THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ^T"^^ SPECIMENS OF AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. SPECIMENS OF AMERICAN ELOQUENCE CONSISTING OF CHOICE SELECTIONS FROM THE PRODUCTIONS OF THE MOST DISTINGUISHED AMERICAN ORATORS. "^^^ MIDDLETOWN: PUBLISHED BY E. HUNT & CO. 1837. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by E. HUi\T & CO. In the Clerk's Ofl5ce of the District Court of Connecticut, WllLrAM D. STARR, Pnnt....Middletown. r/Y PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. It is a remark of Cicero, which has been often quoted, that " Eloquence is the tender offspring of a free Constitu- tion." In proof of its justness, our own country may well be cited as an example ; for from the first day that the separate independence of the American Colonies wa# aofitated in debate, the annals of our literature have beenV rich in the choicest specimens of soul-stirring Eloquence. ^ American Eloquence set in motion and urged on the Revo- lution ; — it sustained our invaluable Constitution against the overthrow with which it was threatened from indiffer- ence and dissenting timidity ; — and it is believed that no country could ever boast a more brilliant list of eloquent cotemporary names than now adorn the pulpit, the bar, and the legislative halls of the United States. In the difficult task of making selections from the multi farious materials which presented themselves to the editor his choice has been decided by the dignity and importance of the subjects discussed, the justness of the views advan- ced, and the literary merit of the productions. *^. VI PREFACE. It is the belief of the pubUshers that in the following pages, they present to the public a volume most highly creditable to the intellect of our country. The reason of this excellence is obvious,. The institutions and condition of our country are such as especially to call forth and pro. mote talents for public speaking. Every question of grave import, or doubtful tendency, is carried, not at the bayonet's point, or by royal edict, but by the popular voice, after the sharp conflict of mind with mind. On this account too, a volume of judicious selections from American Eloquence, becomes a commentary upon our laws, religion, and politics, which should be in the hands of every freeman who would honorably discharge the duties of a citizen and a patriot. It need scarcely be remarked that such a work is eminently suited to be placed in the hands of the young, not only for the manly views and the pure moraUty which its pages con- tain, but as affording some of the brightest models for their study and imitation. Even the student of eloquence whose mind has been enriched by the stores of antiquity, may dwell with daily and nightly devotion upon a work embra- cing within its varied pages, specimens of the transparent musical flow of Everett and Story — the impetuous torrent of Beecher — the scathing coruscations of Burges — and the thunder of Webster. He may advantageously lay aside his rules and treatises, to sit often and long at the feet of these masters of the "art of persuasion," that by an habitual con- templation of their excellence he may be transformed into the hiame image. Let him learn too from their example not to be soon weary of his exertions, or faint in his labors, what- e vcr they mo v be. Nor will he, if he duly estimates the PRKFACE. VH ■dignity and importance of the art which he is striving to attain — " the God-like power Of moulding, wielding, fettering, banding The minds of millions till they move like one." An art which stands forth the hand maid of benevolence and the protectress of improvement ; which pleads the cause of injured humanity, and wings the shafts of sacred truth. And when the day of peril comes, (and who, though he hopes, can say he believes also, that the foreign tyrant or the traitor demagogue will never think to " change the fair face of our American Liberty into ashes,") at that day she will constitute a defence surer than the rocky harbors which gird our coast, and oppose to the aggressor resistance more formidable than fleets and armies. Caesar feared Cicero more than all the legions of Pompey, and never trembled but under the Orator's terrible denunciation. With so many of the brightest models among our coun- trymen, and so many advantages afforded for its cultivation, genuine Eloquence surely will not be suffered to languish among us. Should the following compilation advance this noble cause, even in the humblest degree, its object will be fully attained. CONTENTS. .-^»-f-»— Page Extract from Mr. Webster's Discourse at Plymouth, in commemo- ration of the first settlement of New-England 13 Mr. Warren's Oration at Boston, March 5th, 1772, the Anniversary of the "Boston Massacre," 38 Extract from Mr. Hancock's Oration, March 5th, 1774, the Anniver- sary of the " Boston Massacre," 49 Extract from Mr. Wilson's Speech, delivered in the Convention of Pennsylvania, January, 1775, 56 Extract from Gov. Livingston's Address to the Legislature of New- Jersey, in the year 1777, 64 Extract from Mr. Webster's Address, at the laying of the Corner Stone'of the Bunker-Hill Monument, 1825, 72 Mr. Warren's Oration at Boston, March 6th, 1775, the Anniversary of the " Boston Massacre," 87 Mr. Henry's Speech in the Convention of Virginia, March 23, 1775, 100 Extract from Mr. Story's Discourse, in commemoration of the first Settlement of Salem, delivered September 18th, 1828, . . .104 -Extract from Mr. Gaston's Address at Chapel-Hill, June 20th, 1832, 123 Extract from Dr. Beecher's Sermon on Duelling 130 Extract from Dr. Beecher's Sermon on the Practicalness of a Reform in Morals, 133 Extract from Mr. Wilson's Speech, on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, delivered in the Convention of Pennsylvania, Novem- ber 26, 1787, .,......;,, 147 3t CONTENTS. Page. Mb. Hamilton's Speech, on the adoption of the Federal Constitu- tion, delivered in the Convention of New- York, June 20, 1788, . 153 Extract from Mr. Hamilton's Speech, on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, dehvered in the Convention of New- York, June 27, 1788, 158 Extract from Mr. Henry's Speech, on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, delivered[in the Convention of Virginia, June 5th, 1778, 164 Extract from Dr. Beecher's Sermon on Atheism 172 Extract from Mr. Story's Discourse, on the Dedication of Mount Auburn Cemetery 188 Extract from Mr. Henry's Speech, on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, deliveredintheConventionof Virginia, June 8th, 1788, 196 Extract from Mr. Webster's Eulogy, on Adams and Jefferson, . 204 Extract from Mr. Mason's Eulogy on Washington, . . .210 Extract from Mr. Everett's Eulogy on Lafayette, .... 213 Extract from President Humphrey's Inaugural Discourse, . . 219 Extract from Mr. Everett's Oration at Plymouth 227 Extract from Mr. Bates' Speech on the Indian Bill, delivered in Congress, May, 1830, 234 Extract from Mr. Humphrey's Discourse on Indian Rights, . 240 Extract from Mr. Ames' Speech on the British Treaty, . . 250 Extract from Mr. Everett's Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa So- ciety, at Cambridge, . . . . ■ 253 Extract from Mr. Biirges' Speech on the claim of Marigny D'Aute- rive, delivered in Congress, January, 1829, 266 Extract from Mr. Burges' Speech on the Tariff, delivered in Con- gress, in the year 1829, 269 Extract from Mr Sparks' Sermon on the death of the Hon. William Pinckney, 273 Red Jacket's Speech to an American Missionary, . . . 278 Extract from Mr. Van Burcn's Speech on the Bill for the Relief of the Officers of tiie Revolutionary Army, delivered in Congress, . 282 Extract from Mr. Wirt's Address to the .Students of Rutger's Col- lege, 284 Extract from Mr. Burges' Speech on the Bill for the Relief of the Survivors of the Revolutionary Army, delivered in Congress, Jan- uary, 1827 287 C0NTHNT3. XI Page. Extract from Mr. Buckminster's Sermon on the reasonableness of Christian Faith, 293 Extract from Mr. Buckminster's Sermon on the importance of Chris- tian Faith, 297 Extract from Mr. Hopkinson's Speech in defence of Samuel Chase, 302 Mr. Dexter's Argument in defence of Thomas O. Selfridge, . 305 Extract from Mr. Webster's Argument in defence of James Prescott, 315 Extract from Dr. Channing's Discourse on the Ministry for the Poor, 319 Speech of Minavavana, Chief of the Chippewa Indians, . . 325 Extract from Mr. Everett's Speech on Temperance, . . . 327 Extract from President Jackson's Proclamation, .... 332 Extract from Mr. Van Buren's Speech on the Panama Mission, . 339 - Extract from Mr. Webster's Speech on the Panama Mission, . 342 Extract from Mr. Q.uincy's Speech on the Bill for increasing the Army, 346 Extract from Mr Clay's Speech on the Bill for increasing the Army, 352 Extract from Dr. Fisk's Discourse before the Legislature of Ver- mont, 356 Extract from Dr. Beecher's Plea for the West, .... 360 Extract from Verplanck's Historical Discourse, .... 363 Extract from Dr. Nott's Eulogy on Hamilton, . . . .367 EXTRACT FR03I A DISCOURSE DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, IN COMMEMORATION OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW-ENGLAND. BY D.iNIEL WEBSTER. Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thank- ful that we have Uved to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious moi-n, which commences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious indeed ; bring, ing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence to men ; full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect of futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the Landing of the Pilgrims. Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of our native land, we have come hither to cele- brate the great event with which that history commenced. Forever honored be this, the place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remembered the day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken in everything but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man ! It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our happiness, with what is distant in place or time ; and, looking before and after, to hold communion at once with our ancestoi"s and our posterity. Human and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings', without relation to the past or the future. Neither the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in wliich we physically live, bounds our 2 14 Webster's discourse. rational and intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its history ; and in the future by hope and anticipation. By ascending to an association with our an- cestors ; by contemplating their example and studying their character ; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit ; by accompanying them in their toils, by sympathiz- ing in their sufferings, and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs, we mingle our own existence with theirs, and seemjto belong to their age. We become their contemporaries, Uve the lives which they lived, endure what they endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by running along the line of future time, by contemplating the probable fortunes of those who are com- ing after us ; by attempting something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their regard, when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from the orb, which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeUng which nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among chil- dren of the same Eternal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow beings, with which his goodness has peopled the infinite of space ; — so neither is it false or vain to consider ourselves interested and connected with our whole race, through all time ; allied to our ancestors ; allied to our posterity ; closely compacted on all sides with others ; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origin of our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last, with the consumma- tion of all things earthly, at the throne of God. There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for an- Webster's discourse. 15 cestry, which nourishes only a weak pride ; as there is also a care for posterity, which only disguises an habitual ava- rice, or hides the workings of a low and groveUing vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the heart. Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feeUng, I hardly know what should bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind, than a consciousnesss of alliance with excellence which is departed ; and a conscious- ness, too, that in its acts and conduct, and even in its sen- timents and thoughts, it may be actively operating on the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few stronger conceptions, by which it would affect or . overwhelm the mind, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the departed dead to the senses of the Uving. This belongs to poetry, only because it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the handmaid of true philosophy and morality; it deals with us as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connexion with this state of existence is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy with our- selves ; — and when it carries us forward also, and shows us the long continued result of all the good we do, in the pros- perity of those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in the language of our nature, and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as human beings. Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our posterity, we are assembled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that relation, and the present occasion, impose upon us. We have come to this Rock, to record here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers ; our sympathy in their sufferings ; our gratitude for their labors ; our admiration of their virtues ; our veneration for their piety ; and our attach, ment to those principles of civil and religious hberty, which 16 * Webster's discoitrse, they encountered the dangers of the ocean, the storms of heaven, the violence of savages, disease, exile, and famine, to enjoy and to establish. — And we would leave here, also, for the generations which are rising up rapidly to fill our places, some proof, that we have endeavored to transmit the great inher- itance unimpaired ; that in our estimate of public principles, and private virtue ; in our veneration of religion and piety ; in our devotion to civil and religious liberty ; in our regard to whatever advances human knowledge, or improves human happiness, we are not altogether unworthy of our origin. There is a local feelinjr connected with this occasion, too strong to be resisted ; a sort of genius of the ■place, which inspires and awes us. We feel that we are on the spot, where the first scene of our history was laid ; where the hearths and altars of New England were first placed ; where Christianity, and civilisation, and letters made their first lodgement, in a vast extent of country, covered mth a wil- derness, and peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, at the season of the year at which the event took place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly di-aws around us the principle features, and the leading characters in the original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where the little bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its slow progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and promontories, where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places of habitation and of rest. We feel the cold which benumbed, and listen to the winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock, on which New England received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold them, as they struggle with the elements, and, with toilsome efforts gain the shore. We listen to the chiefs in council ; we see the unexampled exhibition of female fortitude and resignation ; we hear the whisperings of youthful impa- tience, and we see what a painter of our own has also rep- resented by his pencil, chilled and shivering childhood, houseless, but for a mother's arms, couchless but for a mother's Webster's discourse. 17 breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of Carver, and of Bradford ; the decisive and soldierlike air and manner of Standish ; the devout Brewster ; the enterprising Allerton ; the general firmness and thought- fi.dness of the whole band ; their conscious joy for dangers escaped ; their deep solicitude about dangers to come ; their trust in Heaven ; their high religious faith, full of confidence and anticipations : all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence and admiration. The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here on the twenty-second of December, sixteenhundred and twenty, although not the first European establishment in what now constitutes the United States, was yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been followed and must still be followed, by such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting commemoration. On these causes and consequen- ces, more than on its immediately attendant circumstances, its importance as an historical event depends. Great actions and striking occurrences, having excited a temporary admi- ration, often pass away and are forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, affecting the prosperity and happi- ness of communities. Such is frequently the fortune of the most brilliant military achievements. Of the ten thousand battles which have been fought ; of all the fields fertilized with carnage ; of the banners which have been bathed in blood ; of the warriors who had hoped that they had risen from the field of conquest to a glory as bright and as durable as the stars, how few that continue long to interest mankind ! The victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of to-day ; the star of military glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen ; disgrace and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and renown ; victor and vanquished presently pass away to oblivion, and the world goes on in its course, with the loss only of so many lives and so much treasure. But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune of mil- 1* 18 Webster's discourse. itary achievements, it is not always so. There are enter- prises, miUtary as well as civil, which sometimes check the current of events, give a new turn to human affairs, and transmit their consequences through ages. We see their importance in their results, and call them great because great things follow. There have been battles which have fixed the fate of nations. These come down to us in history with a solid and permanent interest, not created by a display of glittering armor, the rush of adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, the pursuit, and the victory ; but by their effect in advancing or retarding human knowl- edge, in overthrowing or establishing despotism, in extending or destroying human happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain of Marathon, what are the emotions which most strongly agitate his breast ? What is that glorious recollec- tion, which thrills through his frame, and suffuses his eyes ? — Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor were here most signally displayed ; but that Greece herself was here saved. It is, because to this spot, and to the event which has rendered it immortal, he refers all the succeeding glories of the republic. It is because if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives that her philosophers, and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptors and architects, her governments and free insti- tutions, point backv/ard to Marathon, and that their future existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the Persian or the Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of that day's setting sun. And as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is transported back to the interesting moment, he counts the fearful odds of the contending hosts, his interest for the result ovei'-' whelms him ; he trembles, as if it were still uncertain, and seems to doubt whether he may consider Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sophocles and Phidias, as secure, yet, to him- self and to the world. "If we conquer," said the Athenian commander on the Webster's discoi'kse. 19 morning of that decisive clay, — " If we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of Greece." A prophecy, how well fulfilled!— "If God prosper us," might have been the more appropriate language of our Fathers, when they landed upon this Rock ; — "If God prosper us, we shall here beo-in a work which shall last for ages ; we shall plant here a new society, in the principles of the fullest liberty, and the purest religion : we shall subdue this wilderness which is before us ; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with civihsation and Christianity ; the temples of the true God shall rise, where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice ; fields and gar- dens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden . harvest of autumn, shall extend over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand valleys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of civilized man. We shall whiten this coast with the canvass of a prosperous commerce ; we shall stud the long and winding shore with an hundred cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in strength. From our sincere but houseless worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness ; from the simpli- city of our social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitutions of government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe ; from our zeal for learning, in- stitutions shall spring which shall scatter the light of knowl- edge throughout the land, and, in time, paying back where they have borrowed, shall contribute their part to the great aggregate of human knowledge ; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this hour, with unabated affection and regard."' It is now five and forty years, since the growth and rising glory of America were portrayed in the English parliament, with inimitable beauty, by the most consummate orator of modern times. Going back somewhat more than half a cen- tury, and describing our progress as foreseen, from that 20 WEBSTER^S DISCOURSE. point, by his amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then Uving, he spoke of the wonderful progress which America had made during the period of a single human life. There is no American heart, I imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious patriotic pride, and admiration for one of the hap- piest efforts of eloquence, so often as the vision of "that little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body," and the pro- gress of its astonishing developement and growth, are re- called to the recollection. But a stronger feeling might be produced, if we were able to take up this prophetic descrip- tion where he left it ; and placing ourselves at the point of time in which he was speaking, to set forth with equal fe- licity the subsequent progress of the country. There is yet among the living a most distinguished and venerable name, a descendant of the Pilgrims ; one who has been attended through life by a great and fortunate genius ; a man illus- trious by his own great merits, and favored of Heaven in the long continuation of his years. The time when the English orator was thus speaking of America, preceded, but by a few days, the actual opening of the revolutionary drama at Lexington. He to whom I have alluded, then at the age of forty, was among the most zealous and able defenders of the violated rights of his country. He seemed already to have filled a full measure of public service, and attained an honorable fame. The moment was full of difliculty and danger, and big with events of immeasureable importance. The country was on the very brink of a civil war, of which no man could foretell the duration or the result. Somethinfr more than a courageous hope, or characteristic ardor, would have been necessary to impress the glorious prospect on his belief, if, at that moment, before the sound of the first shock of actual war had reached his ears, some attendant spirit had opened to him the vision of the future ; if it had said to him, " The blow is struck, and America is severed from Eng- land forever !" if it had informed him, that he himself, the Webster's discoukse. 21 next annual revolution of the sun, should put his own hand to the great instrument of Independence, and write his name where all nations should behold it, and all time should not efface it ; that ere long he himself should maintain the in- terest and represent the sovereignty of his new-born coun- try, in the proudest courts of Europe ; that he should one day exercise her supreme magistracy ; that he should yet live to behold ten millions of fellow citizens paying him the homage of their deepest gratitude and kindest affections ; that he should see distinguished talent and high public trust resting where his name rested ; that he should even see with his own unclouded eyes, the close of the second century of New England, who had begun life almost with its com- mencement, and lived through nearly half the whole history of his country ; and that on the morning of this auspicious day, he should be found in the political councils of his native state, revising, by the light of experience, that system of gov- ernment, which forty years before he had assisted to frame and establish ; and great and happy as he should then be- hold his country, there should be nothing in prospect to cloud the scene, nothing to check the ardor of that confident and patriotic hope, which should glow in his bosom to the end of his long protracted and happy life. It would far exceed the limits of this discourse, even to mention the principal events in the civil and political histo- ry of New England during the century ; the more so, as for the last half of the period, that history has been, most hap- pily, closely interwoven with the general history of the Uni- ted States. New England bore an honorable part in the wars which took place between England and France. The capture of Louisburg gave her a character for military achievement ; and in the war which terminated with the peace of 1763, her exertions on the frontiers were of most essential service as well to the mother country as to all the colonies. In New England the war of the revolution commencedi 22 Webster's discourse. I address those who remember the memorable 19th of April, 1775 ; who shortly after saw the burning spires of Charles- town; who beheld the deeds of Prescott, and heard the voice of Putnam, amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous Warren fall, the first distinguished victim in the cause of liberty. It would bo superfluous to say, that no portion of the country did more than the states of New England, to bring the revolutionary struggle to a successful issue. It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw early the necessity of a closer union of the states, and gave an efficient and in- dispensable aid to the establishment and organization of the federal government. Perhaps we might safely say, that a new spirit, and a new excitement began to exist here, about the middle of the last century. To whatever causes it may be imputed, there seems then to have commenced a more rapid improvement. The colonies had attracted more of the attention of the mother country, and some renown in arms had been acquired. Lord Chatham was the first English minister who attached high importance to these possessions of the crown, and who foresaw anything of their future growth and extension. His opinion was, that the great rival of England was chiefly to be feared as a maritime and commercial power, and to drive her out of North America, and deprive her of her West India possessions was a leading object in his policy. He dwelt often on the fisheries, as nurseries for the British sea- men, and the colonial trade as furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by him with so much vigor, terminated in a peace, by which Canada was ceded to England. The effect of this was immediately visible in the New England colonies ; for the fear of Indian hostilities on the frontiers being now happily removed, settlements went on with an activity before that time altogether unprecedented, and public affairs wore a new and encouraging aspect. Shortly after this fortunate termination of the French war, the inter- esting topics, connected with the taxation of America by Webster's discourse. 