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commercial gambling, and makes his desperate throws at the risk of others; who embarks in rash and senseless adventures, condemned by common sense as by honesty: and when they end in a total wreck, looks his abused creditors coolly in the face, and offers them a list of bad debts, and an inventory of worthless goods, provided they will release and discharge him for ever from their claims.

if there be any, to his friends or favorites, at his will and pleasure, with the air of a Lord Chancellor, and the creditors have nothing to do but to hear and to submit to the decree in the shape of an assignment.-Debtor and creditor retire from this dishonest mockery, mutually dissatisfied; the one to resume his business, his station in society, his pride and importance, his manner of living, with out any visible degradation or retrenchment, and the other to repeat the same system of It cannot be denied, that such a course of credit with the same disastrous credulity, proceeding between a bankrupt and those It is not unfrequent for the same individual who have trusted him, that the authority he to run a second time over the same course of extravagance, folly and ruin. If this is the property, in exclusion of those to whom it assumes, and sometimes insolently, over his manner of settling the affairs of an insolvent, rightfully belongs, are utterly inconsistent we may imagine what becomes of the foreign with the principles of honest dealing; they creditor and his claims; and cannot be sur-bespeak an unsound, may I not say, a corrupt prised if he is loud in his complaints. In some instances, there is so little feeling of mortification excited by bankruptcy; so little remorse for the losses which others will suffer by it, that the whole thing is turned into a jest. Two of these reciprocal drawers and endorsers, these mutual assurance gentlemen, were enjoying themselves at a convivial dinner, when one of them suddenly took out his watch, and observing that it was 3 o'clock, (the hour of protest,) cried out "Tom, we are broke." The joke was thought excellent, and set the table in a roar. Is not this a criminal levity? Is it not to make sport of plunder; to create distress and then to mock it?

I am far from intending to involve every insolvent trader in these reproaches, and 1 repeat with pride, that such heartless depravity is becoming less frequent among us. Bankruptcy is often the consequence here, as elsewhere, of inevitable misfortune, and is met with fidelity and honor. The life of a merchant is, necessarily, a life of peril. He can scarcely move without danger. He is beset on all sides with disappointments, with Auctuations in the current of business, which sometimes leave him stranded on an unknown bar, and sometimes sweep him helpless into the ocean. These vicissitudes depend on causes which no man can control; and are often so sudden, that no calculation could anticipate, or skill avoid them. To risk much, to be exposed to hazards, belongs to the vocation of a merchant; his usefulness and success depend, in many cases, on his enterprize. He must have courage to explore new regions of commerce, and encounter the difficulties of untried experiments. To be unfortunate in such pursuits is no more disgraceful to an upright trader, than to fall in the field of battle is dishonorable to the soldier, or defeat to a General who has done all that valor and skill could achieve to obtain the victory. Very different is the case of one who with but little of his own to jeopard, commences business on a system of

state of the mercantile body, so far as they extend, and are destructive of all security in commercial transactions. These evils must be probed and corrected; every honest man has an interest in removing them, and in elevating the commercial character of his

country.

themselves, or allow others to consider them, vantages; but as merchants, in the fullest and as petty traffickers for petty gains by all admost honorable sense of the term; as the world are sustained, by whom the intercourse men by whom the great operations of the of the human family, however scattered and remote, is kept up; as the instruments of civilization and intellectual improvement; as the agents to distribute the comforts and luxuries of life over the whole surface of the globe. By them the whole race of man, of every variety of complexion and character, and wheresoever they may inhabit, are brought together, and taught to know each other and to aid each other. They are the peace-makers of the world, for they show it to be the interest and happiness of all to remain at peace; and they demonstrate that it is easier to obtain the good things we may desire by commerce than by conquest; by exchange, than by arms. They soften national asperities, and remove unjust prejudied by ordinary men; and those who do perces. Such high functions cannot be perforinform them faithfully are the noblest benefactors of mankind.

