peace and prosperity, the same men may be called to the councils of a nation without exciting astonishment or unusual applause, and the names of noisy political partisans may become more extensively known and be wider spread upon the wings of venal party newspapers than theirs. It is in such times that men of the greatest merit shrink from the public gaze, and it is in such times that the canker worm of political intrigue carries on the work of destruction in the body politic. It is in times of peril that men of deep thought, cool deliberation and sterling honesty, become most prominent and receive the full reward of merit. This fact was fully demonstrated during the American revolution. Many were then called to deliberate in the solemn assemblies of that eventful era who had not been previously known as public men, and who retired as soon as the mighty work of independence was completed. They were selected in consequence of their strict integrity and sound discretion.

Of this class was THOMAS STONE, a descendant of William Stone, who was governor of Maryland during the reign of Cromwell. He was born at Pointon Manor, Charles county, Maryland, in 1743. He was well educated under the liberal and classical instruction of a Scotch clergyman, and studied the profession of law with Thomas Johnson of Annapolis. He commenced a successful practice at that place, and was held in high estimation by the community in which he lived. Modest, retiring and unassuming in his manners, an industrious man of business, a close student, a safe and judicious counsellor, he was beloved and admired for his substantial worth and sterling merit. He possessed a clear head, a sound judgment, and a good heart. His mind was vigorous, analyzing, investigating, and patriotic. He was a friend to equal rights, and delighted in seeing every person happy. He detested oppression in all its varied shades. He was kind, noble and benevolent. With feelings like these he was not a careless observer of the infringements of the Grenville administration upon the constitutional and chartered rights of his fellow citizens. When the stamp act was promulged, he was a youth in politics, but the discussions upon its odiousness deeply interested him. He was an attentive listener and a thorough investigator. His opposition to it became firm; a holy indignation pervaded his bosom and prepared him for future action. Still he avoided the public gaze. With his friends in the private circle he conversed freely, lucidly and understandingly upon the subject of American rights and British wrongs, but could not be induced to mount the rostrum of the forum and display his forensic powers until a short time before he was called by his country to deliberate in her national council.

When the Boston port bill was proclaimed, Mr. Stone surmounted the barriers of diffidence and rushed promptly to the rescue. His example had a salutary influence upon those around him. All knew that something must be radically wrong, that some portentous danger hung over the colonies when Thomas Stone was roused to public action. The influence of such men as him, in times of peril, is of the highest value. The man who is always or often a declaimer in popular meetings, must possess Demosthenean or Ciceronian powers to command attention for a long time. The cool, the reflecting, the calculating, the timid and the wavering, are operated upon as by magic, where they see such a man as was Mr. Stone go boldly forward and advocate, what to them seems a cause of doubtful expediency.

On the 8th of December, 1774, he was elected a member of the Continental Congress, and took his seat in that body on the 15th of the ensuing May. The meeting of that convention of sages had been deeply solemn and imposing the preceding year, but at that time an increased responsibility rested upon the members. The cry of blood from the heights of Lexington was ringing in their ears; the fury of the revolutionary storm was increasing; the clash of arms and mortal combat had already commenced; the vials of British wrath were unsealed, and the fabric of civil government was falling before a foreign military force. To meet such a crisis, it required the wisdom of Solomon, the patriotism of Cincinnatus, the acuteness of Locke, the eloquence of Cicero, the caution of Tacitus, the learning of Atticus and the energy of Virginius. All these qualities were combined in the Continental Congress to a degree before unknown. Mr. Stone commenced his duties with vigour and prosecuted them with zeal. He was at first trammelled by the instructions of the provincial assembly of Maryland, that body being extremely anxious that peace should be restored without recourse to arms. But the increasing oppressions of the crown eventually removed this injunction and enabled him and his colleagues to join cheerfully in all measures calculated to promote the cause of independence. He was continued in Congress until 1777, when he declined a re-election. He had been a faithful labourer in the committee rooms, and an influential member in the house. He had bestowed much thought and time upon the articles of confederation, and felt bound to remain in the public service until they were fully formed and adopted. That important work completed, he retired from the halls of Congress, carrying with him the esteem and respect of that body, the approbation of a good conscience, and the unlimited gratitude of his constituents.

In 1778, he was elected a delegate of the Maryland legislature, where he became an important and influential member. During that session, the articles of confederation that he had aided in framing the preceding term in Congress, were submitted for consideration. They met with violent opposition at first, and were the subject of warm discussion. Having been present at their formation, Mr. Stone was prepared to answer the objections raised against them by lucid, clear, logical and convincing arguments. He contributed largely in gaining for them a majority of votes in the legislature of his state.

