Late that night, I received certain information, that the enemy had evacuated all their posts in the neighborhood, and immediately despatched a messenger to General Washington with the intelligence; in answer to which, I received his orders, very early next morning, to pursue and keep up the panic, and that he would cross at Trenton that day. From this circumstance, it appears that the General had taken his determination before your pretended information or advice from Trenton could have reached him.

In justification to myself, I have thought it necessary to point out your false state of facts, in these particulars; the multitude of lesser ones, relating to military matters, I shall pass over, as this publication is already necessarily lengthened beyond my first intention.

As I hinted, in my letter of 10th September last, that "charges of the same nature had been, some time since, made against you," by Arnold; you say, you "allow full weight to so respectable a connexion and testimony;" to which you made no reply, though from the rank and character of Arnold at that time, they merited your notice. Arnold having received his information from me, it cannot be concluded, that I meant by his testimony to strengthen my own assertion; but merely to show, that having before been charged, you did not reply; from which many believed it true. And when he apologized to me for inserting it in his defence without my permission, I remarked, that an apology was unnecessary, from the public manner in which I had mentioned it.

Arnold was commanding officer in this city, very generally visited by officers of the army, citizens and strangers. I received the usual civilities from him, and returned them; and often met him at the tables of gentlemen in the city. To my civilities, at that time, I thought him entitled from the signal services he had rendered his country; services infinitely superior to those you so much boast of; he stood high, as a military character, even in France, and after your prosecution, he was continued in command by Congress; appointed first, by the commander-in-chief, to the command of the left wing of the army, and afterwards to that important post of West Point, where his treacherous conduct exceeded, I fancy, even your own idea of his baseness. To what, then, do your insinuations amount? They cannot criminate me, without an implied censure on Congress and the commander-in-chief. But why contaminate my name, by connecting it, in this instance, with such a wretch? when you, yourself, at his trial, with a half-shamed face, seemed to apologize for being his prosecutor, and became his fulsome panegyrist. It consisted, however, with that artifice and cunning which has ever been the sum of your abilities, and the whole amount of your wisdom.

Your remarks on my letter of the 10th December, 1777, are so inconsistent, that I shall bestow a few observations on them. "So strong and virulent," you say, "was my antipathy to the constitution, and such my enmity to those who administered it, that you believe I would have preferred any government to that of Pennsylvania, if my person and property would have been equally secure;" and yet it seems, in the next sentence you say, "but it was our lot to meet again, a few days before the battle of Monmouth; here we were again united in confidence and danger." If you really thought I would prefer any government to that of Pennsylvania, why did you then take so much pains to show, that we again united in "confidence and danger," at the battle of Monmouth, so many months after I had discovered that virulent antipathy, and which now hath extorted such gross reflections?

You say, my breast was burning with disappointed ambition; but how does this appear, when, immediately upon the formation of the new government, I was appointed the first of three brigadiers, which created me commanding officer of the militia. Could my ambition be gratified further? But to obviate every objection, let me suppose you meant, that I wished to rise to power in the civil line,—which, however, has never been insinuated before,—let me here call to your memory, how easy the task was for any character to rise to the first offices of government. I confess, I do not think so meanly of myself, as to have dreaded any rivalship from some of the candidates of those days; nor do I mean, by this declaration, to insinuate any extraordinary merit, when I estimate mine by that of those I have alluded to. I could not have consented to make the sacrifices required; but you, however, and some others, as much opposed to the essential parts of the constitution as I was, freely made them, and broke through every obligation of faith and honour.

The charge you have brought against a party in the state, of an opposition to its constitution, deserves some attention. I will digress a little from my main subject to examine how far this charge is true, and how far the thing is in itself criminal.

Government is generally so reverenced among men, that those who attempt to subvert any system of it whatever, have to contend against a very natural prejudice. But this prejudice can only be in degree with the antiquity of its establishment; for modern error, how high soever its authority, has but little claim to our veneration. This concession made, could it be expected that our novel constitution, liable at first blush to so many important objections, should not have its opponents; but that in a moment it should be submitted to, as implicitly as if it had had the sanction of ages? What circumstance was there, in the production of this whimsical machine, that should silence, at once, all the remonstrances of reason and sense against it? Was it not worth a pause to examine, whether this coat, wove for ages, would fit us or our posterity before we put on; or whether this gift of our convention would not prove our destruction? From an apprehension that it would, an opposition was formed, that included a majority of the state. Did those who composed it, think it criminal to prevent the singular ideas of a convention, from being carried into execution, against an almost general sentiment; or did they not rather conceive it safe and better for the community still to go on in the administration of governmental affairs by those temporary expedients we had been in the habits of, until their constitution could be revised?

This idea, patriotic as it was, was defeated by the obstinate enthusiasm of some, who trembled for this New Jerusalem of their hopes, and by the scandalous desertion of others, and especially yourself. The ends of opposition being thus rendered unattainable, but at the hazard of convulsions, that might endanger the great American cause, the same virtue that began it, ended it, and it has long since ceased to act.

This is a well-known state of facts; but what it did not suit with your own by-purposes to admit, could not be expected from your integrity; you have, therefore, constantly kept up the alarm of a constitutional opposition, and, on every occasion, referred to this false cause, that honest and useful opposition which was created by your weak, though violent and tyrannical administration.

That you was called to the chair of government, by the unanimous vote of council and assembly, you have often boasted, with a view of conveying to the world an idea, that even the gentlemen opposed to the constitution approved the choice. But they neither esteemed you as a gentleman, nor approved your public conduct. They knew there was a majority in assembly in favour of your election, and as their grand object was the obtaining a resolution of that body, recommending the calling a convention for revising the constitution, some of the party entered into an engagement for this purpose, and your election was negotiated. You were to use your endeavours to prevail on the Council to enforce the recommendation of the assembly by a similar resolution. From your own acknowledgment at the City Tavern, the resolution of the Council was never obtained, or even moved for, by you, and for this flimsy reason, that no formal information, of such resolution having passed, had been communicated to you; though known to all the world; and that it could not be expected that Council would "tag" after the assembly, in a measure relating to the public. Yet you had the effrontery to assert, that "every engagement on your part," was strictly performed.

At this meeting, you say, you "in the most open manner called upon us, to support our imputations, and that you so effectually vindicated every part of your conduct, that every gentleman, (myself excepted,) acknowledged his mistake." I own I made no concessions, and if the reasons I then gave are not thought a sufficient justification to the world, of the opinion I had formed, I am content to admit that it was not only "singular," but "absurd."

After a reasonable pause, I remarked, that from the repeated conversations I had had with you, on this subject, you appeared to me as much opposed as I was, to the constitution, before the evacuation of the city; that you had refused to accept the appointment of Chief Justice, (because you could not in conscience take the oath;[L]) that a short time before the election, in 1778, you engaged yourself to the constitutional party, to serve in Council for the County, and to the party in the opposition, to serve in Assembly for the City; and being chosen in both instances, you hesitated above six weeks, (though often pressed to a resolution,) before you determined to accept your seat in Council;—depriving, during this time, the City of a vote in Assembly, while an important point was debated concerning the contested Chester election; and voluntarily advocating the question in favor of the constitutional party; that on the fate of this trial depended your hopes of succeeding to the President's chair; that a determination in favour of that party gave them a decided majority, and that you instantly accepted your seat in Council.—To which you replied, and in recapitulating my arguments, endeavoured to justify your conduct; but conscious of having failed in the capital points, you closed your remarks with some warm expressions, which conveyed the idea of a threat; of which I desired an explanation. After working up your passions to a degree little short of frenzy, you expressed yourself in the following terms: I mean this,—"If the publications traducing my public and private character are continued, I mean to apply to the law; but if this will not do me that justice, which in some instances it cannot do,—I know I have the affections and command of the fighting men of this state; and if necessary, I will make use of that influence, and call forth that force,—and if bloodshed should be the consequence be it on your own heads."

Such violent and unwarrantable expressions from the first magistrate of the state, and in the presence of the whole bench of justices, created the highest indignation, and were severely reprobated by several gentlemen present; which induced you afterwards to endeavour to soften your expressions and meaning.

But if it was singular or absurd, "to expect a President of the State to enter into the violence of party on my side of the question," let me oppose to this, the treachery of your conduct in deserting the party to which you was at first from ("conscientious" principles) attached, and yet, as President, enter into all the violence of party on the other side of the question.

Again, "upon our return to Philadelphia," you say, "I became the open and avowed patron of those who are distinguished by the appellation of tories; and my decisive attachment to the British Army,[N] and their adherents, "has marked every subsequent period of my life, too plainly to admit of doubt or denial." If you really entertained such sentiments, why did you, in the month of February, (after my marriage,) waiving the indignity offered to you in not paying the usual compliments of congratulation, upon your appointment, pay me the first visit, and thereby make advances towards a reconciliation? Such a condescension, so contrary to the usual forms, can scarcely be reconciled even to a character like yours.

Men who acquire popularity by means disgraceful to a gentleman, dare not hazard a sentiment that is not approved by the party with which he is connected. I have, on all occasions, and in all companies, private and public, delivered freely my political opinions; nor has the dread of losing the little popularity I possessed in Pennsylvania, ever induced me to make a sacrifice of my honour, by adopting opinions or measures which I disapproved, or thought injurious to my country. Esteeming it the highest honour to deserve the approbation of my fellow-citizens, I have ever been solicitous to obtain it. You and some others have industriously propagated reports for the purpose of injuring my reputation; but conscious that my political opinions and conduct will stand the test, upon the nicest scrutiny, and having never experienced any diminution of that esteem, respect and warmth of friendship, which my fellow-citizens have ever shown towards me, a refutation of such calumny is utterly needless.

