England, where he remained during the residue of his mission, upon leave of ab

sence.

Nor was this mortification confined to his friends. Mr. R. himself felt, upon his return to the United States, how much he had sunk in the public estimation by his sharing in the public bounty, and he was not slow in letting the administration know, that though he had accepted of the bribe, they had not been able to buy him up. The proclamation excited his peculiar displeasure, and it was easy to perceive, that in no great length of time he would be arrayed in deadly hostility against the administration which he had mainly contributed to bring in power. This short period, however, was denied him. Mr. Randolph's constitution, which was always frail, was now fast breaking up.

In the beginning of May he travelled towards the north, apparently with the intention of sailing for Europe. When he arrived at Philadelphia, however, he found himself too ill to proceed, and sent for Dr. Parish for medical advice.

The physician soon found that his case was hopeless, and so informed him.

The remainder of the scene is in the words of Dr. Parish:

"He now made preparations to die. Between him and his faithful servant there appeared to be a complete understanding. He directed John to bring his father's breast button, which was immediately produced. He then directed him to place it in the bosom of his shirt. It was an old fashioned, large size gold stud. John placed it in the button hole of his shirt bosom; but to fix it completely, required a hole on the opposite side. When this was announced to his master, he quickly said, get a knife and cut one.' I handed my penknife to John, who cut the hole, and fixed the valued relic to the satisfaction of the expiring patient. A napkin was also called for, and was placed by John over the breast of the patient. For a short time he lay perfectly quiet; his eyes were closed, and I concluded he was disposed to sleep. He suddenly roused from this state, with the words' Remorse! Remorse!' It was twice repeated, the last time at the top of his voice, evidently with great agitation. He cried out, Let me see the word.' No reply followed, having learned enough of the character of my patient to ascertain that when I did know exactly what to say, it was best to say nothing. He then exclaimed, 'Get a dictionary-

let me see the word.' I cast my eyes around, and told him I believed there was none in the room. Write it down, thenlet me see the word.' I picked up one of his cards from the table, Randolph, of Roanoke,' and inquired if I should write on that? Yes, nothing more proper;' then with my pencil I wrote Remorse. He took the card in his hand in a hurried manner, and fastened his eyes on it with great intensity. Write it on the back,' he exclaimed. I did so, and handed it him again. He was excessively agitated at this period: he repeated, 'Remorse! You have no idea what it is-you can form no idea whatever it has contributed to bring me to my present situation; but I have looked to the Lord Jesus Christ, and hope I have obtained pardon.' He then said 'Now let John take your pencil, and draw a line under the word;' which was accordingly done. I inquired what was to be done with the card? He replied, 'Put it in your pocket-take care of it-when I am dead, look at it.'”

He now requested other persons to be called, in order that he might formally emancipate his slaves, and to enforce his directions in his last will for their subsequent maintenance and support. He soon afterwards sunk into a state of insensibility, and died without a struggle.

Mr. Randolph was remarkable at school for his proficiency, although his reading was desultory. He was also noted for a quarrelsome temper, and what would not have been readily supposed, for a disposition to flatter those whom he sought to propitiate. He was thoroughly skilled in English literature, and also in the history and topography of that country. This taste led him to acquire that kind of information, and it was of great service to him in his congressional career.

Mr. Randolph was tall and thin in person; his complexion sallow, and his physiognomy unprepossessing. His eyes were dark and brilliant, and his mouth indicated genius, but his face was diminutive, and not characteristic of a high order of intellect.

As an orator his qualifications were extraordinary, although peculiar. His readiness, a remarkable felicity of expression, rarely using any but the aptest word; his unrivalled powers of sarcasm, his epigrammatic style, and a gesticulation which gave a full effect to his keen retorts, all combined to awaken the attention of the audience. Still, although the imagination

was pleased, and the admiration of the hearer excited, his judgment was rarely satisfied. Mr. Randolph was deficient in his reasoning powers. He had not that strong grasp of intellect which enables its possessor to comprehend the whole subject at once, and to present it, every part, in due proportion to the consideration of his audience. He was still more wanting in high resolve and disinterested purpose. His mind was incapable of elevating itself to the consideration of the various interests of this great republic. It could not embrace them all, as belonging to the union, nor realize that that union was one and indivisible.

Mr. Randolph never considered himself as a citizen or representative of the United States. He was merely a citizen of Virginia; and as such, he regarded himself as representing no other interests than hers. Hence it was, that with all his advantages and peculiar qualifications for public life, his political career may be deemed an entire failure. During twenty-six years that he passed in congress, exercising always a great, and for a part of the time, a controlling influence in the public councils, he never proposed a measure of permanent and obvious utility, or which is calculated to endear his name to the affections of posterity. No part of the public policy bears the impress of his ge

nius.

