A Biography of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence, and of Washington and Patrick Henry. L. Carroll Judson
Читать онлайн книгу.of tears, and slumbered, quietly and sweetly, in the arms of death—in the full faith of rising to a glorious immortality in realms of bliss beyond the skies.
By his will he prohibited all pomp and parade at his funeral. He was anxious that the plain republican manner of his long and useful life, should be strictly observed in the mournful obsequies of his interment. He was buried on the 21st of April, in the north-west corner of Christ Church yard, where a plain marble slab, even with the surface of the earth, points to where he lies. With his, moulders the dust of his wife, with whom he had lived in harmony and peace. No other inscription is upon the tomb except his and her name.
His death was deeply lamented throughout the civilized world. Congress ordered mourning to be observed throughout the United States one month. The event was solemnized, and many eulogies pronounced in France. The National Assembly decreed that each of its members should wear a badge of mourning on the occasion for three days. The sensations produced there by his death, were as imposing and interesting, and celebrated with as much devotion as those recently witnessed in our own country on the death of La Fayette.
In reviewing the life of this great benefactor of mankind, we find a richer variety to admire than in that of any individual upon the historic page. In whatever station he moved he was a luminary of the first magnitude. He entered upon the stage of action at a time when the world needed just such a man; and continued upon it just long enough to finish all he had begun. He was found just equal to every work he undertook, and always stopped at the golden point of the finishing stroke—a modest hint for me to close. You who profess to admire his virtues, talents, and usefulness, prove your sincerity by imitating his examples.
ROGER SHERMAN.
The man who has been rocked in the cradle of letters from his childhood; who has become familiar with general science, the classics, and philosophy; who has had a father to aid, and friends to caress him; whose path has been smoothed by uninterrupted prosperity—and does not ascend the ladder of fame, is either untrue to himself, or destitute of native talent. With all the advantages of an education lavished upon him, he sinks into obscurity, and the fond anticipations and future hopes of a doting parent, set in gloom.
When, on the other hand, we see a man, whose opportunities for acquiring an education during childhood and youth carried him not far beyond the confines of the spelling book; a man, who had no father or guardian to warn him against the quicksands of error or point him to the temple of science; his intellect enveloped in the rude attire of nature’s quarry at the age of twenty; when we see such a man bursting the chains that bind his mental powers—divesting himself of the dark mantle of ignorance—unveiling his native talents, and shining in all the beauty of intelligence and greatness—we are filled with admiration and delight.
Such a man was Roger Sherman, the great-grandson of Captain John Sherman, who came from England to Watertown, Massachusetts, in 1635. Roger was born in Newton, Massachusetts, on the 19th of April, 1721. His father, William Sherman, was a respectable farmer, with means too limited to educate his son, and, at an early age, bound him to a shoemaker. Like Franklin, at the age of nineteen, he wandered from his master to seek his fortune, and like him, he had a genius that no shop could confine, no obstacle intimidate, or difficulty paralyze. The course of his mind was onward, upward; like a new and blazing star, illuminating the horizon as it rose. Nature designed him to be great and good; he obeyed her dictates.
He went to New Milford, in Connecticut, where he followed shoe-making three years, living within the strictest rules of economy, contributing from his earnings to the support of a widowed mother, with a family of small children. The education of his young brothers and sisters, also received his attention. Every leisure moment he devoted to books, often having one open before him when using his lap stone. With each succeeding day, his mind expanded, unfolding beauties rich and rare. Every obstacle to the pursuit of knowledge, melted before his untiring industry; he ascended the hill of science with a firm and steady pace.
In June, 1743, he removed his mother and her family to New Milford, and entered into the mercantile business with an elder brother—still pursuing his studies as opportunities permitted. He soon stored his capacious memory with a fund of rich and useful information, that ultimately placed him on the pinnacle of public esteem and usefulness. About that time, he made a public profession of religion, which he adorned through subsequent life. In 1745, he was appointed surveyor of Litchfield county, having made himself familiar with mathematics. Like his contemporary and friend, Benjamin Franklin, he made the calculations of an almanac several years, for a publisher in New York.
At the age of twenty-eight, he married Miss Elizabeth Hartwell, of Staughton, Massachusetts, who died in 1780, leaving seven children. He subsequently married Miss Rebecca Prescott, who lived to have eight children, all of whom, with those by his first wife, he carefully trained in the ways of wisdom and virtue. He also supported his mother, and a maiden sister whose health was poor, until death relieved them, at an advanced age, from the toils of life.
In the prosecution of his literary pursuits, he turned his attention to the study of law, in which he made astonishing proficiency. In 1754, he was admitted to the bar, better prepared to act well his part and do justice to his clients, than many who are ushered into notice under the high floating banners of a collegiate diploma.
The following year he was appointed a justice of the peace and elected a member of the colonial assembly; an honour that was conferred upon him during the remainder of his residence at that place. He was highly esteemed by his fellow citizens. His reputation as a lawyer and statesman stood high, and his private worth enabled him to exercise a salutary influence upon those around him. For industry, sound logic, prudence, and discretion, he stood unrivalled in the colony. Strong common sense, the true helm of human action, marked his whole career; rendering him substantially and extensively useful to his fellow men and his country. He was a philanthropist of the highest order, a patriot of the purest water.
In 1759, he was appointed a judge of the county court of Litchfield, and discharged his official duties with great faithfulness and impartiality, correcting vice and promoting virtue.
Two years after, he removed to New Haven, where he was appointed justice of the peace, elected to the assembly, and, in 1765, was placed upon the judicial bench of the county court. He received the degree of master of arts from Yale College, of which he was treasurer for many years, fulfilling the trust with scrupulous honesty and fidelity.
In 1766, he was elected a member of the executive council, which was hailed as an auspicious event by the friends of liberal principles. The mother country had manifested a disposition to impose unjust taxation upon the Americans. It required discernment, experience, nerve and decision, to comprehend and oppose the corrupt plans of an avaricious ministry. The colonies had borne the main burden of the French war, in which they had sacrificed large sums of money and fountains of their richest blood. After years of incessant toil, the foe had been conquered, an honourable peace for England obtained, the frontier settlements in a measure relieved from danger, and the soldier again became the citizen.
Whilst their rejoicings on that occasion were yet on the wings of echo, oppression from the crown threatened to blast their fond anticipations of happiness and repose, and bind them in chains, more to be dreaded than the tomahawk and scalping knife.
This colony had furnished more money and men, and lost more of her bravest sons in the French war than any other with the same population. Mr. Sherman had been an active member of the assembly during the period of its prosecution, and remembered well the sacrifices that had been made to gratify the king. He understood perfectly the rights of his own country and those of the crown. He was eminently prepared to discover approaching danger and sound the alarm. He was well calculated to probe the intrigues and venality of designing men, although the Atlantic rolled between him and them.
Mr. Grenville, who was at the head of the British ministry, determined to reduce his long-nursed theory of taxing the American colonies, to immediate practice. The alarm was immediately spread. Appeals for redress, petitions, and remonstrances, numerously signed, were forwarded