From the whole of what I have here laid before the public, supported by the testimony of the most respectable witnesses, the following conclusions may fairly be deduced:

1. That the conversation alluded to, which I have asserted to have passed between us at Bristol, was mentioned by me in confidence to Col. Hamilton and some others of General Washington's family, in the year 1777; and therefore could not have originated at the time, you mention, or to gratify my resentment against you, as at that time, you acknowledge, no parties subsisted.

2. It could not have been invented to gratify my resentment for the attempt you made to evade the payment of Mr. Porter's order; because I did not make it public at the time, nor till several years afterwards, and you acknowledge, all that coolness was done away, and our former habits of friendship restored.

[TN] As is appears, by Mr. Clymer's testimony, that I mentioned it publicly at Mr. Hamilton's trial, which was before you were elected President of the state, it ought to be imputed to another cause than that which you have assigned.

4. As it appears, from Mr. Pryor's testimony, that I mentioned it at the Coffee House, in the hearing of some of your friends, we may reasonably conclude you were informed of it; and this conclusion is strengthened by your passing over unnoticed, the information contained in Major Lennox's testimony, which was related to you by Major Thomas Moore.

5. It cannot appear improbable that you should have held this conversation with me, as your expressions to Gen. Dickinson, Col. Nixon, and Doctor Rush, convey sentiments equally injurious to your reputation as a patriot and Adjutant General of the army.

6. As it fully appears, by the testimony of Col. Ellis and Mr. Davenport, and that of Col. Bradford, that you had communicated such sentiments to your brother-in-law, Mr. Pettit, and to Col. Bayard, contrary to your declaration, we may with propriety assert that you have forfeited that veracity, which is essential to the character of a gentleman.

Lastly, from the testimony of Major Lennox and Col. Nichols, it appears that you absolutly[TN] applied to Count Donop for protection, and that a particular and intimate friend of yours was included in it; and therefore, from this and the foregoing testimony, all pointing to the same object and to the same period, supporting and confirming each other, it cannot leave the least room to doubt the truth of my assertion.

In some instances, a man's general good conduct has had great weight to invalidate or weaken charges highly criminal; but unfortunately, yours can receive no aid from such circumstances. Dissimulation and cunning have for a time deceived the most discerning, but the snares you have laid for others will most probably accomplish your own destruction.

Having long since known how to estimate your character, I have not any where pretended, in this performance, to fix it at a higher value than what it generally passes current for; you have, since the term of your administration, repeatedly put yourself upon your country. Your name has been offered to the people for a seat in the legislature; to the legislature, for a seat in Congress; to Congress, for posts of Continental trust; but that name, its counterfeit gilding at length rubbed off, and the native colour of the contexture exposed, has depreciated, like the Continental money, with such velocity, that though a few years ago worth a President's chair, it would not, now purchase a constable's staff; nor is it more highly rated in the sphere of polite life, than in the great theatre of the world; for its unfortunate owner stands alone, unnoticed in the midst of company, with full leisure to reflect on the sensible effects of the loss of reputation.

My immediate purpose requires nothing further from me; but your administration, the theme of your own solitary praise, might not improperly have been touched upon, but that it is a field too extensive for me, and that I have not asperity enough in my nature to do justice to the subject. I will yet observe upon some matters in your pamphlet, not in direct connexion with one or the other subject; but which are extremly[TN] demonstrative of a temper in the writer to wish evil to the community, after the power of doing it has ceased.

You, who have ever been a rapacious lawyer, and have never omitted any means of amassing a fortune, have, with a truly consistent spirit, shown an implacable enmity to all those who are raised to a condition above want and dependence. And though you kick against the parallel drawn between you and the Cataline of antiquity, you have in this point proved its exactness; he haranguing in the circle of his conspirators, exasperates them against the opulent citizens of Rome; you, in your pamphlet, labor to create invidious distinctions, would pervert the order of well regulated society, and make fortune's larger gifts, or even its moderate blessings, criterions of disqualification for public trust and honours in Pennsylvania; and under a spacious description of men, offer with your sword to lead the indigent, the bankrupt, and the desperate, into all the authority of government. But in the shallowness of your understanding, you have mistaken the spirit of the times; it will not countenance or support a Cataline.

You would also, no doubt, as may be inferred from your pamphlet, you, who are so deficient in morality, draw your sword in religious quarrels, to bring you once more into play; but 'tis to no purpose you would raise an alarm, as a very great and respectable part of your opponents consist of persons belonging to that society, of which you profess yourself to be a member; and there is a general and commendable coolness and indifference for such quarrels, that will not easily take fire on your false and inflammatory suggestions; so that whatever you have catched at to raise you from the earth, has broke in your hands and brought you again to the ground.

JOHN CADWALADER.



VALLEY FORGE LETTERS,

AS

PUBLISHED IN THE EVENING JOURNAL.

1842.

From the Evening Journal.

MR. WHITNEY—At this distant day from the American Revolution, a new dawn seems to be breaking upon the darkness of that period, and much that has heretofore been shrouded in seemingly inscrutable mystery, is beginning to be made plain even to the naked vision. The "seventeen trunks" of revolutionary papers, a selection from which Colonel Beekman, the grandson and heir of Gen. George Clinton, has just published, in one of the New York papers, must necessarily contain much of exceeding value: and I should not be surprised if the Colonel were to receive a visit, at his place on Long Island, from Mr. William Bradford Reed, to request to be permitted to rummage their contents, and abstract or destroy any "document" that might likely prove prejudicial to the fame of his grandfather, the late General Joseph Reed. The Colonel must keep a sharp look out for Mr. Reed, and turn a deaf ear to his blandishments, when he arrives.

Doctor Johnson, in one of his Lives of the Poets, makes an observation strictly applicable to the claim of patriotism, which, originally set up for himself by General Reed, has been perpetuated for him by his descendants. Speaking of the boast a certain poet was accustomed to make, of the sternness with which he had driven back an ass laden with gold, that had sought to invade the citadel of his integrity, the Doctor remarked, "but the tale has too little evidence to deserve a disquisition; large offers and sturdy rejections are among the most common topics of falsehood." That portion of the quotation which I have italicised, fits the case of General Reed to a hair; but "the tale" of his patriotism, however "little evidence" there may to support it, does "deserve a disquisition," if only on account of the pertinacity with which it is endeavoured to engraft it upon the public mind.

I have already given the truth concerning General Reed's famous reply to the British commissioners, and I propose to follow it up with the publication of a few letters, interesting on account of the light which they shed upon our revolutionary history.

Many of the citizens of Philadelphia must remember Mrs. Sarah Kemp, who died in Race street, in 1820, at the advanced age of eighty-four years. Andrew Kemp, the only son of this respectable matron, entered the American army, almost at the very commencement of the struggle, and before, as his mother has often informed me, he had reached his majority. As he shall be my first witness against General Reed, it is proper to make the reader well acquainted with him. His gallantry, and a personal service which he had the good fortune to render to one of General Washingston's[TN] immediate staff, soon promoted him from the ranks, and he fought with great bravery, at the battles of White Plains, Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, Germantown and Monmouth. Sergeant Kemp was one of the garrison of Fort Mercer, under the command of Colonel Greene, when that fortress was assailed in the autumn of 1777, by the Hessian troops, commanded by Colonel Donop. In this affair, which, though not one of the most remarkable, was one of the most brilliant of the Revolution, Sergeant Kemp particularly distinguished himself, and was wounded slightly in the arm, and severely in the left thigh by a musket ball: at the subsequent capture of Fort Mercer by Cornwallis, Kemp was one of the few who fell into the hands of the enemy—the remainder of the garrison succeeding in safely evacuating the fort. In a few weeks, he managed to effect his escape from Howe's winter quarters at Philadelphia, and immediately joined the American army at Valley Forge. The privations of that encampment, dreadfully aggravated the sufferings of poor Kemp; but, after languishing during the season in one of the military hospitals, he resumed active service in the spring, and served in May under Lafayette at the affair of Barren Hill. At the battle of Monmouth, he fought with his usual intrepidity, but the fatigues of the engagement renewed the affection of his imperfectly healed leg; and, about three weeks after, he was obliged to submit to its amputation. Upon leaving the army, he received from General Washington himself a certificate of conduct and character, which I copy from the original before me.

Head Quarters, June 23, 1778.

Sergeant Andrew Kemp is personally known to me as a brave and faithful soldier, who has served in several engagements, and who desires his discharge only in consequence of the loss of a limb, which unfits him for further service. His dutiful conduct is reported to me to be equal to his bravery; and he retires from the army with my good opinion and that of all whom I have heard speak of him.

(Signed,) G. WASHINGTON.

From among other testimonials to Mr. Kemp's worth and conduct, which formed to her dying day, the pride and solace of his aged mother, I select the following, given by Col. Samuel Smith, the late Mayor of Baltimore, and the gallant defender of Fort Mifflin against the six days' attacks of the British.

"Andrew Kemp has served with me three times; the last nearly four months. He was discharged from the army last month, in consequence of the loss of his leg and other bodily infirmities. I have always found his conduct exemplary. He came to me with high recommendations from officers whom he had previously served with, and fully realized what they had prepared me to expect from him.

(Signed,) SAMUEL SMITH. September 3, 1778."

This brave fellow fell a victim to his benevolent daring, during the prevalence of the yellow fever in this city, in 1798. Upon the death of his mother, the certificates of character which I have transcribed, and a number of his letters, of various dates, written while he was in the army, passed into the hands of the veteran, to whom in my former article, I referred, but whose name I am not yet at liberty to mention. From among them, I make two selections—the first a letter to his mother, who then resided in Chester County.

