sembled, that in his most private and confidential conversations, the single objects of discussion and consideration were your freedom and happiness. You well remember the state of things which again called forth Washington from his retreat to lead your armies. You know that he asked for Hamilton to be his second in command. That venerable sage well knew the dangerous incidents of a military profession, and he felt the hand of time pinching life at its source. It was probable that he would soon be removed from the scene, and that his second would succeed to the command. He knew by experience the importance of that place and he thought the sword of America might safely be confided to the hand which now lies cold in that coffin. Oh my fellow-citizens, remember this solemn testimonial that he was not ambitious. Yet he was charged with ambition, and wounded by the imputation, when he laid down his command, he declared, in the proud independence of his soul, that he never would accept of any office, unless in a foreign war he should be called on to expose his life in defence of his country. This determination was immovable. It was his fault that his opinions and his resolutions could not be changed. Knowing his own firm purpose, he was indignant at the charge that he sought for place or power. He was ambi-: tious only for glory, but he was deeply solicitous for you. For himself he feared nothing; but he feared that bad men might, by false professions, acquire your confidence, and abuse it to your ruin.

Brethren of the Cincinnati-there lies our chief! Let him still be our model. Like him, after long and faithful public services, let us cheerfully perform the social duties of private life. Oh! he was mild and gentle. In him there was no offence; no guile. His generous hand and heart were open to all.

Gentlemen of the bar-you have lost your brightest ornament. Cherish and imitate his example. While, like him, with justifiable, and with laudable zeal, you pursue the interests of your clients, remember, like him, the eternal principle of justice.

Fellow-citizens-you have long witnessed his professional conduct, and felt his unrivalled eloquence. You know how well he performed the duties of a citizen-you know that he never courted your favor by adulation or the sacrifice of his own judgment. You have seen him contending against you, and saving your dearest interests as it were, in spite of yourselves. And you now feel and enjoy the benefits resulting from the firm energy of his conduct. Bear this testimony to the memory of my departed friend. I charge you to protect his fame. It is all he has left-all that these poor orphan children will inherit from their father. But, my countrymen, that fame may be a rich treasure to you also. Let it be the test by which to examine those who solicit your favour. Disregarding professions, view their conduct, and on a doubtful occasion ask, would Hamilton have done this thing?

You all know how he perished. On this last scene I cannot, I must not dwell. It might excite emotions too strong for your better judgment. Suffer not your indignation to lead to any act which might again offend the insulted majesty of the laws. On his part, as from his lips, though with my voicefor his voice you will hear no more-let me entreat you to respect yourselves.

And now, ye ministers of the everlasting God, perform your holy office, and commit these ashes of our departed brother to the bosom of the grave.

THE RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS-1814.

"Tis done. The long agony is over. The Bourbons are restored. France reposes in the arms of

her legitimate prince. We may now express our attachment to her consistently with the respect we owe to ourselves. We recall to remembrance that interesting period, when, in the fellowship of arms, our souls were mingled at the convivial feast, and our blood on the field of glory. We look, exulting, at the plain of York. There French and American troops contended, in generous strife, who first should reach the goal of victory. There the contest for independence was closed. There was sealed our title to be numbered among the nations.

Thank God, we can, at length, avow the sentiments of gratitude to that august family, under whose sway the fleets and armies of France and Spain were arrayed in defence of American liberty. We then hailed Louis the Sixteenth protector of the rights of mankind. We loved him. We deplored his fate. We are unsullied by the embrace of his assassins. Our wishes, our prayers, have accompa nied the loyal Spaniards in their struggle; and we blush that Americans were permitted to offer only wishes and prayers.

