Sage of the East! where wisdom rears her head, Augustus, taught in virtue's path to tread, 'Mid thousands of his race, elected stands Unanimous to legislative bands; Endowed with every art to frame just laws, Learns to hate vice, to virtue gives applause. Augustus, oh, thy name that's ever dear Unrivaled stands to crown each passing year! Great are the virtues that exalt thy mind. Unenvied merit marks thy worth refined. Sincerely rigid for your country's right, To save her Liberty you deigned to fight; Undaunted courage graced your manly brow, Secured such honors as the gods endow.-- Bright is the page; the record of thy days Attracts my muse thus to rehearse thy praise. Rejoice then, patriots, statesmen, all rejoice! Kindle his praises with one general voice! Emblazon out his deeds, his virtues prize, Reiterate his praises to the skies! M. D. LA FAYETTE. P.S.--The Colonel will readily apologize for the inaccuracies of an unskillful muse, and be convinced the high estimation of his amiable character could alone actuate the author of the foregoing. M. D. LA FAYETTE. So the name of the young general's friend and aid-de-camp was Samuel Augustus Barker. * * * * * Years passed. The Revolution was over. America was free. The French Revolution, with all its horrors and successes, had made France a republic. Napoleon had risen, conquered, ruled, fallen, and died, and the first quarter of the nineteenth century was nearly completed, when, in August, 1824, an old French gentleman who had been an active participant in several of these historic scenes arrived in New York. It was General the Marquis de La Fayette, now a veteran of nearly seventy, returning to America as the honored guest of the growing and prosperous republic he had helped to found. His journey through the land was like a triumph. Flowers and decorations brightened his path, cheering people and booming cannon welcomed his approach. And in one of those welcomings, in a little village in Central New York, a cannon, which was heavily loaded for a salute in honor of the nation's guest, exploded, and killed a plucky young fellow who had volunteered to "touch off" the over-charged gun when no one else dared. Some months after, the old marquis chanced to hear of the tragedy, and at once his sympathies were aroused for the widowed mother of the young man. He at once wrote to the son of the man who had been his comrade in arms in the revolutionary days half a century before, asking full information concerning the fatal accident, and the needs of the mother of the poor young man who was killed; and having thus learned all the facts, sent the sum of one thousand dollars to relieve the mother's necessities and to pay off the mortgage on her little home.