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THE REFLECTOR. MILLKDGEV1LLK, G. TUESDAY. MAY a, 1K18. BIOGRAPHY. PATRICK. HENRY, o following character of this groat man on from tlic third number of “The Yir- Evangelioal and Literary Magazine," s the conclusion of a review of Wirt’s lies of his Life : t is perhaps impossible, to form a fair ate of the character of such a man as ek Henry, with the materials before us must not decline the effort. And in rst place to view him as a soldier, we at venture to claim the laurel for his Y'et, we think that he possessed sonn ;e talents of a great captain, in no coin- degree. Boldness and enterprise, he ar- displayed ; and penetration, and skill d hardly have been wanting. Besides his full possession of his own faculties, is mastery over those of others, would given him unlimited command of tie and enabled him to manage its nia- •ry at will, llis gift of eloquence too. idering the nature of the war. and tli ycterof his soldiers, would have been engine of power in his p isscssion. il t not have been able indeed, (as Posnpri ted of himself,) to raise up an army by tamp of his foot, but lie would almost done it by the motion of his tong' .— opportunity w as wanting to his tab nts : e must be satisfied to leave him witliou; tioii in the ranks, a lawyer, he was always deficient in earning of his profession ; but simply use he would not, or could not, bend hi- 1 to the study of a science in which tber no royal way, even for him. On great sinus however, when Ids native indo- e was conquered by some prevailing ino- , he displayed a copiousness of knowledge jt satisfied his subject, and informed the "st of his rivals. s a statesman, lie is entitled to greatci ise than lie has received. His mind in- id, was naturally of the right order for ! solier business of legislation—dear,sound judicious. It is true, lie had some talents a brilliant, and even dangerous order : then, he had that also of good common so, which only tempered their lustre, je it increased their force. lie certainly .w very little of books; but lie was well 'painted with nature, in all her living and habitudes ; and read tlie • liara< - of men at a glance. He bad besides, no mon portion of that sagacity, which is ntaition of history ; which sees coii.se- nres in their causes, and combining the erience of the past with the knowledge of present, divines the secrets of the future, h a precision of calculation that resem Hie certainty of foresight. And almv he had that honesty of heart, vvliid* * ngthens all the powers of the niiml by the seioosness of rectitude ; and commands confidence of others, by the simple pro of deserving it. With this character ind, all his measures were pi artr ai, and ted towards attainable results. He did like our little politicians of the present lose the solid advantages vvithin his h, by grasping at something greater b< - lit. On the contrary, he kept the road xperienre, and moved straight on Ids and forward to Ids object. In a word, •iews were of the best kind, and direct- the best ends, the peace and happiness is country. fter all however, it is chiefly in the cha- er of an orator, that he must stand br and in this light he strikes with a of splendor, which hardly suffers us tell the lineaments of his figure. That d his eloquence was great, and even Cendant, we have certainly the dearest ■nee to b< lievfe. His speeches were not ered only at the bars of county courts, assemblies of the people ; but lie- judges, statesmen, orators, and other nplished criticts, from different states, rious occasions, and through a period rtv years ; and all united to admit the maty of his talent. After this, it would ere injustice to deny him the palm, ith regard to the character of his clo- ce however, it is difficult, and perhaps ssible, to form a correct opinion. In his style appears to have been so differ- n different occasions, that no single de- tion would do it justice. At the same Vve may gather from this very fact, one great excellence of his speaking that it was always adapted to the sub- Iii every instance, he, considered first the case demanded, and then spoke e to the point. Not however, that he lie shortest route to it. His mind in- had never been disciplined hysystema- dy. Ofcoursethe inarch of his thoughts ften desultory, and sometimes even hut still it was always in the road, the Way to his object. He spoke for rather than display ; and his speeeli- e felt immediately, and admired only ertion. Thus the chief expression of qttence was its nature ; the only true and lasting basis of all that is real in the art. His general style of speaking, particularly in the beginning, was familiar, and even do mestic, with some tincture of rustic plain ness ; but rising gradually, with exigencies of his subject, and