This virtuous monarch, our friend in the hour of danger, was the victim of his own goodness. Ardently desirous to ameliorate the condition of subjects for whom he felt the fondness of a father, he thought no sacrifice of power too great if he could promote their felicity. He had been persuaded that his prerogative, useless to him, was oppressive to them. Dang He had been told and gerous error! believed, that in their loyalty he had a perfect defence against the intrigues of turbulent demagogues. Fatal delusion! This just, this merciful prince, was led to execution amid the insulting shouts of a ferocious mob. He was guarded by militia who felt horror at the office. The royal victim, collected in himself, was occupied, during the long procession, in beseeching the divine majesty to pardon his rebellious subjects. But the stroke which severed from the body his innocent head, cut them off from forgiveness, until they should have expiated the crime against nature and against heaven. A murder most by lengthened years of misery. O it was a crime foul and cruel. A deed at which fiends might have I heard the general groan. Every bosom anticipated wept. I was in Paris. I saw the gush of sorrow. the sentence of an avenging God. It was like a second fall of man. An awful scene of affliction, guilt, and horror. All were humbled to the dust, save only those who exulted, in screams of diabolic rapture, at their success in driving an assembly over which they tyrannized to this nefarious act.

On the same scaffold, condemned by the same judges, perished Danton himself. He perished, conspiring to place the imprisoned son on the throne of a father whom he had laboured to destroy. He believed that Louis the Sixteenth had been too much disgraced to reign over a proud nation. Combining, therefore, the courage of a hero with the energy of a conspirator, and unrestrained by religion or mercy, he determined to strike off the head which he thought unfit for a crown. In the rapid march of fate his own soon fell. Insulted with the semblance of trial, convicted without proof, condemned unheard, he roared in a voice of thunder, "I have been told, and now believe, that the punishment of man is the fruit of his crime. Wretches! I gave you the power of dooming innocence to death, and I, by your doom, must die. The same justice shall overtake those who sent me here and you also." The voice of the savage was prophetic.

This occasion does not require, neither will it permit of, a history, or even the rapid recapitulation, of important events. We have seen the tumults of democracy terminate, in France, as they have everywhere terminated, in despotism. What had been foreseen and foretold, arrived. The power of usurpation was directed and maintained by great talents. Gigantic schemes of conquest, prepared with deep and dark intrigue, vast masses of force conducted with consummate skill, a cold indifference to the miseries of mankind, a profound contempt for moral ties, a marble-hearted atheism, to which religion was only a political instrument, and the stern persevering will to bend everything to his purpose, were the means of Napoleon to make himself the terror, the wonder, and the scourge of nations. The galling of his iron yoke taught Frenchmen feelingly to know how much they had lost in breaking the bands of their allegiance. They had, indeed, to amuse them, the pomp of triumph, the shout of victory, and the consciousness of force which made the neighboring nations groan. But the fruits of their labour were wrested from them to gratify the extravagance of vanity, or supply the waste of war. Their children were torn from their bosoms, and marched off in chains to the altar of impious, insatiable ambition. Aged parents, who with trembling step had followed to bid the last of many sons a final, fond adieu, in returning to their cottage, once the scene of humble happiness, but now stript by remorseless collectors of everything which could be sold, looking around in vain for the little objects to which use and need had given value, and seeing only the remnant of that loaf from which they had taken their last meal, moistened with bitter tears, turn their eyes to heaven, then, throwing themselves in each other's arms, exclaim, my child! my child! Such, France, were thy sufferings. Thus was the innocent blood of thy sovereign visited upon thee. Frenchmen! by these woes were you taught to feel the present, the avenging God. It was this deep agony which led you to declare to your sovereign's brother, in the language of nature and truth, "Sir, we bring you our hearts; the tyrant has left us nothing else to give."

