but should be placed upon an elevation
high as the summit of the Bunker Hill Monument, that it may be seen far and
wide.

VALLEY FORGE.

_October 1st, 1842._

_October 5th, 1842._

MR. WHITNEY.--While exposing the demerits of Mr. William Bradford Reed, I
have no disposition to disparage whatever of ability or information he may
really possess; and concerning the letter, I cheerfully acknowledge that he
has made himself very thoroughly acquainted with the true character of the
leading men and events of the American Revolution.

But it is _this_ that constitutes his chief shame. In his absurd panegyrics
of his "Grandfather," he has not been imposed upon; he is seeking to impose
upon others, and in this he has, to a very considerable extent, succeeded;
he is sinning against the excess of light and the superfluity of knowledge.
Possessing the most ample proofs of his grandfather's treachery to his
country in the darkest hour of his country's peril, Mr. William B. Reed has
not hesitated to hold him up to that very country which he sought to
betray, and _did_ well nigh betray, and _would_ have betrayed, but for the
timely interception of his treasonable correspondence with the British
Commissioners, as one of the most glorious and incorruptible of the
patriots who fought and suffered for the establishment of American
Independence! The guilt of this will cling to Mr. Reed enduringly.

Never can he shake off its contamination. Could he escape from the odium of
his more immediate personal delinquencies; his fawning sycophancy of
Nicholas Biddle; his dirty work in behalf of that man for money, not for
love; could he deluge with Lethean ocean the public memory, his
malpractices as attorney-general; his venal career as a member of the
Legislature; could he induce the public to overlook the bribes which he
pocketed under the pretext of _fees_ received for services never
performed--bribes, the amount of which and the dates of whose reception,
are well known, and sustainable by documentary reference;--could all this
be erased, as systematic and persevering labours, from his boyhood upward,
to delude a much injured country into reverence for the memory, not of the
contemporary, but of the _predecessor_ of Benedict Arnold in "treason" have
won for him an infamy from the consequences of which escape is impossible.

I