"Come, tell me then the business you prefer: One only thriving trade!-a curious thing! Out with it then!" Said Jerry, Mother dear, Dear mother, bind me 'prentice to the king.

TO THE MEMORY

Of the brave Americans, under General Greene, in South Ca-
rolina, who fell in the action of September 8, 1781.
At EUTAW springs the valiant died:
Their limbs with dust are covered o'er-
Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;
How many heroes are no more!

If in this wreck of ruin, they
Can yet be thought to claim a tear,
O smite thy gentle breast, and say
The friends of freedom slumber here!
Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain,
If goodness rules thy generous breast,
Sigh for the wasted rural reign;
Sigh for the shepherds, sunk to rest!
Stranger, their humble graves adorn;
You too may fall, and ask a tear:
"Tis not the beauty of the morn
That proves the evening shall be clear-
They saw their injur'd country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rush'd to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear-but left the shield.
Led by thy conquering genius, GREENE,
The Britons they compell'd to fly:
None distant view'd the fatal plain,
None griev'd, in such a cause, to die-
But, like the Parthian, fam'd of old,
Who, flying, still their arrows threw ;
These routed Britons, full as bold,
Retreated, and retreating slew.
Now rest in peace, our patriot band;
Though far from Nature's limits thrown,
We trust, they find a happier land,
A brighter sunshine of their own.

ON THE MEMORABLE VICTORY

Obtained by the gallant Captain John Paul Jones of the Bon
Homme Richard, over the Serapis, under the command of
Captain Pearson.

O'er the rough main, with flowing sheet,
The guardian of a numerous fleet,

Seraphis from the Baltic came:

A ship of less tremendous force
Sail'd by her side the self-same course,
Countess of Scarb'ro' was her name.

And now their native coasts appear,
Britannia's hills their summits rear
Above the German main;
Fond to suppose their dangers o'er,
They southward coast along the shore,

Thy waters, gentle Thames, to gain.

Full forty guns Seraphis bore,
And Scarb'ro's Countess twenty-four,

Mann'd with Old England's boldest tars-
What flag that rides the Gallic seas
Shall dare attack such piles as these,

Design'd for tumults and for wars!

Now from the top-mast's giddy height
A seaman cry'd-" Four sail in sight
Approach with favouring gales."
Pearson, resolv'd to save the fleet,
Stood off to sea, these ships to meet,

And closely brac'd his shivering sails.

With him advanc'd the Countess bold,
Like a black tar in wars grown old:

And now these floating piles drew nigh
But, muse, unfold, what chief of fame
In the other warlike squadron came,

Whose standards at his mast-head fly.

"Twas JONES, brave JONES, to battle led As bold a crew as ever bled

Upon the sky-surrounded main;
The standards of the western world
Were to the willing winds unfurl'd,
Denying Britain's tyrant reign.

The Good-Man-Richard led the line;
The Alliance next: with these combine
The Gallic ship they Pallas call,
The Vengeance arm'd with sword and flame;
These to attack the Britons came-

But two accomplish'd all.

Now Phoebus sought his pearly bed:
But who can tell the scenes of dread,
The horrors of that fatal night!
Close up these floating castles came:
The Good-Man-Richard bursts in flame;
Seraphis trembled at the sight.

She felt the fury of her ball:
Down, prostrate, down the Britons fall;

The decks were strew'd with slain:
JONES to the foe his vessel lash'd;
And, while the black artillery flash'd,
Loud thunders shook the main,
Alas! that mortals should employ
Such murdering engines to destroy

That frame by heaven so nicely join'd;
Alas! that e'er the god decreed
That brother should by brother bleed,

And pour'd such madness in the mind. But thou, brave JONES, no blame shalt bear The rights of men demand your care:

For these you dare the greedy waves
No tyrant, on destruction bent,
Has plann'd thy conquests-thou art sent
To humble tyrants and their slaves.
See!-dread Seraphis flames again-
And art thou, JONES, among the slain,

And sunk to Neptune's caves below-
He lives-though crowds around him fall,
Still he, unhurt, survives them all;

Almost alone he fights the foe.
And can your ship these strokes sustain?
Behold your brave companions slain,

All clasp'd in ocean's cold embrace,
STRIKE, OR BE SUNK-the Briton cries-
SINK IF YOU CAN-the chief replies,

Fierce lightnings blazing in his face. Then to the side three guns he drew, (Almost deserted by his crew,)

And charg'd them deep with woe;
By Pearson's flash he aim'd hot balls;
His main-mast totters-down it falls-
O'erwhelming half below.

