Although partial to the French, when difficulties arose between that nation and England, Mr. Rutledge strongly censured the conduct of M. Genét and the French Directory for the stringent measures adopted. He was a moderate—not an ultra party man and always acted from a sense of duty and a pure desire for the good of the whole. His was a stern unflinching moderation—calculated to awe a mob, paralyze a faction and preserve pure and undefiled that lofty patriotism which commands esteem and respect and leads to peace and safety.
In 1798 Mr. Rutledge was elected governor of his native state. Soon after he entered upon the imposing duties of his office, disease suddenly seized and handed him over to the King of Terrors in the bright career of his gubernatorial term. During the legislative session of 1800, his health failed so rapidly that he felt a full assurance that his dissolution was fast approaching. He was anxious to return to Charleston that he might yield up his breath where he first inhaled the atmosphere. The constitution required the presence of the governor during the session of that body and so scrupulous was he to fulfil its letter, that he determined to remain unless both branches passed a resolution sanctioning his absence. The subject was submitted and becoming a matter of debate he at once withdrew it and remained until the adjournment. He was barely able to reach home when he laid down upon the sick bed and yielded to the only power that could conquer him—Death—on the 23d of January 1800. The same fortitude that had characterized his whole life was fully exemplified during his illness and dying hour. His loss was keenly felt and deeply mourned by the entire community of the state and by the friends of freedom throughout the nation. South Carolina had lost one of her brightest ornaments—one of her noblest sons.
Governor Rutledge stood high as an orator. He was familiar with the machinery of human nature—knew when to address the judgment and when the passions. In exciting the sympathy of a jury he had no equal at the Charleston Bar. He knew how, when and where to be logical and what is all important in public and private life—he knew how, when and where to speak and what to say and stopped when done. His private worth and public services were an honor to himself, gratifying to his friends and beneficial to his country. His usefulness continued to the close of life—his fame is untarnished with error—his examples are worthy of imitation—his life had no blank. He married for his first wife, Harriet, daughter of Edward Middleton his colleague in the Continental Congress. By her he had a son and daughter—the latter settled in Charleston—the former, Maj. Henry M. Rutledge, was one of the pioneers of Tennessee. God grant that his descendants may imitate the virtues of their ancestor and fill the blank occasioned by the death of the wise, judicious, benevolent, patriotic and high-minded Edward Rutledge.
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 the philosophy of the schools—who has had a wealthy father to aid and doting mother to caress—who has enjoyed an uninterrupted course in some far-famed college and the most refined society—such a man is expected to mount the ladder of fame and become a shining light to those whose advantages have been limited to a primary school or no school. If, with all these advantages lavished upon him he sinks into obscurity, the fond anticipations of his doting parents and anxious friends set in gloom. Such has often been the case.
When we see a man whose opportunities of acquiring an education during childhood and youth carried him not far beyond the spelling-book—a man who had no father to aid him by wealth—warn him against the quicksands of error or point him to the temple of science—his intellect encased in the rude quarry of nature at the age of twenty—when we see such a man bursting the fetters that bind his mental powers-throwing off the dark mantle of ignorance—by a mighty effort unveiling his dormant 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 Capt. John Sherman, who came from England to Watertown, Mass, in 1635. Roger was the son of William Sherman, born in Newton, Mass. on the 19th of April 1721. His father was a respectable farmer with means too limited to educate his son and bound him an apprentice to a shoemaker. At the age of nineteen he left his master to seek his fortune. His genius had become restless in embryo and pressed for enlargement. No shop could confine—no obstacle deter, no impediment prevent its expansion. The course of his mind was onward and upward like a blazing star, illuminating the horizon of his intellect as it rose. Nature designed him to be great and good—he obeyed her kind commands.
He went to New Milford, Conn. where he followed his trade for three years, devoting every leisure moment to his books, often having one open before him when using his lap-stone. Every obstacle to the pursuit of knowledge was removed by his untiring industry—he ascended the hill of science with a steady pace. He lived within the strictest rules of economy, appropriating a part of his earnings to the support of a widowed mother with a family of small children. The education of these children also received his attention.
In June 1743 he removed his mother and children to New Milford ad entered into the mercantile business, still improving every leisure hour in the acquisition of an education. He rapidly stored his mind with a fund of useful information that ultimately enabled him to commence a public career of usefulness. He also became a member of the church and adorned his profession through life. In 1745 he was appointed surveyor of Litchfield County, having mastered mathematics. Like his cotemporary and friend Benjamin Franklin, he made the calculation for an almanac for several years for a publisher in New York.