In 1783, he again took his seat in Congress and became a highly esteemed member. Devoted to the best interests of his country, free from political ambition, honest, frank, republican and sincere in his principles, he was safely entrusted with the responsibilities of every station he was called to fill. He was present when Washington resigned his commission and retired from the field of civic glory to the peaceful shades of Mount Vernon, amidst the loud plaudits of admiring millions, and the mingled tears of joy and gratitude that stood, like pearly dew drops, on the cheeks of his countrymen and compatriots in arms.

The ensuing year closed the labours of Mr. Stone in Congress, and completed his public career. During the last session in which he served, he presided, previous to its close, as president _pro tempore_, and, had he consented to a re-election, would, as a matter of course, been chosen the next president of the national legislature. As a further mark of public esteem, he was elected a delegate to the convention of 1787 that framed the federal constitution, but having commenced a lucrative practice of law at Port Tobacco he declined the honour of serving. On the 5th of October of the same year, he was prematurely and suddenly called to the bar of God to render an account of his stewardship, and closed his eyes in death, deeply lamented by numerous friends, a grateful country, and millions of freemen. He was cut off in the prime of life, in the midst of usefulness, whilst the prospects of future honours were opening brightly before him. But he had already earned a rich and honourable fame, imperishable as the pages of history, lasting as human intelligence. From the time he was first known as a public man to the present, neither the tongue of slander nor the breath of detraction have attempted to cast a stain upon his reputation as a patriot, a statesman, a lawyer, or a private citizen. He was a rare specimen of discretion, propriety and usefulness—a true specimen of the very salt of the body politic, rendering efficient services to his country without pomp or show, and without the towering talents of a Cicero or a Demosthenes. Such men are always valuable, and may be relied upon in the hour of danger as safe sentinels to guard the best interests of our nation.

LEWIS MORRIS.

A military depotism is a national curse. Laws that require the bayonet to enforce them upon a civilized and enlightened people, are of doubtful efficacy. Moments of excitement may occur in the best organized communities, arising from some sudden local impulse, that require a show of military power and even its force; but when a little time is afforded for reflection, reason resumes her sway, the spirit of mobocracy subsides, the soldier again becomes the peaceful citizen and rests for security upon the arm of civil power. Quartering the military among the citizens of a community, is calculated to produce numerous and serious evils. Let that military, after having enjoyed the bounty and hospitality of the citizens, be directed to _force_ the execution of laws upon these citizens, oppressive in their nature and ruinous in their effects, and an indignation is roused that is increased tenfold from the circumstance of previous familiarity. Intimate friends often become the most bitter enemies. Favours forgotten and ingratitude displayed, add to the desperation of revenge.

Thus, previous to the American revolution, the military were often quartered upon, or drew their support directly from the people. The colonies had also contributed largely in money and blood to aid the mother country in conquering her most inveterate foe in America—the French in Canada. No return was asked but the enjoyment of privileges granted and secured by the British constitution. This was eventually denied. Petitions were treated with contumely—remonstrances were laughed to scorn. Then it was that a band of sages rose to vindicate the rights of their country, whose achievements have no parallel in ancient or modern history.

Among the boldest of the bold was LEWIS MORRIS, who was born at Morrisania, in the vicinity of the city of New York, in 1726. The family documents of this Morris family trace their genealogy back to Rhice Fitzgerald. Rhys or Rhice Fitzgerald was a Cambrian chieftain, who carried his military operations and conquests into Ireland during the reign of Henry the second. By his valour and success he obtained the name Maur (great) Rhice, and the penultimate Fitzgerald was dropped, and we now find the name as we have it above. In tracing genealogy, we often find names as greatly changed as this. From this original down to the present time, the various branches of the family have been highly respectable, and have honourably filled many important stations.

Lewis was the son of Judge Morris, of the same christian name, who appears to have retained possession of the paternal estate formerly purchased by his grandfather, Richard Morris, who was a leader under Cromwell, and immigrated from Barbadoes about 1663, and purchased a large tract of land near Haarlem, on York Island. He died in 1773. He left an only son, Lewis, who was chief justice of New York, and subsequently governor of New Jersey.

After passing through his preparatory studies, Lewis entered Yale College at the age of sixteen. He became a good scholar and imbibed from the president, Dr. Clap, a permanent relish for moral and religious principles. In 1746, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, returned to his estate and became extensively engaged in agriculture. At that period the colonies were prosperous, free and happy. The mother country had not yet contemplated the imposition of burdens upon her distant children, and they were left to pursue their own course without annoyance or molestation. Then they enjoyed the fruits of their labours and reposed in peace.