23 the British ParUament began to be discussed, and the atten- tion and all the faculties of the people were drawn towards them. There is perhaps no portion of our history more full of interest than the period from 1760 to the actual commence- ment of the war. The progress of opinion, in this period, though less known, is not less important, than the progress of arms afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration than those events and discussions which affected the public sentiment, and settled the revolution in men's minds, befoi'e hostilities openly broke out. Internal improvement followed the establishment, and prosperous commencement, of the present government. More has been done for roads, canals, and other public works, within the last thirty years, than in all our former history. In the first of these particulars, few countries excel the New England States. The astonishing increase of their navigation and trade is known to every one, and now be- longs to the history of our national wealth. We may flatter ourselves, too, that literature and taste have not been stationary, and that some advancement has been made in the elegant, as well as in the useful arts. The nature and constitution of society and government, in this country, are interesting topics, to which I would devote what remains of the time allowed to this occasion. Of our system of government, the first thing to be said, is, that it is really and practically a free system. It originates entirely with the people, and rests on no other foundation than their assent. To judge of its actual operation, it is not enough to look merely at the form of its construction. The practical character of government depends often on a variety of con- siderations, besides the abstract frame of its constitutional organization. Among these, are the condition and tenure of property ; the laws regulating its alienation and descent ; the presence or absence of a military power ; an armed or unarmed yeomanry ; the spirit of the age, and the degree of general intelligence. In these respects it cannot be denied, 24 Webster's discourse. that the circumstances of this country are most favorable to the hope of maintaining the government of a great nation on principles entirely popular. In the absence of miUtary power, the nature of government must essentially depend on the manner in which property is holden and distributed. There is a natural influence belonging to property, whether it exists in many hands or few ; and it is on the rights of property, that both despotism and unrestrained popular vio- lence ordinarily commence their attacks. Our ancestors began their system of government here, under a condition of comparative equality, in regard to wealth, and their early laws were of a nature to favor and continue this equality. A republican form of government rests, not more on poHtica constitutions, than on those laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. — Governments like ours could not have been maintained, where property was holden accor- ding to the principles of the feudal system ; nor, on the other hand, could the feudal constitution possibly exist with us. Our New England ancestors brought hither no great capi- tals from Europe ; and if they had, there was nothing pro- ductive in which they could have been invested. They left behind them the whole feudal policy of the other continent. They broke away, at once, from the system of military ser- vice, established in the dark ages, and which continues, down even to the present time, more or less to affect the condition of property all over Europe. They came to a new country. There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no tenants rendering service. The whole soil was unre- claimed from barbarism. They were themselves, either from their original condition, or from the necessity of their com- mon interest, nearly on a general level, in respect to proper- ty. Their situation demanded a parceling out and division of the lands ; and it may be fairly said, that this necessary act fixed the future frame and form of tJieir government. The character of their political institutions was determined by the fundamental laws respecting property. The laws Webster's discourse. 25 rendered estates divisible amono; sons and daughters. The right of primogeniture, at first Umited, and curtailed, was af- terwards aboUshed. The property was all freehold. The entailment of estates, long trusts, and the other processes for fettering and tying up inheritances, were not appUcable to the condition of society, and seldom made use of. On the .contrary, alienation of the land was every way facilitated, even to the subjecting of it to every species of debt. The estabUshment of public registries, and the simplicity of our forms of conveyance, have greatly facilitated (he change of real estate from one proprietor to another. The conse- quence of all these causes has been, a great subdivision of the soil, and a great equality of condition ; the true basis " most certainly of a popular government. — " If the people," says Harrington, « hold three parts in four of the territory, it is plain there can neither be any single person nor nobili- ty able to dispute the government with them ; in this case, therefore, except force he interposed, they govern them- selves." The history of other nations may teach us how favorable to pubUc liberty is the division of the soil into small freeholds, and a system of laws, of which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, to produce and to preserve a degree of equality of property. It has been estimated, if I mistake not, that about the time of Henry the VII., four-fifths of the land in England was holden by the great barons and ecclesiastics. The effects of a growing commerce soon afterwards began to break in on this state of things, and before the revolution in 1688, a vast change had been wrought. It may be thought probable, that for the last half century, the process of subdi- vision in England, has been retarded if not reversed ; that the great weight of taxation has compelled many of the lesser freeholders to dispose of their estates, and to seek em- ployment in the army and navy ; in the profession of civil life ; in commerce or in the colonies. The effect of this .on the British constitution cannot but be most unfavorable, 3 26 Webster's discourse. A few large estates grow larger ; but the number of those who have no estates also increases ; and there may be danger, lest the inequality of property become so great, that those who possess it may be dispossessed by force ; in other words, that the government may be overturned. A most interesting experiment of the effect of a subdivision of property on government, is now making in France. It is understood, that the law regulating the transmission of prop, erty, in that country, now divides it, real and personal, among all the children,equally ,both sons and daugliters; and that there is, also, a very great restraint on the power of making disposi- tions of property by will. It has been supposed, that the effects of this might probably be, in time, to break up the soil into such small subdivisions, that the proprietors would be too poor to resist the encroachments of executive power. I think far otherwise. What is lost in individual wealth, will be more than gained in numbers, in intelligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. If, indeed, only one, or a few landholders were to resist the crown, like the barons of England, they must, of course, be great and powerful landholders with mul- litudes of retainers, to promise success. But if the propri- etors of a given extent of territory are summoned to resist- ance, there is no reason to believe that such resistance would be less forcible, or less successful, because the number of such proprietors should be great. Each would perceive his own importance, and his own interest, and would feel that natu- ral elevation of character which the consciousness of prop- erty inspires. A common sentiment would unite all, and numbers would not only add strength, but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a vast miUtary force, under the direction of an hereditary executive government ; and military power, it is possible, may overthrow any government. It is in vain, however, in this period of tlie world, to look for security against military power, to the arm of the great land- holders. That notion is derived from a state of things long .since past ; a state in which a feudal baron, with his retain- Webster's discourse. 27 ers, might stand against the sovereign, who was himself but the greatest baron, and his retainers. But at present, what could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of dis- ciplined troops ] Other securities, therefore, against the prevalence of military power must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so situated as that any purpose of national defence requires, ordinarily and constantly, such a military force as might seriously endanger our liberties. In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which I have alluded, I would, presumptuously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that if the government do not change the law, the law, in half a century, will change the gov- ernment ; and that this change will be not in favor of the pow- er of the croAvn, as some European writers have supposed, but against it. Those writers only reason upon what they think correct general pi'inciples, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have had experience ; and we know that a multitude of small pro- prietors, acting with intelligence, and that enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a formidable, but an invincible power. The true principle of a free and popular government would seem to be, so to construct it, as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority, an interest in its preservation : to found it, as other things are founded, on men's interest. The stability of government requires that those who desire its continuance should be more powerful than those who desire its dissolution. This power, of course, is not always to be measured by mere numbers. — Education, wealth, talents, are all parts and elements of the general aggregate of power ; but numbers, nevertheless, constitute ordinarily the most impor- tant consideration, unless indeed there be a military force, in the hands of the few, by which they can control the many. In this country we have actually existing systems of govern- ment, in the maintenance of which, it should seem, a great majority, both in numbers and in other means of power and 28 Webster's discoukse. influence, must see their interest. But this state of things is not brought about solely by written political constitutions, or the mere manner of organizing the governmennt ; but also by the laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. The freest government, if it could exist, would not be long acceptable, if the tendency of the laws were to create a rapid accumulation of property in few hands, and to render the great mass of the population dependent and pen- nyless. In such a case, the popular power would be likely to break in upon the rights of property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the exercise of popular pow- er. — Universal suffi-age, for example, could not long exist in a community, where there was great inequality of property. The holders of estates would be obliged in such case, either, in some way, to restrain the right of suffrage ; or else such right of suflfrage would, long before, divide the property. In the nature of things, those who have not property, and see their neighbors possess much more than they think them to need, cannot be favorable to laws made for the protection of property. When this class becomes numerous, it grows clamorous. It looks on property as its prey and plunder, and is naturally ready, at all times, for violence and revolu- tion. It would seem, then, to be the part of political wisdom, to found government on property ; and to establish such distri- bution of property, by the laws which regulate its transmiss- ion and alienation, as to interest the great majority of socie- ty in the support of the government. This is, I imagine, the true theory and the actual practice of our republican institu- tions. With property divided, as we have it, no other gov- ernment than that of a republic could be maintained, even were we foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, there- fore, to expect a long continuance of our systems. Party and passion, doubtless, may prevail at times, and much tem- porary mischief bo done. Even modes and forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution, Webster's discourse. 2Si' in regard to property must take place, before our govern- ments can be moved from their republican bases, unless they be violently struck off by military power. The people pos- sess the property, more emphatically than it could ever be said of the people of any other country, and they can have no interest to overturn a government which protects that property by equal laws. Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong tendencies towards the production of a dead and un- interesting level in society. Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite diversities in the characters and fortunes of individuals. Talent, activity, industry, and en- terprise tend at all times to produce inequality and distinc- • tion ; and there is room still for the accumulation of wealth, with its great advantages, to all reasonable and useful extent. It has been often urged against the state of society in America, that it furnishes no class of men of fortune and leisure. This may be partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the evil, if it be one,, would aflect rather the progress of taste and literature, than the general prosperity of the people. But the promotion of taste and literature cannot be primary objects of political institutions ; and if they could, it might be doubted, whether, in the long course of things, as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of general knowledge, as is lost by abridging the number of those whom fortune and leisure enable to devote themselves exclusively to scientific and Uterary pursits. However this may be, it is to be con- sidered that it is the spii'it of our system to be equal, and gen- eral, and if there be particular disadvantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced by the benefits which weigh against them. The important concerns of society are generally conducted, in all countries, by the men of business and practical ability ; and even in matters of taste and literature, the advantages of mere leisure are liable to be overrated. If there exist adequate means of education, and the love of letters be excited, that love will find its wav 3 * 30 Webster's discourse. to the object of its desire, through the crowd and pressure of the most busy society. Connected with this division of property, and the conse- quent participation of the great mass of people in its posses- sion and enjoyments, is the system of representation, which is admirably accommodated to our condition, better under- stood among us, and more familiarly and extensively practis- ed, in the higher and in the lower departments of government, than it has been with any other people. Great facility has been given to this in New England by the early division of the country into townships or small districts, in which all concerns of local police are regulated, and in which repre- sentatives to the legislature are elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of these little bodies. They are so many councils, or parliaments, in which connnon interests are discussed, and useful knowledge acquired and communicated. The division of governments into departments, and the division, again, of the legislative department into two cham- bers, are essential provisions in our systems. This last, although not new in itself, yet seems to be new in its appli- cation to governments wholly popular. The Grecian repub- lies, it is plain, knew nothing of it ; and in Rome, the check and balance of legislative power, such as it was, lay between the people and the Senate. Indeed few things are more difficult than to ascertain accurately the true nature and construction of the Roman commonwealth. The relative power of the senate and the people, the consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all times the same, nor at any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cicero, indeed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and a balance of the constitution, in that beautiful passage, in which he compares the democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth. " O murem preclarum, disciplinamque, quam a majoribus accepimus, si quidem tene- remus ! sed nescio quo pacto jam de manihus elabitur. Nullam enim illi nostri sapientissimi et sanctissimi viri vim concionis Webster's discourse. 31 esse voluerunt, quae scisseret plebs, aut quae populus juheret ; summota condone, distributis pariibus, tributim, ei centuriatim, descriptis ordinibus, classibus, cetatibus, auditis auctoribus, re multos dies promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Graecorum autem totae respublicae sedentis concionis temeritate administrantur. " But at what time this wise system existed in this perfec- tion at Rome, no proofs remain to show. Her constitution, originally framed for a monarchy, never seemed to be adjust- ed, in its several parts, after the expulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. The patrician and plebian orders, in- stead of being matched and joined, each in its just place and proportion, to sustain the fabric of the state, were rather like hostile powers in perpetual conflict. With us, an at- tempt has been made, and so far not without success, to divide representation into chambers, and, by difference of age, character, qualification or mode of election, to establish salutary checks, in governments altogether elective. Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet advert to another most interesting topic, the Free Schools. In this particular, New England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a peculiar character. She early adopted and has constantly maintained the principle, that it is the undoubted right, and the bounden duty of government, to provide for the instruction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left to chance, or to charity, we secure by law. For the purpose of public instruction, we hold every man subject to taxation in proportion to his property, and we look not to the question, whether he himself have, or have not, children to be benefitted by the education for which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, by which property, and life, and the peace of society are se- cured. We seek to prevent, in some measure, the extension of the penal code, by inspiring a salutary and conservative prin- ciple of virtue and of knowledge in an early age. We hope 32 Webster's discourse. to excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense of character, by enlarging the capacity, and increasing the sphere of in- tellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, we seek as far as possible, to purify the whole moral atmosphere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn the strong current of feehng and opinion, as well as the censures of the law, and the denunciations of religion, against immoral- ity and crime. We hope for a security, beyond the law, and above the law, in the prevalence of enlightened and well-principled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, when, in the villages and farm houses of New England, there may be undisturbed sleep within un- barred doors. And knowing that our government rests di- rectly on the public will, that we may preserve it, we en- deavor to give a safe and proper direction to that public will. We do not, indeed, expect all men to be philosophers or statesmen ; but we confidently trust, and our expecta- tion of the duration of our system of government rests on that trust, that by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may be secui'e, as well against open violence and overthrow, as against the slow but sure undermining of licentiousness. We know, that at the present time, an attempt is making in the English Parliament to provide by law, for the educa- tion of the poor, and that a gentleman of distinguished char- acter, (Mr. Brougham,) has taken the lead, in presenting a plan to government for carrying that purpose into eftect. And yet, although the representatives of the three king- doms listened to him with astonishment as well as delieht, we hear no principles, with which we ourselves have not been familiar from youth ; we see nothing in the plan, but an ap- proach towards that system which has been established in New England for more than a century and a half. It is said that in England, not more than one child in fifteen possesses the means of being taught to read and write ; in AVales, one in twenty ; in France, until lately, when some im- Webster's discourse!. 33 provement was made, not more than one in thirty-five. Now, it is hardly too strong to say, that in New England, every child possesses such means. It would he ditficult to find an instance to the contrary, unless where it should be owing to the negligence of the parent ; and in truth the means are actually used and enjoyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who cannot both read and write, is very unfrequently to be found. Who can make this comparison, or contemplate this spectacle, with- out delight and a feeling of just pride ? Does any history show property more beneficently applied ? Did any govern- ment ever subject the property of those who have estates, to a burden, for a purpose more favorable to the poor, or more useful to the whole community ? A conviction of the importance of public instruction was one of the earliest sentiments of our ancestors. No law- giver of ancient or modern times has expressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than the early records of the colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here. Assembled on this very spot, a hundred and fifty-three years ago, the legislature of this colony declared, " For as much as the maintenance of good literature doth much tend to the advancement of the weal and flourishing state of societies and republics, this court doth therefore order, that in whatever township in this government, consisting of fifty families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained to teach a grammar school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, to be raised by rate, on all the inhabitants." Having provided, that all youth should be instructed in the elements of learning by the institution of free schools, our ancestors had yet another duty to perform. Men were to be educated for the professions, and the public. For this purpose they founded the University, and with incredible zeal and perseverance they cherished and supported it, through all trials and discouragements. On the subject of the University, it is not possible for a son of New England 34 webstek's discourse. to think without pleasure, nor to speak Mdthout emotion. Nothing confers more honor on the state where it is estab- Ushed, or more utility on the country at large. A respecta- ble University is an establishment, which must be the work of time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new insti- tution could possess character and respectability at once. We owe deep obligation to our ancestors, who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, the work of building up this institution. Although established in a different government, the colony of Plymouth manifested warm friendship for Harvard Col- lege. At an early period, its government took measures to promote a general subscription throughout all the towns in this colony, in aid of its small funds. Other colleges were subsequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability of the people allowed ; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of education, at present enjoyed in New England, are not only adequate to the diffusion of the elements of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient also for respectable attainments in literature and the sci- ences. Lastly, our ancestors have founded their system of gov- ernment on morality and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be trusted on any other founda- tion than religious principle, nor any government be secure which is not supported by moral habits. Living under the heavenly lighj; of revelation, they hoped to find all the social dispositions, all the duties which men owe to each other and to society, enforced and performed. Whatever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. Our fathers came here to enjoy their religion free and unmolested ; and, at the end of two centuries, there is nothing upon which we can pronounce more confidently, nothing of which we can ex- press a more deep and earnest conviction, than of the inesti- mable importance of that religion to man, both in regard to this life, and that which is to come. WEBSTER^S DISCOURSE. '8S If the blessings of our political and social condition imve not been too highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty which they impose upon us. We hold these institutions of government, religion, and learning, to be transmitted as well as enjoyed. We are in the line of conveyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the spirit and efforts of our ancestors, is to be communicated to our children. We are bound to maintain public liberty, and by the ex- ample of our own systems, to convince the world, that order, and law, religion and morality, the rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and the rights of property, may all be pre- served and secured, in the most perfect manner, by a govern- ment entirely and purely elective. If we fail in this, our disaster will be signal, and will furnish an argument, stronger than has yet been found, in support of those opinions, which maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but power and coercion. As far as experience may show errors in our establishments, we are bound to correct them ; and if any practices exist, contrary to the principles of justice and humanity, within the reach of our laws or our influ- ence, we are inexcusable if we do not exert ourselves to re- strain and abolish them. ******* The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an important and delicate trust. The wealth and population of the country are now so far advanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct literature, and a well formed taste, as well as respectable progress in the abstruse sciences. The country has risen from a state of colonial dependency; it has established an independent government, and is now in the undisturbed enjoyment of peace and political security. The elements of knowledge are universally diffused, and the reading portion of the community large. Let us hope that the present may be an auspicious era of literature. If, al- .most on the day of their landing, our ancestors foun"de's SPEECH IN stript of their judicial, as well as of their legislative powers. They must be bound by a legislature, they must be tried by a jurisdiction, not their own. Their constitutions must be changed : their liberties must be abridged : and those, who shall be most infamously active in changing their constitu- lions and abridging their liberties, must, by an express pro- vision, be exempted from punishment. I do not exaggerate the matter, sir, when I extend these observations to all the colonists. The parliament meant to extend the effects of their proceedings to all the colonists. The plan, on which their proceedings are formed, extends to them all. From an incident of no very uncommon or atro- cious nature, which happened in one colony, in one town in that colony, and in which only a few of the inhabitants of that town took a part, an occasion has been taken by those, who probably intended it, and who certainly prepared the way for it, to impose upon that colony, and to lay a founda- tion and a precedent for imposing upon all the rest, a system of statutes, arbitrary, unconstitutional, oppressive, in every view, and in every degree subversive of the rights, and incon- sistent with even the name of freemen. Were the colonists so blind as not to discern the conse- quences of these measures ? Were they so supinely inactive, as to take no steps for guarding against them? They were not. They ought not to have been so. We saw a breach made in those barriers, which our ancestors, British and American, with so much care, with so much danger, with so much treasure, and with so much blood, had erected, ce- mented and established for the security of their liberties, and — with filial piety let us mention it — of ours. We saw the attack actually begun upon one part : ought we to have folded our hands in indolence, to have lulled our eyes in slumbers, till the attack was carried on, so as to become irre- sistible, in every part. Sir, I presume to think not. We were roused ; we were alarmed, as we had reason to be. But still our measures have been such as the spirit of liberty VINDICATION- OF THE COLONIES. 61 and of loyalty directed ; not such as a spirit of sedition or of disaffection would pursue. Our councils have been con- ducted witliout rashness and faction ; our resolutions have been taken without phrensy or fury. That the sentiments of every individual concerning that important object, his liberty, might be known and regarded, meetings have been held, and deliberations carried on in every particular district. That the sentiments of all those individuals might gradually and regularly be collected into a single point, and the conduct of each inspired and directed by the result of the whole united ; county committees, pro- vincial conventions, a continental congress have been ap- pointed, have met and resolved. By this means, a chain — more inestimable, and, while the necessity for it continues, we hope, more indissoluble than one of gold — a chain of free- dom has been formed, of which every individual in these co- lonies, who is willing to preserve the greatest of human bles- sings, his liberty, has the pleasure of beholding himself a link. Are these measures, sir, the brats of disloyalty, of disaf- fection ? There are miscreants among us, wasps that suck poison from the most salubrious flowers, who tell us they are. They tell us that all those assemblies are unlawful, and un- authorized by our constitutions ; and that all their delibera- tions and resolutions are so many transgressions of the duty of subjects. The utmost malice brooding over the utmost baseness, and nothing but such a hated commixture, must have hatched this calumny. Do not these men know — would they have others not to know — that it was impossible for the inhabitants of the same province, and for the legis- latures of the different provinces, to communicate their sen- timents to one another in the modes appointed for such purposes, by their different constitutions ? Do not they know — would they have others not to know — that all this was rendered impossible by those very persons, who now, or whose minions now, urge this objection against us ? Do not 6 62 Wilson's speech in they know — would they have others not to know — that the different assembUes, who could be dissolved by the govern- ors, were, in consequence of ministerial mandates, dissolved by them, whenever they attempted to turn their attention to the greatest objects, which, as guardians of the liberty of their constituents, could be presented to their view ? The arch enemy of the human race torments them only for those actions, to which he has tempted, but to which he has not necessarily obliged them. Those men refine even upon in- fernal malice ; they accuse, they threaten us, (superlative impudence!) for taking those very steps, which we were laid under the disagreeable necessity of taking by themselves, or by those in whose hateful service they are enlisted. But let them know, that our counsels, our deliberations, our reso- lutions, if not authorized by the forms, because that was rendered impossible by our enemies, are nevertheless author- ized by that which weighs much more in the scale of reason — by the spirit of our constitutions. Was the convention of the barons at Runnymede, where the tyranny of John was checked, and magna charta was signed, authorized by the forms of the constitution ? Was the convention par- liament, that recalled Charles the Second, and restored the monarchy, authorized by the forms of the constitution ? Was the convention of lords and commons, that placed king W^illiam on the throne, and secured the monarchy and liberty likewise, authorized by the forms of the constitution ? I cannot conceal my emotions of pleasure, when I observe, that the objections of our adversaries cannot be urged against us, but in common with those venerable assemblies, whose proceedings formed such an accession to British liberty and British renown. The resolutions entered into, and the recommendations given, by the continental congress, have stamped, in the plainest characters, the genuine and enlightened spirit of liberty, upon the conduct observed, and the measures pur- sued, in consequence of them. As the invasions of our VINDICATIOX OF THE COLOXIES. 