Governor McKean respected those who honestly differed from him in politics and had among them many valued friends. He was free from that narrow minded policy based upon self, which is too prominent at the present day among those who assume the high responsibility of becoming the arbiters of the minds of their fellow men. His views were expanding, liberal—broad—charitable. He aimed at distributing equal justice to all—the rich and poor, the public officer and private citizen. He preferred future good to present aggrandizement. To lay the deep foundations of increasing and lasting prosperity in his own state and through our nation was the object of this pure patriot, enlightened statesman and able jurist. The vast resources of our country, her wide spread territory, majestic rivers, silvery lakes, mineral wealth, rich valleys, majestic mountains, rolling uplands, beautiful prairies, extensive sea board, enterprising sons and her virtuous daughters—were all arrayed before his grasping mind and passed in grand review. He was firmly convinced that our people have only to be wise and good to be great and happy. With this end in view he embraced every opportunity in public and private life to inculcate those great principles of moral rectitude, inflexibly virtue, purity of motive and nobleness of action—that alone can preserve a nation. He cast a withering frown upon vice in all its deluding forms. He exerted his strongest powers to arrest the career of crime. He was a terror to evil doers and inspired confidence in those who did well.
In 1808 he retired from public life. He had devoted forty-six years to the faithful service of his country and had earned an imperishable fame. He stood approved at the bar of his country—his conscience and his God. He had acted well his part and contributed largely in raising our country to a proud elevation among the nations of the earth. He outlived all the animosities that a faithful discharge of duty too often creates. On the 24th of June 1817 he resigned his immortal spirit to Him who gave it and fell asleep in the arms of death as peacefully as a babe slumbers. He died at Philadelphia.
The private character of Judge McKean was unsullied as the virgin sheet. His person was tall and erect—his countenance intelligent, bold and commanding—his manners urbane, gentlemanly and affable—his feelings noble, generous and humane—his actions open, frank and republican. He was a refined philanthropist, a sterling patriot, an acute philosopher, an enlightened statesman, a profound lawyer, an impartial judge, an able magistrate and a truly good man. Legislators, statesmen, magistrates and judges—imitate the bright examples of this friend to his country—then our Republic is secure—our UNION safe.
FRANCIS MARION.
The patriots of '76 proved the purity of their motives in the pursuit of emancipation more by acts than words. They were a united band of brothers who aimed at the general good of their whole country—pledged to make her free or perish in the effort. No local interests—no sectional jealousies—no fire-brands of discord could then disorganize the phalanx of sages and heroes who struck for liberty. Under the guidance of Heaven they were crowned with victory. They purchased freedom with torrents of blood and millions of treasure. That sacred boon they transmitted to us in pristine purity. Do we all fully appreciate this priceless legacy? Far from it. For years it has been the foot-ball of reckless demagogues—the neglected nursling of our people. Many talk loud and long of their patriotism—sing the pæans of our freedom—laud the dear sovereign people to the skies—whose acts too plainly show that they look upon our UNION as a mere rope of sand and not as an invaluable treasure to be preserved at all hazards. They look upon the people as a mass of hood-winked worshippers at the shrine of party spirit—not as those who can, should and must banish them from our councils or be plunged into the vortex of fearful destruction. People of America! open your eyes to our true position! Look at the mighty struggles, the herculean labors, the gigantic efforts of the few pure patriots in our national council who have nobly warded off the lightning thunderbolts of the disorganizers. See the upheaving throes of the volcano that is rocking us in the consuming cradle of civil discord! Ponder well the danger of concentrating men in Congress whose boiling passions cannot be restrained by the safety-valve of reason—men who do not prize our UNION above all other considerations—whose burning zeal for local measures—party success and self interest would be their ruling passion amidst the smoking ruins of the temple of our liberty. People of America! it is for you to perpetuate this expanding Republic. You can and should preserve it. Banish all questions that can place it in jeopardy—permit all agitators to remain at home—let the people of each state strictly observe the eleventh commandment—then we may fondly hope that our course may be onward and upward for centuries to come.
Among those who acted a noble part in the American Revolution and exemplified patriotism by his acts—was Francis Marion who was born in 1733 near Georgetown in South Carolina. His early inclination led him to embark on board a vessel bound for the West Indies at the age of sixteen. During the voyage the vessel was upset in a gale and nothing saved but the boat in which the crew and a dog took refuge. They had no provisions but the raw flesh of Carlo and were out a week during which time several of them died. The sufferings and perils then endured cured Marion of his partiality for Neptune. As soon as possible he planted himself on terra firma and devoted his time to agriculture until 1759 when he received the commission of a lieutenant under Capt. Moultrie who was engaged in the expedition against the Cherokee Indians conducted by Gov. Lyttleton. Two years subsequent Marion was raised to the post of captain and served under Col. Grant in a second attempt to chastise the Cherokees. At the commencement of the Revolution of Independence he was on hand and ready for action. He was soon raised to the rank of major and served under Col. Moultrie in his gallant defence of the fort named in honor of that officer. He was then promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel and commanded a regiment at the siege of Charleston. In the early part of the siege one of his legs was fractured which saved him a journey to the Spanish Castle in Florida where all the unwounded prisoners were sent.
On his recovery he proceeded to North Carolina and was commissioned a Brigadier General of the militia and became one of the severest scourges the enemy had to encounter. He was enthusiastic in the cause of freedom and imparted this enthusiasm to all who rallied under him. He was remarkably shrewd, bold, energetic and persevering. With a small chosen band around him he retired to the intricate retreats in the low grounds of the Pedee and Black rivers, from which he would suddenly emerge and strike a sanguinary blow into the ranks of the enemy at an unexpected moment and retreat so quickly that they knew not from what direction he came or where to follow him. Even his friends were often ignorant of his location for days. He became a terror to the British army and led detached parties into many a quagmire where they frequently surrendered at discretion—knowing him to be as humane and generous as he was brave and wary. Col. Horry relates the following pleasing incident of Marion.
"About this time we received a flag from the enemy in Georgetown S. C. the object of which was to make arrangements about the exchange of prisoners. The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was conducted into Marion's encampment. Having heard great talk about Gen. Marion, his fancy had naturally enough sketched out for him some stout figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara or Cornwallis himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. But what was his surprise when led into Marion's presence and the bandage taken from his eyes, he beheld in our hero, a swarthy, smoke-dried little man with scarcely enough of thread-bare homespun to cover his nakedness and instead of tall ranks of gay dressed soldiers, a handful of sun burnt, yellow legged militia-men—some roasting potatoes and some asleep, with their black firelocks and powder horns lying by them on the logs. Having recovered a little from his surprise, he presented his letter to Gen. Marion, who perused it and settled everything to his satisfaction.
"The officer took up his hat to retire. 'Oh no'—said Marion—'it is now about our time of dining and I hope, sir, you will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner.'