In two years after he was called to perform more painful duties. He was appointed a judge of the civil and criminal courts of his native state, under the new order of things. Several persons were arraigned before him, charged with a treasonable correspondence with the enemy—they were found guilty, and condemned to be hung in sight of the British lines at Charleston. With feelings of humanity, but with the firmness of a Roman, he performed his duty, and pronounced upon them the penalty of the law.

Judge Heyward also participated in the military perils of “the times that tried men’s souls.” He commanded a company of artillery at the battle of Beaufort, and was severely wounded. At the attack upon Savannah he was also actively engaged. At the siege of Charleston he commanded a battalion, and was one of the unfortunate prisoners who were transferred to St. Augustine. During his absence his property was pillaged, and his amiable and accomplished wife, the daughter of Mr. Matthews, whom he had married in 1773, was laid in the grave. The tidings of these heart-rending afflictions did not reach him until he was exchanged and returned to Philadelphia. With the calm and dignified fortitude of a christian, a philosopher, and a hero, he met the shafts of afflictive fate. He mourned deeply, but submissively, the premature exit of the companion of his bosom. His physical sufferings and loss of property he freely offered at the altar of liberty, without a murmur or a sigh.

He again resumed his judicial duties upon the bench, and discharged them ably and faithfully until 1798. He was an influential member of the convention that framed the Constitution of South Carolina in 1790. Old age and infirmity finally admonished him that his mission on earth was fast drawing to a close, and he retired from the public arena, covered with epic and civic honours, lasting as the pages of history. In the full fruition of a nation’s gratitude and of a nation’s freedom he spent his last years, and in March, 1809, went to his final rest, leaving his second wife, Miss E. Savage, and his children, to mourn the loss of a kind husband and tender father; and his country to regret the loss of a devoted patriot, an able judge, and an honest man.


ROBERT MORRIS.

Men, whose motives inducing them to action are free from self, aiming exclusively at public good, are like angels’ visits, few and far between. Perhaps no era recorded on the pages of ancient or modern history, presents as many examples of disinterested patriotism as that of the American revolution. The sages who conceived, planned, and consummated the declaration of our independence, pledged their LIVES, THEIR FORTUNES, AND THEIR SACRED HONOURS, to carry out the principles promulgated by that sacred instrument. Never did men perform their vows more faithfully; never did men redeem their pledges more nobly. Many of them not only placed all their available means in the public treasury, but extended their private credit to its utmost tension, to obtain supplies for the infant Republic, then bursting from embryo.—No one rendered more efficient pecuniary aid in the advancement of the cause of equal rights and American liberty than Robert Morris. He was an Englishman by birth, born at Liverpool, Lancashire, England, on the 20th day of January, 1734. His father was a respectable merchant, and immigrated to this country in 1746, and settled at Oxford, on the eastern shore of Maryland. He then sent for his son, whom he had left behind, who arrived when he was thirteen years of age. He received a good commercial education, but not classical.

At the age of fifteen, he was deprived of his father by death. He had previously entered the counting-house of Charles Willing, then one of the most thorough and enterprising merchants of the city of Philadelphia. After having acquired a knowledge of commercial concerns, Mr. Willing established him in business, and remained his constant friend and adviser. For several years he prospered alone, but finding the cares of time pressing upon him, he concluded to take a partner, to aid him in the journey of life. That partner was the amiable and accomplished Mary, daughter of Col. White, and sister to the late venerable and learned Bishop White of Philadelphia. She possessed every quality calculated to adorn her sex and render connubial felicity complete; and withal, was rich—a desideratum with some, but a miserable substitute for genuine esteem, sincere affection and true friendship. No man or woman, with a clear head, a good heart, and sound discretion ever married for the sake of riches alone.

“Can gold buy Friendship? Impudence of hope!
As well mere man an angel might beget.”

Fortunately for Mr. Morris and his partner, their highest treasure was mutual affection, flowing from the pure fountain of their kindred hearts, anxious to promote the reciprocal happiness of each other, and the felicity of all around them.