by the wholesome terror which the gunboats (the "iron hell-hounds," as General Pillow called them) had inspired among them; and on March seventeenth was commenced the famous siege of Island Number Ten. Through all the tedious episodes of that investment Foote remained faithfully at his post; although, from exertion and excitement, his wound grew daily more painful, until it was with the utmost difficulty he could ascend the deck of his ship. At length, on the eighth of April, the enemy, assailed in front by the flotilla and in the rear by the troops under General Pope, (who, after long delay, had been conveyed across the Mississippi in boats,) surrendered their works, and the flotilla was at liberty to proceed to new conquests. But so debilitated had Flag-Officer Foote become during the interval, that, in the opinion of his medical advisers, retirement for a season from active service could alone preserve his life. Under these circumstances, he reluctantly applied to the Government for a leave of absence, and early in May turned over his command to Captain Davis in an appropriate address to his men, in which he was several times completely overcome by emotion.

His return to his home, in New-Haven, was one continuous ovation, and all along the route enthusiastic crowds greeted him with shouts of approval. Public receptions, which he invariably declined, were tendered to him in almost every city through which he passed. "I should be as able to renew the fight with my flotilla," he wrote, in reply to the invitation of a committee of the citizens of Cleveland, "as to be the recipient of your numerous favors; and I know too well the intelligent citizens of Cleveland to doubt for a moment that they would deem this my paramount duty." A few weeks of rest restored him to health; but the opening of the Mississippi, which he had so brilliantly commenced, having by that time been so nearly accomplished that the result was in no doubt, he was called to other duties of not less importance, and on the nomination of the President, which was confirmed by the Senate, was appointed Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting, under the new organization of the navy. He was also, though one of the youngest captains in point of rank in the navy, selected by the President-with the entire approbation of the people-as one of the seven rear-admirals on the active list authorized by the Act of Congress.

As his health became more firmly reestablished, the duties of his office grew more irksome to him, and he desired to return to active service. In May, 1863, his wishes in this regard seemed about to be gratified. A change was decided upon in the command of the South-Atlantic squadron, on which was to devolve the siege of Charleston, and the eyes of the Government, as well as of the nation, were turned at once upon Admiral Foote. The position was offered to him and accepted, and, with his usual promptness, he was soon on his way to New-York to make preparation for assuming the duties of his new command. But He who had been his hope and his trust in all the past had determined otherwise. He was

to be called to a higher position, to a more glorious office, than any earthly potentate could confer upon him.

He had but just arrived in New-York and taken rooms at the Astor House when he was attacked by the disease which, after two or three weeks of suffering, terminated his life. So severe was the seizure that the physicians deemed it unwise to remove him, and every attention which Mr. Stetson could bestow was lavished upon the dying veteran. His family gathered around him to minister to him in his sufferings, and pray and labor for his recovery, and nothing was left undone which the tenderest affection could suggest. But the time for his departure had come, and no one was more sensible of the approach of death than he, who had so often looked it in the face in the day of battle. And what a spectacle of heroic faith triumphing over the last enemy did he present! He was calm, thoroughly self-possessed, sent messages of harmony and good-will to his brother officers, and especially to Admiral Du Pont, whom he was to have suc ceeded, expressed his satisfaction that his work was done, that he had not now to make his peace with God, and fell asleep, his eyes closing

"Calmly, as to a night's repose,

Like flowers at set of sun."

Within a year previous to his death two of his children had preceded him to the Silent Land, and his wife, who had watched so tenderly over his dying couch, survived him less than three months.

His death occurred on the twenty-sixth of June, 1863, and his body lay in state for two days at the Astor House, and was then removed to New-Haven, his family residence, where his funeral was attended by a vast concourse of the most eminent men of the State and nation.