Camp, June 13th; 1788.

My Dear Mother,—You must be very uneasy not hearing from me so long, and the only wonder is that I am alive to give any account of myself. After my escape from Philadelphia, last November, I wrote to you, but whether you received my letter or not I cannot tell, for I have never heard a word of you since. We have had a dreadful time of it through the winter at Valley Forge. Sometimes for a week at a time with nothing but frozen potatoes, and even worse off still for clothing; sometimes the men obliged to sleep by turns for want of blankets to cover the whole, and the rest keeping watch by the fires. There is hardly a man whose feet have not been frost bitten. I have been laid by nearly the whole time on account of my leg, from which I suffered very much; and Doctor Le Brean insisted upon taking it off, but I would not suffer him; for which I have great reason to be joyful, for it is now nearly as well as ever, except a little stiffness, particularly after marching. But our distress from want of food and comfortable raiment, was nothing compared to the grumbling of some of the men, and I am sorry to say, of some of the officers. I really thought we should have a meeting once or twice; but we weathered through without it. Some hard things are said since about some of the officers, but the whole talk of the army is now about General Reed. There have been a good many attempts to conceal it from the men, but it has pretty much leaked out. This spring, it seems, King George sent over some Commissioners, as they call them, to endeavour to make a peace with us; and it turns out that General Reed has been in secret correspondence with them all the time, and was offered large amounts to play into their hands; but the bargain was broken off by his wanting more than they were willing to give. I know this much for certain; that one of their letters was taken to General Washington, and that the men were all called up at the dead of night, by beat of drum, and most of the officers called to Head Quarters. In the morning, General Reed was placed under guard, but released in about two hours. The letter was from one of the British Commissioners, in answer to one of his—he gave some explation[TN], but it did not satisfy the General, but he was obliged to accept it, as the contrary could not be proved. I heard Captain Anderson tell Dr. Le Brean, that General Washington was fully satisfied that Reed had been on the very point of betraying us all to the British, but that it could not be fully proved; and at such a time, it was better to keep a strict eye upon him, without getting the army into disgrace by exposure.

"Near the last of May, we had a smart little affair with the British at Barren Hill; it was the first time I was under marching orders since I left the hospital. The British army came very near surprising us after night—two of the sentinels of the picket guard having fallen asleep on their posts. But we managed to get across the river again with very little loss, only eight men killed and wounded, and three prisoners. I made a narrow escape, for I heard a bullet whistling by my ear as close as it could, without hitting. All well at home, I hope. Tell Sally not to forget to knit me a supply of woollen stockings, and a couple pair of mittens for next winter, for I dread the idea of another Valley Forge; and give her and Ann my kind love.

"From your affectionate son, "ANDREW KEMP."



My object in giving this introductory letter is to show Mr. William B. Reed that the treachery of his grandfather was understood by the army at large, and that the knowledge of it was not confined to a few leading officers. Documents of a more precise, specific, and important character, are in my possession, or within my means of access; and shall seasonably appear; but, unlike "McDonough," I do not choose to put my best foot foremost, and limp ever aftewards[TN]. I subjoin another letter from Sergeant Kemp, for the edification of Mr. Reed.

"Monmouth Court House, N. J., July 2d, 1778."

"Dear Mother,—I am laid up again, but after the fatigues of a great battle, and a great victory, which we fought on the 28th of June,—James Maris, who had his hand shattered by a bullet, has leave of absence for four weeks; and I drop a few lines by the opportunity which his going gives me. God be thanked, we have had a glorious victory! The British troops, commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, and ours by General Washington, were nearly matched—say ten thousand each. We fought from the forenoon till nigh dark; and our whole loss, killed and missing, is short of seventy, while the British lost about three hundred, and among them one Colonel Monks or Monkston. I have no great time for particulars. The men behaved very nobly; and the morning after, when we found that the British had decamped over night, the General [Washington,] thanked us all, from horseback. But one thing there is which has occasioned much disturbance among us. I mean the conduct of General Lee, who attempted to retreat, and who has since been put under order, to be court martialed.

"Then there's that General Reed has been behaving very strangely again. Not a man nor officer in the army that does not hate the sight of him; we all believe that he came very near betraying us, only that the General [Washington] found him out in time. We all remember Valley Forge last winter. Before the battle began, I myself heard Gen. Washington whisper to General Greene and Wayne, to keep a sharp eye upon Reed's movements, and if he made any suspicious attempt, to order him under arrest, and shoot him if he resisted. During the whole battle, I never saw him; but after the last gun was fired, and when it was almost dark, General Reed suddenly made his appearance from the rear, and gave out that he had just had a horse shot in two under him, and asked for two men to go and remove his saddle and holsters. I was one of them; we examined the horse very carefully, and found him to be without hurt or scratch; and he had plain enough died from mere heat, which killed several horses and a number of men during the day. The story has got wind—some laugh, but others shake their heads about it. Jim Maris heard General Washington say to General Wayne in the evening, that he abhorred the very sight of Reed, and could never again put the least faith in him. This is not the first time that General Reed has showed the white feather. He pretended to have a horse killed under him, in the same way at the Battle of Brandywine, and had two men put in irons for talking about it. I am afraid my leg is going to give me a good deal of trouble again It is very much swollen, and discharges continually. They have me on the sick list. My best love to Sarah and Ann.

"Your dutitful[TN] son, (Signed) "ANDREW KEMP."



Having given the testimony of Sergeant Kemp, I will now have the pleasure of introducing to the notice of Mr. William B. Reed a letter from Col. Samuel Smith, to his old friend in arms, Colonel ——, by whom I have been so kindly supplied with much of the reminiscences which I have given to the readers of the Journal, and who had addressed to Col. Smith a letter, the nature and object of which will best be explained by the following reply:

"Senate Chamber, Washington, Feb. 15th, 1832.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,—Yours of the 9th was received yesterday, having been forwarded to me by my family from Baltimore, to which place you had addressed it, forgetting my still being in public life at Washington. I suppose you think that so old a man, and one who has led so busy and active a life, should take the evening of his days to his comfort and quiet reflection, and I am not sure but that you are right. Public life ought to have but little charms for either you or me; we have both seen enough of active service, and should devote the remnant of time which is left us, to settling our accounts with this world, and preparing for a better.

"I am gratified to hear of the task in which you tell me you are engaged. I do not know that it is in my power to afford you much of the assistance which you seem to think I can give; but such information as I can communicate is very cheerfully at your service. Upon my return to Baltimore, I will examine my papers; and whatever letters I can spare, which I may think likely to aid you in your labors, or illustrate the times of which you propose to write, shall be forwarded to your direction.

"I agree with you that many of the men, and not few of the events, of the Revolution, are very imperfectly understood. Take General Washington himself, for example: he is represented as having been cold and repulsive in his manner, when the very reverse was the fact. True, he was dignified and reserved, but always courteous, and, what I admired above all, always sincere. I never knew a man capable of stronger attachments; he had none of the vices of humanity, and fewer of its weaknesses than any man I ever knew. I do not believe Mr. Jefferson meant to be unjust; but the character drawn of Washington, which appears in his recently published papers and correspondence, falls, in all respects, very far short of doing him justice. Mr. Jefferson had not the sort of mind which was entirely capable of appreciating, or even exactly understanding, a character like that of Washington's. I saw much of the old General in his latter days; visited him several times at Mount Vernon, and frequently at Washington. Doctor Craih, (my near connexion by marriage,) was long his physician and intimate friend, and was in attendance upon his death-bed. He has given me anecdotes innumerable of Washington's generosity and kindness of heart, which, though, not known to the world, ought to be. Of these, I will write to you more fully from home.

"I can communicate but little concerning Gen. Wayne, which you do not know already. His son, who lives somewhere in your state, I should take to be a proper person to whom to apply. I wish it were in my power to answer more fully than I can, your inquiries concerning General Reed. My personal acquaintance with him was limited. I shared in the deep dislike with which he was regarded, and his negotiations with the British commissioners, in the spring of 1778, made him obnoxious to the whole army, from the commander-in-chief to the lowest subaltern. You and I talked this matter over nearly fifty years since, and I have found nothing to change, but much to confirm, my opinions. It is a little too bad that this man should be reverenced by posterity as one of the purest of the men of the revolution, when you and I, and all who were really active in those times, know that nothing but accident prevented his taking the start of Benedict Arnold. Though not communicative, General Washington was always candid, and upon the subject of Reed's premeditated betrayal of the country to England, he has frequently conversed with me very freely. None of the correspondence between Reed and the British commissioners, fell into his hands except the letter from Governor Johnston, and an enclosed note in cypher from Lord Carlisle, but these contained sufficient to assure Washington that a long correspondence had passed—that proposals had been made and debated, and that Reed had finally submitted a proposition which the commissioners were endeavouring to reduce. With the explanation Reed gave you are familiar. No one believed it, but it passed muster, for the only proofs which at the time could be had, were the intercepted papers. But ever after, Washington regarded Reed with great dislike, and treated him with a manner strictly marked by the display of his feelings. I was present when General Washington took his final leave of his officers at New York, after the close of the revolution, in the winter of 1783. The general's eyes streamed with tears, he grasped each officer by the hand, but when Reed approached him with extended hand, he started as if bitten by a serpent, made a cold bow, and passed on. Afterwards, at Annapolis, where Congress was then sitting, I was present when General Reed was repeating to some half a dozen of delegates, the old story of his refusal of the commissioner's offer. Washington, who was within three yards of him, turned away, and remarked to General Knox, "I know the fellow well; he wanted but a price, and an opportunity, to play us false as Arnold," and passed out of the room. There was a general titter, and upon Reed's enquiring of General Knox what it was that General W. had remarked, Knox replied, "If you did not hear it, I advise you to follow the general, and request him to repeat his observation." Reed was not a fighting man. I do not say that he was a coward, but he was always very careful of his person. His visit to England in 1784, I could never understand. His circumstances, just before, were very much embarrassed, he had borrowed of all who were willing to lend, and he paid nobody. Immediately upon his return, he paid off all his debts, including one of three thousand dollars to General Wayne, and commenced speculating in real estate largly[TN], when he was taken ill and died.