Although the congressional debates are filled with his pointed sayings and epigrammatic remarks, he has left no evidence in the statute book of his ever having been in the national legislature; and his whole history seems intended to exemplify the inferiority of wit to wisdom; and to show of how little avail to their possessor are the highest powers of eloquence and imagination, aided by the purest taste, and the happiest choice of language, when not guided by enlarged views and patriotic purposes.

In private life, and at home, Mr. Randolph presented a more attractive portrait. As a friend, although capricious, he was sincere and affectionate.

As a

neighbour, he was kind and hospitable; and as a master, his slaves testified by their attachment, to his humanity and benevolence. The last act of his life indicated his regard for their welfare, and their future comfort and happiness. Had the same disposition predominated more largely in his public career, the world would not have witnessed such a total perversion of his powers, nor lamented that they were worse than lost to the public service,

from the absence of all proper motive for their direction and control.

JOSIAH S. JOHNSTON,

May 19, 1833, by the explosion of the steam-boat Lioness, on the Red River, Josiah Stodard Johnston, senator of the U.S.

Mr. Johnston was a native of Connecticut. At the age of nineteen or twenty he removed, with his father, the late Dr. Johnston of that state, to the neighbourhood of Maysville, where his father continued to reside, till his decease, the last year. Mr. Johnston's professional education was received in Kentucky; but, after a short time passed there, he resolved to enter on the wide field of liberal adventure, which was opening in the southwestern part of the Union. After a short time spent at Natchez, he determined to repair to the Red river country, where he established himself at Alexandria, in the parish of Rapides, in the profession of the law. Nothing could seem more uninviting than the state of society which then existed in this part of the country. The population consisted of a remnant of Spanish colonists, and of adventurers from the U. S.: the neighbourhood of the Spanish frontier rendered it a stopping place for many persons whose relations to society, in the old states, were such as to make it very convenient for them to be able, at any moment, to escape in a foreign jurisdiction. The new government was, as yet, scarcely authorized; and, in a population of this description, could derive no strength from that public opinion, which is the best support of all government. Something very near a state of nature accordingly prevailed, with very little borrowed from civilization but its vices. Fatal quarrels were continually happening. The neighbourhood was distracted by feuds of the most embittered character. Affrays in the street were of constant occurrence, and duels not less so. Every body went armed; and life was too easily taken to be of high Where life is so little regarded, manners, of course, are wild and reckless.

account.

Such was the population, in which Mr. Johnston, a young New Englander, established himself at the age of two or threeand-twenty, in the practice of the law, and with immediate and entire success. His native frankness of character made him the favourite of all classes; and his extraordinary discretion kept him from being entangled in their controversies.

He was never engaged in a quafrel, in a community where it was so difficult to avoid it; but, on very many occasions he had the good fortune, by his prudent umpirage between those who were at issue, to prevent a resort to the field. In a very short period he was advanced to the bench, where he was equally successful, in maintaining the dignity and authority of the magistracy. He was soon elected as a member of the house of assembly in the new state of Louisiana. When NewOrleans was threatened by the British troops, at the close of the war, a regiment ws raised in Rapides, under Mr. Johnston's command as colonel. He hastened to the capital, but did not arrive till after the overthrow of the enemy. On his return to Alexandria, he resumed his judicial functions, daily growing in the regards of his fellow-citizens. In 1821 he took his seat in the house of representatives as a member of the seventeenth congress; and, on the appointment of Mr. Brown, a year or two afterwards, as minister of the United States to Paris, Mr. Johnston was elected to fill his place, and has been twice re-elected, to the senate of the United States.

As a member of congress, Mr. Johnston enjoyed a reputation of the most enviable character. Mr. Johnston's style of debate was business-like and conversational. He rarely rose except to speak briefly, and closely to the matter in hand. He did not aim at oratorical display, but sought, by a pertinent statement of facts, and a common-sense logic, to satisfy and convince his audience. He rarely addressed the senate in what is called a set speech; but his speech on Foote's resolutions was one of the soundest, and most instructive, which was made in that debate. During Mr. Adams' administration, he filled, with great ability, the place of chairman of the committee on commerce, in which capacity he made a very able report on the British colonial trade question, which he also supported in a speech. He was also a member of the senate's committee of finance. He had paid particular attention to the great question of the bank of the United States, and understood the subject thoroughly. The subject of the tariff engaged much of his attention, not merely as a question vitally important to Louisiana, but as closely interwoven with the general weal. He wrote one or two very able pamphlets, one of which was published with his name, on the effect of the repeal of the duty on sugar; and pointed out, with singular felicity, the extent to