63 rights have become more and more formidable, our opposi- tion to them has increased in firmness and vigor, in a just, and in no more than a just, proportion. We will not im- port goods from Great Britain or Ireland : in a Uttle time we will suspend our exportations to them : and, if the same illiberal and destructive system of policy be still carried on against us, in a little time more we will not consume their manufactures. In that colony, where the attacks have been most open, immediate and direct, some further steps have been taken, and those steps have met with the deserved ap- probation of the other provinces. Is this scheme of conduct allied to rebellion ? Can any symptoms of disloyalty to his majesty, of disinclination to his illustrious family, or of disregard to liis authority, be traced in it ? Those, who would blend, and whose crimes have made it necessary to blend, the tyrannic acts of admin- istration with the lawful measures of government, and to veil every flagitious procedure of the ministry, under the venerable mantle of majesty, pretend to discover, and employ their emissaries to publish the pretended discovery of such symptoms. We are not, however, to be imposed upon by such shallow artifices. We know that we have not violated the laws or the constitution ; and that, therefore, we are safe as long as the laws retain their force and the constitu- tion its vigor ; and that, whatever our demeanor be, we cannot be safe much longer. AN ADDRESS, TO THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF NEW JERSEY. BY WILLIAM LIVINGSTON. Ge^jtlemen, Having, already, laid before the assembly, by messages, the several matters that have occurred to me, as more par- ticularly demanding their attention, during the present ses- sion, it may seem less necessary to address you in the moi*e ceremonious form of a speech. But, conceiving it my duty to the state, to deliver my sentiments on the present situa- tion of affairs, and the eventful contest between Great Bri- tain and America, which could not, with any propriety, be conveyed in occasional messages, you will excuse my giv- ing you the trouble of attending for that purpose. After deploring with you the desolation spread through this state, by an unrelenting enemy who have, indeed, mark- ed their progress with a devastation unknown to civilized nations, and evincive of the most implacable vengeance, I heartily congratulate you upon that subsequent series of success, wherewith it hath pleased the Almighty, to crown the American arms ; and particularly on the important en- terprize against the enemy at Trenton, and the signal vic- tory obtained over them at Princeton, by the gallant troops under the command of his excellency general Washington. Considering the contemptible figure they make at present, and the disgust they have given to many of their own con- federates amongst us, by their more than Gothic ravages, (for thus doth the great Despoiler of events often deduce GOV. llVIXGSTOX's SPEECH. 65 good out of evil,) their irruption into our dominion will pro- bably redound to the public benefit. It has certainly ena- bled us the more effectually to distinguish our friends from our enemies. It has winnowed the chaff from the grain. It has discriminated the temporizing politician, who, at the first appearance of danger, was determined to secure his idol, property, at the hazard of the general weal, from the persevering patriot, who, having embarked his all in the common cause, chooses rather to risk, rather to lose that all, for the preservation of the more estimable treasure, lib- erty, than to possess it, (enjoy it he certainly could not,) upon the ignominious terms of tamely resigning his country and posterity to perpetual servitude. It has, in a word, opened the eyes of those who were made to believe, that their impious merit, in abetting our persecutors, would ex. empt them from being involved in the general calamity. But as the rapacity of the enemy was boundless, their havoc was indiscriminate, and their barbarity unparalleled. They have plundered friends and foes. Effects, capable of divis- ion, they have divided. Such as were not, they have de- stroyed. They have warred upon decrepit age ; warred upon defenceless youth. They have committed hostilities against the professors of literature, and the ministers of re- ligion ; against pubUc records, and private monuments, and books of improvement, and papers of curiosity, and against the arts and sciences. They have butchered the wounded, asking for quarter ; mangled the dying, weltering in their blood ; refused to the dead the rights of sepulture ; suffered prisoners to perish for want of sustenance ; violated the chastity of women ; disfigured private dwellings of taste and elegance ; and, in the rage of impiety and barbarism, profaned and prostrated edifices dedicated to Almighty God. And yet there are amongst us, who, either from ambitious or lucrative motives, or intimidated by the terror of their arms, or from a partial fondness for the British constitution, or deluded by insidious propositions, are secretly abetting, 6* 66 GOV. Livingston's speech to or openly aiding their machinations to deprive us of that liberty, without which man is a beast, and government a curse. Besides the inexpressible baseness of wishing to rise on the ruins of our countiy, or to acquire riches at the expense of the Uberties and fortunes of millions of our fellow-citizens, how soon would these delusive dreams, upon the conquest of America, end in disappointment 1 For where is the fund to recompense those retainers to the British army ? Was every estate in America to be confiscated, and converted into cash, the product would not satiate the avidity of their na- tional dependants, nor furnish an adequate repast for the keen appetites of their own ministerial beneficiaries. In- stead of gratuities and promotion, these unhappy accompli- ces in their tyranny, would meet with supercihous looks and cold disdain ; and, after tedious attendance, be finally told by their haughty masters, that they, indeed, approved the treason, but despised the traitor. Insulted, in fine, by their pretended protectors, but real betrayers, and goaded with the stings of their own consciences, they would remain the frightful monuments of contempt and divine indignation, and linger out the rest of their days in self-condemnation and remorse ; and, in weeping over the ruins of their coun- try, which themselves had been instrumental in reducing to desolation and bondage. Others there are, who, terrified by the power of Britain, have persuaded themselves, that she is not only formidable, but irresistible. That her power is great, is beyond ques- tion ; that it is not to be despised, is the dictate of common prudence. But, then, we ought also to consider her as weak in council, and ingulfed in debt ; reduced in her trade ; re- duced in her revenue ; immersed in pleasure ; enervated with luxury ; and, in dissipation and venality, surpassing all Europe. We ought to consider her as hated by a potent rival, her natural enemy, and particularly exasperated by her imperious conduct in the last war, as well as her inso* THE LEGISLATURE OF NEW JERSEY. 67 lent manner in commencing it ; and thence inflamed with resentment, and only watching a favorable juncture for opening hostilities. We ought to consider the amazing ex- pense and difficulty of transporting troops and provisions above three thousand miles, with the impossibility of re- cruiting their army at a less distance ; save only with such recreants, whose conscious guilt must, at the first approach of danger, appal the stoutest heart. Those insuperable ob- stacles are known and acknowledged by every virtuous and impartial man in the nation. Even the author of this hor- rid war, is incapable of conceaUng his own confusion and distress. Too great to be wholly suppressed, it frequently discovers itself in the course of his speech — a speech terri- ble in word, and fraught with contradiction ; breathing threatenings and betraying terror ; a motley mixture of magnanimity and consternation, of grandeur and abasement. With troops invincible, he dreads a defeat, and wants rein- forcements. Victorious in America, and triumphant on the ocean, he is a humble dependant on a petty prince ; and apprehends an attack on his own metropolis ; and, with full confidence in the friendship and alliance of France, he trembles upon his throne at her secret designs and open pre- parations. With all this, we ou^ht to contrast the numerous and hardy sons of America, inured to toil, seasoned alike to heat and cold, hale, robust, patient of fatigue, and, from their ar- dent love of liberty, ready to face danger and death ; the immense extent of continent, which our infatuated enemies have undertaken to subjugate ; tlie remarkable unanimity of its inhabitants, notwithstanding the exception of a few apostates and deserters ; their unshaken resolution to main- tain their freedom or perish in the attempt ; the fertility of our soil in all kinds of provisions necessary for the support of war ; our inexhaustible internal resources for military stores and naval armaments ; our compai'ative economy in public expenses ; and the millions we save by having repro- 68 GOV. Livingston's speech to bated the further exchange of our vakiable staples for the worthless baubles and finery of English manufacture. Add to this, that in a cause so just and righteous on our part, we have the highest reason to expect the blessing of heaven upon our glorious conflict. For, who can doubt the inter- position of the Supremely Just, in favor of a people, forced to recur to arms in defence of every thing dear and precious, against a nation deaf to our complaints, rejoicing in our misery, wantonly aggravating our oppressions, determined to divide our substance, and, by fire and sword, to compel us into submission ? Respecting the constitution of Great Britain, bating cer- tain royal prerogatives of dangerous tendency, it has been applauded by the best judges ; and displays, in its original structure, illustrious proofs of wisdom and the knowledge of human nature. But what avails the best constitution with the worst administration ? For, what is their present go- vernment, and what has it been for years past, but a pen- sioned confederacy against reason, and virtue, and honor, and patriotism, and the rights of man ? What were the leaders, but a set of political craftsmen, flagiciously conspir- ing to erect the babel, despotism, upon the ruins of the an- cient and beautiful fabric of law ; a shameless cabal, notori- ously employed in deceiving the prince, corrupting the par- liament, debasing the people, depressing the most virtuous, and exalting the most profligate; in short, an insatiable junto of public spoilers, lavishing the national wealth, and, by peculation and plunder, accumulating a debt already enormous ? And what was the majority of their parliament, formerly the most august assembly in the world, but venal pensioners to the crown ; a perfect mockery of all popular representation ; and, at the absolute devotion of every mi- nister ? What were the characteristics of their administra- tion of the provinces ? The substitution of regal instruc- tions in the room of law ; the multiplication of officers to strengthen the court interest ; perpetually extending the THE LEGISLATURE OF NEW JERSEY. 69 prerogatives of the king, and retrenching the rights of the subjects ; advancing to the most eminent stations men, with- out education, and of the most dissohite manners ; employ. ing, with the people's money, a band of emissaries to mis- represent and traduce the people ; and, to crown the system of misrule, sporting our persons and estates, by filling the highest seats of justice with bankrupts, bullies and block- heads. From such a nation, (though all this we bore, and should perhaps have borne for another century, had they not avow- edly claimed the unconditional disposal of life and property,) it is evidently our duty to be detached. To remain happy or safe, in our connexion with her, became thenceforth utterly impossible. She is moreover precipitating her own fall, or the age of miracles is returned, and Britain a phe- nomenon in the political world, without a parallel. The proclamations to ensnare the timid and credulous, are be- yond expression disingenuous and tantalizing. In a gilded pill they conceal real poison : they add insult to injury. After repeated intimations of commissioners to treat with America, we are presented, instead of the peaceful olive- branch, with the devouring sword : instead of being visited by plenipotentiaries to bring matters to an accommodation, we are invaded by an army, in their opinion, able to subdue us. And upon discovering their error, the terms propound- ed amount to this : " If you will submit without resistance, we are content to take your property, and spare your lives ; and then (the consummation of arrogance !) Me will gra- ciously pardon you, for having hitherto defended both." Considering, then, their bewildered councils, their blunder- ing ministry, their want of men and mone)'^, their impaired credit and declining commerce, their lost revenues and star- ving islands, the corruption of their parliament, with the effeminacy of their nation, and the success of their enter- prize is against all probabiUty. Considering further, the horrid enormity of their waging war against their own 70 GOV. Livingston's speech to brethren, expostulating for an audience, complaining of in- juries, and supplicating for redress, and Avaging it with a ferocity and vengeance unknown to modern ages, and con- trary to all laws, human and divine ; and we can neither question the justice of our opposition, nor the assistance of heaven to crown it with victory. Let us not, however, presumptuously rely on the interpo- sition of providence, without exerting those efforts which it is our duty to exert, and which our bountiful Creator has enabled us to exert. Let us do our part to open the next campaign with redoubled vigor ; and until the United States have humbled the pride of Britain, and obtained an honora- ble peace, cheerfully furnish our proportion for continuing the war — a war, founded, on our side, in the immutable ob- ligation of self-defence, and in support of freedom, of virtue, and every thing tending to ennoble our nature, and render a people happy ; on their part, prompted by boundless avarice, and a thirst for absolute sway, and built on a claim repug- nant to every principle of reason and equity — a claim sub- versive to all liberty, natural, civil, moral and religious ; incompatible with human happiness, and usurping the attri- butes of Deity, degrading man and blaspheming God. Let us all, therefore, of every rank and degree, remember our plighted faith and honor, to maintain the cause with our lives and fortunes. Let us inflexibly persevere in prosecu- ting, to a happy period, what has been so gloriously begun, and hitherto so prosperously conducted. And let those, in more distinguished stations, use all their influence and au- thority, to rouse the supine, to animate the irresolute, to conflrm the wavering, and to draw from his lurking hole the skulking neutral, who, leaving to others the heat and burden of the day, means in the final result to reap the fruits of that victory, for which he will not contend. Let us be pe- culiarly assiduous in bringing to condign punishment those detestable parricides, who have been openly active against their country. And may we, in all our deliberations and THE LEGISLATURE OF NEW JERSEY. 71 proceedings, be influenced and directed by the great Arbiter of the fate of nations, by whom empires rise and fall, and who will not always suffer the sceptre of the wicked to rest on the lot of the righteous, but in due time avenge an injured people on their unfeeling oppressor, and his bloody instru- ments. EXTRACT FROM AN ADDRESS, DELIVERED ON THE LAYING THE CORNER STONE OF THE BUNKER-HILL MONUMENT. BY DANIEL WEBSTER. We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely deposited in the universal remembrance of man- kind. We know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but a part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself with mak- ing known to all future times. We know, that no inscrip- tion on entablatures less broad than the earth itself, can carry information of the events we commemorate, where it has not already gone ; and that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the memorial. But our object is, by this edifice to show our deep sense of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors ; and, by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive similar senti- ments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the Revolution. Human beings are composed not of reason only, but of imagination also, and sentiment ; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right direction to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the heart. Let it not be sup- posed that our object is to perpetuate national hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national Webster's address. 73 independence, and we wish that the Hght of peace may rest upon it forever. We rear a memorial of our conviction ot that unmeasured benefit, which has been conferred on our land, and of the happy influences, which have been produ- ced, by the same events, on the general interests of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot, which must forever be dear to us and our posterity. We wish, that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguished, where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event, to every class and every age. We wish, that infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish, that labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish, that in those days of disaster, which, as they come on all nations, must be expected to come on us also, des- ponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power still stand strong. We wish, that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed spires of so many temples dedi- cated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that the last object on the sight of him who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which shall remind him of the liberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit. We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important, that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in our times, compressed within the compass of a single life. When has it happened that history has had so much to record, in the same term of years, as since the 17th of June, 1775? Our own Revolution, which, under 7 74 Webster's addkess, other circumstances, might itself have been expected to OC' casioned a war of half a century, has been achieved ; twenty- four sovereign and independent states erected ; and a gen- eral government established over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its establish- ment should have been accomplished so soon, were it not far the greater wonder, that it should have been established at all. Two or three millions of people have been augmented to twelve ; and the great forests of the West prostrated be- neath the arm of successful industry ; and the dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi, become the fellow- citizens and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New England. We have a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored ; navies, which take no law from superior force ; revenues, adequate to all the exigencies of the government, almost without taxation ; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights and mutual respect. Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty revolution, which, while it has been felt in the indi- vidual condition and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the centre her political fabric, and dashed against one another, thrones which had stood tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example has been folloAved ; and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free government have reached us from beyond the track of the sun ; and at this moment the domin- ion of European power, in this continent, from the place where we stand to the south pole, is annihilated forever. In the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been the general progress of knowledge ; such the improve- ments in legislation, in commerce, in the arts, in letters, and above all, in liberal ideas, and the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems changed. Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things which have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker-Hill, we are but fifty years removed from it ; and AT BUNKER HILL. 75 we now stand here, to enjoy all the blessings of our own con- dition, and to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the world, while we hold still among us some of those, who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New England, to visit, once more, and under circumstances so affecting, I had almost said so over- whelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patri- otism. Venerable men ! you have eome down to us, from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now, where you stood, fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers, and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife of your country. Behold how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over your heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but all else, how changed ! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead and the dying ; the impetuous charge ; the steady and successful repulse ; the loud call to repeated assault ; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated re- sistance ! a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death ; — all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the com- bat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoy- ance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defence. All is peace ; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the 76 WEBSTER'S ADDKES^ grave forever. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils ; and he has allowed us your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you ! But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the sword have tltinned your ranks.. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes seek for you in vain amids-t this broken band. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance, and your own bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have met the common fate of men. You lived, at least, long enough to know that your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see your coun- try's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the light of liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, like 'another monir Risen on mid-noon ;' — and the sky on which you closed your eyes, was cloudless. But — ah ! — Him ! the first great Martyr in this great cause ! Him ! the premature victim of his own self-devot- ing heart ! Him ! the head of our civil councils, and the des- tined leader of our military bands ; whom nothing brought hither, but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit ; Him ! cut off" by Providence, in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling, ere he saw the star of his country rise ; pouring out his generous Wood, like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage ! how shall I struggle with the emotions, that stifle the utterance of thy name ! — Our poor work may perish ; but thine shall endure ? This monument may moulder away ; the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea ; but thy memory shall not fail ! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found, that beats to the trans- AT Btr>^KER HILL. 77 ports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit ! But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits, who hazarded or lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happines to rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy representation of the survivors of the whole Revolutionary Army. Veterans ! you are the remnant of many a well fought field. You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, Camden, Bennington and Saratoga. Veterans of half a century ! when in your youthful days, you put every thing at hazard in your coun- try's cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an hour like this ! At a period to which you could not reason- ably have expected to arrive ; at a moment of national pros- perity, such as you could never have foreseen, you are now met, here, to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to re- ceive the overflowings of a universal gratitude. But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me, that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons of the living, throng to your embraces. The scene overwhelms you, and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, and bless them ! And when you shall here have exchanged your embraces ; when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory ; then look abroad into this lovely land, which your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled ; yea, look abroad into the whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have added to freedom, and then rejoice in 78 Webster's address, the sympathy and gratitude, which beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mankind. The leading reflection, to which this occasion seems to invite ns, respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty years since the battle of Bunker-Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks the character of the present age, that, in looking at these changes, and in estimating their effect on our condition, we are obliged to consider, not what has been done in our own country only, but in others also. In these interesting times, while nations are making sepa- rate and individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a common progress ; like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at different rates, according to their several structure and management, but all moved forwai*d by one mighty current beneath, strong enough to bear onward whatever does not sink beneath it. A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and knowledge amongst men in different nations, existing in a degree heretofore unknown. Knowledge has in our time, triumphed, and is triumphing, over distance, over difference of languages, over diversity of habits, over prejudice, and over bigotry. The civilized and Christian world is fast learning the great lesson, that difference of na- tion does not imply necessary hostility, and that all contact need not be war. The whole world is becoming a common field for intellect to act in. Energy of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists, may speak out in any tongue, and the world will h^ar it. A great chord of sentiment and feeling runs through two continents, and vibrates over both. Every breeze wafts intelligence from country to country ; every wave rolls it ; all give it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a vast commerce of ideas ; there are marts and ex- changes for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellow- ship of those individual intelligences which make up the mind and opinion of the age. Mind is the great lever of all AT BUJIKER HILL. 79 things ; human thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately answered ; and the diffusion of knowledge, so astonishing in the last half century, has rendered innumera- ble minds, variously gifted by nature, competent to be com- petitors, or fellow-workers, on the theatre of intellectual ope- ration. From these causes, important improvements have taken place in the personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind are not only better fed, and better cloth- ed, but they are able also to enjoy more leisure ; they pos- sess more refinement and more self-respect. 'A superior tone of education, manners, and habits prevails. This re- mark, most true in its application to our own country, is also partly true, when applied elsewhere. It is proved by the vastly augmented consumption of those articles of man- ufacture and of commerce which contribute to the comforts and the decencies of life ; an augmentation which has far outrun the progress of population. And while the unexam- pled and almost incredible use of machinery would seem to supply the place of labor, labor still finds its occupation and its reward ; so wisely has Providence adjusted men's wants and desires to their condition and their capacity. Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made in the last half century, in the poUte and the mechanic arts, in machinery and manufactures, in commerce and agricul- ture, in letters and in science, would require volumes. I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and turn, for a mo- ment, to the contemplation of what has been done on the great question of politics and government. This is the master topic of the age ; and during the whole fifty years, it has intensely occupied the thoughts of men. The nature of civil government, its ends and uses, have been canvassed and investigated ; ancient opinions attacked and defended ; new ideas recommended and resisted, by whatever power the mind of man could bring to the controversy. From the closet and tho public halls the debate has been transfer- 80 Webster's address, red to the field ; and the world has been shaken by wars of' unexampled magnitude, and the greatest variety of fortune. A day of peace has at length succeeded ; and now that the strife has subsided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition of human society. And without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is most ap- parent, that, from the beforementioned causes of augmented knowledge and improved individual condition, a real, sub- stantial, and important change has taken place, and is taking place, greatly beneficial, on the whole, to human liberty and human happiness. The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it received an irregular and violent impulse ; it whirled along with a fearful celerity ; till at length, like the chariot wheels in the races of antiquity, it took fire from the rapidity of its own motion, and blazed onward, spreading conflagration and terror around. We learn from the result of this experiment, how fortu- nate was our own condition, and how admirably the character of our people was calculated for making the great example of popular governments. The possession of power did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long been in the habit of exercising a great portion'of self-control. Although the paramount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a large field of legislation had always been open to our colonial assemblies. They were accustomed to representative bodies and the forms of free government ; they understood the doctrine of the division of power among different branches, and the necessity of checks on each. The character of our countrymen, moreover, was sober, moral and religious ; and there was little in the change to shock their feelings of justice and humanity, or even to dis- turb an honest prejudice. We had no domestic throne to AT BUNKER HILL. 81 overturn, no privileged orders to cast down, no violent changes of property to encounter. In the American Revo- lution, no man sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy his own. None hoped for plunder or for spoil. Ra- pacity was unknown to it ; the axe was not among the in- struments of its accomplishment ; and we all know that it could not have lived a single day under any well founded im- putation of possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion. It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less aus- picious, political revolutions elsewhere, even when well in- tended, have terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the master work of the v/orld, to establish governments entirely popular, on lasting foundations ; nor is it easy, indeed, to introduce the popular principle at all, into governments to which it has been altogether a stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe has come out of the contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with greatly superior knowledge, and, in many respects, a highly improved condition. Whatever benefit has been acquired, is likely to be retained, for it consists mainly in the acquisi- tion of more enlightened ideas. And although kingdoms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold them, in the same manner they were obtained ; although ordinary and vulgar power may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won ; yet it is the glorious prerogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On the contrary it increases by the multiple of its own power ; all its ends become means ; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing has ascertained, and nothing can ascer- tain, the amount of ultimate product. Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the people have begun, in all forms of government, to think and to reason, on affairs of state. Regarding government as an institution for the public good, they demand a knowledge 82 Webster's address, of its operations, and a participation in its exercise. A call for the representative system, wherever it is not enjoyed, and where there is already intelligence enough to estimate its value, is perseveringly made. Where men may speak out, they demand it ; where the bayonet is at their throats, they pray for it. When Louis XIV. said, " I am the state," he expressed the essence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system, the people are disconnected from the state ; they are its subjects ; it is their lord. These ideas, founded in the love of power, and long supported by the excess and the abuse of it, are yielding, in our age, to other opinions ; and the civilized world seems at last to be proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and manifest truth, that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they cannot be lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. As knowledge is more and more extended, this conviction becomes more and more general. Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firmament. Life and power are scatter- ed with all its beams. The prayer of the Grecian combat- ant, when enveloped in unnatural clouds and darkness, is the appropriate political supplication for the people of every country not yet blessed with free institutions ; 'Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, Give me to see — and Ajax asks no more.' We may hope, that the growing influence of enlightened sentiments will promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars, to maintain family alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, to regulate successions to thrones, which have occupied so much room in the history of modern times, if not less likely to happen at all, will be less likely to be- come general and involve many nations, as the great prin- ciples shall be more and more established, that the interest of the world is peace, and its first great statute, that every AT BUNKER IIILL. 83 nation possesses the power of establishing a government for itself. But public opinion has attained also an influence over governments, which do not admit the popular principle into their organization. A necessary respect for the judg- ment of the world operates, in some measure, as a control over the most unlimited forms of authority. It is owing, perhaps, to this truth, that the interesting struggle of the Greeks has been suffered to go on so long, without a direct interference, either to wrest that country from its present masters, and add it to other powers, or to execute the sys- tem of pacification by force, and with united strength, lay the neck of christian and civilized Greece at the foot of the barbarian Turk. Let us thank God that we live in an age, when something has influence besides the bayonet, and when the sternest authority does not venture to encounter the scorching power of public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have mentioned, should be met by one universal burst of indignation ; the air of the civilized world ought to be made too warm to be comfortably breathed by any who would hazard it. It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that while, in the ful- ness of our countr)''s happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for instruction, in our undertaking, to a country which is now in fearful contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but for her own existence. Let her be assured, that she is not forgotten in the world ; that her efforts are applauded, and that constant prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a confident hope for her final triumph. If the true spark of religious and civil liber- ty be kindled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extin- guish it. Like the earth's central fire it may be smothered for a time ; the ocean may overwhelm it ; mountains may press it down ; but its inherent and unconquerable force will heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or another, in some place or another, the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven. 84 wrbstee's address, Among the great events of the half century, we must reckon, certainly, the revolution of South America ; and we are not likely to overrate the importance of that revolution, either to the people of the country itself or to the rest of the world. The late Spanish colonies, now independent States, under circumstances less favorable, doubtless, than attended our own revolution, have yet successfully commen- ced their national existence. They have accomplished the great object of establishing their independence ; they are known and acknowledged in the world; and although in regard to their systems of government, their sentiments on reUgious toleration, and their provisions for public instruc- tion, they may have yet much to learn, it must be admitted that they have risen to the condition of settled and estab- lished states, more rapidly than could have been reasonably anticipated. They already furnish an exhilirating exam- ple of the difference between free governments and despotic misrule. Their commerce, at this moment, creates a new activity in all the great marts of the world. They show themselves able, by an exchange of commodities, to bear a useful part in the intercourse of nations. A new spirit of enterprize and industry begins to prevail ; all the great in- terests of society receive a salutary impulse ; and the pro- gress of information not only testifies to an improved con- dition, but constitutes, itself, the highest and most essential improvement. When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of South America was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thirteen little colonies of North America habitually called themselves the 'Continent.' Borne down by colonial subjugation, monopoly, and bigotry, these vast regions of the South were hardly visible above the horizon. But in our day there hath been, as it were, a new creation. The Southern Hemisphere emerges from the sea. Its lofty mountains begin to lift themselves into the light of heaven ; its broad and fertile plains stretch out, in beauty, to the eye AT BUXKER HILL. 85 ©f civilized man, and at the mighty being of the voice of po- litical liberty the waters of darkness retire. And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the con- viction of the benefit, which the example of our country has produced, and is likely to produce, on human freedom and human happiness. And let us endeavor to comprehend, in all its magnitude, and to feel, in all its importance, the part assigned to us in the great drama of human affaii's. We are placed at the head of the system of representative and popular governments. Thus far our example shows, that such governments are compatible, not only with respec- tability and power, but with repose, with peace, with secu- rity of personal rights, with good laws and a just adminis- tration. We are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, either as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing condition, we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto proves, however, that the popular form is practicable, and that with wisdom and knowledge men may govern themselves ; and the duty in- cumbent on us is, to preserve the consistency of this cheer- ing example, and take care that nothing may weaken its authority with the world. If, in our case, the Representa- tive system ultimately fail, popular governments must bo pronounced impossible. No combination of circumstances more favorable to the experiment can ever be expected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us ; and if it should be proclaimed, that our example had become an argument against the experiment, the knell of popular liberty would be sounded throughout the earth. These are excitements to duty ; but they are not suo-. gestions of doubt. Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that surrounds us, authorize the belief, that popular governments, though subject to occasion, al variations, perhaps not always for the better, in form, Aiay yet, in their general character, be as durable and per- 8 86 WEBgXER's ADDRESS. manent as other systems. We know, indeed, that, in our country, any other is impossible. The Principle of Free Go- vernments adheres to the American soil. It is bedded in it ; immoveable as its mountains. And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation, and on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those are daily dropping from among us, who established our li- berty and our government. The great trust now descends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves to that which is pre- sented to us, as our appropriate object. We can win no lau- rels in a war for independence. Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are there places for us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders of states. Our fathers have filled them. But there remains to us a great duty of defence and preservation ; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace and the works of peace. Let us develope the resources of our land, call forth its pow- ers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects, which our condition points out to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual feeling, that these twenty. four states are one country. Let our conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act. Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a vast and splendid Monument, not of oppression and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the world may gaze, with admiration, forever. AN ORATION, DELIVERED AT BOSTON, MARCH 6, 1775. BY JOSEPH WARREN. My evek hoxored fellow-citizexs, It is not without the most humiliating conviction of my want of abiUty, that I now appear before }'ou : but the sense I have of the obUgation I am under to obey the calls of my country at all times, together with an animating re- collection of your indulgence, exhibited upon so many occa- sions, has induced me, once more, undeserving as I am, to throw myself upon that candor, which looks with kindness on the feeblest efforts of an honest mind. You will not now expect the elegance, the learning, the fire, the enraptured strains of eloquence, which charmed you when a Lovell, a Church, or a Hancock spake ; but you will permit me to say, that with a sincerity equal to theirs, I mourn over my bleeding country. With them I weep at her distress, and with them deeply resent the many injuries she has received fi-om the hands of cruel and un- reasonable men. That personal freedom is the natural right of every man, and that property, or an exclusive right to dispose of what he has honestly acquired by his own labor, necessarily arises therefrom, are truths which common sense has placed be- yond the reach of contradiction. And no man or body of men can, without being guilty of flagrant injustice, claim a right to dispose of the persons or acquisitions of any other man, or body of men, unless it can be proved that such a 8^8 warren's ORATIOJTy rio-ht has arisen from some compact between the parties^ in which it has been explicitly and freely granted. If I may be indulged in taking a retrospective view of the first settlement of our country, it will be easy to determine with what degree of justice the late parliament of Great Britain have assumed the power of giving away that pro- perty, which the Americans have earned by their labor. Our fathers, having nobly resolved never to wear the yoke of despotism, and seeing the European world, at that time, through indolence and cowardice, falling a prey to tyranny, bravely threw themselves upon the ocean, determined to find a place in which they might enjoy their freedom, or perish in the glorious attempt. Approving heaven beheld the favorite ark dancing upon the waves, and graciously preserved it until the chosen families were brought in safety to these western regions. They found the land swarming with savages, who threatened death with every kind of tor- ture. But savages, and death with torture, were far less terrible than slavery. Nothing was so much the object of their abhorrence as a tyrant's power. They knew that it was more safe to dwell with man, in his most unpolished state, than in a country where arbitrary power prevails. Even anarchy itself, that bugbear held up by the tools of power, (though truly to be deprecated,) is infinitely less dano-erous to mankind than arbitrary government. Anar- chy can be but of a short duration ; for, when men are at Uberty to pursue that course which is more conducive to their own happiness, they will soon come into it ; and from the rudest state of nature, order and good government must soon arise. But tyi'anny, when once established, entails its curses on a nation to the latest period of time ; unless some daring genius, inspired by heaven, shall, unappalled by dan- ger, bravely form and execute the arduous design of restor- ing liberty and life to his enslaved, murdered country. The tools of power, in every age, have racked their in- ventions to justify the few in sporting with the happiness of AT BOSTON. 89 the many ; and, having found their sophistry too weak to hold mankind in bondage, have impiously dared to force re- ligion, the daughter of the King of heaven, to become a prostitute in the service of hell. They taught, that prin ces, honored with the name of christian, might bid defiance to the founder of their faith, might pillage pagan coun- tries and deluge them with blood, only because they boasted themselves to be the disciples of that teacher, who strictly charged his followers to do to others as they would that others should do unto them. This country having been discovered by an English sub- ject, in the year 1620, was (according to the system which the blind superstition of those times supported,) deem- ed the property of the crown of England. Our ancestors, when they resolved to quit their native soil, obtained from king James, a grant of certain lands in North America. This they probably did to silence the cavils of their enemies, for it cannot be doubted, but they despised the pretend. ed right which he claimed thereto. Certain it is, that he might, with equal propriety and justice, have made them a grant of the planet Jupiter. And their subsequent conduct plainly shows, that they were too well acquainted with hu- manity, and the principles of natural equity, to suppose, that the grant gave them any right to take possession ; they, therefore, entered into a treaty with the natives, and bought from them the lands. Nor have I ever yet obtained any in- formation, that our ancestors ever pleaded, or that the na- tives ever regarded the grant from the English crown : the business was transacted by the parties in the same indepen. dent manner, that it would have been, had neither of them ever known or heard of the island of Great Britain. Having become the honest proprietors of the soil, they im- mediately appUed themselves to the cultivation of it ; and they soon beheld the virgin earth teeming with richest fruits, a grateful recompense for their unwearied toil. The fields began to wave with ripening harvests, and the late barren 8 * 90 warren's oraxiok", wilderness was seen to blossom like the rose. The savage natives saw, with wonder, the dehghtful change, and quick- ly formed a scheme to obtain that by fraud or force, which nature meant as the reward of industry alone. But the il- lustrious emigrants soon convinced the rude invaders, that they were not less ready to take the field for battle than for labor ; and the insidious foe was driven from their borders as often as he ventured to disturb them. The crown of England looked with indifference on the contest ; our an- cestors were left alone to combat with the natives. Nor is there any reason to believe, that it ever was intended by the one party, or expected by the other, that the grantor should defend and maintain the grantees in the peaceable possession of the lands named in the patents. And it ap- pears plainly, from the history of those times, that neither the prince nor the people of England, thought themselves much interested in the matter. They had not then any idea of a tlwusandth part of those advantages, which they since have, and we are most heartily willing they should still continue to reap from us. But when, at an infinite expense of toil and blood, this widely extended continent had been cuhivated and defend- ed ; when the hardy adventurers justly expected, that they and their descendants should peaceably have enjoyed the har- vest of those fields which they had sown, and the fruit of those vineyards which they had planted, this country was then thought worthy the attention of the British ministry ; and the only justifiable and only successful means of ren- dering the colonies serviceable to Britain, were adopted. By an intei'course of friendly offices, the two countries became so united in affection, tliat they thought not of any distinct or separate interests,^ they found both countries flourishing and happy. Britain saw her commerce extended, and her wealth increased ; her lands raised to an immense value ; her fleets riding triumphant on the ocean; the terror of her arms spreading to every quarter of the globe. The colonist AT BOSTON. 91 found himself free, and thought himself secure : he dwelt under his own vine, and under his own fig-tree, and had none to make him afraid. He knew, indeed, that by pur- chasing the manuflictures of Great Britain, he contributed to its greatness : he knew, that all the wealth that his labor produced, centered in Great Britain. But that, far from ex- citing his envy, filled him with the highest pleasure ; that thought supported him in all his toils. When the business of the day was past, he solaced himself with the contempla- tion, or perhaps entertained his listening family with the re- cital of some great, some glorious transaction, which shines conspicuously in the history of Britain : or, perhaps, his ele- vated fancy led him to foretel, with a kind of enthusiastic confidence, the glory, power and duration of an empire which should extend from one end of the earth to the other. He saw, or thought he saw, the British nation risen to a pitch of grandeur, which cast a veil over the Roman glory, and, ravished with the preview, boasted a race of British kings, whose names should echo through those realms where Cyrus, Alexander, and the Caesars were unknown ; princes, for whom millions of grateful subjects redeemed from slavery and pagan ignorance, should, with thankful tongues, offer up their prayers and praises to that transcen- dently great and beneficent being, " by whom kings reign and princes decree justice." These pleasing connexions might have continued ; these delightsome prospects might have been every day extended ; and even the reveries of the most warm imagination might have been realized ; but, unhappily for us, unhappily for Britain, the madness of an avaricious minister ot state, has drawn a sable curtain over the charming scene, and in its stead has brought upon the stage, discord, envy, hatred and revenge, with civil war close in their rear. Some demon, in an evil hour, suggested to a short-sighted financier the hateful project of transferring the whole pro- I>erty of the king's subjects in America, to his subjects in Brit- 92 . warren's oration, ain. The claim of the British parhament to tax the coloniesj can never be supported by such a transfer ; for the right of the house of commons of Great Britain, to originate any tax or grant money, is altogether derived from their being elected by the people of Great Britain to act for them; and the peo- ple of Great Britain cannot confer on their representatives a right to give or grant any thing which they themselves have not a right to give or grant personally. Therefore, it follows, that if the members chosen by the people of Great Britain, to represent them in parliament, have, by virtue of their being so chosen, any right to give or grant American property, or to lay any tax upon the lands or persons of the colonists,it is be- cause the lands and people in the colonies aYe,bonaJide, owned by, and justly belonging to the people of Great Britain. But, (as has been before observed,) every man has a right to per- sonal freedom ; consequently a right to enjoy what is ac- quired by his own labor. And it is evident, that the proper- ty in this country has been acquired by our own labor ; it is the duty of the people of Great Britain, to produce some com- pact in which we have explicitly given up to them a right to dispose of our persons or property. Until this is done, eve- ry attempt of theirs, or of those whom they have deputed to act for them, to give or grant any part of our property, is directly repugnant to every principle of reason and natui-al justice. But I may boldly say, that such a compact never existed, no, not even in imagination. Nevertheless, the re- presentatives of a nation, long famed for justice and the exercise of every noble virtue, have been prevailed on to adopt the fatal scheme ; and although the dreadful conse- quences of this wicked policy have already shaken the em- pire to its centre, yet still it is persisted in. Regardless of the voice of reason ; deaf to the prayers and supplications ; and unaffected with the flowing tears of suffering millions, the British ministry still hug the darling idol ; and every rolling year affords fresh instances of the absurd devotion with which they worship it. Alas ! how has the folly, the AT BOSTON'. 93 distraction of ihe British councils, blasted our swelling hopes, and spread a gloom over this Avestern hemisphere. The hearts of Britons and Americans, which lately felt the generous glow of mutual confidence and love, now burn with jealousy and rage. Though but of yesterday, I recollect (deeply affected at the ill-boding change,) the happy hours that passed whilst Britain and America rejoiced in the prosperity and greatness of each other. Heaven grant those halcyon days may soon return ! But now the Briton too often looks on the American with an envious eye, taught to consider his just plea for the enjoyment of his earnings, as the effect of pride and stubborn opposition to the parent country. Whilst the American beholds the Briton, as the ruffian, ready first to take away his property, and next, what is still dearer to every virtuous man, the liberty of his coun- try. When the measures of administration had disgusted the colonies to the highest degree, and the people of Great Britain had, by artifice and falsehood, been irritated against America, an army was sent over to enforce submission to certain acts of the British parliament, which reason scorned to countenance, and which placemen and pensioners were found unable to support. Martial law, and the government of a well regulated city, are so entirely different, that it has always been considered as improper to quarter troops in populous cities ; frequent disputes must necessarily arise between the citizen and the soldier, even if no previous animosities subsist. And it is further certain, from a consideration of the nature of man- kind, as well as from constant experience, that standing armies always endanger the liberty of the subject. But when the people, on the one part, considered the army as sent to enslave them, and the army, on the other, were taught to look on the people as in a state of rebcUion, it was but just to fear the most disagreeable consequences. Our fears, we have seen, were but too well grounded. 94 wakren's okation, The many injuries offered to the town, I pass over in si- lence, I cannot now mark out the path which led to that unequalled scene of horror, the sad remembrance of which takes the full possession of my soul. The sanguinary thea- tre again opens itself to view. The baleful images of terror crowd around me ; and discontented ghosts, with hollow groans, appear to solemnize the anniversary of the fifth of March. Approach we then the melancholy walk of death. Hither let me call the gay companion ; here let me drop a farewell tear upon that body which so late he saw vigorous and warm with social mirth ; hither let me lead the tender mother to weep over her beloved son — come widowed mourner, here satiate thy grief; behold thy murdered husband gasping on the ground, and to complete the pompous show of wretched- ness, bring in each hand thy infant children to bewail their father's fate — take heed, ye orphan babes, lest, whilst your streaming eyes are fixed upon the ghastly corpse, your feet slide on the stones bespattered with your father's brains ! Enough ; this tragedy need not be heightened by an infant weltering in the blood of him that gave it birth. Nature re- luctant, shrinks already from the view, and the chilled blood rolls slowly backward to its fountain. We wildly stare about, and with amazement ask, who spread this ruin about us ? What wretch has dared deface the image of his God ? Has haughty France or cruel Spain, sent forth her myrmidons ? Has the grim savage rushed again from the far distant wil- derness ; or does some fiend, fierce from the depth of hell, with all the rancorous malice which the apostate damned can feel, twang her destructive bow, and hurl her deadly arrows at our breast? No, none of these — but, how astonishing! it is the hand of Britdin tliat inflicts the wound! The arms of George, our rightful king, have been employed to shed that blood, when justice, or the honor of his crown, had called his subjects to the field. But pity, grief, astonishment, with all the softer move- AT BOSTON. 