I have given you very near all I have concerning this person. I have anecdotes from others, of which I will inform you hereafter; as also, the particulars of several conversations which I had with Washington respecting him. I have always, from principle, been opposed to making mischief; but I have always, at the same time, been opposed to trickery and unfounded pretensions. Why the survivors of the Revolution have so long permitted General Reed's treachery and baseness to be glossed over, and himself converted into a patriot, is to me a mystery; but the veil must be raised at last, and I know of no one more capable of performing the task than yourself.

"Let me hear often from you—and always be assured that I am sincerely your friend,

SAMUEL SMITH.

I will close my budget of "documents" as "McDonough" would call them, for the present. When I open it again, the information to be drawn forth will be even more definite than that just given, and possibly, even still less palatable to Mr. Reed. He will pardon me for troubling him with two questions: Among the papers left by your grandfather, did you ever come across a copy of a very remarkable correspondence had between that person and General Anthony Wayne in 1781? If yea, why have you withheld it from publication? Although you can answer this last question, I cannot; but I will tell you, Mr. Reed, what I can do: I can lay my hands upon a copy of the same correspondence, and I propose to entertain the readers of the Journal with a few selections, upon some not very distant occasion.

In Mr. Reed's selection of a period of time to be illustrated by the labors of "McDonough," it appears to me he has been unfortunate. If he had gone further back, he might have recounted some of the real exploits of his grandfather, and spared me the labor which his deficiencies have compelled me to undertake. If he had come a little further down, he might have dilated upon the performances of his father, a Recorder of the city of Philadelphia, and Treasurer and Secretary of the University of Pennsylvania. That labor, also, I fear, will devolve upon me.

VALLEY FORGE.

Monday, Sept. 25, 1842.

From the Evening Journal.

MR. WHITNEY—The communication of "McDonough" (alias U. S. Bank Reed,) in this Morning's Court Chronicle, manifests that there is no small degree of fluttering among the wounded pigeons of the "Holy Alliance." The assumption of "McDonough" that you and "Valley Forge" are one and the same person, is a more novel than logical mode of disproving the truth of my allegations. But let Mr. Reed rest easy upon that score. Who I am, is very little to the purpose; what I assert is more germain to the matter—and let this lacquay of Nicholas Biddle deny that if he dare, or disprove it if he can. If my charges are true, the identity of their author with the editor of the Evening Journal could not detract from their truth; if false, a more obvious as well as conclusive mode of establishing their falsity presents itself.

But the truth is, that no arrow which has been shot into the camp of the "Holy Alliance" rankles more deeply, or has worked worse execution, than the exposure of the authorship of "McDonough." Not that Mr. Reed is by any means, either intellectually or extrinsically, the most formidable member of the combination; but now it is known that he is the author of those attacks upon the character of a good citizen, of a man against whom for years the minions of the Bank have been directing their warfare without the ability to discover a crevice in his coat of mail, the arm of the puny assailant falls paralyzed to his side, and his intended victim laughs at him in a tone of scorn, in which the whole community participates.

William B. Reed to prate of patriotism! William B. Reed to declaim upon honor and patriotism! For the chimney-sweep to prate of cleanliness would not be more anomalous. With what grace does the defence of the United States Bank come from this "McDonough" of the Chronicle, when we know him to be the veriest lick-spittle that Nicholas Biddle, in his day of pride and power, ever retained in his service? As the friend of Nicholas Biddle, as his purchased tool and agent, rather, Mr. Reed has never, for an instant, hesitated to sacrifice to the promotion of the interests of the Bank, every public trust which for the time being was confided to his keeping. Why is it that Mr. Reed has never yet explained away or answered the very extraordinary and specific disclosures of bribery which a correspondent of the Ledger made against him in the summer of 1841? Disclosures so astonishing that the eyes of the public, although long accustomed to look upon the doings of the man with distrust, dilated with astonishment. He was accused by the correspondent of the Ledger with having as a member of the House of Representatives, accepted bribes from the Bank of the United States; the several amounts were specified; documents were even refered[TN] to; and yet Mr. Reed, instead of maintaining his good ground and confronting his accuser, flies the city, absents himself for some time upon the plea of a previously arranged excursion of pleasure; and when, after his return, driven at length to a show of explanation, he parades in print an evasion of charges, so paltry that its sophistry would degrade the merest pettifoger in Mr. Biddle's Court of Criminal Sessions.

But since Mr. William B. Reed, alias Mr. U. S. B. McDonough, is so pure a patriot, and has such a holy horror of "treason" and "traitors," I will give him a few facts upon which to reflect, and with which he may enrich and illustrate his future lucubrations.

Fact No. 1.—That Mr. William B. Reed is, or claims to be, the grandson of General Joseph Reed, of Revolutionary memory.

Fact No. 2.—That Mr. William B. Reed is feelingly alive upon the subject of his grandfather's memory, and has devoted the labors of nearly his whole life to establish the popular delusion that his grandfather's patriotism underwent the severest test and ordeal of the revolutionary struggle.

Fact No. 3.—That Mr. William B. Reed has written essays, reviews and paragraphs innumerable, to induce the public to believe, that when in 1778 or 1779, Governor Johnstone and the other British Commissioners, proposed to General Reed a reward of 10,000 pounds sterling, and a lucrative office, upon condition that he would lend himself to the views of Great Britain, he indignantly spurned the proposal, and replied, "I am not worth the purchase, but such as I am, King George is not rich enough to make it."

Fact No. 4.—That no such proposal was ever made to General Joseph Reed, and that General Joseph Reed never made any such reply.

Fact No. 5.—That General Joseph Reed endeavoured to effect a negotiation with the British Commissioners, and actually commenced it, to ascertain what he might expect, in money and office, in case he succeeded in effecting a reconciliation between the colonies and the mother country, or in other words, that he would be instrumental in causing the revolted colonies to return to their allegiance to Great Britain!

Fact No. 6.—That General Joseph Reed, after much chaffering as to the price, finally proffered his services to the British Commissioners, to effect the objects mentioned in "Fact No. 5," for the sum of 10,000 pounds sterling in hand, a Chief Justiceship, and the right to a tract of land West and North-West of the then city of Philadelphia, upon a part of which the Cherry Hill Penitentiary is now erected, and the whole of which, is at this time probably worth from five to seven millions of dollars.

Fact No. 7.—That while this negotiation was pending, and while the hucksters were haggling as to the terms upon which it should close, it came to the ears of the American Commander-in-Chief, that General Reed was engaged in a very suspicious correspondence with the British Commissioners; that General Washington sent for General Reed, and in the presence of his staff, informed him of what he had heard, and demanded an explanation; and that General Reed, finding denial out of the question, admitted that overtures had been made to him by Governor Johnstone and his colleagues, but that he had replied to them; "I am not worth the purchase, but such as I am, King George is not rich enough to make it."

Fact No. 8.—That this patriotic reply of General Joseph Reed, to the attributed overtures of the British Commissioners, had its sole origin in the explanation with which he sought to dispel the suspicions of General Washington; that General Washington ever after continued to regard him with great distrust; and that several years subsequently, when General Reed, in the presence of General Washington, was descanting upon the patriotic reply with which he had foiled the British Commissioners, General Washington turned away in disgust, and remarked to a friend, in a tone of voice sufficiently audible to be heard by all present—"I know the fellow well, and am satisfied that he wanted but a price and an opportunity to play us as false as Arnold."

When Mr. Reed shall have sufficiently pondered over the facts thus enumerated, I shall descend the ladder a step from his grandfather, and come to his more immediate progenitor! Of him, I shall have the great question to ask—what is the reason of his aversion to sunshine, that he secludes himself all day like an owl or a bat? But the grandfather will suffice for the present. Mr. Reed has certainly taken uncommon pains to keep up the public delusion upon this subject. Let him know (what he will soon know to his mortification,) that there yet survives a veteran of the revolution—one whose mental faculties are undimmed by age—whose very physical frame, time has treated with tenderness and respect—whose keen and lively intelligence retains its ancient vigour—a Revolutionary soldier, who well knew Joseph Reed; who equally well knew George Washington; and who intends to give to the world, at no very distant day, his knowledge of them, and of much beside.

Mr. Reed has fair warning—let him look to it.

Monday, Sept. 19, 1842. VALLEY FORGE.

From the Evening Journal.

MR. WHITNEY:—Since your publication of my last, "McDonough" has slacked his fire wonderfully. It is surprising how one's tone becomes altered after the discovery is made that the former idea of invulnerability was a great mistake. The home truths pressed upon Mr. William Bradford Reed (I believe this is the first time that the public have been made acquainted with the learned gentleman's name in full) have proved to be of unpalatable flavor and difficult digestion; and it is not, therefore to be wondered at that they should have for him no relish. I have not yet done with the revolutionary reminiscences of his grandfather; that worthy whom "King George was not rich enough to buy," although, as he himself modestly admitted, he was "not worth purchasing:"

The writer of this paragraph had an opportunity, very many years since, when Mr. Reed was a student of the Pennsylvania University, of becoming somewhat intimately acquainted with his bent of mind; and if there ever was a school-boy despised and detested by his fellows, William was that youth. "The boy's the father of the man," and those who have known him only in his ripened years, if they apply the truth of this axiom, will have no difficulty in correctly conjecturing what must have been his early youth. Even then his predominant weakness was to almost daily, and by the hour, expatiate upon the merits of his great "grandfather," and to entertain boys, smaller and younger than himself, with the revolutionary exploits—more numerous and diversified far than those with a narration of which Othello beguiled the fair Desdemona, performed by that distinguished personage: and in particular, how "the General" had repulsed the proffered bribe of the Treasury of Great Britain, and his pick and choice of the most lucrative office in the Colonies.