At length, after many battles, the well-planned movements of the allies obliged Napoleon to abandon Dresden. From that moment his position on the Elbe was insecure. But pride had fixed him there: perhaps, too, the same blind confidence in fortune. His force was collected at Leipsic. Leipsic, in the war of thirty years, had seen the great Gustavus fall in the arms of victory. Leipsic again witnessed a battle, on whose issue hung the independence, not of Germany alone, but of every state on the continent of Europe. Hard, long, and obstinate, was the conflict. On both sides were displayed an union of the rarest skill, discipline, and courage. As the flood-tide waves of ocean, in approaching the shore, rush, foam, thunder, break, retire, return -so broke, retired, and returned the allied battalions, impetuously propelled by the pressure of their brethren in arms. And as the whelming flood, a passage forced through the breach, rends, tears, scatters, dissipates, and bears away its unnumbered sands, so was the tyrant's host overwhelmed, scattered, and borne away.

And now behold a scene sublime. Three mighty monarchs lay down their crowns and swords. They fall on their knees. They raise their eyes and hands to heaven. They pour out thanksgiving to the God of Battles. To him, the King of kings, sole, selfexistent, in whom alone is might, majesty, and dominion. With one voice they cry, "The Lord is

Again the cannon roar. The long arches of the Louvre tremble. The battle rages. The heights of Montmartre are assailed. They are carried. The allies look down, victorious, on the lofty domes and spires of Paris. Lo! the capital of that nation which dictated ignominious terms of peace in Vienna and Berlin; the capital of that nation which wrapt in flames the capital of the Czars, is in the power of its foes. Their troops are in full march. The flushed soldier may soon satiate his lust and glut his vengeance. See before you, princes, the school of that wildering philosophy which undermined your thrones. In those sumptuous palaces dwell voluptuaries, who, professing philanthropy, love only themselves. There recline, on couches of down, those polished friends of man, who, revelling in the bosom of delight, see with indifference a beggar perish, and calmly issue orders for the conflagration of cities and the pillage of kingdoms. Listen to the voice of retributive justice. Throw loose the reins of discipline. Cry havoc! avenge! avenge! NoYonder is the white flag: Emblem of peace. It approaches. They supplicate mercy. Halt! Citizens of America, what, on such an occasion, would Napoleon have done? Interrogate his conduct during fifteen years of triumph. See this paragon of philosophers spread ruin around him-his iron heart insensible to pity-his cars deaf to the voice of religion and mercy. And now see two Christian monarchs, after granting pardon and protection, descend from the heights of Montmartre and march through the streets of that great city in peaceful triumph. See, following them, half a million of men, women, and children, who hail, with shouts of gratitude, Alexander the deliverer. They literally kiss his feet. And, like those of old, who approached the Saviour of the world, they touch, in transport, the hem of his garment and feel sanctified. He enters the temple of the living God. In humble imitation of his divine master, he proclaims pardon and peace. Those lips, which, victorious in the plain of Leipsic, cried out Glory to God, now, again victorious, complete the anthem of benediction. "Glory be to God in the highest, and on earth peace. Good will toward men." Let all nature join in the triumphant song, Glory! glory! to God; and on earth peace.

That royal house now reigns. The Bourbons are restored. Rejoice France! Spain! Portugal! You are governed by your legitimate kings-Europe! rejoice. The Bourbons are restored. The family of nations is completed. Peace, the dove descending from heaven, spreads over you her downy pinions. Nations of Europe, ye are her brethren once more. Embrace. Rejoice. And thou, too, my much wronged country, my dear abused, self-murdered conntry, bleeding as thou art, rejoice. The Bourbons are restored. Thy friends now reign. The long agony is over. The Bourbons are restored.

ALEXANDER GRAYDON, THE author of a choice volume of personal and revolutionary memoirs which has not been valued as it deserves to be, in our American literature, was a native of Pennsylvania, born in the then village of Bristol, April 10, 1752. His father was an Irishman, who engaged in business in Philadelphia, where he was recognised in society as a gentleman of spirit and literature. Alexander

For oaks and bramble have one common endThe foliage of the laurel and the rose.

BRITISH OFFICERS IN PHILADELPHIA BEFORE THE REVOLUTION.