95 merits of the soul, must now give way to stronger passions. Say, fellow-citizens, what dreadful thought now swells your heaving bosoms ; you fly to arms — sharp indignation flashes from each eye — revenge gnashes her iron teeth — death grins a hideous smile, secure to drench his greedy jaws in human gore — whilst hovering furies darken all the air ! But stop, my bold adventurous countrymen ; stain not your weapons with the blood of Britons. Attend to rea- son's voice ; humanity puts in her claim, and sues to be again admitted to her wonted seat, the bosom of the brave. Revenge is far beneath the noble mind. Many, perhaps, compelled to rank among the vile assassins, do from their in- most souls, detest the barbarous action. The winged death, shot from your arms, may chance to pierce some breast that" bleeds already for your injured country. The storm subsides — a solemn pause ensues — you spare, upon condition they depart. They go — they quit your city — they no more shall give offence. Thus closes the impor- tant drama. And could it have been conceived that we again should have seen a British army in our land, sent to enforce obe- dience to acts of parliament destructive of our liberty ? But the royal ear, far distant from this western world, has been assaulted by the tongue of slander; and villains, traito- rous alike to king and country, have prevailed upon a gra- cious prince to clothe his countenance with wrath, and to erect the hostile banner against a people ever affectionate and loyal to him and his illustrious predecessors of the House of Hanover. Our streets are again filled with armed men ; our harbor is crowded with ships of war ; but these cannot intimidate us ; our liberty must be preserved ; it is far dearer than life, we hold it even dear as our allegiance ; we must defend it against the attacks of friends as well as enemies ; we cannot suffer even Britons to ravish it from us. No longer could we reflect with generous pride, on the heroic actions of our American forefathers ; no longer boast 96 WAKREN S ORATION, our origin from that far-famed island, whose warlike sons have so often drawn their well tried swords to save her from the ravages of tyranny; could we, but for a moment, enter- tain the thought of giving up our liberty. The man who meanly will submit to wear a shackle, contemns the noblest gift of heaven, and impiously affronts the God that made him free. It was a maxim of the Roman people, which eminently conduced to the greatness of that state, never to despair of the commonwealth. The maxim may prove as salutary to us now, as it did to them. Short-sighted mortals see not the numerous links of small and great events, which form the chain on which the fate of kings and nations is suspended. Ease and prosperity, though pleasing for a day, have often sunk a people into effeminacy and sloth. Hardships and dangers, though we forever strive to shun them, have fre- quently called forth such virtues, as have commanded the applause and reverence of an admiring world. Our country loudly calls you to be circumspect, vigilant, active and brave. Perhaps, (all gracious heaven avert it,) perhaps, the power of Britain, a nation great in war, by some malignant influ- ence, may be employed to enslave you ; but let not even this discourage you. Her arms, 'tis true, have filled the world with terror ; her troops have reaped the laurels of the field ; her fleets have rode triumphant on the sea ; and when, or where, did you, my countrymen, depart inglorious from the field of fight? You too can show the trophies of your fore- fathers' victories and your own ; can name the fortresses and battles you have w^on ; and many of you count the hen- orable scars of wounds received whilst fighting for your king and country. Where justice is the standard, heaven is the warrior's shield ; but conscious guilt unnerves the arm that lifts the sword against the innocent. Britain, united with these co- lonies by commerce and affection, by interest and blood, may mock the threats of France and Spain ; may be the AT BOSTON. 97 seat of universal empire. But should America, either by force, or those more dangerous engines, luxury and corrup- tion, ever be brought into a state of vassalage, Britain must lose her freedom also. No longer shall she sit the empress of the sea ; her ships nq more shall waft her thunders over the wide ocean ; the wreath shall wither on her temples; her weakened arm shall be unable to defend her coasts ; and she at last, must bow her venerable head to some proud foreigner's despotic rule. But if, from past events, we may venture to form a judg, ment of the future, we justly may expect that the devices of our enemies will but increase the triumphs of our country. I must indulge a hope that Britain's liberty, as well as ours, will eventually be preserved by the virtue of America. The attempt of the British parliament to raise a revenue from America, and our denial of their right to do it, have excited an almost universal inquiry into the right of man- kind in general, and of British subjects in particular ; the necessary result of which, must be such a liberality of sen- timent, and such a jealousy of those in power, as will, better than an adamantine wall, secure us against the future ap- proaches of despotism. The malice of the Boston port-bill has been defeated, in a very considerable degree, by giving you an opportunity of deserving, and our brethren in this and our sister colonies, an opportunity of bestowing those benefactions which have delighted your friends and astonished your enemies, not only in America, but in Europe also. And what is more valua- ble still, the sympathetic feeUngs for a brother in distress, and the grateful emotions, excited in the breast of him who finds relief, must forever endear each to the other, and form those indissoluble bonds of friendship and affection, on which the preservation of our rights so evidently depend. The mutilation of our charter has made every other colony jealous for its own ; for this, if once submitted to by us, would set on float the property and government of every 9 98 warren's oration, British settlement upon the continent. If charters are not deemed sacred, how miserably precarious is eveiy thing founded upon them ! Even the sending troops to put these acts in execution, is not without advantage to us. The exactness and beauty of their discipline inspire our youth with ardor in the pursuit of military knowledge. Charles the invincible, taught Peter the great the art of war. The battle of Pultowa convinced Charles of the proficiency Peter had made. Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of. Our enemies are numerous and powerful ; but we have many friends, determining to be free, and heaven and earth will aid the resolution. On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important question, on which rest the happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves. The faltering tongue of hoary age, calls on you to support your country. The lisping infant raises its suppliant hands, imploring defence against the monster slavery. Your fathers look from their celestial seats with smiling approbation on their sons, who boldly stand forth in the cause of virtue ; but sternly frown upon the inhuman miscreant, who, to secure the loaves and fishes to himself, would breed a serpent to destroy his children. But, pardon me, my fellow-citizens, I know you want not zeal or fortitude. You will maintain your rights, or perish in the generous struggle. However difficult the combat, you never will decline it when freedom is the prize. An inde- pendence of Great Britain is not our aim. No, our wish is, that Britain and the colonies may, like the oak and ivv, grow and increase in strength together. But whilst the in- fatuated plan of making one part of the empire slaves to the other is persisted in, the interest and safety of Britain, as well as the colonies, recjuire that the wise measures, recom- mended by the honorable the continental Congress, be steadily pursued ; whereby the unnatural contest between a parent honored, and a child beloved, may probably be brought AT BOSTOX. 99 to such an issue, as that the peace and happiness of both may be estabUshed upon a lasting basis. But if these pa- cific measures are ineffectual, and it appears that the only way to safety is through fields of blood, I know you will not turn your faces from your foes, but will, undauntedly, press forward, until tyranny is trodden under foot, and you have fixed your adored goddess liberty, fast by a Brunswick's side, on the American throne. You then, who nobly have espoused your country's cause, who generously have sacrificed wealth and ease ; who have despised the pomp and show of tinselled greatness ; refused the summons to the festive board ; been deaf to the alluring calls of luxury and mirth ; who have forsaken the downy pillow, to keep your vigils by the midnight lamp for the sal- vation of your invaded country, that you might break the fowler's snare, and disappoint the vulture of his prey — you then will reap that harvest of renown which you so justly have deserved. Your country shall pay her grateful tribute of applause. Even the children of your most inveterate enemies, ashamed to tell from whom they sprang, while they, in secret, curse their stupid, cruel parents, shall join the general voice of gratitude to those who broke the fetters which their father's forged. Having redeemed your country, and secured the blessing to future generations, who, fired by your example, shall em- ulate your virtues, and learn from you the heavenly art of making miUions happy ; with heart-felt joy, with transports all your own, you cry, the glorious work is done ; then drop the mantle to some young Elisha, and take your seats with kindred spirits in your native skies ! SPEECH^ DELIVERED IN THE CONVENTION OF DELEGATES OF VIRGINIA, MARCH 23, 1775. BY PATRICK HENRY. — eiS^^ Mr. President, No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights ; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen, if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character veiy opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question, before the House, is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery : and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfil the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of dis- loyalty towards the majesty of heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings. Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illu- sions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a pain- ful truth, and listen to the song of that syren, till she trans- forms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged henry's speech. 101 in a great and arduous struggle for liberty ? Are we dispo- sed to be of the number of those, who having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation 1 For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided ; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judg- ing of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there is in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House ? Is it that insidious smile with which our peti- tion has been lately received 1 Trust it not, sir ; it will prove a snare to your feet. Sutler not yourselves to be be- trayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious recep- tion of our petition comports with those warlike prepara- tions which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconcilia- tion ? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be recon- ciled, that force must be called in to win back our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation ; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission ? Can gen- tlemen assign any other possible motive for it ? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them ? Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we any thing new to offer upon the subject ? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. Shall we 9* . 102 HENRY S SPEECH IN THE resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done every thing that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned ; we have remonstrated ; we have supplicated ; we have pros- trated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted ; our re- monstrances have produced additional violence and insult ; our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne ! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve invio- late those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending — if wo mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and Avhich we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained — we must fight ! I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us ! They tell us, sir, that we are weak ; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger ? Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of efl^ectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not HOUSE OF DELEGATES OF VIRGINIA. 103 fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations ; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, and the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we M'ere base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged ! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable — and let it come ! I repeat it, sir, let it come ! It is in vain, sir to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun ! The next gale, that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it. Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take ; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death ! EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, DELIVERED IN COMMEMORATION OF THE FIRST SET- TLEMENT OF SALEM. BY JOSEPH STORY. It is not in the power of the scoffer, or the skeptic ; of the parasite, who fawns on courts, or the proselyte, who doats on the infalUbiUty of his own sect, to obscure the real dignity of the character of the Puritans. We may lament their errors ; we may regret their prejudices ; we may pity their infirmities ; we may smile at the stress laid by them on petty observances, and trifling forms. We may believe, that their piety was mixed up with too much gloom and se- verity ; that it was sometimes darkened by superstition, and sometimes degraded by fanaticism ; that it shut out too much the innocent pleasures of life, and enforced too strictly a discipline, irksome, cheerless, and oppressive ; that it was sometimes over rigid, when it might have been indulgent ; stern, when it might have been affectionate ; pertinacious, when concession would have been just, as well as graceful ; and flashing with fiery zeal, when charity demanded mode- ration, and ensured peace. All this, and much more, may be admitted, for they were but men, frail, fallible men, and yet leave behind solid claims upon the reverence and admi- ration of mankind. Of them it may be said with as much truth, as of any men, that have ever lived, that they acted up to their principles, and followed them out with an unfal- tering firmness. They displayed at all times a downright honesty of heart and purpose. In simplicity of life, in godly sincerity, in temperance, in humility, and in patience story's DISC0UH3E. 105 as well as in zeal, they seemed to belong to the apostolical age. Their wisdom, while it looked on this world, reached far beyond it in its aim and objects. They valued earthly pursuits no farther than they were consistent with rehgion. Amidst the temptations of human grandeur they stood un- moved, unshaken, unscduced. Their scruples of conscience, if they sometimes betrayed them into difficulty, never be- trayed them into voluntary sin. They possessed a moral courage, which looked present dangers in the face, as though they were distant or doubtful, seeking no escape, and indul- ging no terror. When in defence of their faith, of what they deemed pure and undefiled religion, we see them resign their property, their preferments, their friends, and their homes ; when we see them submitting to banishment, and ignominy, and even to death ; when we see them in foreign lands, on inhospitable shores, in the midst of sickness and famine, in desolation and disaster, still true to themselves, still confident in God's providence, still submissive to his chastisements, still thankful for his blessings, still ready to exclaim in the language of Scripture — ' We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; we are perplexed, but not in despair ; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed ;' when we see such things, where is the man, whose soul does not melt within him at the sight ? Where shall examples be sought or found more full to point out what Christianity is, and what it ought to accomplish ? What better origin could we desire, than from men of characters like these ? Men, to whom conscience was every thing, and worldly prosperity nothing. Men, whose thoughts belonged to eternity rather than to time. Men, who in the near prospect of their sacrifices, could say, as our forefix- thers did say, ' When we are in our graves, it will be all one, whether we have lived in plenty or in penury ; whether we have died in a bed of down, or locks of straw. Only this is the advantage of the mean condition, that it is a JHORE FREEDOJt TO DIE. And the Icss comfort any have in 106 story's discourse, the things of this world, the more liberty they have to lay up treasure in heaven.' Men, who in answer to the objec tion, urged by the anxiety of friendship, that they might perish by the way, or by hunger or the sword, could answer, as our forefathers did, ' We may trust God's providence for these things. Either he will keep these evils from us ; or will dispose them for our good, and enable us to bear them.' Men, who in still later days, in their appeal for protection to the throne, could say with pathetic truth and simplicity, as our forefathers did, ' that we might enjoy divine worship without human mixture, without offence to God, man, our own consciences, with leave, but not without tears, we de- parted from our country, kindred, and fathers' houses into this Patmos ; in relation whereunto we do not say, our gar- ments are become old by reason of the very long journey, but that ourselves, who came away in our strength, are by reason of long absence, many of us become greyheaded, and some of us stooping for age.' If these be not the sentiments of lofty virtue ; if they they breathe not the genuine spirit of Christianity ; if they speak not high approaches towards moral perfection ; if they possess not an enduring sublimity ; — then, indeed, have I ill read the human heart ; then, indeed, have I strangely mistaken the inspirations of religion. If men, like these, can be passed by with indifference, because they wore not the princely robes, or the sacred lawn, because they shone not in courts, or feasted in fashionable circles, then, indeed, is Christian glory a vain shadow, and human virtue a dream, about which we disquiet ourselves in vain. But it is not so — it is not so. There are those around me, whose hearts beat high, and whose lips grow eloquent, when the remembrance of such ancestors comes over their thoughts ; when they read in their deeds not the empty forms, but the essence of holy living and holy dying. Time was, when the exploits of war, the heroes of many battles, the conquerors of millions, the men, who waded through AT SALEM. 107 slaughter to thrones, the kings, whose footsteps were dark- ened with blood, and the sceptred oppressors of the earth, were alone deemed worthy themes for the poet and the ora- tor, for the song of the minstrel, and the hosannas of the multitude. Time was, when feats of arms, and tournaments, and crusades, and the high array of chivalry, and the pride of royal banners waving for victory, engrossed all minds. Time was, when the ministers of the altar sat down by the side of the tyrant, and numbered his victims, and stimulated his persecutions, and screened the instruments of his crimes — and there was praise and glory and revelry for these things. Murder, and rapine, burning cities, and desolated plains, if so be they were the bidding of royal or baronial feuds, led on by the courtier or the clan, were matters of public boast, the delight of courts, and the treasured pleasure of the fireside tales. But these times have passed away. Christianity has resumed her meek and holy reign. The Puritans have not lived in vain. The simple piety of the Pilgrims of New England casts into shade this false glitter, which dazzled and betrayed men into the worship of their destroyers. When this continent was first discovered, it became an object of cupidity to the ami ition of many of the nations of Europe. Each eagerly sought to appropriate it to itself. But it was obvious, that in the mutual struggle for power, contests of the most sanguinaiy nature would soon inter- vene, if some general principle were not adopted by the con- sent of all for the government of all. The most flexible and convenient principle, which occun'ed, was, that the first dis- covery should confer upon the nation of the discovei-er an exclusive right to the soil, for the purposes of sovereignty and settlement. This principle was accordingly adopted, and became a fundamental doctrine in the code of legal ethics, by which the European governments regulated their acquisitions. No European subject was permitted to inter- 108 story's discourse, fere with it, and the possession acquired under it was deem- ed absokite and unquestionable. In respect to desert places, the principle, as one of peace and equality of benefits, is not perhaps obnoxious to censure. But in respect to countries already inhabited, neither its general justice, nor its confor- mity to public law, entitles it to commendation. If, abstrac tedly considered, mere discovery could confer any title, the natives already possessed it by such prior discovery. If this were put aside, and mere possession could confer sove- reignty, they had that possession, and were entitled to the sovereignty. In short, it is clear, that upon the prin- ciples generally recognised by European nations, as between themselves, the natives could not be rightfully displaced. And if they were not entitled to the benefit of those princi- ples, they might still stand upon the eternal laws of natural justice, and maintain their right to share in the common in- heritance. Such a conclusion could not escape the sagacity of the statesmen and princes of the old world ; but it was quite too refined to satisfy their ambition and lust of dominion. It was easy to found an argument for the expulsion of the na- tives upon their infidelitj' and barbarism, which allowed them to be treated as the enemies of God. It was still more plausible to hold out the prospect of converting them to the Christain faith, and thus to secure a new triumph to civili- zation and the cross. If their territory was invaded, and their governments were overthrown, if they were compelled to yield to the superior genius and power of Europe, they would still receive an ample compensation in their admis- sion into the bosom of European society with its privileges and improvements. Such were some of the suggestions, by which royal ambition sought to disguise its real objects, and to reconcile to religion itself the spirit of conquest. It is but justice, however, to add, that there was no public avow- al, that the natives possessed no right whatsoever. On the contrary it was conceded, that they possessed a present right of occupancy, temporary, indeed, and limited, which might AT SALEM. 109 ba surrendered to the discovering nation, and in the mean time was entitled to respect. Our forefathers did not attempt to justify their own emi- gration and settlement, upon the European doctrine of the x'iorht of discovery. Their patent from the Crown contained a grant of this right ; but they felt that there was a more general question behind. ' What warrant have we to take that land, which is, and hath been of long time possessed by others, the sons of Adam?' Their answer is memorable for its clearness, strength, and bold assertion of principles. That which is common to all (said they) is proper to none. This savao-e people ruleth over many lands without title or proper- ty. Why may not Christians have liberty to go and dwell a- mongst them in their waste lands ? God hath given to the sons of men a two-fold right to the earth. There is a nat- ural right and a civil right. The first right was natural, w^hen men held the earth in common. When afterwards they appropriated some parcels of ground, by enclosing and peculiar manurance, this in time got them a civil right. There is more than enough land for us and them. God hath consumed them with a miraculous plague, whereby the great- er part of the country is left void of inhabitants. Besides, we shall coms in with the good leave of the natives. Such arguments were certainly not unworthy of men of scrupulous virtue. They were aided by higher considerations, by the desire to propagate Christianity among the Indians ; a de- sire, which is breathed forth in their confidential papers, in their domestic letters, in their private prayers, and in their public devotions. In this object they were not only sincere but constant. So sincere and so constant, that one of the grave accusations against them has been, that in their reli- gious zeal, they compelled the Indians, by penalties, to at- tend public worship, and allured them, by presents, to aban- don their infidelity. In truth, the pi'opagation of Christian- ity was a leading motive with many of the early promoters of the settlement; and we need no better proof of it, than 10 110 story's discourse, the establishment of an Indian school at Harvard CoUege to teach them the rudiments of Christian faith. Whatever, then, may have been the case in other parts of the continent, it is a fact, and it should not be forgotten, that our forefathers never attempted to displace the nations by force, upon any pretence of European right. They oc- cupied and cultivated what was obtained by gra.nt, or was found vacant. They constantly respected the Indians in their settlements and claims of soil. They protected them from their enemies, when they sought refuge among them. They stimulated no wars for their extermination. During the space of fifty years, but a single case of serious warfare occurred ; and though we cannot but lament the cruelties then perpetrated, there is no pretence, that they were the ag- gressors in the contest. Whatever complaints, therefore? may be justly urged by philosophy, or humanity, or religion, in our day, respecting the wrongs and injuries of the In- dians, they scarcely touch the Pilgrims of New-England. Their hands were not imbrued in innocent blood. Their hearts were not heavy with crimes and oppressions engen- dered by avarice. If they were not wholly Avithout blame, they were not deep in guilt. They might mistake the time, or the mode of christianizing and civilizing the Indians; but they did not seek pretences to extirpate them. Private hos- tilities and butcheries there might bo ; but they were not en- couraged or justified by the government. It is not, then, a just reproach, sometimes cast on their memories, that their religion narrowed down its charities to Christians only ; and forgot,and despised, and oppressed these forlorn children of the forest. There is, indeed, in the fate of these unfortunate beings, much to awaken our sympathy, and much to disturb the so- brietry of our judgment; much which may be urged to ex- cuse their own atrocities ; much in their characters, which betrays us into an involuntary admiration. What can be more melancholy than their history ? By a law of their na- ture, they seem destined to a slow, but sure extinction. Ev- AT SALEM. Ill ery where at the approach of the white man they fade away. We hear the rustUng of their footsteps, Uke that of the with- ered leaves of autumn, and they are gone forever. They pass mournfully by us, and they return no more. Two centuries ago. the smoke of their wijiwams and the fires of their councils rose in every valley from Hudson's Bay to the farthest Florida, from the ocean to the Mississippi and the lakes. The shouts of victory and the war-dance rung through the mountains and the glades. The thick arrows and deadlv tomahawk whistled through the forests ; and the hunter's trace, and the dark encampment startled the wild boasts in their lairs. The warriors stood forth in their glory. The young listened to the songs of other days. The mo- th rs played with their infants, and gazed on the scene with warm hopes of the future. The aged sat down ; but they wept not. They should soon ba at rest in fairer regions, where the Great Spirit dwelt, in a home prepared for the brave be- yond the western skies. Braver men never lived ; truer men never drew the bow. They had courage, and fortitude, and sagacity, and perseverance, beyond most of the human race. They shrunk from no dangers, and they feared no hard- ships. If they had the vices of savage life, they had the virtues also. They were true to their country, their friends, and their homes. If they forgave not injury, neither did they forget kindness. If their vengeance was terrible, their fidel- ity and generosity were unconquerable also. Their love, like their hate, stopped not on this side of the grave. But where are they ? Where are the villages, and warriors, and youth ? The sachems and the tribes ? The huntei's and their families ? They have perished. They are consumed. The wasting pestilence has not alone done the mighty work. No, — nor famine, nor war. There has been a mightier power, a moral canker, which hath eaten into their heart- cores — a plague which the touch of the white man commu- nicated — a poison, which betrayed them into a lingering 112 STOKy's DISCOVRSEj ruin. The winds of the Atlantic fan not a single region, which they may now call their own. Already the last fee- ble remnants of the race are preparing for their journey be- yond the Mississippi. I see them leave their miserable homes, the aged, the helpless, the women, and the warriors, ' few and faint, yet fearless still.' The ashes are cold on their native hearths. The smoke no longer curls round their lowly cabins. They move on with a slow, unsteady step. The white man is upon their heels, for terror or des- patch ; but they heed him not. They turn to take a last iook of their deserted villages- They cast a last glance upon the graves of their fathers. They shed no tears ; they utter no cries ; they heave no groans. There is something in their hearts which passes speech. There is some- thing in their looks, not of vengeance or submission ; but of hard necessity, which stifles both ; which choaks all utter- ance ; which has no aim or method. It is courage absorbed in despair. They linger but for a moment. Their look is onward. They have passed the fatal stream. It shall never be repassed by them, — no, never. Yet there lies not between us and them, an impassable gulf. They know, and feel, that there is for them still one remove farther, not distant, nor unseen. It is the general burial-ground of their race. Reason as we may, it is impossible not to read in such a fate, much, that we know not how to interpret ; much of provocation to cruel deeds and deep resentments ; much of apology for wrong and perfidy ; much of pity mingling with indignation ; much of doubt and misgiving as to the past ; much of painful recollections; much of dark foreboding. Philosophy may tell us, that conquest in other cases has adopted the conquered into its own bosom ; and thus at no distant period given them the common privileges of subjects ; — but that the red men are incapable of such an assimila- tion. By their very nature and character they can neither unite themselves with civil institutions, nor with safety be allowed to remain as distinct communities. Policy may AT SALEM. 