Our traders must not consider

The cause of frequent failures in trade in this country is reasonably ascribed in many instances, to the ignorance of the business of merchants, by those who without any previous training or experience, think themselves qualified for such pursuits. Another cause is thus explained:

There are other causes, still more grave and disreputable, of disasters in our trading community. I would particularly refer to

by increased industry and economy: the careless spendthrift, the rash and reckless adventurer, the slave of vicious indulgences, who sports with property not his own, and lavishes uncounted sums to glut his pride and pamper voluptuous appetites, should be made to feel his crimes and his degradation by the withering neglect of the whole community.

the system of indorsing, which prevails; the facility of obtaining credit on the faith of mere names, and the contrivances and deceptions which are resorted to, to keep up the false and hollow credit thus obtained, and to postpone, as long as possible, the inevitable explosion, even after it is known to be inevitable. This is rank dishonesty. Whenever trader knows that he cannot hold his ground, As a summary of the doctrine I teach and he should at once give it up, and not strive to prop himself by expedients of buying and desire to impress upon you, let me add, that borrowing of indorsements and credits, debts contracted in the indulgence of extravwhich but sink him deeper in debt, and draw agant and unbecoming luxuries, or in the purbis confiding friends into his difficulties. Bat suit of rash and desperate adventures, are a what is the value of an Indorser in our sys-violation of the sound principles of mercantem of business? An indorsement purports to tile integrity; that the true merchant will be a surety for the payment of the note; an thoroughly qualify himself for his business additional security to the responsibility of the by a patient and systematic preparation, and drawer. How seldom is it in fact? Yet such will depend upon the regular operations of is the competition for business; the eager- legitimate commerce for his profits, which, ness even to seem to be fully engaged in it, though more slow, are, finally more certain that such securities are seized upon as if they and lasting than the fluctuating gains of specwere as sure as a bond of fate. Experience ulation; that if misfortunes and bankrupcy has taught every one, that the Drawer and should fall upon him, he will meet them Indorser are so linked in with each other, so promptly and manfully, and not attempt to equally bound in mutual responsibilities, that gain a few lingering days of credit for himthe failure of one is the failure of the other, self, by drawing his friends into the vortex of and the security of both, no better than that his ruin, and extending it to those who may, of either. CREDIT! CREDIT! is the fatal unwittingly, continue to trust him that he bane of commercial prosperity-of commer-will at once surrender, into the hands his cial honor and honesty. The transactions of creditors shall choose to hold the trusts for business are little better than fictions. Goods them, all the property in his possession or are sold which have never been paid for-power, unfettered by selfish stipulations for and a note is taken for them which will never his own benefit, undiminished by any conbe paid. And this is called doing business. cealment, or by assignments or transfers to This is followed by forced sales and rainous favorites of any description. While you apsacrifices of property for immediate, but prove and expect such a course of conduct temporary, relief-and the whole winds up from others, do not depart from it yourself, with an assignment, when there is nothing of and be exposed to the reproof so often merany value to assign. A consequence of this itedstate of things is, that the true merchant, with a substantial and responsible capital, is deprived of his fair business and profits by a swarm of pennyless speculators, who do sell, and must sell, for whatever price they can get, for the moment the ball stops rolling, they cease to exist. This, assuredly, is an unwholesome state of trade, and corrupts and undermines the whole commercial community.

The address, thus concludes:

"What eagles are we still

:

In matters that belong to other men ;
What beetles in our own."

WASHINGTON.

Extract from President Lindsley's Centennial Address.

THE age of Washington is the classic age of American history. It is a resplendent, a glorious, a golden age. The character of Washington may, without even the semblance of hyperbole, be pronounced in a single word-Perfection! So far, at least, as perfection may be justly predicted of any mere mortal man.

As our laws between debtor and creditor rather encourage than suppress the evils and impositions of which we have spoken, so corruptive of our commercial integrity and so Injurious to our national character, there is but one other tribunal to which we can refer for their correction. Public opinion must inculcare sound doctrines, and visit with indignation those who offend them. While the truly unfortunate and insolvent should be treated with tenderness; should be relieved, by a liberal indulgence; and encouraged, and enabled, by a generous assistance, to re-ed establish himself, and retrieve his fortunes

Among the great personages whom mankind have delighted to honour, not one can be designated as worthy of being adjudged his peer. How lovely and docile and dutiful in childhood-how nobly good and brave in youth and manhood-how wise, magnanimous, philanthropic, dignified, unostentatious, pure and single-hearted in all his unparallelprosperity, and through every scene of his wonderful career!