Pearson had yet disdain'd to yield,
But scarce his secret fears conceal'd,
And thus was heard to cry-
"With hell, not mortals, I contend;
What art thou-human, or a fiend,
That dost my force defy?

"Return, my lads, the fight renew !"— So call'd bold Pearson to his crew;

But call'd, alas! in vain; Some on the decks lay maim'd and dead; Some to their deep recesses fled,

And hosts were shrouded in the main. Distress'd, forsaken, and alone, He haul'd his tatter'd standard down, And yielded to his gallant foe; Bold Pallas soon the Countess took,Thus both their haughty colours struck, Confessing what the brave can do. But, JONES, too dearly didst thou buy These ships possest so gloriously,

Too many deaths disgrac'd the fray: Thy barque that bore the conquering fame, That the proud Briton overcame,

Even she forsook thee on thy way; For when the morn began to shine, Fatal to her, the ocean brine

Pour'd through each spacious wound; Quick in the deep she disappear'd: But JONES to friendly Belgia steer'd,

With conquest and with glory crown'd. Go on, great man, to scourge the foe, And bid these haughty Britons know

They to our Thirteen Stars shall ben!
The Stars that, veil'd in dark attire,
Long glimmer'd with a feeble fire,
But radiant'now ascend.

Bend to the Stars that flaming rise
On western worlds, more brilliant skies,
Fair Freedom's reign restor'd—
So when the Magi, come from far,
Beheld the God-attending Star,

They trembled and ador'd.

THE BATTLE OF STONINGTON, ON THE SEABOARD OF CONNEC

TICUT.

In an attack upon the town and a small fort of two guns, by the Ramillies, seventy-four gun ship, commanded by Sir Thomas Hardy; the Pactolus, 38 gun ship, Despatch, brig of 22 guns, and a razee, or bomb ship.—August, 1814. Four gallant ships from England came Freighted deep with fire and flame, And other things we need not name,

To have a dash at Stonington.

Now safely moor'd, their work begun;
They thought to make the Yankees run,
And have a mighty deal of fun

In stealing sheep at Stonington.

A deacon then popp'd up his head,
And parson Jones's sermon read,
In which the reverend doctor said

That they must fight for Stonington.
A townsman bade them, next, attend
To sundry resolutions penn'd,
By which they promised to defend

With sword and gun old Stonington.
The ships advancing different ways,
The Britons soon began to blaze,
And put th' old women in amaze,

Who fear'd the loss of Stonington.
The Yankees to their fort repair'd,
And made as though they little cared
For all that came-though very hard

The cannon play'd on Stonington.
The Ramillies began the attack,
Despatch came forward-bold and black—
And none can tell what kept them back
From setting fire to Stonington.

The bombardiers with bomb and ball,
Soon made a farmer's barrack fall,
And did a cow-house sadly maul

That stood a mile from Stonington.

They kill'd a goose, they kill'd a hen,
Three hogs they wounded in a pen-
They dash'd away, and pray what then?
This was not taking Stonington.

The shells were thrown, the rockets flew,
But not a shell, of all they threw,
Though every house was full in view,

Could burn a house at Stonington.