113 suggest, that thoir ferocious passions, their independent spirit, and their wandering Ufe disdain the restraints of so- ciety ; that they will submit to superior force only, while it chains them to the earth by its pressure. A wilderness is essential to their habits and pursuits. They can neither be tamed nor overawed. They subsist by war or hunting ; and the game of the forest is relinquished only for the nobler game of man. The question, therefore, is necessarily re- duced to the consideration, whether the country itself shall be abandoned by civilized man, or maintained by his sword as the right of the strongest. It may be so ; perhaps, in the wisdom of Providence, it must be so. I pretend not to comprehend, or solve such weighty difficulties. But neither philosophy nor policy can shut out the feeUngs of nature. Humanity must continue to sigh at the constant sacrifices of this bold, but wasting race. And Religion, if she may not blush at the deed, must as she sees the successive victims depart, cling to the altar with a drooping heart, and mourn over a destiny without hope and without example. Let our consolation be, that our forefathers did not; pre- cipitate the evil days. Their aim was peace; their object was the propagation of Christianity. There is one other circumstance in the history of the Colony, which deserves attention, because it has afforded a theme for bitter sarcasm and harsh reproach ; and as the principal scenes of the tragedy took place on this very spot, this seems a fit occasion to rescue the character of our fore- fathers from the wanton attacks of the scoffer and the satir- ist. I allude to the memorable trials for witchcraft in this town in 1692, which terminated in the death of many inno- cent persons, partly from blind credulity and partly from overwhelming fraud. The whole of these proceedings exhibit melancholy proofs of the effect of superstition in darkening the mind, and steeUng the heart against the dictates of hu- manitv. Indeed, nothing has ever been found more vindic. 10* 114 story's DISCOt'RSE, tive and cruel than fanaticism, acting under the influence of preternatural terror, and assuming to punish offences created by its own gloomy reveries. Under such circum- stances it becomes itself the very demon, whose agency it seeks to destroy. It loses sight of all the common princi- ples of reason and evidence. It sees nothing around it but victims for sacrifice. It hears nothing but the voice of its own vengeance. It believes nothing but what is monstrous and incredible. It conjures up every phantom of supersti- tion, and shapes it to the living form of its ovv'n passions and frenzies. In short, insanity could hardly devise more re- finements in barbarity, or profligacy execute them with more malignant coolness. In the wretched butcheries of these times (for so they in fact were,) in which law and reason were frequently set at defiance, we have shocking instances of unnatural conduct. We find parents accusing their children, children their parents, and wives their hus- bands, of a crime which must bring them to the scaffold. We find innocent persons, misled by the hope of pardon, or wrought up to frenzy by the pretended sufferings of others, freely accusing themselves of the same crime. We find gross perjury practised to procure condemnations, sometimes for self-protection, and sometimes from utter recklessness of consequences. We find even religion itself made an instru- ment of vengeance. We find ministers of the gospel and judges of the land stimulating the work of persecution, until at last in its progress its desolations reached their own fire-sides. And yet, dark and sad as is this picture, it furnishes us no just reproach upon this ancient town, beyond what belongs to it in common with all New England, and, indeed, with all Christendom. Thirty years before this period there had been executions for witchcraft in this and other colonies, in Charlestown, Boston, Springfield, and Hartford. It has been justly observed by an intelligent historian, that the importance given to the New England trials proceeded more from the general panic, than from the number executed, AT SALEM. lis 'more having been put to death in a single county in Eng- land, in a short space of time, than have sufiered in all New England from the first settlement to the present time.' Our forefathers were sincere believers in the reality of witchcraft ; and the same opinion then prevailed throughout all Europe. The possibility, nay, the actual existence of a commerce with evil spirits, has had in its support the belief of many enlightened nations of the world. Mr. Justice Blackstone has not scrupled to declare, that to deny it, ' is at once flatly to contradict the revealed word of God in various passages both of the Old and New Testament.' I meddle not with this matter of controversial divinity. But it is certain, that from the earliest times it has been punished as a crime in all Christian countries, and generally, ae a mark of peculiar horror and detestation, with death. Such was its punishment in England at the time of the emigration of our ancestors ; and such it continued to bo until the reign of George the Second. Surely, when we read of convictions before so mild and enlightened a judge, as Sir Matthew Hale, it should excite no surprise, that our own judges were not superior to the delusion ; that they possessed not a wisdom bayond the law, nor a power to resist the general credulit)'. My Lord Coke, in the simplicity of his own belief, loads witches with the most opprobrious epithets, as ' horrible, devilish, and wicked offenders ;' and the Parliament of King James the First has enumerated, in studied detail, divers modes of conjuration and enchantment, upon which it has inflicted the punishment of death. Lord Bacon has lent the credit of his own great name to preserve some of the won- ders and ointments of witchcraft, with sundry wholesome restrictions upon our belief of their efficacy. And we have high authority for saying, that ' it became a science, every where much studied and cultivated, to distinguish a true witch by proper trials and symptoms.' We may lament, then, the errors of the times, which led to these persecutions. But surely our ancestors had nospe- 116 story's discourse, cial reasons for shame in belief, which had the universal sanction of their own and all former ages ; which counted in its train philosophers, as well as enthusiasts ; which was graced by the learning of prelates, as well as the counte- nance of kings ; which the law supported by its mandates, and the purest judges felt no compunctions in enforcing. Let Witch Hill remain for ever memorable by this sad ca- tastrophe, not to perpetuate our dishonor, but as an affecting, enduring proof of human infirmity ; a proof, that perfect justice belongs to one Judgment-seat only, that which is linked to the Throne of God. Time would fail me to go at large into the history of New England, and my own strength, as well as your patience, is far spent. Yet it should not be concealed, that we have a proud consciousness of the spirit and principles of our fa- thers throughout every period of their colonial existence. At no time were they the advocates of passive obedience and non-resistance to rulers at home or abroad. At all times they insisted, that the right of taxation and the right of representation were inseparable in a free government ; and that on that account the power of taxation was vested exclusively in their own colonial legislature. At all times they connected themselves, with a generous fidelity, to the fortunes of the mother country, and shared the common bur- thens, and bore the common hardships with cheerfulness. The sons of New-England were found in her ranks in battle, foremost in danger ; but, as is not unusual in colonial ser- vice, latest in the rewards of victory. An ante-revolutiona- ry historian of unquestionable accuracy has said, that ' in the course of sixty years the Province of Massachusetts hath been at a greater expense, and hath lost more of its inhabitants, than all the other colonies upon the continent taken together.' In the Indian wars, in the successive at- tacks upon the French colonies, and in the capture of Que- bec and the Canadas, they bore an honorable and important part. Even when their first charter was vacated, their re- AT SALEM. 117 sistancc to the arbitral-}- measures of Sir EdmuiHl Aiidros was but a prelude to the principles and practice of the Re- volution. Of the memorable events of a later period ; of the resist- ance to British oppression ; of the glorious war of Independ- ence ; of the subsequent establishment of the national gov- ernmant, I need not speak. They are familiar to all of us ; but though repeated for the thousandth time, they still pos- sess an animating freshness. In the struggle for independ- ence, in wliich all the colonics embarked in a common cause, and all exhibited examples of heroism and public spir- it, and in Avhich all seemed to forget themselves and re- member only their country, it would be invidious to draw comparisons of relative merit, since the true glory of each is in the aggregate achievements of all. Throughout the contest, the citizens of various states fought side by side, and shared the common toils. Their suflcrings and their fame were blended at every step, in the hour of peril, and in the hour of triumph. Let not those bo separated in death, who in life were not divided. But I may say, that New-England was not behind the other states in zeal, in public sacrifices, in contributions of men and money, in firmness of resolve, or in promptitude of action. The blood of her children was freely poured not only on her own soil, but in every field, where armies met in hostile array. It Hawed not on the land alone ; the ocean received it into its swelling bosom. Wherever the battle ra- ged, they were found ; and many a gallant spirit breathed his last breath on the deck, with his thoughts still warm with the love of his native New-England. Let a single fact con- cerning Massachusetts suffice to establish no mean claim to respect. Upon the final adjustment of the accounts of the revolutionary war, although her own soil had been but for a short period occupied by the enemy, she had expended cigh- teen million of dollars, and the balance then due to her ex- ceeded one million. One state only in the Union surpassed 118 story's discourse, her in expenditures, and none in the balance in her favor. But this would give a very inadequate view of her real ef- forts. Her voluntary bounties upon enUstments, her town and county contributions, are almost incredible, when we consider the general poverty and distress. But I forbear. Much might be urged in her favor, much in favor of her New-England sisters, which has been sometimes remember- ed, only to be forgotten. Much might be said of the long array of statesmen and divines and lawyers and physicians, of the literature and science, which have adorned our an- nals. Let it pass — let it pass. Their works shall praise them. They cannot be concealed, whenever the deeds of our country are recited. The writer of the declaration of Independence is not ours ; but the author of the act itself re- poses among us. He, who was ' first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen,' sleeps in his na- tive soil by the side of the beautiful Potomac. But the Colo- ny of Roger Williams, of narrow territory, but of ample en- terprise, may boast of one, second in excellence only to Washington. But while we review our past history, and recollect what we have been, and are, the duties of this day were but ill performed, if we stopped here ; if turning from the past, and entering on the third century of our political existence, we gave no heed to the voice of experience, and dwelt not with thoughts of earnest, busy solicitude upon the future. What is to be the destiny of this Republic ? In proposin<'' this question, I drop all thought of New-England. She has bound herself to the fate of the Union. May she be true to it, now, and for ever ; true to it, because true to herself, true to her own principles, true to the cause of religion and lib- erty throughout the world. I speak then of our common country, of that blessed mother, that has nursed us in her lap, and led us up to manhood. What is her destiny ? Whith- er does the finger of fate point ? Is the career, on which we have entered to be bright with ages of onward and up. AT SALEM. 119 warJ glory ? Or is our doom already recorded in the past history of the earth, in the past lessons of the decUne and fall of other republics? If we are to flourish with a vigorous growth, it must be (I think) by cherishing principles, in- stitutions, pursuits, and morals, such as planted, and have hitherto supported New-England. If we are to fall, may she stiil possess the melancholy consolation of the Trojan patriot ; ' Sat patriae Priamoque datum ; si Pergama dextra Defcndi possent, etiam hac defensafuissent.' I would not willingly cloud the pleasures of such a day, even with a transient shade. I would not, that a single care should fit across the polished brow of hope, if considerations of the highest moment did not demand our thoughts, and give us counsel of our duties. Who, indeed, can look around liim upon the attractions of this scene, upon the faces of the happy and the free, the smiles of youthful beauty, the graces of matron virtue, the strong intellect of manhood, and the dio-nity of age, and hail these as the accompaniments of peace and independence ; — who can look around him and not at the same time feel, that change is written on all the works of man ; that the breath of a tyrant, or the fury of a corrupt populace, may destroy in one hour, what centuries have slowly consolidated. It is the privilege of great minds, that to them ' coming events cast their shadows before.' We may not possess this privilege ; but it is true wisdom, not to blind ourselves to dangers, Avhich are in full view ; and true prudence, to guard against those, of which experience has already admonished us. When we reflect on what has been, and is, how is it pos- sible not to feel a profound sense of the responsibleness of this Republic to all future ages. What v?st motives press upon us for lofty eflforts. What brilliant prospects invite our enthusiasm. What solemn warnings at once demand our vigilance, and our confidence. 120 stoky's discourse, The old world has already revealed to us in its unsealed books the beginning and end of all its own marvellous strug- gles in the cause of liberty. Greece, lovely Greece, ' the land of scholars and the nurse of arms,' where sister republics in fair possessions chanted the praises of liberty and the gods ; where, and what is she ? For two thousand years the oppressor has bound her to the earth. Her arts are no more. The last sad relics of her temples are but the bar- racks of a ruthless soldiery ; the fragments of her columns and her palaces are in the dust, yet beautiful in ruin. She fell not, when the mighty were upon her. Her sons were united at Tliermopyte and Marathon ; and the tide of her triumph rolled back upon the Hellespont. She was con- quered by her own factions. She fell by the hands of her own people. The Man of Macedonia did not the work of destruction. It was already done by her own corruptions, banishments, a,nd dissensions. Rome, republican Rome, whose eagles glanced in the rising and setting sun, where, and what is she ? The eternal city yet remains, proud even in her desolation, noble in her decline, venerable in the majesty of religion, and calm as in the composure of death. The malaria has but travelled in the paths worn by her destroyers. More than eighteen centu- ries have mourned over the loss of her empire. A mortal disease was upon her vitals before Caesar had crossed the Rubicon ; and Brutus did not restore her health by the deep probings of the Senate chamber. The Goths and Vandals and Huns, the swarms of the North, completed only what was already begun at home. Romans betrayed Rome. The legions were bought and sold ; but the people offered the tri- bute money. And where are the republics of modern times, which clus- tered round immortal Italy ? Venice and Genoa exist but in name. The Alps, indeed, look down upon the brave and peaceful Swiss in their native flistnesses ; but the guaranty of their freedom is in their weakness, and not in their AT SALEM. 121 strength. The mountains are not easily crossed, and the vaUies are not easily retained. When the invader comes, he moves like an avalanche, carrying destruction in his path. The peasantry sinks before him The country is too poor for plunder ; and too rough for valuable conquest. Nature presents her eternal barriers on every side to check the wantonness of ambition ; and Switzerland remains with her simple institutions, a miUtary road to fairer climates, scarcely worth a permanent possession, and protected by the jealousy of her neighbors. We stand the latest, and, if we fail, probably the last ex- periment of self-government by the people. We have be- gun it under circumstances of the most auspicious nature. We are in the vigor of youth. Our growth has never been checked by the oppressions of tyranny- Our constitutions have never been enfeebled by the vices or luxuries of the old world. Such as we are, we have been from the beginning ; simple, hardy, intelligent, accustomed to self-government and self-respect. The Atlantic rolls between us and any formidable foe. Within our own territory, stretching through many degrees of latitude and longitude, we have the choice of many products, and many means of independence. The government is mild. The press is free. Religion is free. Knowledge reaches, or may reach, every home. What fair- er prospect of success could be presented ? What means more adequate to accomplish the sublime end ? What more is necessary, than for the people to preserve what they themselves have created ? Already has the age caught the spirit of our institutions. It has already ascended the Andes, and snuffed the breezes of both oceans. It has infused itself into the life-blood of Europe, and warmed the sunny plains of France, and the low lands of Holland. It has touched the philosophy of Germany and the North, and, moving onward to the South, has opened to Greece the lessons of her better days. Can it be, that America under such circumstances can 11 123 -— ' STORY S DISCOURSE. betray herself? That she is to be added to the catalogue of republics, the inscription upon whose ruins is, ' They were, but they are not.' Forbid it, my countrymen; forbid it, Heaven. I call upon you, fathers, by the shades of your ancestors, by the dear ashes which repose in this precious soil, by all you are,and all you hope to be ; resist every object of disunion, resist every encroachment upon your liberties, resist every attempt to fetter your consciences, or smother your pubUc schools, or extinguish your system of public instruction. I call upon you, mothers, by that which never fails in wo- man, the love of your offspring ; teach them, as they climb your knees, or lean on your bosoms, the blessings of liberty. Swear them at the altar, as with their baptismal vows, to be true to their country, and never to forget or forsake her. I call upon you, young men, to remember whose sons you are ; whose inheritance you possess. Life can never be too short, which brings nothing but disgrace and oppression. Death never comes too soon, if necessary in defence of the liberties of your country. I call upon you, old men, for your counsels, and your pray- ers, and your benedictions. May not your grey hairs go down in sorrow to the grave with the recollection, that you have lived in vain. May not your last sun sink in the west upon a nation of slaves. No — I read in the destiny of my country far better hopes, far brighter visions. We, who are now assembled here must soon be gathered to the congregation of other days. The time of our departure is at hand, to make way for our chil- dren upon the theatre of life. May God speed them and theirs. May he, who at the distance of another century shall stand here to celebrate this day, still look round upon a free, happy, and virtuous people. May he, have reason to exult as we do. May he, with all the enthusiasm of truth as well as of poetry, exclaim, that here is still his country. EXTRACT Fli03I AN ADDRESS, DELIVERED BEFORE THE LITERARY SOCIETIES AT CHAP- EL-HILL. BY WILLIAM GASTON. Deeply rooted principles of probity, confirmed habits of industry, and a determination to rely on one's own exertion, constitute then the great preparation for the discharge of the duties of man, and the best security for performing thera with honor to one's self and benefit to others. But it may be asked, what is there in such a life of never-ending toil, effort and privation, to recommend it to the acceptance of the young and the gay ? Those who aspire to heroic renown, may indeed make up their minds to embrace these " hard doctrines ;" but it may be well questioned, whether happi- ness is not preferable to greatness, and enjoyment more de- sirable than distinction. Let others, if they will, toil up "the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar," we choose rather to sport in luxurious ease and careless glee in the valley below. It is, indeed, on those who aspire to emi- nence, that these injunctions are intended to be pressed with the greatest emphasis, not only because a failure in them would be more disastrous than in others, but because they arc exposed to greater and more numerous dangers of error. But it is a sad mistake to suppose that they are not suited to all, and are not earnestly urged upon all, however humble their pretensions or moderate their views. Happiness, as well as greatness, enjoyment as well as renown, have no friends so sure as Integrity, Diligence and Independence. We are not placed here to waste our days in wanton riot or 124 Gaston's address, inglorious ease, with appetites perpetually gratified and never palled, exempted from all care and solicitude, with life ever fresh, and joys ever new. He who has fitted us for our condition, and assigned to us its appropriate duties, has not left his work unfinished, and omitted to provide a penalty for the neglect of our oWigations. Labour is not more the duty, than the blessing of man. Without it, there is neither mental nor physical vigor, health, cheerfulness nor anima- tion ; neither the eagerness of hope, nor the capacity to enjoy. Every human being must have some object to en- gage his attention, excite his wishes, and rouse him to action, or he sinks, a prey to listlessness. For want of proper oc- cupations, see strenuous idleness resorting to a thousand expedients — the race-course, the bottle, or the gaming-table, the frivolities of fashion, the debasements of sensuality, the petty contentions of envy, the grovelling pursuits of avarice, and all the various distracting agitations of vice. Call you these enjoyments? Is such the happiness which it is so dreadful to forego ? "Vast happiness enjoy thy gay allies I " A youth of follies, an old age of cares, "Young yet enervate, old yet never wise ; " Vice wastes their vigor and their mind impairs. " Vain, idle, dissolute, in thoughtless ease, "Reserving woes for age, their prime they spend; " All wretched, hopeless to the evil days, " With sorrow to the verge of life they tend ; " Grieved with the present, of the past ashamed ; "They live and are despised, they die, no more are named." If to every bounty of Providence there be annexed, as as- suredly there is, some obligation as a condition for its en- joyment : on us, blest as we have been, and as we now are, with the choicest gifts of Heaven here below — with freedom, peace, order, civiUzation and social virtue — then are unqes- tionably imposed weighty obligations. You whom I now address, will, in a few years, be among the men of the suc- ceeding age. In a country lilio ours, where the public will AT CIIArEL HILL. 125 is wholly unfettered, and every man is a component part of that country, tliere is no individual so humble who has not duties of a public kind to discharge. His views and actions have an influence on those of others, and his opinions, with theirs, serve to make up that public will. IMore especially is this the case with those who, whatever may be their pursuits in life, have been raised by education to a comparative su- periority in intellectual vigor and attainments. On you, and such as you, depends the fate of the most precious heri- tage ever won by the valor, or preserved by the prudence, or consecrated by the virtue of an illustrious ancestry — illustri- ous, not because of factitious titles, but nature's nobles, wise, good, generous and brave ! To you, and such as you, will be confided in deposit, the institutions of our renowned a^id beloved country. Receive them with awe, cherish them with loyalty, and transmit them whole, and if possible, im- proved to your children. Yours will, indeed, be no sinecure office. As the public will is the operative spring of all pub- lic action, it will be your duty to make and to keep the public will enlightened. There will always be some error to dispel, some prejudice to correct, some illusion to guard against, some imposition to detect and expose. In aid of these indi- vidual efforts, you must provide, by public institutions, for diffusing among the people, that general information without which they cannot be protected from the machinations of deceivers. As your country grows in years, you must also cause it to grow in science, literature, arts and refinement. It will be for you to develope and multiply its resources, to check the faults of manners as they rise, and to advance the cause of industry, temperance, moderation, justice, morals and religion, all around you. On you too, will devolve the duty which has been too long neglected, but which cannot with impunity be neglected much longer, of providing for the mitigation, and (is it too much to hope for in North Carolina?) for the ultimate extirpation of the worst evil that afflicts the southern part of our confederacy. Full well do 11* 126 Gaston's address, you knoAv to what I refer, for on this subject there is with all of us, a morbid sensitiveness which gives Avarning even of an ap- proach to it. Disguise the truth as we may, and throw the blame where we will, it is Slavery which, more than any other cause, keeps us back in the career of improvement. It sti- fles industry and represses enterprize — it is fatal to economy and providence — it discourages skill — impairs our strength as a community, and poisons morals at the fountain head. How this evil is to be encountered, how subdued, is indeed a difficult and delicate inquiry, which this is not the time to examine, nor the occasion to discuss. I felt, however, that I could not discharge my duty without referring to this sub- ject, as one which ought to engage the prudence, moderation and firmness of those who, sooner or later, must act deci- sively upon it. I would not depress your buoyant spirits with gloomy an- ticipations, but I should be wanting in frankness, if I did not state my conviction that you will be called to the per- formance of other duties unusually grave and important. Perils surround you and are imminent, which will require clear heads, pure intentions, and stout hearts, to discern and to overcome. There is no side on which danger may not make its approach ; but from the wickedness and madness of factions, it is most menacing. Time was, indeed, when factions contended amongst us with virulence and fury ; but they were, or affected to be, at issue on questions of prin- ciple ; now, Americans band together under the names of men, and wear the livery, and put on the badges of their leaders. Then, the individuals of the different parties were found side by side, dispersed throughout the various districts of our confederated Republic ; but now, the parties that dis- tract the land, are almost identified with our geographical distinctions. Now, there has come that period, foreseen and dreaded by our Washington, by him "Avho, more than any other individual, founded this our wide-spreading Empire, and gave to our western world independence and freedom" AT CHAPEL HILL. 127 — by him, who with a father's warning voice, bade us be- ware of "parties founded on geographical discriminations." As yet, the sentiment so deeply planted in the hearts of our honest yeomanry, that union is strength, has not been up- rooted. As yet, they acknowledge the truth, and feel the force of the homely, but excellent aphorism, " United we stand, divided we fall." As yet, they take pride in the name of " the United States" — in recollection of the fields that were won, the blood which was poured forth, and the glory which was gained in the common cause, and under the com- mon banner of a united country. May God, in his mercy, forbid that I, or you, my friends, should live to see the day, when these sentiments and feelings shall bo extinct ! When- ever that day comes, then is the hour at hand, when this glorious Republic, this at once national and confederated Republic, which for nearly half a century has presented to the eyes, the hopes and the gratitude of man, a more brilliant and lovely image than Plato, or More, or Harrington, ever feigned or fancied, shall be like a tale that is told, like a vis- ion that hath passed away. But these sentiments and feel- ings are necessarily weakened, and in the end must be