THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND 
 
 OTHER WRITINGS.
 
 OTHER ADDRESSES, 
 
 PAPERS CRITICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 GEORGE LUNT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 MDCCCLVII.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 
 
 GEORGE LTJNT, 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 B. W. DCTTON AND SON, PRINTKBS. 
 37 Congress Street.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE first three articles in this volume, together 
 with that on a disputed passage of Shakespeare, never 
 have been printed before. That which stands earliest 
 in the order of arrangement was pronounced at the 
 request of the New England Society of New York, in 
 December, 1856. The author has thought it proper to 
 retain, for this performance, the title under which it 
 was written and spoken, although it will be seen, that 
 a suitable reason induced him to modify somewhat 
 his original plan. The second production was deliv 
 ered a year ago, and also more recently on several 
 occasions, as a Lyceum Lecture ; and the third was 
 given, also as a Lecture, before various similar asso 
 ciations, about ten years since. The Address, at the 
 dedication of Horticultural Hall, originally published 
 by the Massachusetts Horticultural Society, has been 
 subjected to some slight changes, chiefly of expression, 
 for the purposes of the present publication. The 
 brief eulogy on General Taylor was offered to the 
 Circuit Court of the United States for the First Cir 
 cuit, at the opening of its session, July 15, 1850, 
 while the author held the office of Attorney of the 
 1*
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 United States for the District of Massachusetts. The 
 use already made of the other writings in the volume 
 is sufficiently indicated in the introduction of each 
 piece. Of the Lectures, it is proper to say, that 
 portions, and, in some instances, very considerable 
 portions, were omitted in the delivery.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND, 9 
 
 USES AND ABUSES OF THE DAILY PRESS, 67 
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS, Ill 
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL, 177 
 
 PRESIDENT TAYLOR, 207 
 
 FISHER AMES, 215 
 
 CHARLES JACKSON, 233 
 
 LECTURE BY RUFUS CHOATE, 249 
 
 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH, 258
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND: 
 A LE CTURE, 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE NEW ENGLAND SOCIETY OF 
 NEW YORK, DECEMBER 3, 1856. 
 
 THE beginnings of a nation arc necessarily small. 
 I speak not more of its numbers, than of its condition 
 and habits. Nature, at the commencement of all 
 colonial existence, takes the place of art, and the 
 wants of nature are few and simple. It is surprising 
 how summarily a removal from that state of society, 
 which may be styled the common round of civilized 
 being, strips us of our acquired tastes, and of the 
 customary usages of our lives, and even of many of 
 our most ordinary necessities. Conformity with the 
 mere absolute requirements of life becomes then the 
 result of that law, which is emphatically the essence 
 of reason. The object, for which we then erect the 
 rude and shapeless hut, is, that we may be shielded 
 from the unfriendly elements. And, then, the un 
 hewn timber, or unchiselled stone serve the same 
 purpose, in our behalf, as base and pediment, facade,
 
 10 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 colonnade, architrave and frieze, contrived by the 
 inward-looking eye of genius and wrought out by the 
 most curious manipulations of art. Our primary 
 necessities, of 
 
 food, clothes and fire, 
 
 we shall then reckon to be all honestly supplied, 
 though the meat be not presented upon the burnished 
 service, which illuminates the banquet, nor the gar 
 ments glitter with the lustre of invaluable jewels, nor 
 the genial warmth be tempered, equalized, and con 
 trolled by the application of any artificial aid. 
 
 Whenever this is the state of man, the impertinent 
 fictions and weak sophisms of life die out. The bor 
 rowings and lendings of the human creature fall 
 away from him, under the rigid discipline of primeval 
 necessities, as the encrusting dirt, which bcdimmed 
 the diamond, is removed by the hard process, which 
 reveals and confirms its inestimable price. The voice 
 of the mountain winds would mock at the most indis 
 pensable and best-recognized trappings of polished 
 society, as they rent them away, and fastened them 
 fluttering in the crevice of the cliff, or, bore them 
 onwards to the unknown wilderness, and would hail 
 its very comforts with the shout and laughter of deris 
 ion. And what more piteous spectacle could be 
 exhibited, than the favorite of the most courtly circle, 
 arrayed for triumphant conquest, sitting solitary and 
 helpless in the desert, where life itself is only granted
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 11 
 
 to the hands and eyes and nerves, which know how 
 to reduce its rugged heart to a serviceable subjec 
 tion? 
 
 So far, therefore, as our familiar and inherent char 
 acteristics, which form the very foundation of our 
 nature, and make us good, or make us great, are liable 
 to become diluted or perverted by the sophistications 
 of social being, they may acquire an actual refresh 
 ment and renewal, under the severe and inevitable 
 trials of colonial existence ; and thus, from the corrupt 
 bosom of an outworn empire may spring that newer, 
 and more wholesome flood of life, which shall invigo 
 rate a world. 
 
 This, then, is the absolute law of all legitimate 
 emigration, that it leaves behind it the weaknesses, 
 the concretions and superfluities of artificial life, and 
 founds its new existence upon an appeal to the pri 
 mordial elements of natural society. Pretence, which 
 so constantly dazzles the unthinking multitude, can 
 not stand a moment in the presence of a reality, of 
 which daily experience compels the application of its 
 entire physical, intellectual and moral development. 
 Even wealth itself, that universal criterion of every 
 civilized community, becomes only adventitious, where 
 true worth and sterling sense are requirements of 
 indispensable utility. Respect clings only to those 
 qualities, which arc valuable, because they are abso 
 lutely useful, and he alone, who surpasses his fellows
 
 12 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 in wisdom, knowledge, and the substantial attributes 
 of heroic virtue, stands forth a king of men. 
 
 That most charming of all simple stories, of which 
 boyhood never wearies, owes more than half its inter 
 est to the very principle I have suggested. This 
 certainly does not result mainly from a consecutive 
 relation of incidents, often trivial, and seldom claim 
 ing sympathy with what are commonly accounted our 
 higher and more absorbing emotions. But it is, be 
 cause we are taught to respect and value a human 
 being, positively despoiled of every external aid, and 
 reduced at once to the independent exertion of his 
 intelligent faculties and capacities, who thus con 
 quers fear and weakness and the cruelty of fortune, 
 and alone, amidst the utter solitudes of nature, be 
 comes, in a far higher than any figurative sense, the 
 monarch of all he surveys. 
 
 It is on this field, therefore, that the human charac 
 ter is not only tested, but developed and matured. 
 For here, it is the inevitable tendency of life to revert 
 to those fundamental principles, which we see only 
 dimly through the mist and haze of artificial society. 
 We are apt to believe, that the imagination of the 
 poet alone must have invested the progenitors of a 
 people with those attributes of greatness and heroism, 
 which scarcely find any response amidst the hollow 
 echoes of our own unreal hearts. We have been con 
 versant with the weaknesses, the compromises, the
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 13 
 
 pusillanimities, and the manifold perversions of social 
 existence ; we have looked upon its arrogant show, 
 and have observed the success of those mere imitative 
 propensities, which it accepts so readily as a substitute 
 for sterling merit. We know how all these indications 
 mark the outward progress, as they testify equally to 
 the declining vital energies of a nation, and we can 
 scarcely conceive how there could have been behind 
 us, in the far and twilight past, a passionate longing 
 for the truth and an unshaken fortitude of soul, a 
 courage, a strength, a justice and a virtue, which 
 were not then, if now, little more than irreducible 
 abstractions, but as truly and necessarily the solid 
 foundations of a rising state, as they are the adaman 
 tine pillars of universal and intelligent creation. 
 
 There may be more semblance of truth, therefore, 
 than we sometimes imagine, in the crude memorials 
 of remote antiquity ; and the philosophic historian has 
 wisely refrained from rejecting, as utterly fabulous, 
 much which is commonly considered to denote only 
 the age of fable. For uniform experience teaches, 
 that some of our noblest qualities were exhibited un 
 der the severest pangs of penury and suffering, and 
 often even those, which might seem half to warrant 
 the traditional deification of demigods, whose uncer 
 tain characters loom up indistinctly through the 
 shadows of distant centuries, or who still lower upon 
 us, in imaged marble, from their crumbling pedestals. 
 2
 
 14 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 And thus it may be, that the stern muse of early 
 history intended only to characterize the idea of naked 
 privation itself, in the exemplification of that savage 
 nurse, around whose gaunt and shaggy bosom clung 
 the infant arms of the founder of eternal Rome. 
 
 And this general view of the subject is susceptible 
 of more or less faithful application to the early period 
 of every people, which has laid the foundation of a 
 flourishing empire amongst the unconventional sim 
 plicities of colonial existence, not surely by reason 
 of any conformity with the characteristic sordidiiess of 
 savage life, but, because sovereign nature, then 
 sitting supreme, requires the manifestation of solid 
 virtues, and of qualities, manly or womanly, as they 
 should be ; and demands and enforces a recurrence to 
 those elementary and immortal principles, of universal 
 obligation, which become refined away, or at least 
 partially obscured, amidst the clashing relations, the 
 gathering, varying and rapidly intermingling interests, 
 and all the dust and struggle and fever of a progressive 
 and sensuously practical and degenerately luxurious 
 age. 
 
 That rugged integrity of the mistress of the ancient 
 world, when, in the flush of her unblemished youth, 
 she sought the sweet Egerian grot, to take counsel of 
 more than mortal wisdom, or that fundamental moral 
 lesson, without which nothing is, so impressed upon 
 the still earlier Persian to speak the truth, in the
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 15 
 
 palace, or on the plain, or as he ascended the moun 
 tain tops to hold communion with the stars, are no 
 more characteristic indications of the training of a 
 mighty nation, than those weary years of the wilder 
 ness and painful wanderings of the chosen people, 
 before their eyes were permitted to behold 
 
 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, 
 
 which, by the irreversible covenant of ages, they and 
 their children were yet to see 
 
 Stand drest in living green. 
 
 But, certainly, never before so manifested, and quite 
 as certainly, never again to be illustrated, in the same 
 manner and degree, is that eminent exemplification 
 of these principles to be found, in the settlement and 
 progress of our beloved New England, of that New 
 England, to which our hearts turn with a devotion, 
 which seems to us, at least, to be neither due, nor 
 claimed, nor recognized by any other country or 
 clime, of that New England, to which her children, 
 scattered, as many of them are, at the remotest ex 
 tremities of the world, cling by peculiar ties and 
 sacred associations and a closer kindred, of her, 
 whom we so love and venerate, as the common mother 
 of us all and so personify, under this familiar and 
 endearing appellation, that, looking towards her from 
 those places of exile, her hundreds of thousands of 
 homes, scarcely divided from one another by any
 
 16 THREE EEAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 unfraternal wall of separation, seem all and each to 
 be almost equally our own. 
 
 For never again can there be such preparation and 
 such a result. No unexplored continent is again to 
 cheer the eye of the long-baffled and almost despond 
 ent mariner now doubted, as if it must be only some 
 delusive cloud, and now re-hailed with the joyful cry 
 of " Land !" as it rises, low and distant, under the 
 eyelids of the morning, along the dim horizon of the 
 dreary main. Never again, by some yet unborn Co 
 lumbus, will a new world be given to the kingdom of 
 Castile and Leon. Never again will human memo 
 rials be emblazoned with the enduring record of all 
 their 
 
 -better fortitude 
 
 Of patience and heroic martyrdom. 
 
 Never will be relighted the gospel-kindling fires of 
 Smithfield, never be rewritten a like-affecting story 
 of the unexampled exile of Leyden, never such a 
 history of that one perilous traverse of the unknown 
 deep, instead of the southern verdure which hope had 
 fondly anticipated and portrayed, to picture the bare, 
 blank aspect of that wild, inhospitable sandcape, to 
 tell of the half-timorous yet half-hostile greeting of the 
 savage, of the biting and bitter welcome of winter, and 
 all from which the heart shrinks, as the eye wanders 
 over that simple narrative, of dangers where there was 
 no fear, and sufferings where there was no despair.
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 17 
 
 For my own part, I care little for the natural im 
 perfections of such men. It is superfluous to defend 
 the founders of New England. A vain and thankless 
 task is his, who attempts to underestimate their vir 
 tues, or to detract from the majestic proportions of 
 the gray fathers of the people. Their personal faults 
 passed with them into the grave, their just princi 
 ples and noble actions survived and blossomed into a 
 living harvest of sacred and immortal memory. Re 
 versing emphatically the sad doctrine of the sentiment 
 uttered over the dead body of Caesar, the good they 
 did lives after them, while the evil, if evil there were, 
 ended with their lives and is charitably interred with 
 their bones. Their imperishable monument, not con 
 tracted to the too narrow dimensions of any mere 
 material and precarious foundation, and exhibiting 
 to the outward eye neither glittering shaft, nor airy 
 pinnacle, is coextensive with the considerate judgment 
 of mankind. More fortunate than the progenitors of 
 any other race, there is neither obscurity nor uncer 
 tainty in the plain, clear and conscientious narration 
 of their simple and pious annals ; and no lapse of 
 time can obliterate the undisputed memorials of all 
 they were and did and suffered. If nothing else had 
 ever been written in their favor, there are two records, 
 at least, which will last forever to their praise. When 
 the first colony, which fled from the persecutions of 
 home, on the eve of their departure for their future 
 2*
 
 18 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 habitation in the wilderness, was now about to bid 
 that final and most affecting farewell to those hospit 
 able arms which Christian Holland had opened for 
 their refuge, the magistrates of Ley den solemnly 
 declared, that during their residence of twelve years, 
 which we well know were years of almost unparal 
 leled trials and privations, " these English" had not 
 troubled the city with a single suit, or any sort of 
 controversy ; and the greatest historian of England, 
 regarding their religious opinions with disdain and 
 their political tendencies with a strongly-defined and 
 systematic hostility, yet pronounces " So absolute 
 was the authority of the crown, that the precicms 
 spark of liberty had been kindled by the Puritans 
 alone ; and it was to this sect that the English owe 
 the whole freedom of their constitution." To the 
 peaceable, therefore, peaceable, when no rights in 
 dispensable to peace itself were infringed, and, thus 
 minded, who assumed the sword, only that, by it, they 
 might establish such tranquil rest as liberty alone 
 allows, we owe that flame of freedom, which, but for 
 them, had slumbered upon its embers throughout 
 prostrate and oppressed Europe, and another Chris 
 tendom, to be purer, as they hoped, and more intelli 
 gent, as it well might be wider and mightier than the 
 old. 
 
 From this point, therefore, we may fitly glance, for 
 a single moment, over what may be justly entitled the
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 19 
 
 Primitive Era of New England. Assuredly, in no 
 legitimate sense, can this be accounted a restoration 
 of the Saturnian reign. As men ordinarily estimate 
 happiness, the pilgrims of Plymouth, especially, were 
 deficient in everything, which enters into the vague 
 and illusory computation of external good. There 
 was an almost total absence of what reality furnished, 
 or imagination supplies, to complete the alluring pic 
 ture of a golden age. Not only the softer delights of 
 pastoral loveliness, but those grander developments, 
 which at least dignify nature in some of the severest 
 manifestations of her infinite moods, were equally 
 wanting. No awful and cloud-crowned mountain, 
 luminous with perpetual snows, glittered upon their 
 enchanted vision, no meadows spread before their 
 eyes, enamelled with amaranthine flowers, no rivers, 
 clearer and purer than the bountiful bosom of mater 
 nal earth ordinarily vouchsafes, sparkled between 
 emerald banks and over golden sands, nor could 
 they promise themselves to wander amidst consecrated 
 groves, resonant with the intermingled harmonies of 
 every airy melody and loaded with the lingering odors 
 of a myriad fragrant beds of spontaneous bloom, be 
 neath. But they saw before them the low swell of 
 the yellow sand-heap, and the dreariness of winter 
 settling down in browner shadows upon the more 
 distant hills instead of the lustrous gleam, that rolls 
 with the undercurrent of the azure river, blending its
 
 20 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 blue with gold, only the new-formed ice, that glittered 
 upon the margin of every standing pool, for meads 
 embroidered with luxuriant flowers of every softest 
 tint or deeper dye, nothing but the level of the deso 
 late marsh, stretching far away, crested only with its 
 unsightly patches of ragged sedge, and for the lul 
 ling music of Arcadian woods, no song but the sol 
 emn requiem of long-departed Summer, breathed by 
 the rising winds, in no gentle tones, to the responsive 
 sighings of the November pines. Scarcely to the peal 
 of triumphal hymns, therefore, but surely with patient 
 and undaunted hearts, they found and thus chose 
 their home, in the midst of a dreary wilderness, which 
 promised absolutely nothing to their present necessi 
 ties, but what the sad aspect of haggard want foretold, 
 under the dispensation and infliction of real suffering. 
 And yet, in the presence of such a scene, upon the 
 deck of their frail vessel, at her moorings, before the 
 first footstep had consecrated that Forefathers Rock, 
 to be forever afterwards the very altar-stone amongst 
 the memorials of that lonely harbor, looking truth 
 steadfastly in the face, and with a wiser forethought 
 of the true condition of man than theirs, who imagine 
 a primeval society of natural, unrestrained and there 
 fore impracticable human freedom, they drafted and 
 executed, as never was such instrument made before, 
 that brief and noble declaration of principles, look 
 ing to the future formation of a frame of civil govern-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 21 
 
 ment, which should be known to all succeeding times 
 as the Constitution of the Mayflower. 
 
 But though they thus settled upon the doctrine of 
 a polity worthy of the sagest men of state, the star in 
 the "West, which they had seen, signified to them only 
 security from religious persecution. No mere world 
 ling is competent to the just estimation of characters 
 quite out of the scope of his vision, whether he be 
 known under the title of philosopher or historian. 
 They cannot be judged, according to the ordinary 
 rules of worldly prudence, for the only prosperity 
 they sought was the rest of their souls. As literally 
 as Jacob in the house of Egypt and the presence of 
 Pharaoh, they counted the days of their years but the 
 progression of a pilgrimage, few and evil in the 
 computation of their sum, and each in succession but 
 bringing them, on the foot-road of a toilsome journey, 
 
 a day s march nearer home. 
 
 Actuated and governed, in a great degree by the 
 same general motives and principles, yet one chief 
 object of their compatriots of Massachusetts was un 
 doubtedly to build a state. And, as that chosen 
 barque, which first settled down with her precious- 
 freighted souls upon their Ararat of Plymouth, bore 
 the charming name of the freshest flower, which peeps 
 out of the chilly bosom of our New England spring, 
 so the flag-ship of that little squadron, which first
 
 22 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 cast anchor beneath the shadow of those three lonely 
 hills, looking down to-day upon the commerce of a 
 world, must be forever associated with one of the 
 sweetest of her sex, a lovelier flower, in the narrow 
 judgment of earth only too early transplanted to the 
 skies. I read the admirable letter of those adven 
 turous and high-toned men, to " the rest of their 
 brethren in and of the church of England," from the 
 cabin of the Arbella,* lying in Yarmouth roads, and 
 regarding that Christian resolution coupled with hu 
 mility and charity, and the self-sacrificing spirit of 
 those " persons of worth and quality," as they were 
 then styled, who came with "Winthrop and Saltonstall 
 and Johnson and Dudley and Vassall, and the rest, 
 who, on the eve of an enterprise, which, to have en 
 gaged the attention of such men, must have seemed 
 to them great, were looking forward to a dwelling- 
 
 * I so write the name of this vessel, rather than " Arabella," in 
 deference to the critical judgment of Hon. James Savage, the learned 
 editor of Winthrop s History of New England, and to the cotemporary 
 evidence of its correctness, which he adduces in the first volume of 
 that invaluable work. But there is still another reason for this, which 
 some may think even more conclusive. Arbella, it seems, was the 
 designation of a certain district or locality of Judea, eastward beyond 
 Jordan, and considering the marked preference of the Puritans for 
 Scripture names, or such as had a bearing on Scripture, they would 
 have been very likely to select this, for that reason ; especially, since 
 the word, Arabella, might involve an idea, in some sense offensive to 
 their peculiar notions. Besides, Arbella is, I presume, the original 
 word, of which the other may have been formed, for the sake of eu 
 phony, or by corrupt usage, at some period, either earlier, or more 
 probably later than their day.
 
 THREE EEAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 23 
 
 place in what they call their " poore cottages in the 
 wildernesse," and who, however exalted in mind 
 and reproached for spiritual pride, declare that they 
 " are not of those that clreame of perfection in this 
 world," and, methinks, in their case, there was, in 
 combination with their religious hopes, the impulse of 
 generous motives besides and a manifestation of great 
 and noble characteristics, broader if not higher, than 
 all which has been justly claimed for those pilgrims 
 of Plymouth, whose first track, like a new star-beam 
 over the waste of ocean, bridged it forever with inex 
 tinguishable light. And this Massachusetts, which 
 thus they made their own, is truly the mother of New 
 England ; for hers were all its colonies, either by the 
 natural and direct relations of offspring and home, or 
 else, in one particular instance, by the bestowal of her 
 maternal adoption and by filial submission to her 
 control. 
 
 There are a great many false notions and partial 
 views prevalent, in regard to the character and condi 
 tion of these fathers of a new world. One would 
 imagine, that any philosophical analysis of the motives 
 and qualities, which must have laid at the foundation 
 of such an enterprise, would have freed them from 
 many misapprehensions and imputations, to which 
 they are even now too often unjustly exposed. In 
 regard to the social position of the main body of them, 
 at home, in a mere worldly point of view, I am no
 
 24 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 more anxious than they were. But for their personal 
 merits and accomplishments, for the elements of their 
 private characters, for those intellectual and moral 
 traits, by which they were wiser and better than the 
 founders of any other commonwealth, we may justly 
 cherish the same elevated regard, which animates 
 every grateful heart, in remembrance of its participa 
 tion in any high and great and permanent good. 
 Upon any fair and just view of their purposes, I am 
 not willing to consider those men fanatics, who sub 
 mitted to every personal privation for the sake of free 
 dom of conscience, and for this great end, voluntarily 
 separated themselves, by an ocean rolling between, 
 from all those, to whom their conduct could give 
 offence. Nor will I call such persons bigots who, 
 having encountered and endured all things, to secure 
 a liberty, precious, peculiar, and as they deemed it 
 without controversy essential to their own spiritual 
 welfare, would not permit it to be disturbed, per 
 verted, or wrested away, by self-willed intruders of 
 whatever sect or degree, to whom the world of the 
 wilderness was as open elsewhere, as it had been to 
 themselves. The liberty of conscience which they 
 sought, judging of it only for such spiritual needs as 
 souls like theirs would crave, was liberty for their 
 own conscience and not another man s. If they and 
 their associates, who still remained behind, had been 
 made of that stuff, which some men call liberal, be-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 25 
 
 cause, being lukewarm in itself, it is equally uncon 
 cerned about every mode of faith, then, truly, the 
 church would have been troubled with no worse heresy 
 than vice, the authority of court and star-chamber had 
 been kept as undisputed, as it was insufferable and 
 despotic, Archbishop Laud had never stretched forth 
 his hand to stay the interrupted cmbarcation of that 
 one company of nonconformists, above all others, to 
 the thunder of whose squadrons all Europe so soon 
 listened, as, beneath the hoofs of their horses, hierar 
 chy and crown were trampled into the dust, no dis 
 ciplinary axe had turned its sharpened edge against 
 that "gray discrowned head," there would have been 
 no approximation made to a settlement of the wise 
 and just principles of religious liberty, and no impulse 
 afforded to the spirit of civil freedom throughout the 
 world. 
 
 The English moral poet somewhat impertinently 
 declares 
 
 Most women have no characters at all ! 
 
 Lf he had pronounced a similar judgment upon a 
 majority of the other sex, it would have been almost 
 equally just. But those, of whom I have been speak 
 ing, had character, individual, strongly-marked, pe 
 culiar, resulting from reflection moulded in suffer 
 ing, and heightened, if it could not be perfected, by 
 religious experience. I consider these men great, 
 therefore, who were directly or indirectly concerned 
 3
 
 26 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 in the most momentous revolution of opinions, which 
 has affected, or is likely to affect modern history ^ 
 great in their simplicity, in their integrity, in their 
 sacrifices and their struggles, and, above all, in that 
 unimpeachable sincerity of character, which is the 
 true secret of their greatness, as it is the earnest of 
 every other virtue. Whatever might have been their 
 particular grade in the social circle, the men, who were 
 the instruments in such undertakings, were not of the 
 ordinary stamp. Education they certainly had, in all 
 that the schools of Europe then could teach, more or 
 less generally diffused amongst them, and no true son 
 of New England can fail to honor them, for the value 
 which they so early and constantly manifested for its 
 advantages and its transmission. Plain as they may 
 seem to a superficial view, there was anything in 
 their company but a deficiency of the graces of refine 
 ment and cultivation, and assuredly many of their 
 leaders were distinguished by the profoundest learning 
 of the times and the noblest intellectual endowments. 
 Some of them, certainly, were persons of liberal for 
 tune and of public and private eminence, others had 
 left all their fortunes and every worldly expectation 
 behind them. There were few or none of them either 
 of that highest class, too much absorbed in mere fri 
 volities, or inextricably involved in affairs of state, or 
 bound to the soil by hereditary ties and duties, inca 
 pable of release, and they were far above that lowest
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 27 
 
 order, which is generally beneath the operation of ex 
 alted impulses and noble motives. But the friends of 
 Bradford and Brewster and Standish and Vane and 
 Winthrop and others, who came, and of Brook, of 
 Say and Sole, of Pelham, and Hampden and Pym 
 and Haslerig and Cromwell, who were kept at home 
 for the completion of other great cotcmporaneous un 
 dertakings, measured by the standard of any just 
 comparison, were anything but mean men. 
 
 We shall find few historic names in their records. 
 They were of Saxon, not of Norman origin. But 
 they were in general of that sturdy, middle class, 
 between the high and the low, husbandmen or 
 rural proprietors, without whose manly characteristics 
 and substantial nerve and muscle, there could have 
 been no historic names, nor any of that history which 
 dignifies a nation. They had as good soldiers in 
 their company as divines, and laymen of various pur 
 suits and occupations. They cannot be called men 
 of peace, for that motto of Massachusetts, which Syd 
 ney originally inscribed at one of the passes of the 
 Alps, shows that they understood the uses and neces 
 sities of war ; and, .indeed, their whole colonial exist 
 ence was little else than one long warfare, for a 
 period of more than a hundred and fifty years. Men 
 of their stamp and degree, such as subsequently 
 furnished the soldiers that Cromwell trained to vic 
 tory, the countrymen and ancestors of the first set-
 
 28 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 tiers of New England, must have been found always, 
 wherever the arms of England had acquired their old 
 renown ; of that order which so often, in the language 
 of a cotemporary historian, " had made all France 
 afraid," few in numbers, but invincible in courage 
 on the famous fields of hard-won battle, where 
 their warrior-kings would have no more men to 
 divide the honors of the day 
 
 When Valois braved young Edward s gentle hand, 
 And Albert rushed on Henry s way-worn band, 
 With Europe s chosen sons, in arms renowned, 
 Yet not on Vere s bold archers long they looked, 
 Nor Audley s squires, nor Mowbray s yeomen brooked, 
 They saw their standard fall and left their monarch bound. 
 
 I endeavor to imagine the condition of the colony, 
 a few years after the first sharp pinch of their almost 
 desperate necessities was past. They were still, as 
 they long continued to be, only a garrison in the 
 wilderness. Up to the period of 1640, it may be 
 safely computed, that the entire population of New 
 England, capable of bearing arms, did not vary much 
 from the tale of five thousand souls. And history, 
 surely, oifers no parallel to the fact of such an adven 
 turous foothold, so marvellously gained and kept in 
 the very face of a numerous savage people, whose 
 tendencies, at least, were hostile, whose friendship 
 was uncertain, whose treaties could only be reckoned 
 each a hollow truce, whose very nature called for the
 
 THEEE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 29 
 
 domination of fear, who could scarcely have discerned 
 the not very obvious advantages to themselves of yield 
 ing to the influence of conciliatory appeals, and who 
 possessed the physical power to overwhelm their scat 
 tered handful of neighbors, to the human eye so appa 
 rently feeble, at any chosen moment. But the esti 
 mate, put upon them, by the early settlers of. New 
 England, seems to have been made up of a mingled 
 sentiment of compassion for their heathenish igno 
 rance, contempt for their divided and broken strength, 
 and a guarded dread of their treacherous and lurking 
 instincts. But indeed these men were valiant, strong 
 and of good courage. And taking into consideration 
 their true condition, their insignificant numbers, their 
 inadequate means of defence, and that long siege of 
 unexampled perils, through many weary, painful, 
 watchful years, I count them brave with a more than 
 mortal valor. They were frugal, for, descended of a 
 nation very far from opulent, and in which the means 
 and sources of its subsequent wealth had only just 
 begun to be developed, and of a class, amongst which 
 necessity had long taught and systematized the prac 
 tice of a severe frugality, upon them this rugged 
 virtue imposed a still harder hand, for, besides that 
 sweat of the brow, which the primal curse, now almost 
 converted into a blessing, entails, the very cultivation 
 of their fields was often like the crimson harvest of 
 arms. The seed of peace, which they had planted in 
 3*
 
 30 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 trembling hope, was gathered in like a forage ; and fre 
 quently they ate the scanty bread, thus wrung from an 
 ungenial soil, sown, as it were, with armed men, at the 
 imminent hazard of their lives. Wise they were, for 
 clearly recognizing the spiritual elevation of mankind, 
 as the only legitimate object of human discipline, they 
 first sought the means for the advancement of what 
 ever is to remain to the intellectual and moral being, 
 when human discipline is at an end, and looking 
 far into the future, they endeavored thus to establish, 
 upon broad and immoveable foundations, the substan 
 tial happiness of a long-coming posterity. I venture 
 not to enlarge upon their piety, if they were not 
 pious, no men and women ever were ! 
 
 I see that simple structure for religious meeting, 
 spireless, and, I doubt not, comfortless enough to the 
 outward man, to which as external, and therefore 
 not vital,- in entire consistency with their views of 
 those corruptions of the establishment, which had 
 made the term, so applied, odious in their cars, they 
 refused the name of "church." I presume, in corre 
 spondence with a not uncommon fashion of their rural 
 descendants, it was frequently " set upon a hill," 
 not merely that they might fulfil, in a strictly literal 
 sense, the beautiful figure of Scripture, but in order 
 that the sentinel at the door might command ample 
 survey of the surrounding country, while his armed 
 neighbors were devoutly worshipping within. I see a
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 31 
 
 military captain of very tender conscience, resolutely 
 cutting the cross from the "meteor flag of England," 
 because he could not endure to march under such a 
 relic of antichrist, and the magistrates, tenderly con 
 sidering his motive, while they rebuked the offence 
 itself, since their consciences happily were a little 
 more enlightened. I remark, in illustration of their 
 primitive ways and condition, that the first Governor 
 of Plymouth Colony was taken with his fatal illness, 
 while he was laboring with the rest of the settlers in 
 the field ; and that, during the first hard winter, their 
 hearts sank at the discouraging tidings, that this head 
 of the state had the last batch of bread in the oven, 
 and that the first Governor of Massachusetts, seeing 
 that the people of Ipswich were destitute of a minister, 
 travelled to that village from Boston on foot, spent 
 the Sabbath with them, and " exercised by way of 
 prophecy." I read with pleasure, that, some years 
 afterwards, when the latter dignitary, as deputy-gov 
 ernor, was exposed to certain injurious charges, he 
 descended from his chair of magistracy, which was a 
 literal, not a figurative upper seat, against all remon 
 strance, and though " many of the court and assem 
 bly," we are told, " were grieved about his being in 
 that place," put himself at the bar of the accused, 
 and upon his triumphant acquittal, delivered a speech 
 seldom, if ever, surpassed, for its manly eloquence, its 
 dignified humility, its just, liberal, simple and yet
 
 32 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 statesmanlike views of the great and still misunder 
 stood relations of human society. I contrast the too 
 common impression, of the harsh lineaments of these 
 severe Puritans, with their profound and affectionate 
 lamentation over the death of a noble lady of their 
 company, who, in their own language, had come 
 " from a paradise of plenty into a wilderness of wants." 
 And I see these men, too often reputed only cold, sec 
 tarian, narrow bigots, sour in external demeanor, 
 and inwardly almost divested of every human affec 
 tion, upon the arrival of the wife of their chief mag 
 istrate, in the midst of many distresses, gallantly as 
 sembling to " entertain her with a guard and divers 
 vollies," and magistrates and people bringing to 
 gether such great store of bodily comforts, to attest 
 their welcome, " so as the like joy and manifestation 
 of love had never been seen in New England." 
 
 It has been the general policy of warfare and of 
 diplomatic negotiations, to set those forces at variance 
 with each other, whereof the combined relations 
 might be deemed of probable disadvantage to the ne 
 gotiating party. But, so far as I know, it was re 
 served for these just men, fearing God and knowing 
 no other fear, to manifest the highest principles of 
 equity, by mediating for the pacification of savage 
 tribes, hostile to themselves and hostile to each other, 
 and whose passions, by the superior artifices of civiliza 
 tion, might have been easily wrought upon, for the
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 33 
 
 benefit of the colonists and their own extermination. 
 When no efforts at conciliation were found to be of 
 any avail, I observe their resolute execution of their 
 necessary purposes towards an inveterate foe. And, 
 in illustration of this element of their character, I 
 should be glad to linger a moment, if it were possi 
 ble, over that most romantic and touching episode of 
 their history, which an illustrious countryman of our 
 own too illustrious in the literature of the world, to 
 permit you to claim for him anything more than the 
 honor of his birth, has made forever immortal, in his 
 beautiful memorial of Philip of Mount Hope. 
 
 I run through the stormy current of our colonial 
 history, the narrative of their conflicts and apprehen 
 sions of conflicts with domestic and foreign enemies 
 the Indian, so often made to yield and the Spaniard, 
 whom they, at one time, dreaded, of very head 
 strong and wilful-minded Dutchmen, whom they sub 
 dued by themselves, and querulous, reluctant French 
 men, whom they reduced to subjection in their strong 
 holds, or aided their countrymen from home to van 
 quish, upon their most inaccessible and formidable 
 heights. I read of their truly independent political 
 condition, prudently and sometimes with difficulty 
 upheld, against the influence and evil speech of zeal 
 ous foes at home, as they lovingly called the mother 
 land, and the jealous care, though more frequently 
 he generous countenance, if not encouragement and
 
 34 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 support, of its own distracted state and varying gov 
 ernment ; and of that long interval, when the despe 
 rate struggles of England happily left them to the 
 maturer development of their own resources. I im 
 agine their steadily advancing strength and stability. 
 I see the huts, in which they first sought refuge, grad 
 ually yet rapidly exchanged for those quaint gable- 
 roofed and oddly-projecting dwellings, of which relics 
 yet exist, going back to a very early period, in some 
 of our older towns, exhibiting no very accurate co 
 incidence with the models of classic architecture, but 
 which really seem to me far more picturesque, than 
 the blank aspect of many modern edifices. They 
 break through the forest, by a thousand difficult and 
 dangerous paths, the garrison-house becomes only 
 the occasional place of refuge, instead of the necessity 
 of nightly resort, the close stockade gives place to 
 the open street of the long, straggling village, or to 
 the remoter settlement, or the lonely and still peril 
 ous farm-house, and the buif-coat, thick enough and 
 tough enough to turn away any ball, which any pow 
 der of that day could have had force enough to pro 
 pel, and which, as I have actually set eyes upon it, 
 must have completely enveloped the person of the 
 redoubted warrior, whom it protected in his Indian 
 conflicts, eventually yields to less voluminous habili 
 ments.
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 35 
 
 I see them wise, therefore, and brave and frugal 
 and just and pious, with the characteristic attributes 
 of heroes and statesmen and, if you please, of Chris 
 tian martyrs themselves, and, for the sake of these 
 fundamental virtues of humanity and distinguishing 
 elements of greatness, I am willing to overlook very 
 much, which, in their day and our own, has been too 
 readily charged against them, the banishment of a 
 quaker or two, now and then, who innocently persist 
 ed in abiding under a jurisdiction, which, in accord 
 ance ,with what their judgment deemed essential to 
 their own civil and religious peace, could not coun 
 tenance and deliberately repulsed him ; and who only 
 persisted in returning, over and over again, to bear 
 his somewhat officious and foolhardy testimony against 
 those, who had solemnly forbidden him to come, on 
 pain of death, or other errors of the times, in falling, 
 into delusions, which I confess seem to me quite ex 
 cusable, under the circumstances, in comparison with 
 some, which people of reputed intelligence subject 
 themselves to, in our own enlightened day, or, the 
 close-cut hair, the short cloak, (so lately revived) the 
 Geneva band, the formal ruff and beard, and the 
 heavy-hilted, perhaps rusty, but undoubtedly service 
 able rapier of the one sex ; and, of the other, the prim 
 cap, the dress, more completely if not more gracefully 
 than now adapted to the form, the unadorned loveli 
 ness, and the show of only just so much lace and
 
 36 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 trinketry, as the dames or damsels of the day could 
 persuade, I fear only too successfully, some of the 
 more tender-hearted amongst the worthy magistrates, 
 to permit them to display. 
 
 And, upon any just judgment of the ordinary prog 
 ress of human affairs, for what speculative failure they 
 can be properly accounted responsible, I do not know, 
 these founders of a Puritan Commonwealth, whose 
 system was necessarily modified by advancing time and 
 opinions, who tints took possession of so considerable 
 a region of an uncivilized hemisphere, and so main 
 tained themselves, under all sufferings and against all 
 conflicts and discouragements, who established prin 
 ciples of civil government still subsisting in their 
 original force, and chiefly by their means diffused 
 over a nation of free institutions, who developed a 
 religious character, yet venerated by a vast majority 
 of their descendants, and, in spite of declensions, to 
 which their own, like every other community, must 
 have been subject, still seriously affecting the minds 
 and conduct of their posterity, and who entered into 
 a civil compact, of mutual defence and offence, of 
 such binding virtue and obligation amongst them 
 selves, that the distinctive features of the alliance, 
 though not formally acknowledged now, and though 
 practically superseded by State and National Consti 
 tutions, yet, in no merely theoretical sense, remains, 
 making that population, so feeble only a little more
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 37 
 
 than two centuries ago and now reckoned by mil 
 lions, still a peculiar people within the bounds of its 
 own territory, remarkably concordant in opinion on 
 topics of public interest or importance, whether right 
 or wrong ; and making the children, who go out from 
 it, to whatever other state or distant country, to retain, 
 in a singular degree, and after the lapse of many years, 
 the habits and thoughts, the feelings and affections of 
 New England. So that, under this venerated name, 
 she holds her reputation, which, more than upon any 
 present intelligence, enterprise, prosperity or power, 
 rests upon the character of the ancestors of her peo 
 ple, resulting from their solid virtues and substantial 
 wisdom ; but a reputation, which must be necessarily 
 forfeited, as these ennobling elements decline. 
 
 It has been so much a labor of love with me, to 
 contemplate at some length this primitive era, that I 
 find it necessary, at this point, to change the title of 
 my Lecture, and passing completely over one period, 
 though less necessary, as being more familiar, 
 which I had intended to consider, for a while, under 
 the character of the heroic, to proceed at once to the 
 third, which I shall denominate the practical, though 
 many are fond of calling it the intellectual era of New 
 England. 
 
 We launch, then, upon a wider and deeper sea, 
 and, pondering boldly, let us ask what there is valua 
 ble of the past, since such was the past, which this 
 4
 
 38 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 broad, grasping and insatiable present profitably re 
 tains. For I suppose, that even the most enthusiastic 
 disciple of progress, who thinks at all, does not 
 imagine that man, the human being, who has ful 
 filled his generations upon earth, now for six thou 
 sand years, imprisoned for life in this single planet, 
 and possessed only of certain definite capacities, is 
 absolutely to drop, like a serpent his slough, all the 
 experience of his race, together with their hereditary 
 and constitutional characteristics, and to walk forth, 
 regenerated and disenthralled, towards some unknown 
 and indeterminate point, upon the desolate ocean of 
 adventurous discovery. 
 
 What we have been considering hitherto was un 
 doubtedly definite, the qualities sound and positive, 
 the virtues substantial and actual. The persons con 
 templated were men and women, committing errors 
 unquestionably, but still their characters were true, 
 and they themselves meaning something real, and 
 working consistently to that end. If they were over- 
 formal in their manners, this slight discrepancy with 
 a more modern recklessness of demeanor resulted 
 from a deep sense of personal responsibility, control 
 ling and attempering outward demonstration, and, if 
 precise in opinions, and their consequent mode of ex 
 pressing them, it was because, turning neither to the 
 right hand nor to the left, they earnestly sought to see 
 (dearly and so to speak of the nature and obligation
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 39 
 
 of the highest conceivable duties. And if they were 
 in truth good and great, it was because, endeavoring 
 to leave behind them, so far as it was possible, in a 
 world, the public and private duties of which they 
 never neglected or disdained, the beggarly elements- 
 of mere worldly ways, they did actually and personally 
 strive for a superior virtue and a superior intelligence.. 
 And since a combination of these two must form the- 
 supreme rational object of human existence, and, thus 
 sought, explains their remarkable traits and the accom 
 plishment of those aims, which were the wonder of 
 their own day, as they will be the growing admiration 
 of all future time, it would seem, that any observable 
 deterioration, on our part, must imply a failure to fol 
 low in the same steadfast pursuit of substantial good. 
 For this grand and universal object of every intelli 
 gent human soul, which a thousand philosophers, 
 groping blindly throughout the universe, and count 
 less generations of men have equally failed to discover, 
 they sought only, where only it could be found, in the 
 inmost depths of their own spiritual being. 
 