In this happy retirement Mr. Morris continued to improve his farm and his mind, and by his suavity and urbanity of manners, united with moral rectitude and an honourable course, gained the confidence and esteem of all who knew him. He became the nucleus of a circle of friends of the highest attainments and respectability and was emphatically the people’s favourite. His appearance was in every way commanding. A noble and graceful figure, a fine and intelligent face, an amiable and agreeable disposition, a warm and ardent temperament, a benevolent and generous heart, an independent and patriotic soul, crowned with virtue, intelligence and refinement, he was in all respects to be admired and beloved.

The time approached rapidly when colonial repose was to be plucked by the roots and wither beneath the scorching rays of British oppression. The treasury of England had been drained by extravagance and war, and her national debt had swollen to an enormous amount. The story of prosperity and wealth in America was told to Mr. Grenville. The plan of imperious taxation was devised. The stamp act was passed. The sons of the pilgrim fathers were astonished and amazed. They loved their king, but loved their country more. Legal remedies were resorted to. A Congress was convened at New York. Able addresses to the throne and the people of Great Britain followed, breathing the purest allegiance conditioned on the restoration of constitutional rights. The stamp act was repealed, but only to give place to a more voracious and obnoxious family. In all these concerns of his country, Mr. Morris took a deep interest, and from the beginning, opposed even the approach of oppression, not at first as a leader but as an adviser. Although Massachusetts took the lead in opposition, New York made a strong show of resistance. In 1767, an act was passed by parliament compelling the people of that province to furnish the British soldiers that were quartered among them with provisions. By this order the burden fell upon certain portions of the inhabitants exclusively and not pro rata upon the whole. It was a direct invasion of personal rights and was most severely felt by the citizens of the city of New York and its vicinity. This measure brought Mr. Morris out. He publicly proclaimed it unconstitutional and tyrannical, and contributed largely towards influencing the legislature to place a veto upon it. Superior might eventually overpowered this opposition and enforced the contribution from the citizens. But spirits like that of Lewis Morris were not to be subdued. An unquenchable fire was only smothered to gather strength beneath the volcanic surface that then covered it. It was kept alive by fresh fuel added by Mr. Grenville and his more subtle successor Mr. North. The statute of Henry the eighth was revived, which doomed malecontents to be sent to England for trial; the Boston port bill, its handmaid, was passed and the cords of slavery were drawn more tightly. The last petitions and remonstrances in the magazine of patience were finally exhausted, and then it was that it was replenished with more potent materials. Mr. Morris had now become a prominent man, a bold and substantial whig, rather too ardent to send to the conciliatory Congress of 1774. But the time soon arrived when the people required just such a man, and in April, 1775, he was elected to the Continental Congress. Even then the majority attributed their sufferings to the ministers and not to the king, and still hoped he would cease to be an automaton and prove himself a man worthy of the high station he occupied. But hopes were vain, the juices of the olive branch became absorbed by the sponge of venal power, and the virtues of the sword were next to be tried. Already had the purple current stained the streets of Boston and the heights of Lexington—already had the groans of dying Americans, slain by the hands of those whom they had fed, pierced the ears of thousands—already were widows and orphans weeping for husbands weltering in blood and fathers covered with gore. Vigorous measures of defence followed—legions of foreign troops flooded the land—a dark and gloomy hour had arrived. Soon after his appearance in Congress, Mr. Morris was placed upon a committee of which the illustrious Washington was chairman, appointed to devise measures to obtain a supply of the munitions of war. This was a desideratum not readily acquired. Comparatively a sling and a few smooth stones were all the patriots had with which to commence the combat with the British Goliah. But with all these disadvantages, the battle of Bunker Hill convinced the veterans of Europe that men determined on liberty or death were not to be tamely subdued.

