Young Morton continued with his faithful guardian until manhood dawned upon him, aiding in the business of agriculture and surveying, constantly storing his mind with useful knowledge--testing theory by practice. In 1764 he was commissioned a justice of the peace and shortly after was elected to the Assembly of his native state. He soon became conspicuous and was subsequently speaker of the House during several sessions. He took a deep interest in the welfare of his country and was a member of the Congress assembled at New York in 1765 to concert measures for the repeal of the odious Stamp Act. He concurred in the strong and bold appeals of that body which virtually kindled the fire of the Revolution. Although smothered for a time it was never extinguished until it consumed the last vestige of British power in America and expired for want of fuel. In 1767 he became the sheriff of his county which station he ably filled for three years. He was then appointed president judge of his district and gained the admiration and esteem of the entire community. About this time he performed a very sensible act by marrying Anne Justis of the State of Delaware who was worthy to be the wife of a patriot and contributed largely to his happiness through life. When the dread clarion of war was sounded from the heights of Lexington the indignation of the people in his neighborhood was so roused that they at once raised a battalion of volunteers and elected Judge Morton colonel. He was compelled to decline the epic honor having been recently appointed a judge of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. In July 1774 he was made a member of the Congress that convened in Philadelphia the following September. The grand object of that Congress was to make a last and noble effort to effect a reconciliation between the two countries and heal instead of increasing the unfortunate breach. To this end men of cool deliberation, deep thought, matured judgment, profound wisdom and pure patriotism were selected for this important work on which depended the destiny of themselves and unborn millions. When the delegates assembled a deep and awful solemnity seemed to pervade every mind. No noise was heard but the still murmuring of the rushing blood, the beating of anxious hearts and the quick respiration of those who had congregated. The proceedings were opened by prayer. Every soul seemed to commune with the spirits of another world as by vesper orisons. After the address to the throne of grace the same awful silence reigned. Still nothing was heard but the rush of the purple stream and the throb of anxious hearts. Trembling tears and quivering lips told the emotions of many a bosom--too full to be expressed, too deep to be fathomed, too strong to be endured. At length the mighty spirit of Patrick Henry burst forth in all the sublimity of its native majesty and broke the mighty spell. In bold and glowing colors, shaded with dignified