Down to this day, this has continued to be the habit of Mr. Reed; and to such an extent has he indulged it, that he has become the butt and laughing stock of his acquaintance.

"O, wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us! It wad frae manie a blunder free us, An foolish notion!"

The extraordinary pains taken by Mr. Reed, to circulate the notion of his grandfather's more than Roman patriotism, would, of itself, be a circumstance calculated to induce suspicion of their being "something rotten in Denmark;" but, fortunately for the truth of history, the proofs of General Reed's treachery and meditated "treason," [TN](if not actual treason, are extant—and the veteran, to whom in my last I referred, will, in due time, give them to the world. The descendants of General Reed have succeeded long enough in imposing upon the American people, as a patriot and a hero of the "times that tried men's souls," a wretch, who, in the emphatic language of General Washington, spoke in his presence and hearing, "wanted but a price and an opportunity to play us false as Arnold!" who, while his fellow soldiers were stinted of food and scant of clothing, was in actual treaty with the British Commissioners, to betray the American Army, and their Commander-in-Chief, and their cause, and their Country, to Great Britain, for the consideration of ten thousand pounds sterling, a judicial office, and a tract of land!!!

By a monstrous suppression of truth, and an adroit perversion of the explanation which General Reed gave to the demands of the American Commander-in-Chief, respecting his correspondence with the British Commissioners, his descendants have managed, so far, with tolerably general success, to thrust into the ranks of the Carrolls and Hancocks, the Putnams and Warrens of the Revolution, a "traitor," who entered into the struggle as a matter of speculation; and who, from the date of his appointment, in 1774, as one of the Committee of Correspondence of Philadelphia, down to the detection of the fact, some years after, that he was engaged in a correspondence with the British Commissioners, watched with untiring vigilance, for a proper "opportunity" to betray, for a sufficient "price," the cause, and the country, to the tender mercies of George the Third and his ministry! There is scarcely a Review or Magazine, published in the country, into which, under the pretext of reviewing some publication, Mr. William B. Reed has not contrived to obtrude some panegyric of his grandfather's patriotism—fulsome, even if true, but most monstrous when considered with reference to its unworthy object.

Not content with chaunting Gen. Reed's praise as an "invisible singer," Mr. Reed has not hesitated to take the field openly, and in person, and sound the trumpet in the ears and before the eyes of the astonished lookers on. Before every literary or collegiate association which he has been called on, or finefied to have himself invited to address, the eternal burden of his song has been, "I am the grandson of the great and good patriot, General Joseph Reed, of revolutionary memory, who replied to the emissaries of Great Britain, when they offered him his own terms to further the views of England, 'I am not worth the purchase, but poor as I am, King George is not rich enough to make it.'" At New York, a few years since—afterwards, in the Musical Fund Hall, in this city—more recently at Dickinson College—quite lately at Harvard University, in short, everywhere, and on all occasions, the self same tune has lulled his audiences into a general slumber. How any one whose cheek is not formed of brass, can stand up as Mr. Reed has accustomed himself to do, and thus dole out, on all occasions, and before all assemblies, the patriotism of a grandfather for whose "treason" he should blush, I am at a loss to imagine. Even if deserved modesty ought to insinuate that the tribute would be more appropriately paid, and in better taste, by other voices.

But the strongest part of all is, that Mr. Reed, with that full knowledge which I know him to possess (and which I will satisfy him that I know him to possess) of his grandfather's traitorous designs and conduct, should, nevertheless, have succeeded in steeling himself to the habit which has made him so supremely and universally ridiculous.

Whenever it is announced that a new work is in preparation, in any way connected with the events of the American Revolution, poor Mr. William B. Reed "gets the fidgets." He throws business, as Macbeth did physic,—to the dogs; he can hardly delay for the introduction of a supply of clean linen into his carpet-bag; but, jumping into the next steamboat or railroad car, he travels post-haste till he has reached the residence of the author, whom he never leaves till he has fully satisfied himself that the projected work is to contain nothing that can detract from the spurious fame of General Reed, or call into question the truth of his attributed reply to the British Commissioners. Poor Mr. Jared Sparks must have had a hard time of annoyance during the long series of years in which he was engaged in preparing for the press his editions of the correspondence of Washington and Franklin. Mr. Bancroft, the author of the History of the United States, is, at present, a particularly prominent object of Mr. Reed's dread. Indefatigable in his researches he cannot have failed to become possessed of some of the evidences of General Reed's "treason," and, stern in his impartiality, it is not to be supposed that he will hesitate to place before the world the character and doings of this miscreant in their true colours. Fearful of this, Mr. Reed has long been engaged in playing the toady to Mr. Bancroft: with what success thus far, remains to be seen: but one thing is certain, that Mr. Bancroft will have placed in his hands, in time to inform him fully for his preparation of that volume of his history in which it will become necessary for him to introduce the name of General Joseph Reed, letters and documents that will establish the "treason" of that worthy beyond a doubt.

The last volume of Mr. Bancroft's work comes down no later than 1784; so that there will probably appear another volume before the period of General Reed's exploits will become the subject of his composition; and of this length of time Mr. Reed will doubtless endeavor to take advantage and make good use. He has just made a formidable demonstration upon Mr. Bancroft. "At the recent literary festival at Cambridge," (to borrow the language of Mr Reed, contained in his late letter to the editors of the National Intelligencer, concerning Mr. Graham, the historian,) Mr. Reed's toadying of Mr. Bancroft was the subject of general comment. Not content with the display of his fulsome civilities on that occasion, Mr. Reed has since forced an opportunity of volunteering to the editors of the National Intelligencer, the letter to which I have just alluded; in which under the pretext of honouring the memory of the late James Graham, Esq., the English author of a History of American Colonies, Mr. Bancroft is plastered with praise. It is thus that Mr. Reed seeks either to impose upon Mr. Bancroft the same "Romance of American History," in which the grandfather is the principal personage, with which he flatters himself he has duped every body else, or to disarm him of any intention of publishing the true history of his connection with the British Commissioners.—And what most of all enhances the meanness of Mr. Reed's conduct is the fact, that, but a year or two since, he was accustomed, at the Whig political meetings of this city, to make Mr. Bancroft (who then held the office of Collector of the Port of Boston, and was a prominent Democrat,) the especial object of his abuse, lavished upon him in the most unmeasured terms.

Such is the man, who, with a thorough knowledge of his grandfather's delinquencies, persists in upholding him to the world as a true and sterling patriot; who, knowing him to be a "Traitor," steeped in "Treason" to the very eyelids, and seeking to barter away his country and its liberties for British gold and office, represents him, unblushingly, as the worthy compeer of Washington, a fellow labourer in the same vineyard, toiling from the rising to the setting of the sun!!! But Mr. Reed's race of eulogy of his ancestors is nearly run. The proof of that man's treachery, long known to the few, will soon be promulgated to the many—to the WORLD. How then, will Mr. William B. Reed feel, when he remembers his itinerant career of laudation; his journeyings by sea and by land, that the trumpet of General Joseph Reed's praises might be sounded? His essays, reviews, addresses, and heaven only knows what all besides? But, above all, how will he then feel when he remembers that, under the stolen name of a naval hero of the Late War, he, this worthy descendant of a Traitor and Tory of the Revolution, once devoted whole weeks to the malignant endeavour to fasten upon a pure and unoffending citizen the very crime of "Treason," of which he knew his own grandfather to have been guilty?

With one or two little anecdotes, (the character of which may somewhat surprise Mr. Reed at the extent and accuracy of my information,) I close for the present. I will select those which Mr. Reed has the best reasons for knowing to be true. During the visit of Lafayette to this country, the father of Mr. William B. Reed, (Mr. Joseph Reed, the late Recorder of Philadelphia,) called on the General at his quarters, in this city, and requested the honour of a private interview. The General (who had been waited upon by Mr. Reed before, in company with the authorities, and other citizens) intimated his numerous and pressing engagements; but Mr. Reed persisting, the interview was granted; one not strictly private, however, there being two other gentlemen present. Mr. Reed informed the General that his object was to obtain from him some revolutionary anecdotes, of which he was convinced he must possess a stock, of his father, the late General Joseph Reed. General Lafayette's countenance immediately fell: he endeavoured politely to evade Mr. Reed's request; at last, as Mr. Reed would take nothing short of downright refusal, the General was, at length, compelled to remark, "I am sorry to say, sir, that I am acquainted with no anecdotes of the late General Reed which it would be pleasant for his son or any of his friends to hear." Mr. R. having bowed himself out of the room in great confusion, the General remarked to one of the gentleman present, in surprise, "This is very strange! Can it be possible that Mr. Reed is ignorant of the opinion which the officers of the Revolution entertained of his father?" And now for another, in which Mr. William B. Reed himself figured. A year or two before the death of Bishop White, he called on the venerable prelate and made a request precisely similar to that with which his father had troubled General Lafayette. Anxious to spare his feelings, the good Bishop endeavoured to change the subject; but, no other mode offering of escaping from the pertinacity of Mr. Reed, he said to him, "Young man, upon the subject of your grandfather, the least that's said, will be soonest mended!"

