NATHANAEL GREENE. WITH the generation that survived | colony, following almost immediately the Revolution, which had lived the lead of Roger Williams. In the through its perils and tasted the joys third generation, we find Nathanael and depressions of its fluctuating for Greene living at the place we have tunes, which had learnt its knowledge described, proprietor of a forge and of affairs, and to apply its tests of a mill, worked by the waters of the character in the accurate school of river, uniting to these industrial purexperience, there was one guiding light suits, the calling of a Quaker preacher. upon which the eye was ever directed, The duties of this ministry were not the fidelity and judgment of Washing likely to be very exacting, compared ton. Men came to be estimated by with the requisitions of the modern his standard; and faithfulness to the pulpit, or at all to interfere with the country and the State became synony- ordinary business of the week. If we mous with faithfulness to Washington. may judge, however, from the home We have heard of old men of that era influences of the preacher, they were summing up their convictions of par- not inefficiently performed. We find ticular actors of the time, with the his son, of whom we are about to give expressive sentence, as a conclusion of an account, trained in sound Biblical the argument, which admitted of no precepts, and early disposed to a cavil, "Sir, he stood high in the profitable use of the mental acquiopinion of General Washington." The words have become almost proverbial. To none have they been more frequently or more deservedly applied than to the subject of this sketch. Nathanael Greene, the Major-General of the Revolution, was born on the 27th May, 1742, in the State of Rhode Island, at a spot in Warwick County, near the head waters of the Potowhom mett, a small stream emptying into Narragansett Bay. The family were among the earliest settlers of the sitions with which nature had endowed him. The boy's taste for learning and means taken for its attainment, indeed, entitle him to a place among those who have honorably distinguished themselves in the pursuit of knowledge under difficulties. He had some aid from a teacher in his father's house, but more from himself. He acquired something of Latin, and seized upon mathematical studies with eagerness. His prize of a copy of Euclid, pur chased with the pocket-money acquired by the sale of anchors and other little toys of his manufacture, was no common boyish acquisition. It indicated a faculty which would stamp the charac ter of the man. He studied the book in the intervals of labor in his father's forge. While the iron was heating in the fire, his mind was being tempered to the issues of life. An accidental acquaintance, formed at this time with the learned Dr. Stiles, of Yale College memory, then settled in his ministry at Newport, was of service in the youth's development. The ardent young student had also about this time the good fortune to meet with another old American worthy and ardent votary of letters, Lindley Murray, of grammatical memory, to whom he paid a visit at New York. Watts' Logic and Locke on the Understanding, we are told, were the favorite volumes of the young disciple. It must not be supposed with all this, that the youth was acquiring the habits of a pedant. Though he spent every leisure moment with his books, and was bent upon adding to the shelves of the little library, so dear to him as the product of his self-denial, he was a vigorous youth among youths; very fond, indeed, of gaiety, considering his Quaker parentage. A passion for dancing seems to have been as strong in him as his love for learning. Whatever came in this youth's way, furnished material for his mental improvement. When a lawsuit was entailed upon the family, he acquired a respectable knowledge of the profession for the sake of defending the in when the war with the parent country was impending, and it became evident that the colonists must defend themselves, he applied himself vigorously to the study of military affairs, turning over the leaves of his favorite Turenne, Cæsar, and Plutarch for the purpose. Subsequently, on a visit to Boston, after the arrival of the British troops, he studied their exercises, and smuggled away a military suit with a British deserter, to teach his Rhode Island company the use of arms. The pursuit was not at all to be reconciled to Quaker tenets. Dancing was offensive enough to the eyes of the fraternity, but gun and sword were unendurable enormities. The young Greene was read out of meeting. We do not find, however, that his youthful spirits were greatly impaired by the excommunication, for he immediately set to work and danced himself into the good graces of Miss Littlefield, of Block Island, whom he met at the mansion of his relative, Governor Greene. He married this lady in 1774, and took her to his home in Coventry, where he had been estab lished by his father as the director of a mill. This place became indebted to him for its first public school, and conscious of his capacity for public service, had returned him in 1770 to the General Assembly. At the date of the battle of Lexing ton, Greene was about thirty-three years of age, already distinguished in the militia organization of the State, and trained in its public councils. When the general mustering took place, the Assembly, which knew him well, appointed him to the command and accompanied Washington in the of the State troops, with the rank of Major General. On the arrival of the commander-in-chief at Cambridge, he exchanged this dignity for the colonial appointment of brigadier-general in the national service. Greene, whose Rhode Island encampment made a favorable impression in the midst of the motley array before Boston, appears at once to have entered into the good graces of Washington, who doubtless saw in him the material for a statesman as well as a soldier. His personal appearance at this time was striking. There was little opportunity for brilliant service in the leaguer at Boston; but a more stirring field was opened on the departure of the British, when Greene was ordered to New York, and took up his position at the important post opposite to the city on Long Island. He had reconnoitered the position, and was busily intent upon protecting its approaches before the landing of the British troops, when he was prostrated by a severe attack of fever, which compelled him to relinquish the command. It was given temporarily to General Sullivan, and then to Putnam. The outposts were neglected, the enemy advanced in force, there was some gallant fighting, but the day was lost. Major General Greene-he was now promoted to this rank-recovered from his illness in time to take an active part in the American retreat through Westchester. He was in action at Harlem, and would have defended Fort Washington, on the Hudson, to the last; he made what resistance he could to Cornwallis on the opposite shore, retreat through the Jerseys, and was in important command in the attacks upon Trenton and Princeton. At the Brandywine he was stationed with his corps as a reserve, and gallantly preserved the safety of the retreat, opening his columns to the fugitives, and maintaining a Parthian fight with the enemy, till he was able to meet them at an advantageous position, on fair terms, when his bravery repaired to some extent the fortunes of the day. The attack upon Germantown followed, when the left wing was intrusted to Greene. Though he was not so early on the spot as Wayne, in consequence of being assigned a less direct route, he showed equal gallantry in penetrating to the centre of the village. This boldly-planned adventure, it is well known, was lost by the detention of the troops before Chew's house, when they should have been breaking up the enemy's encampment, and by the inexplicable panic into which they were somehow thrown in the confusion of the day. Upon Greene again fell, as at the Brandywine, the arduous labors of the retreat. He once more saved the army from defeat. His administrative talents were now called into requisition in the discharge of the duties of the office of Quartermaster General, which he accepted at the entreaty of Washington and the Committee of Congress, with the understanding that he should not sacrifice by the position his right of command in the army. He accepted the laborious duty with a full sense of its unrewarded services. Washington respected his motives, admired his efficiency, and on |