Thus much for the public services of Admiral Foote. In the peaceful walks of private life he showed the same strict sense of duty, the same energy in all good works, and withal a modesty characteristic of the true hero. Frank and unassuming in his manners, he was noted for his active philanthropy, his unobtru sive piety, and his endeavors to elevate the moral condition of his race; and he repeatedly vindicated his sincerity in addresses at the religious anniversaries of our large cities. His religion was of too earnest a stamp to be repressed or weakened by ridicule, and on more than one occasion he publicly showed how deeply it was ingrained in his character. The often-repeated anecdote of his Sunday discourse at Cairo is one which history delights to treasure, and is too characteristic of the man to be omitted here. He had just returned from the capture of Fort Henry; and in the fulfilment of a duty, with which, if possible, he never permitted any circumstances to interfere, he attended the regular services at the Presbyterian church in Cairo. The preacher, for some reason, was absent, and

the congregation were about to leave, when Flag-Officer Foote arose and approached the desk. At the appearance of the weather-beaten veteran, fresh from his recent victory, "like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword," the congregation were with difficulty restrained from breaking into applause. He checked them with a look, and, the first murmur of surprise having subsided, offered an impressive prayer, to which he added an extempore sermon. The commander who, emerging from the smoke and roar of a great battle, could stand before the people in the character of a preacher of the Gospel, will be acknowledged & worthy descendant of the "men who fought and prayed"—the founders of religious and political liberty in New-England.

The orders of Admiral Foote upon assuming command of the flotilla, enjoining a rigid observance of Sunday, and an avoidance, by both officers and men, of profane swearing and intemperance, are conceived in the same spirit which prompted his action on the above occasion, and stamp him as one who believed that religion and morals are not the least effective agents in making good sailors. A strict disciplinarian, he gained, to an unusual degree, the attachment and confidence of his crews. He had a decided taste for the pure and healthful enjoyments of life, and what he coveted for himself he had no wish to withhold from others. He always felt a warm sympathy with his men; he would listen patiently to their complaints, promptly redress their grievances, and knew how to put up with a little superfluous jollity on the part of the youngsters. Even his exertions to stop the sailors' grog were so evidently prompted by a desire for their welfare, that the old salts did not dislike him for it. While on the Mississippi, and before the order allowing a commutation of the allowance of grog, he was accustomed to punish intoxication on the part of the sailors in a way which evinced at the same time the kindness of his nature and his tendency to a sort of dry humor. The drunken sailor was on no account to be deprived of his gill of grog, but he must take it mixed-in a gallon of water!

Among the popular heroes whom the war has produced no one was more honored or trusted; and while such men survive in active duty, the early fame of the American navy will be fully sustained.

A

FREDERICK W. LANDER.

Ta moment of peculiar peril, the nation was called upon to lament the death of one of her bravest chiefs. In the midst of the smoke and tumult of battle, she paused to twine the cypress-leaf with the laurel she had given him.

Brigadier-General FREDERICK W. LANDER was born at Salem, Massachusetts, in the year 1823. Like Putnam, Stark, and Marion, he was born a soldier: the profession of arms was a passion with him from his youth, and, though the graduate of no military academy, he will be remembered among the very ablest of those great-hearted gentlemen who have made themselves the bulwark of the American republic.

General Lander's name was first brought prominently before the American 'people in connection with the exploration for a wagon-road to the Pacific, several years since. By referring to the state papers, it will be seen how admirably he performed his arduous labors. His official report to the department proves him to have possessed fine literary as well as scientific attainments. He would have been a poet of no ordinary power, if he had not been so thoroughly a soldier.

At the breaking out of the present rebellion, he was assigned by General McClellan, then in Western Virginia, a position on his staff. In Lander's cool daring throughout that successful campaign, particularly at Philippa and Rich Mountain, was the ring of the true metal. The people listened to it with hope. Upon General McClellan's appointment to the command of the army of the Potomac, General Lander accompanied him, and proved an invaluable auxiliary in putting fresh strength into the half-demoralized and dispirited forces. Shortly afterward, the government dispatched him upon secret service; he accomplished the delicate task with credit to his own discernment, and to the entire satisfaction of the President.

On his return from the foreign mission, he was immediately placed in command of a brigade in General Banks's division; and at the affair at Edwards's Ferry, on the 22d of October, 1861, he was for the first time wounded, receiving a musket-ball in the leg while gallantly leading his men. He was no holiday hero. He shared the dangers of the battle with his humblest private.

The wound was of such a serious nature, that he was obliged to relinquish his command for several weeks. How patiently he endured the mere physical