 So far, then, as analogy avails, I should hesitate to- 
 look into a state of society, which calls itself practi 
 cal, for the most extraordinary developments of char 
 acter and the highest manifestations of intellectual 
 power. And yet we know that all sinks, or has sunk r 
 where these are absent. The level surface is in real 
 ity stagnant. There must be something high in
 
 40 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 thought and action, or all things will be equally low. 
 Men are either aiming for great things, or they are 
 content with small. Society either advances, or it 
 recedes. It will not do for it to settle down upon 
 mere absolute realities, so called repressing all the 
 human host of spontaneous and perhaps unintelligible 
 desires, which are still so suggestive of nobler and 
 purer, if as yet unsatisfied sympathies. For, to do so, 
 let me remark, is materialism and materialism, 
 tricked out in whatever external decorations or mere 
 intellectual refinements, is but a turn of the corner 
 to barbarity itself. And however decent even such a 
 world may outwardly appear, within it is full of dead 
 men s bones and all imclcanness. It would be like 
 the loathsome creatures of the earth crawling amidst 
 violets, delicacy, and fragrance and loveliness and 
 bluest bloom above, beneath, poison, distortion, and 
 disgust. 
 
 I am perfectly willing to yield to the spirit of the 
 times every vain or seemingly unprofitable illusion, 
 if I can only be informed by some clearer-minded 
 realist, than it has yet been my fortune to meet, what 
 are the illusions and what the realities of this mortal 
 state. I know that those of its things which are ordi 
 narily accounted civilization, its palaces and temples 
 and freighted ships and warehouses opulent with the 
 riches of nations, and its clasps of communicable iron, 
 interlacing and girdling an empire, and even its intel-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 41 
 
 lectual speculations into the abyss of the unknown, 
 may be only deceptive indications, and not its un 
 doubted proofs. I know that civilization does consist 
 of liberty and order, and harmonious thought and 
 feeling, and refinement and virtue, and that the per 
 fection of these excellencies demands the cultivation 
 of all the immortal capacities of the mind and heart, 
 and that, for want of our means, in this behalf, no 
 nation of the heathen world ever did or ever could 
 reach, or even imagine, that standard of general ele 
 vation, set forth for the example and attainment of a 
 Christian age. I know, moreover, because reason 
 and observation and experience cooperate to teach the 
 salutary lesson, that these characteristics of a people 
 are no more developed and sustained by the keenest 
 faculties, ever sharpened in the collisions of the mar 
 ket or the contests of the forum, than by the number 
 less and nameless graces, which owe their birth to our 
 imaginative perceptions, by the infinite and vague 
 emotions of the spirit within us, impressing upon the 
 forms of things, as well as it is able, the pictured 
 image of its own unsatisfied longings, or by the soli 
 tary contemplations of the student of nature and of 
 art, moulding the means and ends of life into the 
 shapely proportions of a model, quite beyond the 
 reach, it may be, of that practical conception, around 
 whose knotted hardness they yet verdantly and benev- 
 4*
 
 42 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 olently entwine all life itself can know of grace and 
 blessing and joy. 
 
 But the age of reality should, at least, be the age 
 of certainty. And, as a lover of truth and a lover of 
 my country, I should be glad to learn, if possible, in 
 the investigation of this subject, what reasonable 
 prospect there is in the future, for certain improve 
 ment in law, and order and government, and mind 
 and morals, in social opinion and social virtue, and 
 whatever else may be the fundamental elements of 
 happiness and prosperity, under a condition of things, 
 which I think the general judgment would pronounce 
 more unsettled than ever before. We do not need to 
 go to the lessons of philosophy in order to ascertain, 
 that intellectual pride and conceit and self-sufficiency 
 are neither the sources, the means, nor the evidences 
 of knowledge ; and that presumption is a mark of 
 weakness, tending to deterioration, and not of strength, 
 giving promise of future good. It is an unfavorable 
 state of society, which prides itself on being better 
 than the past, for then it is likely to be contented 
 with inferiority, and, having no motive for improve 
 ment, it actually recedes. That individual man can 
 not and will not learn, who believes himself already 
 quite above the mark of whatever has been attained 
 by others in ages before. To him, the pursuits of 
 those, who yet anchor themselves upon established 
 truth, may seem little better than superfluous. And
 
 THREE EEAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 43 
 
 yet he may find that the probability of his own supe 
 rior progress is an important question, not yet, per 
 haps, so conclusively settled. 
 
 It does not follow, that society is in a more healthy 
 condition, because a certain amount of general prac 
 tical information, of greater or less tenuity, is diffused 
 over the surface of the community. There still may 
 be dreary barrens and dismal depths, in the one as 
 pect, and, in the other, no mountain of refuge, or any 
 projecting cliff, to which we can fly for safety in the 
 storm. The return to practical materialism is much 
 more easy than many imagine. And, if we, looking 
 only towards the future, reject that wisdom of the 
 Past, which in morals and the science of the mind, at 
 least, is the true basis of knowledge, it is not too 
 much to say, that our descendants, growing gradually 
 shallower and more shallow, may find themselves, at 
 length, slumbering in the twilight of an age, than 
 which no other has been more dark. And all our 
 exterior splendors would no more indicate refinement, 
 or secure freedom, than the magnificent ecclesiastical 
 edifices of former times, than the palaces of op 
 pressed Italy, than the cathedrals of degraded and 
 distracted Spain. 
 
 But, in fact, we do not, each and all, know by trans 
 mission, whatever has been learned and known before. 
 This is not a present convertible possession of the world, 
 upon which we can count, as an inheritance, to be the
 
 44 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 readily-employed stepping-stone to future acquisitions. 
 The ordinary physical improvements in the usages of 
 life can be reduced, indeed, to common practice and 
 diffused, so that much, which tends ta our external 
 comfort, and was altogether beyond the possible 
 imagination of ruder times, becomes the general 
 property and contributes to the universal welfare, 
 although nothing could be easier, than to show an 
 almost total ignorance of, and indifference to, the most 
 manifest improvements, even of this description, within 
 the circle of our own ordinary observation. But the 
 triumphs of intellect and the attainments of virtue 
 are reached only by a very different process. For 
 these are severally to be gained by every individual 
 man, in his own generation, or not at all. In these 
 there is no common stock. His training in these 
 respects must be as much his own, as if nothing had 
 been accomplished, in all past time ; and, for all that 
 lias gone by, there are tens of thousands in the streets 
 and hovels of this city, to-night, who are neither wiser 
 nor better, than the least-considered of their prede 
 cessors, a thousand years ago. I am 110 better, indi 
 vidually, for the moral precepts of every age of the 
 world, no wiser for its learning, its science and its 
 literature, unless their truths and excellencies and 
 results have each been sought out and applied by me, 
 individually, for myself. And, although science, cer 
 tainly, as being concerned more directly with the out-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 45 
 
 ward necessities of our nature, has crowned its 
 eminent explorers with their fame and their reward, 
 yet too much neglect of the obviously intelligible doc 
 trine I have suggested may account for other deficien 
 cies, which have been thought to denote the declining, 
 rather than the essentially progressive character of 
 the age. 
 
 The popular theory, in one class of modern society, 
 unquestionably is, that man, under the action of cer 
 tain mysterious influences, as yet only imperfectly 
 developed, and how to be developed even, does not yet 
 appear, is eventually to become something in the scale 
 of intelligent being, which he never yet has been. I 
 do not know to what definite extent this idea has 
 been carried, or what accurate notion has been formed 
 of this physical phase of progress. So far as I do 
 know, the algebraic formula as yet exhibits only an 
 unknown quantity. But it has been quite sufficient, 
 certainly, to disturb and unsettle, to no inconsiderable 
 extent, the surface of the mind of New England, so 
 that vague speculation, upon important subjects, if 
 nothing worse, has either eradicated, or essentially 
 modified, ancient well-defined convictions, by which 
 its population was formerly marked, and which un 
 doubtedly made one chief element of its real or pre 
 sumed superiority. 
 
 For my own part, entertaining great diffidence in 
 regard to the perfectibility of human nature, if any-
 
 46 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 thing seems apparent to my mind, it is, that this 
 object, if attainable, is to be reached only by certain 
 legitimate means, the leading principles of which 
 are no more clearly understood, in the light of to-day, 
 than when the grand system of man, as he is and is 
 to be, was proclaimed and unfolded, long ages ago. 
 To the moral being, the moral law was just as essen 
 tial then, as it is now, and just as applicable in all its 
 general relations. Progressive, or otherwise, no en 
 tangling speculations raise him one tittle above his 
 encompassing responsibilities to the lord of life and 
 master of creation, or aid him to build any enduring 
 kingdom upon what he seems now resolved to call the 
 realities of this world. Even in the physical constitu 
 tion of nature, he must continue to find many things 
 too high for him, and altogether beyond the limited 
 capacity of his power. Some things, unaccomplished, 
 but yet conceivable, and some, perhaps, as yet incon 
 ceivable, he still may become able to do. But he can 
 never float, to any practical purpose, upon the waver 
 ing pinions of the air he cannot ascend the mountain- 
 tops without toil, or return in safety from the uttermost 
 depths of ocean. He may talk of subduing nature, but 
 she controls him he is strictly subject to all her physi 
 cal laws and finds no security, except in absolute con 
 formity. A torrent of the mountain sweeps him to 
 destruction, in defiance of his boasted skill and 
 strength and courage, the proudest bark, that ever
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 47 
 
 rode upon the billow, breaks under him and he sinks 
 into the deep. He has not the slightest conception of 
 the elementary properties of the very wind in which 
 he trusts to waft him all his wealth, and some un 
 noticed change in the atmosphere, which is the breath- 
 ful food of his life, of the causes and operation of 
 which he really knows nothing, stretches him upon 
 his bier. He cannot avoid the lightning or resist the 
 whirlwind. Do what he will, be what he will, 
 there will still be peril, misjudgmcnt, uncertainty, 
 disappointment, defeat, his stoutest purposes thwart 
 ed, his closest calculations reversed, he will be the 
 puppet of chance, the slave of circumstances, the 
 subject creature of a power mightier than himself, 
 there will still be the resistances, the non-conformi 
 ties, the uncompliant divergencies, the uncontrollable 
 complications of human affairs, there will still be 
 discordant passions, interests, intolligencies, caprices, 
 hopes and fears, the failing intellect, the enfeebled 
 frame, there will still be disease, there will still be 
 death ! 
 
 If his thoughts are tempted to pass beyond the 
 routine of his daily toils, perhaps he gazes curiously 
 through a hollow tube, and unnumbered mysterious 
 worlds float within the scope of his projected vision. 
 Of their relations to the globe he inhabits, or to one 
 another, he can form no adequate idea, and he in 
 stinctively withdraws from the contemplation of a vast
 
 48 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 and complex system of the universe, so utterly beyond 
 the compass of his circumscribed imagination, that 
 the effort at its analysis only prostrates his powers. 
 Marvelling, he beholds the fiery messenger of heaven, 
 periodically returning from its range of centuries, 
 and what proximate idea has ever enlightened his 
 perplexed understanding, as to the mission and uses 
 of this strange and startling visitant of the skies ? 
 Under the common blaze of day, when he persuades 
 himself he is acting his highest part amidst the recog 
 nized realities of life, though then, more than ever, 
 he is drawn away from himself, and what he actually 
 is, is confounded and lost, yet, in the confusion, or 
 the concentration of his mind, he believes, perhaps, in 
 nothing, but that practical, progressive state of society, 
 along whose well-grooved ways and upon whose open, 
 established channels of communication, men are me 
 chanically borne forward to honor and to fortune. 
 But, under the hush of night, he looks into those far 
 depths of unimaginable azure, he observes the inex 
 pressible loveliness, the unfailing lustre, the unbroken 
 arrangement, the immemorial order and glory of the 
 stars, not one, broad, diffusive, circumambient at 
 mosphere of daily light, common to all and, there 
 fore, of no peculiar individual significancy, and 
 ministering subserviently to his own, amongst the 
 ordinary necessities of mankind, and upon whose 
 central effulgence he neither cares nor dares to gaze,
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 49 
 
 but an infinite, separable, miraculous congregation 
 of rolling worlds, each a beaming witness, indisputa 
 ble to reason, of something far surpassing the narrow 
 limits of his comprehension, and each an ordained 
 oracle, almost prompting his heart of ignorant pride 
 to whisper to itself What is man ? 
 
 This is a serious, and it may seem a sad picture of 
 some of the capacities and prospects of a progressive 
 age, which, by all the supcradded intellectual efforts 
 of long successive generations, it must be admitted, 
 is very imperfectly instructed in regard to heaven 
 above and earth beneath ; but I deem it necessary 
 to be contemplated, and only too suitable to the sub 
 ject and the times. I summon the Progressive Age, 
 then, and place it at the bar of deliberate and solemn 
 judgment. I ask, what is Progress ? and claim its 
 intelligible response. I will be satisfied with no 
 vague, uncertain, sounding generalities, but call for 
 an accurate definition of its nature and its hopes. 
 At least, some appreciable idea of the contemplated 
 voyage is the right of every fellow-passenger, equally 
 interested in the freight, and to be carried forward, 
 whether he will or no, he would gladly learn towards 
 what point of safety, upon the same advancing tide. 
 The object of life, in civilized man alone, or, amongst 
 civilized men associated, is Good. What cannot be 
 shown to be good, is generally distinctively evil and 
 nothing is more likely to be so, than a confused and 
 5
 
 50 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 objectless condition of individual or social existence. 
 Is it no longer to be assumed as certain that there 
 are principles of things, true, eternal, inalienable and 
 unavoidable, and universally applicable to every age 
 and race ? Judged by these, if they be admitted, are 
 we to become, intellectually and morally, better or 
 worse ? Are we to be more intelligent, more sound, 
 more sober, more just, more honorable, more charita 
 ble, more sincere ? This is the only test. And, if it 
 cannot be shown that progress is likely to bring about 
 this hopeful reformation, then we may be sure our 
 progress has not taken the shape of advancement, 
 .and we shall be compelled to come to the startling 
 :and terrible conclusion, that society, under the mod- 
 ern theory of progress and reality, may be breaking 
 its allegiance to reason, which is the manifestation of 
 truth, and, without truth, what were this world ? 
 what were the universe of God ? And yet, though 
 Truth itself will certainly abide, what condition of 
 rsocial existence would that be, giving no security 
 for life, or property, or freedom, which, deserting its 
 reverence for that which only is, this golden, inap 
 preciable, immovable and imperishable true, should 
 yield itself up to the fluttering impulse of the hour ? 
 For then, so far from being enlightened, upon any 
 just idea of intelligence, or safe, upon any probable 
 calculation of stability, or free, in any rational sense 
 iOf liberty, we should have become enslaved to a
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 51 
 
 vague public opinion, which has no substantial, set 
 tled, definite, responsible existence, which sprang 
 up, it knows not how, is directed by influences, it 
 knows not what, and is rapidly bearing us forward, 
 we know not whither. 
 
 But, perhaps, my distinction between an intellectual 
 and a practical age was unnecessary ; and though, 
 upon a superficial glance, they might seem the direct 
 antitheses of each other, yet they may be found, after 
 all, to be mere convertible terms. For, consider that 
 the human being is in his best estate, when his moral 
 attributes cooperate most harmoniously with his intel 
 lectual faculties. Could these be perfectly conjoined,, 
 according to his order, he would be a perfect being. 
 Divest him of the first, which regulate his relations to 
 society and his Maker, and his mind reverts at once 
 to the contemplation and sordid pursuit of present 
 good. He may build and sow and reap and get gain- 
 He may exercise the keenest insight into all his mate 
 rial aptitudes and necessities and the means of their 
 adaptation and supply. He may fathom not only the 
 depths of physical science, but may speculate within 
 a certain range of intellectual philosophy, and inves 
 tigate and unfold the subtle principles of human gov 
 ernment. So far as his faculties are employed upon 
 the practical pursuits of mankind, he still is merely 
 practical, though he may be eminently intellectual. 
 But if, in regard to moral sense, he hold himself
 
 52 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 amenable only to the policy of life, his intellectuality, 
 controlled by no reference to immutable truth, will 
 be likely to lead him to mere abstraction, and ab 
 straction, unless regulated by a just sense of the moral 
 relations of things, is sheer fanaticism. He may seem 
 to himself, then, and to others, to be even a reformer 
 and a philanthropist, and a speculator in the univer 
 sal, material, external welfare of mankind. The 
 natural quest of the sublimated human mind, working 
 with its own unassisted powers, and dissatisfied with 
 the apparent condition of things, is not after the reali 
 zation of an excellence in itself, which might be prof 
 itable, but for the abstract idea of absolute perfection 
 in human affairs, for perfect equality, perfect free 
 dom, and even, so far as the practice of outward 
 virtue is found requisite to the public interest, for 
 perfect goodness itself, and yet with no desire 
 prompted by a single just motive. And, so it would 
 be seen, that this speculative intellectualism may be 
 striving after only a seeming positive, which constantly 
 eludes its grasp, and be turning away from only a 
 seeming ideal, which, by gradual assimilation to its 
 nature, might be converted, at length, in its own 
 essence, into a reality of supreme excellence. And 
 so, it would be like the rudderless barque, otherwise 
 fitted to traverse the great Atlantic and Pacific deep, 
 yet miserably stranded upon the nearest shoal. 
 For, in fact, it would carry into the practical opera-
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 53 
 
 tions of life the very chimera of society, imagined in 
 the mouth of one of his characters, by the universal 
 poet of wisdom 
 
 I the commonwealth, I would by contraries 
 Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic 
 Would I admit, no name of magistrate, 
 Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, 
 And use of service, none ; contract, succession, 
 Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ; 
 No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ; 
 No occupation ; all men idle, all, 
 And women too. 
 
 In a word, such a theorist merely dreams ; and his 
 dreams, wearing the semblance only of excellence, 
 are in reality mischievous, instead of beneficial ; and 
 the prevalence of his speculations is anything but an 
 encouraging test of the substantial welfare and wis 
 dom of the community. And, accordingly, to such 
 an exemplification of the extravagant impracticabili 
 ties of the intellectual era, the wise poet still replies, 
 
 Prythee no more, thou dost talk nothing to me. 
 
 It was a very different glance given by one, whose 
 glances were like the blades of piercing spears, at a 
 social state actually sanctioned by the consenting tes 
 timony of all human experience, by one, who was 
 certainly a very great man (while there were great 
 men) of strong, noble and magnanimous character, 
 and of whose personal virtues, so far as I know or
 
 54 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 believe, there can be no dispute. It is to be found in 
 the speech of Oliver Cromwell to his second parlia 
 ment, couched in his peculiar style of phraseology, 
 and unfolding, within the compass of a hint, the germ 
 of principles always worthy the profoundest consider 
 ation. 
 
 "And so many of them," says he, " as are peace 
 ably and honestly and quietly disposed to live within 
 the rules of Government, and will be subject to those 
 Gospel rules of obeying magistrates and living under 
 authority, I reckon no godliness without that circle ! 
 Without that spirit, let it pretend what it will, it is 
 diabolical, it is devilish, it is from diabolical spirits, 
 from the depths of Satan s wickedness." 
 
 I am detaining you, I know, very much too long, 
 but you will see it is upon a topic susceptible of much 
 more extended and particular treatment, than a lec 
 ture permits. Allow me, however, to bring to a close 
 this discussion of social principles, which is so inevi 
 tably general, and yet drawn up with no lack of such 
 thoughtful care, as it was in my power to bring to the 
 consideration of a subject, which challenges an inter 
 est and attention beyond all others, in its relations to 
 morals and manners and education and government 
 and religion, in a word, to the structure of society 
 itself and the apparent symptoms of its health or its 
 disorder. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the mind of New Eng-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 55 
 
 land has been very much stirred up, in these latter 
 days, and that very great changes have already taken 
 place, in the personal characteristics, as manifested by 
 the expressed opinions and general demeanor of the 
 people. I know that this is called " movement," imply 
 ing a progressive advancement, and that it fails not 
 to find many ardent eulogists, in the various depart 
 ments of public oratory and literature and the press. 
 Those, who are venturesome enough, either to resist 
 or to stand aloof, expose themselves to a good deal of 
 obloquy and ridicule, as men bigotedly and perti 
 naciously resolved to stay behind the times. 
 
 Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage 
 
 is the somewhat inconsiderate moral of the modern 
 doctrine. Still, the real question remains, whether 
 these thoughtful persons may not be wisely striving, 
 for their own substantial benefit and that of society, 
 to make good the hold they have upon the solid and 
 permanent shore, while this ungovernable ship, the 
 times, has been only buying, at a price, discordant 
 and contrary wind-bags of every treacherous and mis 
 chievous witch upon the coast, and then madly put 
 ting to sea, amidst these angry and conflicting cross- 
 blasts of 
 
 Caurus and Eurus and Argestcs loud. 
 
 You would not have me say, I know, that amongst
 
 56 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 any considerable portion of the better classes, in old- 
 fashioned, sensible, sturdy, worthy, respectable, and 
 consequently respected New England, there was to be 
 seen in morals, rather a convenient formality, than 
 any settled basis of character, that its former sober 
 and proverbial Yankee inquisitiveness of mind was 
 degenerating into mere flippancy of manners, that 
 its system of education might be found to prove only 
 a delusion and a snare, and by growing more tech 
 nical and wider in its range, it was in danger of 
 becoming little better than the thinnest possible out 
 side burnish, and that, especially, the lilies of the 
 garden of knowledge were often only very wastefully 
 painted, that there was really less regard for the 
 great and valuable principles of government, anxiously 
 to be upheld, under all popular institutions, like the 
 pillars of the temple of freedom, than for the manage 
 ment of the state, as a mere engine of political 
 schemers, and that the fervent faith of the fathers 
 was strangely growing cooled, under the blazing sun 
 shine of an enlightened age, into a more than Laodi 
 cean lukewarmness. 
 
 And yet, if apart from the manifest improvements 
 in our outward state, there be reason to think, that 
 such are amongst the observable indications of what 
 is now called Progress, and if, as a consequence it 
 appears, that those, who assume to be our leaders and 
 guides, the organs of public opinion, the controllers
 
 THKEE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 57 
 
 of public sentiment, and thus the very contrivers and 
 framers of public action, are of a class, in which such 
 characteristics are more clearly seen, as they are 
 more naturally and easily reached, than the nobler, 
 greater and less easily attainable qualities, which 
 result from high principle and severe self-discipline 
 and a just public requirement, then to me it seems, 
 that the subject demands the deliberate and undis- 
 couraged devotion of the wisest, best and truest 
 minds amongst us, and that a steady administration 
 of wholesome truth would profitably take the place 
 of an almost universal spirit of self-laudation. For, 
 seeing our natural faces in such a glass, we straitway 
 forget what manner of men we are. Nor, thus blinded, 
 can any true improvement be made, which is only to 
 be carried forward upon the settled, recognized and 
 universal principles, which spring, like flowers or 
 like weeds, at the very sources of man s moral na 
 ture. And this is just as certain, as it is, that humil 
 ity is the main helper of all virtue and all knowledge, 
 which a conceited, pragmatical and retro-active spirit 
 only obstructs. 
 
 I trust I have made no such unprofitable use of 
 my means of observation and reflection, and of the 
 lessons of history and the instructions of religion, as 
 to form any extravagant and indefinite expectations 
 of society. The fruit of the tree of knowledge of 
 good and evil is still as bitter in the mouth of man,
 
 58 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 as it proved to bo, to his original taste. I am quite 
 willing you should understand me to believe that 
 condition of society to be the most healthful and 
 prosperous, in which men really appear superior to 
 one another, for then we may be sure that some 
 have tasked their better faculties to the utmost, and 
 that too great uniformity does not, because in the 
 nature of things it cannot indicate the approximation 
 of the entire community to an exalted standard. 
 For, since it is the inevitable lot of humanity to be so 
 preoccupied, that any extraordinary degree of culti 
 vation is generally impracticable, except in those 
 moral attributes, which are within the reach of all, so 
 I do not see how any social state can be really health 
 ful, which exhibits little comparative excellence. 
 Like Mr. Carlyle, I believe in heroes, though (to my 
 misfortune) I never happened to read a word of his 
 pamphlet, for, without this kind of superiority, pop 
 ular institutions, which are then deprived of the spur 
 of honorable ambition, which is the breath of their 
 life, soon become corrupt and decay. And what can 
 we say, if the conviction is irresistibly forced upon 
 us, that the dead level of the community, so far from 
 implying the general elevation of the masses, makes 
 only too manifest the unnatural depression of those, 
 who should be the examples and guides of the whole 
 their conformity to a degraded standard and com-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 59 
 
 pliant submission to the base requirements of the 
 crowd. 
 
 As society becomes widened and more thoroughly 
 intermingled, under free institutions, there will be 
 found, I fear, a natural tendency to deterioration. 
 The apparently multiplied and diversified objects of 
 life dazzle the imagination of the inexperienced, and 
 draw them out of themselves, and away from the 
 sense of personal responsibility, into the whirling vor 
 tex of affairs. The ordinary pursuits of mankind, in 
 great communities, are often in their nature little 
 more than formal and superficial. It is only strong 
 minds, under such circumstances, which will insist 
 upon self-cultivation. Without self-culture, there can 
 be little depth of character, and without this, society 
 soon runs to folly, madness, and dissolution. In a 
 more primitive condition of civilized life, the mind is 
 thrown more directly upon its own resources the 
 character is more thoroughly formed upon the action 
 of its natural qualities, and is less warped by daily 
 submission to a criterion of opinion, subject to a hun 
 dred thousand uncertain influences and then, if its 
 purposes be good, the man becomes, if not a hero, a 
 statesman, or a sage, at least, in his own degree, a 
 nobler manifestation of his kind. And so, too, great 
 occasions call out great traits. Undoubtedly, war, 
 with all its horrors and woes, often unfolds the 
 noblest, as well as the strongest qualities courage,
 
 60 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 honor, hardihood, generosity, self-sac.rificc, in man, 
 the " Ride of the Six Hundred " the intrepid reso 
 lution of Buena Vista, the rustic heroism of Bunker 
 Hill in woman, pity, sympathy and a channel wide 
 enough for the unchecked current of all her gushing 
 emotions she becomes the very genius of patriotism, 
 of a nobler fortitude, a diviner charity, a sublimer 
 love ; and we learn to come up to the sentiment of 
 that " On the shield or with it," of the Spartan 
 mother, to muse upon the hardly half-told devotion 
 of the women of the Revolution to father, brother, 
 lover, pledged to the embattled service of their coun 
 try, or to glow at the story of those angelic minis 
 trations, which have forever blended the idea of relief 
 to the wounded soldier with the name of the sweetest 
 and most piteous songster of the skies. 
 
 Certainly, I have not the presumption to imagine, 
 that the views of society in New England, which my 
 own means of observation and reflection have enabled 
 me to suggest, may not be justly subject to modifica 
 tion and correction by the judgment of others. But 
 I cannot help believing, that the idea now so preva 
 lent, that we are being drawn steadily forward in the 
 current of an indefinite progress, is unfounded, as a 
 present fact, even if it be not in general inconsistent 
 with the nature and capacity of man, and therefore, 
 dangerous, in proportion as it is illusory and falla 
 cious. Especially must this be so, if the theory imply
 
 THREE ERAS OP NEW ENGLAND. 61 
 
 any confidence in the advancement of society, which 
 is not absolutely based upon the conscious self-culti 
 vation and responsible moral accountability of its 
 individual members. Logically speaking, society can 
 be in its best estate, only when every individual mem 
 ber of it is performing his own private and public 
 duties, according to his own best means and abilities. 
 Nor will the general good be promoted by compound 
 ing for this personal effort, with any loose confidence 
 in a progress, of which we know not the object, the 
 instruments, or the end. 
 
 Nor am I willing to subject myself to the misap 
 prehension of presenting a portrayal of the character 
 and tendencies of New England, to its disadvantage, 
 in any other light than by comparison with itself. 
 Whatever opinions I may have been compelled to 
 form in regard to its defects, and making due allow 
 ance for all its shortcomings and errors, especially 
 those of a speculative nature, I cannot but reflect, 
 with pride and pleasure, that there is no state or 
 country in the world, where a man is less liable to 
 molestation for his opinions, which are thus, as it 
 seems to me, most likely to work out their own even 
 tual sanction or condemnation, or, where he may 
 live in such general freedom and safety. I take the 
 tone of society in New England, however inferior it 
 may be to that of the superior classes, where they are 
 most cultivated and refined in Europe or America, to
 
 02 THREE EEAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 be yet superior to that of any other population, spread 
 over a region so extensive, and I choose this stand 
 ard, therefore, as the basis of such speculations as 
 have occurred to me, in the pursuit of this subject. 
 
 It is for the sake of these considerations, that, con 
 ceiving the population of New England to be the best 
 criterion I can select, regarding it in all its aspects, 
 without prejudice or favor, it could be hardly too 
 much deplored, should any apparent tendency be 
 exhibited by it to fall away from its ancient high 
 estate. Especially, would it be a subject of profound 
 regret, to see a reckless public sentiment taking the 
 place of whatever true and sound principle gave its 
 former character a superior stability and weight, and 
 a correspondent reputation, upon any just view of 
 the condition of man as an intellectual, moral and 
 accountable being. I or it was, unquestionably, the 
 still effective working of the great qualities and char 
 acteristics of the founders of New England, which 
 brought out those remarkable traits, developed during 
 the period, which it was my purpose to consider as 
 its heroic age, running through the old French war, 
 and presenting, long subsequently to the Revolution, 
 as worthy a people, influenced and controlled by as 
 numerous a body of able and noble leaders, as was 
 ever seen, in any age of the world. 
 
 Perhaps, the very worst thing which could happen 
 to society, in its immediate results, is, to be thor-
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 63 
 
 oughly shaken together and settled down to the com 
 bined pursuit of the inferior objects of life. "What 
 the eventual consequences might prove, Providence 
 only knows. For, by this process, good and evil are 
 inextricably mingled together, and the lightest ma 
 terial is sure to rise to the top. And, under the 
 more ordinary circumstances of life, it is the natural 
 tendency of the minds of men to become belittled, or 
 otherwise, according as the affairs upon which they 
 are individually and exclusively set, are of a grander 
 or a meaner stamp. The immortal mind struggles 
 for the mastery ; but thought becomes scattered and 
 confused beyond the possibility of concentration, and 
 men thus lose their hold of those great principles of 
 things, upon which all their present and future inter 
 ests are dependent. Then it is, that they require 
 great crises in affairs and the storms of the soul, to 
 stir them to their depths and bring them back to the 
 truth. For then, ability is tested, character is weighed, 
 truth is carefully considered, and opinion spread 
 abroad, if not logically sound, returns upon the in 
 ventor, instead of going forth, like the down of the 
 thistle, shall I say, as now ? and no man knows, or 
 cares what may become of it. Then, too, men become 
 great, who, in the consciousness of their own weak 
 ness, find the elements, the motives and the means of 
 advancing strength. Then, too, society, thus led, 
 can make just progress, because its leaders are really,
 
 64 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 in their aims and principles and desires, above and 
 beyond the spirit of their age. 
 
 It is in vain to ask, what is to be the end of Prog 
 ress? But I know that society, which cannot take 
 care of itself, and cannot be properly taken care of, 
 except by those whom it educates for that purpose, 
 can only be wisely directed to any beneficial end by 
 wise and good and true men, such as every intelli 
 gent community should inexorably demand its lead 
 ing spirits to be. Of such a stamp, with all their 
 faults and failings, was the ancestral stock of New 
 England, and I need not offer evidence to convince 
 you, that the basis of that character, upon which the 
 reputation of New England really rests, was formed 
 long, very long before our own day. And, although 
 there are inevitable points of difference between the 
 condition of our ancestors and our own, I know that 
 no salutary advancement can be made, in whatever 
 constitutes the substantial welfare of life, without the 
 better personal qualities which they exhibited, with 
 out the honest motives which prompted their con 
 duct, without the learning which they honored and 
 the virtues which they reverenced. But, amidst all 
 our growing faults, I believe there are still the ele 
 ments of great excellence left in New England. I 
 am no believer in general intellectual degeneracy. 
 The unextinguished mind of man, through every age
 
 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 65 
 
 of darkness, has vindicated his immortal capacity and 
 been the manifest witness of God. 
 
 The future is not ours, but I can conceive of 
 causes, which would tend to concentrate and revive, 
 once more, what I hope is the essentially sound mind 
 of New England. And we might then have a progress, 
 fitted to effect a reformation, if possible, not to be 
 reformed, to fix high principle, to develop the fac 
 ulties, to raise the character, and relieve it of 
 frivolities and formalities and insincerities to draw 
 the intellectual being away from erroneous and un 
 profitable and degrading channels of investigation, 
 where only it creeps which ought to soar to allure 
 it to philosophy, rather than speculation to induce 
 it to rise on wings of beaming light, which remain 
 folded or unfolded as we choose, above the surface of 
 things, and so gain impulse to go sounding down to 
 the depths of thought, the elements of government, 
 the foundation of morals, the reasonableness of re 
 ligion, to turn it away from the spirit of chicanery 
 and the miserable self-delusions, which infect modern 
 society so that it may buy the truth and sell it 
 not, that is, hold it in possession, like an heir-loom 
 of glory, and part with it at no price, to bring the 
 mind safely back from its empty wanderings into in- 
 explorable space, and teach the man to devote his 
 powers to that world of duties and wants, follies and 
 
 errors, temptations and trials, the microcosm of him- 
 6*
 
 66 THREE ERAS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 self. And we, the descendants of the Pilgrims and 
 the Puritans, who, according to their light, had views 
 of extraordinary clearness, and yet perhaps saw not 
 all things, let us devoutly cherish our trust in the 
 prevalence of such glorious progress as this, promoted 
 by sincere hearts and perpetuated in endless peace, 
 the very name of which, one of the chiefest orators 
 of antiquity pronounced so sweet Et nomen pads 
 dulce et ipsa res salutarls. 
 
 And yet, if Providence shall have determined oth 
 erwise, still let us trust that, in some fiercer domes 
 tic struggle, it may be, to which all states and nations 
 are only too subject, or in some fairer exercise of con 
 flict with a foreign foe, we should find our honored 
 and beloved New England brought back more stead 
 ily to the just balance of her inherent character, 
 yet having her divines, her orators, her scholars, her 
 soldiers, her patriots, her citizens like those of old, 
 and, in the glowing language of our lyric poet, whose 
 laurels, wreathed upon his brow by your own noble 
 State, are still the inherited honors of her soil, yet 
 counting, amongst her choicest jewels, the true suc 
 cessors of those, to whose memory the mind instinc 
 tively reverts, in every hour of darkness and public 
 perplexity 
 
 Men, who swayed senates with a statesman s soul, 
 And looked on armies with a leader s eye.
 
 THE USES AND ABUSES 
 
 THE DAILY PRESS 
 
 THE subject of my Lecture this evening, will be 
 " The Daily Press." An extraordinary theme of dis 
 cussion, perhaps you will say, this general object of 
 daily interest, common as the air, the companion of 
 our firesides and of all our resorts of business or 
 pleasure ; suited, in its multiplied manifestations, to 
 our tastes, our habits, our pursuits, our recreations, 
 in fact, to all the diversified elements of the human 
 mind, and become, at last, an absolute necessity of 
 life. I am not aware, that anybody before has made 
 this miscellaneous text-book of popular literature the 
 topic of a philosophical lecture. But I think you will 
 see, that the very universality, which it claims, chal 
 lenges your closest consideration of its titles to regard ; 
 and that an honest investigation of the characteristics, 
 the merits, the deficiencies, the powers, and the obli 
 gations of anything, upon which you are really so 
 dependent, ought to afford the materials and the mo 
 tives for your profouudest interest.
 
 68 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 "We read newspapers, it is true," you reply, 
 " they serve the momentary purpose of their produc 
 tion and circulation ; they bear us along with them, 
 abreast of the rapid flood of passing events ; they give 
 us our morning subjects of discussion, and wipe the 
 misty cobwebs of dreamland out of our opening eyes ; 
 they afford the materials of our evening solace, and 
 we drop them with our final yawn, as we sink into 
 the embraces of nature s sweet restorer ; we glance 
 through their columns, for casual and temporary 
 amusement, really, we seldom discover anything, 
 which dwells very seriously upon the mind ; what 
 they contain makes, after all, but a very slight im 
 pression ; in a moment, we should be at a loss to 
 recall anything which met our eyes ; we fling them 
 aside with indifference, though, in truth, we should 
 miss them absent, and who cares, afterwards, for an 
 old newspaper ?" 
 
 It is true, really, that there was nothing to-day, 
 to-morrow, perhaps, there will be something, to hear 
 or to tell, for these modern Athenians, always pursu 
 ing, often balked, but never turned aside, from their 
 anxious quest after some new thing. So far, in fact, 
 as you have acquired any information of serious and 
 personal interest, anything, which intimately con 
 cerns the chief ends and high-reaching capacities of 
 man s rational life and the perfection of his character, 
 the impression of successive days will prove, probably,
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 69 
 
 quite as evanescent. What the reader has actually 
 learned, towards the advancement of his intellectual 
 and moral nature, if, in these days of wandering 
 thought and confused motive, such an object is yet 
 within the range of telescopic vision his acquisitions, 
 in this behalf, may have been little better than a 
 blank. He may have passed, in daily review, per 
 haps, successive and repeating columns of these cir- 
 cumambulatory oracles of modern society, to the 
 framing and unfolding of whose winged responses 
 went so many busy fingers and still busier brains 
 and as he turns aside from the inspection, what dis 
 tinct idea remains in his mind, of that rapid succes 
 sion of incident, and of those intermittent flashes of 
 speculation, which played rather upon his eye, than 
 ranged themselves intelligibly before his understand 
 ing ? The interest was transient, and it is gone. 
 The gathered results of his eager enquiry after knowl 
 edge, where are they to-morrow ? "Where are they to 
 day? The listless hour, which they occupied, took 
 with it its vague impressions, 
 
 Making them momentary as a sound, 
 Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, 
 Brief as the lightning in the collied night, 
 That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, 
 And ere a man hath power to say, Behold ! 
 The jaws of darkness do devour it up. 
 
 Were the newspaper really old, it might indeed bo 
 estimated at sterling value. What a host of reviving
 
 70 THE USES AND ABUSES OP 
 
 memories the aspect of one of those dingy sheets of 
 another day inspires ! No effort of merely human in 
 tellect could now avail to keep pace with the ever- 
 moving and constantly intermingling squadrons of 
 the modern press, as, file by file, they w T hcel into the 
 field of sight and march with the ever moving hours ! 
 But, what touching, what affecting, what pictorial as 
 sociations cluster around their periodical advent, when 
 dailies were not, but the primitive weekly sheet, with 
 its well-considered summary of life s distant incident, 
 and its homebred speculations, colored with the sober 
 hues of thoughtful interest, made its eventful evening 
 appearance, at the secluded village or the provincial 
 town ! 
 
 He comes, the herald of a noisy world, 
 
 News from all nations lumbering at his back 
 
 The hardy postman, perhaps, has brought it through 
 drifting snows, or the stony street has echoed to the 
 wheels of the long-expected stage-coach, and now, 
 the welcome budget is just at hand ! Close fast the 
 shutters, and let the eager circle around the cheerful 
 fireside, shut out, for a long, long week, from much 
 intercourse with the remoter world, listen to all, which 
 has stirred the hearts and affected the minds, and 
 moulded the fortunes of men and cities, within the 
 round of our domestic or national sympathies, or, 
 dwell, with all the vivid instincts of a wondering 
 imagination, upon distant news, which, for weary
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 71 
 
 months, lias been laboring towards us from farthest 
 Ind,- 
 
 Damascus, or Morocco, or Trebizond. 
 
 It is possible, that the antiquated perceptions of our 
 predecessors may have been occupied, in the mean 
 time, with reading quite as profitable and instructive ; 
 that, during the intervals of this intellectual commu 
 nication with the outer world, they may have found 
 employment for the mind, calculated to enchain and 
 reward the attention, that what they read or re 
 flected informed the judgment, instead of scattering 
 the thoughts, satisfying the mind w r ith a glance, flit 
 ting over its unstamped surface, like successive shad 
 ows, neither imparting strength, nor educing its own 
 energies ; and so rendering it really wavering and in 
 efficient in action, and incapable of the nobler and 
 hardier elements of its condition and being. 
 