In all the walks and relations of private which enabled him to decline all pecuniary and domestic life he shone with a beauty and remuneration from his grateful country-and splendor peculiarly his own. He was emi-finally to manifest a princely hospitality and nently rich in good works-and envy dared munificence, without a particle of princely not hate or revile him. He was the able, ju- parade, extravagance or ostentation. dicious and unwearied advocate of every useful enterprise and institution-of religion, order, morals, science and universal education.

Washington never flattered the great nor courted the multitude. He never solicited office. He was ever ready to serve his country, but never sought to govern it. He never resorted to artifice, intrigue or management for any selfish purpose whatever. If he was ambitious, it was to deserve the esteem of the wise and the good not to acquire power, wealth, honor or fame.

He was American in all his feelings, sentiments and policy. He belonged to no party -but to his country. Nor was his patriotism selfish or exclusive. His benevolence extended to the whole family of mankind. Though sternly just in all his intercourse With him character-moral characterwith foreign nations-he exacted nothing was every thing from the beginning. He alwhich he was not heartily disposed to recip- ways acted from principle-from the highest, rocate. He observed the strictest neutrality holiest religious principle. And by the force towards the European belligerents, and la- of character, he rose in the confidence, adboured to convince his fellow-citizens and miration and affections of his countrymen. the world that this was and ever must be the Neither birth, nor fortune, nor family alliangenuine policy of the American government. ces contributed in the least, to his exaltation. In him was no blemish which requires the It was all the result of his own good conduct, oblivious mantle of charity from the partial sound sense, indefatigable diligence, uniformi biographer or from a grateful posterity. His kindness, invincible integrity, devoted patrientire life, from the cradle to the grave, is otism, moral courage, christian magnanimity before the world-and it may boldly chal--and of that determined resolution, which lenge the severest scrutiny.

His is a life to be studied, not merely by the warrior, the politician, the statesman, the philosopher-but by the humblest citizen of the republic. He possessed virtues and excellences which all may imitate-though, in majesty and grandeur, none may ever approach him.

is ever the attribute of superior genius and real greatness, to become equal to every occasion, emergency and enterprise which he was providentially summoned to encounter or to direct.

There have been many ambitious Cæsarsmany illustrious patriots-many talented demagogues-many splendid traitors-whose glory and whose infamy are recorded in the everlasting page of history. Our country has produced a noble band of heroic warriours and gifted sages and accomplished statesmen-but, hitherto, no Cæsar, and but one Arnold.

Our world has produced but one WASHINGTON.

He was born in humble obscurity-but in him were blended all the elements which ever ensure pre-eminence under any circumstances. He would have been great and good-had the revolution, which made him the greatest and the best, never occurred. He would have been, as he was, the most skilful, scientific and successful farmer in Virginia. And he would have been, as he was, respected, beloved and honoured by all his fellowFrom the New-York Mirror. citizens. It seems ever to have been a maxim GENTLEMEN-In looking over a collection with him, that there is nothing worth doing of letters from my friends and correspondat all which is not worth doing well. And ents, the following, from the late Dr. Benjaanother, not less important, that time is in-min Rush, arrested my attention as a comvaluable and that every moment must be improved. Whatever he did, therefore, was well done-and he never passed an idle or unprofitable hour. He resolved, while yet poor, to be independent-that he might be honest and useful. He therefore applied himself diligently to business, and to the acquisition of such knowledge as would ensure him success and reputation. He was industrious and economical, not to amass wealth for its own sake, but that he might be virtuous, just and generous. It was this truly noble spirit of honorable independence, cherished from early youth, which preserved him from pecuniary embarrassments throughout the long period of his public services, and

munication of peculiar interest, and one which ought not to be confined to the family circle, for whose gratification it was communicated.

In the first instance, it was addressed to John Adams, the late President of the United States. In September, 1812, the doctor inclosed me a copy of the same, intended to be seen only by my family and friends. Believing it will be perused with delight and profit by the reader of taste, correct feelings, and religious sentiments, I send it for insertion in the Mirror.

H.

LETTER FROM DR. RUSH TO JOHN ADAMS.