the inspirations ol liis ge nius, into the highest sublimities of fancy and passion, lie spoke indeed to the judg ment, and to the imagination ; but his busi ness was with the heart ; and lie governed all its motions and affections, with the power of a master, and tlie gentleness of a IViem*. His voice too, and his action and manner were all perfect in their way ; and stole up- n the minds of liis hearers, with a charm that cannot be described. In short, his elo quence was original and peculiar ; neither studied in hooks, nor copied from models ; hut di awn at once from his own breast. It was not the roaring torrent of limes, nor the silver stream of Lee. It was rather a inisrli- y and majestic river, like our ow n Potomac, winding its way to the ocean, with a silent hut certain course, persuading you to ein- >ark upon it by the. smoothness of its surface, nil then carry ing you along with it by the -tmigtli of its tide. That there were still some defects in it w hen compared with the standard of imagi nation. the ulii/uhl immensiint infinilumque ol Yuliy, we can easily suppose. He was in- lecd. as we have seen, very deficient in the knowledge of hooks, and of arts ; and there fore unable to illustrate and adorn his sub jects with the various lights and embellish ments of learning. And yet we are. inclin 'd to believe, that he was better without them. At any rate, we are satisfied that h. mild hardly have gained those, advantages, without the loss of greater. He was the ora tor of nature, and might well neglect the ac complishments of art. As a leader and manager of the house, his talents have never been equalled among us. He knew the local interest of every section if the state, and the private feelings of e very member of the body ; and could touch all the secret springs of action at once. His eloquence, indeed, was stilf the great in- sfrument of Lis influence ; though h was certainly aided by the weight of his cha racter, the happiness of his address, and a- bove all, by a certain charm about his per son, which none have ever pretended to de fine. In private life, lie was all that is delight ful and engaging. He was indeed, as \lr, Jefferson warmly declared, “ the best-hu mored companion in the world.” Always easy, affable and unassuming ; he won the confidence and friendship of all who know him, and seemingly, without, an effort for ’he purpose. Tender and faithful in all his domestic relations, lie was also exemplary in all his social duties and engagements. To wards those in particular who we call the people, iiis manners and deportment were frank and w inning, in the highest, degree.— He was of course, always extremely popular. Indeed, it is gratifying to remark, that in all the agitations of public feeling, and contests of party spirit, lie never lost, as lie never forfeited, their favor. The leading politi cians of the day, deserted and denounced him; hut lie still retained the hearts of his own. and died, as he had lived, the friend and darling of the people.” BRIEF MEMOIR OF GEN HR VL LEE. Major general Henry Lee entered as cap tain of cavalry, in the Virginia line, at the age of IS, in which situation he soon com manded the respect and attention of his coun try, by his active and daring enterprise, and the confidence of the illustrious roinnv.ilider in chief of the military force* of the U- uited States; a confidence which continued through life. He was rapidly promoted to the rank of major, and soon after to that of lieutenant colonel commandant of a separate legionary corps. While major, he planned ami executed the celebrated attack on the enemy's post at Paulas Honk, opposite to tic city of New-York, their head-quarters ; sur prised and took the garrison under the eye of the British army and navy, and safely conducted his prisoners into the American lines, many miles distant from the post ta ken. There are few enterprises to be found on military record, equal in hazard or dif ficulty, nr conducted with inure consummate skill and daring courage. It was ton, ac complished without loss, filled the ramp of tlieehemy with shame and astonishment, and shed an unfading lustre on the American arms. Sometime after, lie accompanied general Greene to the southern department of Hie United States, subsequent to the me morable and disastrous battle <R - Camden, w hich reduced under the power of the enemy the three states of Nor'/* Carolina, South Uarolia and Georgia. The many brilliant, achievements which he performed in tliat dif ficult and arduous war, under this celebrat ed and consummate commander, it is not necessary to enumerate ; they are so ittany illusti ions monuments t>f American courage mil prowess, w hich, in all future ages, will he the theme of historic praise—of grateful recollection by Lis countrymen, and