Mr. Morris became an active and efficient member of the national legislature, and advocated strong measures. Although his enthusiastic patriotism bordered on what was then considered rashness, in some instances, the very path marked out by him in 1775 was the one eventually followed. He became early convinced that an honourable peace could not be obtained _under_ Great Britain, and was satisfied that nothing but a triumph _over_ her would restore the equilibrium of justice and chartered rights. During the interim between that and the ensuing session, Mr. Morris was one of a committee appointed to visit the frontier Indian tribes, to deter them, if possible, from enlisting under the blood-stained banner of the mother country. He also visited the assemblies of the New England states, in order to perfect plans to raise supplies and prepare for a vigorous defence. In 1776 he again took his seat in Congress, and was animated to find a spirit more congenial with his views—a determination to sever the gordian knot and proclaim an eternal separation from a nation that had held power only to abuse it. He was placed on many and important committees, and was active in and out of the house. In his native neighbourhood Mr. Morris had no easy task to perform in rousing the people to an efficient opposition. Governor Tryon, who was as wise and poisonous too as a serpent, affected to be as harmless as a dove, and exerted a powerful influence over the people of the city of New York in favour of the crown. The commercial interests would be prostrated by a war, the inequality of the two powers rendered the success of the whigs problematical, and self interest, which was construed into self preservation, operated for a long time against the cause of liberty in that section. It required great exertions to surmount these obstacles. Mr. Morris and his friends put forth their noblest energies in the mighty work, and what _they_ could not effect, British oppression and the powder and ball of General Howe soon accomplished. The able addresses that he aided in preparing and circulating among the people do great credit to his head and heart as a patriot, a statesman and a scholar. They are chaste, forcible and luminous. When the declaration of independence was proposed Mr. Morris became one of its ardent supporters. At that very time his vast estate was within the power of the enemy, and he well knew that if he signed the instrument proposed, should it be adopted, it was giving to them a deed of sale, _alias_ of destruction, of all his property that was to them tangible. Most rigidly did they use the delegated authority. Even his extensive woodlands, of a thousand acres, were subjected to axe and fire, his family driven from their home, and every species of destruction resorted to that malice could invent, ingenuity design and revenge execute. But liberty was dearer to this determined patriot than earth and all its riches. He boldly sanctioned and fearlessly affixed his name to the great certificate of our national birth, and rejoiced in freedom illumined by the conflagration of Morrisania. His family and himself suffered many privations during the remainder of the war, but suffered patiently, without regret for the past and with brighter hopes for the future.

In 1777 he resigned his seat in Congress and repaired to his native state, in the legislature of which he rendered important services. He also served in the tented field and rose to the rank of major-general of militia. He was an excellent disciplinarian and contributed essentially in the organization of the state troops. In every situation he ably and zealously discharged all his duties, and never left the post of service until the American arms triumphed in victory, and the independence of his country was firmly established and acknowledged by the mother country. Then he retired to his desolated plantation, converted his sword into a pruning hook, his musket into a ploughshare, and his farm into a delightful retreat, where his friends from the city often visited him to enjoy his agreeable society, talk of times gone by, and rejoice in the consolations of blood-bought liberty. Peacefully and calmly he glided down the stream of time until January 1798, when his immortal spirit left its frail bark of clay and launched upon the ocean of eternity in a brighter and more substantial vessel. He died serene and happy, surrounded by an affectionate family and kind friends. His remains were deposited in the family vault upon his farm, under the honours of epic fame and civic glory.

The examples of Mr. Morris illustrate the patriotism that impelled to action during the revolution in a more than ordinary degree. He had every thing that could be destroyed to lose, if the colonies _succeeded_ in the doubtful struggle; and if they did not, the scaffold, or death in some shape, was his certain doom. He was, previous to the revolution, a favourite with the English; and, what was more, his brother Staats was a member of the British parliament and a general officer under the crown. But few made so great a personal sacrifice, and no one made it more cheerfully. Like Marion, he preferred a morsel of bread, or even a meal of roasted potatoes, with liberty and freedom, to all the trappings and luxuries of a king without them. So long as this kind of disinterested patriotism finds a resting place in the bosoms of Columbia’s sons, our union is safe—let this be banished and the fair temple of our liberty will perish in flames kindled by its professed guardians and sentinels.

JOHN HART.

Agriculture, of all occupations, is the one best calculated to rivet upon the heart a love of country. No profession is more honourable, but few are as conducive to health, and, above all others, it insures peace, tranquillity and happiness. A calling more independent in its nature, it is calculated to produce an innate love of liberty. The farmer stands upon a lofty eminence and looks upon the bustle of mechanism, the din of commerce, and the multiform perplexities of the literati, with feelings of personal freedom unknown to them. He acknowledges the skill and indispensable necessity of the first, the enterprise and usefulness of the second, and the unbounded benefits flowing from the last; then turns his thoughts to the pristine quiet of his agrarian domain and covets not the fame that accumulates around the other professions. His opportunities for intellectual improvement are superior to the two former, and, in many respects, not inferior to the latter. Constantly surrounded by the varied beauties of nature and the never-ceasing and harmonious operations of her laws, his mind is led to contemplate the wisdom of the Great Architect of worlds and the natural philosophy of the universe. Aloof from the commoving arena of public life, and yet, through the medium of that magic engine, the PRESS, made acquainted with the scenes that are passing there, he is able to form cool and deliberate conclusions upon the various topics that concern his country’s good and his country’s glory. In his retired domicile he is less exposed to the baneful influence of that corrupt and corrupting party spirit which is raised by the whirlwind of selfish ambition and wafted on the tornado of faction. Before he is roused to a participation in violent public action, he bears much, reflects deeply and resolves nobly. But when the oppressions of rulers become so intolerable as to induce the yeomanry of a country to leave their ploughs and peaceful firesides, and draw the avenging sword, let them beware—the day of retribution is at hand. Thus it was at the commencement of the American revolution—when the implements of husbandry were exchanged for those of war and the farmers joined in the glorious cause of liberty—the fate of England’s power over the colonies was sealed for ever. The commingling phalanx of all professions was irresistible as an avalanche in the full plenipotence of force.

