DeKalb was an American, too--by adoption. It is related that he expostulated with Gates for fighting so unprepared at Camden, and that Gates intimated cowardice. "Tomorrow will tell, sir, who is the coward," the old fellow rejoined. And tomorrow did tell. As the battle reddened, exit Gates from Camden and from fame. We have recounted elsewhere how like a bull De Kalb held the field. A monster British grenadier rushed on him, bayonet fixed. DeKalb parried, at the same time burying his sword in the grenadier's breast so deep that he was unable to extract it. Then seizing the dead man's weapon he fought on, thrusting right and left, till at last, overpowered by numbers, he slipped and fell, mortally hurt. Among the civilian heroes of the Revolution, Robert Morris, the financier, deserves exceeding praise. Now turning over the lead ballast of his ships for bullets, now raising $50,000 on his private credit and sending it to Washington in the nick of time, now leading the country back to specie payment in season to save the national credit, the Philadelphia banker aided the cause as much as the best general in the field. Faithful and successful envoys as Jay and John Adams were, the Revolution brought to light one, and only one, true master in the difficult art of diplomacy--Franklin. Wise with a lifetime's shrewd observation, venerable with years, preceded by his fame as scientist and Revolutionary statesman, grand in his plain dignity, the Philadelphia printer stood unabashed before the throne of France, and carried king and diplomats with an art that surprised Europe's best-trained courtiers. Never missing an opportunity, he yet knew, by delicate intuition, when to speak and when to hold his tongue. Through concession, intrigue, and delay, his resolute will kept steady to its purpose. To please by yielding is easy. To carry one's point and be pleasing still, requires genius. This Franklin did--how successfully, our treaty of alliance with France and our treaty of peace with England splendidly attested.