In my next, I will so far follow the example of McDonough, as to publish a few "Documents," the original of which will be consigned, before long, to Mr. Bancroft.

VALLEY FORGE.

Sept. 23d, 1842.

From the Evening Journal,

MR. WHITNEY:—The Jeremiads of the Forum and the Evening Courier shall not deter me from the task which I have deliberately assumed, and which I mean to carry out, of exposing the treachery of the late General Joseph Reed, and the delinquencies of his living grandson, Mr. William Bradford Reed. Why, instead of deprecation, do not these journals give disproof? Is a fellow to be canonized as a saint, because he is no longer of the living? Then let all history be rewritten, and let the puling mawkishness which the hypocrites call manly indignation, reject from the page of history the infamy of a Nero, the cruelty of a Tiberius, and the treason of an Arnold. If it be proper for the entertainment or instruction of posterity, that the vices and crimes of the men of history shall be faithfully detailed, why should not the "treason" of General Reed, contemplated or effected, be spread upon his country's annals? Above all, when he and his descendants have adroitly disguised his villainy with the varnish of incorruptible patriotism, why should the hand which has the power to tear off the mask, and expose the enormity of guilt, be made to fall, self-withheld and self-paralyzed, from the effort? These are questions which admit of but one reply. I shall go on, and in continuation of my developments, I here subjoin another letter from Col. Samuel Smith to the same gentleman to whom was addressed his last.

Baltimore, October 2d, 1832.

MY DEAR COLONEL—I acknowledge the receipt of your two very kind letters since I left Washington, and thank you for the acceptable accompaniment of the last. Also, for the pamphlet on Cholera which you have sent—I loaned it to several of our medical gentlemen, and they all seem to think highly of it. Our people have been much alarmed, and I think with good reason. For my own part, I entertain but little uneasiness. I have lived a long life, and though I am far from tired of it, I am ready to go whenever it pleases him who gave it to take it away.

Looking over my paper, I have directed copies to be made up such as seem adapted to your purpose. These, and some original, I will send to your direction, whenever I hear from you again, and you inform me how to send them. I have but few letters from Gen. Washington—the originals I cannot consent to part with; but copies are cheerfully at your service. I have had a copy taken of a very remarkable correspondence between General Wayne and General Reed, which awaits your directions. I was on a visit to Wayne shortly after its close; he read it to me, and I was so much struck with it, that I requested leave to take a copy, which he gave me. You will find it a curiosity, and it is another development of the real character of Reed. I think I formerly mentioned I knew but little of Gen. Wayne, with which you are not already acquainted, and I may say much the same as to Putnam, except what I had from conversation with General Washington. I have never been able to make up my mind how far Gen. Gates was concerned in the movement for his promotion, at Washington's expense. He certainly did not openly encourage it. It is so delicate a matter, I did not like to directly question General Washington. Once or twice, in conversation, I thought he was coming to the point, but he broke off without reaching it. Many of Conway's movements against Washington had a tact and address about them, for which Gates generally received the credit. Towards the close, his calumnies of Washington were disgustingly obscene—I mean Conway's. General Reed was well known to be deeply engaged in this conspiracy. But he lacked the courage of Conway, and was wholly without the rashness which so frequently marked the latter. Reed was a cautious and cunning plotter—he never looked one in the eye. Lee, who mortally hated him, had a common saying, "that Reed's face was stamped with the devil's favorite brand." I was once present when he made the remark in the presence of Reed, without observing him. Reed stepped forward, and angrily demanded "what was that, sir?" Lee bowed and repeated the observation, amid roars of laughter from all present. General Reed left the spot, remarking, "you shall hear from me shortly;" to which Lee replied, "I doubt that." Nothing further ever came of it.

Conway and Reed were decidedly the two most unpopular men in the army—with this difference, that Conway, though disliked, was respected, until his calumnies of Washington were carried to their extent. Of Conway's duel with General Cadwalader I have no particulars which you do not possess. Conway became nearly involved in another duel on Reed's account. He took up a quarrel of Reed's but it was compromised. Reed was publicly insulted, and submitted like a boarding-school miss. My sentiments on some subjects have changed with my advancing years; but I well remember the surprise which I felt, and which the whole army expressed, that a soldier, and one wearing epaulettes, should patiently submit to the epithet of "liar," and a threat of having his nose pulled. It may have been a conscientious scruple; but he did not hesitate to get others into difficulties.

In 1783 or '84, I had business which called me to Alexandria. To my delight, I met General Washington there, and he insisted upon my accompanying him home. The weather was wet and cold, and, for a wonder, as he expressed himself, he was without visiters but me. I remained at Mount Vernon several days and had many and long conversations with the General. While there, one of his newspapers mentioned the return of General Reed from England, in feeble health; and this induced a conversation concerning that person. I reminded the General of the coolness with which I had seen him treat Reed at the final leave-taking of his officers; and of the remark I had afterwards heard him make at Annapolis. The particulars I gave you in my letter from the Senate. General Washington rose, stamped his foot somewhat violently; then instantly checking himself, he paced the room slowly, speaking while he walked. I remember every thing he said as plainly as if it had been spoken only yesterday. He stated to me, that he had no doubt that General Reed had long been in treaty with the British before the arrival of their Commissioners in Philadelphia in 1778; and that, after the treaty of peace, in 1783, he received information, which placed it beyond question, that, in the appointment of the Commissioners, the British Ministry had selected Lord Carlisle with express reference to an acquaintance which he had had with Reed, when Reed was in England, seventeen or eighteen years before.

He mentioned that, in 1777, while the army was yet encamped at Valley Forge, Mrs. ——, a lady from Philadelphia, with whom Reed was long known to have had a criminal intercourse, was arrested within the lines, and that her suspicious conduct induced a search, which led to the discovery of a letter upon her person, from Governor Johnstone to General Reed, and enclosing a note from Lord Carlisle, which was in cypher. This letter related to overtures upon which Donop, the Hessian officer, and General Reed, had already exchanged their views; pronounced them to be somewhat extravagant; and suggested that Reed had better close the arrangement which had been proposed to Count Donop, and he would have no reason to complain. The ten thousand pounds of which Donop spoke, Johnstone said would be immediately paid, and he did not think there would be any difficulty about the land or its equivalent; but of the office that Donop mentioned, he (Governor Johnstone,) could not speak with confidence; upon that subject, the enclosed note from Lord Carlisle, Governor Johnstone said, would inform General Reed more definitely. This note being in cypher, General Washington informed me he never succeeded in having unravelled. Immediately upon receiving these papers, General Washington informed me he called a council, and sent for Reed. He placed the two letters in General Reed's hands, and demanded an explanation. Unfortunately, the officer whom he had sent for Reed had informed him what had happened and he had thus some time and opportunity for preparation. Reed professed himself unable to read the note in cypher, and said he did not know what it meant.

As to the letter from Governor Johnstone, he explained that overtures had been some time before made to him, offering him his own reward, upon condition of his bringing about a peace, but that he had replied, "that he was not worth the purchase, but poor as he was, King George was not rich enough to make it." When General Washington demanded why he had not before informed him of this communication, Reed replied, that though he was incorruptible, he was afraid of letting it be known what offers had been made, lest other officers might have been tempted to accept them. Reed was placed under arrest until further inquiries were made, but they were not successful, and he was released. The female upon whom the letters were detected, had been released, after being searched, and though every effort was made to get her again it was fruitless. General Washington added, that through the rest of the war, he watched Reed narrowly, and trusted him with nothing; and though he had no further proof of his guilt, he was satisfied that his treason had existed. But General Washington informed me, that after the peace, he had received information, the source of which he was not at liberty to divulge, but the truth of which he had satisfied himself of, that nothing but the accidental intercepting of Johnstone's and Carlisle's letters, had prevented Reed's consummation of treason. He had become fully convinced, after the disbanding of the army, that Reed had had numerous personal interviews during the war, with leading British officers; that he had seen Donop at Burlington; that he had been repeatedly within the British lines, and that he now knew that, after the battle of Germantown, he had visited the English General, Howe, at his Head Quarters, in Philadelphia.

I have now given you, accurately, the substance of General Washington's conversations upon this subject. It fully accounts for his marked treatment of Reed at New York and Annapolis; and it must convince you what a precious rogue in grain this counterfeit patriot was.

My letter will not reach you for some time after its date. My arm is stiff, and I write slowly; and, although I have but one date, I have written a little each day for four days. God bless you, my old friend, and make me hear frequently from you.

Yours very truly, SAMUEL SMITH.



I allow Mr. William Bradford Reed till Saturday to meditate upon this epistle. On that day, unless he should anticipate me, and publish the correspondence with Wayne, to which Colonel Smith refers, I shall have the pleasure of presenting it to the public eye. It is a light that ought not to be hidden under a bushel; but should be placed upon an elevation high as the summit of the Bunker Hill Monument, that it may be seen far and wide.

VALLEY FORGE.

October 1st, 1842.

October 5th, 1842.

MR. WHITNEY.—While exposing the demerits of Mr. William Bradford Reed, I have no disposition to disparage whatever of ability or information he may really possess; and concerning the letter, I cheerfully acknowledge that he has made himself very thoroughly acquainted with the true character of the leading men and events of the American Revolution.