 And what would we not gladly give for some old 
 newspapers, which suggest themselves, as amongst 
 the possibilities of the imagination ? Bring us in, if 
 you please, a file of the " Crusader." I should like 
 to look over again the telegraphic report of that stir 
 ring sermon of Peter the Hermit, which raised Europe 
 out of itself, and sent the flower and chivalry and the 
 yeomanry of Christendom, for a cause of the heart, if 
 not of the understanding, to do battle and perish, 
 piously and thankfully, on the burning plains of 
 Syria. Let us read, as they transpired, the events of
 
 72 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 that pictured narrative, which has intermingled with 
 the tissue of the world s history one broidered filament 
 of golden romance, lasting as its annals, and, now 
 and forever, twining itself inextricably around all the 
 social relations of civilized life. What price would be 
 too dear, for an " Independent Press," for example, 
 or the " Daily Clarion," of the period, proclaiming, in 
 trumpet-tones, its denunciations of that brutal Henry 
 of England, who made a shambles of his loves, or of 
 his still bloodier daughter, who slew the innocent for 
 their faith ? Or, shall we call for the Galignani, of 
 three hundred years ago, and muse upon minuter 
 details than glow, even on Sully s fascinating page, of 
 the early adversities and heroic struggles of that other 
 Henry, the conqueror of Ivry and bestower of the 
 Edict of Nantes of adversities borne like a man 
 who was more than a king, of his final triumph, 
 of his heavy doom, " fatal to liberty," fatal to all 
 which that age could grant to the progress of free 
 dom. Let our hearts glow, as we welcome, over the 
 misty mountain s top, the dawnings of a brighter day, 
 foretokening a purer faith. Let our zeal kindle to 
 resist the machinations of the Medici, that bigoted 
 and cruel race. How can we help a vow of ven 
 geance, as we read of murder dabbling the silver 
 hairs of the good Coligni with his blood ? Let us 
 recall the massacre of St. Bartholomew, in the guilt 
 of its instant horrors, unparalleled, says the French
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 73 
 
 historian, by equal barbarity, in all antiquity or the 
 annals of the world. We have heard their tale, let 
 us speed, on the errand of mercy, to the inmost 
 fastnesses and retreats of the persecuted Vaudois, or 
 cheer the indignant message of stout, magnanimous 
 Cromwell, remonstrating, with words that spoke of 
 flame and thunder and the sword, against Supersti 
 tion, guilty of the blood of 
 
 slaughtered saints, whose bones 
 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ! 
 
 Or, what should we say to the " Puritan Recorder" 
 of 1620, faintly portraying the inexpressible emotions 
 of Carver and Bradford and Brewster and Standish 
 and the rest, as they launched upon the scarcely 
 traversed ocean of their pilgrimage, to brave the com 
 mingled yet conflicting elements of the coming winter 
 and the unknown sea, and left, with lingering looks, 
 the home of their human affections, that they might 
 peacefully commune, in the exile of a savage land, 
 with the dearer homo of their souls ! 
 
 And yet, who would care to sec all the glittering 
 blazonry of human history sobered down by the 
 homely daub of utilitarian philosophy, or reduced 
 within the petty compass of a pen-and-ink sketch ? 
 Who would wish, that all the sacred and tender mys 
 teries of life should be accurately sounded and sur 
 veyed and mapped out, before his eyes, and every 
 7
 
 74 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 gleaming headland, on the vast ocean of time, taken in 
 its bearings and distances, with the clear and sober cer 
 tainty of geometrical analysis ? I rejoice that there is 
 yet something uncertain, secret, mysterious, indefina 
 ble, grand altogether out of the scope of the peering 
 researches and shallow philosophy and hasty, unreflect 
 ing speculations of the day. I rejoice that there are yet 
 left gaps and fissures, along the royal highway of Time, 
 beyond all engineering art to level and subdue, 
 which only Imagination can fill up with her own deep 
 ening colors, and people with forms and shapes and 
 fancies of her own legitimate creation. It may be 
 the aim and hope of the Present, to bring down much 
 which constitutes the grace, and grandeur and beauty 
 of the world to its own criterion of well-investigated 
 and well-defined mediocrity. But behind us, in the 
 Past, arc the mountains which cannot be touched. 
 Between them lie sweet, mysterious valleys, practica 
 ble only to their enfranchised denizens, and never to 
 be explored by the impertinent aggressions of modern 
 curiosity, within the recesses of whose shadowy for 
 ests forever sits the nymph, yet prophetic by the side 
 of her whispering fountain, and the sage, whose les 
 sons of the past are now and ever will be the irrever 
 sible wisdom -of life. 
 
 But what shall we say to this grasping Present? 
 Shall it lift the veil, which has hitherto shrouded the 
 decencies and imparted some wholesome awe to the
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 75 
 
 proprieties and dignities of nature ? Shall it creep 
 forward and forward, with noiseless step, until it be 
 comes exaggerated into a power multiform, inquisi 
 tive and irresponsible, entering, like the plague of 
 Egypt, into our bed-chambers and our ovens and 
 kneading-troughs, before whose ominous advances 
 modesty shrinks away and virtue is appalled, and 
 under whose cold, scrutinizing eye vice is publicly 
 paraded, until the flush of detected shame fades from 
 her callous cheek, and our half-formed aspirations 
 for good and the cherished affections of our lives, and 
 the thoughts we would not reveal to a brother and 
 whisper in no audible tones to our own hearts,- shall 
 they be remorselessly rifled from our breasts and 
 flung, sensitive and palpitating, into the common 
 mart, to be trampled over by the inconsiderate and 
 jeering throng ? 
 
 Do I object, therefore, to the freedom of the press ? 
 I protest only against its mismanagement. If it has 
 its value, it has also its defects. I object only to its 
 license, its incompetence, its shallowness, its imperti 
 nence, its venality. I urge only the prevalence of 
 those evils, in the reformation of which, those who 
 control it and those who are controlled by it have a 
 common cause. It is the idlest cant in the world, 
 this talk which it sometimes employs, about shackling 
 its freedom. It can bo restrained, in this land of 
 liberty, only by its own self-respect and a decent ob-
 
 7G THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 servance of the settled sentiments of mankind. I 
 know of no reason, why freedom of opinion should not 
 be indulged, in a fair discussion of its claims to public 
 confidence and regard. The only real danger to the 
 press is, that it will grow too autocratic in the excess 
 of its own pampered liberty. I know how little one 
 earnest tongue can do against the incessant murmurs 
 of its ten thousand mouths. But I am conscious of 
 no vague dread of a power, not always wisely and 
 justly administered ; and besides, I believe that the 
 ablest and soundest conductors of the press are only 
 too conscious of such deficiencies and necessities, as I 
 might feol it within my province to point out. 
 
 One of the early governors of Virginia once stated 
 the fact, as a matter of exultation, that there was not 
 a newspaper in the entire territory under his adminis 
 tration ; and an eminent member of Congress, from 
 the same State, more recently took occasion to thank 
 God, that nothing of the sort could be found in his 
 district. He had observed, perhaps, how potent an 
 instrument it had become for good, or for evil, irre 
 sistible in its combined energies, when it maintained 
 the right, and before which no individual strength, or 
 virtue or genius could stand, when it chose, or stum 
 bled upon the wrong. His mind, undoubtedly, had 
 looked upon the subject only in its least flattering 
 aspects. I fear I too shall have to take some unfavor 
 able views of the present administration of the press ;
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 77 
 
 but, in speaking of its evils, my purpose is only to see 
 how it may best be made instrumental to the public 
 good and its own. I can conceive of a state of public 
 sentiment, which would demand a higher tone, and 
 would reward the application of nobler powers, than 
 are usually bestowed upon the conduct of the jour 
 nals of the times. In a country like this, the Press, 
 more than its Legislatures, should be in the hands 
 of its most enlightened and worthiest citizens. In 
 stead of making it a mere record of passing events, 
 or a mere channel of time-serving speculations upon 
 trivial and temporary affairs, or a mere pander to 
 popular appetite, corrupting the public and corrupting 
 itself, would its conductors take into consideration 
 sometimes the object of raising, as well as merely en 
 tertaining the public mind, what a glorious field of 
 usefulness might be opened within the sphere of their 
 already incalculable influence ! Surely, I do not 
 mean to allege, that there are not newspapers, and 
 many, which are conducted with more or less refer 
 ence to a principle so generous and beneficent. But 
 who will deny, that there is a mighty swarm besides, 
 issued solely upon the selfish consideration of pecu 
 niary advantage, ready to tamper with any principle, 
 prompt to Ksten to any scandal, glad to sell mis 
 chief and abuse by the square, eager to bargain, 
 either to apply or withhold a venal praise ? Who, 
 that has examined this subject, must not sorrowfully 
 7*
 
 78 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 admit, that, instead of using their means of useful 
 ness to its appropriate end, they have tended, in many 
 ways, to the manifest corruption of the popular mind ? 
 That they have demeaned public sentiment, diluted 
 public taste, weakened public judgment ? And that, 
 amongst not the least of the evils, to which they have 
 subjected society, they have substituted themselves, 
 thus reduced in character and aim, for higher and 
 better sources of knowledge ; and have accustomed us 
 to rely upon the crude and flimsy and irresponsible 
 speculations of a veiled and, therefore, mysteriously 
 effective agency, for the old, sound, manly sense of 
 the individual citizen, self-dependent and, therefore, 
 self-reliant, who exercised himself in wholesome in 
 vestigation and reflection, and came to his honest and 
 satisfactory conclusions, by a process of hard thought ? 
 But who will take the trouble of thinking, when the 
 newspaper editor is paid, for doing this tedious busi 
 ness in his behalf ? And thus the man is taken away 
 from the exercise of his own powers ; he learns to 
 distrust a judgment, which he docs not use ; he be 
 comes the puppet of others, of perhaps, no higher 
 qualifications than himself, who play with his opin 
 ions, loosen the hold of his social and personal obliga 
 tions, gradually modify his thoughts, mould his sen 
 timents, form his character, leave him not a thinking, 
 but an artificial and a superficial man, and too often 
 convert him into one of those feeble and wavering
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 79 
 
 creatures, common enough in our day, who are swayed 
 by the weakest impulses and are insensible of the 
 highest duties of manhood and citizenship and religion 
 itself. 
 
 If there be any soundness in the views thus indi 
 cated, and if correspondent changes only too obvious 
 have come over the face of society, I am compelled to 
 believe, that the main cause will be found, in the good- 
 natured sufferance of the public towards the least 
 respectable portion of the daily press. And, for my 
 own part, I hesitate not to avow, that I would sooner 
 rely, for a sound judgment upon men and manners 
 and things, on the plain, thinking, well-schooled 
 philosopher of nature, amidst her woods and fields, in 
 the dimmest valley of the land, where the morning 
 radiance of the daily press scarcely sheds its perva 
 ding beams, but another gospel, of benigner light, 
 opens and instructs his understanding, than upon 
 the opinions of many of those, with whom you and I 
 are most conversant in the common walks and inter 
 course of our lives, the busiest men in the active 
 pursuits of the world, who read all the newspapers, 
 that intermingled mass of eager, moving, wavering, 
 puzzled beings, called society of to-day, men of unset 
 tled thoughts and indecisive minds, who live in a 
 blaze which serves only to dazzle and bewilder them, 
 who learn little enough at any fountain-head of true 
 and sober knowledge, but drink intoxicating draughts
 
 80 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 from every shallow rivulet, which trickles or stagnates 
 on their way. 
 
 I know that all this may seem to some little better 
 than rank heresy to the spirit of the age and its main 
 instruments of thought. But I claim, that the great 
 body of the newspapers of the day, as they are gener 
 ally conducted, do not fairly meet the assumed de 
 mands and necessities of the times. If they are to 
 be read as mere matters of amusement, and to occupy 
 only our idle hours, if such hours are to be found, or 
 ought to be found, in this modern busy, bustling 
 world of ever-existing and constantly-growing respon 
 sibilities, even here there is a high duty devolving 
 upon them, to restrain their present tendency, wil 
 fully or carelessly to mislead and debauch the public 
 mind. If the age be really unsound and insincere, 
 given over to frivolity, devout only in its material 
 longings, impatient of truth, listening only with 
 eager interest to preachers of smooth things, then, 
 nothing can be so effectual, as a corrupt and subser 
 vient press, to foster its unspiritual habitudes, and to 
 pander profitably to appetites, which grow by what 
 they feed on, until the unwholesome leaven has 
 finally worked itself into all the constituent elements 
 of the incorporated mass, and cause and conse 
 quence begin to act interchangeably upon each other, 
 and the things which once were real become to us 
 little better than shadows, and those which we once
 
 THE DAILY PEESS. 81 
 
 sought for our blessings are now our bane, and the 
 names of former glory are but a mockery and a re 
 proach, and virtue, truth, honor and religion, the 
 dignity of learning and the incitements to manly 
 enterprise, the grace, the charm and the ornament 
 of life, the aims, the ends and the means of knowl 
 edge, all sink together into one common abyss of 
 degradation, ignominy and ruin. 
 
 But, on the other hand, let us soberly inquire if 
 the spiritual hopes of mankind, like doves flocking to 
 their windows, are now entitled to rest their weary 
 feet upon the aspiring edifice of human improve 
 ment ? Have the new builders of this temple of 
 Progress presented it to our eyes, truly a stable, 
 magnificent and imposing sanctuary, for the refuge 
 of burdened and anxious and despondent thought, fit 
 to be the elect cathedral of a true spiritual worship ? 
 In clearing away the accumulated rubbish of ages, 
 from every vaulted crypt, weakening nothing in the 
 solid foundation of the admirable structure, have 
 they brought only more prominently forward the 
 venerable tombs of the good and great, who lie be 
 neath, where alternate light and shadow touch them 
 with an intermingling harmony of glory and gloom ? 
 Will what they have affixed superincumbent, upon 
 the uprising and stately pile, be likely to prove only 
 a buttress of strength, so that every fretted pinnacle 
 and stalwart tower and soaring spire, shall seem
 
 82 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 growing day by day, only nearer to the skies ? Are 
 we sure that all within the hallowed precincts is de 
 cent and fraternal and just and wise, as truly becomes 
 the complete! framework of the social system of an 
 advancing age ? Is it certain that no trivial, faith 
 less and mocking spirit pervades the assembled mul 
 titude, desecrating the temple, while it enfeebles and 
 degrades their own hearts ? Docs no self-seeking 
 and subservient idol of an insane worship, fashioned 
 by men s hands, clothed with vanity and crowned 
 with lies, sit grinning an empty approval, behind the 
 altar of their devotion ? In a word, does the sub 
 stantial progress of life consist, not in the mere exter 
 nals of society, not in those walls and ships and 
 houses, which the old Greek poet, three thousand 
 years ago, affirmed could never constitute a state, 
 looking deeply into the capacities and necessities of 
 our nature, and observing those true signs of mental 
 and moral development, which do constitute great 
 ness or its opposite ? 
 
 For, if the true foundation of Progress be not laid 
 in whatever makes up the grand sum of substantial 
 superiority in man, and shows him a nobler, higher, 
 better and happier being than before, more able, 
 intellectually, so far as intellect avails, to demon 
 strate the great problem of life, more earnest, 
 morally, as w r ell he may be, to apply the means of 
 existence to their legitimate ends, if truth, that first
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 83 
 
 indispensable element of all substantial excellence, 
 has failed to become the rule of life, and the law of 
 its ordinary action, and justice has not, at length, 
 been able to remove that obnoxious and blinding 
 fillet from before her eyes, and not yet merit wins 
 its due reward, nor goodness seems as lovely as it is, 
 if these, and other correspondent indications, be 
 not amongst the observable signs of a (so-called) ad 
 vancing age, how can we style that progress, which 
 exhibits only a more striking failure to conform to 
 the very fundamental principles of our being ? For 
 if society be not thus seen moving if not with one 
 spontaneous and general consent of action, yet, its 
 effective battalions in advance, its music and banners 
 to the front, its sentinels falling, one by one, into 
 rank, and gradually drawing every distant outpost 
 into the line of the forward march, together with the 
 whole promiscuous multitude of the hangers-on and 
 hangers-back of the upbreaking and victorious camp, 
 if society be not thus visibly moving towards the 
 outer boundary (if boundary be conceded) of the 
 intellectual and moral advancement of the race, 
 then, I beg to suggest the conclusion, as one of in 
 stant and unavoidable application, that the scouts, 
 skirmishers and pioneers, who are to clear the way of 
 conquest, should themselves be more true, that the 
 newspaper press itself, the common and necessary in 
 strument adapted to promote the public improvement
 
 84 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 and its information, upon points entering into all the 
 vast and indefinable relations of public and private 
 life, should become more consonant with the hopes of 
 the leading minds of the nation, and should afford 
 such instruction upon our weightiest interests, as 
 every rational anticipation of a higher condition of 
 social intellect and moral sensibility so imperatively 
 demands. 
 
 And it may be, after all, that no ungenerous sketch 
 of the elements of our social characteristics may find 
 some justification in a liberal estimate of the aspects 
 and tendencies of the times. It does not necessarily 
 follow, I hope, that knowledge grows weaker, as it 
 becomes diffused. I sincerely trust, that the limited 
 degree of general enlightenment, which the great 
 mass of mankind is actually able to compass, not 
 certainly complete, or perfect, or universal, but pre- 
 clusively confined very much within the range of the 
 ordinary necessities and powers and the absolute 
 requirements of life, should tend rather to lower 
 than to raise the standard of human knowledge, and 
 should operate to the actual discouragement of our 
 higher faculties and capacities of attainment, by the 
 incessant, multiplied and combined competitions of 
 those of an inferior grade. It may not be a neces 
 sary result of the very constitution of our nature, 
 that the broader diffusion of a certain generally- 
 attainable amount of knowledge, more or less definite
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 85 
 
 or profound, should have the effect to render the 
 absolute and positive fund of human information and 
 learning and thought, all to be acquired and culti 
 vated and wrought out only by assiduous labor, or 
 grasped only by exalted genius, severally in the untir 
 ing application of his own specific faculties, by the 
 statesman, the scholar, the philosopher and the poet, 
 less really available to the substantial elevation of the 
 species, of man as man, each having a common 
 interest in the sum of good, and each catching some 
 reflected glow from the constellated firmament of his 
 brotherhood, who have " rejoined the stars," and 
 that a result so unhappy should be brought about by 
 a constant and frittering process of intellectual amal 
 gamation, so that the relations become really con 
 fused between the half-thinker or shallow thinker, and 
 the mind gifted and inspired to teach, and no longer 
 one star seems to differ from another star in bright 
 ness ; but the misty orb, on the outer verge of the 
 distant horizon, reveals its twinkling beams, as benefi 
 cently and resplendently beautiful, to the common 
 apprehension, as the glory of the upper host of heaven, 
 which magnificently shine, and shine, and forever 
 shine on, and charlatans, sciolists and smatterers 
 obtain the mastery of affairs, and vain and empty 
 pretension becomes the rule and standard of life ; and 
 they, who yield a bewildered deference to this de 
 graded and degrading dominion, forfeit at once the 
 8
 
 86 THE USES AND ABUSES OP 
 
 motive, the reason and the example for the attain 
 ment of superior excellence. But the theory I would 
 suggest gains some force from the proposition, that, 
 since correct habits and aptitudes of thought, upon 
 speculative subjects always, and upon matters of 
 practice, as a general rule, can be formed only by the 
 few, who have opportunities, instead of the many, 
 who are immersed in their individual affairs, and, 
 since sound and accurate thinkers are as rare as 
 great men, and the list of those whom we could name, 
 amongst the perfectly reliable masters of the mind 
 and its attributes, woiild be found exceedingly limited 
 in our own day, it must be, that the multitudes of 
 distinguished personages, whom the newspaper press 
 is continually offering to our admiration, are in fact 
 great, rather as multiples of each other, and only by 
 the combined force of their aggregated powers, than 
 upon the basis of any individual claim to the general 
 deference and respect. 
 
 And when we reflect upon the extraordinary devel 
 opment, energy and brilliancy of the human intellect, 
 as displayed in the pursuits of science, philosophy, lit 
 erature and arms, during the first half of the present 
 century, to go no further back, and consider that 
 scarcely a preeminent living teacher of the human 
 mind, so far as I am aware, can be pointed out, to 
 meet the present wants and aspirations of an advanc 
 ing age, and to save it from very trivial tendencies
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 87 
 
 and many miserable delusions, degrading enough for 
 a period absolutely deficient in newspapers, when, 
 certainly, within the circle of literature, meaning no 
 derogation to the merits of two or three eminent 
 names, there is no great poet or novelist, of the order 
 known to that earlier era, to offer us, and so to be 
 accepted, as if of divine inspiration, the purer and 
 sweeter and nobler pictures of life, to animate us 
 with exalted sentiments, as if an oracle had breathed 
 its spirit to mingle with the inner longings of the 
 soul, to stimulate and enchant the fancy, and to fill 
 the imagination with charming pictures, which al 
 most satisfied and controlled its capacities, and glitr 
 tering as the frost-work on every pendent bough, 
 which the sunlight of this brilliant wintry day has in 
 vested with a more than fairy lustre, throughout the 
 ample area of Nature s magnificent temple ; when 
 we conceive, that an enduring and desperate warfare, 
 convulsing the mightiest states of Europe, reversing 
 the speculative doctrines of centuries, and the histori 
 cal, traditional and legendary prejudices of nations, 
 and involving, probably, the future destinies of Chris 
 tendom, that this warfare has awakened the dormant 
 faculties of no leading statesman, biding his time and 
 fitted for the time, and, strangest of all, has brought 
 forward 110 unquestionable hero, no recognized king 
 of men, to the gaze of an expectant and admiring 
 world, it must give us some pause, as to the unset-
 
 88 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 tied problem, of the still advancing progress, or the 
 receding intellectual pretensions of the age. 
 
 In the exercise of such judgment as I am able to 
 apply to this knotty question, I am compelled to be 
 lieve, upon evidence, that there is in fact some ap 
 parent deficiency, the just ascertainment of which 
 ought to stagger the overweening intellectual esti 
 mate, at present so prevalent amongst us. But is 
 there not something, after all, in the theory I have 
 imperfectly proposed, and is not the newspaper press 
 really responsible for a social mischief, seriously de 
 manding the public attention and claiming its own 
 reformation, at the hazard of public distrust, involving 
 its eventual contempt ? Ah, if I am to pay a devout 
 worship, I ask no idols of wood or stone, or things, 
 which I can trample upon and destroy, but give me 
 gods ! Give me something, which in the conscious 
 ness of my own nature I acknowledge as higher than 
 I, and to which I tender the supreme homage of 
 my soul, because of its inherent essence of superior 
 virtue ! My mind revolts from the adoration of things 
 of brass and clay ! And is not this, too often the 
 senseless and fruitless worship, which this self-consti 
 tuted image-maker of the Press, day by day, sets up ? 
 
 If, as the poet says (and well the poet knew) excel 
 lence is the eternal food of envy, this may account suf 
 ficiently for that spirit of detraction, which too often 
 leads the Press flippantly to arraign and improvidently
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 89 
 
 to misjudge men of more than common mark, to 
 undervalue their abilities, to slur over their virtues, 
 to gloat at the discovery of their failings, to molest 
 their lives and despoil even their graves of the priv 
 ileged sanctity of repose. But, since true greatness 
 defies every ordeal, and we may, therefore, let this 
 pass, what shall we say to a practice still more vicious, 
 and hostile to whatever is sound and wholesome in 
 the constitution of society which, by no warrant, ex 
 cept that authoritative plural number, that sovereign 
 " We," which presupposes editors and kings to rep- 
 resent the voice of the people, which is the voice of 
 God, gives out delusive oracles, which have the 
 eventual influence to mislead, though they may seem 
 to find little immediate response in the popular 
 breast? For thus it is they arc so ready to lavish 
 printed praises upon those, who arc really unfitted for 
 public distinction ; to attribute superlative merit to 
 very ordinary men ; to make heroes and geniuses out 
 of very flimsy, commonplace material ; to create such 
 hosts of human wonders, that the order of nature is 
 reversed and exceptions become the marvels, to re 
 plenish the golden fountain of eloquence out of the 
 mouth of every petty politician, although profane 
 history, certainly, has sent us down but two pre 
 eminent names of the orators of all antiquity, and 
 their genius trained by the laborious efforts of a life, 
 fostering and developing nature, and one slight page
 
 90 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 might easily hold all who have come after them ; 
 and, though the list of the great poets of the world 
 scarcely gives one, for a century, during the period of 
 its reliable secular history, to claim the very harp- 
 strings of the master of all song, for every pretty flut 
 tering warbler, fitted perhaps to regale us with the 
 passing melodies of the hour, to set a thousand 
 scribbling men and women temporarily beside 
 
 the few, the immortal names, 
 
 Which were not born to die, 
 
 when those who owned the names, until they were 
 fairly dead in the body no medicinal fame often 
 thought of embalming, to laud private and common 
 virtues, and so insult society, as if these were actually 
 its anomalies and phenomena, to blazon charity, 
 whose modesty is her merit, and who is a virtue only 
 when her face is veiled, to descend, for the objects 
 of our exalted admiration into the daily round of our 
 ordinary pursuits, to constitute half our Dogberries 
 Solons and niilitia-men gods of war, and even to 
 personify in print Policeman X to flatter publicly, 
 for common duties properly performed, the well-dis 
 posed director of the train, the attentive clerk of the 
 steam-boat, the obliging assistant at the hotel, the dis 
 interested purveyor of the public feast, instead of a 
 meek and quiet spirit, to stir up another, which is 
 conventional, superficial, cockneyish, pert and bluster 
 ing, to foster idle vanity and small conceit, to
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 91 
 
 stimulate ill-founded ambitions, to create petty jeal 
 ousies, to engender mortifications and bad blood, 
 to stagger and discourage good sense, to injure un 
 pretending merit and genuine desert, which scorn to 
 employ the unworthy arts, of which they arc thus 
 indirectly the victims, to squander vapid eulogies, 
 which seek out and minister to, if they do not actually 
 create, a vitiated public sentiment, but never to dig 
 up concealed gold, laboriously and generously, and 
 hold it forth, for the worth of the pure metal, and chal 
 lenge for it its due value, to render, in a word, their 
 praise and their censure, which, if sparingly used, would 
 be and ought to be valuable, equally worthless to a 
 just mind, because reckless and ^discriminating, to 
 pervert the truth of nature, by the creation of a petty 
 standard of public estimation, and thus, to confute 
 and confound the genuine distinctions between excel 
 lence and inferiority, good and ill, upon which the 
 just balance of the whole economy of life, and all that 
 is worth a moment s thought, is solely dependent, 
 and so, to infect with fatal disorders the very heart 
 and soul of our ordinary being. And I cannot think 
 the picture has been too darkly colored, since it is 
 easy to see how rapidly society may be lowered by the 
 operation of such causes. I do not really believe, 
 that the human mind, in its inherent attributes and 
 characteristics, has absolutely dwindled in our day, as 
 the criterion of the newspapers might lead us to ap-
 
 92 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 prehcnd, but I do think, that a false and vicious 
 standard of things, rapidly taking precedence of the 
 true, and resulting, I fear, from a depreciated moral 
 sense, has tended very nmch to the obscurity of our 
 mental vision, -just as he, who goes abroad, under 
 the loveliness of the shining night, and holds a far 
 thing candle to his eyes, shall see nothing of the eter 
 nal blue above, or of the enduring lustre of the ever- 
 rolling stars. 
 
 From such a condition of things as I have attributed 
 to, perhaps, the most popular portion of the Press, to 
 gossip and scandal the step is easy, until little real 
 regard is paid, by newspapers of even much higher 
 pretensions, to that truth which is the life-blood of all 
 civilized society, or that decency which is its necessa 
 ry mantle. So that we live abroad, instead of at 
 home, which is the sole fountain-head of all reliable 
 virtue, and the privacy of life is converted into an 
 open spectacle, and details, in which our firesides, if 
 we respect them, can have no share, and malicious 
 discussions of character, such as no private assembly 
 of reputable men and women would countenance, are 
 daily presented in print, for the amusement and to 
 the peril of the injudicious and unthinking. And we 
 may justly fear, that the best-conducted portion of 
 the press is becoming only too careless in regard to 
 the responsibilities of publication, and, that, sep 
 arating and leaving off two of the important elements
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 93 
 
 in the apostle s triply-conjoined definition of charity, 
 of theirs it can only be said, and that in more senses 
 than one " It bclicveth all things." 
 
 But a newspaper, in order to be useful, or even to 
 retain the semblance of its wonted authority, must be 
 careful not to come down to the momentary and fluc 
 tuating impressions of the populace. In some sense, 
 if it have any value for its character, it is constituted 
 an arbiter and a judge between the Truth and its 
 constant liability to factious or interested popular 
 perversion. As a mere vehicle for the diffusion of 
 general intelligence, it should exercise a judgment 
 and forbearance, regulated by some just standard of 
 true public utility. It should present us only with 
 such articles of information, as it behoves the public 
 to know, not seeking merely to gratify a prurient 
 curiosity, but affording whatever may be valuable 
 and useful to men and women, who have serious 
 business in the world to perform, or who require to 
 be refreshed and invigorated by innocent amusement. 
 And, above all, it should make only those persons the 
 subjects of public comment, who are really public 
 property, such as candidates for office, or those who 
 come before the world voluntarily, as literary or pro 
 fessional men, who ought to expect to be properly 
 discussed, and a thorough investigation of whose 
 claims is the public right and enures to the general 
 benefit.
 
 94 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 Indeed, in a condition of society devoted so thor 
 oughly to this description of reading, as a substitute 
 for books, and which is fast taking the place of books 
 of any sterling value, the profession of an editor, 
 however lightly it is often undertaken, seems to me a 
 charge of very high responsibility. Certainly, in a 
 country of free institutions, the daily questions arising 
 in the science of politics, which, although a little 
 distorted in its practical operation, is but another 
 name for public morals, require the application of 
 abilities of no common order ; and, unless the trum 
 pet is to give an uncertain sound, demand a keenness 
 of susceptibility to the motives and obligations of 
 duty, to be found only in the complete organization 
 of the head and heart of a whole man. That he, who 
 undertakes to instruct others, should be himself a 
 person of sound education, I care not how acquired, 
 would be only a truism, if the theory were not so 
 frequently contradicted in practice. And if the mind 
 of him, who addresses us under so many interesting 
 aspects, shall have been substantially trained by the 
 reason, if not the rules of logic, if he has been for 
 tunate and diligent enough to have gathered up the 
 treasures of a broad general information, if he has 
 accustomed himself to the exercise of a rapid analyti 
 cal faculty, if he enjoy the blessings of stability of 
 purpose, conscientiousness, prudence, forethought and 
 forbearance, possess the rare ability to see a ques-
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 95 
 
 tion in all its relations, the sagacity to discover and 
 boldness enough to tell the wholesome truth, he 
 would then be such an editor, as we would gladly see 
 at the head of more of the newspapers, now dissemi 
 nated so widely over the surface of our common 
 country. Indeed, I know of nothing more refresh 
 ing, in our times, than to take up unexpectedly a 
 sterling newspaper, and such there are, which has 
 the ring of the true metal about it, neither conven 
 tional nor qualified, nor looking after momentary 
 applause, not appearing before our eyes, tricked out 
 in harlequin garments of opinion, patched over with 
 the shreds and tatters of real or supposed popular 
 prejudice, but cheering us with the honest senti 
 ments of one, who docs not forget he is a man, 
 though an editor, who looks over society with a just 
 purpose, seeing its wants, rebuking its errors, en 
 couraging its better impulses, not waiting to see 
 which way the current will eventually move, and so 
 holding back for a favorable moment to jump upon 
 the top of the flowing tide, under the weak fear of 
 losing some unsteady and often worthless patronage, 
 but meeting and taking the responsibility, really 
 digging for the truth, which is the great public con 
 cern, as for hid treasures, in the discharge of his 
 proper duties of investigation and reflection, really 
 leading, because he has thought, instead of following 
 the public mind, which thinks, too, but not always
 
 96 THE USES AND ABUSES OP 
 
 correctly upon its first impulse, and thus, upon a 
 substantial basis, meriting, and consequently, in one 
 satisfactory shape or another, winning his due re 
 ward. 
 
 I know well enough that there are newspapers of a 
 high and improving stamp amongst us. Perhaps, 
 the popular demand for those of a higher grade has 
 not yet fully warranted that general division of labor, 
 which collects the available talent of many, each in 
 his specific sphere of usefulness, for the instruction 
 and entertainment of the multitude, and thus renders 
 the journals of the old world so much superior to our 
 own. Certainly, no one person can be expected to 
 know everything. But, on the other hand, absolute 
 ignorance on the part of editors, in regard to the 
 common topics of intellectual society, is an offence, 
 culpable because implying presumption, and because 
 it is directly prejudicial to the cause of human im 
 provement. And, no doubt, the reader sometimes 
 thinks it a serious abuse, when the editors do not 
 seem to know how often a good story, or a good joke 
 has been produced before, and impute to the sailor 
 or the Hibernian of to-day jests and blunders, much 
 older than those found in the facetious, but some 
 what familiar writings of the late Mr. Miller, such 
 as the Greeks and Romans laughed at, many cen 
 turies ago, and which amused our boyhood, and 
 still more, when they bring forward the very com-
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 97 
 
 mon-places of literature, as if they were fresh contri 
 butions to the fund of good learning, treating us 
 over again, for new, with the high sentiment and 
 generous thought, sparkling like jewels on the golden 
 pages of the masters of mere English letters and phi 
 losophy, which they imagine they have thus dis 
 covered, though others have dug them out often and 
 long before, and so, by their mode of reproducing 
 other men s creations, not only rob them of their just 
 praise, but, thus checking invention, throw positive ob 
 stacles in the way of human progress and improvement. 
 But above all others, there is one field of discus 
 sion, upon which newspapers, now-a-days, have some 
 what arrogantly entered, in the labor of which they 
 have shown, to a marked degree, their own inef 
 ficiency in the ordinary arts of cultivation, and have 
 well nigh converted the fair domain of the republic 
 of letters into an unwholesome wilderness of worth 
 less and noxious weeds. I think they are responsible 
 for it, in an eminent degree, and the fact shows how 
 really disqualified newspaper editors often are for the 
 office of literary critics. I will give them the credit 
 of sometimes admitting, that they are not themselves 
 very well versed in such matters, and of pleading, 
 that the necessities of their position preclude them 
 from the proper consideration of subjects, so essential 
 to the welfare of all intelligent and cultivated society. 
 But then, the wonder grows, with what hope of 
 9
 
 98 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 generous service to a noble cause, against that stalk 
 ing giant of Error, always advancing to defy the 
 armies of Truth, they put on harness which they 
 have not proved, and upon what theory of moral 
 accountability, they yield up their means of influence, 
 if not their judgment and duty, to interested and 
 often incompetent parties, who, for the most selfish 
 ends, mislead and abuse the public mind and inflict 
 infinite injury upon the cause of a healthy and ser 
 viceable literature. I do not mean to assert, that an 
 entirely accurate knowledge of the technical canons 
 of criticism, however useful, and a mind stored with 
 all the diversified accomplishments of elegant scholar 
 ship, and a memory, furnished, like a well-ordered 
 battery, with all the bristling armament of attack and 
 defence, though of the utmost service, as those of us 
 who are deficient in them often feel, in attempting to 
 make up a deliberate opinion upon any book, that 
 these are absolutely necessary, to enable us to deter 
 mine what works of the day we may read with profit, 
 or what might tend to pervert our taste, take the 
 bloom off of the freshness of our moral sensibility 
 and belittle our understandings, and the reversals 
 of cotemporary decisions, which time at length de 
 crees, might teach us all some modesty as to the 
 value of a too hasty judgment, bringing this one 
 down and setting up another, and our own expe 
 rience of the estimate we place, to-day, upon those
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 99 
 
 writings, over whose pages we wept or laughed, a 
 month ago, and which we do not care much to look 
 upon again, tend very much to show the importance 
 of a higher and sounder standard of criticism, than 
 can he conveniently maintained in the columns of a 
 daily newspaper. 
 
 But I do claim, that the lavish and indiscriminate 
 praise bestowed by the newspaper-press, often with a 
 strange unanimity, upon swarm after swarm of worth 
 less and sometimes really pernicious writings, argues 
 either a 1 ilindncss of judgment, which requires much 
 enlightenment, or a willingness to tamper with the 
 best interests of society, demanding its emphatic rep 
 robation. I do earnestly object and protest against 
 a practice, degrading to the press and treacherous to 
 its trust, under which it sacrifices that impartial ex 
 pression of opinion, which is the sole test of its inde 
 pendence, and the only basis of its utility, and thus 
 betrays the public confidence, by selling literary judg 
 ment, which should be above price, to be valuable at 
 all, by permitting its sheets to become the mere vehi 
 cles of those, whose only object is pecuniary gain, and 
 by thus dragging folly, impudence and vice through all 
 the foetid channels of society, and often, over paths 
 of fresher fragrance and purer light, where only inno 
 cence and peace ought to enjoy the loving and secure 
 domain. As if it were not enough for the press, in 
 some of its manifestations, to come forward in forma
 
 100 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 pauperisj and make appeals of solicitation to the 
 public sympathy and support, which may not be un 
 reasonable, when they are really deserved, or, in 
 other moods, to assume a bolder front, and claim for 
 its dictates the sanctity of supreme law, to insinuate, 
 that he, who does not study their columns, might as 
 well neglect all other studies, to remind the thought 
 less multitude of direful and complicated disasters, 
 always impending over that unwary, and now, I sup 
 pose, merely hypothetical individual, who does not 
 take the papers, as if it were not enough, by thus 
 pushing their own circulation, to have substituted, in 
 a great measure, for the solid food of the mind, lucu 
 brations, often excellent, but which, every intelligent 
 editor knows, afford, after all, a very unsatisfactory 
 repast for the hungry mind, so that the very ele 
 ments of our mental growth, the guides of our youth, 
 the refreshment of our manhood, the solace of our 
 age, the material of our reflection, and the inspira 
 tion of our progress towards the stars, the secret 
 fountains of good literature, whence the soul draws 
 vigor only upon diligent quest, must be unsought 
 (for who does, or who can find time for this, if his 
 restless thirst for knowledge is momentarily allayed 
 by these trickling way-side rills ?) as if this were not 
 quite enough to disorder the faculties and to enervate 
 the strength of the general mind, still more, in the 
 indulgence of a growing venality, many, certainly not
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 101 
 
 all, must lend themselves to purposes of popular de 
 ception, notorious to the well-informed ; and if they do 
 not themselves dress up falsehood, yet allow her to be 
 so arrayed at the foot of their own tribunal, and 
 thence issue forth in the stolen habiliments of truth, 
 making- her thus appear sectarian and factious, who 
 ought to be universal, consenting to the irresponsible 
 creation and announcement of a thousand narrow, 
 partizan, and yet extravagant reputations, truly bub 
 bles, and selling incalculable mischief for a paltry 
 consideration, until, at length, in the very nature of 
 the case, a sort of conventional condition of things 
 would be likely to grow up, so that neither would 
 the editor be expected to mean what he alleged, nor 
 would anybody, but the unsuspicious, be expected so 
 to understand him, and nothing would be so var 
 nished and insincere as newspaper praise, nothing so 
 truly fictitious, as a wide-spread literary reputation, 
 when it had been thus gained, and, at length, the gen 
 eral and apparently spontaneous laudation of the press 
 might be almost assumed to be a general conspiracy 
 for public fraud. 
 
 Indeed, one would seem, sometimes, almost driven 
 to the conclusion, that newspapers conceive it their 
 business to praise most those books, which undoubt 
 edly need the most charitable consideration of their 
 character ; and that the critical opinion expressed, is 
 not so much the result of a fair judgment of the 
 9*
 
 102 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 merits, as it is evidence of some morbid sympathy, 
 touched by the very defects of the production. A 
 well-regulated and truthful mind will accord praise 
 only to deserving objects. One which is ill-regulated 
 is little disposed to admit the claims of anything, 
 which is superior to its own capacity ; but rather flat 
 ters its own self-estimate, perhaps, in bestowing com 
 pliments upon whatever it accounts inferior to itself ; 
 because, in the latter instance, its native vanity is not 
 necessarily lowered. And sometimes, we may fear, 
 that, in this world of ours, men endeavor to escape the 
 contempt to which they are themselves subject, by 
 striving to debase others to their own level. 
 
 Besides, in order to exercise criticism justly, judg 
 ment, taste and skill, as well as a mind open to fair 
 impressions, are essential, while none of these quali 
 ties are requisite, to enable the writer to pile up elab 
 orate generalizations of praise. The consequence 
 is, that the latter style of remark is often employed, 
 in these vehicles, when the editor knows not what else 
 to say ; and, frequently, commendation is so lavished 
 upon unworthy objects, that a just and reasonable ex 
 pression of approbation, of a really meritorious, useful 
 and valuable work, would seem almost like censure 
 itself, it falls so much below the exaggerated and ex 
 travagant criterion of ordinary encomium. For truth 
 and excellence these newspapers, as we would bene 
 volently conclude, often appear to imagine, can take
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 103 
 
 care of themselves, and so they leave them to the 
 chances of good or ill-fortune ; while every veritable 
 imposture really seems to elicit all their good offices ; 
 and they assist it to puff and swell itself up into a 
 vain show, and thus to deceive the populace, which of 
 itself is sufficiently resolved on being deceived. And 
 they thus forget or betray the doctrine of a sentiment, 
 as wise and useful now, as when it was first pro 
 nounced Virtus rectorem, ducemque dcsidcrat, vitia 
 sine magistro discuntur. 
 
 These opinions may seem bold, but they would 
 require much more firmness for their expression, if 
 the more intelligent and well-disposed of the class 
 indicated were not already sensible of great defects 
 and evils, of this and other descriptions, in the man 
 agement of newspapers, and if these ordinary means 
 of public information and enlightenment were not 
 already groaning under many burdens of this sort, 
 which they know not how to lift, and if I did not 
 feel confident, that all the honest conductors of the 
 press will rejoice in whatever shall do something 
 towards their relief, by directing public attention to a 
 great and growing mischief, in the correction of which 
 the public is so deeply interested. 
 