But it was not alone by hostile alarms, that the good people of Philadelphia were annoyed. Their tranquillity had been likewise disturbed by the uncitizenlike conduct of a pair of British officers, who, for want of something better to do, had plunged themselves into an excess of intemperance; and in the plenitude of wine and hilarity, paraded the streets at all hours,

A la clarté de cieux dans l'ombre de la nuit,

to the no small terror of the sober and the timid. The firm of this duumvirate was Ogle and Friend, names always coupled together, like those of Castor and Pollux, or of Pylades and Orestes. But the cement which connected them, was scarcely so pure as that which had united those heroes of antiquity. It could hardly be called friendship, but was rather a confederacy in debauchery and riot, exemplified in a never ending round of frolic and fun. It was related of Ogle, that upon hiring a servant, he had stipulated with him that he should never get drunk but when his master was sober. But the fellow some time after requested his discharge, giving for his reason, that he had in truth no dislike to a social glass himself, but it had so happened, that the terms of the agreement had absolutely cut him off from any chance of ever indulging his propensity.

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Many are the pranks I have heard ascribed, either conjointly or separately, to this par nobile fratrum. That of Ogle's first appearance in Philadelphia, has been thus related to me by Mr. Will Richards, the apothecary, who, it is well known, was, from his size and manner, as fine a figure for Falstaff as the imagination can conceive. One afternoon," said he, an officer in full regimentals, booted and spurred, with a whip in his hand, spattered with mud from top to toe, and reeling under the effects of an overdose of liquor, made his entrance into the coffee-house, in a box of which I was sitting, perusing a newspaper. He was probably under the impression, that every man he was to meet would be a Quaker, and that a Quaker was no other than a licensed Simon Pure for his amusement: for no sooner had he entered, than throwing his arms about the neck of Mr. Joshua Fisher with the exclamation of "Ah, my dear Broadbrim, give me a kiss," he began to slaver him most lovingly. As Joshua was a good deal embarrassed by the salutation, and wholly unable to parry the assault or shake off the fond intruder, I interfered in his behalf and effected a separation, when Ogle, turning to me, cried out, Hah! my jolly fellow, give me a smack of your fat chops,' and immediately fell to hugging and kissing me, as he had done Fisher. But instead of the coyness he had shown, I hugged and kissed in my turn as hard as I was able, until my weight at length brought Ogle to the floor, and myself on top of him. Nevertheless, I kept kissing away, until nearly mashed and suffocated, he exclaimed, for Heaven's sake let me up, let me up, or you will smother me!' Having sufficiently tormented him and avenged Joshua Fisher, I permitted him to rise, when he seemed a good deal sobered, and finding that I was neither a Quaker nor wholly ignorant of the world, he evinced some respect for me, took a seat with me in a box, and entering into conversation, soon discovered, that however he might be disguised by intoxication, he well knew what belonged to the character of a gentleman. This," said Richards, "was the commencement of an acquaintance between us; and Captain Ogle some

times called to see me, upon which occasions he always behaved with the utmost propriety and de

corum."

This same coffee-house, the only one indeed in the city, was also the scene of another affray by Ogle and Friend, in conjunction. I know not what particular acts of mischief they had been guilty of, but they were very drunk, and their conduct so extremely disquieting and insulting to the peaceable citizens there assembled, that being no longer able to endure it, it was judged expedient to commit them; and Mr. Chew happening to be there, undertook, in virtue probably of his office of recorder, to write their commitment. But Ogle, facetiously joggling his elbow, and interrupting him with a repetition of the pitiful interjection of " Ah, now, Mr. Chew " he was driven from his gravity, and obliged to throw away the pen. It was then taken up by Alderman M- -n, with a determination to go through with the business, when the culprits reeling round him, and Ogle in particular, hanging over his shoulder and reading after him as he wrote, at length, with irresistible effect, hit upon an unfortu nate oversight of the alderman. Aye," says he, my father was a justice of peace too, but Le did not spell that word as you do. I remember perfectly well, that instead of an S he always used to spell CIRCUMSTANCE with a C." This sarcastic thrust at the scribe, entirely turned the tide in favor of the rioters; and the company being disarmed of their resentment, the alderman had no disposition to provoke farther criticism by going on with the mittimus.

