CHARACTER OF LA FAYETTE J. T. HEADLEY. 1. THERE are now and then bright spots on this darkened planet of ours,-great and glorious examples of human virtue, interrupting the otherwise sad history of the race. Patriotism, which sinks self, and scorns death, is a noble virtue; yet one might be expected to defend his own land and hearthstones. But that philanthropy which goes out of its own hemisphere, to seek the welfare, and suffer for the freedom of strangers, is a rarer virtue, yet it is the one which has immortalized LA FAYETTE.' 2. One can never think of that French boy, eighteen years of age, just married, rolling in wealth, and basking in the sunshine of court favor, sending up from the Tuileries* of Paris his shout for us and our cause, without the deepest emotion. Our admiration and affection are not lessened, when we see him lavishing his wealth on our naked, famishing soldiers,winding himself, in child-like love, round the great heart of our Washington,-charging like a veteran through the ranks of our foemen, and carried pale and bleeding from our disastrous fields. 3. There is something exquisitely touching and beautiful in the enthusiasm of this youth, in our behalf. His whole career, as connected with this country, seems to belong rather to romance, than to plain history. To give a naked narrative of facts, is to weave poetry into politics, and throw gushes of warm, generous feeling into the cold calculations of intriguing statesmen. France wished us success, because it would revenge her for the loss of her colonies in this country, and weaken the power of her rival in the New World; but these motives never entered into the heart of La Fayette. He saw only a weak, but brave people, struggling to be free; and overlooking all questions of interest, breaking away from all ties of home, family, and country, threw himself alone into our arms. * A royal palace in Paris. 4. National prejudice, the jealousy of our officers, and the coldness of Congress, could not check the warm current of his sympathy. For us he was determined to contend,-in our cause expend his fortune, and peril his life. Not an exile, nor an adventurer, but a wealthy, flattered, young nobleman, he cast from him the luxuries and gayeties of the French Court, turned away from all the honors that clustered in his path, and became the companion of our poverty and toils,—the jest and by-word of kings. 5. Few men have passed through so many and so fearful scenes as he. From a young courtier, he passed into the selfdenying, toilsome life of a general in the ill-clothed, ill-fed, and ill-disciplined American army,-thence into the vortex of the French Revolution and all its horrors,-thence into the gloomy prison of Olmutz. After a few years of retirement, he appeared on our shores to receive the welcome of a grateful people, to hear a nation shout his praise, and bear him from one limit of the land to another in its arins. 6. A few years pass by, and with his gray hairs falling about his aged countenance, he stands amid the students* of Paris, and sends his feeble shout of defiance to the throne of the Bourbon, and it falls. Rising more by his virtue than his intellect, he holds a prominent place in the history of France, and linked with Washington, goes down to a greater immortality than awaits any emperor or mere warrior of the human race. 7. His love for this country was deep and abiding. To the last his heart turned hither, and well it might. His career of glory began on our shores,―on our cause he staked his reputation, fortune, and life, and in our success received the benediction of the good throughout the world. That love was returned with interest, and never was a nobler exhibition of a nation's gratitude than our reception of him at his last visit. 8. We love him for what he did for us, we revere him for his consistency to our principles, amid all the chaos and revolutions of Europe; and when we cease to speak of him with affection and gratitude, we shall show ourselves unworthy of "HONOR TO LA the blessings we have received at his hand. FAYETTE!" will ever stand inscribed on our temple of liberty, until its ruins shall cover all it now contains. LESSON CXL. LA FAYETTE'S LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. J. T. HEADLEY. 1. AGAIN, in his old age,* LA FAYETTE determined to look on the young Republic that had escaped the disasters which had overwhelmed France. When his plans were made known, our government offered to place a national vessel at his dispo. sal; but he declined accepting it, and embarked at Havre in a merchantman, and arrived at New York, August 15, 1824. His reception in this country, and triumphal march through it, is one of the most remarkable events in the history of the world. Such gratitude and unbounded affection were never before received by a man from a foreign nation. 