To have their turn they thought but fair;The Yankees brought two guns to bear, And, sir, it would have made you stare,

This smoke of smokes at Stonington.
They bored Pactolus through and through,
And kill'd and wounded of her crew
So many, that she bade adieu
T' the gallant boys of Stonington.
The brig Despatch was hull'd and torn-
So crippled, riddled, so forlorn,
No more she cast an eye of scorn

On the little fort at Stonington.
The Ramillies gave up th' affray,
And, with her comrades, sneak'd away.
Such was the valor, on that day,

Of British tars near Stonington.
But some assert, on certain grounds,
(Besides the damage and the wounds),
It cost the king ten thousand pounds
To have a dash at Stonington.

A BACCHANALIAN DIALOGUE. WRITTEN 1803.
Arrived at Madeira, the island of vines,
Where mountains and valleys abound,
Where the sun the mild juice of the cluster refines,
To gladden the magical ground:

As pensive I stray'd in her elegant shade,
Now halting and now on the move,

Old Bacchus I met, with a crown on his head,
In the darkest recess of a grove.

I met him with awe, but no symptom of fear
As I roved by his mountains and springs,
When he said with a sneer,
how dare you come

here,

To Charleston I bid you repair:

There drink your Jamaica, that maddens the brain; You shall have no Madeira-I swear.'

"Dear Bacchus," (I answered) for Bacchus it was, That spoke in this menacing tone:

I knew by the smirk and the flush on his face It was Bacchus, and Bacchus alone"Dear Bacchus (I answered), ah, why so severe ?-Since your nectar abundantly flows, Allow me one cargo-without it I fear Some people will soon come to blows.

"I left them in wrangles, disorder, and strife, Political feuds were so high,

I was sick of their quarrels, and sick of my life, And almost requested to die."

The deity smiling, replied, "I relent:-
For the sake of your coming so far,
Here, taste of my choicest-go, tell them repent,
And cease their political war.

"With the cargo I send, you may say, I intend
To hush them to peace and repose;

With this present of mine, on the wings of the wind

You shall travel, and tell them, here goes "A health to old Bacchus! who sends them the best Of the nectar his island affords,

The soul of the feast and the joy of the guest, Too good for your monarchs and lords. "No rivals have I in this insular waste,

Alone will I govern the isle

With a king at my feet, and a court to my taste, And all in the popular style.

"But a spirit there is in the order of things, To me it is perfectly plain,

That will strike at the sceptres of despots and kings, And only king Bacchus remain."

GOUVERNEUR MORRIS.

THE first of the ancestors of Gouverneur Morris who emigrated to America, was Richard Morris, who is said to have been an officer in Cornwallis's army. He came to New York, after a short residence in the West Indies, and purchased an estate of three thousand acres at Harlaem, which was invested by the governor with manorial rights. His son Lewis succeeded to the estate; and filled, during the last eight years of his life, the office of Governor of New Jersey. His eldest son, Lewis, became a member of the New York Legislature, in which he adopted the liberal side. He had eight children, four of whom were sons, and out of these sons Gouverneur was the youngest.

He

was born at Morrisania, Jan. 31, 1752. When quite young he was placed in the family of M. Tetar, a teacher at New Rochelle, where he acquired a thorough knowledge of the French language. He was a graduate of King's College at the early age of sixteen, and distinguished himself at Commencement by a florid address on Wit and Beauty. He next studied law in the office of William Smith, the Colonial historian of the state;

and we find him at the age of eighteen, displaying the future bent of his mind by a series of anonymous newspaper articles against a project brought up in the Assembly for raising money by issuing bills of credit. In 1775, he was elected a member of the first Provincial Congress. Here he early attracted attention, by a report and speech on the mode of emission of a paper currency by the Continental Congress. The report was forwarded to that body, which afterwards followed out its chief suggestions. He continued in this position, taking an active part in every leading question, until the year 1777, when he was elected a member of the Revolutionary Congress. The winter which followed his appointment was passed at Valley Forge, as one of a committee appointed to examine, with Washington, into the state of the army. He subsequently maintained a regular correspondence with the general, and was of much service in Congress, promoting measures for the better support and efficiency of the national forces. He was also the chairman of the committee of five appointed in 1779 to consider the despatches received from the American Commissioners in Europe, whose report formed the basis of the subsequent treaty of peace. On the question of the jurisdiction of the state of New York over the "New Hampshire Grants," now the State of Vermont, Morris was supposed to be, and probably was, in favor of the independence of the region, and consequently lost his election by the state legislature. He continued to reside in Philadelphia, where he commenced the practice of his profession. In the early part of 1780, he published a series of essays in the "Pennsylvania Packet," signed "An American," on the state of the national finances, which were then in their worst condition. In these, he attacks with ability the laws passed, making the receipt of the paper currency at a fixed value compulsory, and also those regulating prices. An able passage is quoted by Mr. Sparks from one of these papers:—