 Is there any remedy for this evil ? To the honor 
 of whatever is best in society, be it said, that, although 
 vast mischiefs, already existing, owe their origin and 
 their continuance to the unbridled license, the indis-
 
 104 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 cretion and the ignorance and falsity of a portion of 
 the press, that, though by their means feverish ex 
 citements have been fanned, leading to deadly disor 
 ders in the body politic and social, though from this 
 source the minds of the young have been poisoned, 
 the peace of families has been destroyed, the authority 
 of wisdom, virtue and experience set at naught, the 
 purity of life polluted, and a flippant, mocking, dis 
 believing spirit sent current into the ordinary avenues 
 of the community yet the growing indifference to 
 the opinions of newspapers, once carrying weight and 
 authority, not to be ascertained, perhaps, by the 
 statistics of their circulation, but in the fact, that the 
 public look to them, more and more, as mere matters 
 of amusement and vehicles of ordinary intelligence, 
 shows that society will demand something more 
 reliable, and suggests to them the necessity of a more 
 judicious management and a more elevated tone. I 
 am not willing, for one, to pay a servile homage to 
 the formal or informal dissertations of a newspaper, 
 written, as I happen to know, by a certain definable 
 individual, perhaps, an acquaintance or friend, whose 
 capacity and standard may be accurately guaged, 
 although he may be supposed to represent, and may 
 misrepresent, the opinions of any sect, or clique, or 
 combination. But I respect his calling, I value his 
 opportunities of usefulness, I honor and prize his 
 power to disseminate valuable information, and the
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 105 
 
 vast capacity of his means to promote that true aim 
 of all rational society, a community of good-feeling, 
 intelligence and virtue. Him I personally esteem 
 more than ordinary men, his press I hold as a just 
 exemplification of the choicest blessing of human 
 invention, when he honestly dedicates his abilities 
 to this beneficent purpose, and speeds the winged 
 messengers of thought upon so charitable a mission. 
 
 When I consider how fluctuating is public opinion, 
 how readily popular sentiment may be raised or 
 depressed, by the operation of external influences 
 brought steadily and continuously to bear upon it, 
 and how much the cause of true knowledge and true 
 freedom is dependent upon the current expression of 
 public thought, I could wish, if it were possible, that 
 some higher standard might be contrived by human 
 ingenuity, for the authorized tone of newspaper specu 
 lation. If it be assumed, that the march of human 
 events is to place society eventually in a more elevated 
 position, than it has heretofore attained, since, obvi 
 ously, this could be the result only of its intellectual 
 and moral advancement, that is, of the higher con 
 trol conquered by our supersensible faculties over our 
 material nature, it follows, that, unless the means of 
 progress are really of a character calculated to pro 
 mote, rather than retard an event so desirable, the 
 position is itself erroneous. Taking into view, there 
 fore, the fact of the extraordinary circulation secured
 
 106 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 by the newspaper press, and that, by its demands 
 upon our time, and by means of its creation and 
 encouragement of a popular taste, it has contrived 
 to substitute itself, in a great measure, for former 
 sources of mental refreshment and discipline, the 
 writings of poets, orators, philosophers and historians, 
 whose speculations arc concerned about the essen 
 tial elements of life, and whose works are approved 
 by the deliberate judgment of mankind, it becomes 
 us to inquire, if this new instrument of progress be 
 in advance, or belli] id, above or below, the actual 
 necessities of the times. Are those, who, by the force 
 of circumstances, have gained this extraordinary facil 
 ity of intercourse with the masses of the community, 
 entitled to their preeminent advantages of influence, 
 upon their merits and their honor, adding living 
 stones, day by day, to the growing structure, which is 
 eventually to constitute the perfect and completed 
 edifice of human good ? Or, arc they pursuing, as 
 neither poets, orators, philosophers or historians, who 
 have acquired any permanent fame, have ever done, 
 a temporizing policy, likely to accelerate the down 
 ward impulse of general deterioration ? 
 
 If we rely upon newspapers, instead of thinking for 
 ourselves, we have really constituted a numerous 
 body of public instructors, leading public sentiment, 
 moulding public morals, forming public and private 
 character, effecting great changes in our social condi-
 
 THE DAILY PRESS. 107 
 
 tion, working to some end, and, therefore, undermin 
 ing, if they arc not strengthening, the foundations of 
 our civil rights ; and it is high time public attention 
 were awakened to the fact. But why should not 
 those, who are to educate the people, be themselves 
 educated, for the public service, upon the public re 
 sponsibility ? For education, by which is meant the 
 complete training of the mind, and, if you please, 
 the body, though it renders no man perfect, does 
 tend to the enlargement of his faculties and the eleva 
 tion of his soul, so that they, who come from the 
 select company of those, who, in all ages, have digni 
 fied and glorified the condition of manhood, are less 
 susceptible of mean views, less liable to petty temp 
 tations, less easily controlled and led away, by the 
 madness of the populace demanding infamous com 
 pliances. I am sure, I should be glad to see a col 
 lege, or a commission established, to settle upon a 
 firmer and fairer basis the theory of editorial qualifi 
 cations, not certainly rendering such training indis 
 pensable, because this might be to erect a censorship, 
 dangerously interfering with the just exercise of popu 
 lar liberty, but to raise the standard of instruction, 
 in ethics, as well as in learning, amongst those, whose 
 duty and whose privilege it is to teach. I know not 
 why, in this way, the whole corps editorial, like the 
 learned professions, in this and all other civilized 
 countries, might not eventually and safely be placed, 
 under the guidance and protection of the law. Is
 
 108 THE USES AND ABUSES OF 
 
 such an idea impracticable or inexpedient ? Or, is it 
 not rather an object of the clearest common concern, 
 that the requirements of this profession should be 
 such, as to warrant its pretensions to be ranked 
 amongst the highest intellectual pursuits, and so to 
 make its influence as beneficial, as it is already widely 
 extensive ? We establish schools, under the law, and 
 with suitable regulations, for the purpose of convert 
 ing boys and girls into such men and women, as shall 
 adorn and bless society, and I see not how this great 
 public school of morals and of knowledge should fail 
 of converting men and women into children again, 
 unless a corrector public sentiment should regulate 
 its license, and give the spur to a more honorable 
 ambition. 
 
 I sincerely trust, that none of those, whom I have 
 had the honor to address, this evening, will have mis 
 apprehended the true scope of my views, or the just 
 nature of my motives. I know not how any abuse 
 can stand a chance of reformation, unless it be fairly 
 and freely presented to the public ordeal, and brought 
 to the test of that judgment, often momentarily erro 
 neous, seldom wilfully and permanently perverse. I 
 have not discharged a duty, which many might con 
 sider thankless and even invidious, so much are we 
 the slaves of opinion, because I look upon the Press, 
 taking its abuses, together with what it has of enlight 
 ened and legitimate action, as anything else, than the 
 most available and indispensable common instrument
 
 THE DAILY PEESS. 109 
 
 of human progress, but because I would see it shake 
 off some of its modern vices, and reinstate itself in 
 public confidence, and grow with it to a nobler stat 
 ure, by a j uster and more generous administration of 
 its powers. My only fear is, that I have been unable 
 to do the work proposed, even if it were in my power 
 at all, so thoroughly as I had hoped, within the lim 
 ited compass of a single lecture. I have expressed 
 these opinions, because I entertain them. I do not 
 know, that any one has undertaken formally to pre 
 sent the subject in this light before. I have consulted 
 no authority and have read no book. My views, such 
 as they arc, are the result of some experience and 
 means of observation, and of a great deal of inevita 
 ble reflection. I seek only for the press, that it may 
 be entitled to a higher honor, and enjoy a wider sphere 
 of usefulness. I would have it, therefore, manly, 
 vigorous, thoughtful, generous, elevated, just and 
 sincere. Upon this mature development of its char 
 acter will very much depend its future influence upon 
 popular sentiment ; and it is the manifestation of this 
 sentiment, which is to advance or retard the substan 
 tial improvement of mankind. 
 
 NOTE. While this volume is going to press, the author makes the 
 following extract from a leading New York paper, the application of 
 which to his whole subject is obvious. " Party-spirit pervades nearly 
 the whole press, religious as well as secular ; and every paper, in the 
 interest of any party, whether moral, ecclesiastical or political, resorts 
 to devices for promoting its ends, which a rigid judgment would prob 
 ably be compelled to regard as immoral." 
 10
 
 MR. MACAULAY 
 
 WARREN HASTINGS 
 
 IT is now more than forty years ago, since two 
 young Americans, who at that period happened to 
 be in London, amongst other objects of curiosity and 
 interest, were induced to visit Lansdownc-House, then 
 the town-residence of the Marquis of Lansdownc, well- 
 known, in his day, in the circles of politics and letters. 
 It is understood, that the show-palaces of the English 
 nobility are to be seen by strangers, only in the ab 
 sence of their proprietors ; and, in the present in 
 stance, the owner had been some time absent, at 
 some one of his residences in the country. Ac 
 cordingly, the Americans were introduced into the 
 house ; and, in the course of their perambulation of 
 the premises and inspection of library and paintings, 
 were conducted to an apartment, containing only two 
 pictures. One of these every American would at 
 once recognize, as the unmistakable portrait of the 
 Father of his Country ; the other proved to be the 
 counterfeit presentment of a personage, then scarcely
 
 112 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 less known to fame ; and was, in fact, the portrait of 
 Warren Hastings, for many years, the Governor-gen 
 eral of India. It so happened, however, that, during 
 their visit, Lord Lansdowne unexpectedly returned to 
 town, and, understanding that there were strangers 
 examining the house, courteously proceeded to the 
 room, where our young friends were engaged ; and 
 entering into conversation with them, informed them, 
 that he appropriated this privileged apartment to 
 these two pictures alone, as being the portraits of the 
 two greatest men he had ever known. 
 
 The Americans said nothing ; and, as that was not 
 the age of " free discussion," felt, perhaps, that it 
 might be uncivil to call in question even the most 
 eccentric fancies of a gentleman, in his own house. 
 But the saying sank deep into their memory ; and 
 when one of the parties, some time since, gave me 
 the particulars of the adventure, it struck my mind, 
 I must confess, as a thing of peculiar incongruity. 
 Washington and Warren Hastings! The savior of 
 his country and the desolator of an oppressed and 
 ruined people ! This one, the living spirit of all that 
 is known as truth, wisdom, honor, moderation and 
 integrity in man, that one, the cruel and unjust 
 tool of a grasping and insatiable avarice ! This man, 
 at the close of all his patient and heroic toils, in the 
 great struggle, to which his own prudence and brave 
 policy, by the blessing of Heaven, had brought sue-
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 113 
 
 cess, claiming no reward of his country, and ac 
 cepting only the bare repayment of so much, as he 
 had expended, from his own fortune, in her service ; 
 the other, rioting upon extorted bribes, and return 
 ing from the land, which his injustice had made 
 wretched, to receive, in charity, at last, the means of 
 sustaining his prolonged existence, from the coffers 
 which had been so often replenished by his own wick 
 edness ! The one, retiring from the cares of public 
 life, amidst the grateful tears of a reluctant people, 
 followed by the admiration of the Avorld and secure 
 of the benedictions of posterity ; the other, disgrace 
 fully recalled from the distant world, where his 
 crimes had made the name of Englishman a scourge 
 and a dread ; met, upon his native shore, by the exe 
 crations of the populace and the stern rebuke of the 
 highest, the brightest and the purest spirits of his 
 country s glorious days ; impeached by the Commons 
 of England, in the name of the people whom he had 
 wronged, and for the sake of the humanity which he 
 had outraged ; and after a trial, enduring for a longer 
 series of years than that, within which his compa 
 triot of Lansdowne-House had achieved the liber 
 ties of the republic, finally escaping, amidst the ter 
 giversations of political factions, the wearisomeness of 
 protracted justice, and the influence of a spirit, which 
 submitted to prefer interest to honor and could not 
 well preserve its consistency by condemning the cul- 
 10*
 
 114 MB. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 prit, after it had accepted and appropriated his 
 bribe. 
 
 The anecdote, which I have just detailed, was 
 brought forcibly to my recollection, in reading, some 
 time since, the brilliant and seductive article of Mr. 
 Macaulay, upon the character and administration of 
 Hastings. The subject, considered in its connections, 
 is one of vast importance, inasmuch as it relates to 
 the commencement and extension of British power in 
 Asia, and the influence of this domination upon the 
 interests, the morals and the happiness of the world. 
 But the Essay of Mr. Macaulay, with all its elaborate 
 splendor of diction and graphic profusion of illustra 
 tion, did not satisfy my judgment, for precisely the 
 same reason, that the juxtaposition of the portraits of 
 Washington and Hastings did not coincide with the 
 preconceptions of the young Americans at Lansdownc- 
 House. To estimate the character of an individual, 
 by setting his vices in parallel with his abilities and 
 their unscrupulous exercise for the acquisition of do 
 minion and riches, for himself or others, may indeed 
 tend to dazzle and bewilder the imagination. But 
 when we come to compare such a man with him, who 
 has devoted his powers to the unquestionable benefit 
 of his race, or, which is better, to try him by the un 
 erring standard of truth and justice itself, the fallacy 
 becomes apparent to the most cursory apprehension. 
 It cannot be denied, that the world is not too apt to
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 115 
 
 make the necessary and reasonable distinction be 
 tween the uses of great ability, accordingly as it is 
 well or ill employed ; or to remember that the sole 
 legitimate purpose, as well as the only merit of 
 knowledge, consists in the enlargement of virtue ; and 
 if we could but escape subjection to that inverse rule 
 of morals, by which the world calls " good evil and 
 evil good," we might demand, that the highest intel 
 lect should be but the measure and standard of the 
 most consummate goodness. In the Court of Heav 
 en, we know that the perversion of talents is to be 
 regarded criminal, in proportion to their amount and 
 superiority. At the tribunal of worldly judgment, 
 the very possession of distinguished powers is too 
 often looked upon as a sufficient palliation for their 
 abuse. 
 
 I shall not allege, that the Essay of Mr. Macaulay 
 is in any sense a panegyric. He professes, indeed, 
 to assume the attitude of an impartial judge. He 
 neither imitates the miserable adulation of Mr. Gleig, 
 whose Biography of Hastings he reviews ; nor is he 
 stirred up to the just severity, honestly exhibited by 
 Mill, in his History of British India. He pretends to 
 deprecate, on the one hand, any deference to that 
 caprice of popular favor, which induced the House of 
 Commons in 1813, to rise up in honor of a man, who, 
 twenty-seven years before, had escaped the punish 
 ment of his crimes, through the technicalities of the
 
 116 MR. MACAULAY ON WAREEN HASTINGS. 
 
 law ; and, on the other, Mr. Burke s spirit of indig 
 nant denunciation, which compelled Hastings himself 
 to acknowledge, at the close of one of those terrible 
 philippics, that he " felt himself to be the most guilty 
 man alive," "until," he continued, "he appealed 
 to his conscience and was reassured." But besides 
 the advancement of occasional theories in morals, 
 adapted, it is to be feared, rather to the vitiated taste 
 of the times, than to the requirements of the eternal 
 rule of right, there is a dazzling series of picturesque 
 descriptions, and a display of gorgeous scenery, more 
 like the allurements of romance, than homely and 
 natural truth, and all so clothed in a veil of enchant 
 ing language, that it is difficult to separate the char 
 acter of the freebooter from his successes and to re 
 member, as we are led to the conclusion, that it is, 
 after all, like dragging a criminal, in a triumphal car 
 to the place of his execution, and crowning with fruit 
 less laurels the head, which, the next moment, is to 
 find its brotherhood with the clod. 
 
 And this, in truth, is the chief subject of complaint 
 against Mr. Macaulay. Not, that he does not rebuke 
 with sufficient severity some of those instances of the 
 conduct of Hastings, which, indeed, could admit of 
 no defence ; nor, that he leaves entirely out of his 
 account many of the more flagrant examples of cruel 
 and rapacious injustice, which signalized his adminis 
 tration ; but that he covers up truth with sophistical
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 117 
 
 extenuation ; that he palliates infamy by the enforce 
 ments of expediency ; that he admits his hero to have 
 resolved deliberately upon the accomplishment of evil 
 purposes, and then urges the necessity of evil means, 
 in order to secure success ; that, while he leads the 
 careful reader almost to apprehend some deficiency 
 in the moral perceptions of the brilliant essayist, he 
 leaves the less discriminating, at least in doubt, wheth 
 er Hastings, though unquestionably guilty of grave 
 offences, was not, on the whole, a persecuted and in 
 jured man; that he seems to justify a conclusion, 
 that the world has wasted much declamation, for 
 some thousands of years, against mercenary and am 
 bitious conquest; and bewilders us onwards to the 
 treacherous inference, that even he may be deserving 
 of admiration, if not respect, whose only claim to 
 merit, upon his own showing, consisted in extending 
 British dominion over a country, to which she had 
 not the shadow of a right, and in transmitting to his 
 employers immense treasures, obtained constantly by 
 means, for which even Hastings himself does not pre 
 tend to set up any defence. 
 
 It is no part of my purpose, to enter upon any de 
 tailed account of this remarkable man. A dreaming 
 and romantic boy, at his native village of Daylesford, 
 there mingled with his earliest reflections the resolu 
 tion to recover those paternal possessions, with which 
 his impoverished ancestors had been compelled to
 
 118 MB. MACAULAY ON WAKREN HASTINGS. 
 
 part ; and this idea, which he never lost sight of, until 
 its final realization, together with the hope of reviving 
 an extinguished family title, afford a plausible key to 
 much of his subsequent career. At a very early age 
 he was admitted to the civil service of the East India 
 Company. By the exertion of his extraordinary en 
 dowments and the fortunate concurrence of events, he 
 was soon raised to a post of great trust and emolu 
 ment. One of the earliest incidents in his political 
 life, not even alluded to by Mr. Macaulay, was his 
 intervention, as interpreter, in an infamous plot, con 
 trived between some of the English agents and cer 
 tain native functionaries, for the deposition of one 
 prince and the assassination of another. As all the 
 revolutions, which were brought about in India, were 
 promoted for the acquisition of money, besides the 
 incidental benefit to the parties concerned, the Com 
 pany eventually realized between 200,000 and 
 300,000 by this creditable transaction. When, 
 some time afterwards, a report of its character was 
 brought to the knowledge of the Directors in London, 
 they transmitted orders to the Council for its investi 
 gation. This board consisted of three individuals, of 
 whom Hastings was one. His connection with the 
 business seemed to disqualify him for the position of 
 a judge. In order to remove this impediment, Mr. 
 Hastings prepared a statement, in which he alleged, 
 that he did not recollect acting as interpreter, and
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 119 
 
 that he thought he should remember it, if he had, in 
 fact, been present in that capacity. Nor can we, on 
 our part, doubt, that he must easily have recalled the 
 particulars of transactions so important, occurring 
 within the previous two or three years. To corrobo 
 rate the account given by Hastings, another of the 
 accomplices, who, while the transaction was fresh, 
 had made affidavit that Hastings did so act, now 
 recalled his foraner statement, and affirmed that he 
 conceived he must have been mistaken, in his original 
 deposition, and believed, that he himself was in reality 
 the interpreter on the occasion in question. The 
 Council, thus conveniently composed, constituted the 
 tribunal, which was to judge of the weight of the pre 
 cious testimony submitted for the mutual exculpa 
 tion. In fact, the recollections of the whole party 
 became finally extremely indistinct, and they thus 
 proceeded, with clear judgment, to the honorable 
 acquittal of all persons concerned ! 
 
 The period elapsing, between the retirement of 
 Olive and the accession of Hastings to the Presidency 
 of Bengal, exhibited that country in an aspect, which 
 had never before been witnessed, on such a scale, in 
 the history of the world. There was literally nothing 
 like civil government throughout its territories. The 
 native Prince, who still retained his title and every 
 show of outward respect, possessed not even the 
 slightest shadow of authority. The English power,
 
 120 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 which, commencing with the establishment of an in 
 significant trading-fort and factory, at Calcutta, had 
 seized, on what might, perhaps, be considered some 
 reasonable pretext, to secure the mastery of the pro 
 vince, still submitted to the style of vassals of the 
 throne of Delhi ; and the Council, which represented 
 the Company at home, employed its energies almost 
 entirely upon negotiations for the benefit and further 
 ance of trade. With no constitution, therefore, or 
 form of civil government, or system of recognized 
 law; indeed, without any responsible political head, 
 since the supreme authority, which existed at the 
 council-board, was altogether devoted to the require 
 ments of mercantile affairs, rather than to the admin 
 istration of justice, it is not strange that unheard-of 
 abuses and excesses ravaged and desolated the land. 
 The natives dared not resist the most unwarrantable 
 assumptions. Every Englishman, in fact, did not 
 what was right, but what seemed most profitable in 
 his own eyes. Trade, instead of a just and honorable 
 commerce, for the mutual benefit, became a system of 
 thorough and unscrupulous pillage. And, as no 
 foreigner resided in India, except for the purpose of 
 amassing a fortune, the infamous rapidity, with which 
 this object could be effected, rather than any consider 
 ation of the just means, was the ruling principle of 
 all classes of Europeans, throughout this unhappy 
 land. It is matter of eternal and indelible disgrace
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 121 
 
 to the English name, that, for a scries of fifteen years, 
 from 1756, the commencement of British domination 
 in Asia, to the accession of Hastings, in 1771, such 
 remained the true condition of this wretched and dis 
 tracted country. The issue of that revolution, which 
 had secured the rights of conquest to an enlightened 
 and Christian nation, imposed upon it equally the 
 duties of moral government and the establishment of 
 civil polity. And if the very peculiarities of this sin 
 gular people, and those deep-rooted prejudices, which, 
 deducing their origin in some remote period of undis 
 covered antiquity, had preserved their personal habits 
 and their social organization the same, under every 
 influx of foreign invasion and through successive 
 internal revolutions, in spite of Mussulman bigotry 
 and the intermixture of a hundred races, in defiance 
 alike of the Mahometan sword and the more peaceful 
 weapons of the Christian church militant ; if these 
 things rendered them less likely to be readily influ 
 enced even by the highest exemplification of princi 
 ples, which our religion professes as its plainest duties, 
 one thing is certain, they had become dependent on 
 their invaders, and were entitled to protection in the 
 common rights, and to security for the ordinary privi 
 leges of humanity. Almost all conquerors, in every 
 stage of society, appear to have had some compunc 
 tions upon this subject. They have established law, 
 at least for the maintenance of their own authority, 
 11
 
 122 MR. MACAULAY ON WARRP]N HASTINGS. 
 
 if not for the direct benefit of those whom they have 
 subdued. The very Tamerlane himself, who, three 
 hundred and fifty years before, had founded on con 
 quest in India that great Mogul Empire, the legal do 
 minion of which the English in Bengal acknowledged, 
 at least, in name, had endeavored, in some measure, 
 to cultivate, in peace, those principles of public and 
 private conduct, without which peace itself never can 
 be desirable. And of the volume, called the " In 
 stitutions of Tamerlane," which he left, as a sacred 
 legacy to his posterity, Mr. Burke declares, that he 
 believes " there is not a book in the world, which con 
 tains nobler, more just, more manly, more pious prin 
 ciples of government." Abused and perverted it had 
 undoubtedly been ; but unfortunately we need not 
 travel so far, as to India within the Ganges, for exam 
 ples of violated constitutions and outraged laws. At 
 all events, the English were bound to provide their 
 subjects, with a system as salutary, as that which they 
 had broken in pieces. And if they had indeed done 
 so, the announcement of Christian doctrine might 
 have been much more efficacious, than after every 
 prejudice had been enlisted, every hostile feeling 
 engendered, and the manners of the people had be 
 come tenfold more corrupted, under every experience 
 of plunder and cruel and lawless violence. 
 
 It was at this period of disorder and insecurity, 
 that so many of those enormous fortunes were
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 123 
 
 amassed, which made a proverb of the titles, as well 
 as transferred the wealth of the native princes, to 
 the crowds of Englishmen in India ; that so many 
 nabobs, so called, returned home, with consciences 
 oftentimes as shattered as their constitutions, to linger 
 out their days, amidst those spoils of extortion, which 
 they had no longer the power to enjoy ; and those 
 magnificent dreams of oriental riches were indeed 
 realized, which overloaded a few, at the expense of 
 miserable millions of mankind. It was in the course 
 of these and a few succeeding years, that the immense 
 amount of two hundred millions of dollars was 
 transported from the one country to the other ; and 
 that England, before this time, if not a poor, yet far 
 from being a wealthy country, but maintaining its 
 respectability with its old honest independence, and 
 for the most part homely and virtuous, became daz 
 zled with this sudden influx of riches and its easy 
 means of acquisition ; yielded to the corrupt influence 
 of a general profusion, to which its people had not 
 been accustomed ; and, losing much principle and 
 self-respect, in the countenance not withheld, if not 
 cordially extended to the returning nabobs, the pub 
 lic mind became at length, more or less vitiated ; nor 
 is it matter of vain speculation, to infer, that the 
 nation is, at this day, struggling in consequence, 
 under many of the just and unavoidable evils, which 
 result from ill-gotten wealth.
 
 124 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 But if such was the condition of India, at the time 
 of the elevation of Hastings to the Presidency of 
 Bengal, certainly never was a fairer field displayed, 
 for the exercise of his splendid abilities, if they had 
 been directed and controlled by the nobler qualities 
 of human nature. A wise and just administration of 
 his government was demanded of him, no less by 
 what was due to the character of England, than by 
 the sufferings of the people of Hindostan. The cries, 
 which so long had appealed to the mercies of the 
 ever-opening heavens ; the evils, which seem some 
 times to be permitted, in order to test our use or 
 abuse of the faculties with which we arc endowed, 
 had, at length, extorted counsels and orders from the 
 Directors, for the reformation of what was indeed a 
 scejie of almost unmitigated horrors. Instead of this, 
 his administration was but one long conflict with the 
 better spirit of his colleagues in the government ; one 
 continued act of disobedience to the directions, if not 
 to the wishes of his employers at home. 
 
 Mr. Macaiilay crowns his final encomium of the 
 career of Hastings, with the assertion that lie " found 
 ed a polity." It would be a more just judgment, to 
 aver, that he extended a usurpation. The same 
 conduct of affairs, which would have exposed a 
 private citizen to the general execration of man 
 kind, exhibited here on an enlarged scale, carried 
 forward witli unscrupulous boldness and terminating
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 125 
 
 in complete success, if it lias not secured Hastings 
 from the obloquy of history, has given his name a 
 distinguished place, upon that doubtful file, at which 
 many well-disposed persons are willing to look, with 
 a certain indefinite feeling of wonder and admira 
 tion. According to the principles of worldly judg 
 ment, in its most worldly sense, Hastings no doubt 
 acted wisely, in the course, which he determined to 
 pursue. He knew well, that men do not, as a gen 
 eral rule, more strictly enquire into the moral char 
 acter of an agent, who never fails to furnish them 
 with all that they demand, than Aladdin, in the 
 Arabian Nights, thought of questioning the legal 
 authority of the Genius of the Lamp ; and he con 
 ceived that he could make no reply so satisfactory, 
 to the reiterated complaints from home, on the sub 
 ject of his injustice and extortion, as the liberal 
 remittance of unquestionable lacs of rupees. Like 
 the Irish absentee landlord, who commands his factor 
 not to rack-rent his tenants, but yet insists on his 
 immediate occasion for a thousand pounds, the 
 Board of Directors filled their letters to the Governor- 
 general, with various weighty resolutions of disappro 
 bation, and issued voluminous homilies, full of the 
 most virtuous and exemplary remonstrance ; but never 
 failed to insinuate, that the necessities of the Company 
 imperatively demanded a fresh supply of the one 
 
 indispensable commodity ! 
 11*
 
 126 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 Mr. Macaulay conceives Hastings to have been 
 thus placed in a situation of great difficulty. In the 
 embarrassed condition of the country which he gov 
 erned, he had no present means of raising money, 
 except by robbery, and the argument is, that it was, 
 therefore, necessary for him to turn buccaneer. But 
 his position, in fact, required him to make his elec 
 tion, between his true duty to the trusts reposed 
 in him, on both sides of the great ocean, which 
 separated the dependant from his masters, controlled 
 by his duty to himself, and to a higher Power, of 
 whom he seems never to have thought, and the 
 commission of great crimes. " He had no choice 
 left him," observes Mr. Macaulay, " except to commit 
 great wrongs, or to resign all his hopes of fortune 
 and distinction." To a really honest mind there 
 would, of course, be no difficulty in making the elec 
 tion. To a mind, constituted like that of Hastings, 
 there was equally no difficulty, for he evidently never 
 entertained a scruple upon the subject. His principle 
 of action is well laid down by Mr. Macaulay himself. 
 " He seems to have held it a fundamental proposition, 
 which could not be disputed, that when he had not as 
 many lacs of rupees as the public service required, he 
 was to take them from any body who hud." And 
 again " The rules of justice, the sentiments of 
 humanity, the plighted faith of treaties, were in his 
 view as nothing, when opposed to the immediate in-
 
 MR. MA CAUL AY OX WARREN HASTINGS. 127 
 
 terests of the state." But even allowing that the 
 requirements of public necessity excuse, if they do 
 not justify much occasional wrong, the heartless 
 depravity of such principles and practices does not 
 admit of the extenuation thus sophistically suggested ; 
 for here was no " public service," except that created 
 to gratify the grasping avarice of Hastings and his 
 employers, and the necessities of the Company itself 
 constituted the only " interests of the state." And it 
 would be, indeed, difficult, to recall many distin 
 guished personages, out of Bulwer s novels, who 
 quite come up to the deformity of character, thus 
 incidentally developed ! Cortez we might instance, 
 perhaps, with some more show of apology ; Fizarro, it 
 would be safe to judge a better man, for though he 
 too robbed and murdered, yet he regarded the hea 
 thenish Peruvians, much as the prophet of old looked 
 upon Agag and the company of Amalck ; and if he 
 destroyed cities to-day, he founded and built up others 
 to-morrow. 
 
 The passages I have quoted will serve to justify 
 Mr. Macaulay, in an occasional moral reflection upon 
 what he gently styles the " faults" of the Governor- 
 general, almost concealed, as they are, in the flowery 
 emblazonment of his career, and neutralized by the 
 implied approbation of his eventful life. But in a 
 government, conducted upon motives like those set 
 forth, the excesses and barbarities, by which it was
 
 128 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 distinguished, would follow as the necessary and un 
 avoidable consequence. It is not strange that these 
 things roused the eventual indignation of English 
 society, which is something, by the way, never to be 
 confounded, in that country, more than in our own, 
 with the policy of the government, or the acts of 
 public bodies ; nor is it singular, that eventually the 
 offender should have been called to answer for his 
 crimes, while there was anything resembling the 
 common attributes of morality, justice or religion 
 remaining in the world. 
 
 I am willing to make every reasonable allowance 
 for the peculiar attitude and relations of the public 
 accusers of Hastings and their principal leader, Mr. 
 Burke ; and however differences may exist, as to 
 some of Mr. Burkc s political speculations, in the 
 estimation of friend and foe alike, few men have ever 
 lived of more unblemished purity of purpose and 
 more perfect integrity of mind and heart. His lan 
 guage upon opening the charges against Hastings is 
 exceedingly strong. " The crimes," he says upon 
 the occasion alluded to, " which we charge in these 
 articles are not lapses, defects, errors of common 
 human frailty, which, as we know and feel, we can 
 allow for. We charge this offender with no crimes, 
 that have not arisen from passions, which it is crimi 
 nal to harbor ; with no offences, that have not their 
 root in avarice, rapacity, pride, insolence, ferocity,
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 129 
 
 treachery, cruelty, malignity of temper ; in short, in 
 nothing that does not argue a total extinction of all 
 moral principle ; that docs not manifest an inveterate 
 blackness of heart, dyed in grain with malice, viti 
 ated, corrupted, gangrened to the very core. If we 
 do not plant his crimes in those vices, which the 
 breast of man is made to abhor, and the spirit of all 
 laws, human and divine, to interdict, we desire no 
 longer to be heard on this occasion. We 
 
 urge no crimes that were not crimes of forethought. 
 We charge him with nothing, that he did not commit 
 upon deliberation : that he did not commit against 
 advice, supplication and remonstrance ; that he did 
 not commit against the direct command of lawful 
 authority ; that he did not commit after reproof and 
 reprimand ; the reproof and reprimand of those, who 
 are authorized by the laws to reprove and reprimand 
 him. * * * He was fourteen years at the head 
 of that service, and there is not an instance, no, not 
 one single instance, in which he endeavored to detect 
 corruption, or that he ever, in any one single in 
 stance, attempted to punish it ; but the whole service, 
 with that whole mass of enormity which he attributes 
 to it, slept as it were at once under his terror and his 
 protection ; under his protection, if they did not dare 
 to move against him ; under his terror, from his 
 power to pluck out individuals and make a public
 
 180 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 example of them, whenever he saw fit. And there 
 fore, that service, under his guidance and influence, 
 was even beyond what its own nature disposed it to, 
 a service of confederacy, a service of connivance, a 
 service composed of various systems of guilt, of which 
 Mr. Hastings was the head and protector." 
 
 It is not often that the most austere and ferocious 
 tyrant is more forcibly portrayed. And if we can 
 indeed conceive of a man totally deficient in the 
 common sentiments of justice and humanity, or to 
 tally averse to their application, we may form some 
 judgment of the probable course and ciirrcnt of 
 events, likely to distinguish his administration. It is 
 scarcely possible, without entering more minutely 
 into the subject than I intend, even to allude intelli 
 gibly to intricate affairs like these, often dependent, 
 for their full understanding, upon various circum 
 stantial details and explanations. It would be in 
 vain to emulate the highly-wrought illustrations of 
 the Essay of Mr. Macaulay. But I shall endeavor 
 to present what I have thought it important to con 
 sider, with all reasonable clearness to your good 
 sense and judgment. 
 
 I have already remarked, that Hastings found the 
 finances of Bengal in a state of considerable embar 
 rassment. In order to meet this exigency, he did 
 not attempt to stem the current of abuses, nor, as is 
 the fashion of modern legislators, to call into play the
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 131 
 
 invaluable services of an able and judicious commit 
 tee of retrenchment. But wisely reflecting that, since 
 all Englishmen in India were there, for the purpose 
 of making money, by fair means or foul, it Avould be 
 a pity to disturb them in so laudable a pursuit, he 
 left them altogether to their own devices, and looked 
 about him, on his part, for native princes of reputed 
 riches, to insult, and upon any show of displeasure, 
 to plunder without mercy or compunction. In fact, 
 nothing could be more simple and efficacious, than 
 the process by which Hastings raised the necessary 
 remittances. It must be remembered, that, in the 
 earlier part of his administration, he was only the 
 governor of Bengal, which province Avas held by the 
 East India Company solely for the purposes of com 
 merce. The Empire of Hindostan, of which Ben 
 gal made a portion, consisted of a great number of 
 principalities, more or less independent, although 
 nominally owning subjection to the descendant of 
 Tamerlane at Delhi. The Empire had become thor 
 oughly disorganized, after the successful invasion of 
 the great Persian conqueror, Nadir Shah, in the early 
 part of the eighteenth century. The various viceroys 
 or princes were generally at dissension amongst them 
 selves ; and many of them were ambitious of extend 
 ing their territories and power. Some of these 
 dignitaries had accumulated vast treasures, which 
 Hastings wanted ; he, on the other hand, had troops
 
 132 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 at his command, against whose discipline the bravest 
 native forces were utterly unable to contend. Noth 
 ing could be more obvious, therefore, than the course 
 of conduct to be pursued. Whenever the directors 
 at home suggested the propriety of further remit 
 tances, Hastings, at once, proceeded to take posses 
 sion of a province. It sometimes happened, that he 
 was able to effect an amicable arrangement with 
 some one of the superior officers of the reigning 
 prince, and rewarded his treachery by installing him 
 in the place of his deposed master, at a stipulated 
 and always an extremely remunerative price. In 
 case an arrangement of this kind could not be con 
 veniently made, he disposed of the stolen province, 
 by sale, to the nearest potentate, who was willing to 
 become the purchaser. By means like these, he Avas 
 able, in less than two years, to add something like 
 700,000 to the annual revenue of " The Honorable, 
 the Company of Merchants, trading to the East 
 Indies," besides sending home about 1,000,000, in 
 ready money. 
 
 The sad and painful history of the unfortunate 
 Princesses of Oude, the two aged and noble women, 
 out of whose protracted sufferings he at length wrung 
 1,200,000, by a course of absolutely unparalleled 
 barbarities, at least since the days of Montezuma 
 and Guatemozin, not only without pretence, but 
 against every emotion which human nature loves,
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 133 
 
 has long prompted the indignant horror of those, who 
 are acquainted with the history of the concluding 
 years of the* last century. It is difficult to imagine, 
 how a mind, actuated by much reverence for the 
 principles of common honesty, can entertain any dif 
 ferent sentiment in regard to other similar instances of 
 atrocity and oppression ; such as the Rohilla war, the 
 execution of the Brahmin Nuncomar, the sack of 
 Dinagopore, the infamous exactions at Benares, and 
 innumerable other acts of treachery and violence, 
 some of which are alluded to, while others do not 
 seem even to have attracted the attention of Mr. 
 Macaulay. It would make the heart too sick, to 
 undertake the recital, or to endure the relation of 
 things, which, in their enormity and extent, surpass 
 all that history or fable have recorded, at least 
 amongst the fruits of peace, if they are not equally 
 eminent above all the more ordinary ferocities of 
 war. And the lapse of more than seventy years, and 
 the gradual influence of a generally more humane 
 and improving legislation, have not been able to ef 
 face them from the memory of the people of India. 
 If it were possible to conceive of an anomaly so 
 strange and unheard of, as a demon of peace itself, 
 only not the genius of War, because all the power, 
 all the cruelty and all the desire to prey upon the 
 defenceless, were rioting at its single heart, some 
 idea may be formed of the condition of this unhappy 
 12
 
 134 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 land, under the terrible visitation of its destroyer. 
 Hastings himself and many after him have set up the 
 plea, that the people of Hindostan were but a nation, 
 whom nature and habit had fitted only for slaves ; 
 and that they would endure no treatment but that, to 
 which a treacherous slave should be subjected by a 
 rigorous master. But, without staying to inquire 
 into the duties, which we may conclude to devolve 
 upon the humane and Christian superior, to whom 
 Providence intrusts the welfare of the dependant, 
 the plea itself is untenable, for the reason that it is 
 not true. That the standard of general morals was 
 not higher in Hindostan, than in many other semi- 
 barbarous countries, we may well believe. That this 
 standard had become depreciated, in proportion as 
 you approached the sea-coast, where foreigners chiefly 
 congregated, we have also some reason for believing 
 to be quite credible. The natives had been, for a long 
 time, subjected to the evils of anarchy, and they had 
 not gained any improvement by their intercourse 
 with Europeans. There arc certain offences which a 
 Hindoo never forgives, chiefly relating to his caste 
 and his personal dignity ; as is the case, in the latter 
 particular, at least, with every unchristianized people. 
 If they have strong faults of character, they are no 
 less distinguished by many kinds of virtue, which it 
 were to be wished were more common and more 
 valued in Europe and America. No doubt, they are
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 135 
 
 acute, intelligent and crafty. In the encounter of 
 wits, the English often had to submit to be foiled in 
 their own game of plunder. Resenting such suc 
 cesses, as injuries, therefore, they looked with suspicion 
 upon all those more prominent Indian qualities ; and 
 they were especially provoked at any reluctance (un 
 pardonable in slaves), to aid their generous design of 
 transferring the gold and the silver, the jewels, the 
 ivory, the silks and the spices, in truth, the riches of 
 the Indies, to the "fast-anchored isle of the ocean ;" 
 and, for all these reasons, the invaders contrived to 
 fix upon the subjected a very discreditable name. 
 
 In order to show, that I do not make allegations 
 without proof, I quote, as to the character of, at least, 
 a portion of the inhabitants of Bengal, a few words 
 from a book, written by a predecessor of Hastings in 
 the Presidency, while the English domination was 
 yet insecure ; and it is of the more authority, because 
 the object of the author was to persuade to a compli 
 ance with his scheme, for the subversion of the Hindu 
 government. 
 
 " In truth," says this author, Mr. Holwell, " it 
 would be almost cruelty to molest this happy people ; 
 for in this district are the only vestiges of the beauty, 
 purity, piety, regularity, equity and strictness of the 
 ancient Hiiidostan government. Here, the property, 
 as well as the liberty of the people are inviolate. 
 Here, no robberies are heard of, either public or pri-
 
 136 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 vate. The traveller, either with or without merchan 
 dise, becomes the immediate care of the government, 
 which allots him guards, without any expense, to con 
 duct him from stage to stage ; and these are account 
 able for the safety of his person and effects. At the 
 end of the first stage, he is delivered over, with cer 
 tain benevolent formalities, to the guards of the next, 
 who, after interrogating him, as to the usage he has 
 received, in his journey, dismiss the first guard with 
 a written certificate of their behavior, and a receipt 
 for the traveller and his effects ; which certificate and 
 receipt are returnable to the commanding officer of 
 the first stage, who registers the same and regularly 
 reports it to the Rajah. In this way, the traveller is 
 passed through the country." And there is much 
 more of the same tenor. 
 