which the prosperity of almost every other great interest in the country was connect ed with the culture of this important staple. This was done on a conviction of duty to his state and to the Union. He was himself, as a planter, exclusively engaged in the culture of cotton. This circumstance caused him to feel the unsoundness of the statements of the nullifiers, as to the effect of the tariff on the price of cotton. His personal observation enabled him to trace the languishing state of that culture in South Carolina, to its true cause-a cause so notorious and powerful in its operation, as to make it wonderful that any other should be thought of-the competition of the inferior and exhausted soils of South Carolina, with the newer and richer soils of the south-west. As a cotton planter, Mr. Johnston bore the clearest testimony to the beneficial effects of the establishment of American manufactures upon the prosperity of that branch of industry.

Convinced from his own observation and experience, that the complaints of the south, against the tariff, were without foundation in fact, Mr. Johnston of course looked upon the heresy of nullification with peculiar disapprobation. He regarded it as a preposterous remedy for an imaginary evil; and all his influence was thrown into the scale of the constitution. Such, however, was the mildness of his manner, such the kindness of his disposition, such his candour, such his known personal disinterestedness, that, perhaps, there was not a member of congress who possessed, to an equal extent, the personal respect of those, who differed from him on this great and exciting question.

He was unremitted in his devotion to the duties of his station. To his constituents, he was faithful, to a degree not easily surpassed. Their interests were ever uppermost in his mind; and every act of legislation, which concerned them, received his unwearied attention, from its inception to its close. He made their affairs, public or private, which were committed to him, his own, till he had done all in his power, to accomplish what was desired. No labour was too great, in committee, on the floor, or in private conference with other members, when he saw the possibility of advancing the interests intrusted to his care.

Few persons had pursued their political career with more flattering success; but this success left Mr. Johnston perfectly unambitious. His total freedom from selfish aims, was one great cause of his influence and popularity. No one ever suspected, that he had a private end in view,

in any thing which he either did or forebore to do. During the administration of Mr. Adams, he ranked among the most prominent of the political friends of the President; and was known to be on the most intimate footing of confidence with the secretary of state. His character, talents, and merits, would have well warranted the executive, in gratifying any wish which could have been entertained for his higher advancement, by his warmest friends. But nothing would have pained him more, than to have had it thought, that he would permit interest to be made on his behalf, for any office in the gift of the administration. It was the wish of his friends, two or three years since, to tender him a nomination as Governor of Louisiana; but, highly as he respected the state of his adoption, he found no temptation in the honours of her chief magistracy. He had a passion for active efficient usefulness, and the honour and eclat of station were the part of it, which was not only not attractive, but peculiarly burdensome to him.

Mr. Johnston's disposition was eminently social. The Kentucky cordiality of manner, had in him been engrafted on the New-England discretion. He selected his intimate associates with care; but no one possessed, in a higher degree, the happy art of keeping up an agreeable and friendly intercourse, with a large number of persons, of various tempers and tastes. He adapted himself to every kind of society, with peculiar ease, and his company was equally welcome in all the circles of the metropolis,-political, fashionable, and

domestic

No man ever understood more thoroughly, or practised more faithfully, the sacred duty of friendship. His time, his advice, his purse, were freely bestowed, wherever they could serve a friend. He could sacrifice his convenience and interest with as much alacrity, in the service of a friend, as most men manifest in the pursuit of their own ends. His personal intercourse was characterized by great gentleness and suavity of manner. The rights and feelings of the absent, were always safe in his keeping; and he probably had passed through life, the object of as little personal enmity, as any public man in the country. Even party malignity, which spares so few, left him unassailed.

No man was more perfectly free from affectation and pretence. Honesty, cordiality, and singleness of purpose, were striking qualities of his character. He never made an effort to give himself consequence,―never attuned his voice to his

own praise; and wore the multiplied honours, which had been bestowed upon him, with the unconscious ease of true

merit.

Nor was he less exempt from intrigue. Although the greater part of his life had been passed as a public man, in which capacity he had filled a succession of stations, most of them depending on popular favour, he knew the arts of the demagogue only as he saw them daily practised by others. He knew no path to public favour, but public usefulness. Content to serve the people, he never courted nor flattered them; and, residing in that part of the country where the personal interference of candidates in the elections is not discountenanced by public sentiment, probably no individual, who had been as long and as variously in public life, had left his advancement more entirely to the care of others.-N. E. Mag.

OLIVER WOLCOTT.