"The last object I shall mention,' is the preservation of our federal union, which, in my poor opinion, will greatly depend on the management of our revenue. The articles of confederation were formed when the attachment to Congress was great and warm. The framers of it, therefore, seem to have been only solicitous how to provide against the power of that body, which, by means of their foresight and care, now exists by mere courtesy and sufferance. This is an evil, which cannot at present be remedied, but if, in addition to this, a number of long accounts, and quotas, and proportions be left for settlement, until the enemy be removed at a distance, and the fear of them also removed, these will afford so much matter for litigation, and occasion such heart-burnings, and give such room for the intrigues, which Great Britain has already attempted, and which will doubtless be carried on by her or some other foreign power, that our union will become, what our enemies long since declared it was, a mere rope of sand. Congress then, like the traveller's coat in the fable, after having been hugged close through the stormy hour of danger, will be cast aside as a useless burden, in the calm and sunshine of peace and victory. Surely the consequences of such a measure, the struggles, the convulsions, the miseries, need not be pictured to a sensible and discerning people.'

In May of this year, Morris, while driving

through Philadelphia, was thrown from his vehicle, and his leg injured to such an extent as to render amputation necessary. He submitted to the operation with cheerfulness; and is said to have had it performed by a young surgeon, that the credit attached to a successful treatment of a case which had attracted public attention, might be given to a friend whom it would advance in fortune.

"The day after the accident occurred, a friend called to see him, who thought it his duty to offer as much consolation as he could, on an event so melancholy. He dwelt upon the good effects which such a trial would produce on his character and moral temperament, and the diminished inducements it would leave for seeking the pleasures and dissipations of life, into which young men are too apt to be led. My good Sir,' replied Mr. Morris, 'you argue the matter so handsomely, and point out so clearly the advantages of being without legs, that I ain almost tempted to part with the other.'

"To another person, who visited him on the same occasion, and gave utterance to his feelings of sympathy and regret, he replied: 'O, Sir, the loss is much less than you imagine; I shall doubtless be a steadier man with one leg than with two.'"*

For the remainder of his life he wore a wooden leg, preferring this substitute to one of cork, which he tried afterwards in Paris. The wooden leg did him a better service than a real one on one occasion during his ministry in that city. Being hooted while riding home in his carriage, during the revolution, he disarmed the fury of the mob, and converted their cries of aristocrat into cheers of approbation by putting his wooden member out of the window and exclaiming "An aristocrat? Yes, who lost his limb in the cause of American liberty."t

In 1781, Robert Morris was placed at the head of the finances of the nation, which had previously been managed by a committee of Congress. His first act was to appoint Gouverneur Morris his assistant. He accepted the situation, and performed its duties for three years and a half. He still remained, after his retirement, connected with Robert Morris in various private financial matters. In 1786, his mother died. Her life interest in the estate of Morrisania thus terminated; it passed into the possession of the second son, Staats Long Morris, a general in the British army, the eldest son Lewis, having received his portion in his father's lifetime. The other children were to receive seven thousand pounds from Staats. As he resided in England he had no objection to a sale, and Gouverneur, by the aid of loans and accommodations, became possessed of the estate by purchase from his brother. In 1787, he took his seat as delegate from Pennsylvania, in the convention for the formation of the federal constitution. No record of his acts in that body is found among his papers. An original letter written to Mr. Sparks in reply to a request for information on the subject by President Madison, bears testimony to Morris's general exertions in promoting harmony, and also that the draft of the constitution was placed in his hands to receive its finished form.