Among the patriots of that eventful era who left their ploughs in the furrow and rushed to the rescue, was JOHN HART, a native of Hopewell, Hunterdon county, New Jersey, born about the year 1715. The precise time of his birth is not a matter of record, but his acts in the Continental Congress are. He was the son of Edward Hart, a brave and efficient officer, who aided the mother country in the conquest of Canada, and participated in the epic laurels that were gained by Wolfe on the heights of Abraham. He raised a volunteer corps, named it the “Jersey Blues,” an appellation still the pride of Jerseymen. He fought valiantly, and was recompensed by the _praise_, but not the _gold_ of the mother country. John Hart was an extensive farmer, a man of a strong mind, improved by reading and reflection, and ambitious only to excel in his profession. In Deborah Scudder he found an amiable and faithful wife, and in the affections and good conduct of a liberal number of sons and daughters he found an enjoyment which some bachelors may affect to despise, but for which they often sigh in vain. Eden’s fair bowers were pleasureless until Heaven’s first best gift to man was there.

Known as a man of sound judgment, clear perception, liberal views and pure motives, Mr. Hart was called to aid in public affairs long before the revolution. For twenty years he had served in various stations, and was often a member of the legislature of his native colony. He took a deep interest in the local improvements, always necessary in a new country, and also in the legislative enactments of that period. He was a warm supporter of education and aided in the establishment of seminaries of learning. He was a friend to social order and law, and contributed largely in producing an equilibrium of the scales of justice. In organizing the municipal government of his own county he rendered essential service. Still his family and his farm were his chief delight—save his orisons to Heaven. He viewed all public business as a duty to be performed when required, not as a political hobby-horse to ride upon. The public men of that day spoke but little, and then to the point, and despatched their business promptly. Sinecures were scarce, and office hunters few and far between. Industry, frugality and economy, in public and private matters, were the marked characteristics of the pilgrim fathers. Golden days! when will ye return in the majesty of your simplicity, and banish from our land the enervating follies, the poisonous weeds and the impugning evils that augur its destruction.

Observing and discerning, Mr. Hart was quick to discover the encroachments of the British ministry upon the constitutional rights and chartered privileges of the colonies, and was prompt in resisting them. The stamp act, passed on the 22nd of March, 1765, was followed by a commotion that showed by what a precarious tenure the king held his power in America. When the Congress convened at New York, on the first of October following, represented by nine of the colonies, Mr. Hart was a member of the convention that made the selection of delegates from New Jersey. The firm and discreet proceedings of that body produced a repeal of the act complained of on the 18th of the following March. Still the political alchymist, Mr. Grenville, was madly bent on trying fresh experiments. The colonists had borne the yoke of restrictions upon their trade and industry, which had been artfully and gradually increasing for more than fifty years, to the advantage of the mother country, and he concluded their necks had become sufficiently hardened by long use to bear a more ponderous burden. Poor fellow! he was as much mistaken in the metal he placed in his crucible as the colonists were amazed and indignant at his unwarranted pretensions. Direct taxation, without representation, was taking an issue not warranted by the præcipe or narr, and a general demurrer was promptly entered. An emparlance ensued, replications and rejoinders followed, and the suit was finally decided by wager of battle. Long and doubtful was the struggle—obstinate and bloody was the conflict. The second edition of the revenue plan, revised and stereotyped in 1767 by Charles Townshend, chancellor of the exchequer, imposing duties on glass, paper, paste-board, tea and painters’ colours, kindled a flame of indignation in the colonies that no power could quench. Public meetings against the measure, resolutions of the deepest censure, remonstrances of the strongest character, and arguments of the most conclusive logic, were hurled in its face; and to carry conviction to the minds of the ministry that the people were in earnest, Boston harbour was converted into a tea-pot and all the tea used at one drawing. Non-importation agreements, committees of safety, preparations of defence, non-intercourse, bloodshed, war and independence followed. In all these movements Mr. Hart concurred, and deliberately, but firmly, opposed the encroachments of the crown.