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The irregularities of these gay rakes were not more eccentric than diversified; and the more extravagant they could render them, the better. At one time, they would drive full tilt through the streets in a chair; and upon one of these occasions, on approaching a boom which had been thrown across the street, in a part that was undergoing the operation of paving, they lashed forward their steed, and sousing against the spar with great violence, they were consequently hurled from their seats, like Don Quixote in his temerarious assault of the windmills. At another time, at Doctor Orme's the apothecary, where Ogle lodged, they, in emulation of the same mad hero at the puppet-show, laid about them with their canes upon the defenceless bottles and phials, at the same time assaulting a diminutive Maryland parson, whom, in their frolic, they kicked from the street-door to the kitchen. He was a fellow lodger of Ogle's; and, to make him some amends for the roughness of this usage, they shortly after took him drunk to the dancing assem bly, where, through the instrumentality of this unworthy son of the church, they contrived to excite a notable hubbub. Though they had escaped, as already mentioned, at the coffee-house, yet their repeated malfeasances had brought them within the notice of the civil authority; and they had more than once been in the clutches of the small mayor of the city. This was Mr. S

a

man of a squat, bandy-legged figure; and hence, by way of being revenged on him, they bribed a regro with a precisely similar pair of legs, to carry him a billet, which imported, that as the bearer had in vain searched the town for a pair of hose that might fit him, he now applied to his honour to be informed where he purchased His stockings

I have been told that General Lee, when a captain in the British service, had got involved in this vortex of dissipation; and although afterwards so strenuous an advocate for the civil rights of the Americans, had been made to smart severely for their violation, by the mayor's court of Philadel phic.

The common observation, that when men become soldiers they lose the character and feelings of citizens, was amply illustrated by the general conduct of the British officers in America. Their studied contempt of the mohairs, by which term all those who were not in uniform were distinguished, was manifest on all occasions; and it is by no means improbable, that the disgust then excited, might have more easily ripened into that harvest of discontent, which subsequent injuries called forth, and which terminated in a subduction of allegiance from the parent land.

JAMES SMITH, OF PENNSYLVANIA, THE SIGNER OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

Besides my fellow boarders there were several young men in the town (York, Pa.), whose company served to relieve the dreariness of my solitude; for such it was, compared with the scene from which I had removed. These, for the most part, are yet living, generally known and respected. There was

also in the place an oddity, who, though not to be classed with its young men, I sometimes fell in with. This was Mr. James Smith, the lawyer, then in considerable practice. He was probably between forty and fifty years of age, fond of his bottle and young company, and possessed of an original species of drollery. This, as may perhaps be said of all persons in this way, consisted more in the manner than the matter: for which reason, it is scarcely possible to convey a just notion of it to the reader. In him it much depended on an uncouthness of gesture, a certain ludicrous cast of countenance, and a drawling mode of utterance, which, taken in conjunction with his eccentric ideas, produced an effect irresistibly comical; though on an analysis it would be difficult to decide, whether the man or the saying most constituted the jest. The most trivial incident from his mouth was stamped with his originality: and in relating one evening how he had been disturbed in his office by a cow, he gave inconceivable zest to his narration, by his manner of telling how she thrust her nose into the door, and there roared like a Numidian lion. Like the picture of Garrick between tragedy and comedy, his phiz exhibited a struggle between tragedy and farce, in which the latter seemed on the eve of predominating. With a sufficiency of various reading to furnish him with materials for ridiculous allusions and incongruous combinations, he never was so successful as when he could find a learned pedant to play upon: and of all men, Judge Stedman, when mellow, was best calculated for his butt. The judge was a Scotchman, a man of reading and erudition, though extremely magisterial and dogmatical in his cups. This it was which gave point to the humor of Smith, who, as if desirous of coming in for his share of the glory, while Stedman was in full display of his historical knowledge, never failed to set him raving by some monstrous anachronism, such, for instance, as "don't you remember, Mr. Stedman, that terrible bloody battle which Alexander the Great fought with the Russians near the Straits of Babelmandel?" "What, sir!" said Stedman, repeating with the most ineffable contempt, "which Alexander the Great fought with the Russians! Where, mon, did you get your chronology?" "I think you will find it recorded, Mr. Stedman, in Thucydides or Herodotus." On another occasion, being asked for his authority for some enormous assertion, in which both space and time were fairly annihilated, with unshaken gravity he replied, "I am pretty sure I have seen an account of it, Mr. Stedman, in a High Dutch almanac, printed at Aleepo," his drawling way of pronouncing Aleppo.