But it is this that constitutes his chief shame. In his absurd panegyrics of his "Grandfather," he has not been imposed upon; he is seeking to impose upon others, and in this he has, to a very considerable extent, succeeded; he is sinning against the excess of light and the superfluity of knowledge. Possessing the most ample proofs of his grandfather's treachery to his country in the darkest hour of his country's peril, Mr. William B. Reed has not hesitated to hold him up to that very country which he sought to betray, and did well nigh betray, and would have betrayed, but for the timely interception of his treasonable correspondence with the British Commissioners, as one of the most glorious and incorruptible of the patriots who fought and suffered for the establishment of American Independence! The guilt of this will cling to Mr. Reed enduringly.

Never can he shake off its contamination. Could he escape from the odium of his more immediate personal delinquencies; his fawning sycophancy of Nicholas Biddle; his dirty work in behalf of that man for money, not for love; could he deluge with Lethean ocean the public memory, his malpractices as attorney-general; his venal career as a member of the Legislature; could he induce the public to overlook the bribes which he pocketed under the pretext of fees received for services never performed—bribes, the amount of which and the dates of whose reception, are well known, and sustainable by documentary reference;—could all this be erased, as systematic and persevering labours, from his boyhood upward, to delude a much injured country into reverence for the memory, not of the contemporary, but of the predecessor of Benedict Arnold in "treason" have won for him an infamy from the consequences of which escape is impossible.

I have heretofore referred, in general terms, to Mr. Reed's numerous applications, by writing and in person, to such survivors of the Revolution, or their descendants, as he supposed could furnish the information he desired, for anecdotes of General Reed; a part of my labours, hereafter to be entered upon, will be to narrate not a few of the rebuffs and rebukes this unfortunate Doctor Syntax in search of the biographical Pickenesque has experienced, and the minute fidelity with which my sketches shall be marked, will contribute, let me assure Mr. Reed, no less to his surprise than mortification, nay, I will establish that much of the information, that many of the documents, which I propose to lay before the readers of the Evening Journal, he and his brother, the Professor, possess; that copies of some of the latter have long been in their hands; and that Mr. William B. Reed has solicited the transfer or destruction of the originals. But I will even do more than all this, I will, in at least two instances, publish his own letter, praying for the loan if not the gift, of original papers affecting the fame of his grandfather. Even here I do not mean to stop. I shall show that Mr. Reed succeeded in inveigling from the possession of a gentleman of my acquaintance, for a pretended temporary purpose, a letter, the publication of which he supposed; and a part, I may say a prominent part, of Mr. Reed's scheme to perpetuate the delusion of his grandfather's patriotism, has been to write or call upon, every person projecting any work connected with the Revolution; and by tendering information, or otherwise volunteering his assistance, to deceive or disarm. He has played his game, so far, with very clever success; and, as I formerly mentioned, it is one which he is at present engaged in practising upon Mr. Bancroft—that same Mr. George Bancroft, whom, at a political meeting in this city, held some four or five years since, he so delicately described as a "tin cannister tied to the tail of Martin Van Buren, while Martin Van Buren, was running through the street, like a hot slut, with the whole kennel of loco-focoism bawling at her heels!" Adapting this figure to circumstances, as it might be introduced with great effect, into Mr. Reed's collegiate eulogy upon the services and patriotism of his grandfather.

In Col. Smith's last published letter to Col. ——, he promised to furnish the latter with copies of certain letters, and in another he says.

"I cannot answer your inquiry about Captain Anderson. I knew several officers of that name, but can recal nothing particular concerning any of them. I once received a letter from a person some where in the State of Delaware, calling himself Henry Anderson, inquiring about his uncle Captain Anderson, of the Revolutionary army, but I have not retained, or mislaid the letter, and cannot call to mind his more particular address. But even this defective information may serve to put you on the scent.

"Your son will tell you much for me that I would otherwise write. My rheumatism has prevented my showing him as much of the civilities of our town as I would have liked, but you will excuse me.

"Most truly and sincerely, "your old friend, "SAMUEL SMITH.



From among the accompaniments of this letter transmitted by Col. Smith, I select, for incorporation in the present article, the following correspondence between General Anthony Wayne and General Joseph Reed. The "Numbers" with which they are prefixed appear to be of General Wayne's own addition.

No. 1.

GEN. A. WAYNE,

My Dear General—

Only the day before yesterday I heard of your being here, and then but by accident, or I should have addressed you upon the subject of this communication. For several months there has been a rumor industriously circulated in this city, that during the last summer, you stated while in "South Carolina," in the presence of General Greene and other officers, that my conduct at the battles of Brandywine and Monmouth had subjected me to the imputation of timidity. It is added that you referred disparagingly to circumstances which occurred at Valley Forge, and revived the exploded calumny, for the truth of which you personally vouched, that I had signified my acceptance of the terms then offered me by the Commissioners, which you know that I spurned with scorn.

Of course you will understand me to be satisfied that you never did use any language of the kind, but, as these remarks have been propogated by persons who, I have every reason to believe, are no less your enemies than mine. I am anxious to afford you an opportunity for their contradiction, and this I have to request you will promptly give me.

I should be sorry that malicious and designing persons should have it in their power to disturb the harmony of the relations which I have so long enjoyed with one upon whose friendship I set so high a value, and for whom I entertain a peculiar esteem.

With great respect and cordiality, I am my Dear General, yours, &c., JOS. REED

Dec'r 26th, 1783.

No. 2.

Philadelphia, December 27th, 1783.

Sir—The cool effrontery of your note yesterday surprised me. By what right you presume to refer to any harmony of relations between us, and to speak of the value of my "friendship" I am at a loss to comprehend. That harmony was first disturbed by the pecuniary difficulties in which you so dishonestly involved me, and from which I am only now beginning to extricate myself, apart from which I could entertain no feelings of "friendship" for an officer for whom I have such abundance of reasons for entertaining sentiments of a very different description. I have no doubt that my remarks to General Greene and others have been correctly reported to you, not only in South Carolina and Georgia, but years ago in Pennsylvania, and within the immediate reach of your personal demand. I have never hesitated, on all proper occasions to express myself in similar terms. I never merely intimated that your conduct at the battles of Brandywine and Monmouth had subjected you "to the imputations of timidity," but I have always said that your behaviour at those battles, particularly that of Chad's Ford, should have secured your dismissal from the army.

What you refer to as "the exploded calumny" of your negotiations with the enemy at Valley Forge, I in common with every officer in the army, with whom I have ever conversed upon the subject, including the Commander-in-chief, believe to be strictly well-founded.

I am Sir, yours, ANTHONY WAYNE.

To Joseph Reed.



VALLEY FORGE.

We take the following communication of Mr. Smith, from the North American of this morning.

"In compliance with this arrangement, I came to this city this evening, accompanied by three of my friends conversant with my father's handwriting, viz; Hon. Louis McLane, Robert Gilmore, and Robert Purviance, Esqrs., and was met at the place and hour of appointment by William B. Reed and Henry Reed, Esqrs., and waited there until half-past eight o'clock, without the appearance of the author of "Valley Forge," or any of his friends.

JNO. SPEAR SMITH.

_Washington House, Parlor No. 3,

Monday, October 24th, 1842._

In relation to this matter, we received through the Post-Office this morning, the following explanation from Valley Forge.

"Mr. WHITNEY:—I am unable to express my mortification at the unhappy and unexpected accident which has prevented my meeting the Messrs. Reed and Mr. John Spear Smith this evening, at the time and place appointed by them, for the purpose of having tested the authenticity of General Samuel Smith's letters to Colonel ——, Col. —— is my near relative, and though in his ninety-third year, has till last Thursday, enjoyed the most excellent health for one of so advanced an age. As he will not permit the originals to be taken out his sight, I intended of course that he should accompany me as one of my three friends. His sudden and severe illness has rendered this impossible; he refuses to part with the documents even for a temporary purpose, and I have thus been compelled to submit for the present to this most mortifying piece of ill-fortune.

No doubt the exultation of the Messrs. Reed will be violent, but let me say to them, it will be but short-lived. But a brief time will pass, and all the papers which I have published, and many more which are yet to come, will be fully proved and laid before the public. When Colonel ——'s health is restored, I do not doubt that I shall prevail upon him to place them in my hands, when I shall see Mr. John Spear Smith with them at Baltimore and have the Messrs. Reed see them here.

VALLEY FORGE.

October 24th, 1842."

We do not approve of this course of procedure on the part of Valley Forge, nor do we think it a proper one. We think he ought to have met Mr. Smith and the Messrs. Reed at the place and time appointed, and made the explanation in person. Under any circumstances, we think it was due to them as well as to ourselves. The proposition which was made by Valley Forge having been accepted by the above-named gentlemen, what reason can there be for longer preserving his incognito? Indeed he expressed his willingness, in one of his notes, which we publish below, to unveil himself as soon as the proposition he made was accepted.

We had, from the first, as we have now, the fullest confidence that the letters purporting to be from the late General S. Smith were genuine, as well as that the intentions of Valley Forge, so far as concerned ourselves, were fair, and that he would establish the authenticity of those letters, and the other documents contained in his communications.

Our belief in the genuineness of the letters of General Smith, was strengthened by the perusal of a letter which we now have before us, addressed to General Joseph Reed, by General John Cadwalader, in 1783, which corroborates what those letters contain. In that letter the latter gentleman says, "Having fully stated the temper of men's minds at this alarming period, and the situation of public affairs, I shall now recite the conversation and circumstances relating thereto, which I have avowed in my letter to you of the 10th September, as having passed between us at Bristol.