In New-York, on the evening of the first of June, 1833, OLIVER WOLCOTT, in the 74th year of his age. The name of Oliver Wolcott, signed by the father of him whose death is now commemmorated, to the declaration of independence, is associated in our historical annals with nought but illustrious deeds. The signer of the declaration of independence, and who was afterwards made a Brigadier-general on the field of battle at Saratoga-and subsequently to the peace was long governor of Connecticut-had in him who is now gone to join the heroic band of the revolution, a worthy son. While yet a boy, he marched as a volunteer in the hastily mustered forces that repelled the British marauders, who, during the revolutionary war, attacked Danbury in Connecticut, and burnt Norwalk. His mother, with Spartan heroism, buckled on his knapsack, and placed the musket in his hands. His whole subsequent life proved that the virtues and patriotism of such parents were not degenerate in him. Educated for the bar, he had hardly entered upon his career when the discerning eye of Washington selected him for comptroller of the treasury; in which office he remained till Alexander Hamilton retired from the post of secretary of the treasury, when the same unerring judgment promoted the comptroller to the head of the department, and made him secretary. This office Mr. Wolcott filled, with unquestioned ability and integrity, during the residue of General Washington's administration, and the whole

term of that of John Adams. He was one of the circuit judges appointed by Mr. Adams under the judiciary act passed at the close of his administration, but which, ere it had well gone into effect, was repealed under Mr. Jefferson. Thus thrown out of public life, at the early age of forty, Mr. Wolcott removed to New-York in 1800, and commenced business as a merchant. He was soon at the head of a flourishing house in the China trade, and was president of the Merchants' Bank, and subsequently of the Bank of America. On the breaking out of the war with Great Britain, in 1812, he closed his mercantile concerns, and, under the full conviction that the war was both just and politic, gave the whole support of his name, and means, and talents, to the administrationdiffering therein from the political friends with whom he had always before acted. After the close of the war, Mr. Wolcott returned to his native village of Litchfield, in Connecticut, occupying himself in the quiet cultivation of a farm, and the society of his books. He was soon called by the voice of his fellow-citizens to preside over the state-as his father for many years had done before-and for ten successive elections he was chosen governor of Connecticut.

At the close of this period he removed again to New-York, to be in the vicinity of his children, who were settled there; and, living in great retirement and privacy, he there breathed his last. The character of Mr. Wolcott was strongly marked. Stern, inflexible, and devoted, in all that duty, honour, and patriotism enjoined, he was in private life of the utmost gentleness, kindness, and simplicity.

SAVARY, DUKE OF ROVIGO. June 1. At Paris, the Duke of Rovigo, one of the ministers of France under the Emperor Napoleon.

Anne Jean Marie René Savary was a native of Mare, a little village in Champagne, and born April 26, 1774.

Like his father, major in the fortress of Sedan, Savery entered the army at an early age. His promotion was not rapid; though he served in the campaigns under Hoche, and Pichegru, and Moreau, at the time of the expedition to Egypt, he had obtained no higher rank than that of Lieutenant-colonel.

In the Egyptian campaign he was aid

de-camp to General Dessaix, with whom he returned to France, and hastened to join the first consul, in Italy. When that brave chief fell at his side, he went to communicate the event to Buonaparte, who placed him on his personal stati.

Savary was not slow in perceiving that the surest way to fortune was the favour of the first consul, whose ready instru ment he became. He neither hesitated to superintend the murder of the Duke d'Enghein, nor to preside over the most odious system of espionage ever devised. As head of the counter, or private police, his object was not merely to spy the spyers to watch the motions of Fouché and his police-but to trace the footsteps of every one whom he suspected to be unfriendly to Buonaparte.

After the peace of Tilsit, Savary was sent on a mission to St. Petersburgh, not so much to transact any important business, as to spy out the sentiments of the court and people. On his first arrival, the very inn-keepers refused to admit him. The emperor, indeed, received him with civility, but the empress and the whole court regarded him with equal scorn and hatred.

The next exploit of General Savary was to prevail on the Prince of the Asturias to meet Buonaparte at Bayonne.

When Napoleon, in the consciousness of power, declared that the house of Bourbon had ceased to reign, and that the crown of Spain must adorn the brows of his brother Joseph, Savary, whom he had created Duke of Rovigo, was sent to assume ad interim the command of the French forces at Madrid. He was soon recalled; and such was the indignation of the people at the part he had acted, in the imprisonment of Ferdinand, that he had the utmost difficulty to leave Spain alive. He disguised himself in mean apparel, and rode some miles in advance of his carriage.

In the Austrian campaign of 1809, Savary, as usual, accompanied the emperor, and served with some distinction. Soon after his return, (June, 1810,) on the disgrace of Fouché, he was presented with the portfolio of the general police; an appointment which gave great dissatisfaction to the Parisians.

It was Fouché's task to inititiate the new minister into the secrets of his office; but according to his statement he did no such thing; he communicated only what he could not avoid; he showed the wheels