On the 18th of December, 1788, Morris sailed for Havre. He arrived at Paris on the 3d of February following. From this time he kept a minute diary, numerous selections from which will be found in Mr. Sparks's Life.

In January, 1791, Morris visited London by appointment of President Washington, as a private agent to the English government, to settle unfulfilled articles of the treaty of peace. Conferences were prolonged till September without result. During his stay at London, he received the announcement of his appointment as Minister to France. His course during the troublesome period of his tenure of this office, was marked by the caution requisite in his position. In August, 1794, he was succeeded by Monroe-his recall having been asked by the French government, after the recall of Citizen Genet at the request of the United States. He next made an extensive tour in Europe, and while at Vienna endeavored to obtain the release of La Fayette from Olmutz. This was effected in September, 1797, at the requisition of Bonaparte. In October, 1798, having arranged the complicated business affairs which had long occupied his attention, he returned home. The voyage from Hamburgh, retarded by various accidents, occupied eighty days. He was chosen the next year to fill a vacancy in the Senatorial representation of New York. Before taking his seat in May, he was engaged in February as counsel in a law case at Albany, in which Hamilton was opposed to him. He sided in the Senate, and for the remainder of his life, with the Federalists. He was opposed to the discontinuance of direct taxation, and in favor of the purchase of Louisiana. His term closed in March, 1803, and the remainder of his life was passed at Morrisania.

He married on Christmas Day, 1809, Miss Anne Carey Randolph, a member of the eminent Virginia family of that name. Without informing his relatives of his intention, he assembled them apparently for the celebration of the festival, and while they were wondering at the non-appearance of their host, entered with a lady, and the pair were forthwith made man and wife. If all present did not relish the marriage, they did the dinner, and in this odd mode of conducting a delicate affair, the wary politician may have shown his skill as well as in the wider field of national diplomacy. The guests were again summoned to the baptism of his child. A mot of one of the party deserves record for its humor, good or bad as the reader pleases. They were in ignorance before the ceremony as to the name the infant was to receive. "For my part," said one, near, we presume, in the scale of propinquity, "I think he had better call his boy after his Russian friend, Kutusoff.”

He still retained his fondness for travel, and made frequent journeys. He delivered funeral orations on the occasion of the death of Washington, two others of a similar character on Hamilton and Governor George Clinton; an address "in celebration of the Deliverance of Europe from the Yoke of Military Despotism," June 29, 1814; an inaugural Discourse before the New York Historical Society, on his appointment as President, and towards the close of his life contributed frequently to the New York Evening

Post, the Examiner, and the United States Gazette. His articles consist chiefly of satires in The prose and verse on the politics of the day. oration on Hamilton was delivered in the open air, on his interment at the porch of the old Trinity Church. He was an early advocate of the Erie Canal, and was Chairman of the Canal Commissioners from their first appointment in March, 1810, until his death, which occurred after a brief illness, November 6, 1816.

When he was about dying, he said to his friend at Morrisania, “Sixty-five years ago it pleased the Almighty to call me into existence, here, on this spot, in this very room; and how shall I complain that he is pleased to call me hence?" From the nature of his disease, he was aware that his hours were numbered. On the morning of his death, he inquired of his near relative, the Hon. Martin S. Wilkins, what kind of a day it was? "A beautiful day," answered his nephew. "The air is soft, the day cloudless, the water like crystal; you hear every ripple, and even the plash of the steamboat wheels on the river; it is a beautiful day." The dying man seemed to take in this description with that zest for nature which accorded with the poetic interest of his character. Like Webster, his mind reverted to Gray's Elegy; he looked at the kind relative, and repeated his last words. "A beautiful day; yes, but

"Who to dumb forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind."* His life, with selections from his correspondence and miscellaneous papers, by Jared Sparks, was published in 1832, in 3 vols. 8vo. A large portion is occupied with his public and private correspondence on the French Revolution. His letters contain a mass of testimony and sagacious comment on that great event.