 Such also, according to the very highest authority, 
 was the real condition of the people and government 
 of Benares ; which city was made by Hastings a scene 
 of injustice and extortion, so utterly indefensible, that 
 Mr. Pitt himself, during the progress of the impeach 
 ment, even after the administration of which he was 
 leader had determined to sustain Hastings, voted 
 with the opposition as to part of the charges, declar 
 ing to Mr. Wilberforce, that his conscience would not 
 let him hold out any longer. In the insecure state of 
 the governments of India, the Rajah of this city and 
 its dependencies paid a fixed tribute to the English
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 137 
 
 authorities for their protection. It is admitted, on all 
 hands, that the tribute was strictly and honorably 
 paid ; but the protection proved to be, in the end, 
 such as lambs receive from wolves. The character of 
 this great and magnificent city was somewhat pecul 
 iar. It was regarded with religious reverence, through 
 out all Hindostan. It was filled with schools and 
 colleges and temples of worship. It was constantly 
 crowded with millions of those, who, in that necessity 
 of our nature, which induces certain manifestations 
 of the human mind, in all countries, to aspire to a 
 higher than ordinary tone of religious sentiment, pro 
 fessed, 011 their part, an uncommon sanctity of char 
 acter and deportment ; and thither the devout Hindoo 
 retired to die. It was what Mecca is to the Mahom 
 etan ; and what Jerusalem was, to the Hebrew and 
 Christian alike, during a more exalted if not a purer 
 state of religious influence on society. The adminis 
 tration of the Prince had been mild ; he was univer 
 sally beloved and respected ; his territory was happy 
 and prosperous. It is said, that nothing could be 
 more striking, than the contrast it presented to the 
 provinces, under the more immediate control of the 
 English government. The tax, paid by the Rajah to 
 the Governor-general, amounted to 50,000 a year, 
 and all he requested in return was, that he and his 
 subjects might be permitted to live in the enjoyment 
 of their own peace and quiet, unmolested by the 
 12*
 
 138 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 blessings or the curses of English domination. But 
 the Rajah was reputed to be rich, and the temptation 
 was altogether too strong for the imprmcipled cupid 
 ity of Hastings. Although the precise total of his 
 subsidy was fixed by solemn engagement, the Rajah 
 submitted, with the best grace he could summon, to 
 repeated additional exactions, until patience could 
 endure it no longer. At length, well knowing the 
 character of his extortioner, and in the hope of buy 
 ing a permanent peace, he offered Hastings a bribe of 
 .20,000, which the Governor-general accepted, and 
 concealed, and then renewed his demands. Of the 
 event of his unavailing negotiations, his fruitless 
 efforts to avoid an open rupture, and the result of 
 the unhappy Rajah s desperate but vain resistance, it 
 is impossible to speak in terms of sufficient indigna 
 tion. The Hindoos, in general, are not warlike, and 
 it may be supposed that the minds of a great propor 
 tion of the population, commorant in this city of 
 religion, were bent upon peaceful contemplations. 
 Still the people rallied in defence of the sovereign 
 whom they loved and their own liberties ; but English 
 arms and terror were at length triumphant. The 
 wretched Prince was compelled to flee forever from 
 his hereditary dominions. Benares was reduced to 
 complete subjection to the invaders. The new Rajah, 
 appointed by the Governor-general, Avas a mere pen 
 sioner upon the English bounty, and (the old conse-
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 139 
 
 quence) .200,000, annual income, were added to the 
 regular revenues of the Company. The bribe, Hast 
 ings, after some time, paid over to the funds of the 
 government. The transaction had, of course, become 
 notorious, and, since it was impossible longer to con 
 ceal, it was equally impossible to retain it. The 
 only account he ever gave of the matter was, that he 
 always intended to give the Company credit for it, 
 (although we may remark, they had no more title to 
 it than himself) and, that he, no doubt, had reasons, 
 at the time, for the concealment of its acceptance, but 
 what those reasons were he had entirely forgotten ! 
 Nor did he ever inform the public, that he had re 
 called them to his recollection. 
 
 Some years before these occurrences, an event had 
 taken place, which Mr. Burke, in the proceedings of 
 impeachment, did not scruple to brand with the name 
 of murder ; and for which, whether viewed in its 
 legal or its moral aspect, it seems difficult to discover 
 a softer name. A specification of charges had been 
 filed at the Council-board, accusing Hastings, amongst 
 other corrupt practices, of taking bribes, on various 
 occasions and to large amounts, for the sale of offices 
 mentioned in the statement. The paper was accom 
 panied by documentary evidence in proof ; the sources 
 of oral testimony were pointed out, and the accuser 
 demanded to be personally heard before the Council, 
 in support of his allegations. Nothing could seem a
 
 140 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 fairer or more open procedure than this. It has been 
 averred by one certainly not friendly to Hastings, yet 
 always considered most friendly to the truth, that 
 there was not an office of justice, or other descrip 
 tion, in India, which he did not sell for his own bene 
 fit ; and the records of the Council would seem fully 
 to sustain this assertion, in the judgment of his col 
 leagues. In their records, not only every matter of 
 public business, but every expression of debate and 
 opinion, were regularly entered, for the inspection of 
 the directors at home. Two of his colleagues were 
 certainly men of the very highest and most unsus 
 pected character ; and therefore, we may conclude, 
 justly opposed to the course of his proceedings ; nor 
 do I know anything unfavorable to the private repu 
 tation of the other member, Sir Philip Francis, except 
 that he appears to have been violent and vindictive in 
 his temper and general demeanor. At all events, 
 they were all equally and openly hostile to the pur 
 poses of Hastings. This is one minute, entered at 
 the open Council-board, by General Sir John Clavcr- 
 ing : " In the late proceedings it will appear, that 
 there is no species of peculation, from which the 
 Honorable Governor-general has thought it reasonable 
 to abstain ;" and he further adds, in answer to a state 
 ment made by Hastings : " This is only worthy of a 
 man, who has disgraced himself in the eyes of every 
 man of honor both in Asia and Europe."
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 141 
 
 The Council, as might be concluded, were disposed 
 to proceed in the investigation of the charges pre 
 ferred against him ; but to this Hastings utterly ob 
 jected, alleging the want of jurisdiction of the tribu 
 nal, and the baseness of the accuser himself. The 
 character of this person Mr. Macaulay takes pains to 
 display in the most unfavorable, and, we may believe, 
 the most exaggerated aspect. He alleges all Hindoos 
 to be base, and this person to have been the basest of 
 his race. At all events, if truly described by Hastings 
 and Mr. Macaulay, one would think the head of the 
 government need have had little fear from such a 
 source. The people of India, it is well known, are 
 divided into many hereditary castes. At the head of 
 the very highest and most sacred stood this person, the 
 Brahmin Nuncomar ; a Hindoo of the Hindoos ; the 
 high priest of a priesthood, claiming peculiar venera 
 tion for its order, besides his princely rank amongst 
 the nobility of India. He was possessed of great 
 wealth and immense influence, and the most extraor 
 dinary and commanding talents. He was artful, bold, 
 intriguing and perhaps unprincipled. At some of the 
 courts of Europe, he might have passed for a distin 
 guished statesman and patriot, and even from India 
 he exerted no mean influence upon the deliberations 
 of the court of directors in London. So far as I have 
 been able to ascertain, he was elevated by many higher 
 qualities, debased by no meaner vices, than are dis-
 
 142 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 played in the characters of Harley, Sundcrland, Bute, 
 Walpole, and other familiar names. It is certain, that 
 he was a politician, eminent for one honorahle and 
 generous quality, an earnest of others, the most un 
 tiring fidelity to the person and interests of a master, 
 whom Hastings had oppressed and ruined. That he 
 was personally hostile to Hastings, therefore, there 
 can be no doubt, as well on this, as on many other 
 accounts. They had violently quarrelled, some years 
 before ; and the Governor-general hated him besides, 
 because he did not scruple to engage in thwarting 
 many of his unwarrantable designs. 
 
 The Council persisted in their investigation of the 
 business, and finally adjudged the charges to be fully 
 sustained. In the meantime, Hastings was unques 
 tionably in great danger, and he resolved upon a step 
 so bold, that, like acts of boldness, oftentimes, it 
 seems to have too much astounded others, both then 
 and since, to permit of their forming an accurate 
 judgment. By his confessed instigation, a charge of 
 forgery, alleged to have been committed six years 
 before, was got up against Nuncomar, upon which he 
 was arrested and thrown into the common jail. In 
 order to bring this question to a successful result, the 
 consent of one other person was requisite. This was 
 Sir Elijah Impey, the chief justice of the Supreme 
 Court of Bengal ; a man so execrable, that he has 
 never yet found a defender, for any part of his ad-
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 143 
 
 ministration. He had been the school-fellow, and was 
 now the friend of Hastings. To show at once their 
 relations and the moral sense of both, it is only 
 necessary to state, that, although Impey s salary was- 
 fixed by law at eight thousand pounds, upon some 
 difficulty occurring between them, Hastings had se 
 cured his connivance, by illegally doubling the 
 amount, from funds within his own control. This 
 was certainly a very convenient arrangement to effect 
 with the judicial check imposed upon his own acts ; 
 and the fact proved, that the Governor-general ever 
 after found in Impey a most ready and serviceable 
 instrument. It is said there is no difficulty in pro 
 curing testimony of any description in India. How 
 ever that may be, before this upright judge, with or 
 without evidence, Nuncomar was tried, convicted and 
 sentenced to death ; and, to the horror and consterna 
 tion of all Hindostan, the sentence was carried into 
 speedy execution ! The impression of the scene upon 
 the people of India, though no doubt exciting emo 
 tions far more intense, was like what might be the 
 general dismay of England, if some tyrannical king, 
 who had subverted the Constitution, should under 
 take, without law, and upon some personal dis 
 pleasure, to hang up the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 The prime minister of a prince, over whom the 
 English certainly possessed no just control ; respected 
 and respectable for his priestly functions ; universally
 
 144 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 known by reason both of his personal and political 
 relations ; entitled to some humane consideration, on 
 account of his venerable age ; he was shamefully 
 dragged from his position as the public accuser of 
 Hastings, arrested upon a charge generally believed 
 to have been fictitious ; under a law then recently 
 adapted to the supposed commercial necessities of 
 England, and which never was intended to have, nor 
 could have any legal operation in Asia ; for an 
 offence, which we should regard it utterly unreasona 
 ble to make capital here, and which in India was 
 considered as little criminal, as swearing to a false 
 entry at the Custom-house in England, this man, 
 .hemmed in by all the barriers and prejudices of rank, 
 wealth, influence and religion, was publicly hanged 
 at noon-day, amid the cries and tears of agonized mil 
 lions, the victim of arbitrary and vindictive power ! 
 
 It was for applying the term "murder" to this 
 transaction, that Mr. Burke was subjected to the cen 
 sure of the House of Commons. He received the an 
 nouncement of their disapprobation, with that proud 
 submission, correspondent to the whole course of his 
 dignified and manly life. The state of feeling, which 
 could be excited to the passage of such a vote, against 
 their own authorized and noble manager, for even the 
 strongest expression of indignant feeling, in pursu 
 ance of the duty which they had themselves imposed, 
 amazes us now. But the statute, constituting forgery
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 145 
 
 a capital crime, had been accorded, not long before, 
 to the demands of the commercial community. The 
 offence, a short time previously, had become more than 
 usually common. Much excited feeling, as well as 
 excited interest, had been stirred into action. Public 
 sentiment, on this subject, was in a state of extreme 
 exaggeration. Dr. Dodd had been executed, as a 
 signal example, under this law, notwithstanding the 
 most strenuous efforts in his behalf, headed by Lord 
 Chesterfield, himself the injured party. But the 
 House does not appear to have reflected, that a mere 
 compliance with the forms of law could not constitute a 
 justification for the conduct of Hastings. Its members 
 did not stay to consider, whether Nimcomar was inno 
 cent or guilty ; whether the forgery was a real or only 
 a supposed case, or whether the offence, if proved, was 
 punishable in Asia, as it was in England. Indeed, 
 they did not investigate the question in its bearings 
 at all. Mr. Burke had pronounced the execution of 
 this man for alleged forgery, under all the extraordi 
 nary circumstances of the case, to be murder, and 
 this was enough to rouse the passions and prejudices 
 of the day. No such censure could inflict a stigma 
 upon its object. Of its reflective bearing upon the 
 intelligence and purity of the tribunal, a different view 
 might be presented. The statute has subsequently 
 been repealed ; and it is now well-irnderstood law, 
 that no English statute shall have power over the 
 13
 
 146 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 Colonies, unless by express provision to that effect. 
 To exhibit, in a strong light, the unreasonableness of 
 the feeling alluded to, and the evils of partial and 
 temporary legislation, for this same offence, for 
 which Dr. Dodd was sent to the gallows, near the 
 middle of the last century, Dr. Bailey, another Eng 
 lish clergyman, was transported to Botany Bay, within 
 the past few years. 
 
 It is conceded by Mr. Macaulay, that " Impey, sit 
 ting as a judge, put Nuncomar unjustly to death, in 
 order to serve a political purpose." But he palliates 
 the conduct of Hastings, upon two grounds. First, 
 that he might well consider " any means legitimate 
 to his end, which were pronounced such by the sages 
 of the law ;" and secondly, that " Hastings cannot be 
 blamed, for wishing to crush his accusers." They 
 are both strange doctrines, and need but a brief reply. 
 The " sages of the law," however, I may as well 
 remark, were none other than Sir Elijah Impey, and 
 him alone ; and though such " sages" certainly have 
 occasionally sat upon the bench, yet, to the honor of 
 humanity be it spoken, they have not often been co- 
 temporaries ; but like other monsters, have appeared 
 singly, and only at rare intervals, in the history of 
 jurisprudence. The " political purpose," for which 
 Impey put Nuncomar unjustly to death, was the safety 
 of Hastings. The judge was his own creature, and 
 the end was procured under his own influence and
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 147 
 
 control, and basely as Impey betrayed his trust, I 
 have never yet learned that the tempted is more crim 
 inal than the tempter. Besides, the argument set 
 forth, in palliation, is precisely the one employed by 
 that ridiculous scarecrow, " Poor Peter Peebles," in 
 the novel of " Red-gauntlet ;" who protested it uncom 
 monly hard, that he should be held amenable in con 
 science, for a most cruel and violent transaction of his 
 more prosperous days, since all the proceedings in the 
 premises were conducted by due course of law. That 
 Hastings felt it for his interest " to crush his accuser," 
 there can be no question. Men too often do such 
 things, we know, and afterwards excuse themselves to 
 their consciences, as well as they are able. Cromwell, 
 under different circumstances, destroyed the adversa 
 ry, who stood between him and his designs ; and for 
 this, of all his acts, the peace of Zimri was upon him 
 to his dying day. But that a writer, professing a high 
 standard of moral sentiment, should sit down delib 
 erately in his study, to justify such an act, on such 
 grounds, impresses one as really something amazing. 
 Revenge and injustice, I trust, are not yet defensible 
 propensities. However our conduct may fall short of 
 our professions, we yet cannot forbear to hold our 
 selves accountable to higher considerations, of what is 
 due to ourselves, to others and to the world 
 
 Else wherefore breathe we in a Christian land ?
 
 148 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 If the accusations of Nuncomar were false, Hastings 
 might Avell have defied them ; if true, the honor of 
 the British character demanded, that he should no 
 longer disgrace his high official station. And to pre 
 tend, that either ruler or citizen, either for policy or 
 security, may murder an open accuser, in order to 
 prevent an investigation into his crimes, is a doctrine 
 as novel in theory, as it would be terribly pernicious 
 in fact. 
 
 But perhaps the crowning infamy of this man s 
 misdeeds was the Rohilla war. It is the less neces 
 sary for me to enlarge on this topic, because in this 
 instance, I believe, all are agreed to give up both 
 Hastings and his country to merited disgrace. But I 
 do not feel myself at liberty to pass it entirely by ; 
 especially as it may help to teach us, how some of 
 those, who, in our day, are still reaping the pecu 
 niary results of this bad enterprise, might find food 
 for decent reflection nearer home, before they wasted 
 such a profusion of cheap philanthropy abroad. The 
 Eohillas were, by far, the most interesting people of 
 India ; brave, intelligent, cultivated, prosperous, hos 
 pitable and happy. They maintained their independ 
 ence by their own courage, and stood secure, under a 
 wise, prudent and paternal government. Their coun 
 try is situated at the westernmost extremity of India, 
 on the frontiers of Persia, separated from Hindostan 
 itself by the river Indus ; and through it runs that
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WAEEEN HASTINGS. 149 
 
 vast range of lofty mountains, which, commencing on 
 the Mediterranean, under the name of Taurus, passes, 
 by various denominations and in various directions, 
 through the whole extent of Asia, to the sea of 
 Okotsk and the Pacific Ocean in the east. It is 
 styled, by an old writer, the " Paradise of the Indies." 
 Agriculture and the arts of peace flourished through 
 out its fertile valleys ; and the whole province pre 
 sented a living realization of those golden days, 
 sometimes found gliding away, in the nooks and 
 corners of the world, to prove that, in elder times, 
 the patriarchal age was not a pastoral fable. With 
 out even the shadow of pretence, the Nabob of Oude, 
 a tributary to the English power, and one of Hast- 
 ings s intrusive governors, conceived the idea of an 
 nexing this rich territory to his dominions. He 
 dared not make the attempt himself, for the Eohillas 
 were warlike and to be feared ; but negotiated with 
 Hastings for assistance. For the sum of ,400,000, 
 and payment of the expenses of the war, Hastings 
 was base enough to lend him the British bayonets. 
 The Rohillas made every eifort to avoid a conflict 
 with the English, with whom they had no quarrel ; 
 but finding it impossible, put themselves upon their 
 best defence. The particulars of the struggle are 
 well worthy the closest attention. Be it enough for 
 me to say, that, after a desperate and bloody contest, 
 13*
 
 150 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 they were overpowered, and given up to the cruel 
 mercies of the cowardly Nabob, who had fled while 
 the combat was yet doubtful. His barbarities were 
 so excessive, that the English officers sent to Hast 
 ings, imploring his interference ; but he coldly de 
 clined to afford either command or advice, there 
 being, as he alleged, no stipulation in the contract, as 
 to the mode of conducting the war. Indeed, the 
 Rohillas seemed to be almost exterminated. But the 
 consequences of evil deeds do not slumber in the 
 dust. The iniquities of the fathers are still visited 
 upon the children, to the third and fourth generation. 
 A scattered remnant of this brave and spirited people 
 again gathered upon their native fastnesses ; and a 
 portion of their descendants, at least, are the same 
 Afghans, who, on the same soil, within the past six 
 or seven years, have taught England some of the 
 most mortifying lessons ever imposed upon her mili 
 tary pride. I shall not undertake here formally to 
 defend the Afghans, or their mode of conducting hos 
 tilities. Much is to be excused to a brave people, 
 battling for their own rights, upon their native soil, 
 against a powerful foe ; especially when, as in the 
 recent instance, the quarrel seems to have been as 
 unreasonably fastened upon them, as in the old time. 
 I suspect, if the truth were told, the invaders had 
 little to boast about. One thing, however, is certain,
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 151 
 
 that while the Afghans, 011 their part, exhibited to 
 the captured ladies of the British officers a species of 
 consideration and generosity, of which no memorials 
 had been preserved for their instruction from the 
 days of Sujah Dowlah, the progress of the invading 
 forces themselves emulated, if it did not surpass, every 
 description of wanton cruelty, which defile the tra 
 ditionary annals of the old Rohilla war. 
 
 I have endeavored, with a few necessary touches, 
 to set forth, sufficiently for the purpose, those scenes, 
 upon which Mr. Macaulay has employed all the gor 
 geous coloring of a vivid fancy and the utmost 
 minuteness of pointed and picturesque detail. I 
 should avoid undertaking to abridge, for recital, the 
 heart-sickening atrocities of Dinagcpore and its sister 
 territories, for perhaps the same reason that they 
 have been omitted by Mr. Macaulay. Besides the 
 extreme horror of their revolting and most unnatural 
 circumstances, upon the narration of this portion of the 
 dreadful story Mr. Burke has expended all the luxu 
 riant resources of his great and fertile mind. It would 
 be difficult to do this subject equal justice with the 
 rest, in the same degree that the language, the sensi 
 bility, the imagination, the comprehensiveness of Mr. 
 Burke, are superior to similar faculties and qualities 
 in any writer, who should attempt to follow him. Be 
 it enough to state, that, in a province comparatively 
 poor, it was a systematic, long-continued and most
 
 152 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 cruel effort, by a relentless agent, under the appoint 
 ment and for the use of Hastings, 
 
 To wring 
 
 From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, 
 
 executed with a dogged and perverse brutality, from 
 which the very soul recoils almost incredulous, and 
 pursued, until every human pore, in the ill-fated ter 
 ritory, ran purple with the blood of agony ; until age 
 and infancy, and the shame and sensitiveness of 
 woman, shrank from the demons, who denied the 
 nature of their own species, and laid themselves 
 down in the jungle of the tiger and the hyena, rather 
 than any longer endure the more savage intimacy of 
 man. Whoever desires to recur more particularly to 
 the voluminous materials, upon this subject, will find 
 them fearfully set forth, in the fifth and sixth days 
 speech of Mr. Burke, at the opening of the impeach 
 ment. 
 
 These are but a few of the more marked and open 
 exemplifications of the nature of British rule in India, 
 during the last century. The infinite excesses and 
 abuses, attributable to private corruption, it would be 
 impossible to specify. The world has often wondered 
 at the slow progress of the Christian religion in that 
 region, and the apparently fruitless issue of mission 
 ary labors ; and it has spoken of the impenetrable 
 prejudices of the Hindoos, which, like threefold 
 armor, rendered them alike indifferent to the spir-
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 153 
 
 itual sword, whether wielded by Jesuit or Church 
 man ; whether the standard of the Cross was unfurled, 
 upon the ramparts of Portuguese bigotry, or waved, 
 where the doctrines, of which it was the sign, were 
 enforced and illustrated by the more generous enthu 
 siasm of a Heber or a Schwartz. But the early 
 preachers of Christianity and their immediate suc 
 cessors, through difficulties and dangers now un 
 known, were able to overcome the most inveterate 
 and diverse prejudices. The apostolic staff, if not 
 always available for personal defence, was still their 
 rod of support and comfort, as they traversed the, 
 most distant and inhospitable corners of the world. 
 Upon stony places, by the way-side and among thorns, 
 they flung the scattered seed ; amidst the heritage of 
 Ishmael, along the Idumean road, and through this 
 very India, into countries still more remote, where 
 all traces of the specific worship have long since been 
 swallowed up in the vortex of revolutions. As a 
 curious and interesting exemplification of their prim 
 itive successes, the golden candlestick which they set 
 up still glimmers, with a feeble light indeed, amidst 
 the darkness of Ethiopia ; and from the wild ranges 
 of Kurdistan a Nestorian Bishop was, not long since, 
 in this land, manifesting something of the traditionary 
 simplicity of the ancient and original Church. But 
 the truth is, the Hindoos had no sort of reasonable 
 motive presented for their conversion. They were
 
 154 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 able to distinguish, to compare and to see. If they 
 heard or read that precept of the Gospel, which, prop 
 erly understood, lies at the very foundation of all 
 Christian morality, which forbids us, as a chief good, 
 to " lay up unto ourselves treasures upon earth,"- 
 they had only to look about them and observe their 
 Christian exemplars absolutely intent upon nothing 
 else, and to this end devoting the whole energies and 
 spirit of their lives. We know that commercial inter 
 course, governed by honorable principles and dignified 
 and alleviated by higher considerations, is a useful, a 
 necessary and a noble pursuit. But, unfortunately, 
 the admitted standard of worldly morality is obviously 
 far beneath the perfection of the divine requisition ; 
 and practices and principles pass more than current 
 in the daily intercourse of society, which cannot be 
 reconciled with the plainest obligations of duty. So 
 thoroughly has the world settled the conditions of its 
 law in opposition to the law of God, that the ordinary 
 morals of business are too commonly anything but 
 Christian morals. It is to be doubted, whether the 
 moral conduct of Christendom compares favorably, in 
 this respect, with that of many heathen nations. It 
 is this fatal discrepancy between our professions and 
 our practice, which unfits commerce to be the mis 
 sionary of religion. As well expect Shylock to be 
 converted by Antonio and to anticipate the propaga 
 tion of the Gospel amongst the simplest, much more
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 155 
 
 amongst an intelligent and acute people, by means 
 like these, would be as reasonable, as to look amidst 
 the gray shadows, of the western horizon, on a wintry 
 evening, for the matchless splendors of the summer 
 dawn. If this be true, as a general rule, what success 
 ful progress could Christianity expect from a system 
 like that of India, where all was fraud, all corrup 
 tion, all cruelty, treachery and plunder ? It resulted 
 from these causes, no doubt, that the hopes of many 
 were disappointed, because the influence and efforts 
 of the English in China recently failed to exert any 
 favorable tendency towards its civilization and con 
 version ; and will still fail, thus presented, though 
 medicined with 
 
 poppy or mandragora, 
 
 Or all the drowsy syrups of the world. 
 
 Indeed the refinements of civilization itself, if it be 
 not elevated and controlled by a more spiritual power, 
 seem to me to be, in reality, worse than the worst of 
 all barbarisms. I cannot assent to the soundness of 
 a much admired philosophical sentiment of Mr. 
 Burke, (and it is not often that I should undertake to 
 find fault with his philosophy) that " vice loses half 
 its evil, by losing all its grossness." Mr. Burke was 
 misled, by looking at vice abstractly, instead of by 
 examples. A painted harlot may be, perhaps, more 
 attractive, but is she less dangerous than her equal, in 
 rags? The war-club of the African savage, which
 
 156 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 can be seen and avoided, is better than the stiletto of 
 the more polished, but no less inherent barbarian, 
 which secretly penetrates to the life. The soul of the 
 untutored Indian, upon our Western prairies, true to 
 all it has felt and known, is infinitely superior to the 
 corrupt heart, that beat amidst all the splendid and 
 hollow magnificence of the Roman Court. It is pre 
 ferable that the mind should remain ignorant, and be 
 so less potent for mischief, unless the heart becomes 
 more and more purified, at every point of advance 
 ment in knowledge. It is impious to anticipate, that 
 Heaven will favor the accomplishment of a good end, 
 by evil means. Providence, no doubt, may interpose, 
 to prevent the consequences of crime ; and leaving men 
 equally responsible for their wicked purposes, may, in 
 the exercise of supreme wisdom, benevolence and 
 power, turn them all into an occasion of good. But 
 this is the prerogative of God, and of Him alone ! 
 So far as we have reason to know, Providence does 
 not see fit to encourage any hope of cooperation in 
 our actions, unless they are prompted by commend 
 able motives. For example and for punishment, it 
 permits the natural return of those rewards, linked 
 to our misdeeds by chains of inextricable adamant. 
 Every principle of wisdom, every condition of moral 
 necessity, requires the exercise of virtue for the 
 attainment of virtuous ends. They afford us no war 
 rant for supposing, that anything but evil can come
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 157 
 
 out of evil, or that eventual benefit can be derived 
 from anything but that which is in itself good. Our 
 duty is, to be wise, prudent, virtuous, according to 
 the measure of our capacity and opportunity ; and we 
 cannot safely say, that we will leave the consequences 
 of our conduct to a higher Power, unless we have 
 some good reason to be persuaded, that our motives 
 and actions are in themselves right. 
 
 Indeed, the very spirit and constitution of Chris 
 tianity forbid that we should expect such results, as 
 have been anticipated, in India and China. Its first 
 principle is Peace how can you, therefore, propa 
 gate it with the sword ! The very element of its 
 system is Love ; why should you, therefore, enforce it, 
 with all the fiery malignity of hate ? 
 
 I have left myself little space to remark upon the 
 subsequent fortunes of Hastings. The conduct of 
 affairs in India and the outrages of his administration 
 had been, for several years, the subject of bitter dis 
 pute, at the Court of Directors and in the House of 
 Commons. Although all tilings in England are more 
 or less influenced by political bias, yet, in this instance, 
 men, for a time, overleaped the barriers of faction. 
 After an indignant vote of censure upon his conduct, 
 in the House, it was resolved that he ought to be 
 recalled. Soon after his return he was impeached ; 
 and the world has long rung with the fame of the 
 celebrated orations of Burke, Sheridan and Fox, 
 14
 
 158 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 before that high tribunal, more august, it would seem, 
 than competent, which sat in judgment upon his mis 
 deeds. It has often occurred to my own mind, that, 
 if Hastings could have been brought to the bar, for 
 any single one of his many outrages, the general 
 sense of humanity and justice, which governs deliber 
 ative proceedings in Great Britain, would have easily 
 insured his condemnation and exemplary punishment. 
 But the very multitude of his offences seems to 
 bewilder and fatigue the attention ; and the mind 
 instinctively shrinks from believing, that any human 
 being has been really denied by such a complication 
 of crimes. In him, it was a successive series of 
 transactions, extending over a considerable space of 
 time, and the traces of each separate enormity were 
 obliterated, in his passive conscience, by the footsteps 
 of its rapid successors ; to us it is presented, as one 
 vast and confused accumulation of horrors, from 
 which we recoil incredulous, and are only too happy 
 to escape their scrutiny. 
 
 For various reasons the trial was protracted, for a 
 period of nearly eight years. In the mean time, vast 
 changes had taken place. New political interests had 
 sprung up. In regard to certain of them, several of 
 the old opponents of Hastings had been irrevocably 
 alienated from each other. Some of these had 
 become connected with the ministry, which now took 
 open sides with the Ex-Governor-general. "Wherever
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 159 
 
 art, influence, or money could avail with the press, 
 the people or the parliament, they had been most 
 zealously employed in his behalf. Public emotion 
 had become very considerably allayed, and weariness 
 had taken the place of indignation. Of the large 
 body of peers, who sat in judgment at his impeach 
 ment, nearly one half had been themselves summoned 
 to a higher tribunal. At the final judgment upon the 
 charges, many of the Lords absented themselves ; and 
 of about two hundred, then composing their body, 
 only twenty-nine voted at all. Upon the vote of a 
 majority of these he was eventually acquitted, in 
 terms, by a singular sentence, which required him to 
 pay more than X 70,000, as a part of the costs of pros 
 ecution. If he were innocent, this was an unjust ex 
 action, if guilty, an infamous compromise. I am 
 sorry to say that several of the most eminent in place, 
 of the " spiritual Lords," voted for his acquittal, while 
 amongst the " Lords temporal," who declared them 
 selves for his condemnation, is to be observed, together 
 with the names of others less known to us, that of 
 the late venerable Earl Fitzwilliam, ever after distin 
 guished for the unsullied integrity of his character, 
 and the manly nobleness of his life. Whatever the 
 offences of Hastings might have been, his administra 
 tion of Indian affairs had added immense sums to the 
 public revenues and the private fortunes of England ; 
 and the estates of the wealthy aristocracy, of both
 
 160 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 Houses, had been benefited, in many instances, directly 
 or indirectly, by his means. His escape, therefore, 
 was inevitable, for interest, not justice, held the un 
 equal scale. 
 
 But the main immediate impediment to the rightful 
 discovery of truth, upon this great occasion, was the 
 determination, with which the Lords fettered them 
 selves, that their investigations should be governed by 
 the rules of evidence practised upon in the English 
 Courts of Law. If it were becoming to say so, the 
 absurdity, as well as the hindrance unavoidably occa 
 sioned by this resolution, must have pressed upon 
 every step of their deliberations. This system of 
 rules, in its own place, is not only wise and salutary, 
 but absolutely essential to the despatch of business. 
 It is necessary, both for the promotion of public justice 
 and the security of private right. These rules are 
 the result of great experience and sagacity. In the 
 natural impossibility of framing such as could prove 
 of universal application, their observance may often 
 tend to the advantage of the criminal, and may some 
 times save him from the just consequences of his 
 crimes. But the enforcement of precision here is 
 equally beneficial to the public, and the parties, inter 
 ested in the event of each particular proceeding. To 
 the public, because, without it, business would become 
 embarrassed, trials interminable, law much more 
 expensive, justice much more uncertain. To the
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 161 
 
 party, because it secures him the assistance of com 
 petent persons, who have been led to investigate his 
 rights and who know the strength of the defences, by 
 which he is justly encircled and protected. At first 
 sight, it may seem, for instance, a sort of refinement, 
 to one who has not reflected on the subject, that a 
 person, believed to have committed a capital offence, 
 should be liable to be put on trial but once for his 
 life. Yet when it is considered, that every man 
 ought to have his offence clearly set before him, in 
 order that he may meet it, if he can ; and that, for 
 the same reason, lie ought to be proved guilty of that 
 specific offence, before he shall be convicted, it will 
 be seen, that, while the public and the accused arc 
 saved from the burthen of repeated prosecutions, the 
 accuracy of the proceedings, in every particular 
 instance, is made of the greatest interest and conse 
 quence to all. And experience approves the wisdom 
 of the theory. And it might be matter of grave 
 reflection to some of our innovating law-givers, that, 
 in fact, the subversion of substantial justice and the 
 insecurity of legal rights will be always in exact pro 
 portion to that looseness of practice, which they have 
 been so anxious to introduce. 
 
 But the matter, which we have been considering, 
 
 was of a widely different nature. An Impeachment 
 
 is an event of rare occurrence. Besides this, no 
 
 instance had been known, in the experience of any of 
 
 14*
 
 162 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 the parties engaged upon the occasion in question. 
 The accused was one, by his position, constituted the 
 vicegerent of a Power, by whom kings reign, upon 
 the broad principles of moral government, recognized 
 and applicable, wherever the sun witnesses the beauty 
 and excellence of his daily providence. The offences, 
 with which he was charged, were crimes as well 
 against the moral sentiments of mankind, as in 
 defiance of the express provisions of the law. His 
 accuser was the voice of humanity itself, which for 
 fourteen years had echoed in the ears of his country 
 men, across the vast ocean, which separates Asia from 
 Europe. The tribunal, at which he was arraigned, 
 was rather patriarchal than judicial in its functions ; 
 itself the source of all legislation and the supreme 
 arbiter of right ; and though, of course, amenable to 
 the external law, yet in its own sphere, subject to no 
 rules, except that wise discretion, with which the pru 
 dent and just man dispenses government to his own 
 household. Much of the testimony was of that moral 
 weight, which always avails and is enough, in the 
 ordinary transactions, the intercourse and the busi 
 ness of society. The lookers on, in the great spec 
 tacle, were the civilized and the uncivilized world, all 
 competent to determine upon the universal character 
 istics of inhumanity, oppression and fraud, without 
 confining themselves within those narrow limits of 
 construction, held requisite at the Old Bailey or Petty
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 163 
 
 Sessions, in order to convict some half-starved culprit, 
 of a breach of the game-laws, or half a shilling s 
 worth of larceny. 
 
 Besides his most questionable services to his coun 
 try s cause, (if that cause be such as honor and in 
 tegrity may fairly sanction,) and his unprincipled 
 extension of English jurisdiction by fraud and vio 
 lence, not by wisdom, there are, after all, two points 
 in the character of Hastings, to which Mr. Macaulay 
 directs his reader s attention. All personages, distin 
 guished as he was, are known, of course, by certain 
 marked characteristics of fortune and disposition. I 
 venture to predict, that few would have been likely, 
 in this relation, to hit, as Mr. Macaulay has done, 
 upon the " want of rapacity" on the part of Hastings, 
 and his " honorable poverty !" He asserts the Gov 
 ernor-general not to have been rapacious, because 
 the whole sum and substance of his extortions were 
 not devoted to his own individual benefit. But this 
 was manifestly a thing impossible. Besides, there 
 can be nothing more fallacious, than this mode of 
 reasoning. In fact, few men care for money for itself 
 alone. The character of a mere miser is as rare, as it 
 is imamiablc. The state of miserhood itself is as 
 much a disease of the mind, as any of the other un 
 fortunate hallucinations, to which human nature is 
 subject. But men, in general, struggle for wealth, 
 to secure the purposes of their pleasures and the grat-
 
 164 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 ification of their passions ; for ambition, reputation, 
 power ; for the interest of their families, or to secure 
 comfort for their own declining years ; in short, to 
 serve some kind of ulterior object, which the mere 
 possession of wealth unemployed does not and cannot 
 answer. Hastings knew that he could sustain him 
 self in power, only by gratifying the cupidity of those 
 who placed him there ; and that he could eventually 
 advance his personal objects, only by the same means. 
 Mr. Macaulay excuses him, because, although he 
 seized, without cavil, upon all the money he could 
 grasp, he did not see fit to appropriate the whole to 
 his own individual use ; and urges, that he might 
 have returned with a fortune, surpassing that of any 
 crowned head in Europe. But Mr. Hastings was 
 apparently wiser, in his day and generation, than to 
 attempt any such quixotical undertaking. If he had 
 done so, he would never have escaped condemnation. 
 He remembered that he had other objects ; that his 
 conduct was closely scrutinized ; that he had many 
 and powerful adversaries, both in Europe and Asia ; 
 that he had been already, in effect, once displaced for 
 abuses ; that he had finally been summoned home 
 from his government ; that, in any event, in all likeli 
 hood, he would be called to strict private, if not public 
 reckoning upon his return ; that any flagrant and 
 undisguised guilt, of this character, would deprive 
 him of his only means of exculpation ; that it would
 
 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 165 
 
 be more easily appreciable by his judges, less readily 
 excusable by his immediate employers, since such a 
 dazzling accumulation of plunder could have been 
 kept for his own use, only at their expense ; and he 
 contented himself with bringing home a fortune of 
 only several hundred thousand pounds ! His lady, 
 indeed, had acquired a large additional and private 
 treasure, by the same justifiable means, without his 
 connivance, says Mr. Macaulay, but this could hardly 
 be. His "honorable poverty" had been endured in 
 India, during fourteen years, on a salary of 25,000, 
 besides great opportunities. Moderation is undoubt 
 edly a noble and an honorable quality ; but I should 
 hardly think of claiming it for that man, as a special 
 virtue, who, having the chance presented of filling 
 all his pockets with other people s money, contents 
 himself with filling only one, on account of the diffi 
 culty of carrying the whole safely away. The bulk 
 of the mutual acquisitions of Hastings and his lady 
 was finally expended in conciliatory presents, and in 
 the preparation for and conduct of the defence. His 
 affairs fell into some confusion, and he was assisted 
 with loans by the Company, who settled upon him 
 eventually a sufficient pension. He regained his pa 
 ternal estate of Daylesford, but the title was never 
 revived in his favor. As one of the most striking 
 instances, 011 record, of the caprice and injustice of 
 popular opinion ; when he was summoned to the bar
 
 166 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 of the Commons, in 1813, to give evidence relative to 
 Indian affairs, the House, (that is, the successors of 
 those, who once tried and virtually convicted him of 
 high crimes and misdemeanors) rose and stood un 
 covered in his presence. Supposing him to have been 
 only the doubtful character, which the most favorable 
 history claims, it was to their indelible disgrace. 
 Some of his old antagonists were still there. They 
 pulled their hats over their brows, and kept their 
 places. 
 
 It seems to have been matter of much occasional 
 speculation in England, what were the real motives, 
 which induced Mr. Burke to take so deep an interest 
 in this great question, and to maintain, in regard to 
 it, a position of such uncompromising and determined 
 perseverance ; or, to state the question in the only 
 shape, which could make wonder on this subject jus 
 tifiable, for 
 
 what stranger cause yet unexplored, 
 
 so good a man as Mr. Burke could pursue with such 
 unrelenting indignation so good a man as Mr. Has 
 tings ! I pass by the fact, that Sheridan and Fox, 
 and others of high name, men of minds less pure and 
 principles less sound than his, were with him, to a 
 greater or less degree, in the progress of the prose 
 cution. I omit also the consideration of the point, 
 that a similar question, with all its attendant circum 
 stances, seldom, if ever, has so forced itself upon the
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 167 
 
 attention of mankind. Private hostility and a hun 
 dred other inadequate, improbable and unfounded 
 motives have been suggested, to account for a course 
 of conduct, which resulted from the clear qualities of 
 Burke s character, and which lies upon the surface of 
 the facts involved in the case. To the investigation 
 of these he himself avers, that he brought the scrutiny, 
 the reflection and the devoted and untiring labor of 
 many years. 
 
 From all these supererogatory imputations Mr. 
 Macaulay handsomely justifies him. He eloquently 
 alleges that great man s intimate acquaintance with 
 the history, government,. manners, and all the public 
 and private relations of the Asiatics. He supposes 
 him to have been actuated only by the highest, the 
 purest and most honorable considerations ; but sug 
 gests the kind of coloring, with which his imagination 
 invested the subject-matter, which he had so much at 
 heart. The real question is, whether the Grand In 
 quest, thus summoned to serious duty, in the mind of 
 Mr. Burke, did, in fact, " present things truly." And, 
 indeed, this appears to have been the actual purpose, 
 for which this much-abused faculty, this misunder 
 stood imagination, was made part and parcel of the 
 human character ; to exhibit the distant, the past and 
 the future, things in which we have the highest 
 interest, though they are remote and invisible, in 
 their true aspect of real and absolute existences.
 