de- stroyed, unless the moderate, the good and the wise united, '* frown indignantly upon the first dawnings of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together its various parts." Threats of resistance, secession, separation — have become common as household words, in the wicked and silly violence of public declairners. The public ear is familiariz- ed, and the public mind will soon be accustomed, to the de- testable suggestions of Disunon! Calculations and con- jectures, what may the East do without the South, and what may the South do without the East, sneers, menaces, re- proaches, and recriminations, all tend to the same fatal end ! What can the East do v/ithout the South ? What can the South do without the East ? They may do much ; they may exhibit to the curiosity of political anatomists, and the 128 Gaston's addeess, pity and wonder of the world, the "disjecta rnembra,^^ the sundered bleeding limbs of a once gigantic body instinct with hfe and strength and vigor. They can furnish to the philosophic historian, another melancholy and striking in- stance of the political axiom, that all Republican confedera- cies have an inherent and unavoidable tendency to dissolu- tion. They will present fields and occasions for border wars, for leagues and counter-leagues, for the intrigues of petty statesmen, the struggles of military chiefs, for confiscations, insurrections, and deeds of darkest hue. They will gladden the hearts of those who have proclaimed, that men are not fit to govern themselves, and shed a disastrous eclipse on the hopes of rational freedom throughout the world. Solon, in his Code, proposed no punishment for parricide, treating it as an impossible crime. Such, with us, ought to be the crime of political parricide — the dismemberment of our "father-land." " Cari sunt parentes, carl sunt liberi, pro- pinqui, famiViares, sed omnes omnium caritates patria una complex a est; pro qua quis bonus dubiiet mortem appetere si ei sit prof uturus ? Quo est detesiabitior istorum immanitas qui lacerarunt scelere patriam, et in ea funditus delenda occupati ct sunt et fuerunt." If it must be so, let parties and party men continue to quar- rel with little or no regard to the public good. They may mystify themselves and others with disputations on political economy, proving the most opposite doctrines to their own satisfaction, and perhaps, to the conviction of no one else on earth. They may deserve reprobation for their selfishness, their violence, their errors, or their wickedness. They may do our country much harm. They may retard its growth, destroy its harmony, impair its character, render its insti- tutions unstable, pervert the public mind, and deprave the public morals. These are, indeed, evils, and sore evils, but the principle of life remains, and will yet struggle with assur- ed success, over these temporary maladies. Still we are great, glorious, united and free ; still we have a name that AT CHAPEL HILL. 129 is revered abroad and loved at home — a name which is a tower of strength to us against foreign wrong, and a bond of internal union and harmony — a name, which no enemy pronounces but with respect, and which no citizen hears, but with a throb of exultation. Still we have that blessed Constitution, which, with all its pretended defects, and all its alleged violations, has conferred more benefit on man, than ever yet flowed from any other human institution — which has established justice, insured domestic tranquillity, provided for the common defence, promoted the general wel- fare, and which, under God, if we be true to ourselves, will insure the blessings of Liberty to us and our posterity. Surely, such a country and such a Constitution, have claims upon you, my friends, which cannot be disregarded. I entreat and adjure you then, by all that is near and dear to you on earth, by all the obligations of patriotism, by the memory of your fathers, who fell in the great and glorious struggle, for the sake of your sons whom you would not have to blush for your degeneracy, by all your proud recollections of the past, and all your fond anticipations of the future renown of our nation — preserve that Country, uphold that Constitution. Resolve, that they shall not be lost while in your keeping, and may God Almighty strength. en you to perform that vow ! EXTRACT FR03I A SERMON, ON DUELLING. BY LYMAN BEECHER, D. D. And now let me ask you solemnly ; with these considera- tions in view, will you persist in your attachment to these guilty men ? Will you any longer, either deliberately or thoughtlessly vote for them ? Will you renounce allegiance to your Maker, and cast the bible behind your back ? Will you confide in men, void of the fear of God and destitute of moral principle ? Will you intrust life to murderers, and liberty to DESPOTS ? Are you patriots, and will you constitute those legislators, who despise you, and despise equal laws, and wage war with the eternal principles of justice? Are you christians, and, by upholding duellists, will you deluge the land with blood, and fill it with widows and with orphans ? Will you aid in the prostration of justice — in the escape of criminals — in the extinction of liberty? Will you place in the chair of state — in the senate — or on the bench of jus- tice, men who, if able, would murder you for speaking truth ? Shall your elections turn on expert shooting, and your deli- berative bodies become an host of armed men ? Will you destroy public morality by tolerating, yea, by rewarding the most infamous crimes ? Will you teach your children that there is no guilt in murder? Will you instruct them to think lightly of duelling, and train them up to destroy or be destroyed in the bloody field ? Will you bestow your suf- frage, when you know that by withholding it you may arrest this deadly evil — when this too is the only way in which it beeciier's sermon. 131 can be done, and when the present is perhaps the only peri- od in which resistance can avail — when the remedy is so easy, so entirely in your power ; and when God, if you do not punish these guilty men, will most inevitably punish you? If the widows and the orphans, which this wasting evil has created and is yearly multiplying, might all stand before you, could you witness their tears, or listen to their details of anguish? Should they point to the murderers of their fathers, their husbands, and their children, and lift up their voice, and implore your aid to arrest an evil which had made them desolate, could you disregard their cry ? Before their eyes could you approach the poll, and patronize by your vote the destroyers of their peace ? Had you beheld a dy- ing father conveyed bleeding and agonizing to his distracted family, had you heard their piercing shrieks and witnessed their frantic agony ; would you reward the savage man who had plunged them in distress ? Had the duellist destroyed your neighbor — had your own father been killed by the man who solicits your suffrage — had your son, laid low by his hand, been brought to your door pale in death and weltering in blood — would you then think the crime a small one ? Would, you honor with your confidence, and elevate to pow- er by your vote, the guilty monster? And what would you think of your neighbors, if, regardless of your agony, they should reward him ? And yet, such scenes of unutterable anguish are multiplying every year. Every year the duel- list is cutting down the neighbor of somebody. Every year, and many times in the year, a father is brought dead or dy- ing to his family, or a son laid breathless at the feet of his parents ; and every year you are patronizing by your votes the men who commit these crimes, and looking with cold indifference upon, and even mocking, the sorrows of your neighbors. Beware — I admonish you to beware, and espe- cially such of you as have promising sons preparing for ac- tive life, lest, having no feeling for the sorrows of another, 132 beecuer's sermox. you be called to weep for your own sorrow ; lest your sons fall by the hand of the very murderer for whom you vote, or by the hand of some one whom his example has trained to the work of blood. With such considerations before you, why do you wish to vote for such men ? What have they done for you, what can they do, that better men cannot as happily accomplish ? And will you incur all this guilt, and hazard all these con- sequences for nothing? Have you no religion, no con- science, no love to your country, no attachment to liberty, no humanity, no sympathy, no regard to your own welfare in this hfe, and no fear of consequences in the life to come ? Oh, my countrymen, awake ! Awake to crimes which are your disgrace — to miseries which know not a limit — to judgments which will make you desolate. EXTRACT FROM A SERMON, ON THE PR-ICTICALNESS OF A REFORM IN MORALS. BY LYMAN BEECHER, D. D. We are to consider some of the motives which should an- imate the mse and the good to make immediate and vigo- rous exertion for the reformation of morals, and the preser- vation of our laws and institutions. And certainly, the importance of the interest in jeopardy demands our first and most serious regard. If we consider only the temporal prosperity of the nation^ the interest is the most important earthly interest that ever called forth the enterprise of man. No other portion of the human race ever commenced a national existence as we commenced ours. Our very beginning was civiUzed, learn- ed and pious. The sagacious eye of our ancestors looked far down the vale of time. Their benevolence laid founda- tions, and reared superstructures, for the accommodation of distant generations. Through peril, and tears, and blood, they procured the inheritance, which, with many prayers, they bequeathed unto us. It ha« descended in an unbroken line. It is now in our possession impaired indeed by our folly, perverted and abused, but still the richest inheritance which the mercy of God contimies to the troubled earth. Nowhere beside, if you search the world over, will you find so much real liberty ; so much equality ; so much personal safety, and temporal prosperity ; so general an extension of useful knowledge ; so much religious instruction ; so much moral restraint ; and so much divine mercv, to make these 12 134 beeciier's sermon, blessings the power of God, and the wisdom of God unto salvation. Shall we throw away this precious bequest ? Shall we surrender our laws and liberties, our religion and morals, our social and domestic blessings, to the first inva- der? Shall we despair and die of fear, without an effort to avert our doom? What folly ! what infatuation ! what mad- ness to do so ! With Avhat indignation, could indignation be in heaven, would our fathers look down upon the deed. With what lamentation, could tears be in heaven, would they weep over it. With what loud voices, could they speak to us from heaven, would they beseech their degenerate chil- dren to put their trust in God, and contend earnestly for those precious institutions and laws for which they toiled and blod. 2. If we do not awake and engage vigorously in the work of reformation, it will soon be too late. Though reformation be always practicable if a people are disposed to reform, there is a point of degradation from which neither individuals nor nations are disposed to arise, and from which the Most High is seldom disposed to raise them. When irreligion and vice shall have contaminated the mass of the people, when the majority, emancipated from civil and moral restraint, shall be disposed to set aside the laws and institutions and habits of their fathers, then in- deed it may be feared that our transgressions and our sins will be upon us, and that we shall pine away and die in them. The means of preservation passing into other hands, will become the means of destruction. Talents, and official in- fluence, and the power of legislation, and all the resources of the State may be perverted to demolish our institutions, laws and usages, until every vestige of ancient wisdom and prosperity is gone. To this state of things we are hastening, and, if no effort be made to stop our progress, the sun in his course is not more resistless than our doom. Our vices are diffeinff the grave of our liberties, and preparing to entomb our glory. ox MORAL REFORM. 135 We may sleep, but the work goes on. We may despise admonition, but our destruction slumbereth not. Travelling, and worldly labor, and visiting, and amusement on the sab- bath, will neither produce nor preserve such a state of soci- et}-, as the conscientious observance of the sabbath has help- ed to produce and preserve ; the enormous consumption of ardent spirits in our land will produce neither bodies nor minds hke those which were the offspring of temperance and virtue. The neglect of family government, and family prayer, and the religious education of children, will not pro- duce such freemen as were formed by early habits of subor- dination, and the constant influence of the fear of God ; the neglect of official duty in magistrates to execute the laws, will not produce the same effects, which were produced by the vigilance and fidehty of our fathers, to restrain and punish crimes. Our institutions, civil and religious, have out-lived that domestic discipline and official vigilance in magistrates to execute the laws which rendered obedience easy and habi- tual. The laws now are beginning to operate extensively upon necks unaccustomed to the yoke, and when they shall become irksome to the majority, their execution will become impracticable. To this situation we are already reduced in some districts of the land. Drunkards reel throu'di the streets, day after day, and year after year, with entire impu- nity. Profane swearing is heard, and even by magistrates, as though they heard it not. Efforts to stop travelUng on the sabbath, have in all places become feeble, and in many places, they have wholly ceased. Informing officers com- plain that magistrates will not regard their informations, and that the public sentiment will not bear them out in execut- ing the laws ; and conscientious men who dare not violate an oath, have begun to refuse the office. The only proper characters to sustain it, the only men who can retrieve our declining state, are driven into the back ground, and their places filled with men of easy conscience, who will either 136 BEECIIER^S SEKMO:^, do nothing, or by their own example help on the ruin. TTk? public conscience is becoming caUous by the frequency and impunity of crimes. The sin of violating the sabbath is be- coming in the public estimation a little sin, and the shame of it, nothing. The disgrace is divided among so many, that none regard it. The sabbath is trodden down by a host of men, whom shame alone, in better days, would have deterred entirely from this sin. In the mean time, many, who lament these evils, are augmenting them by predicting that all is lost, encouraging the enemy, and weakening the hands of the wise and good. But tmly, we do stand on the confines of destruction. The mass is changing. We are becoming an- other people. Our habits have held us, long after those moral causes which formed them have in a great degree ceased to operate. These habits, at length,^ are giving way. So many hands have so long been employed to pull away foundations, and so few to repair the breaches, that the build- ing totters. So much enterprise has been displayed in re- moving obstructions from the current of human depravity, and so little to restore them, that the stream at length is be- ginning to run. It may be stopped now, but it will soon be- come deep, and broad, and rapid, and irresistible. The crisis then has come. By the people of this genera- tion, by ourselves probably, the amazing question is to be decided, whether the inheritance of our fathers shall be preserved, or thrown away — ^\vhether our sabbaths shall be a delight, or a loatliing — whether the taverns on that holv day, sliall be crowded with drunkards, or the sanctuary of God with humble worshippers — ^vhether riot and profanity shall fill our streets, and poverty our dwellings, and convicts our jails, and violence our land ; or whether industry, and temperance, and righteousness, shall be the stability of our times — ^whether mild laws shall receive the cheerful submis- sion of freemen, or the iron rod of a tyrant compel the trem- bling homage of slaves. Be not deceived. Human nature in this nation is like human nature everv Mhere. All actual ox MORAL REFOKM. 137 difference in our favor is adventitious, and the result of our laws, institutions, and habits. It is a moral influence which, with the blessing of God, has formed a state of society so eminently desirable. The same influence which has form- ed it, is indispensable to its preservation. The rocks and hills of New England will remain till the last conflagration; but, let the sabbath be profaned with impunity, the worship of God be abandoned, the government and religious instruc- tion of children be neglected, and the streams of intempe- rance be permitted to flow, and her glory will depart. The wall of fire will no more surround her, and the munition of rocks will no longer bs her defence. But, 3. If we do neglect our duty, and suffer our laws and in- stitutions to go down, we give them up forever. It is easy to relax, easy to retreat, but impossible, when the abomina- tion of desolation has once passed over, to rear again the prostrate altars, and gather again the fragments, and build up the ruins of demolished institutions. Neither we nor our children shall ever see another New England, if this be destroyed. All is lost irretrievably when the landmarks are once removed, and the bands which now hold us are once broken. Such institutions, and such a state of society, can be established only by such men as our fathers were, and in such circumstances as they were. They could not have made a New England in Holland. They made the attempt but failed. Nowhei'e could they have succeeded, but in a wilderness ; where they gave the precepts, and set the example, and made, and executed the laws. By vigilance, and prayer, and exertion, we may defend these institutions, retrieve much of what we have lost, and perpetuate a better state of society than can elsewhere be made by the art of man. But, let the enemy come in like a flood, and overturn, and over, turn, and no place will be found for repentance, though it be sought carefully with tears. 4. If we give up our laws and institutions, our guilt and misery will be very great. 12* 138 beecher's sekmow, We shall become slaves, and slaves to the worst of mas- ters. The profane and the profligate, men of corrupt minds, and to every good work reprobate, will be exalted to pollute us by their example, to distract us by their folly, and impo- verish us by fraud and rapine. Let loose from wholesome restraint, and taught to sin by the example of the great, a scene most horrid to be conceived, but more dreadful to be experienced, will ensue. No people are more fitted to de- struction, if they go to destruction, than we ourselves. All the daring enterprise of our countrymen emancipated from moral restraint, will become the desperate daring of unre- strained sin. Should we break the bands of Christ, and cast his cords from us, and begin the work of self-destruc- tion, it will be urged on with a malignant enterprise which has no parallel in the annals of time ; and be attended with miseries, such as the sun has never looked upon. /The hand that overturns our laws and altars is the hand of death unbarring the gate of Pandemonium, and letting /loose upon our land the crimes and the miseries of hell. Even if the Most High should stand aloof, and cast not a single ingredient into our cup of trembling, it would seem to be full of superlative wo. But he will not stand aloof. As we shall have begun an open controversy with him, he will contend openly with us ; and never, since the earth stood, has it been so fearful a thing for nations to fall into the hands of the living God. The day of vengeance is in his heart — the day of judgment has come — the great earthquake which is to sink Babylon is shaking the nations, and the waves of the mighty commotion are dashing upon every shore. Is this, then, a time to remove foundations, when the earth itself is shaken ? Is this a time to forfeit the pro- tection of God, when the hearts of men are failing; them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth ? Is this a time to run upon his neck, and the thick bosses of his buckler, when the nations are drinking blood, and fainting, and passing away in his wrath ? Is this ox MORAL REFOUM. 139 a time to throw away the shield of iaith, when his anovs are drunk with the blood of the slain ; to cut from the an- chor of hope, when the clouds are collecting, and the sea and the waves are roaring, and thunders are uttering their voices, and lightnings blazing in the heavens, and the great hail is falling from heaven upon men, and every mountain, sea, and island is fleeing in dismay from the face of an in- censed God 1 5. The judgments of God which we feel, and those which impend, call for immediate repentance and reformation. Our country has never seen such a day as this. By our sins we are fitted to destruction. God has begun in earnest, his work, his strange work, of national desolation. For many years the ordinary gains of industry have, to a great extent, been cut off. The counsels of the nation have by one part of it been deemed infatuation, and by the other part oracular wisdom ; while the action and reaction of parties have shaken our institutions to their foundations, debased our morals, and awakened animosities which expose us to dismemberment and all the horrors of civil war. But for all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still. On our seaboard, are the alarms and the plagues of war. On our frontiers is heard the trumpet of alarm mingling with the war-whoop of the savage, and the cries and dying groans of murdered families. In the south, a volcano whose raging fires and murmuring thunders have long been suppressed, is now with loud admonition threat- ening an eruption. In the midst of these calamities the anwel of God has received commission to unsheath his sword, and extend far and wide the work of death. The little child and the blooming youth, the husband and the wife, men of talents and usefulness, the ministers of tjie sanctuary and the members of the church of God, bow be- fore the stroke, and sink to the grave. That dreadful tem- pest, the sound of which, till late, was heard only from afar as it was borne across the Atlantic, has at length begun to 140 beecher's sermox, beat upon us, and those mighty burnings, the smoke of which we have hitherto beheld from afar, have begun in our nation their devouring course. Nothing can avert the tempest, and nothing can extinguish our burning, but repentance and reformation ; for it is the tempest of the wrath of God, and the fire of his indignation. 6. Our advantages to achieve a reformation of morals are great, and will render our guilt and punishment proportion- ably aggravated, if we neglect to avail oui'selves of them. We are not yet undone. The harvest is not past ; the summer is not ended. Tliere is yet remaining much health and strength, in many parts of our land. This State espe- cially, is by its laws thoroughly furnished to every good work. Let our laws be executed, and we may live for ever. Nor is their execution to be despaired of. In every town in the State the majority of the population are decidedly op- posed, it is believed, to those immoral practices which our laws condemn. And in most towns and societies, it is a small minority who corrupt with impunity the public morals. Let the friends of virtue, then, express their opinions, and unite their influence, and the laws can be executed. Crimes will become disgraceful, and the non-execution of the laws more hazardous to popularity than their faithful execution. The friends of good morals and good government, have it yet in their power to create a public opinion which nothing can resist. The wicked are bold in appearance, but they are cowards at heart ; their threats and boasting are loud, but they ai-e "vox et preterea nihil." God is against them — their own consciences are against them — the laws are against them — and let only the pubUc opinion be arrayed against them, and five shall chase a thousand, and an hun- dred shallput ton thousand to flight. It is not as if we were called upon to make new laws, and establish usages unknown before. We make no innovation. We embark in no novel experiment. We set up no new standard of morals. We encroach upon no man's liberty. ON MORAL REFORM. 141 We lord it over no man's conscience. We stand upon the defensive merely. We contend for our altars and our fire- eides. We rally around the standard which our father's reared^ and our motto is, 'the iniieritaxce which they BEUUEATHED, NO MAX SHALL TAKE FROM US.' Thc CXCCU- tive, legislative, and judicial departments of thc government are in the hands of men, who, we doubt not, will lend to the work of reformation their example, their prayers, their weight of character, official influence, and their active co- operation. And will not the clergy, and christian churches, of all denominations, array themselves on the side of good morals and the laws ? Will they not like a band of brothers, and terrible to the wicked as an army with banners, contend earnestly for the precepts of the gospel ? If with sucli means of self-preservation, we pine away and die in our sins, we shall deserve to die ; and our death will be dreadful. 7. But, were our advantages fewer than they are, the Lord will be on our side and will bless us, if we repent and endeavor to do our duty. He commands us to repent and reform, and what he com- mands his people to do, he will help them to accomplish if they make the attempt. He has promised to help tliem. He always has given efficacy, more or less, to the faithful exertions of men to do good. At the present time, in a pe- culiar manner does he smile upon every essay to do good. Not a finger is lifted in vain in any righteous cause, the result of every enterprise surpasses expectation, the grain of mustard becomes a tree, the little leaven leavens the lump. The voice of providence now is, " In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand, for this and that shall both prosper." The God in whose help we confide is also our fathers' God, who remembers mercy to the thousandth generation of them that fear him, and keep his commandments. Within the broad circumference of this covenant we stand, and neither few nor obscure arc the indications of his mercy in the inidst of wrath. 142 BEECHER's SER5I0X, 8. The woi-k of reformation is already, it may be hoped , auspiciously begun. Though in some things there is'ia fearful declension of morals, which if not arrested, will inevitably destroy us; yet it ought to be gratefully acknowledged, that in some re- spects, our moral state has for a considerable period been growing better. The progress of civilization and religion has softened the manners of the people, and banished to a great extent, that violence of passion which ended in broils and law suits. Those indecencies also, which too often pol- luted the intercourse of the sexes, and warred upon the best interests of society, have to a great extent, given place to habits of refinement and virtuev.' Though at this time there be heresies, that they which are approved may be manifest ; there has never been in this state, perhaps never in the nation, a more extensive prevalence of evangelical doctrine. Great efforts have been made also, and with signal success, to raise up a learned and pious ministry for the churches, from which, in time, a great reforming influence may be expected : for the morals of a nation will ever hold a close alliance with the talents and learning, the piety and orthodoxy, of its clergy. The number of pious persons has, in the course of fifteen years, been greatly increased, and has been attended with a more than correspondent increase of prayer. Those local weekly associations for prayer which are now spread over our land, are, most of them, of comparatively recent origin. In perfect accordance with this increased spirit of prayer, has been the effusion of the Holy Spirit in the revival of religion. These revivals have been numerous, great and glorious ; and, blessed be God, they still prevail. Their reforming influence has" been salutary beyond expression. Wherever they have existed, they have raised up the founda- tions of many generations. They have done more than all other causes to arrest our general decline, and are this mo- ment turning back the captivity of our land. The churches under their renovating influence, are beginning to maintain r,y MORAL KEFOKM. 143 a more efficient discipline, and to superintend with more fidelity the rchgioiis education of their baptized children. The principles of infidel philosophy with respect to civil government, and the government and religious education of children, have it is hoped had their day, and are retiring to to their own place, succeeded happily, by the maxims of reve- lation and common sense. The missionary spirit which is beginning to pervade our land, promises also, an auspicious reforming influence. It teaches us to appreciate more justly our own religious privi- leges, and calls off'the hearts of thousands from political and sectarian bickerings, to unite them in one glorious enter- prise of love. Who, but the Lord our God, has created that extensive and simultaneous predisposition in the public mind, to favor a work of reformation ? Who in this day of clouds and tempest, has opened the eyes of the people to recognise their dependence upon God, and his avenging hand in the judgments which they feel, and turned their hearts to seek him to an unusual extent, by fasting, and hun)iliation, and prayer? Who, indeed, has poured out upon our land, a spirit of reformation as real, if not yet as universal, as the spirit of missions? The fact is manifest from the zeal of in- dividuals, the reviving fidelity of magistrates in various places, the addresses of ecclesiastical bodies, and the forma- tion of general and local associations to suppress crimes, and support the laws and institutions of our land. The Most High, then, has begun to help us. While his judgments are abroad, the nation is beginning to learn rio-ht- eousness. These favorable circumstances do by no means supersede the necessity of special exertion; but they are joyful pledges that our labor shall not be in vain in the Lord. They are his providential voice, announcing that he is wait- ing to be gracious ; and that, if we " hearken to him, ho will soon subdue our enemies, and turn his hand against our adversaries ; that the haters of the Lord shall submit them- selves unto him, but that our time shall endure forever." Therefore, 144 beecher's sermon, 9. If we endure a little longer, the resources of the mil- lenial day will come to our aid. Many are the prophetic signs which declare the rapid ap- proach of that day. Babylon the great is fallen. The false prophet is hastening to perdition. That wicked one hath appeared, whom the Lord will destroy by the breath of his mouth and the brightness of his coming. The day of his vengeance is wasting the earth. The last vial of the wrath of God is running. The angel having the everlasting Gos- pel to preach to men, has begun his flight ; and, with trumpet sounding long, and waxing loud, is calling to the nations to look unto Jesus and be saved. Soon will the responsive song be heard from every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, as the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunder- ings, saying; allelujah, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. On the confines of such a day, shall we despair? While its blessed light is beginning to shine, shall we give up our laws and institutions, and sink down to the darkness and torments of the bottomless pit ? 