In 1774 he was elected to the Congress at Philadelphia, and, with the frost of sixty winters upon his head, entered upon duties of higher importance than had before devolved upon him. Mild, deliberate, cautious, discreet, but firm in his purposes, he became an important member to aid in carrying out the measures then contemplated—those of reconciliation and a restoration of amity. He was highly esteemed as a patriarch sage in the cause. The ensuing year he was again elected, and repaired to the post of duty, of honour and of fame, on the 10th of May. The cry of blood, shed on the 19th of the preceding April, had infused a spirit in Congress widely different from that which pervaded it a few months before. It was then that the Roman virtues of such men as Mr. Hart shone with peculiar splendour. The impetuosity of youth had passed away, their minds traced the deepest, darkest avenues of every proposition, arguments were weighed in the balance of reason, the causes, the effects, the objects, the ends, the plans, the means, were all placed in the scale of justice and exhibited to the inspection of those whose disposition led them to an examination. In this manner every act was performed with clean hands, the cause of liberty honoured, prospered and crowned with triumphant success. At this time Mr. Hart was also a member and vice-president of the assembly of his native colony, and shortly after, had the proud satisfaction of aiding in its funeral obsequies and in establishing a republican form of government. On the 14th of February, 1776, he was again elected to the Continental Congress, and when the chart of liberty was presented to his view, after carefully examining its bold physiognomy, he pronounced its points, its features, its landmarks, its delineations and its entire combination, worthy of freemen—gave it his vote, his signature and his benediction, and soon after retired from the public gaze and declined a re-election. As he anticipated, the British soldiers devastated his farm, drove away his family, destroyed his property, and compelled him, several times, to fly precipitately to save his neck from the halter. Under circumstances like these, no one will doubt the disinterested patriotism of the quiet farmer, JOHN HART. Not a stain rests upon his public or private character. In all the relations of life he performed his duty nobly. He was an honest man and devoted christian, a member of the baptist denomination, and died in 1780, from an illness brought on by exposure in flying from place to place to elude the pursuit of the British.

BUTTON GWINNETT.

Inconsistency is an incubus that assumes a thousand varied forms, and in some shape hangs over every nation and most individuals. It is human nature to err, but some errors there are, that, in the view of reason and common sense, are so legibly stamped with inconsistency as to enable every man of a sane mind to avoid them. Yet we often see men of high attainments rush into the whirlpool of inconsistency with a blind infatuation that seeks in vain for a justification, even by the rules of the most acute sophistry. Among the most fallacious and opprobrious inconsistencies that now hang over our nation is that of duelling. We boast of our intellectual light and intelligence, and mourn over the ignorance of the poor untutored Indian. In his turn he may point us to a dark spot upon our national character that never tarnished the name of an eastern or a western savage. This Bohon Upas of inconsistency thrives only in society that claims to be civilized. In no country has it been as much and as long tolerated without condign punishment as in our own. It is murder of the most deliberate kind, and a violation of the laws of God and man. Has any one of these numerous and blood-thirsty murderers, who walk boldly among us, ever been punished to the extent of the offended laws of our country? Not one. Widows may mourn, orphans languish, hearts bleed, and our statesmen perish, and the aggressor may still run at large, treated by some with more deference than if the escutcheon of his name was not stained with blood. This foul stigma upon the American name should be washed out speedily and effectually. The combined powers of public opinion, legislative, judicial and executive authority, should be brought to bear upon it with the force of an avalanche. Flagrant crimes are suppressed only by strong measures. This is the acknowledged policy of the penal code of every nation where laws are known and respected.

Among the victims of this cruel practice, was Button Gwinnett, a man of splendid talents and a pure patriot of the revolution, whose private character was without a stain, and his public career as brilliant as it was transient. He was born in England in 1732. His parents were respectable, but not wealthy. Being a boy of promise, they bestowed upon him an accomplished education, and at his majority he commenced a successful career in the mercantile business at Bristol, in his native country. He was commanding in appearance, six feet in height, open countenance, graceful manners, and possessed of fine feeling. Surrounded by an increasing family, he resolved on seeking another and a broader country, and in 1770 embarked for America. He landed at Charleston, S. C., where he commenced commercial business and remained two years. He then disposed of his merchandise and purchased a plantation upon St. Catharine’s Island, in Georgia, to which he removed and became an enterprising agriculturalist. He was a man of an active and penetrating mind, and a close observer of passing events. Having been in England during the formation of the visionary and impolitic plan of taxing the colonies, he understood well the frame work of the British cabinet, and from his course in the struggle that ensued, it is reasonable to infer that he had imbibed strong whig principles before his removal to this country. The subject of raising a revenue from the pioneers of the new world had been long and ably discussed in England. Many of her profoundest statesmen, and the most sagacious one that ever graced her parliament, lord Chatham, portrayed with all the truth of prophecy, the result of the unjust, the blind course of ministers towards the Americans. Connected with commerce and intelligent men as he was at Bristol, Mr. Gwinnett had become well informed upon the litigated points in controversy, and was well acquainted with the relative feelings and situation of the two countries. When the question of liberty or slavery was fairly placed before the people of his adopted land, he declared himself in favour of the latter. Knowing as he did the superior physical force of Great Britain and the comparative weakness of the colonies, their freedom, at first, seemed to him a paradox. His doubts upon the subject were removed in 1775, by the enthusiasm exhibited by the patriots, and by the lucid demonstrations of Lyman Hall, a bold and fearless advocate of equal rights, with whom he became intimate. Convinced from the beginning of the justice of the cause, and now convinced of its feasibility, he soon became a public champion in its favour. He had counted the cost, he had revolved in his mind the dangers that would accumulate around his family, himself and his property, which he truly predicted would be destroyed by his enemies, and had deliberately and nobly resolved to risk his life, his fortune and his sacred honour, in defence of chartered rights and constitutional franchises.