of ar dent, imitation by every brave and patriotic soldier. Those states were recovered from Hie enemy. The country enjoys in peace,' independence and liberty, the benefits of his useful services. All that remains to him, is a grave and the glory of his deeds. At the close of the revolutionary war, he returned to the walks of civil life. He was often a member of Hie legislature of the state of Virginia ; one of its delegates to con gress under the confederation, and one of the convention which adopted the present con stitution of the l nited States, and which lie supported ; three years governor of the state, and afterwards a representative in the con gress of the I nited States, under the pre sent organization. While governor of Virginia, he was so le; ted Iiji pres.dent •Vuslnngt in to command the army sent to quell the insurrection which had been excited from untoward and errone ous impressions in the western counties of Pennsylvania, in which lie had the felicity to bring to order and obedience the uiisguid ed inhabitants without shedding the blood of •nie fellow-citizer,. He possessed this pecu liar characteristh as a military commander, of being alway s careful of the health and lives of his soldiers, never exposing them to unnecessary toils or fruitless hazards, al ways keeping them in readiness for useful and important enterprises. Every public station to which lie was called he filled with dignity and propriety. In private life he was kind, hospitable and generous. Too ardent in the pursuit of his objects—too confident in others, he wanted that prudence w hich is necessary to guard a- gainst imposition and pecuniary losses, and accumulate wealth. Like many other illus trious patriots, he died poor. He has left behind lijiu a valuable histori- al work, entitled “ Memoirs f the war in the southern department of tin U. States,” in which the dillh nltiesand privations endur ed by the patriotic army employed in that quarter—their courage, enterprise, and the skill and talents of tli ir faithful, active and illustrious commander, are displayed in ne ver fading colors ; a work, to use the lan guage of the publishers, by the perusal of which the patriot will Lie always delighted, the statesman informed, and the soldier in structed ; and cannot fail to interest all who lesire to understand the causes, and to know Hie difficulties of our memorable struggle. I’he tacts may lie relied n, all of which he saw, and part of whirl, bo was.” Fortune seems to have conducted him at the dose of his life, almost to the -tomb of Greene, and his bones may now repose by •he side of those of his beloved chief; friends in life, united in death, and partners in a ne ver dying fame,—JS'ut. I it. HIM!EL'.AMY. FROM the tout lomo. THE MANNERS OF THE DAY. Mr. Oldsehool,—I am a plain man, not much in the way of writing, except accounts or letters of business or so j but ! think for all 1 can make myself understood ; and I have something to say which I should be ve ry glad you would note. 1 have been pretty lucky in trade. I have made money, and have a parcel of girls growing up. I subscribe to your Port Folio for the benefit of my daughters ; having sent them all to Me, jaudon's school. They can read very well, and they like reading to But what’s the good of reading, Mr. F school, if they don’t learn something ?-( v jn see what makes me mad is, that peo( mlls , think, when they begin to get rich,’ J be in the fasihon, and spend their ^ * ( , pat mg nothing. My girls want ty," aV8 s U8l . (1 par ies, just as if they’d bo£ j „„ to it, and nave whins, and ir ’ f . , , . 1 . 4ense—not that l houses, aiul kisses*and nr • .. ... .. .. ... in sure the cnil- carc lor the money, sir ' . . , * i ,inch as they can eat; dren are welcome to a: y . . i . ■ .i • i x, . i . .ter he at work than ,l,t * tl,, " k ; l,p y ,l Jde down. Then they a single day, hut walk Cllesnut street ‘ nd f ? ut to the SrUuy!1 £!’ - , . i the Basm, for exercise, ior- ' *Y ! - mother tells them that in her sooth I 1 lie* d they wanted to steal time to read, they'd work the faster and he done with it. Now w hat l want is to break up these foolish no tions and gadding. 