 168 ME. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 Without it, to some reasonable extent, heaven and 
 hell, the absent and the lost, would be to us indeed 
 unmeaning and most unsubstantial incomprehensibil 
 ities. The enjoyment of this faculty, unalloyed by 
 selfishness or any baser interest or bias, enabled Mr. 
 Burke to see things, precisely as they were to be ap 
 prehended by the mind, rather than the senses ; to 
 grasp the true character and bearing of events in 
 India, just as if they had occurred at his own fireside. 
 Xo doubt, it is the want of this quality, in some meas 
 ure, which leaves men at a loss to account for the 
 influences, which enabled him to see and to tell the 
 truth. And it was this want, to a certain extent, 
 combined with the thousand other easily-understood 
 considerations, which led to the final discharge of 
 Hastings. It is felt, as a great misfortune, sometimes, 
 that criminals should escape, through the interests of 
 men, or their incapacity rightly to appreciate what 
 the purity of justice would require. But, in fact, if 
 there were no Mr. Burkes in the world, or men of 
 similar, if inferior characteristics, such persons would 
 always escape, except so far as interest, vengeance, or 
 some other private passion pursued them to doom. 
 To cultivate and honor this qiiality, therefore, to every 
 reasonable degree, would seem to be a sort of neces 
 sity of society, in order to raise and support what in 
 it is low. For, as observation will teach us, that the 
 mind of the individual man, when entirely devoid of
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS, 169 
 
 imagination, scarcely comes up to the nobler instincts 
 of many inferior animals, so society, without a due 
 intermixture of this temperament, by a certain nat- 
 ural and necessary consequence, becomes corrupted, 
 degraded, selfish, " earthly, sensual, devilish." For 
 imagination is the handmaid of reason, as woman is 
 the helpmeet of man, and neither is capable of be 
 ing compared with the other, upon any definite clas 
 sification of their respective attributes ; but the one 
 continually serves the purpose of opening new vistas 
 of immortal prospect, outside of the ordinary range 
 of merely sensible thought, as the other equally in 
 spires emotions, tending to the essential elevation of 
 the human character, and which, otherwise, would lie 
 sunken and undiscovered in the depths of the natural 
 being. 
 
 I have spoken of the public history of Hastings, in 
 a manner only too fully warranted by the ample 
 evidence on record. It occurred to me to take up 
 the subject in some detail, partly, because an arti 
 cle like that of Mr. Macaulay appeared capable of 
 effecting considerable mischief, and partly, because I 
 conceived it not inappropriate to the times to show, 
 that all the sin of the world did not rest upon the 
 consciences of the American people ; and that, al 
 though it affords no apology for our own offences, 
 yet, considering the extent and nature of the ex 
 cesses committed, at no very distant period, in Asia, 
 15
 
 170 MB. MACAULAY ON WARRPJN HASTINGS. 
 
 and excused if not approved by the legislative author 
 ity of England, the people of that country are not 
 perhaps so much entitled, as if their skirts were clear, 
 to fold their broad phylactericd robes about them, 
 and to stalk away, justified, as if from some unholy 
 contact. 
 
 And I do not admit the validity of the kind of 
 defence, which is pretended to be set up for Hastings, 
 by those who would palliate his conduct. A bad 
 man may be made the instrument of bringing about 
 some good, but yet he is a bad man. He, who with 
 the power of doing unlimited evil, carries it only 
 partly into execution, of course, is deserving of less 
 severe condemnation, than one who is utterly and 
 irretrievably depraved. But, in truth, the world 
 affords very few examples of such monsters, for 
 whom there is no means of urging some possibility of 
 extenuation ; and I know not where to look for them, 
 unless, perhaps, under the Roman Empire, amongst 
 several of the more tiger-like than human successors 
 to the Julian purple. Yet if, on the tomb of Nero, 
 some imknown hand strewed flowers, it ought not to 
 surprise us, that apologists should be found for the 
 enormities of Warren Hastings. In our moral judg 
 ment of men, since we are all only too frail and 
 liable to temptation and error, it is surely becoming 
 to exercise every reasonable degree of charity and 
 fair interpretation. But when we cannot help per-
 
 MB. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 171 
 
 caiving an immense preponderance of evil, and that 
 good or bad conduct alike are pursued only for sel 
 fish ends, it Avould be something more than weakness 
 to bring to it either palliation or defence. 
 
 " His principles," admits Mr. Macaulay, " were 
 somewhat lax. His heart was somewhat hard. We 
 cannot with truth describe him either as a righteous 
 or a merciful ruler. Those who look on 
 
 his character without favor or malevolence, will pro 
 nounce, that, in the two great elements of all social 
 virtue, in respect for the rights of others and in 
 sympathy for the sufferings of others, he was de 
 ficient." One would think that this were enough ! 
 Unprincipled and hard-hearted, unrighteous and un 
 merciful ! Regardless of other men s rights and un- 
 pitying towards their calamities ! And being thus 
 apparently out of the pale of those ordinary and 
 necessary attributes of our nature, which both human 
 and divine requirement make essential to a man, 
 much more to a ruler, he did not deserve, at least 
 the kind of article, in which he has been incidentally 
 eulogized by Mr. Macaulay. 
 
 To allege him to have been a statesman, in any 
 just sense of the language, appears to me to be absurd. 
 His successes, such as they were, may be sufficiently 
 accounted for, on other principles. " The world," 
 remarks Dr. Johnson, " has been long amused by the 
 mention of policy in public transactions, and of art,
 
 172 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 in private affairs ; they have been considered as the 
 real effects of great qualities, and as unattainable by 
 men of the common level. Yet I have not found 
 many performances, either of art or policy, that re 
 quired such stupendous efforts of intellect, as might 
 not have been effected by falsehood and impudence, 
 without the assistance of any other powers." What 
 the best of statesmen arc, upon the recognized prin 
 ciples of society, involves a definition of qualities, to 
 which there is no parallel in the character we have 
 been considering. He is no more entitled to the 
 distinction of this name, than the other unprincipled 
 and unscrupulous tyrants, who spread dominion over 
 the defenceless by conquest, who awe the weak by 
 power, and extend empire by violence, and are great, 
 only because they are successful. What a statesman 
 ought to be, it might perhaps, in these days, appear 
 somewhat invidious to inquire. In England, to re 
 gard the interest, to maintain the liberty, to promote 
 the happiness of all classes of his countrymen ; to be 
 less ambitious of foreign conquest, than of contented 
 peace at home ; to uphold justice, that first great law 
 of earth and heaven ; to encourage moderation, to 
 repress jealousies, and by reasonable concession, to 
 avert impending revolution in India, if Provi 
 dence had called him to preside over the destinies of 
 infinite millions of mankind, by a liberal wisdom 
 and a wholesome integrity ; by the maintenance of
 
 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 173 
 
 those virtues, which men are bound to practise ; by 
 the exhibition of principles, whose acknowledged 
 theory our conduct denies ; by proving that truths of 
 more than momentary importance weigh somewhat 
 upon our minds ; to show that we are indeed desirous 
 of promoting instead of impeding the great purposes, 
 for which the Almighty created and sustains the 
 world, the welfare and happiness of all his crea 
 tures 
 
 Th applause of listening senates to command, 
 The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
 
 To scatter plenty o er a smiling land, 
 And read their history in a nation s eyes. 
 
 And, if we are told, that this is only ideal, never 
 heard of in Calcutta, never dreamed about in Down 
 ing Street, or at Washington, it is only because 
 Truth has become ideal, through the corruptions and 
 abominations of political machinations ; because mod 
 ern usages have converted things, in their origin 
 good, into the worst of evils ; have debased politics, 
 from being the noblest of sciences, into the meanest of 
 arts ; have made government a treachery and diplo 
 macy a fraud. 
 
 Indeed, I am acquainted with no stronger in 
 stance, than the one thus presented, of the danger 
 of reposing great trusts in the hands of men, whose 
 minds have neither been subdued by religion, nor 
 disciplined and controlled by learning. For while 
 15*
 
 174 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 true religion tends to the repression of all false am 
 bition, true learning elevates and directs that which 
 is purest, by storing the mind with the generous and 
 honorable precepts of those who have gone before. 
 Besides discouraging the emotions of interest and 
 vanity, it sets before us the highest examples of truth 
 and virtue ; and he would be least likely to corrupt 
 the manners or pervert the liberties of his country, 
 who enters upon the scene of his duties, from the 
 company of philosophers, orators and sages, and all 
 who have best illustrated whatever is noble, disinter 
 ested and dignified in the character of man. 
 
 And yet Mr. Macaulay, in language both touching 
 and beautiful, deplores that the dust, which Hastings 
 had dishonored, did not find its last repose under the 
 cloistered arches of Westminster Abbey ! And though 
 a life of crime, even in high places, would seem de 
 serving of no better doom than a death of infamy, and 
 though Jezebel, (to use one of those scriptural illus 
 trations, to which Mr. Macaulay is so partial) even a 
 king s daughter, was eaten by dogs in the portion of 
 Jezreel yet, in this temple of silence and recon 
 ciliation he would build a trophy to the memory of 
 Hastings : to point out to the ingenuous youth of 
 England, how a bad man, under the sanction of the 
 Church itself, can be honored in his monument, when 
 honors are useless, except as instructions to the 
 living ; to teach them. that, iSpartan-like, they may
 
 MB. MACAULAY ON WAEREN HASTINGS. 175 
 
 steal, if, with a high hand and an unblushing front, 
 they secure success in their villany ; to confound the 
 difference, never too broadly marked, in human eyes, 
 between virtue and vice ; to draw a veil of still more 
 impenetrable darkness, before that light, never too 
 effulgent, through a worldly medium, which helps us 
 to discriminate between right and wrong ! 
 
 Had he really been admitted into that sublime 
 sanctuary of philosophers, heroes and poets, where, 
 side by side, sleep the rulers of England, each one in 
 his own place, he might indeed have been welcomed 
 by much society, well enough suited to such a guest, 
 the Tudor and the Plantagenet, the stern Edwards 
 and the fierce Henries, and if equal merit had 
 forever met with equal reward, amid the silence and 
 nothingness, where all men finally sleep together in 
 the grave, he might there have lain down in company 
 with the grasping and perfidious John, the bloody 
 Mary, Richard, the crafty usurper, and him, per 
 haps, the worst, whose brutal and unmanly tyranny 
 neither learning softened nor religion restrained, 
 and all they from beneath might have been moved to 
 meet him at his coming ! But if the guardians of the 
 temple have no privilege to exclude delinquent royalty 
 from its precincts, they might well scruple at affording 
 such a consummation to the obsequies of Hastings. 
 If much that is unworthy necessarily reposes in those 
 solemn shadows ; if they who are there, were not free
 
 176 MR. MACAULAY ON WARREN HASTINGS. 
 
 from the errors, the failings, the vices of men, at 
 least, it is well they should be such, that the first sug 
 gestion of their names, the first aspect of their mau 
 soleums should associate itself with something that is 
 honorable, agreeable or praiseworthy, in the history 
 of mankind. But there, where the first promptings 
 of an ambition, commendable if it had been generous, 
 dawned upon his youthful mind, there, where, after 
 the lapse of more than three quarters of a century > 
 his somewhat frivolous old age submitted to the " in 
 evitable hour," let him, who desires to honor the 
 memory of Hastings, bend over his tomb, in silence 
 and alone, amidst the solitary obscurity of the chancel 
 of Daylesford.
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 BEFORE THE 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL, BOSTON, 
 MAY 15, 1845. 
 
 MR. PRESIDENT, AND GENTLEMEN OF THE SOCIETY : 
 
 IT is a touching, and to some of you, perhaps, 
 familiar incident, which is related of a celebrated 
 English traveller,* whose genius and misfortunes 
 have long closely allied him with every human sym 
 pathy. He had penetrated the interior solitudes of 
 Africa, in pursuance of his first adventurous research 
 es into that distant and mysterious land. He was in 
 the midst of the vast deserts of a barbarous clime, 
 hundreds of miles away from the very outskirts of 
 civilization, and surrounded on every side by the 
 beasts of the wilderness, and by men scarcely less 
 ferocious. He had suffered every privation and every 
 ill. He was alone in the dismal waste, with a worn 
 and failing body and a sinking mind. It was while 
 
 * Park.
 
 178 DEDICATION OF HOETICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 the chance of life appeared a thing almost too hope 
 less for conjecture, and a thousand natural emotions 
 thronged upon his soul ; while the present seemed to 
 crowd into its narrow hour the accumulated memories 
 of all the past, and offered him but the prospect of a 
 miserable death upon the barren sands, for the home 
 which he had left with such eager and buoyant ex 
 pectations, and the loved and lovely things he might 
 behold no more it was at this moment of desponden 
 cy and distress, that an object caught his eye, which, 
 perhaps, from the heedless or the happy, would 
 scarcely have attracted a passing glance. It was a 
 small moss, of extraordinary beauty, in the process of 
 germination ; and, as he contemplated the delicate 
 conformation of its roots and leaves, the thought 
 forced itself irresistibly upon his mind, that the same 
 bountiful and eternal Providence, which protected 
 this minute but lovely object in obscurity so com 
 plete, and in the region of perpetual barrenness, 
 could not be unmindful of one of his intelligent be 
 ings, the highest in the scale of natural creation, for" 
 whose use and benefit the system of visible nature 
 was itself ordained. It was the reflection thus sug 
 gested which banished his despair, and nerved his 
 heart to those renewed efforts, which secured his 
 eventual return to his native land. 
 
 There could be no more striking illustration than 
 this, of the benevolent order of the universe ; which
 
 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 179 
 
 so often vindicates itself under circumstances appar 
 ently fortuitous, by demonstrating the purpose and 
 value of those things, whose utility a cold philosophy 
 had endeavored to discover in vain. It were, indeed, 
 too much to say, that the minutest atom which floats 
 in infinite space, or the meanest flower that blows 
 upon the bosom of nature, has been created for no 
 valuable end. If the purposes of existence were less 
 than they really arc, in the eye of reason and enlight 
 ened philosophy, we might have been subjected to a 
 -very different constitution of outward things. To 
 surround us merely with those objects, which might 
 minister to our actual necessities, were to deprive our 
 senses themselves of their very noblest attributes, and 
 to contract within the narrowest limits the circle of 
 our capacities and desires. Take from us, indeed, 
 those lovely manifestations of external beauty ; those 
 sweet, and graceful and glorious creations, which 
 tend much more, perhaps, to the promotion of our 
 present happiness, as well as to the perfection of our 
 immortal destiny, than all which the world counts 
 most worthy of its pursuit, and our minds were 
 dark, and our hearts dead within us, instead of kin 
 dling with the glowing earth, as, radiant with bright 
 ness and beauty, she smiles to meet the embraces of 
 the returning Spring. 
 
 The very savage, indeed, must derive some moral 
 elevation from the contemplation of external nature.
 
 180 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 For his untutored soul, as well as for the mind of the 
 most cultivated student of the works of creation , that 
 orient pavilion, flushed with a thousand gorgeous and 
 shifting hues, from whose refulgent portals issue the 
 outgoings of the morning ; the deepening loveliness of 
 that softer heaven, which ushers universal nature to 
 repose ; the changing year, as its advancing seasons 
 ripen into mellower beauty; yes, all and each, with 
 in the rudest recesses of the primeval wilderness, as 
 well as amidst the refinements of a more polished 
 condition of life, in their turn have given wing to a 
 sublimer imagination, have widened the sphere of in 
 tellectual exertion, and dignified the reflections and as 
 pirations of the moral being. The Indian maiden, who 
 decks her jetty tresses with the wild flowers plucked 
 by the margin of the forest brook, drinks in from them 
 the same images of grace, fragility and beauty, which 
 they are fitted to inspire in the proudest bosom that 
 beats in regal halls ; where every silken tint that art 
 has curiously embroidered, and every radiant gleam 
 that glitters from clustered gems, were incomplete 
 without these simpler charms, furnished by the cheap 
 provision of nature, yet more resplendent in their 
 freshness, than the array of Solomon in all his glory ! 
 But if such be the universal influence of natural 
 beauty ; if over even the soul of a barbarian it exerts 
 this inborn power to charm the imagination and ele 
 vate the mind ; surely, amidst the hourly cares, which
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTUKAL HALL. 181 
 
 in more civilized life press upon the hearts of men, 
 they can find no relief so easily attained, and, at the 
 same time, so refreshing and salutary, as the contem 
 plation of those lovely things, which our common 
 mother, for the common use and entertainment of 
 her children, hangs sparkling with dew-drops upon 
 every tree, or flings with bounteous profusion over 
 her luxuriant bosom. 
 
 Whoever enters upon the attentive examination of 
 these objects, in the spirit of rational philosophy, will 
 be certain to attain a reward at least commensurate 
 with his exertions ;. for, if it acquire him no other pos 
 session, it cannot but bring him that priceless one, of 
 an innocent heart and a gentle mind ; and a student 
 of nature, who should become sensual and debased, 
 would present as strange an anomaly as an undevout 
 astronomer. 
 
 Indeed, the constitution of the mind itself is im 
 bued with the spirit of love for natural beauty. 
 And sad were his lot, who has so entirely lost this 
 impress originally stamped by the hand of God upon 
 the soul of man, who is so thoroughly " of the earth, 
 earthy," as to have forfeited all conscious enjoyment 
 of the glorious creation around him, crowned by every 
 revolving season with its own peculiar magnificence 
 and beauty. Of the tendency of many of the great 
 pursuits of life to render us sordid and selfish, if 
 they are modified by no controlling influence, the fact 
 J6
 
 182 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 is only too apparent. The very refinements of our 
 social being corrupt as well as polish. The human 
 character insensibly dwindles amidst the pursuits of 
 civilized society. The range of our feelings becomes 
 contracted under the weight of the conventionalisms 
 of life. The sphere of thought itself grows narrower, 
 in the plodding routine of daily occupations. Con 
 fined amongst the converging thoroughfares of popu 
 lous existence, the man becomes almost necessarily 
 assimilated, in thought and habit, to those with whom 
 he is associated. He unconsciously conforms, and 
 often degrades his being by conforming, to the set 
 tled maxims and theories around him ; until, 
 
 Like a drop of water, 
 That in the ocean seeks another drop, 
 
 he confounds himself, and loses the identity of his 
 own peculiar and perhaps nobler characteristics. 
 
 Consider, then, the mother of the seasons in some 
 of her infinite manifestations. You wander into the 
 fresh fields and gather the flowers of spring. In 
 crystal vases, resting, it may be, upon sculptured 
 marble, you cherish these frail children of the sun 
 and showers. You renew them before they wither, 
 and gaze with exquisite delight upon their delicate 
 texture and the manifold perfection of their mingling 
 hues. They appeal forever to your inmost heart, as 
 silent mementos of all things sweet, and beautiful,
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 183 
 
 and pure. They are eloquent of perpetual suggestions 
 to the answering soul. They fill your mind more 
 than all that lives upon the canvas of the mightiest 
 master. The least and meanest of them all more 
 satisfies your imagination, than the choicest statue 
 wrought by the divinest hand. To your cultivated 
 mind they address themselves, in their momentary 
 beauty, like images of things more perfect in immor 
 tal loveliness. They are emblems of the affinities of 
 your moral being with whatever is complete in infinite 
 glory beyond the skies. Like the eternal stars, that, 
 on the brow of midnight, assure us, with their un 
 speakable effulgence, that Heaven and its hopes are 
 yet there, so these, the stars of earth, spring upon her 
 verdant bosom, the mute memorials of an inscrutable 
 immortality. In the humble dwelling-place of the 
 poorest laborer, in some crowded city s dim alley, into 
 which the golden light of day pours scarcely one beam 
 of all his abounding and pervading flood, you may 
 often discern some simple flower, which indicates the 
 longing of our more spiritual being ; which recalls 
 to the mind s eye of the wearied man the green fields 
 of his boyish days, and impresses him again and 
 again, oh, not in vain ! with the gentler and purer 
 emotions of his childhood. They come upon him, 
 amidst the dust and heat, and perhaps the wretched 
 ness, of his daily lot, like outward manifestations
 
 184 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 of the inner spirit-world. They are the signals of 
 thoughts 
 
 Commercing with the skies. 
 
 They arc like gleams of a fairer and brighter sunshine, 
 from realms " beyond the visible diurnal sphere." 
 
 The time docs, indeed, come to all men, when they 
 would gladly escape from the crowd and confusion of 
 common life, and 
 
 Forth issuing on a summer s morn, to breathe 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms, 
 
 would forget the thronging cares which have exhaust 
 ed their hearts, in company with the lilies of the field, 
 that toil not, neither do they spin. It is, indeed, by 
 influences such as these that we acquire not only 
 fresher impulses to duty, but far higher and nobler 
 principles of action. Experience, it is true, teaches 
 us that the mere drudgery of rural pursuits can have 
 little effect, in raising the private or social condition 
 of the man. To turn the verdant soil, for the mere 
 sustenance of life, would as little impress his mind 
 with the true sentiment of his occupation, as any 
 poetical idea of the gloomy grandeur of ocean enters 
 into the soul of the tempest-tost and weather-worn 
 mariner. The rustic laborer might forever follow his 
 plough upon the mountain side, and trample with 
 heedless foot upon the brightest flowers, that appealed
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 185 
 
 with dewy eyes in vain to his plodding sensibilities ; 
 and the village maiden, obeying those truer and 
 nobler instincts, inseparable, I believe, from every 
 woman s heart, with every returning Spring, might 
 gather and weave them into her rustic coronal, with 
 no definite consciousness of their more spiritual im 
 port. But to fulfil their highest ministry they must 
 have become blended with their kindred associations. 
 They must have linked themselves, as they have done, 
 with the domestic, and public and religious story of 
 the world. Their sweet and gentle names must have 
 floated upon the voice of song. They must have 
 given language of eloquent significance to the pas 
 sionate impulses of the human heart. They must 
 have spoken of the fragility of life, under that sweetest 
 and most touching of all sad similitudes, a fading 
 flower. They must have crowned the wine-cup, 
 amidst the revels of " towered cities," and mingled 
 with the sunny locks of the queen of May, upon the 
 village green. They must have waved upon the brow 
 of the returning victor, wreathed their modest tints 
 amongst the tresses of the blushing bride, and re 
 posed in pale and tranquil beauty upon the marble 
 bosom of death. They must have proved their power 
 to sound the secret well-springs of our hearts, and to 
 draw up the sweeter waters beneath, hidden, as with 
 a veil, by the intertangled sophistications and false 
 hoods of the world. They must have been won from 
 36*
 
 186 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 their wild and unseen solitudes, and nurtured and 
 cherished with a dear and reverent love. 
 
 But much as we love to meet them in their green 
 retreats, on the fragrant meadow, by the rural road 
 side, or in the wild recesses of the rocks, it is as the 
 friends and companions of our daily duties, that we 
 most welcome their sweet and holy ministry. Nur 
 tured by our own hands, they become indeed the 
 faithful solace of our cares, and the rich reward of all 
 our pleasant toil. And then, how more than strange 
 is this wonderful result with which beneficent Nature 
 repays our fostering charge ! What miracle so mar 
 vellous, as this mysterious development, which we so 
 disregard, because we call it the common course and 
 order of creation ! When the returning season fills 
 our hearts anew with its returning hopes, we take the 
 unsightly and insignificant seed. We bury it out of 
 our sight beneath the dark, insensate earth. The 
 dews and the showers fall upon w r hat might well seem 
 to be its eternal bed. The sun reaches its secret rest 
 ing place with a vital and incomprehensible energy. 
 It awakens from its slumber, and no apparent ele 
 ments of its original conformation remain. It starts 
 into being, developing newer and ever-varying aspects, 
 till 
 
 from the root 
 
 Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 
 More aery, last the bright consummate flower 
 Spirits odorous breathes.
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 187 
 
 And then, what human philosophy is competent to 
 explain the unseen cause, which, from elements ap 
 parently so inadequate, brings up the slender and 
 tapering shaft, shoots forth the verdant leaf, and em 
 bellishes its lustrous crown with inimitable purple, or 
 the flowering gold ! What wonderful chemistry is 
 this, which so niters the moisture of the earth and the 
 dew of heaven, and combines and diffuses the just 
 proportions of tho vital air through every intricate 
 fibre, till it blushes in the bloom of the queenly Rose, 
 and makes the virgin Lily the emblem of purity and 
 light ! With what unerring skill they are blended or 
 contrasted, in their infinite variety of " quaint enam 
 elled dyes " ! With what exquisite order and precision 
 their gorgeous retinue appears, each at its accustomed 
 season, and gathers the successive harvest of its tran 
 sient glory ! 
 
 Daffodils, 
 
 That come before the swallow dares, and take 
 The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim 
 But sweeter than the lids of Juno s eyes 
 Or Cytherca s breath ; pale primroses, 
 That die unmarried ere they can behold 
 Bright Phoebus in his strength ; * * 
 * * * bold oxlips, and 
 The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinds, 
 The flower-de-luce being one. 
 
 Of all the gentle and welcome company, not one but 
 lifts its starry cup or hangs its clustering bells upon
 
 188 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 the spiral stem. And oh, still stranger transforma 
 tion, when this treasured darling of an hour, so rich 
 in glowing charms and fragrant with delicious sweet 
 ness, yields to the immutable law of its destiny, re 
 folds the vital principle of its being within the shape 
 less and scentless husk, and flings itself once more to 
 its wonted repose in the embraces of the fulfilling 
 earth ! 
 
 It were, perhaps, too much to allege, that for our 
 use and pleasure alone were created these loveliest 
 objects of the natural world, so curious in contriv 
 ance, so matchless in surpassing beauty, so eloquent 
 in the lessons of unerring wisdom. Of the originally 
 perfect, but now interrupted, relation between things 
 beautiful and things morally good, we may form some 
 not irrational conjecture. That they are sadly dis 
 joined, under our present condition, we well know. 
 But if, as we are told, 
 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
 Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep, 
 
 it were not unreasonable to conclude, that, to their 
 celestial apprehension, the lovely aspects of creation 
 may afford a delight correspondent with the primal 
 relations between all things in themselves excellent ; 
 that to them, as to the Infinite Author, the loveliness 
 of creation may seem very good. Nor are we capable 
 of understanding, how far the inferior orders of being
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 189 
 
 are susceptible of enjoyment from the same sources 
 with ourselves. That their organs are affected to 
 some extent by the same sights, as well as sounds, 
 which address themselves to our own sensations, and 
 that they do appreciate some of the properties of the 
 vegetable world, we have the most abundant evidence. 
 That the " grazed ox " would trample, in the fragrant 
 meadow, upon the springing blossoms, that fill the 
 soul of the merest child with irrepressible delight, is 
 no less true, than that the bee lingers upon the flow 
 ery bank, in pursuit of his sweet repast, or that the 
 wild bird trills his spontaneous song where dews are 
 brightest, amongst leaves and flowers. Yet we may 
 be sure, that to us alone, of the common dwellers 
 upon earth, is given the power of justly appreciating 
 these munificent gifts of the benevolent Author of all 
 things. To us alone has been afforded the faculty of 
 deriving the most innocent enjoyment from their cul 
 tivation and care ; and, since the first habitation 
 assigned to our common parents was indeed a Para 
 dise,* we may conclude, that in the indulgence of no 
 other of our pleasures do we so nearly approach their 
 happy and sinless state. 
 
 There can be, indeed, scarcely a change more strik 
 ing, than to leave the noisy streets of the " dim and 
 treeless town " for the pleasant garden, stretching 
 away under the broad reviving sunshine, in the sweet 
 
 * TIAPA JEIZOZ, a garden.
 
 190 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 and open air. Of all the ordinary vicissitudes of life, 
 I am aware of none which involves a revolution so 
 absolute. We quit the sights which offend us at every 
 turn, and enter upon a scene affluent in all things, 
 which please the eye and refresh the imagination. 
 Instead of the tumult and intemperate haste of the 
 crowded haunts of men, we rest with the repose of 
 nature, broken only by murmurs that are delicious, 
 and the warbled music of the skies. For the suffo 
 cating steam of crowded life, we inhale ineffable per 
 fumes, that float upon the breath of flowers. We 
 forget the debasing competitions of wealth and fame, 
 and enter into the innocent pursuits of the guileless 
 creatures of the air. Instead of the too often profit 
 less companionships of society, we meet ourselves. We 
 become the companions of our own inner thoughts, 
 and the things which intervene between our hearts 
 and heaven are those, which only link us more closely 
 to the infinite aspirations of our souls. That voice 
 within speaks to us like a trumpet, whose whispers 
 were almost inaudible through the tumult and hurry 
 of life. The heart which was harder than the nether 
 millstone, in the cave of Plutus, softens and expands 
 to the just amplitude of its nature, beneath the liberal 
 sunshine and under the broad and bounteous atmos 
 phere. And still, like that primal Eden, though 
 shorn and diminished of those heavenly flowers, 
 
 That never will in other climate grow,
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 191 
 
 it is yet the faint image of the original paradise, and 
 the only earthly region instinctive with the spirit of 
 an Almighty and universal Love. For here, indeed, 
 it is that 
 
 o er the flower 
 
 His eye is sparkling and his breath hath blown, 
 His soft and summer breath, whose tender power 
 Passes the strength of storms in their most desolate hour. 
 
 A populous solitude of bees and birds 
 
 And fairy-form d and many-colored things, 
 
 Who worship him with notes more sweet than words, 
 
 And innocently open their glad wings, 
 
 Fearless and full of life ; the gush of springs, 
 
 And fall of lofty fountains, and the bend 
 
 Of stirring branches, and the bud which brings 
 
 The swiftest thought of beauty, here extend, 
 
 Mingling, and made by Love, unto one mighty end. 
 
 It is from places like these, that the benefactors ol 
 the world have derived the strength of their generous 
 impulses. It is here that statesmen and poets and 
 philosophers have retired, and moulded those divine 
 conceptions, which have resulted in the advancement 
 and elevation of mankind. It was into such a retreat, 
 that that noblest Roman,* styled by onef " the most 
 wise, most worthy, most happy and the greatest of all 
 mankind," entered, after he had made his native city 
 the mistress of the world. In that venerated solitude, 
 to which many a pilgrim step turned, in the succeed- 
 
 * Scipio. t Cowley.
 
 192 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 ing ages of his country s history, wiser than he who, 
 in later times, 
 
 Exchanged an empire for a cell, 
 
 he forgot alike his glories and their cares, and con 
 ceived that illustrious sentiment, which could never 
 have arisen in an ignoble or ambitious mind, Nutir 
 quam minus solus quhm cum solus. From the rose- 
 beds of Pjestum, rich in the bloom of their double 
 harvest,* was wafted that breath of flowers, which 
 ages ago stirred and mingled with the sublimest of 
 human emotions in " Rome s least mortal mind :" 
 from that Pgestum, whose fragrant odors yet faint 
 upon the summer gale, amidst the ruins of man s less 
 durable achievements ; that Psestum, where still 
 
 The air is sweet with violets, running wild 
 
 Mid broken pieces and fallen capitals ; 
 
 Sweet as when Tully, writing down his thoughts, 
 
 Those thoughts so precious and so lately lost, 
 
 (Turning to thee, divine philosophy, 
 
 Ever at hand to calm his troubled soul,) 
 
 Sailed slowly by two thousand years ago, 
 
 For Athens ; when a ship, if northeast winds 
 
 Blew from the Psestan gardens, slacked her course. 
 
 We have read, with ennobling emotions, in our 
 school-boy days, of the reluctance with which the 
 royal gardener of Sidon f left his pleasing toils, for 
 
 * Biferique rosaria Psesti. VIRG. 
 t Abdolonymus.
 
 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 193 
 
 the purpose of assuming the burdensome cares of 
 state. And it was from such a scene that Horace 
 might well have refused to part, to enjoy the more 
 intimate companionship of the master of the world ; 
 especially as this doubtful privilege must have been 
 alloyed with the society of that proud but degenerate 
 capital, to which Jugurtha, not long before, had said 
 adieu in language far more just than flattering: 
 " Farewell, cruel and venal city, which requirest only 
 a purchaser, in order to sell thyself and all which thou 
 dost contain." And it was in the shades of those Sa- 
 lonian gardens, which his own hands had made, that 
 Diocletian, the emperor, received the ambassadors, 
 who vainly strove to reinvest his brows with 
 
 the hollow crown 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king. 
 
 But perhaps one of the finest natural illustrations 
 of the interest, which still clings to pursuits like these, 
 long after the heart is comparatively dead to all other 
 human cares, is to be found in the pages of the great 
 novelist, whose pictures appear to us less like efforts 
 of imagination, than delineations of nature herself in 
 her invariable aspects. The venerable Abbot of St. 
 Mary s, according to the tenor of the tale, formed 
 apparently for times less troublous than those which 
 then distracted his unhappy country, resigns to a 
 bolder spirit his conspicuous post in the van of the 
 17
 
 194 DEDICATION OP HOETICULLTUEAL HALL. 
 
 armies of the clmrcli, now become literally and car 
 nally militant. He betakes himself, with cheerful 
 resignation, to the horticultural occupations of his 
 earlier and happier days. But his present pursuits, 
 as well as his former condition and character, serve to 
 involve him in the plots and counterplots, formed for 
 the liberation of that fairest flower of Scotland s 
 beauty, whose uttered name has so long awakened, 
 and will forever awaken, every romantic emotion in 
 the human bosom ; of that lovely Mary, less a queen 
 than a woman, whose melancholy story, after the 
 lapse of nearly three centuries, so stirs the heart, that 
 all seems harsh and cruel, which sullen history would 
 dare to blend with the memory of her beauty and her 
 wrongs. Yet in spite of her loveliness and misfor 
 tunes, the pious and transmuted Abbot, stricken, it is 
 true, somewhat into the vale of years, struggles hard 
 between his allegiance to his queen, consecrated, as it 
 is, by his duty and devotion to the church, and his 
 affection for his garden-plots, which the rude feet of 
 messengers and soldiers might trample ; for his fruits 
 and his flowers, his bergamots, his jessamines and 
 his clove-gilliflowers. Let queens escape from prison, 
 or kingdoms pass away, so the season return in its 
 freshness to his more intimate domain. " Ay, ruin 
 follows us everywhere," said he ; "a weary life I have 
 had for one to whom peace was ever the dearest bless 
 ing. * * I could be sorry for that poor queen, but
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTUKAL HALL. 195 
 
 what avail earthly sorrows to a man of fourscore ? 
 and it is a rare dropping morning for the early cole- 
 wort."* 
 
 But I know of no picture more agreeable than that 
 of old age, which the world, if it lias robbed it of 
 all things else, has been unable to cheat of its relish 
 for these innocent pleasures. There is nothing to" 
 rival it, unless it be the unalloyed delight of children, 
 in the midst of a garden. How eagerly they scamper 
 along the walks, and stoop over the brightening beds ! 
 At the very approach of spring, their hearts are 
 bounding as at some unheard-of joy. To them, the 
 golden hours of summer are laden with a rapture 
 unknown to later years. With what exquisite enjoy 
 ment they enter upon the minutest examination of 
 the most common things ! The flowers that are their 
 own make them rich with an almost untold wealth. 
 The springing grass to them is like the verdure of a 
 fairy creation, and every folded bud comes forth, the 
 miracle that it is in their soft and earnest eyes. 
 
 And then, what a host of illustrious names throng 
 upon our memories, and seem to sanctify these 
 pleasant and quiet scenes. I speak not now so much 
 of the poets, who have been forever the chosen inter 
 preters of nature s mysteries, and wanting whom, she 
 might forever have uttered oracles, sounding to the 
 wise, but vague and indefinite to the general appre- 
 
 * The Abbot, Vol. II.
 
 196 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 hension. But the time would fail me to tell the great 
 and illustrious names of English history, blended with 
 every memory of these endearing pursuits : of Wol- 
 sey, magnificent in all his enterprises ; of Sidney, 
 conceiving the delicious dreams of "Arcadia," in his 
 ancestral bowers at Pcnshurst ; of "VVotton, flattering 
 the Virgin Queen with his present of orange trees 
 from Italy, still flourishing in their original perfec 
 tion ; of Temple, whose heart so clung to the delight 
 ful recreations of his leisure hours, that, by his will, 
 he directed that heart itself to be buried beneath the 
 sun-dial in his garden ; of Evelyn, whose very name 
 awakens every pleasing association connected with 
 rural pursuits, and whose noble sentences are full of 
 the heart and soul of one, who loved the soil that bore 
 him, with every emotion becoming a patriot and a 
 man ; of Raleigh, the graceful and gallant, learned 
 and brave ; of Bacon, in the language of Cowley, 
 
 Whom a Avise king and Nature chose 
 Lord Chancellor of both their laws ; 
 
 of that Bacon, who would have fresh flowers upon his 
 table, while he sounded the depths of divine and 
 human philosophy ; of Addison, the regenerator of a 
 more manly taste in gardening, as well as literature ; 
 of Locke, the childlike philosopher, exchanging his 
 researches amongst the labyrinths of the human mind
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 197 
 
 for studies on a fairer page, the open book of Nature, 
 in her 
 
 hues, 
 Her forms, and in the spirit of her forms 
 
 and who, unlike that illustrious Roman, to whom 1 
 have referred, loved the society of children rather 
 than perfect solitude ; of Cowley and Pope, Walpole, 
 Shenstone and Cowper, and a hundred others, who 
 have illustrated this subject by their genius, and who 
 are dear to us by every kindred tie which connects us 
 with the memorials of the mind ; of Newton, conceiv 
 ing, from a natural phenomenon in his garden, of the 
 mighty law which balances this solid earth amidst the 
 unshaken spheres ; of Fox, turning without a sigh 
 from that great assembly which he had so often con 
 trolled by his sagacious eloquence, and finding, amidst 
 his flowers and trees at St. Anne s Hill, a happiness 
 far more real, than during the long years, when lie 
 had been the very idol of popular applause, or for the 
 brief but dazzling hour, when, having finally grasped 
 the prize of a life-long ambition, he directed the des 
 tinies of millions of his fellow men ; or of Wash 
 ington our own the greatest name of all forget 
 ting, amidst rural pursuits and pleasures, every care, 
 but that never-ending anxiety for the welfare of his 
 country ; while the gathering plaudits of the grateful 
 people, blessed under his beneficent rule, swelled 
 above the retreating echoes of victory, until all grew 
 17*
 
 198 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 at length to him inaudible, amidst that hallowed 
 repose, and beneath the solemn whispering shadows of 
 Mount Vernon. 
 
 And oh, what glory and delight have the poets 
 flung around these delicious resting-places of the 
 soul ! from the time of the wise and royal singer of 
 Israel, who tells us, " I made me gardens and orch 
 ards, and I planted in them trees of all kind of 
 fruits ;"* from the father of Grecian minstrelsy, revel 
 ling in fancy in the gardens of Alcinous, and the 
 master of the Roman lyre, learned in all the science 
 of the generous pursuit ; from the sylvan shades of 
 Arqua, and every " bosky bourne" which Boccacio so 
 exquisitely delineates, down to the grottoes and flower 
 beds of Twickenham, and the almost sacred solitudes 
 of Olncy. With what a charm the imagination in 
 sensibly clothes the passage of those golden hours, 
 
 When Jonson sat in Drummond s classic shade ! 
 
 What tree of our own planting is more familiar to us 
 than Pope s willow, or Shakspeare s mulberry, set by 
 himself in his garden at New Place ? And we have 
 all of us, I trust, devoutly execrated the barbarous 
 hand, which so recently despoiled this tree of trees, 
 which, but for such sacrilege, might have been visited 
 by our children s children. And when we read, in 
 one of the early biographies of Milton, that " a pretty 
 
 * Ecclcsiastes.
 
 DEDICATION OP HOETICULTURAL HALL. 199 
 
 garden-house he took in Aldersgate street, at the end 
 of an entry, and therefore the fitter for his turn, by 
 the reason of the privacy, besides that there were few 
 streets in London more free from noise than that ;"* 
 we may well believe that there, rather than in the 
 shock of life, his serene imagination might lavish all 
 its riches amongst the flowery groves of Paradise. 
 Yes ! it is the true poets who are with us, not only 
 when the sunshine nestles upon the mossy bank or 
 beds of violets, but who come to us alike when Nature 
 herself is sad and silent, and, even at the wintry fire 
 side, pour the joy of summer into our longing hearts. 
 It is they who have embroidered the virgin page with 
 inwrought words of every curious hue, 
 
 Of sable grave, 
 
 Fresh green, and pleasant yellow, red most brave, 
 And constant blue, rich purple, guiltless white, 
 The lowly russet, and the scarlet bright ; 
 Branched and embroidered like the painted Spring ; 
 Each leaf matched with a flower, and each string 
 Of golden wire ; * 
 
 * * There seem to sing the choice 
 
 Birds of a foreign note and various voice ; 
 Here hangs a mossy rock ; there plays a fair 
 But chiding fountain purled ; not the air 
 Nor clouds, nor thunder, but are living drawn ; 
 Not out of common tiffany or lawn, 
 But fine materials which the muses know, 
 And only know the countries where they grow. 
 
 * Phillips.
 
 200 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 Without these glorious hues and forms, indeed, I 
 know not of what materials the literature of a nation 
 could be composed. And thus it is, that from the 
 earliest age, and amongst every people, their beauty 
 and the spirit of their beauty have haunted the soul 
 of song. We know that, in all the countries of the 
 East, flowers have forever constituted the symbols of 
 sentiment and affection. The Greeks, who appear to 
 me by no means deficient in that element of the 
 romantic, which the moderns are so ready to arrogate 
 entirely to themselves, were passionate in their love 
 of flowers. From them have descended to us the 
 custom of their employment in triumphal pageants, 
 and on occasions of joyful or mournful ceremony ; 
 and they had scarcely a familiar flower, of the garden 
 or the field, which their imagination had not woven 
 into some lovely legend, or made the subject of some 
 fanciful metamorphosis. By that most poetical of all 
 people, the Hebrews, they were employed as the vehi 
 cles of many a touching and beautiful similitude. Of 
 all the gorgeous company, there are none so familiar 
 to our tongues and hearts, as the two which they have 
 most distinguished with their affectionate admiration. 
 How the spirit of devotion itself appears to spring, at 
 the very mention of those well-known names of things 
 so beautiful and pure ! 
 
 By cool Siloam s shady rill 
 
 How sweet the Lily blows ; 
 How sweet the breath, beneath the hill, 
 
 Of Sharon s dewy Hose !
 