Philadelphia, July 13th, 1812. "MY DEAR FRIEND Can you bear to

read a letter that has nothing in it about politics or war? I will, without waiting for an answer to this question, trespass upon your patience, by writing to you upon anoth er subject.

reapers and thrashers; and at all times with prayers and praises, and chapters read audibly from the bible; for all who inhabited it of my family were pious people, and chiefly of the sect of quakers and baptists. On my way home I stopped to view a family graveyard, in which were buried three and part of four successive generations, all of whom were the descendants of Captain John Rush, who, with six sons and three daughters, followed William Penn to Pennsylvania, in the

family bible that contains the record of his marriage, and of the birth and names of his children, by his own hand. In walking over the grave-yard, I met with a headstone, with the following inscription :

"I was called on Saturday last to visit a patient about nine miles from Philadelphia. Being a holiday, I took my youngest son with me, instead of my black servant. After visiting my patient, i recollected I was within three or four miles of the farm on which I was born, and where my ancestors for sev-year 1683. He commanded a troop of horse eral generations had lived and died. The under Oliver Cromwell; and family tradiday being cool and pleasant, I directed my tion says he was personally known to him, sou to continue our course to it. In ap- and much esteemed by him as an active and proaching, I was agitated in a manner I did an enterprising officer. When I first settled not expect. The access was altered, but in Philadelphia, I was sometimes visited by every thing around was nearly the same as one of his grandsons, a man of eighty-five in the days of my boyhood, at which time I years of age, who had lived with him when left it. I introduced myself to the family a boy, and who often detailed anecdotes that lived there, by telling them at once who from him of the battles in which he had I was, and my motives for intruding upon fought under Cromwell, and once mentioned them. They received me kindly, and discov- an encomium on his character by Cromwell, ered a disposition to satisfy my curiosity and when he supposed him to be killed. The gratify my feelings. I asked permission to late General Darke of Virginia, and General conduct my son up stairs, to see the room in James Irvine, are a part of his numerous which I drew my first breath, and made my posterity; as the successor to the eldest sons first unwelcome noise in the world, and where of the family, I have been permitted to posfirst began the affection and cares of my be-sess his sword, his watch, and the leaf of his loved and excellent mother. This request was readily complied with, and my little boy seemed to enjoy the spot. I next asked for a large cedar tree that stood before the door, which had been planted by my father's hand. Our kind host told me it had been cut down seventeen years ago; and then pointed to a piazza in front of the house, the pillars of which, lie said, were made of it. I stepped up to one of the pillars and embraced it. I'next inquired for an orchard planted by my father. He conducted me to an emi nence behind the house, and shewed me a This James Rush was my grandfather. My number of large apple trees, at a little disson, the physician, was named after him. tance, that still bore fruit, to each of which I have often heard him spoken of as a I felt something like the affection of a broth-strong-minded man, and uncommonly ingener, The building, which is of stone, bears ous in his business, which was that of a marks of age and decay. On one of the gunsmith. The farm still bears marks of stones near the front door, I discovered with his boring machine. My father inherited some difficulty the letters J. R. Before the both his trade and his farm. While standing house, flows a small, but deep creek, abound- near his grave, and recollecting how much of ing in pan-fish. The farm consists of ninety my kindred dust surrounded it, my thoughts acres, all in a highly cultivated state. I became confused, and it was some time beknew the owner to be in such easy circum-fore I could arrange them. Had any or all stances, that I did not ask him his price for it; but begged, if he should ever incline to sell it, to make me or one of my surviving sons the first offer, which he promised to do.

While I sat in his common room, I looked at its walls, and thought how often they had been made vocal by my ancestors, to conversations about wolves and bears, and snakes, in the first settlement of the farm; afterwards about cows and calves and colts and lambs; and the comparative exploits of

"In memory of James Rush, who depart-
ed this life March 16th,1727, aged forty-eight
years.
"I've tried the strength of death,

And here lie under ground,
But I shall rise, above the skies,
When the last trump shall sound."

of my ancestors appeared before me, in their homespun or working-dresses, (for they were all farmers or mechanics,) they would probably have looked at one another, and said, "What means that gentleman by thus intruding upon us?"