He enrolled himself among the leaders of the popular party and became a conspicuous and active member of public meetings, and of the several revolutionary committees. For some time after the other colonies had united in a concert of action against the common enemy, that of Georgia refused to join them. She stood perched upon the pivot of uncertainty, indeterminate, irresolved and doubting. Some of her noblest sons had become shining lights in the glorious cause, the fire of patriotism was extending, oppression was increasing, and, at length, the cry of blood was heard from Lexington. The work was done. Like a lion roused from his lair, Georgia started from her lethargy and prepared for the conflict. She resolved “to do or die.”

On the 2nd of February, 1776, Mr. Gwinnett was appointed a member of the Continental Congress, and took his seat in that venerable body on the 20th of the ensuing May. Although his constituents were now determined to maintain their rights at all hazards, the plan of independence was to the most of them more than problematical; a thing of visionary fancy, merely ideal, and not to be hoped for, much more not to be seriously attempted. The subject, however, gained new strength daily, and began to emerge from its embryo form. At this juncture, the Rev. Mr. Zubly, a colleague with Mr. Gwinnett, with an Iscariot heart, wrote a letter to the royal governor of Georgia, disclosing the contemplated measure, a copy of which was in some way obtained by one of the clerks and placed in the hands of Mr. Chase, who was proverbial for boldness, and who immediately denounced the traitor on the floor of Congress. The Judas at first attempted a denial by challenging his accuser for the proof, but finding that the betrayer had been betrayed, he fled precipitately for Georgia, in order to place himself under the protection of the governor, who had just escaped from the enraged patriots and was safely ensconced in a British armed vessel in Savannah harbour, and could render him no aid on terra firma. He was pursued by his colleague, Mr. Houston, but upon the wings of guilt he flew too rapidly to be overtaken.

When the proposition came before Congress for a final separation from the mother country, Mr. Gwinnett became a warm advocate of the measure, and when the trying hour, big with consequences, arrived, he gave his approving vote and affixed his signature to the important document that stands acknowledged by the civilized world the most lucid exposition of human rights upon the records of history—the Declaration of American Independence.

In February, 1777, Mr. Gwinnett took his seat in the convention of his own state, convened for the purpose of forming a constitution and establishing a republican form of government. His activity in Congress, to which he stood re-elected, had already given him great weight, and he at once exercised a powerful influence in his new situation. He submitted the draft of a constitution which, with a few slight amendments, was immediately adopted by the convention. Shortly after this he was elevated to the presidency of the provincial council, then the highest station in the state, thus rising within a single year from private life to the pinnacle of power in the colony. At this time an acrimonious jealousy existed between the civil and military authorities. At the head of the latter was General M’Intosh, against whom Mr. Gwinnett had pitted himself the preceding year, whilst in Congress, as a candidate for brigadier-general, and was unsuccessful. His elevation and influence became a source of uneasiness to his antagonist. The civil power claimed the right to try military officers for offences that General M’Intosh conceived were to be tried only by a court-martial. Another root of bitterness between these two gentlemen took its growth from the promotion of a senior lieutenant-colonel, then under General M’Intosh, to the command of his brigade, destined for the reduction of East Florida, agreeably to a plan formed by Mr. Gwinnett, which proved a disastrous failure. This was a source of mortification to the one, and the other publicly exulted in the misfortune. Under the new constitution a governor was to be elected on the first Monday of the ensuing May, and Mr. Gwinnett offered himself as a candidate. His competitor was a man whose talents and acquirements were far inferior to his, but succeeded in obtaining the gubernatorial chair. General M’Intosh again publicly exulted in the disappointments that were overwhelming his antagonist—a challenge from Mr. Gwinnett ensued—they met on the blood-stained field of _false_ honour—fought at the distance of four paces—both were wounded, Mr. Gwinnett mortally, and died on the 27th of May, 1777, the very time he should have been in Congress. Comment is needless—reflection is necessary.