"I had occasion to speak with you, a few days before the intended attack on the 20th December, 1776, and requested you to retire with me to a private room at my quarters; the business related to intelligence—a general conversation, however, soon took place concerning the state of public affairs, and after running over a number of topics, in an agony of mind, and despair strongly expressed on your countenance, and tone of voice, you spoke your apprehensions concerning the event of the contest; that our affairs looked very desperate, and we were only making a sacrifice of ourselves; that the time Gen. Howe's offering pardon and protection to persons who should come in before the 1st January, 1777, was nearly expired; and that Galloway, the Allens, and others, had gone over and availed themselves of that pardon and protection offered by said proclamation; that you had a family, and ought to take care of them, and that you did not understand following the wretched remains (or remnants) of a broken army; that your brother (then Colonel or Lieutenant Colonel of the militia—but you say of the five month's men, which is not material) was then at Burlington with his family, and that you had ordered him to remain there, and if the enemy took possession of the town, to take a protection and swear allegiance—and in so doing he would be perfectly justifiable.

"This was the substance, and I think nearly the very words; but that, "you did not understand following the wretched remains (or remnants) of a broken army! I perfectly remember to be the very words!"

The letter of General Cadwalader contains the letters of P. Dickinson, John Nixon, Benjamin Rush, David Lenox[TN], A. Hamilton, and a numbers of other persons, confirming what we have quoted.

The subjoined notes from Valley Forge gave us confidence in the fairness of his intentions.

R. M. WHITNEY, Esq: Dear Sir—I observe an invitation in yesterday's Journal, for me to call at, or send to, your office, for some information which you have to impart. For reasons which I shall have the pleasure of expressing to you hereafter in person, I am anxious to preserve my incognito, for the present, even with my nearest friends; and this consideration will prevent my calling. I am also at a loss to know how to send; but if you will drop me a few lines in the letter box of the Post-office, I shall not fail to receive them.

Very truly, &c., VALLEY FORGE. September 23d, 1842.

Please direct to "Ambrose Anderson, Philadelphia."

R. M. WHITNEY, Esq., Dear Sir,—I am favored with your note, refering me to General Cadwalader's pamphlet, which you inform me has been abstracted from the Philadelphia Library. I have access to material, far beyond any thing in importance and value which could possibly be obtained by General Cadwalader; nevertheless the abstraction of his pamphlet is a circumstance which I will not fail to turn to good account. The gentleman to which I so often refer, in my communications as the revolutionary soldier who has furnished me with information, is a near relative of mine, who knew Gen. Joseph Reed thoroughly. I shall continue my communications from time to time; and you may rely upon my giving you nothing, which does not admit of literal substantiation. Among other letters which I have, are several from "George Clymer," (whom you mention in your note,) which hit the nail on the head.

Will you permit me the liberty of suggesting a continuance of your vigorous editorials upon Stephen Girard? The word "finessed" in my last, your compositor has transformed into finified.

Respectfully &c., VALLEY FORGE. Sept. 25, 1842.

REUBEN M. WHITNEY, Esq., Dear Sir,—I am afraid that, in copying Sergt. Kemp's first letter, I have made an error of date, on which account I am glad my communication has not appeared to-day, as it gives me an opportunity of correction. I am anxious to avoid even the slightest mistake in my communications. The letter is dated "June 23rd, 1778." I am not certain that I did not so transcribe it; but if I did not, be good enough to make the correction. I particularly wish you would italicise my interrogatory to Reed relative to his grandfather's correspondence with General Wayne. There is a point in it which he will fully understand, and which will give him more uneasiness than all else. I intend reserving my extracts from that correspondence for the very last.

Respectfully, &c. VALLEY FORGE. Sept. 27, 1842.

R. M. WHITNEY, Esq.,—Dear Sir—I am provoked to find that, upon comparing my copy of Col. Smith's letter to Col. ——, with the original, that I have made another error! I hope this will reach you in time for its correction. Speaking of his visit to Gen. Washington at Mount Vernon and Washington, it should be, and Philadelphia.

Respectfully, &c., VALLEY FORGE. Sept. 28, 1842.

R. M. WHITNEY,—Dear Sir—I have been absent for a day or two from the city, and did not receive your note until to-day. I enclose a note for publication—oblige me by letting it appear to-morrow. I cannot imagine how so stupid an error could have occured as the erroneous date of Kemp's discharge by Gen. Washington. But the error almost corrects itself—as Kemp's letter of July 2d, speaks of the battle of Monmouth on the 28th. I do not know whether the blunder is that of your workman, or mine in the haste of transcribing. One or two other errors, which are mine, I made the subject of two notes, which I addressed you through the Post-office. My absence from town, and my intended absence to-morrow, prevent my preparing another article for Saturday. Possibly, I will have it ready for Monday, and certainly for Tuesday. Acknowledge its receipt, and that it will appear on Monday or Tuesday. I have not yet come to the real gems of my budget. Reed shall have a surfeit.

Respectfully, &c., VALLEY FORGE Sept. 30, 1842.

R. M. WHITNEY, Esq: Dear Sir—Nothing could have afforded me more pleasure than the publication which has been made by the Reeds. It has given me the opportunity, which I have from the first been seeking, of bringing the question of General Reed's revolutionary exploits to a crisis. I pledge myself to you, that I will overwhelm them with confusion and shame.

I have not called for your letter at the Post-office, because I know that I am watched; and I do not desire to be known till the adoption of my proposition to the Reeds, of which I speak in the accompanying communication, and which I will furnish for publication in Monday's Journal. They have fallen completely into the snare.

Yours, &c., very truly, VALLEY FORGE. October 14, 1842.

In his explanatory communication of yesterday's date, Valley Forge speaks of many more papers "which are yet to come:" we suppose he means yet to be published. If so, we feel constrained to say now, that we cannot publish any thing more relating to the matter until he announces to us, at least, his real name.

From the Evening Journal.

R. M. WHITNEY, Esq: Dear Sir,—I am pained beyond measure, at the situation in which I have been so unfortunately instrumental in placing you. But for circumstances which I cannot possibly control, I would promptly communicate to you my name and residence. A pledge, rigidly exacted by my venerable relative, Col. ——, and solemnly given by me at the time he consented that I should communicate to you the letters of the late General Smith, and the other papers with which he furnished me, that I should not make either him or myself known without his consent, binds me as with links of iron. Col. —— is slowly recovering from the paralytic affection with which he was seized on the 20th of this month; and let me assure you, most sacredly and solemnly, that as soon as his health is sufficiently restored to allow a conversation of any length to be had with him, I will not fail to convince him of the propriety—of the necessity—of permitting me to call upon you, or invite you to his residence, where, preliminary to my taking the proper steps to convince the public of their authenticity, I may exhibit to you all the writings which have been so exultingly prounounced[TN] to be "audacious forgeries."

You do me but justice, when you say, that "a careful perusal of the letters of Valley Forge, confirms the belief, that he is neither an impostor nor a forger of letters." Why should I be? What motive could induce any rational being to originate a fabrication so sure to be detected? You will find, ere very long, that I have given you nothing but the truth. Only one liberty did I venture to take with any of the correspondence—that was from considerations of delicacy, which I now believe to have been fastidious, and to which, at the time, I reluctantly yielded. In Gen. Smith's letter to Col. ——, dated Oct. 2d, 1832, I substituted a blank for the name of Mrs. Ferguson," which Gen. Smith gives as that of the lady from whom was taken the letter of Governor Jonstone to Gen. Reed. This, the only alteration I ever made, you must allow, was a pardonable error.

"Truth is mighty and must prevail;" and in this case, to the joy of your friends, and the consternation of your enemies, it shall be signally exemplified. For the present, let me entreat you to rest satisfied with my assurances; assurances which will soon be most thoroughly redeemed; and that you will desist from your endeavor to discover who I am—efforts which can give you but vain trouble, which must prove fruitless; for the precautions which I have adopted for the preservation of my incognito, it is impossible to overcome.

Very truly, &c., VALLEY FORGE.

October 29th, 1842.

From the Evening Journal, October 31st.

"Valley Forge" and General Joseph Reed—Is there a Sepulchral Sanctuary for Public Men?—The success of the American Revolution—Justice and Truth essential Elements of History—"Forgery"—The Editor, &c.

Whatever motives may have actuated "Valley Forge" to the publication of documents affecting the revolutionary services and fame of General Joseph Reed, and we pretend not either to scan them, or doubt their honorable complexion—for truth, when on the side of country and patriotism, admits not of suspicion or mistrust—whatever motive, we say, may have impelled him to the revelation of these important historical documents, there can exist no doubt as it respects the principle which sustains the ransacking of the grave, for the sake of truth. Begin at any period of history, however early, and it will be found that public men have always been considered as public property—their characters, their conduct and their opinions, belonging to the world, with no privilege of sanctuary, either in life or in the tomb. It was so with the Hebrews, it was so with Persians, the Babylonians, the Grecians, the Romans, the French, the English, and even the Chinese. Indeed, so obvious is the principle, as almost to dispense with argument. It bears on its very face, the irresistible force of a first principle; for if the grave cannot cover up the good deeds of men, it never can be made to conceal their evil ones. The lessons of history, like the lessons of life, are derived more from the wicked than the good. The striking contrast of example, comes from the man who has perpetuated deeds that curdle the blood with fear, or crimson the cheeks with shame. Virtue is negative, quiet, undismayed—but vice rides aloft on the back of desecrated principles and violated laws, accompanied by the tumultuous rush of a moral whirlwind, overturning the fruits, blossoms and harvest of life; bearing blasts upon its brow, and leaving havoc in its train. And so do the laws of all well governed countries dispose of the remains of notorious felons, who, instead of being suffered to repose in the grave, are denied all interment; their bodies being delivered over to the surgeons for the benefit of science, or exposed on a gibbet, till the crows, eagles and vultures, devour their flesh, and then, even their bones are left to blacken in the winter's blast, as a warning to man, to shun the deeds that led them to their doom.