2. As he passed from Staten Island to New York, the bay was covered with gay barges decorated with streamers; and when the beautiful fleet shoved away, the bands struck up, "Where can one better be, than in the bosom of his family?" Never did this favorite French air seem so appropriate,—not even when the shattered Old Guard closed sternly around its Emperor, and sang it amid the fire of the enemy's guns,-as when a free people thus chanted it around the venerable La FAYETTE. 3. As he touched the shore, the thunder of cannon shook the city,-old soldiers rushed weeping into his arms; and, "WELCOME LA FAYETTE!" waved from every banner, rung from every trumpet, and was caught up by every voice, till "WELCOME, WELCOME!" rose and fell in deafening shouts from the assembled thousands. During the four days he remained in the city, it was one constant jubilee; and when he left for Boston, all along his route, the people rose to welcome him. * La Fayette was sixty-seven years of age at the time of his last visit to America. 4. He traveled every night till twelve o'clock, and watchfires were kept burning on the hill-tops, along his line of progress. Blazing through the darkness, they outshone the torches that heralded him; while in the distance the pealing bells from every church spire, announced his coming. The same enthusiastic joy awaited him at Boston; and when he returned to New York, the city was wilder than ever with excitement. 5. In Castle-Garden there was a splendid illumination in honor of him, the bridge leading to it was surmounted by a pyramid sixty feet high, with a blazing star at the top, from the center of which flashed the name of LA FAYETTE. The planks were covered with carpets, and trees and flowers innumerable lined the passage. Over the entrance was a triumphal arch of flowers,-huge columns arose from the area, supporting arches of flowers, and flags, and statues. As he entered this wilderness of beauty, the bands struck up, " See the conquering hero comes," and shouts shook the edifice to its foundation: 6. He had scarcely taken his seat in a splendid marque prepared for his reception, when the curtain before the gallery, in front, of him, lifted,-and there was a beautiful transparency, representing La Grange, with its grounds and towers, and beneath it, "This is his home." Nothing could be more touching and affectionate than this device; and as La Fayette's eye fell upon it, a tear was seen to gather there, and his lip to quiver with feeling. 7. Thus the people received the "people's friend." From New York he went to Albany and Troy, and one long shout of welcome rolled the length of the Hudson, as he floated up the noble stream. After visiting other cities, and receiving similar demonstrations of gratitude, he turned his steps toward Mount Vernon, to visit the tomb of Washington. The thunder of cannon announced his arrival at the consecrated ground, calling to his mind the time when he had seen that now lifeless chieftain, move through the tumult of battle. 8. Wishing no one to witness his emotions, as he stood be side the ashes of his friend, he descended alone into the vault. With trembling steps, and uncovered head, he passed down to the tomb. The secrets of that meeting of the living with the dead, no one knows; but when the aged veteran came forth again, his face was covered with tears. He then took his son and secretary by the hand, and led them into the vault. He could not speak,-his bursting heart was too full for utterance, and he mutely pointed to the coffin of Washington. They knelt reverently beside it, then rising threw themselves into La Fayette's arms, and burst into tears. It was a touching scene, there in the silent vault, and worthy the noble sleeper. 9. Thence he went to Yorktown, and then proceeded South, passed through all the principal cities to New Orleans, and thence up the Mississippi to Cincinnati and across to Pittsburg. Wherever he went the entire nation rose to do him nomage. "Honor to La Fayette," "Welcome to La Fayette, the nation's guest," and such like exclamations had met him at every step. Flowers were strewed along his pathway,-his carriage detached from the horses, and drawn by the enthusiastic crowd, along ranks of grateful freemen who rent the heavens with their acclamations. Melted to tears by these demonstrations of love, he had moved like a father amid his children, scattering blessings wherever he went. 10. One of his last acts in this country, was to lay the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument. It was fit that he, the last survivor of the major-generals of the American Revolution, should consecrate the first block in that grand structure. Amid the silent attention of fifty thousand spectators, this aged veteran, and friend of Washington, with uncovered head, performed the imposing ceremonies, and, "LONG LIVE LA FAYETTE," Swelled up from the top of Bunker Hill. WELCOME TO GENERAL LA FAYETTE. EDWARD EVERETT. 1. WELCOME, friend of our fathers, to our shores. Happy are our eyes that behold those venerable features. Enjoy a triumph, such as never conqueror or monarch enjoyed,—the |