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While every one at table was holding his sides at the expense of the judge, he, on his part, had no doubt that Smith was the object of laughter, as he was of his own unutterable disdain. Thus every thing was as it should be, all parties were pleased; the laughers were highly tickled, the self-complacency of the real dupe was flattered, and the sarcastic vein of the pretended one gratified; and this, without the smallest suspicion on the part of Stedman, who, residing in Philadelphia, was ignorant of Sinith's character, and destitute of penetration to develope it.

A PRISONER OF WAR IN EXILE, AT FLATBUSH.

Flat-bush was the place assigned for the officers of our regiment, as well as those of Magaw's. Here also, were stationed Colonels Miles, Atlee, Rawlings, and Major Williams; the indulgence of arranging ourselves agreeably to our respective circles of acquaintance having been granted by Mr. Loring, of whom, for my own part, I have nothing hard to say. Mr. Forrest and myself were billeted on a Mr. Jacob Suydam. His house was pretty large, consisting of buildings which appeared to have been erected at different times, the front and better part of which was in the occupation of Mr. Theophilact Bache and his family, from New York. Though we were in general civilly enough received, it cannot be supposed that we were very welcome to our Low Dutch hosts, whose habits of living were extremely parsimonious, and whose winter provision was barely sufficient for themselves. Had they been sure of receiving the two dollars a-week, it might have reconciled them to the measure; but payment appeared to them to depend on the success of our cause (Congress, or ourselves, being looked upon as the paymasters), and its failure, in their eyes, would in both cases induce a stoppage of pay. ment. They were, however, a people who seemed thoroughly disposed to submit to any power which might be set over them; and whatever might have been their propensities or demonstrations at an earlier stage of the contest, they were now the dutiful and loyal subjects of His Majesty George the Third; and entirely obedient to the behests of their military masters in New York. As it was at the instance of these that we were saddled upon them, they received us with the best grace they could put on. Their houses and beds were found clean, but their living extremely poor, and well calculated to teach the luxurious, how infinitely less than their pampered appetites require, is essential to the sustenation of life. In the apostrophe of Lucan,

O prodiga rerum,
Luxuries, nunquam parvo contenta paratu,
Et quæsitorum terra pelagoque ciborum
Ambitiosa fames, et lautæ gloria mense!
Discite quam parvo liceat producere vitam.
Thus translated by Rowe:

Behold! ye sons of luxury, behold!
Who scatter in excess your lavish gold;
You who the wealth of frugal ages waste,
T' indulge a wanton supercilious taste;
For whom all earth, all ocean are explor'd
To spread the various proud voluptuous board,
Behold! how little thrifty nature craves.

A sorry wash, made up of a sprinkling of bohea, and the darkest sugar on the verge of fluidity, with half-baked bread, fuel being among the scarcest articles at Flat-bush, and a little stale butter, constituted our breakfast. At our first coming, a small piece of pickled beef was occasionally boiled for dinner, but, to the beef which was soon consumed, succeeded clippers or clams, and our unvaried supper was supon or mush, sometimes with skimmed milk, but more generally with buttermilk blended with