"Dear and venerable friends! be not oftended at me. I inherit your blood, and I bear the name of most of you. I come here to claim affinity with you, and to do homage to your christian and moral virtues. It is true, my dress indicates that I move in a dif

ferent sphere from that in whch you have passed through life; but I have acquired and received nothing from the world which I prize so highly as the religious principles which I inherited from you, and I possess nothing that I value so much as the innocence and purity of your characters.

"Upon my return to my family in the evening, I gave them a history of the events of the day, to which they listened with great pleasure; and partook at the same time, of some cherries, from the limb of a large tree, (supposed to have been planted by my father,) which my little son brought home with

him

"Mr. Pope says there are seldom more than two or three persons in the world who are sincerely afflicted at our death beyond the limits of our own family. It is, I believe, equally true, that there are seldom more than two or three persons in the world who are interested in any thing a man says of himself beyond the circle of his own table or fire-side. I have flattered nyself that you are one of those two or theree persons to whom the simple narrative and reflections contained in this letter will not be unacceptable from, my dear and excellent friend, yours affectionately,

BENJAMIN RUSH."

"TO JOHN ADAMS Esq.

LIFE OF A SAILOR.

A writer in Campbell's Metropolitan for February, in an article describing some ininteresting incidents in " the life of a sailor," relates the following affecting anecdote.

We have had nearly enough of battles, and I should have withheld the following account of a skirmish on shore, had not some of those touching scenes occurred, over which the mind delights to wander, and memory confers a favor when she startles them into existence. We were about ten miles to the eastward of Marseilles, when we saw a small vessel at anchor in a narrow bay. Prize money is like blood to a bloodhound, once tasted never relinquished, without superior force interferes. To see the vessel small as she was, and to know that a certain sum however small, would follow her capture, was sufficient excitement. Captain Parker, who had then succeeded to the title in consequence of old Sir Peter Parker's death, having reconnoitered the bay which seemed totally defenceless, manned the boats, and desired the lieutenant to bring out the prize. We had three boats only employed in this expedition; for as we could not distinguish the slightest appearance of a fortification, or any thing approximating to a battery, this small force was deemed amply sufficient; and we left the ship, just as

sure of a bloodless prize as we were of our existence. In each boat, however, three marines had been placed to amuse people on shore, while we towed out the vessel. We approached the land about noon, and shortly were within pistol shot. Not a soul was to be seen, excepting an old woman who sat at the door of a small hut erected on the further end of the bay; she sat spinning and seemingly without noticing us. It was a dead calm, and "ocean slumbered like an unwean'd child." The bowman was a corpse; a musket had been fired from behind a rock on the left hand ei trance, and that first shot was fatal; it was succeeded by another nearly from the same place, and one marine was disabled: a third came and tore the cravat from the lieutenant's neck, but did not touch him: a fourth and the cock swain lost his arm. There was no standing this, it was deliberate murder; for esconced behind the rocks, the Frenchmen fired in perfect security; and so sinall were the apertures from whence issued their destruction, that they were imperceptable to us. We gave three cheers, and pulled right for the place. Only one more shot came and that struck an already wounded man. A small sandy cove offered a landing, and one and all, saving the wounded, jumped on shore and began a search. The lieutenant, myself, and a marine, took one direction; the other marine and some of the boat's crew were left to search the rock near which we had landed. Ours seemed a hopeless attempt to discover the enemy; we wound along the narrow path, which sometimes offered a view of the water, and then suddenly turned inland. We examined every place with the utmost precaution, and search was useless, until another shot, which missed its mark, convinced us we were not far from our foes.We pushed on, one after the other, for the road was rugged and narrow, until, coming into a broader and more open view, we saw a man and a little boy retreating in much haste. The instant we hailed him to stop, he turned round and fired. It was again a harmless shot, it grazed the marine, but no mischief was done. The lieutenant instantiv bred, but missed his mark; and he desired the marine to do the same, taking care not to hit the boy. The Frenchman again fired, and the little boy instantly gave a cartridge, it was a running fight, and little harm likely to be done from such wild firing. The marine suddenly stopped, and resting his musket against the rock, shot the child; he fell in the act of offering another cartridge. The father instantly relinquished his fire-arms, and feli by the side of his son; of course he was a prisoner in a moment. Our seizing his musket he disregarded; even of our ap proach he seemed unmindful. He had seated himself, and, placing the boy's head upon

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