WILLIAM ELLERY.

The sacredness of contracts honourably and fairly entered into by parties competent to make and consummate them, should be held in high veneration by all. The individual and the social compact from the co-partnership of the common business firm up to the most exalted nation, are bound by the laws of God, of man and of honour to keep inviolate their plighted faith. A deviation from the path of rectitude in this particular, is uniformly attended with evil consequences and often with those of the most direful kind. The party that violates its engagements without accruing causes of justification, and to advance its own interests regardless of those of the other, comes to court with a bad cause. I have repeatedly remarked, that the American revolution was produced by a violation on the part of the mother country of chartered rights secured to the colonists by the crown under the British constitution.

To enter into a full exposition of the relations between the two high contracting parties, would require more space than can be allowed in this work. A reference to some of the prominent points in a single charter, will give the reader an idea of the nature of the whole as originally granted, although some of a later date are rather more limited in their privileges than that of Rhode Island, to which I refer.

This charter secured religious freedom, personal liberty, personal rights of property, excluding the king from all interference with the local concerns of the colony and was virtually democratic in its features. One of the early acts of parliament, referring to Rhode Island, contains the following language. “That no person within the said colony at any time hereafter shall be in any way molested, punished, disquieted, or called in question for any difference of opinion in matters of religion that does not actually disturb the civil peace of the said colony.” The feelings of the inhabitants from the time they received their charter up to the time oppressions were commenced by Great Britain, may be inferred from the following extract taken from the ancient records of the secretary of state of that province addressed to the king. “The general assembly judgeth it their duty to signify his majesty’s gracious pleasure vouchsafed to us,” &c.; and also from the following extract of a letter written at a later period to Sir Henry Vane then in England. “We have long drunk of the cup of as great liberties as any people we can hear of under the whole heavens. We have not only been long free together with all English from the yokes of wolfish bishops and their popish ceremonies, against whose grievous oppressions God raised up your noble spirit in parliament, but we have sitten down quiet and dry from the streams of blood spilt by war in our native country. * * * We have not known what an excise means. We have almost forgotten what tythes are, yea, or taxes either to church or common weal.” In addition to other declaratory acts of parliament, sanctioning and construing chartered privileges generally in all the colonies, one was passed in March, 1663, involving the very hinge upon which the revolution turned, as the following extract shows. “Be it further enacted, _that no taxes shall be imposed or required of the colonies, but by the consent of the general assembly_,” meaning the general assembly of each colony separately and collectively. This single sentence of that act, based upon the British constitution and guarded by the sanctity of contracts that could not be annulled but by the mutual consent of the high contracting parties, solves the whole problem of the revolution. Living as the colonists did in the full enjoyments of these chartered privileges which had become matured by the age of more than a century, they would have been unworthy of the name of men, had they tamely submitted to their annihilation. To the unfading honour of their names let it be said—_they did not submit_. A band of sages and heroes arose, met the invaders of their rights, and drove them from Columbia’s soil.

Among them was WILLIAM ELLERY, a native of Newport, Rhode Island, born on the 2nd of December, 1727. His ancestors were from Bristol, England. He was the son of William Ellery, a graduate of Harvard College and an enterprising merchant, who filled many public stations, among which were those of judge, lieutenant-governor, and senator. Delighted with the docility of his son, he became his instructor and superintended his studies preparatory to his entrance in college. After these were completed, William entered Harvard College and became a close and successful student. He became delighted with the Greek and Roman classics and dwelt with rapture upon the history of the ancient republics. So great was his veneration for the ancient authors, that he continued to be familiar with them during his whole life, and became a lucid philologist in classic literature. At the age of twenty he took the degree of bachelor of arts, and then commenced the study of law. In that laborious field he was all industry and diligence, and was admitted to practice with brilliant prospects before him. Located in one of the pleasantest towns on the Atlantic, surrounded by a large circle of friends who desired his success, blessed with superior talents, improved by a refined education, esteemed by all who knew him, his situation was truly flattering. He possessed an agreeable and amiable disposition, a strong mind, enlivened by a large share of wit and humour, an urbanity of manners of a refined and polished cast, and an animation and life in conversation that dispelled ennui from every circle in which he moved. He was of the middle stature, well formed, with a large head, an intelligent and expressive countenance, moderate in his physical movements, and with all his vivacity generally wore a grave aspect. He was temperate, plain, and uniform in his habits and dress, and could seldom be induced to join in the chase after the _ignus fatuus_ of fashion. For many years before his death, his wardrobe bespoke a man of another generation.