Morris, like many energetic men, was in the habit of expressing his opinions with a freedom which often involved him in difficulties. His indulgence in sarcasm also led to difficulties, and gained him enemies. His openness and sincerity of character were, however, duly estimated and prized by his friends. His shrewdness enabled him to take advantage of favorable opportunities for the increase of his property, and he died the possessor of a large estate. In person, he so closely resembled Washington, that he stood as a model of his form to Houdon the sculptor.

FUNERAL ORATION BY THE DEAD BODY OF HAMILTON.

If on this sad, this solemn occasion, I should endeavor to move your commiseration, it would be doing injustice to that sensibility, which has been so generally and so justly manifested. Far from attempting to excite your emotions, I must try to repress my own; and yet, I fear, that, instead of the language of a public speaker, you will hear only the lamentations of a wailing friend. But I will struggle with my bursting heart, to portray that Heroic Spirit, which has flown to the mansions of bliss.

Students of Columbia-he was in the ardent pursuit of knowledge in your academic shades, when

Dr. J. W. Francis's comparison of Webster and Morris, at the celebration of Webster's birth-day, January 18, 1854, at the Astor House.

the first sound of the American war called him to the field. A young and unprotected volunteer, such was his zeal, and so brilliant his service, that we heard his name before we knew his person. It seemed as if God had called him suddenly into existence, that he might assist to save a world!

The penetrating eye of WASHINGTON soon perceived the manly spirit which animated his youthful bosom. By that excellent judge of men, he was selected as an Aid, and thus he became early acquainted with, and was a principal actor in the most important scenes of our Revolution. At the siege of York, he pertinaciously insisted on-and he obtained the command of a Forlorn Hope. He stormed the redoubt; but let it be recorded that not one single man of the enemy perished. His gallant troops, emulating the heroism of their chief, checked the uplifted arm, and spared a foe no longer resisting. Here closed his military career.

Shortly after the war, your favor-no, your discernment, called him to public office. You sent him to the convention at Philadelphia; he there assisted in forming that constitution, which is now the bond of our union, the shield of our defence, and the source of our prosperity. In signing the compact, he expressed his apprehension that it did not contain sufficient means of strength for its own preser vation; and that in consequence we should share the fate of many other Republics, and pass through Anarchy to Despotism. We hoped better things. We confided in the good sense of the American people; and, above all, we trusted in the protecting Providence of the Almighty. On this important subject he never concealed his opinion. He disdained concealment. Knowing the purity of his heart, he bore it as it were in his hand, exposing to every passenger its inmost recesses. This generous indiscretion subjected him to censure from misrepresentation. His speculative opinions were treated as deliberate designs; and yet you all know how strenuous, how unremitting were his efforts to establish and to preserve the constitution. If, then, his opinion was wrong, pardon, O! pardon that single error, in a life devoted to your service.

At the time when our government was organized, we were without funds, though not without resources. To call them into action, and establish order in the finances, Washington sought for splendid talents, for extensive information, and above all, he sought for sterling, incorruptible integrity. these he found in HAMILTON.

All The system then

adopted, has been the subject of much animadver

sion. If it be not without a fault, let it be remembered that nothing human is perfect. Recollect the circumstances of the moment-recollect the conflict of opinion-and, above all, remember that the minister of a Republic must bend to the will of the people. The administration which Washington formed was one of the most efficient, one of the best that any country was ever blest with. And the result was a rapid advance in power and prosperity, of which there is no example in any other age or nation. The part which Hamilton bore is universally

known.

His unsuspecting confidence in professions, which he believed to be sincere, led him to trust too much to the undeserving. This exposed him to misrepresentation. He felt himself obliged to resign. The care of a rising family, and the narrowness of his fortune, made it a duty to return to his profession for their support. But though he was compelled to abandon public life, never, no, never for a moment did he abandon the public service. He never lost sight of your interests. I declare to you, before that God, in whose presence we are now especially as