 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 201 
 
 I have thus endeavored, gentlemen, to discourse to 
 you in a manner, I would fain hope, not entirely in 
 consistent with the spirit of the occasion. It has 
 been my purpose to avoid that turn of technical 
 remark, which, before such an audience, might have 
 proved presumptuous in me rather than instructive 
 to you. That scientific knowledge, which the genius 
 and enterprise of modern times have brought to the 
 pursuit of your liberal objects, may be found in 
 sources easily accessible. Of the dignity and value 
 of these objects it were unnecessary to speak. To 
 apply any elaborate eulogium to this pursuit were as 
 reasonable, as to justify the great sun of Heaven him 
 self, in the fullness and glory of his illustrious beams. 
 The beautiful and costly edifice, which you have 
 erected, is the most fitting testimonial of your liber 
 ality, as its purpose affords the surest evidence of 
 a refined and intellectual community. " God Al 
 mighty," says Lord Bacon, " first planted a garden ; 
 and indeed it is the purest of human pleasures ; it is 
 the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man ; with 
 out which buildings and palaces are but gross handi 
 works ; and a man shall ever see, that, when ages 
 grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build 
 stately, sooner than to garden finely ; as if gardening 
 were the greater perfection." 
 
 There can be, indeed, no question whatever that 
 Horticulture, as a scientific pursuit, is of very recent
 
 202 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 date. The most famous gardens of antiquity, we 
 may be sure, could enter into no sort of comparison 
 with those, which would now be considered as ex 
 hibiting the most moderate pretensions, in point of 
 the variety and beauty of their productions. As to 
 what those were, with their arbors, which Caesar be 
 queathed to the Roman people, we can form little 
 adequate idea.* The hanging gardens of Semiramis 
 have been accounted amongst the wonders of the 
 world. Yet nothing can be more certain than that 
 the " Beauty of the Chaldee s excellency " could af 
 ford the royal mistress of Assyria not a single nose 
 gay, to be compared with the meanest of those, which 
 constantly grace your elegant and spirited exhibitions. 
 Were it not for the apparent necessity of the case, 
 arising from the absence of intercommunication be 
 tween different people, it would be unaccountable 
 how little progress was made, for long ages, in an art 
 so eminently attractive in itself, and so universally 
 interesting to mankind. It is true, that conquerors, 
 at all periods of time, have traversed vast portions of 
 the world. But, with the exception of the emperor 
 Napoleon, the pursuits of science, or the advance 
 ment of society, have rarely entered into their schemes 
 of personal or national aggrandizement. But what 
 vast improvements in this, as in other respects, have 
 resulted from the extending commerce of the world ! 
 
 * Csesaris hortos. HOT.
 
 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTURAL HALL. 203 
 
 Of all the countless profusion of fruits and vegetables, 
 which make the fertile face of England " as the gar 
 den of the Lord," those indigenous to her soil are of 
 the most insignificant description. Few even of those 
 sweetest flowers, which her later poets have woven 
 into many a golden song, are of her own original 
 production. The oak, and some of the more com 
 mon forest trees, were all that her Druid groves 
 could boast. The very mulberry of Shakspeare was, 
 in his day, a rare exotic, and one of a large importa 
 tion procured from the continent by King James, in 
 1606. And if, as we are told, in the times of Henry 
 VII., apples were sold at one and two shillings each, 
 the red ones bringing the best price, we may con 
 clude, that when Justice Shallow treated Falstaff to a 
 last year s pippin of his own grajfing, it might be an 
 entertainment, at least, commensurate with the dig 
 nity of such a guest. 
 
 It has been recently stated, that the average value 
 of the plants, in a single horticultural establishment 
 of London, is estimated at a million of dollars. And 
 oh, before this magnificent result had been reached, 
 from the comparatively trifling beginning, of a few 
 centuries ago, what infinite care and cost must have 
 been expended ; what love for the generous science 
 must have been fostered and encouraged ; what dis 
 tant and unknown regions had been visited and rifled 
 of the glories of the plains and woods ! from soli-
 
 204 DEDICATION OF HORTICULTURAL HALL. 
 
 tary Lybian wastes and those paradises of Persia, the 
 Land of Roses, so eloquently described by Xenophon ; 
 from 
 
 Isles that crown th ./Egean deep, 
 
 to the boundless expanse of this bright heritage of 
 ours ; from Tartarian deserts to prairies of perpetual 
 bloom ; from the fertile breadth of fields, beneath the 
 southern skies, to the strange continents of foreign 
 seas and verdant islands of the ocean, 
 
 whose lonely race 
 
 Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds. 
 
 Combined with this adventurous spirit of modern 
 discovery, is another principle, which has proved 
 eminently favorable to the interests of horticultural 
 science. The higher social condition of those softer 
 companions of our garden-walks and labors and 
 gentle cares ; the more liberal position awarded them, 
 under the influence of advancing civilization ; our 
 deeper interest in their moral and intellectual cul 
 ture, and our more generous regard for their inno 
 cent gratification, have entwined a thousand graces 
 and refinements, once unknown, amongst the coarser 
 texture of social life. Never, indeed, do they enter 
 so intimately into our joys, and griefs, and affections, 
 as in gardens and amongst flowers. For them, and 
 not for ourselves, we reclaim the scattered blossoms 
 along the wilderness of Nature ; we ask of them a
 
 DEDICATION OP HORTICULTUEAL HALL. 205 
 
 more tasteful care in the cultivation of these sweet 
 and beautiful objects, thus won from the desert and a 
 thousand times rewarding all our pains ; and for 
 their pleasure and adornment we mingle those soft 
 est, brightest hues, and fold the interwoven bud and 
 flower and leaf into innumerable shapes of grace and 
 loveliness. 
 
 Welcome, then, for this, if for no other cause, the 
 Hall which you have thus prepared, and have deco 
 rated and garlanded to-night with the choicest treas 
 ures of the Spring. Long, long may it stand, an 
 evidence of no vain or idolatrous worship. Unlike 
 those grosser handiworks of cold and glittering 
 marble, which crowned, in ancient days, the barren 
 cliff, or looked, in lifeless beauty, 
 
 Far out into the melancholy main, 
 
 but touched with the spirit of every gentle and noble 
 association, and consecrated by the soul of all our 
 dearest affections, welcome, to them and to us, be 
 this Temple of the Fruits and Flowers. 
 
 18
 
 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR, 
 
 OPENING OF THE CFRCUIT COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 IN BOSTON, JULY 15, 1850. 
 
 MAT IT PLEASE THE COURT : 
 
 I RISE, with feelings of inexpressible sorrow, to per 
 form the severe and mournful duty, which my position 
 imposes upon me. I announce to you, officially, that 
 sad event, which has already become known to you 
 through so many channels, the sudden and lamented 
 decease of Zachary Taylor, President of the United 
 States. It is well that some brief interval has taken 
 place, between the occurrence of this great national 
 calamity and the session of the Court. Our minds 
 required the indulgence of some lapse of time to 
 enable us to recover, in a measure, from the first 
 shock of an affliction so profound ; and that we might 
 regain some power of language, in which to inter 
 change the painful emotions of our hearts. 
 
 It is little more than one brief year since General 
 Taylor assumed the exalted station, which He, who 
 holds the lives of all men and the destinies of nations
 
 208 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 
 
 in his hands, has called upon him thus unexpectedly 
 to relinquish. To that station he was welcomed by 
 the unbounded confidence of his friends and the sin 
 cere respect of his opponents ; and the whole people 
 regarded him with that involuntary admiration, which 
 his signal success in the field had excited in the hearts 
 of this nation, and in the eyes of the civilized and 
 uncivilized world. For there is no remote people, 
 amongst whom the flag of our country has been un 
 furled, which has not heard of his triumphs, and 
 learned through them to respect the American name. 
 
 His wisdom, his moderation and his sterling worth 
 had allied to him more strongly, every day, the affec 
 tionate trust of his fellow-citizens. At a period of 
 great doubt and perplexity and danger, in the affairs 
 of this country, they reposed securely upon his saga 
 cious counsels and the undoubted purity and integ 
 rity of his heart. And in every crisis his honored 
 name would have been as a tower of strength, around 
 which to rally the great energies of this nation, for 
 the maintenance of whatever is dear to us in the insti 
 tutions and inheritance of our fathers. 
 
 It has pleased God to disappoint these expecta 
 tions ; and he who was yesterday our hope, is mingled 
 to-day with the common and undistinguishable dust. 
 The language which faltered from his dying lips will 
 form the noblest and most appropriate epitaph for his 
 tomb: " I am not afraid to die. I have endeavored
 
 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 20& 
 
 to perform my duty. My only regret is in leaving 
 my friends" Like whatever else he has uttered, 
 upon the eve of great occasions, it embodies, in brief 
 and forcible expression, those striking elements, which 
 constituted the admirable basis of his character ; his 
 deep affection, his devotion to duty, his trust in God, 
 and that high courage, which had so often sustained 
 him in the face of the enemy, and now indeed has 
 proved unfailing to the last. 
 
 For himself, his death is happy, glorious and august I 
 He was at the summit of human greatness. He had 
 sought no such elevation ; and all men felt that, in his 
 administration of his great office, no selfish feelings or 
 purposes could intermingle. He was blessed by the 
 entire devotion of domestic attachment ; and, 
 
 Honor, love, obedience, troops of friends 
 
 accompanied him, with unfaltering adherence, in the 
 exalted course of his daily life. He has now escaped, 
 by death, those vicissitudes which attend upon the 
 highest earthly estate. Envy, detraction, and the 
 force of all those miserable passions, which too gen 
 erally influence the conduct of mankind 
 
 Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing 
 Can touch him further. 
 
 He has left to his country a name and an example, 
 worthy the glorious days of the noblest republic in 
 the most heroic age. He has died amidst the general 
 
 18*
 
 210 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 
 
 and heartfelt grief of his fellow-citizens. And it is 
 not too much to say, that no public man, in this or 
 any other nation, has ever left the scene of his mortal 
 labors, amidst the more universal sorrow of all classes 
 and conditions of the people. Were this the fitting 
 time and place for the expression of such feelings, I 
 might well speak more at length of the almost filial 
 veneration, with which many, who had been favored 
 with his personal intercourse, regarded him. But 
 the language of private grief it is scarcely becoming 
 to mingle with the voice of public and general lamen 
 tation ; and all, who can appreciate such a character, 
 have the right and the privilege to claim their share 
 in the common loss. For he was eminently one, who 
 aspired only to be the father of his country ; and 
 earnestly he strove to emulate the virtues and pat 
 riotism of him, whose name has long since been con 
 secrated by the universal homage of mankind. 
 
 Assuredly I have read in vain the history of the 
 world, and have failed to regard with justice the 
 character and conduct of my cotemporaries, if I err 
 in believing, that the late President of the United 
 States possessed, in a singular degree, the true ele 
 ments of unquestionable greatness of character. We 
 may, indeed, indulge in vague notions of human su 
 periority ; and while the mind is dazzled by this ideal 
 standard, few whom we have known, and, it will 
 prove, that few whom the world has ever known, will
 
 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 211 
 
 come up to our delusive criterion. But, reduce hu 
 man nature in general to the sad, yet true propor 
 tions of its qualities, and there are few, indeed, whose 
 many virtues and slight counterbalancing frailties 
 will leave them so far above the level, as he whose 
 loss we now so sincerely deplore. 
 
 For the mind of the President was capable of the 
 highest conception of what constitutes the common 
 good, and his heart included in its broad embrace 
 every object of the most enlarged benevolence. His 
 fervent and devoted patriotism, bounded by no bar 
 rier of education or prejudice, was ready to undergo 
 the extremest sacrifice for the public welfare. He 
 exhibited a firm reliance, in the darkest hour, upon 
 the tried resources of his own resolution and judg 
 ment, an unshaken constancy of purpose, a superiority 
 to evil fortune, and serene moderation under the 
 more dangerous advances of the best a true and 
 exact integrity within every public and private rela 
 tion and to unblemished purity of life he joined the 
 most unassuming simplicity of demeanor, and that 
 dignified humility, which is a jewel of untold price 
 upon the brow of the ruler of the people. A long and 
 prosperous course of existence, so spent in the service 
 of his country as to conduct him, eventually, without 
 solicitation, and against his well-known desires, to be 
 the leader and chief magistrate of more than twenty 
 millions of freemen, ended in an administration of
 
 212 EULOGY ON PKESIDENT TAYLOR. 
 
 affairs, which, meeting and conquering many scruples 
 and prejudices, has won for him the affection and 
 veneration of the people, until now, that they weep 
 no simulated tears, as his gray and honored head is 
 laid in the common dust. And if qualities, and pur 
 poses, and successes, such as these, do not constitute 
 the highest claims to human greatness, I am at a loss 
 where to look for them in the history of mankind. 
 
 The Roman poet, in an age full at least of the mem 
 ory of heroic qualities and characters, has set forth 
 his model of a great ruler as 
 
 " Justum et tcnacem propositi virum ;" 
 
 and claiming this noble and admirable description, 
 we can yet embellish its very justice in its application, 
 when we proclaim that General Taylor was eminently 
 a true man, true to himself true to all mankind ; 
 that he never did intentional wrong to any human 
 being ; but devoted his whole life, with all its most 
 honorable purposes and energies, to the welfare of 
 others and the promotion of the common cause. 
 
 That great biographer of the wonderful men of an 
 tiquity, whose pages he loved to study and contem 
 plate, would have nobly depicted him ; would have 
 dwelt with fondness upon his excellent qualities and 
 characteristics, and all that distinguished him, in an 
 age by no means prodigal of heroic virtues or extra 
 ordinary qualities of mind and heart ; and would have
 
 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 213 
 
 assigned him no mean position amidst that illustrious 
 company. And, under the influence of whatever 
 motives his cotemporaries may be induced to regard 
 him, it needs no prophetic vision to anticipate the fiat 
 of posterity. 
 
 But since he is now so far removed from the effects 
 of human censure or applause, it becomes us to con 
 sider how the republic may best derive benefit from 
 his lamented death. His life is ours. But his death 
 may avail us even more than his life, if we receive it 
 as an admonition of the providence of God. If we 
 are indeed a Christian people, we will not believe 
 that the Supreme Ruler of the universe, without 
 whom " not a sparrow falleth to the ground," has. 
 taken away the head and hope of the nation, at its 
 hour of extremest need, without the design to im 
 press some forgotten lesson upon our hearts. If it 
 tend to lead us to more entire dependence upon Him ; 
 to repress the narrow and unworthy passions which 
 agitate us ; to soften the bitterness of party strife ; to 
 subdue the rancor of public and private animosities ; 
 to induce us to yield our partial views to considera 
 tions of the general welfare ; to control and conquer 
 sectional differences ; to enhance in our eyes the 
 value of sacred institutions, and to bind us more 
 closely to our common country ; could such be the 
 result, neither the glorious recollections of his life, 
 nor the sad memorials of his untimely death will
 
 214 EULOGY ON PRESIDENT TAYLOR. 
 
 have proved altogether in vain. And he, could he 
 live to-day, would count his valued life but a willing 
 sacrifice, to secure such blessings to the land he so 
 loved and served. 
 
 And, with this imperfect tribute to the memory of 
 a great and good man, I respectfully move that this 
 Circuit Court of the United States do now adjourn.
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES.* 
 
 [From the Monthly Law Reporter.] 
 
 THE written lives of great men are truly invalu 
 able. If fairly and properly presented, there is no 
 class of writing so useful, and it certainly loses noth 
 ing in this respect, by being usually entertaining as 
 well as instructive. And we suppose, that nothing 
 tends so much to keep up society, and to check that 
 downward tendency, to which, by the law of nature, 
 all human things are subject, as the example and 
 instruction afforded by biographies of the illustrious 
 departed. We arc the more disposed to offer this 
 consideration to the attention of our readers, because 
 in our day a great deal has been said in derogation of 
 what some have denominated " hero-worship ; " es 
 pecially by those who are willing to forget that the 
 elements of great character, after all, must be great 
 qualities ; and who can, necessarily, offer us, as a 
 substitute, only qualities, scarcely to be accounted so 
 
 * Works of Fisher Ames. With a Selection from his Speeches and 
 Correspondence. Edited by his Son, Seth Ames. Boston : Little, 
 Brown & Company. 1854.
 
 216 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 well worthy of our respect and admiration. We 
 acknowledge, for our own part, that we prefer to 
 worship heroes, if need be, rather than those who 
 have no title to any such appellation. 
 
 The reasons which go to constitute the sound basis, 
 upon which our views in regard to this subject are 
 founded, seem to us almost too obvious to require 
 much effort at elucidation. The framework of human 
 society, as we have already suggested, is not kept 
 moving in regular order, and subject to just influ 
 ences, by the mere operation of its own friction. On 
 the contrary, if human affairs were left entirely to 
 the management of those who, unhappily, possess no 
 heroic tendencies, W T C apprehend that their ordinary 
 pursuits would descend very low, in the scale of 
 dignity and honor and whatever else tends to pro 
 mote the improvement and elevation of the race. In 
 a word, it is really great men, and not petty men, 
 men of noble minds and generous sympathies and 
 elevated views and exalted talents, those whose im 
 pulses and principles and aspirations conduct them 
 honorably along the high and difficult paths of public 
 service, who undoubtedly deserve, as they have gen 
 erally enjoyed, the peculiar respect and gratitude of 
 mankind. 
 
 It sometimes happens, however, in the decay of 
 States, under popular institutions, that men of no 
 great ability or honor get the upper hand. In the
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 217 
 
 midst of public factions and the jealousies and rival 
 ries of political conflicts, hordes of the least deserving 
 often become ambitious. The presumption of such 
 persons is usually on a par with their ignorance, and 
 they are unscrupulous, just in proportion as they are 
 deficient in the higher sentiments, which control the 
 conduct of better men. They are thus able, by 
 means of combination and the impulse of common 
 though selfish interest, to carry their objects into 
 effect, and to exclude from the conduct of affairs 
 those who arc most able to understand and to man 
 age them the best. The consequence always has 
 been, and always will be, that a flood of degeneracy 
 will sweep over the surface of society ; and, unless 
 checked by better influences, a nation, once enlight 
 ened, cultivated, generous and free, may become in 
 the progress of time, as has often proved to be the 
 case, degraded into barbarism, or its people supple 
 slaves to the worst and meanest tyrants. 
 
 In a word, if free institutions are to flourish and 
 be at all permanent, they must rest upon established 
 principles of generally understood application, rather 
 than stand openly exposed to the fluctuations of pop 
 ular impulse or caprice ; and the people who enjoy 
 their advantages must vigilantly require, that the 
 popular will shall be intelligently directed and ex 
 pressed, and the laws be devised and administered by 
 19
 
 218 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 the ablest and best citizens, fitted to represent worthily 
 the interests of the whole. 
 
 This, we observe, is an imperfect summary of Mr. 
 Ames s political principles and opinions, for which 
 some people saw fit, in his day, to stigmatize him as 
 an aristocrat. In this view, and for the example and 
 warning of other times, we conceive that his son has 
 now conferred a real benefit on the public, by pre 
 paring this memorial of his illustrious father. For 
 FISHER AMES was, unquestionably, a great man ; of 
 the true, old-fashioned, sterling, devoted stamp. Not, 
 certainly, that we mean to be understood as alleging, 
 that either he, or his cotemporarics, were quite free 
 from errors and defects, which, in his case, it might 
 be difficult to point out, but with which public men, 
 in all ages and countries, have been more or less 
 chargeable. Of one thing we are sorry to feel a 
 clear confidence, that the standard of public obli 
 gation and the tone of public honor were altogether 
 higher in his day than in our own ; that the scale of 
 generous patriotism had not generally been permitted 
 a descent so low, and at the same time so safe, as 
 more modern times have witnessed ; and that politi 
 cal corruption as yet duly paid its decent and respect 
 ful external homage to public integrity. In a word, 
 no one ever doubted, that we ever heard of, that 
 Fisher Ames was an honest man ; true to his prin 
 ciples, his conscience, his country and his Maker!
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 219 
 
 Throughout the great administration of Washington, 
 during a period which, as Mr. Ames himself has 
 admirably characterized it, " that government was 
 administered with such integrity, without mystery, 
 and in so prosperous a course, that it seemed wholly 
 employed in acts of beneficence," and in subsequent 
 more stormy times, side by side with men of power 
 ful character and exalted ability, whose energies had 
 been developed and concentrated, and vivified, amidst 
 the stirring events of the revolution, Mr. Ames was 
 always seen in the front rank, and there he was seen, 
 to the last, without a stain. We once heard one of 
 his cotemporaries,* who knew him well, say, " Every 
 body loved him." What a character is this ! Better 
 than fame, and more to be desired than the proudest 
 rewards of all human ambition. To have passed 
 through the troubled scenes of an eventful life, and 
 the fierce, rancorous, unsparing conflicts of political 
 warfare, with the general good-will, affords surely the 
 highest testimonial, not merely of the excellent kind 
 ness of his heart, but of the sincere, unflinching and 
 unsuspected uprightness of his character and life. 
 
 This is clearly no place, in which to indulge in 
 speculations upon the principles of the great party, 
 .which he so long aided to conduct, with an ability, 
 kindred, at least, to the highest genius, and a sagacity 
 often prophetic, from the directness and singleness of 
 
 * The late Hon. I. P. Davis.
 
 220 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 purpose with which ho regarded public affairs. But 
 the nature of these doctrines, in their general scope, 
 and often in their minute details, and the earnest 
 sincerity, which signalized his devotion to their eluci 
 dation and support, are sufficiently developed in the 
 pages of these volumes. 
 
 We have styled Mr. Ames illustrious, and his titles 
 to be thus distinguished we believe will be more fully 
 acknowledged, the more closely they are investigated. 
 They are, it is certain, of that solid character, which 
 will bear the substantial test of time. The too nar 
 row space, which our own pages allow us to afford to 
 the notice of these handsome volumes, is due to the 
 character of Mr. Ames, as an ornament to the profes 
 sion of the Law ; though the exigencies of the times, 
 as well as his own inclinations, unquestionably, en 
 larged him into a statesman, instead of permitting 
 the devotion of his life to the drudgery, or even to 
 the higher pursuits of the Bar. 
 
 The volumes are introduced by that elegant and 
 feeling sketch of Mr. Ames s life, prepared by the 
 late President Kirkland, which has long been held one 
 of the noblest tributes ever paid by one good man to 
 the memory of another. This is followed by the 
 " Letters," invaluable, of course, as sources of illus 
 tration of the public and private history of the times ; 
 and the second volume is made up of the political 
 speeches and political essays of Mr. Ames. It is not
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 221 
 
 v 
 
 our province to pronounce upon writings and oratori 
 cal efforts, which have, long since, taken their place 
 in the public estimation. The Letters, now collected 
 and published for the first time, constitute a new ele 
 ment of interest, and entitle the editor to our grati 
 tude, for this highly valuable portion of his filial 
 work. Our own publication is so- exclusively devoted 
 to the exposition of legal principles and the annals of 
 judicial tribunals, that we arc unable to devote any 
 space to the consideration of the life and public char 
 acter of Mr. Aines. This is the less necessary, how 
 ever, by reason of the existence of that succinct and 
 delightful personal sketch, by Dr. Kirkland, already 
 alluded to. 
 
 The letters of Mr. Ames, however, we wish to 
 remark, are of very great value. They run through 
 the long period from 1789 to 1807 ; including, there 
 fore, a series of years filled with events of the highest 
 consequence, both to this country and to Europe, and 
 covering that tract of time, in which the principles of 
 our own government were most thoroughly examined, 
 settled and established. They are written mostly off 
 hand, in an easy, agreeable style, without any apparent 
 deliberate attempt at artificial construction. Indeed, 
 they are all addressed to his familiar friends, who were 
 all men of mark in their day and generation. It con 
 stitutes their charm very much, therefore, as well as 
 19*
 
 222 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 * 
 
 their value, that personal allusions, often to those of 
 whose private life we cannot hear too much, and that 
 suggestions in regard to domestic matters, of which 
 more than we could wish appear to have been omitted, 
 are interspersed with discussions of public affairs, 
 discriminating touches upon the motives and charac 
 ters of public men, comments upon the temper and 
 spirit of the people, forebodings, sometimes too soon 
 realized, and ardent hopes and aspirations for the wel 
 fare of his country, generally far more than fulfilled. 
 They present Mr. Ames in an aspect so attractive, 
 through all the relations of life, as fairly to challenge 
 credence to the remark of our venerable and now la 
 mented friend, that " every body loved him." The 
 body of one of these letters we quote below. It is, it 
 will be seen, upon subjects kindred to our own pages. 
 It throws some light upon the character of Mr. Ames, 
 as a lawyer, and presents, in a striking view, his 
 strong and sagacious sense, indeed, it is actually 
 prophetic in its judgments upon his cotcmporaries, 
 and, in all respects, may be of service to members of 
 the profession, in our own day. It is dated at Ded- 
 ham, Mr. Ames s residence, October 5, 1802, and is 
 addressed to Christopher Gore, afterwards Governor 
 of Massachusetts, as we suppose on the eve of his 
 return, from his embassy at London, to his native city, 
 Boston. "We would suggest, that a few more notes to 
 these letters might be of use, and would save the
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 223 
 
 trouble to their readers of tiresome research into co- 
 temporary documents. 
 
 " You ask my advice about resuming the law business. I cheerfully 
 undertake the office, only premising that in deciding the most momen 
 tous concerns of life, a man is not only his best, but almost solely, his 
 own adviser. He has exclusively that instinctive perception of what he 
 prefers, and of what he can do, that the most discerning friend must 
 only suppose, and may, and indeed must, in a great measure mistake. 
 Nevertheless, friends ought to advise, because they bring this power of 
 se/^judging into operation precisely, and with ample materials. All I 
 will pretend to do is to frame a special verdict, and then humbly submit 
 it to your honor s judgment. 
 
 " Great law knowledge is sure to gain business and emolument. 
 The splendid eloquence that displays its treasures may hasten the 
 popular judgment to decide that a man possesses them, but ultimately 
 the learning of the lawyer decides the measure of his fame. Now, I 
 pronounce that you are well fitted by nature and study, as well as 
 practice, for such eminence, and by a practice that evinces your exten 
 sive learning and sound judgment as a lawyer, I cannot conceive that 
 you will submit to an unfavorable test of character, or that you will 
 be degraded from the place your friends wish to see you take. 
 
 " I will therefore assume it as a point proved, that by practice in 
 great causes, and where law learning will be chiefly sought for, you 
 will not impair the dignity of your standing by resorting to the bar. 
 But you will reply, that by returning to open shop you cannot choose 
 your customers, nor refuse to sell ordinary wares ; to harangue a jury 
 about the flogging given to a sailor, or to mingle in the snipsnap war 
 about admitting a witness or a deposition, will often vex and humble 
 the liberal mind ; business of small value will not lie in your way. I 
 reply, your share will be made up by insurance cases , and questions 
 which our bankrupt law is sowing for the harvest of 1804. I observe 
 that the little contests and litigations are engrossed by the junior class 
 of the profession and by those who never advance beyond mediocrity. 
 This is, I think, a different position of things from what existed in
 
 224 LIFE AND WORKS OP FISHER AMES. 
 
 1786. You will not calculate on the small fees, nor the vexations liti 
 gation which concern sixpenny interests and sixpenny passions. Mr. 
 Parsons practises on this large scale that I recommend ; and I will add, 
 fees are infinitely better than they were in 1786. 
 
 " Who are the rivals for this business with whom you must divide 
 the booty ? Parsons stands first, but he is growing older, less indus 
 trious, and wealth, or the hypo, may stop his practice. Otis is eager 
 in the chase of fame and wealth, and, with a great deal of eloquence, 
 is really a good lawyer, and improving. He, however, sighs for polit 
 ical office he knows not what ; and he will file off the moment an 
 opportunity offers. 
 
 " Dexter is very able, and will be an Ajax at the bar as long as he 
 stays. You know, however, that his aversion to reading and to 
 practice are avowed, and I believe sincere. His head aches on reading 
 a few hours, and if he did not love money very well, he would not 
 pursue the law. Sullivan, who seems immortal, is admonished of his 
 decay by a fit every three months, and will not be in your way. 
 
 " I, your humble servant, never was qualified by nature or inclina 
 tion for the bar, and this I always well knew. Want of health, and 
 the possession of a small competence will stop my mouth, if fate 
 should not stop my breath before your return. I have reckoned all 
 the persons who pretend to be considerable. John Lowell s health is 
 wretched. ... A number of eminent lawyers will be wanted in 
 Boston, and though the place is overstocked, I think the prospect for 
 1804 not unhopeful. I know of no very dashing young men coming 
 forward. 
 
 " Yet truth requires that I should, after all, state my expectation, 
 that your share of the business will not be as great as it would have 
 been if you had not left the country. It takes time to form connec 
 tions and to resume the old set of clients. You are no chicken, and 
 ought not to calculate on a very long period of drudgery at the bar. 
 You will, and you ought to, enjoy the otium cum amicis ct libris ct digni- 
 tate, for many years before you die. I will not conceal! from you my 
 opinion, that you ought not to expect, or to take into your plan, the 
 receipt of a great many great bags of money from your practice. I
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 225 
 
 do not found this moderate calculation on your want of merit and 
 talent, or on the refusal of the public to admit your title to both ; I 
 only insist that, from circumstances connected with you, with rivals in 
 practice, and with the state of business, you are not to look for a very 
 large income. 
 
 " Suppose, however, instead of six, eight or ten thousand dollars a 
 year, which Hamilton and some others are said to derive from prac 
 tice, you get only fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars, ought you 
 to decline practice on that account, or to feel mortified, as if the public 
 had rejected and degraded you ? I am interested to insist that this 
 estimate of reputation is not fair, for I am not entitled to boast of a 
 lucrative practice. The truth is, other considerations deserve weight, 
 and the public will give it to them. 
 
 " To be engaged on great law points, and to acquit yourself as you 
 will, surely cannot fail to vindicate you with every body. Your time 
 of life, your reputation, property, and moderation as to the passion for 
 gain, will be assigned as reasons, even before you can assign them 
 yourself, for your declining the toil of promiscuous business. It will 
 be said, you would not be idle, nor will you be a drudge. This line of 
 practice, the only one in your choice, will shelter you from the ungen- 
 tlemanly wrangles of the bar, and the courts have of late years set 
 about learning some manners. 
 
 " Then the question is fairly before you, whether you will open your 
 shop on such terms, and with such prospects as I have stated. Why 
 not ? I ask. You will, or some friends rather of yours will reply, 
 why should Mr. Gore descend to this not very respectable, not very 
 comfortable, not very lucrative fagging at the bar ? I urge that it is 
 better to keep up your style of living by some business, than to change 
 it for an idle life, and a style observably lower than that you have been 
 accustomed to. A man may make some retrenchments and savings, 
 but he cannot greatly alter his expense without descending, which I 
 should be sorry you should have forced upon you. A man may not 
 incline to take a certain degree on the scale of genteel living, but hav 
 ing once taken it he must maintain it. Still I think that law in Bos 
 ton will keep you out of the way of spending fifteen hundred or two
 
 226 LIFE AND WORKS OP FISHER AMES. 
 
 thousand dollars, that a retirement of idle luxury would impose upon 
 you at Waltliam. Every southern visitor must see your improve 
 ments, show them to his wife, and eat and drink you ten guineas 
 worth. $2000 saved, and $2000 got, is $4000, enough to meet all the 
 demands on your treasury, over and above the resources drawn from 
 your property. Perhaps the superior cheapness of living in Boston 
 may not strike you. I reply, a busy man may make savings and re 
 putably, if he will ; and indeed he must renounce business, or be 
 moderate in his pleasures. He must often draw a special plea and 
 refuse a feast. This is not all. Make the comparison between busi 
 ness and no business. Farming at Waltham will be some resource, 
 but I have no idea that it will afford that steady occupation which is 
 essential to keep life from being a heavy burden. Books, you will say, 
 afford that resource. In some degree they do, but they need auxiliary 
 resources. In case you should be at Waltham, unemployed by the 
 public, you will be in some danger of being forgotten by the great 
 multitude out of sight out of mind, is their maxim. By practice you 
 will be in sight, and ready, in every one s mind, for such public em 
 ployment as your friends will say ought to seek you. Therefore the 
 bar is in my judgment the best place for you to occupy, whether you 
 aim at economy in expense, tranquil eiijoyment of friends, or the 
 resumption of any public station. Your social affections will find 
 objects and exercise ; you will be kept busy, and of course cheerful ; 
 you will not appear to be laid by or thrown away, but to have chosen 
 your old post. Even if you should do little business, the extent of 
 your sacrifice will be the more apparent. You will return, not with a 
 raging thirst of gain, but with a resolution to study your cases and to 
 merit confidence and reputation. 
 
 " Hence I conclude you ought to open shop again. On convers 
 ing with Mr. Cabot, I confess he instantly decided the point against 
 me ; on further discussion he came over to my opinion. Indeed, it 
 seems to me not merely the best course, but the only one left to you. 
 All which is humbly submitted. 
 
 FISHER AMES, Foreman." p. 299.
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 227 
 
 This letter, thus playfully framed and subscribed, 
 affords us a fair specimen of Mr. Ames s epistolary 
 style. It exhibits also, in a remarkable degree, that 
 extraordinary good sense, which, applied to affairs of 
 more general interest, is denominated wisdom ; im 
 plying a grasp of mind and soundness of judgment 
 and a faculty of sagacious discrimination, which are 
 the rarest of human gifts. With this no one can 
 doubt Mr. Ames was eminently endowed. He has 
 been sometimes styled " the Burke of America." 
 Such comparisons often fail in some essential particu 
 lars ; and in the present instance, we suppose would 
 be understood as intimating some inferiority to his 
 great prototype, on the part of the American states 
 man. In our opinion, not rashly formed, Mr. Ames, 
 with a cast of mind and genius and a nervous organi 
 zation, in some respects essentially similar to the 
 characteristics of Mr. Burke, may well be held fully 
 the equal of that great man, except on the score of 
 general learning ; for the acquisition and cultivation 
 of which, this country afforded fewer opportunities 
 and inducements than, at that time at least, existed 
 abroad. He was, nevertheless, an elegant scholar, as 
 we gather from the memoir, already adverted to ; a 
 fact, indeed, sufficiently apparent not merely from the 
 classical allusions to be found in his speeches, letters 
 and political essays ; but from that ardor and glow 
 and elevation of thought, which show clearly that his
 
 228 LIFE AND WORKS OP FISHER AMES. 
 
 mind had been at those great sources of inspiration, 
 whose draughts invigorate and ennoble minds of any 
 kindred warmth. The grand essays of Mr. Burke, 
 rich in all the resources of his luxuriant and subtle 
 imagination, were in reality addressed to the higher 
 mind of society ; that is, to that audience of culti 
 vated and educated people, whose minds were capable 
 of becoming imbued with the spirit of his powerful 
 and generous, but frequently abstract speculations ; 
 and whose influence upon the administration of pub 
 lic affairs might be, therefore, rather reflective than 
 direct. The briefer pieces of Mr. Ames, employing, 
 generally and from necessity, no higher vehicle of 
 communication with the public, than the newspapers 
 of the day, were far more practical concessions to 
 such claims, as the people themselves might be thought 
 to have upon his instruction and advice. Yet they are 
 dignified and enhanced by the weight of his learning, 
 and glow with the illuminating fire of his genius. We 
 should be disposed to indicate, as one chief point of 
 difference, that Mr. Burke thought, while Mr. Ames 
 both thought and felt. We do not mean to be under 
 stood, that in our opinion the great British statesman, 
 for whom we claim to entertain an unsurpassed admi 
 ration, was really deficient in true manly feeling ; but 
 that the emotions caught from the imagination, in the 
 closet, must be necessarily somewhat colder than the 
 spontaneous and natural bursts of the heart.
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 229 
 
 111 one important particular, our own countryman 
 must bear away the palm. No man surpassed him in 
 his faculty of engrossing the profound attention and 
 regard of his audience, and few speeches have so thor 
 oughly won the great object of speeches by results, 
 so immediately triumphant and overwhelming, as his 
 own. Indeed, the clear logical deductions, the soul of 
 imagination, the depth of earnest feeling, the states 
 manlike knowledge, the philosophical analysis, the 
 force of reasoning, the power, aptness and elegance 
 of expression, all combined in his great speech on 
 the British Treaty, delivered in the House of Repre 
 sentatives of the United States, April 28, 1796, are 
 so animated by the vigor, and, so to speak, elastic 
 spring of the style, that we who read can have no 
 hesitation as to its influence on those who heard it. 
 It was of this speech that John Quincy Adams, cer 
 tainly no incompetent judge, who had listened, 
 under very favorable circumstances, to all the distin 
 guished orators of the British Parliament, at its most 
 brilliant period, to Burke, and Pitt, and Sheridan, 
 and Fox, and who had heard and observed all that 
 our own Congress could produce, when the great men 
 of those times led on the contending parties, pro 
 nounced, " There could be no doubt of it of all that 
 he had ever heard Mr. Ames s speech on the British 
 Treaty was surely the most eloquent." 
 
 The closing paragraphs of this noble appeal to the 
 20
 
 230 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 honor, as well as the judgment and reason of the 
 nation, which afford, however, a very inadequate idea 
 of its general character, are exceedingly touching and 
 beautiful. If it be literally true, as we have no ques 
 tion it was substantially so, that this speech was deliv 
 ered without any of that mature antecedent reflection, 
 and direct, careful preparation, with which most of the 
 grandest efforts of the human mind have been wrought 
 out, we should scarcely know where to look for its 
 parallel. 
 
 " Let me cheer the mind, weary no doubt, and ready to despond on 
 this prospect, by presenting another, which it is yet in our power to 
 realize. Is it possible for a real American to look at the prosperity of 
 this country, without some desire for its continuance, without some 
 respect for the measures which, many will say produced, and all will 
 confess have preserved, it ? Will he not feel some dread, that a change 
 of system will reverse the scene ? The well-grounded fears of our 
 citizens, in 1794, were removed by the treaty, but are not forgotten. 
 Then they deemed war nearly inevitable, and would not this adjust 
 ment have been considered at that day as a happy escape from the 
 calamity ? The great interest and the general desire of our people 
 was to enjoy the advantages of neutrality. This instrument, however 
 misrepresented, affords America that inestimable security. The causes 
 of our disputes are either cut up by the roots, or referred to a new 
 negotiation, after the end of the European war. This was gaining 
 everything, because it confirmed our neutrality, by which our citizens 
 are gaining everything. This alone would justify the engagements of 
 the government. For, when the fiery vapors of the war lowered in the 
 skirts of our horizon, all our wishes were centered in this one, that we 
 might escape the desolation of the storm. This treaty, like a rainbow 
 on the edge of the cloud, marked to our eyes the space where it was 
 raging, and afforded at the same time the sure prognostic of fair
 
 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 231 
 
 weather. If we reject it, the vivid colors will grow pale ; it will be a 
 baleful meteor portending tempest and war. 
 
 " Let us not hesitate, then, to agree to the appropriation to carry it 
 into faithful execution. Thus we shall save the faith of our nation, 
 secure its peace, and diffuse the spirit of confidence and enterprise that 
 will augment its prosperity. The progress of wealth and improvement 
 is wonderful, and some will think, too rapid. The field for exertion is 
 fruitful and vast, and if peace and good government should be pre 
 served, the acquisitions of our citizens are not so pleasing as the proofs 
 of their industry, as the instruments of their future success. The 
 rewards of exertion go to augment its power. Profit is every hour, 
 becoming capital. The vast crop of our neutrality is all seed-wheat,, 
 and is sown again, to swell, almost beyond calculation, the future har 
 vest of prosperity. In this progress what seems to be fiction is found 
 to fall short of experience. 
 
 " I rose to speak under impressions that I would have resisted if I 
 could. Those who see me will believe, that the reduced state of my 
 health has unfitted me, almost equally, for much exertion of body or 
 mind. Unprepared for debate by careful reflection in my retirement, 
 or by long attention here, I thought the resolution I had taken, to sit 
 silent, was imposed by necessity, and would cost me no effort to main 
 tain. With a mind thus vacant of ideas, and sinking, as I really am, 
 under a sense of weakness, I imagined the very desire of speaking was 
 extinguished by the persuasion that I had nothing to say. Yet when I 
 come to the moment of deciding the vote, I start back with dread from 
 the edge of the pit into which we are plunging. In my view even the 
 minutes I have spent in expostulation have their value,, because they 
 protract the crisis, and the short period in which alone we may resolve 
 to escape it. 
 
 " I have thus been led by my feelings to speak more at length than 
 1 had intended. Yet I have perhaps as little personal interest in the 
 event as any one here. There is, I believe, no member who will not 
 think his chance to be a witness of the consequences greater than mine. 
 If, however, the vote should pass to reject, and a spirit should rise, as 
 it will, with the public disorders, to make confusion worse confound-
 
 232 LIFE AND WORKS OF FISHER AMES. 
 
 cd/ even I, slender and almost broken as my hold upon life is, may 
 outlive the government and constitution of my country." p. 69. 
 