1 tell you, Mr. Old- school, there is no need of it; young hearty girls have got health enough without exer cising to the Schuylkill every day. They had better jump about the house, and put their baud to, and help their mothers a little, that they see worried to death, aVid obliged to do half their work themselves, if they’ve ever so many servants. Now this is what I want you to tell ’em, for they think a great deal of the Port Folio, and they say it’s very gen teel to be of your opinion ; my wife too, is a sensible, woman, hut she humours the girls too much about fashions, and lets’em be idle, and, as far as I can see, she dont think bet ter of it than 1 do ; hut then, she says it’s certain, genteel girls dont work now as they used to do in her time, and her daughters can’t help doing as their acquaintances do. S.i I wish Mr. Oldsehool, you would do as the Spectator used to do. I read it when Y was a young man, and I remember to this day bow I was diverted with the advice he would give to the ladies. Now I would not have, you think, sir, that 1 want to shut up my daughters and let no body see them, and have them fit to be seen too—I’m not stingy—what good does my money do me if 1 can’t put it on my wife and daughters ? I dont sec any body look better in the streets than they do. They’ve got as fine shawls as any ladies I see going, and my w ife’s is an India one, and they may buy as many bonnets as they like ; it’s the. shoema ker's hills I dont like, which if I find a good lump in the end of the year, I don’t know what they do, that can hardly make both ends meet. My maxim is, that all the bills should have “ Received in full” at the bot tom, and them that does that needn’t care for the bank directors, that’s bringing ruin, and misery, and old aristocracy, that we. fought against, among the people, i mean to stand ip for the good old times of Gen. Washing ton, when it was all fair play and aboveboard, and no sham, and them that paid their debts were good citizens. Now I don’t expert, Mr. Oldsehool, that you are going to print this letter, but as you’re a scholar and know some thing, I humbly crave that you’ll write a lit tle about this, and not put any Latin r French in it, hut just say it in good lior‘ s ^ English, as the Spectator always did, my wife and daughters, and all nU'*’ 8 °* plain understanding, can read it, '', S you know, if they don’t mind it^' ^ J.fic.y no more to he said about the ij* * .nd ae won’t take advice, we can’t (s J j ^hac, Dr. Franklin used to sayj : * tf< What cant he f .... M ;‘ st . be laying, which I tli ink is a giftie S en»nt, From jctirJ M0Tlf Y TRADE. Drydei’s sluggishness ov C/m)'ncrrm;;; cil(jati ; )tli 0 f which even he dullness in r 4 . av( j ,^pon which Dr. John- himself com‘* ‘ ^.urli, probably arose from son speru!*- 0 ’’ rl jnial spirits alone. These a definery (1 ' an anv other cause, will ac^ perhaps^" r (ld( . st y/ reserve and dilfideltce count ft " oy men of genius are remarka- for ivhich; spi)kc bllt Utt | ( ,. The wit of hie. v V never flowed till midnight. Pope. I homj’ rvc ,i j () be sjRntni company, till he wiis Sted his fancy with a cheerful glass.— ' i;l !son’s taciturnity is notorious. It was hill late at night, when claret circulated ' ’rely, that any portion of that humor and elegance could be elicited, of which none but his most intimate friends knew him. to he possessed. All these were men of low ani mal spirits anil of delicate nerves.—They therefore needed more than an ordinary spur to unfold and display their intellectual trea sures. — A gentleman on his travels, railed his ser vant to the side of the post chaise. Tom, says he, here is a guinea which is too light, and 1 can get no body to take it: do you take it and part with it some how or other on the road. Yes, sir, says the footman, I will endeavour. When they came to their inn at night, the gentleman called to his servant to know if he had passed off the guinea ? Yes, sir, says the man, I did slily. Aye, Tom, says the master, I fancy, thou art a sly sort of fellow ; but tell me how ? Why, sir, says rhe footman, the people refused it at break fast, and so they did where your honour, dined; but as I had a groat to pay at the 1 mother tells them that in her Vladies didn't use to want so n il h e»- rt ,se ’ walking about; they used to make and sweep their rooms, and ineir own clothes, and nobody thought ro gen to e l°g i rls' dV sue h stt^ihCT iK ^ ... ii :r ii.-., tlii.il> enlTles. and and the I very well if they work their ruffles, and ^ make their trimmings, I think they cal! j S< '- thetn. G’s well if you haven’t done some of the mischief yourself, yon and Mr. Dcnnie, and gentlemen that have nothing to do but to make books—I’m a little dubious l assure there wiis something else, to do when 1 was young—and often my wife says, how she used to steal a novel into her pocket when she wiis sent up stairs to work—then there is such a laugh at pockets, and seventy six ers, and all that. One thing I can say, il man put it in his pocket ami never Dr. Johnson once in speaking of a quar relsome fellow, said, “ if lie had two ideas i i Lis head, they would/;;// out with each other. ' Divitte Wisdom intending to detain re some time on earth, has done Well to cove,- with a veil the prospect of life to come ; for if our sight could clearly distinguish the op posite bank, who would remain on this tern postuoua coast ?—-.Vuiictue de Stud