 Fisher Ames was born at Dedham, Massachusetts, 
 April 9, 1758. There he continued to live, except as 
 public duties required his presence at the seat of gov 
 ernment. " His spotless youth," says Dr. Kirkland, 
 " brought blessings to the whole remainder of his 
 life." At his native place he died July 4, 1808 ; a 
 day fitly closing, though too early, the valuable life of 
 a true patriot, in peace and honor. There was a 
 great deal in his mind, manners, habits, and general 
 character, which might well have commended his 
 memory to the old Greek biographer. His last 
 thoughts dwelt deeply upon his country, and upon a 
 condition of public affairs, which he had employed 
 his best talents and energies all his life long to avert. 
 He regarded the doctrines, upon which the national 
 administration was then conducted, with a feeling 
 akin to horror. The same venerable friend whom we 
 have before mentioned, and who related this incident 
 to the author while he was preparing this article, vis 
 ited him, in company with Mr. Cabot, about ten days 
 before his departure. He was then in bed. The 
 conversation fell upon the disheartening aspect of the 
 times and the dangers threatening the public safety, 
 from the discordant elements then at work. " The 
 Union must be preserved," said Mr. Ames ; " things 
 are bad enough ; but anything is better than dissolu 
 tion."
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 [From the Monthly Law Reporter ] 
 
 WE have already announced, as it occurred, the 
 lamented decease of this eminent jurist and citizen. 
 Our number for January, 1856, contained some brief 
 account of the proceedings of the Suffolk bar, in 
 recognition of the event ; of the presentation of be 
 coming resolutions to the Supreme Court of the State, 
 and of the appropriate response of Chief Justice 
 Shaw. The scene in the court-room, which place is 
 usually supposed to be little better than a mere arena 
 for the combats of trained and conflicting intellects, 
 was, upon this occasion, peculiarly affecting. The 
 hall itself was thronged with a dense assembly of the 
 legal brethren and personal friends of the great law 
 yer departed, and of others, whom various motives of 
 curiosity or interested feeling draw together upon like 
 occasions. It was a happy circumstance, that one of 
 the late judge s former pupils, himself a well-known 
 leader at the bar, offered, and, we presume, prepared, 
 the resolutions agreed upon, as the expression of the 
 common sentiment. They thus derived, from the 
 20*
 
 234 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 influence of familiar intercourse and the ardor of 
 private friendship, combined with long habits of well- 
 founded respect for the character of the deceased, a 
 point, a scope, a fitness, and a genial glow of sympa 
 thy, correspondent with the requirements of the sub 
 ject and the occasion, and far surpassing the ordinary 
 formal tone of many similar ceremonials. And who 
 ever had the fortune to listen to the reply of the 
 venerable Chief Justice, often interrupted by the in 
 tensity of his feelings, must have perceived, that nei 
 ther the wear and tear of the most extensive profes 
 sional practice, commonly reckoned a somewhat 
 hardening, as well as hard, school of experience, 
 nor the loftier demands of eminent judicial position, 
 necessarily chill the natural flow of human emo 
 tion, or make or leave a truly great lawyer anything 
 other than the true man, which nature intended him 
 to be. 
 
 It was observable here, however, as must almost 
 always be the case, that the statement of the deliber 
 ate judgment of those who took part in the proceed 
 ings, so far as the character of the mere lawyer was 
 concerned, comprehended only certain terms of gen 
 eralization, highly honorable and laudatory it is true, 
 although not especially distinctive, but equally ap 
 plicable to many who have gone before, as they will 
 be to others who may come up hereafter. This is 
 the fortune, we will not call it the misfortune, of the
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 235 
 
 profession. It is the fate of the great leader at the 
 bar, to make hut a temporary mark and to he sum 
 marily forgotten. His life may be one of extraordi 
 nary activity and bustle. He may seem to live in 
 the full blaze of the world s admiring eye. He may 
 be engaged, through a protracted series of years, in 
 the management of successive causes, which demand 
 the exertion of all his energies and faculties, and 
 often, perhaps, enlist all his feelings, and which may 
 involve the very highest human responsibilities ; and, 
 within a very few years after he has passed off the 
 stage, his very name will have become obliterated 
 from the memory of men, or be only occasionally 
 recalled, within the compass of a very limited circle. 
 The poet, with somewhat less than his usual ob 
 servance of exact justice, supposes Fame to be nig 
 gardly enough to resume her awards of honor, even 
 those bestowed upon her chiefest favorites, if a single 
 misfortune should occur to mar the chain of success 
 ful achievements : 
 
 " The painful warrior famoused for fight, 
 
 After a thousand victories, once foiled, 
 Is from the book of honor razed quite, 
 And all the rest forgot, for which he toiled." 
 
 But the great lawyer, in this country, who has ad 
 vanced through successive triumphs, to the very pin 
 nacle of professional reputation, may hope in vain to 
 erect any lasting monument to his memory, unless,
 
 236 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 indeed, his abilities, usually at the hazard of his 
 legal standing, and assuredly to his pecuniary loss, 
 have found a field of exercise in the senate as well as 
 the forum ; or, unless he be willing to sacrifice his 
 professional emoluments, for the inadequate compen 
 sation which attends the honor of the bench, and thus 
 secures, at least, a legal immortality, through his 
 elaborate judgments recorded in the books. It is 
 also true, that the tenor of mere professional life has 
 been usually found to be too uneventful for biogra 
 phy. And undoubtedly the objects, upon which the 
 most eminent advocate employs his faculties at the 
 bar, are generally of very transient interest. His 
 chief business, after all, is only to apply long-discov 
 ered and well-established principles to the varying 
 conditions of human affairs. And, however absorb 
 ing may be his immediate sympathy with each indi 
 vidual case, the actual interest in the settlement of 
 questions of abstract right is very much confined to 
 the parties directly concerned. Even if the habits of 
 his life permitted him to glance, with the eye of 
 imagination, upon family secrets intrusted to him, 
 sometimes far surpassing the ordinary boundaries of 
 fiction, in passionate intensity of detail and in extra 
 ordinary development of character, or, if professional 
 honor authorized him to make them known, still, 
 his own peculiar part, in the control or management 
 of such incidents, is little more than that of the good
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 237 
 
 fairy in Oriental tales, who appears at the proper 
 moment certainly, to relieve virtuous distress or to 
 defeat impending malice ; but his own intervention 
 is, after all, only incidental, and the main points of 
 interest would, by no means, afford the appropriate 
 materials for his own personal biography. 
 
 It sometimes happens, however, that the natural 
 character of the man stands out so prominently and 
 remarkably, outside of his professional, and, we may 
 say, his adventitious position, that the general cause 
 of human good is likely to be advanced, by selecting 
 such an instance for our special observation and ex 
 ample. In the present instance, it affords us a mel 
 ancholy satisfaction to devote some portion of our 
 pages to such a brief memoir of the late Judge 
 Jackson as our materials permit. For, in a peculiar 
 sense, the event of his death, at an age very much 
 exceeding the ordinary bounds of human existence, 
 derived its importance from the tenor of his life ; and 
 we are unwilling that one, in whose character good 
 ness was so fittingly conjoined with intellectual supe 
 riority, should pass entirely out of our sight, without 
 some appropriate notice in our pages. He was born 
 in Newburyport, May 31st, 1775, and died at his resi 
 dence, Bedford Place, Boston, December 13, 1855. 
 Having thus exceeded the great age of eighty years, 
 he afforded a signal example of those, who prove to 
 what an advanced period a feeble constitution may
 
 238 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 be made subservient and serviceable to the uses and 
 control of the mind. Indeed, very many of his latter 
 years had been spent in a manner so secluded from 
 public observation, that few of the present generation 
 would be likely to know what an important profes 
 sional and judicial position he once occupied. As he 
 occasionally appeared in the streets, however, accom 
 panied by his attendant, no observant stranger could 
 fail to indulge in some curious speculation upon the 
 history of that feeble old man, with the pale and 
 thoughtful face ; and the universal respect of those 
 who recognized him often must have excited a still 
 deeper interest and prompted more earnest inquiry. 
 He was, indeed, one of the few remaining links of 
 that chain, fast loosening its hold, and very soon to 
 be drawn back into the irrevocable past, which con 
 nects our times with a period, one day to be looked 
 upon as the great and heroic age of this country ; a 
 period not of perfect men certainly, but of a large 
 and influential class of those, who were bolder and 
 nobler, as it seems to us, and more disinterestedly 
 brave and self-sacrificing in the public service, than 
 is common now, of men who were eminent above 
 the measure of this day in the various pursuits of 
 professional life, and were gentlemen in the ordi 
 nary intercourse of society, by the example, the culti 
 vation and the public recognition of honor, integrity, 
 and just and generous sentiment.
 
 HON. CHAELES JACKSON. 239 
 
 So far as these causes might tend to the formation 
 of a worthy and admirable character, Judge Jackson 
 had the advantage of them in the circle of his early 
 acquaintance, and especially in the home of his youth. 
 For his father was truly a prince amongst merchant 
 princes, an ardent patriot, a thorough Washington] an 
 in politics, a Federalist of the old school, what would 
 now probably be called an aristocrat, unless he may 
 be considered to have somewhat qualified this stig- 
 matic appellation, by undeviating devotion to the 
 cause of the country, by the most generous efforts 
 and sacrifices in its behalf, by the faithful perform 
 ance of every private duty, and the clear and able 
 discharge of many high public trusts ; in fact, by 
 entire integrity and purity of life, and unsurpassed 
 courtesy of manners ; securing to himself universal 
 respect while he lived, and the common lamentation 
 when he died, and enabling him to leave to his chil 
 dren a name better than rubies, and which had its 
 undoubted influence in the formation of their charac 
 ters, and in the tenor of their histories and fortunes. 
 
 At the period of Judge Jackson s birth, Newbury- 
 port, the place of his father s origin and residence 
 then, and long afterwards, and during his most pros 
 perous days, stood amongst the first, if it was not the 
 highest, on the list of the secondary class of towns 
 on the American coast. It still retains its natural 
 beauty, its ancient mansions, and much else which
 
 240 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 yet constitutes it a place of no common interest. 
 But many of the elements of its former distinction 
 have long since passed away. In those days, how 
 ever, it was to this town that young men were often 
 sent from the capital, and elsewhere, to learn the 
 skill, the habits, the discipline arid the principles then 
 deemed requisite for a merchant ; for there were the 
 counting-rooms of men who, besides the evidence of 
 their successful enterprise, had secured the public 
 confidence, by eminent services performed and marked 
 ability displayed in the public cause. Jonathan Jack 
 son, the father of the judge, was a man of education 
 and accomplishment, as well as talent, and was a 
 valuable member of the Continental Congress in the 
 year 1780. His townsman, Tristram Dalton, equally 
 eminent as a merchant and a man, was one of the 
 two senators first elected to Congress by Massachusetts 
 under the constitution ; and Nathaniel Tracy, uncle 
 of Judge Jackson, more successful than either, in the 
 acquisitions of maritime enterprise, is reputed to 
 have supplied government with no less than one hun 
 dred and sixty-seven thousand dollars, during the 
 revolutionary war out of a fortune so ample, as to 
 make the question of repayment of such a sum a 
 matter of indifference, and which was really sacrificed 
 by a private gentleman to the general necessity. 
 Men like these, with their compeers, of more or less 
 pretension and success, would naturally give a very
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 241 
 
 decided character to a town ; and many agreeable 
 associations, which make its name more than usually 
 familiar, arc to be traced back to this day of its 
 former pride and prosperity. 
 
 At the same period, also, Newburyport was the 
 residence of Chief Justice Thcophilus Parsons, then 
 in the zenith of his preeminent professional reputa 
 tion, from whose office Rufus King, John Quincy 
 Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Benjamin Gorham, and 
 a long file of other distinguished persons, of whom, 
 we believe one, Mr. Charles Phelps of Hadley, still 
 survives, entered upon their various useful and bril 
 liant courses of life. There, also, resided the bishop 
 of the diocese of Massachusetts, Dr. Bass, and Dr. 
 Spring, father of Gardiner Spring of New York, and 
 who had been chaplain to Arnold s romantic expedi 
 tion for the conquest of Quebec, which took its de 
 parture from Newburyport, and who w r as, afterwards, 
 a chaplain in the regular army ; and there was Mur 
 ray, the Presbyterian minister, than whom no more 
 eloquent, or more learned . divine of the times could 
 be named, and there, Whitfield, the wonder of his 
 day, who, for many years, had occasionally preached 
 to the inhabitants, had died, not long before, and 
 found that rest, which its earth still aifords to his 
 bones. There was also the early instructor of Charles 
 Jackson, Nicholas Pike, author of the first American 
 arithmetic, of whom one of his biographers says 
 21
 
 242 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 " He was ready in the classics, and seldom took a 
 book to hear his pupils recite," and close by, at 
 Dummer Academy, was " Master Moody," famous 
 above all others, and preceptor of many of the lead 
 ing men of the last century. It was the home, also, 
 of the excellent and beloved physician of this distin 
 guished circle, and of the poor quite as much, Dr. 
 Swett, father of Col. Samuel Swett of this city and 
 whose name, after the lapse of sixty years from his 
 decease, still 
 
 Smells sweet and blossoms in the dust, 
 
 though a physician not often has the opportunity, or 
 the fortune, to leave behind him much enduring 
 memorial of his fame. There, also, was Judge Brad 
 bury, of the Supreme Court, with whom Parsons 
 studied, and Dudley Atkins Tyng, collector of the 
 port under Washington, and afterwards reporter of 
 the early volumes of the Massachusetts decisions, and 
 connected with some of the principal families of Mas 
 sachusetts ; and there were born, a few years before, 
 John Lowell, son of the famous Judge John Lowell, 
 and in the same year with Charles Jackson, Francis 
 C. Lowell, brother of John, to whom our chief manu 
 facturing city owes its origin and its name. Here, 
 also, might be found, during the youth of Jackson, 
 a very considerable body of revolutionary worthies, 
 amongst them a general officer, distinguished at
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 243 
 
 Bunker-hill, and others who attained high rank in the 
 military service of the country, in the course of the 
 war. No town upon our seaboard entered into that 
 long struggle, with readier or higher spirit than 
 Newburyport ; and it is easy to conceive how the 
 character of its veteran sons, returning from the tri 
 umphant issue of so great a cause, must have tended 
 to promote its general elevation and respectability. 
 Under such circumstances, therefore, and amidst such 
 influences, the subject of this notice was born and 
 bred, while there existed in his place of birth an ener 
 gy, an elevation, a style of living, a tone of society 
 and a spirit, scarcely to be imagined in one of the 
 lesser seaport towns of our own time. We fear that 
 we may have been betrayed into a too fond recital of 
 departed glories and worthies ; "but it is not, we be 
 lieve, without its use, and we rejoice that there are 
 those yet left, to whom it will prove a subject of 
 unfailing interest. 
 
 We have no intention of writing any elaborate 
 sketch of the life of Judge Jackson, even were we 
 qualified for this duty, by anything more than an 
 ordinary familiarity with the distinguishing traits of 
 his character. Our only hope has been, to be able to 
 pay some not unfitting tribute to the memory of a 
 good citizen, and a good man. 
 
 After spending the period of his youth in his native 
 town, he entered Cambridge college, at an early age,
 
 244 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 in the same class with the late Dr. Pierce of Brook- 
 line, and Charles Coffin of his own town, afterwards 
 president of Greenville and Knoxville colleges, in 
 Tennessee, and who was his nearest competitor for 
 the highest college honors, which Jackson secured. 
 He pursued the study of the law with Parsons, at 
 Newburyport ; and it was cither in regard to the 
 period of his legal studies, or to that immediately 
 after he entered upon the practice of his profession, 
 of which we have heard it said, in his own town, that 
 lie never looked at a newspaper for three years. Such 
 an instance of self-restraint, in a young man, and of 
 devotion to his peculiar duties, certainly gave evi 
 dence of qualities, significant of his future eminence 
 in a profession, which he had thus made the sole 
 mistress of his affections. Accordingly, he won the 
 entire approbation of a teacher not easy to please, 
 and Parsons is known to have said of him, when he 
 entered upon practice " Of all my pupils, no one 
 iias left my office better fitted for his profession " 
 [and it is to be remembered that King and Adams 
 had preceded him] "he will prove himself the 
 American Blackstonc." No man could be better 
 qualified than Parsons to form an accurate judgment 
 on such a subject, and we have no doubt the predic 
 tion was fully warranted by the elegance, the extent, 
 and the soundness of his pupil s acquisitions. If it 
 eventually failed in its specific application, the cause
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 245 
 
 of such deficiency is to be assigned to enfeebled 
 health, rather than to any want of the necessary 
 ability and accomplishment. But, notwithstanding 
 his devotion to his profession, Mr. Jackson was said 
 to be the most popular young man in Newburyport ; 
 a distinction owing, no doubt, to the excellence of his 
 disposition, to that amenity of manners, which was in 
 him a peculiarly observable trait, and to the unspotted 
 purity of his life, as well as to a natural pride in 
 the ability and character of a young townsman, for 
 which laudable and patriotic feeling, the citizens of 
 his native town have often shown a remarkable pre 
 disposition. 
 
 With such qualities and advantages, it must follow, 
 as a matter of course, that Mr. Jackson would rise, 
 steadily and rapidly, to the highest position of profes 
 sional eminence. At the bar, he was trusted, beloved 
 and honored ; and when, eventually, he received the 
 appointment of one of the justices of the Supreme 
 Court of the State, upon the decease of Judge Sedg- 
 wick, in the year 1813, it was with the approbation of 
 all good men. We have always been informed that 
 Judge Jackson was what might be styled a model 
 judge; that he was distinguished upon the bench, 
 which he adorned for only the brief period of about 
 ten years, for a marked composure of demeanor, for 
 entire precision of legal learning, for extraordinary 
 urbanity of manner, for an absolute freedom from 
 21*
 
 246 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 passion or prejudice, for a certain, native, high-minded 
 independence of opinion, and for an impartiality, 
 which amounted, as nearly as possible, to the exem 
 plification of abstract justice ; yet, with a decisive 
 inclination, whenever the opportunity occurred, to 
 present the equitable view of a case. We need not 
 say, therefore, that he exhibited that first qualifica 
 tion of a judge uprightness a characteristic, hap 
 pily, of judicial position in Massachusetts, as a general 
 rule, and maintaining itself comparatively unsullied, 
 even to our own somewhat wavering times. But we 
 firmly believe, if the memory of any one of those who 
 have passed off the stage, in the bright array of Mas 
 sachusetts judges, were to be appealed to, for a signal 
 example of judicial purity, the name of Charles Jack 
 son would be the first to occur. And, since the 
 position of a judge upon the earth is not, as it is too 
 often considered, that of a mere man of business, 
 according to the ordinary estimate of human affairs, 
 but he is, in some imperfect sense, the vice-chancellor 
 and substitute of infinite wisdom, justice, and power, 
 we know not what more could be said in honor of 
 any person, or why any one could wish to bequeath a 
 clearer and nobler reputation to his country. 
 
 There are certain opinions of Judge Jackson, in 
 the books, which may be referred to as leading and 
 most valuable judgments. But any special detail of 
 their merits would be out of place here. In conse-
 
 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 247 
 
 qucncc of failing health, he resigned his office in 
 1823, and the public thus lost the benefit of those 
 services, which he might, perhaps, have rendered 
 during some considerable portion, at least, of the 
 subsequent thirty years granted to his honored life. 
 For the purpose of relaxation and recovery, he soon 
 sailed for England ; and as evidence of a reputation 
 not confined to home or native country, and of per 
 sonal characteristics well fitted to promote his inter 
 course with intelligent and cultivated society every 
 where, we quote from a letter of a gentleman, writing 
 from London to a friend in Newburyport : " Two of 
 your townsmen" (the other was Jacob Perkins) 
 " now fill the public eye of England, and are the sub 
 jects of public and private conversation." 
 
 The remaining years of Judge Jackson s life were 
 passed in studious retirement, and in agreeable com 
 munion with an extended circle of family and social 
 friends. In 1836 he was appointed head of the com 
 mission, under the resolve of the legislature, for the 
 revision of the statutes of Massachusetts, of the char 
 acter of which important undertaking we need say 
 nothing. Excepting this arduous labor, and the pub 
 lication of his learned treatise on Real Actions, to be 
 referred to an earlier date, we are aware of no other 
 public service performed by him, while he was, in 
 deed, necessarily and carefully nursing the often 
 flickering flame of life. In politics, he clung with
 
 248 HON. CHARLES JACKSON. 
 
 the ardor and tenacity of settled principle to the 
 ancient faith of the old Essex platform, of which his 
 master, Parsons, so admirably sketched the outline in 
 his famous "Resolutions;" upon the basis of which so 
 many of the noblest men, whom this country lias ever 
 counted amongst its jewels, have so often uttered 
 words of warning and wisdom and encouragement 
 and patriotism, in the roughest times the country has 
 ever seen. In religion, he was, as we have good 
 reason to believe, what was said with equal truth of 
 John Selden, " a resolved serious Christian ; " and, 
 unlike too many professional men, he found no ex 
 cuse for the neglect of its duties, in the engrossing 
 demands of ordinary cares and labors. Indeed, his 
 life was one long routine of fulfilled duties, which a 
 natural sense of rectitude made pleasures. We pre 
 sume he had faults, for he was human ; if so, they 
 were not public, and we know not what they were. 
 He was a gentleman, by nature, sentiment, and cul 
 tivation. During his whole life, he was beloved, 
 esteemed and respected. He dies, without a blot 
 upon his memory, and has thus nobly fulfilled the 
 only real purposes of human existence.
 
 MR. CHOATE S LECTURE 
 
 ROGERS AND HIS TIMES 
 
 WE imagine, it will be found not a very easy matter 
 to present even an intelligible sketch of Mr. Choate s 
 great lecture, delivered on Monday evening. No 
 description could really furnish any adequate idea of 
 such a performance. As well might mortal painter 
 endeavor to catch upon canvas those hues of heaven, 
 which kindle into beauty and vanish in the trail of the 
 descending day. And just as no imagination could 
 recall those shapes of capricious loveliness, momenta 
 rily shifting and finally melting into that unfathom 
 able ocean of golden light ; so those who have subse 
 quently attempted to report this great orator (for 
 assuredly no gray goose-quill, detached from its parent 
 wing, could be quite fleet enough to follow him, at the 
 moment) have thus found the vividness, the glow, 
 the rapidity, and the sparkle of his utterly unexpected 
 diagonalisms, quite beyond the reach of their ability 
 to set down.
 
 250 MR. CHOATE S LECTURE ON 
 
 Whoever has been in the habit of hearing Mr. 
 Choatc at the bar, or upon occasions of public interest, 
 could not fail to be prepared to listen to a discourse, 
 instinct with thought, glittering with the fire of 
 genius, bubbling and boiling over with the stir and 
 riotous action of a teeming and irrepressible fancy. 
 Confessedly, it is a very extraordinary thing, that this 
 great, laborious, and eminently successful lawyer, who 
 occupies a place at the Bar, with no man above, and 
 no man very near him ; who so wonderfully exempli 
 fies the axiom, that the part is contained in the whole 
 as it is in complete and not in imperfect works by 
 employing constantly the minutest technical details of 
 his profession, with the same unvarying, accurate 
 skill, as that with which he grasps its broadest princi 
 ples and wields the entire machinery of its philosophi 
 cal learning ; and who devotes more daily hours to 
 the trial and argument of causes, than any three or 
 four other persons together ; that such a man, so giftr 
 ed, so constituted, and so occupied, should have kept 
 his mind thoroughly imbued with the freshness of 
 earlier literary and classical acquisitions should have 
 pressed on breast-high wifti whatever is worthy of 
 attention in the literature of to-day, and, on an occa 
 sion like the present, should have been able to charm, 
 delight, and, we may say, fascinate an audience as 
 intelligent and cultivated as, we presume, is ordinarily 
 assembled in this or any other American city.
 
 ROGERS AND HIS TIMES. 251 
 
 We doubt very much whether such an exhibition 
 could be had anywhere else, or from any other source. 
 Mr. Choate is a person eminently idiosyncratic. There 
 is not, and never was, a speaker exactly like him ; and 
 we have never heard anybody speak who, by the gift 
 of nature, knew better how to present his strong 
 points in their most attractive aspect, or to make his 
 weak ones tell more effectively. For the public per 
 formances of Mr. Choate, judged according to the 
 strict canons of art, are by no means perfect. A cold 
 criticism, subsequently applied, (for we suppose only 
 a very cold critic would think of such a criterion, 
 under the immediate spell of the orator s fascinating 
 eloquence), may undoubtedly detect inequalities, de 
 ficiencies, thought too rapidly conceived, expressions 
 now and then inadequately chosen. For our own 
 part, we confess our disposition to yield ourselves up 
 to the madness of the hour. So far from allowing 
 ourselves to be diverted from the general effect of a 
 noble performance, like that of Monday evening, by 
 any of those occasional irregular but characteristic 
 lapses, we should as soon think of quitting the broad 
 bosom of the glorious river, which is floating us pros 
 perously on towards happiness and home, for any of 
 the side-creeks and false bays, into which the abound 
 ing stream pours some of its superfluous waters. 
 
 It would be equally unfair and useless to undertake 
 to judge Mr. Choate by any of the ordinary standards.
 
 252 MR. CHOATE S LECTURE ON 
 
 In some sense, like Shakspeare s, his genius exceeds 
 their bounds, and is not, therefore, amenable to their 
 laws. His mind is full to overflowing ; and the infi 
 nite relations of things, in their remoter as well as 
 their more intimate coherences, present themselves to 
 his imagination and are made subservient to his uses, 
 in a manner not always easily to be appreciated by a 
 common mind. We dare say there are those, in his 
 own profession or out of it, in the same sphere of life, 
 who no more understand him, in his loftier flights, 
 than they do poetry, in the very ecstasy of its inspira 
 tion. We have seen persons to whom Rachel appeared 
 absolutely ugly, or, at least, as exhibiting only the 
 icy, outside glitter of a sort of fiendish fascination, in 
 the manifestation of her extraordinary powers ; to 
 others she seemed almost divinely lovely, and the 
 express personification of all those qualities and 
 capacities, which occasionally prove how humanity 
 may sometimes get wings and soar out of the dead\ 
 level of mere passionless routine and mediocrity. 
 This casual comparison is by no means a fanciful 
 one ; for there is a good deal of resemblance between 
 these two remarkable personages, of different coun 
 tries, callings, and sexes. In his public efforts, Mr. 
 Choate unfolds, in no mean degree, those blended 
 shades of pathos and humor, which betoken tragic 
 power ; and we have often thought, that on the stage
 
 ROGERS AND HIS TIMES. 253 
 
 lie would have shown himself a tragic actor, as incom 
 parable, as he is without a competitor at the Bar. 
 
 There will always be carpers at such characters. 
 Through some perversity of nature, men seem often 
 to take pleasure in bolstering up weakness and inani 
 ty, and in throwing obstacles in the way of whatever 
 asserts genuine claims to superiority. Genius finally 
 wins its way to its uppermost heights, only through 
 clouds and storms ; or to drop the figure, through envy 
 and detraction, faint praise accorded, or in spite of 
 assent altogether withheld. It would sometimes seem 
 an almost inevitable rule, that men agree, with one 
 consent, to praise that which needs it most, and to tear 
 away, on the other hand, from great merit whatever 
 fairly belongs to it. In the one case, no man s self- 
 love is wounded, by commending that which he con 
 ceives to be somewhat beneath his own powers ; in the 
 other, every concession which he makes is only an 
 acknowledgment of his own individual inferiority. 
 Of course, a man like Mr. Choate is beyond all these 
 impediments to his progress now, and can look down 
 upon them compassionately, unless he prefers, as we 
 hope, to look up. But we should like to see those, 
 who are most inclined to disparage such a lecture as 
 Mr. Choate delivered, try to imitate it, and so soon 
 learn that, whether it seem to them great or small, 
 in its height or breadth, its golden profusion, and its 
 rolling, overflowing, flashing tide of thought and 
 22
 
 254 MR. CHOATE S LECTURE ON 
 
 illustration, it would be found quite beyond the range 
 of their most ambitious efforts, as much as some of its 
 flights really transcend the capacity of ordinary con 
 ception. In fact, it requires much higher powers, to 
 accomplish any great work, however subject to critical 
 exception, than to discover and point out those inevi 
 table imperfections, to which all human perform 
 ances are liable. 
 
 We did not set out with any purpose of offering an 
 analysis of this remarkable lecture. We have heard 
 the observation, that it was not exactly what was to 
 be expected of Mr. Choate which, we suppose, means 
 that it did not entirely correspond with certain indefi 
 nite and extravagant expectations, which no man 
 ever did or ever can satisfy. We thought it quite 
 equal to his best efforts, and if not, yet in certain 
 respects superior to what other men could do. It 
 exhibited all those points, which are sometimes ac 
 counted amongst the faults of this eminent orator, and \ 
 it glittered with the fervor and showering fire of 
 genius flinging out a word, here and there, which 
 sparkled in its place like some diamond of incompa 
 rable lustre drawing its illustrations out of clefts 
 and caverns at the height of the rocks, inaccessible 
 to the sweep of ordinary thought, or from depths of 
 the sea, which only the imagination of the hardiest 
 diver would venture to explore. 
 
 We have also heard this performance characterized
 
 ROGERS AND HIS TIMES. 255 
 
 as discursive. To our apprehension, it possessed a 
 certain higher order and propriety of parts, suffi 
 ciently luminous in itself, and amply consistent with 
 its subject. Other critics have suggested, we arc told, 
 that some of its channels of thought indicated the 
 results of Mr. Choatc s reading, amongst the great 
 writers of our own and of other times. We have 
 little doubt, without making any reference for the 
 sake of comparison, that the beautiful tribute to old 
 age, with which Mr. Choate ushered in his address, 
 may have much coincidence of sentiment with that 
 noblest essay of Cicero, " De Senectute." We should 
 judge that Mr. Choate had been a reader of Lord 
 Bacon. We make no question his mind has been 
 more or less imbued with the vital sentiment of cer 
 tain works, showing how a new style and spirit of 
 modern letters sprang out of the embers of the French 
 Revolution, like the young and vigorous growth cover 
 ing with fresh luxuriance the ashes of the forest, 
 swept over by consuming fire ; it was quite evident 
 he is an admirer of the fathers and loaders of 
 English literature, the ornaments, the honors, an4 
 lights of the world, upon whose writings the mind 
 feeds and grows, and to which it is indebted for fur 
 nishing it with new thought, or recalling the old which 
 had been forgotten. 
 
 He who has accustomed himself to habitual asso 
 ciation with such writers no more loses his own indi-
 
 256 MR. CHOATE S LECTURE ON 
 
 viduality, than the flower forfeits its native form and 
 beauty, though it developes a lovelier hue and grace, 
 when it is transplanted into a more congenial soil. 
 By consequence of such studies^ instead of immature 
 thought, crude and feeble conception and elaborate 
 shallowness, or a mere vacant and meretriciously bediz 
 ened essay, like a hollow pillar of sapless wood, encir 
 cled with artificial flowers, we have just such a fresh, 
 thoughtful, suggestive, glowing lecture, the more 
 liable to be misapprcciated, since it was certainly very 
 far out of the common course, as that with which 
 Mr. Choate enchanted an expressively silent audience, 
 for an hour and a half, on Monday evening. It was 
 gratifying beyond measure to listen to those philo 
 sophical deductions of principles and results, so broad, 
 sound, generous and noble, so fitted to advance truth, 
 to maintain honor, to dignify manhood, to cheer and 
 sweeten life. Even if we might not assent to all its 
 critical exemplifications and instances, in our opinion 
 the lecture was such a lofty and generous intellectual 
 effort, that we wish we knew where to look, either 
 now or for the future, in order to justify our hope of 
 other such literary performances. 
 
 If we were to select, after that most happy and 
 self-deprecatory opening, the portion of the lecture 
 which seemed to us more than usually admirable, it 
 was the reply to CaiiylQ s futile blow at Walter Scott. 
 There could remain no doubt on the mind of whoever
 
 ROGERS AND HIS TIMES. 257 
 
 was present, that this splendid and carefully wrought 
 passage went thrilling to the hearts of the assembly, 
 and filled and satisfied their understandings with an 
 argument at once eloquent, original, and conclusive. 
 For our own part, we can only express our wish, that 
 an ^intellectual exercise of such extraordinary power 
 and brilliancy, and calculated to produce so salutary 
 an influence, might be in the hands, as well as in the 
 ears and mouths of the public ; and we sincerely trust 
 that Mr. Choatc may be induced to yield his reluc 
 tance, for this once, and put forth in print a perform 
 ance, which we cannot help feeling confident would 
 tend very much to the benefit of his permanent repu 
 tation. 
 
 22*
 
 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 
 
 THAT passage of Shakespeare, which has given 
 occasion to numerous annotations and disquisitions, 
 perhaps the most unprofitable long drawn out, is the 
 one quoted below. It occurs in that passionate mon 
 ologue of Juliet, uttered while she is impatiently 
 awaiting the approach of night, to cover her con 
 certed interview with Romeo : 
 
 Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, 
 Towards Phoebus mansion ; such a wagoner 
 As Phaeton would whip you to the West, 
 And bring in cloudy night immediately : 
 Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night ! 
 That runaicay s eyes may wink, and lloinco 
 Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen, &c. 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET, Act II., Sc. 2. 
 
 In the quarto and folio editions, the word run- 
 awaifs is written in the ancient fashion, " run- 
 awaycs," and the point at issue has been to ascertain 
 whom Shakespeare meant to indicate by this appella 
 tion. To exhibit the full variety of discussion, in 
 which Shakespeare s editors and annotators have in 
 dulged upon this subject, would be to display quite a 
 voluminous mass of laborious, if not ingenious criti 
 cism, and the course of opinion revealed affords a very
 
 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 259 
 
 curious specimen of hopeless conjecture. Whoever 
 desires to consult the older authorities, on this point, 
 will find them stated at length, in the Variorum 
 edition of the poet s works ; while a very ample, elab 
 orate and able article on the subject, containing ref 
 erences to the more modern suggestions of critics, in 
 England and this country, maybe seen in the " Shake 
 speare s Scholar " of Mr. Richard Grant White, pp. 
 372, 387. 
 
 Mr. Singer, in his note on this passage, says that 
 " Dr. Warburton thought that the run-away in ques 
 tion was the sun; but Mr. Heath has most completely 
 disproved this opinion," 011 the ground, that Juliet 
 could not consistently complain of the tardiness of 
 the sun, or Phoebus, to whom she had just before 
 assigned " fiery-footed steeds." Douce, it seems, in 
 sists that Juliet applies the term to herself, as a 
 runaway from her duty to her parents. Monck 
 Mason proposed Rcnomifs, that is Rename s ; Zach- 
 ary Jackson, unawares, which was adopted by Collier 
 and Knight ; Dyce suggested rude day s, and, being 
 dissatisfied himself with this explanation, subsequently 
 wanders off amongst " roving eyes ; " which he likes 
 not much better. Stecvens, with some touch of poet 
 ical instinct, clings manfully to runaway s, though 
 evidently not understanding the meaning of the al 
 lusion. Mr. Halpin agrees with this, and thinks 
 the phrase applies to Cupid, " Venus Runaway," so
 
 260 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 
 
 styled by Mosclms, and, after him, by Ben Johnson ; 
 which theory, at least, conveys an intelligible and 
 poetical meaning, with this objection, however, that 
 Cupid s eyes, on the occasion, ought to be open, 
 rather than shut. It appears, however, that Mr. 
 Heath, long ago, conjectured the word to be a mis 
 print for "Rumour s." With this Mr. Singer now 
 substantially coincides, substituting, however, ru 
 mour er^s ; and Mr. White, who had originally believed 
 that this " incomprehensible runaway " was an error, 
 which would " probably remain forever uncorrected," 
 at last falls in with the conjecture of Mr. Heath, and 
 asks if there " can be any doubt, that rumoure s eyes 
 were the words written by the poet ? " 
 
 Now, in order to explain this passage, if possible, 
 let us resolve it into different language, conveying 
 precisely the same ideas throughout; and it may 
 stand thus, 
 
 Make your best haste, oh swift steeds of the sun, to 
 be stalled, for the night, at the mansion of Phoebus, 
 in the West. If such a wagoner, as Phaeton once of 
 old was, only had the reins, he would put you to 
 your mottle, and, under the whip, would you dash 
 through heaven to your place of rest, and bring on 
 night at once. Now, let it be so, love-performing 
 night ! Thus, now, as then, quickly spread thy close 
 curtain, that runaway s eyes may wink ! Such be 
 the speed ! Let this fiery charioteer this runaway
 
 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 261 
 
 wagoner, this Phaeton, runaway with by the steeds 
 of the sun perform the same feat now, (success 
 fully) forthwith let him wink close his eyes 
 sleep he it speedily night, that, under its shadow, 
 Romeo may- 
 Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen ! 
 
 This I conceive to have been the course of thought 
 in Shakespeare s mind. The metonomy, in the last 
 line, constitutes no objection to this explanation. 
 " Unseen " would be the ordinary consequence of 
 darkness ; and so, therefore, would be " untalked 
 of ; " and, although observation, in the natural course 
 of events, would precede discussion, yet, for poetical 
 purposes, surely, nothing can be more common than 
 such a reversal of the actual " order of their going." 
 The word " wink," of course, is used for sleep, in the 
 common sense in which we employ it, e. g., / have 
 not slept a wink. 
 
 And, although I do not conceive, in regard to this, 
 or any other passage of Shakespeare, that it is essen 
 tial for us to make it, as precisely and consecutively 
 consequential, as the propositions of a syllogism, 
 yet, 011 the other hand, if it be objected that, whether 
 Phoebus or Phaeton drive the chariot of heaven through 
 its stages, it is the absence of the sun which causes 
 night, and that, therefore, in the order of nature, it is 
 not logically consecutive, to supplicate Night to spread
 
 262 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 
 
 her curtain, in order that the eyes of him may wink, 
 whose metaphorical retirement to repose is simulta 
 neous and coincident with the action prayed for, and 
 who is, of himself, the potential cause of this very 
 effect of darkness, yet, figuratively speaking, and in 
 reference to the personification of the sun, as Phoe 
 bus or Phaeton, it was sufficiently so, and indeed it 
 was strictly accurate for the poet so to form the im 
 agination of it, and so to beseech Night to draw her 
 curtain over the face of things, after heaven s chariot 
 eer had completed his course and stabled his steeds ; 
 and especially as, in this instance, after his some 
 what break-neck drive, he might not unreasonably be 
 thought in need of his natural rest. 
 
 Although, therefore, in conceiving of the ordinary 
 succession of day and night, regarded as natural 
 events, we are conscious that, only upon the winking 
 of " day s garish eye," does night ensue, and the 
 obvious idea, in this aspect of the case, is, not that 
 the winking in question follows upon, but accom 
 panies the coming on of night, yet, otherwise, when 
 we think of the sun as Phoebus, or, as in this in 
 stance, as Phaeton, driving his car to the West, as 
 his goal, which presents the image of " civil-suited 
 Night " coming forward to spread her close curtain 
 behind him, only when the wagoner has arrived at 
 his wonted mansion and has disappeared within. 
 
 The observation of Mr. Heath, therefore, on Bishop
 
 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 263 
 
 Warburton s note, though literally correct, is not 
 poetically so. In fact, Juliet only hints at greater 
 speed, rather than complains of the tardiness of the 
 sun. She addresses his coursers as fiery-footed 
 steeds ; but, rapid as is the movement of these flam 
 ing horses, still she would be glad to hasten their 
 speed. The regular flight of time, to be sure, is not 
 fast enough for her! In this consists the incom 
 pleteness and, therefore, the fallacy of Warburton s 
 theory. However swiftly the sun, Phoebus him 
 self, fulfils his ordinary course, under his govern 
 ment the procession of the hours is uniform and 
 orderly ; and the pace, though rapid, subject to 
 strict guidance and control. In no proper sense, 
 consequently, can the sun itself be denominated a 
 " runaway ; " and ergo, as our friend Launcclot 
 Gobbo would say, Shakespeare did not thus offend 
 against propriety and the nature of things. But, 
 upon the fancy of Juliet, yearning as she was for 
 the moment when she was to be with her lover, 
 flashed the idea of that irregular, meteoric race 
 through the skies, which once called for the interven 
 tion of Jove s dread thunderbolt, to stay its progress ; 
 and if the unskilful charioteer, on this occasion, were 
 not a " runaway," and, par excellence, the runaway, 
 in this special connection, when we are speaking of 
 the flight of time, and seeking to accelerate its prog 
 ress, we know not where Shakespeare could have
 
 264 A SHAKESPEARIAN RESEARCH. 
 
 looked, for so fit an example ; especially when this 
 runaway sally is the very subject of his fancy ; and 
 its chief actor is the very agent Juliet instances, and, 
 we may presume, is wishing for, to hasten matters to 
 the conclusion she so desired. For, in her fantastical 
 imagination, at the hint of the name, Phoebus be 
 comes Phaeton ; this idea fills her mind, and she 
 thus pursues the chain of thought. 
 
 The truth is, Warburton is the only one of Shake 
 speare s commentators, who seems to have had a 
 glimpse of the poet s idea in this passage. But, 
 though it is strange, that what seems so obvious, 
 should not have occurred to a scholar like himself, 
 apparently his mind was not of a sufficiently poetical 
 texture fully to apprehend the association of thought 
 in the text. Most other theories seem little better 
 than ingenious trifling. 
 
 The whole speech, in fact, is characteristically girl 
 ish, love-sick, extravagant, erratic, Phaetonic. We 
 must not here, then, require Shakespeare to produce, 
 in detail, every minute link in the chain of his earth- 
 embracing and heaven-embracing associations, in 
 order to enable inconsiderate eyes to follow the flight 
 of his imagination ; and he, we will suppose, im 
 agined us capable of catching some flashes of his 
 meaning, when his fancy touched into being those 
 seemingly wayward and intricate, but still ever inter 
 mingling and harmonious, shapes of light.
 
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