10. But considerations, before which the kingdoms of this world fade and are forgotten, call us to instant exertion in the work of reformation. Every one of us must stand before the judgment scat of Christ. Every one of us, as a friend, or an enemy, •shall live under his government forever. We shall drink of the river of pleasure, or of the cup of trembling. We shall sing the song of Moses and the Lamb, or lift up our cries with the smoko of our torment. The institutions in danger, are the institutions of heaven, provided to aid us in fleeing from the wrath to come. The laws to be preserved, are laws which have lent their congenial influence to the immortal work of saving sinners. The welfare of millions through eternity, depends, under God, upon their preservation. Ye parents — which of your children can you give up to ox jioral reform. 145 the miseries of a profligate life, and the pangs of an im|>eni- tent death ? Which, undone by your example, or negligence or folly, are you prepared to meet on the left hand of your Judge ? Which, if by a miracle of mercy you should ascend to heaven, can you leave behind, to go away into everlasting punishment ? Call around you the dear children whom God has given you, and look them o'er and o'er, and, if among them all you cannot find a victim to sacrifice, awake, and with all diligence uphold those institutions which the good shepherd has provided to protect and save them. My fathers and brethren who minister at the altar — the time is short. We must soon meet our people at the bar of God ; should we meet any of them undone by our example, or sloth, or unbelief, dreadful will be the interview ! Shall we not lift up our voice as a trumpet, and do quickly, and with all our might, what our hands find to do ? Ye magistrates of a christian land, ye ministers of God for good — the people of this land, alarmed by the prevalence of crimes and by the judgments of God, look up to you for protection. By the glories and terrors of the judgment day, by the joys of heaven and the miseries of hell they beseech you, as the ministers of God, to save them and their children from the dangers of this untoward generation. Ye men of wealth and influence — will ye not help in this great attempt to reform and save our land 1 Are not these distinctions, talents, for the employment of which you must give an account to God ; and can you employ them better, than to consecrate them to the service of your generation by the will of God ? Let me entreat those unhappy men who haste to be rich by unlawful means, who thrive by the vices and ruin of their fellow men, to consider their end. How dreadful to you will be the day of death ! How intolerable, the day of judg- ment ! How many broken-hearted widows, and fatherless children, will then lift up their voices to testify against you. How many of the lost spirits will ascend from the world of 13 146 beecher's sermon. wo, to cry out against you, as the wretches who ministered to their lusts, and fitted them for destruction. In vain will you plead that if you had not done the murderous deed, other men would have done it ; or that, if you had not destroyed them, they had still destroyed themselves. If other men had done the deed, they, and not you, would answer for it ; if they had destroyed themselves without your agency, their blood would be upon their own heads. But as you contri- buted voluntarily to their destruction, you will be holden as partakers in their sin, and their blood will be required at your hands. Why, then, will you traffic in the souls and bodies of men, and barter away your souls for the gains of a momentary life ? To conclude. Let me entreat the unhappy men who are the special objects of legal restraint, to cease from their evil ways, and, by voluntary reformation, supersede the necessity of coercion and punishment. Why will you die ? What fearful thing is there in heaven, which makes you flee from that world ? What fascinating object in hell, that excites such frenzied exertion to burst every band, and overleap every mound, and force your way downward to the cham- bers of death ? Stop, I beseech you, and repent, and Jesus Christ shall blot out your sins, and remember your trans- gressions no more. Stop, and the host who follow your steps shall turn, and take hold on the path of life. Stop, and the wide waste of sin shall cease, and the song of angels shall be heard again ; " Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace, good will to men." Stop, and instead of wailing with the lost, you shall join the multitudes which no man can number, in the ascription of blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, forever and ever. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE EXPEDIENCY OF ADOPTING THE FEDERAL CON- STITUTION. BY JAMES WILSON. It has been too well known — it has been too severely felt — that the present confederation is inadequate to the govern- ment and to the exigencies of the United States. The great struggle for liberty in this country, should it be unsuccessful, will probably be the last one which we shall have for her ex- istence and prosperity, in any part of the globe. And it must be confessed, that this struggle has, in some of the stages of its progress, been attended with symptoms that foreboded no fortunate issue. To the iron hand of ty- ranny, which was lifted up against her, she manifested, indeed, an intrepid superiority. She broke in pieces the fetters which were forged for her, and showed that she was unassailable by force. But she was environed by dangers of another kind, and springing from a very different source. While she kept her eye steadily fixed on the efforts of op- pression, Ucentiousness was secretly undermining the rock on which she stood. Need I call to your remembrance the contrasted scenes, of which we have been witnesses ? On the glorious conclusion of our conflict with Britain, what high expectations were formed concerning us by others ? What high expectations did we form concerning ourselves ! Have those expecta- tions been realized 1 No. What has been the cause ? Did our citizens lose their perseverance and magnanimity ? 148 Wilson's speech ok No. Did they become insensible of resentment and indig- nation at any liigh handed attempt, that might have been made to injure and enslave them? No. What then has been the cause ? The truth is, we dreaded danger only on one side : this we manfully repelled. But on another side, danger, not less formidable, but more insidious, stole in upon us; and our unsuspicious tempers were not sufficiently at- tentive, either to its approach or to its operations. Those, whom foreign strength could not overpower, have well nigh become the victims of internal anarchy. If we become a little more particular, we shall find that the foregoing representation is by no means exaggerated. When we had baffled all the menaces of foreign power, we neglected to establish among ourselves a government that ■would ensure domestic vigor and stability. What was the consequence? The commencement of peace was the com- mencement of every disgrace and distress, that could befall a people in a peaceful state. Devoid of national power, we could not prohibit the extravagance of our importations, nor could we derive a revenue from their excess. Devoid of na- tional importance, we could not procure for our exports a tolerable sale at foreign markets. Devoid of national credit, we saw our public securities melt in the hands of the holders, like snow before the sun. Devoid of national dignity, we could not, in some instances, perform our treaties on our part ; and, in other instances, we could neither obtain nor compel the performance of them on the part of others. De- void of national energy, we could not carry into execution our own resolutions, decisions, or laws. Shall I become more particular still ? The tedious detail would disgust me : nor is it now necessary. The years of langour are past. We have felt the dishonor, with which we have been covered : we have seen the destruction with which we have been threatened. We have penetrated the causes of both, and when we have once discovered them, we have begun to search for the means of removing them. THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 149 For the confirmation of these remarks, I need only to appeal to an enumeration of facts. The proceedings of Congress, and of the several states, are replete with them. They all point out the weakness and insufficiency of the present con- federation as the cause, and an efficient general government as the only cure of our political distempers. Under these impressions, and with these views, was the late convention appointed ; and under these impressions, and with these views, the late convention met. We now see the great end which they proposed to accom- plish. It was to frame, for the consideration of their con- stituents, one federal and national constitution — a constitu- tion that would produce the advantages of good, and prevent the inconveniences of bad government — a constitution, whose beneficence and energy would pervade the whole union, and bind and embrace the interests of every part — a constitution that would ensure peace, freedom and happiness, to the states and people of America. We are now naturally led to examine the means, by which they proposed to accomplish this end. This opens more particularly to our view the important discussion before us. But previously to our entering upon it, it will not be improper to state some general and leading principles of government, which will receive particular applications in the course of our investigations. There necessarily exists in every government a power, from which there is no appeal ; and which, for that reason, may be termed supreme, absolute, and uncontrollable. Where does this power reside? To this question, wri- ters on different governments will give different answers. Sir William Blackstone will tell you, that in Britain, the power is lodged in the British parliament ; that the parlia- ment may alter the form of the government ; and that its power is absolute and without control. The idea of a con- stitution, limiting and superintending the operations of legis- lative authority, seems not to have been accurately under- 13* 150 Wilson's speech on stood in Britain. There are, at least, no traces of practice, conformable to such a principle. The British constitution is just what the British parliament pleases. When the par- liament transferred legislative authority to Henry the eighth, the act transferi'ing it could not, in the strict acceptation of the term, be called unconstitutional. To control the power and conduct of the legislature by an overruling constitution, was an improvement in the science and practice of government reserved to the American States, Perhaps some politician, who has not considered, with sufficient accuracy ,*our political systems, would answer, that, in our governments, the supreme power is vested in the constitutions. This opinion approaches a step nearer to the ti'uth, but does not reach it. The truth is, that, in our governments, the supreme, absolute, and uncontrollable pow- er remains in the people. As our constitutions are superior to our legislatures ; so the people are superior to our consti- tutions. Indeed, the superiority, in this last instance, is much greater ; for the people possess, over our constitu- tions, control in act, as well as in right. The consequence is, that the people may change the con- stitutions, whenever and however they please. This is a right, of which no positive institution can ever deprive them. These important truths, sir, are far from being merely speculative : we, at this moment, speak and deliberate un- der their immediate and beuign influence. To the operation of these truths, we are to ascribe the scene, hitherto unpar- allelled, which America now exhibits to the world — a gentle, a peaceful, a voluntary, and a deliberate transition from one constitution of government to another. In other parts of the world, the idea of revolutions in government is, by a mournful and indissoluble association, connected with the idea of wars, and all the calamities attendant on wars. But happy experience teaches us to view such revolutions in a very different light — to consider them only as progres- THE FEDERAL COIVSTITUTIOX. 151 sive steps in improving tlio knowledge of government, and increasing the happiness of society and mankind. Oft have I viewed with silent pleasure and admiration, the force and prevalence, through the United States, of this principle — that the supreme power resides in the people ; and that they never part with it. It may be called the pana- cea in politics. There can be no disorder in the community but may here receive a radical cure. If the error be in the legislature, it may be corrected by the constitution ; if in the constitution, it may be corrected by the people. There is a remedy, therefore, for every distemper in government, if the people are not wanting to themselves. For a people Avanting to themselves, there is no remedy : from their pow- er, as we have seen, there is no appeal : to their error, there is no superior principle of correction. There are three simple species of government — monarchy, where the supreme power is in a single person — aristocracy, where the supreme power is in a select assembly, the members of which either fill up, by election, the vacancies in their own body, or succeed to their places in it by inheritance, property, or in respect of some personal right or qualification — a republic or democracy, where the people at large retain the supreme power, and act either collectively or by repre- sentation. Each of these species of government has its ad- vantages and disadvantages. The advantages of a monarchy are, strength, despatch, secrecy, unity of counsel. Its disadvantages are, tyranny, expense, ignorance of the situation and wants of the people, insecurity, unnecessary wars, evils attending elections or successions. The advantage of aristocracy is, wisdom, arising from experience and education. Its disadvantages are, dissen- sions among themselves, oppression to the lower orders. The advantages of democracy are, liberty, equal, cau- tious and salutary laws, public spirit, frugality, peace, oppor- tunities of exciting and producing the abilities of the best 152 Wilson's speech. citizens. Its disadvantages are, dissensions, the delay and disclosure of public counsels, the imbecility of public mea- sures retarded by the necessity of a numerous consent. A government may be composed of two or more of the simple forms above mentioned. Such is the British govern, ment. It would be an improper government for the United States ; because it is inadequate to such an extent of terri- tory ; and because it is suited to an establishment of diffe- rent orders of men. A more minute comparison between some parts of the British constitution, and some parts of the plan before us, may, perhaps, find a proper place in a subse- quent period of our business. What is the nature and kind of that government, which has been proposed for the United States, by the late conven- tionj In its principle, it is purely democratical : but that principle is applied in different forms, in order to obtain the advantages, and exclude the inconveniences of the simple modes of government. If we take an extended and accurate view of it, we shall find the streams of power running in different directions, in different dimensions, and at different heights, watering, adorning, and fertilizing the fields and meadows, through which their courses are led ; but if we trace them, we shall discover, that they all originally flow from one abundant fountain. In this constitution, all authority is derived from THE TEOPLE. Fit occasions will hereafter offer for particular remarks on the different parts of the plan. I have now to ask pardon of the house for detaining them so long. EXTRACT FilOM A SPEECH, ON THE EXPEDIENCY OF ADOPTING THE FEDERAL CON- STITUTION. BY ALEXANDER HAMILTON. -^^^ Sir, we hear constantly a great deal, which is rather cal- culated to awake our passions, and create prejudices, than to conduct us to the truth, and teach us our real interests. I do not suppose this to be the design of the gentlemen. Why then are we told so often of an aristocracy ? For my part, I hardly know the meaning of this word as it is applied. If all we hear be true, this government is really a very bad one. But who are the aristocracy among us ? Where do we find men, elevated to a perpetual rank above their fellow- citizens ; and possessing powers entirely independent of them ? The arguments of the gentlemen only go to prove that there are men who are rich, men who are poor ; some who are wise, and others who are not. That indeed every distinguished man is an aristocrat. This reminds me of a description of the aristocrats, I have seen in a late publica- tion, styled the Federal Farmer. The author reckons in the aristocracy, all governors of states, members of congress, chief magistrates, and all officers of the militia. This de- scription, I presume to say, is ridiculous. The image is a phantom. Does the new government render a rich man more eligible than a poor one ? No. It requires no such qualification. It is bottomed on the broad and equal prin- ciple of your state constitution. Sir, if the people have it in their option, to elect their 154 Hamilton's speech on most meritorious men, is this to b3 considered as an objec- tion ? Shall the constitution oppose their wishes, and abridge their most invahiable privilege ? While property continues to be pretty equally divided, and a considerable share of in- formation pervades the community, the tendency of the people's suffrages, will be to elevate merit even from obscu- rity. As riches increase, and accumulate in few hands ; as luxury prevails in society, virtue will be in a greater degree considered as only a graceful appendage of wealth, and the tendency of things will be to depart from the republican standard. This is the real disposition of human nature : it is what neither the honorable member nor myself can cor- rect ; it is a common misfortune, that awaits our state con- stitution, as well as all others. There is an advantage incident to large districts of elec- tion, which perhaps the gentlemen, amidst all their appre- hensions of influence and bribery, have not adverted to. In large districts, the corruption of the electors is much more difficult. Combinations for the purposes of intrigue are less easily formed : factions and cabals are little known. In a small district, wealth will have a more complete influence ; because the people in the vicinity of a great man, are more immediately his dependants, and because this influence has fewer objects to act upon. It has been remarked, that it would be disagreeable to the middle class of men to go to the seat of the new government. If this be so, the difficulty will be enhanced by the gentleman's proposal. If his argu- ment be true, it proves, that the larger the representation is, the less will be your choice of having it filled. But, it ap. pears to me frivolous to bring forward such arguments as these. It has answered no other purpose, than to induce me, by way of reply, to enter into discussions, which I con- sider as useless, and not applicable to our subject. It is a harsh doctrine, that men grow wicked in propor- tion as they improve and enlighten their minds. Experi- ence has by no means justified us in the supposition, that TUE FEDERAL CONSTITUTIOX. 155 there is more virtue in one class of men than in another. Look through the rich and the poor of the community ; the learned and the ignorant. Where does virtue predominate ? The difference indeed consists, not in the quantity but kind of vices, which are incident to various classes ; and here the advantage of character belongs to the wealthy. Their vi- ces are probably more favorable to the prosperity of the state, than those of the indigent, and partake less of moral depravity. After all, sir, we must submit to this idea, that the true principle of a republic is, that the people should choose whom they please to govern them. Representation is im- perfect, in proportion as the current of popular favor is checked. This great source of free government, popular election, should be perfectly pure, and the most unbounded liberty allowed. Where this principle is adhered to ; where, in the organization of the government, the legislative, exec- utive and judicial branches are rendered distinct ; where again the legislative is divided into separate houses, and the operations of each are controlled by various checks and ba- lances, and above all, by the vigilance and weight of the state governments ; to talk of tyranny, and the subversion of our liberties, is to speak the language of enthusiasm. This balance between the national and state governments ought to be dwelt on with peculiar attention, as it is of the utmost importance. It forms a double security to the peo- ple. If one encroaches on their rights, they will find a powerful protection in the other. Indeed, they will both be prevented from overpassing their constitutional limits, by a certain rivalship, which will ever subsist betw>een them. I am persuaded, that a firm union is as necessary to perpetu- ate our liberties, as it is to make us respectable ; and expe- rience will probably prove, that the national government will be as natural a guardian of our freedom, as the state legislatures themselves. Suggestions, sir, of an extraordinary nature, have been 156 Hamilton's speech ok frequently thi'own out in the course of the present political controversy. It gives me pain to dwell on topics of this kind ; and I wish they might be dismissed. We have been told, that the old confederation has proved inefficacious, only because intriguing and powerful men, aiming at a revolu- tion, have been for ever instigating the people, and render- ing them disaffected with it. This, sir, is a false insinua- tion. The thing is impossible. 1 will venture to assert, that no combination of designing men vmder Heaven, will be capable of making a government unpopular, which is in its principles a wise and good one, and vigorous in its opera- tions. The confederation was framed amidst the agitation and tumult of society. It was composed of unsound materials put together in haste. Men of intelligence discovered the feebleness of the structure, in the first stages of its existence ; but the great body of the people, too much engrossed with their distresses, to contemplate any but the immediate causes of them, were ignorant of the defects of their constitution. But when the dangers of war were removed, they saw clear- ly what they had suffered, and what they had yet to suffer, from a feeble form of government. There was no need of discerning men to convince the people of their unhappy si- tuation ; the complaint was co-extensive with the evil, and both were common to all classes of the community. We have been told, that the spirit of patriotism, and love of H- berty, are almost extinguished among the people ; and that it has become a prevailing doctrine, that republican princi- ples ought to be hooted out of the world. Sir, I am confi- dent that such remarks as these are rather occasioned by the heat of argument, than by a cool conviction of their truth and justice. As far as my experience has extended, I have heard no such doctrine, nor have I discovered any di- minution of regard for those rights and liberties, in defence of which, the people have fought and suffered. There have been, undoubtedly, some men who have had speculative doubts THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 157 on the subject of government ; but the principles of republi- canism are founded on too firm a basis to be shaken by a few speculative and sceptical reasoners. Our error has been of a very different kind. We have erred through excess of caution, and a zeal false and impracticable. Our counsels have been destitute of consistency and stabiUty. I am flat- tered with a hope, sir, that we have now found a cure for the evils under which we have so long labored. I trust, that the proposed constitution affords a genuine specimen of representative and republican government, and that it will answer, in an eminent degree, all the beneficial purposes of society. 14 EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE EXPEDIEA'CY OF ADOPTING THE FEDERAL CON- STITUTION. BY ALEXANDER HAMILTON. Mk. Chairman, it has been advanced as a principle, that no government but a despotism, can exist in a very exten- sive country. This is a melancholy considei'ation indeed. If it were founded on truth, we ought to dismiss the idea of a republican government, even for the state of New York. This idea has been taken from a celebrated writer, who, by being misunderstood, has been the occasion of frequent fallacies in our reasoning on political subjects. But the position has been misapprehended ; and its application is entirely false and unwarrantable : it relates only to democ- racies, where the whole body of the people meet to transact business : and where representation is unknown. Such were a number of ancient, and some modern independent cities. Men who read without attention, have taken these maxims respecting the extent of country ; and, contrary to their proper meaning, have applied them to republics in gen- eral. This application is wrong in respect to all represen- tative governments ; but especially in relation to a confed- eracy of states, in which the supreme legislature has only general powers, and the civil and domestic concerns of the people are regulated by the laws of the several states. This distinction being kept in view, all the difficulty will vanish, and we may easily conceive, that the people of a large coun- try may be represented, as truly as those of a small one. An assembly constituted for general purposes, may be fully Hamilton's speech. 159 competent to every federal regulation, without being too numerous for deliberate conduct. If the state governments were to be abolished, the question would wear a different face : but this idea is inadmissible. They are absolutely necessary to the system. Their existence must form a leading principle in the most perfect constitution we could form. I insist, that it never can be the interest or desire of the national legislature, to destroy the state governments. It can derive no advantage from such an event ; but, on the contrary, would lose an indispensable support, a necessary aid in executing the laws, and conveying the influence of government to the doors of the people. The union is de- pendent on the will of the state governments for its chief magistrate, and for its senate. The blow aimed at- the members, must give a fatal wound to the head ; and the de- struction of the states must be at once a political suicide. Can the national government be guilty of this madness ? What inducements, what temptations can they have ? Will they attach new honors to their station ; will they increase the national strength ; will they multiply the national re- sources ; will they make themselves more respectable in the view of foreign nations, or of their fellow-citizens, by rob- bing the states of their constitutional privileges ? But im- agine, for a moment, that a political frenzy should seize the government ; suppose they should make the attempt — cer- tainly, sir, it would be for ever impracticable. This has been sufficiently demonstrated by reason and experience- It has been proved, that the members of republics have been, and ever will be, stronger than the head. Let us attend to one general historical example. In the ancient feudal gov- ernments of Europe, there were, in the first place, a mon- arch ; subordinate to him, a body of nobles ; and subject to these, the vassals, or the whole body of the people. The authority of the kings was limited, and that of the barons considerably independent. A great part of the early wars in Europe were contests between the king and his nobility. 160 Hamilton's speech otc In these contests, the latter possessed many advantages de- rived from their influence, and the immediate command they had over the people ; and they generally prevailed. The history of the feudal wars exhibits httle more than a series of successful encroachments on the prerogatives of monar- chy. Here, sir, is one great proof of the superiority, which the members in limited governments possess over their head. As long as the barons enjoyed the confidence and attachment of the people, they had the strength of the coun- try on their side, and were irresistible. I may be told, that in some instances the barons were overcome : but how did this happen ? Sir, they took advantage of the depres- sion of the royal authority, and the estabhshment of their own power, to oppress and tyrannize over their vassals. As commerce enlarged, and as wealth and civilization in- creased, the people began to feel their own weight and con- sequence : they grew tired of their oppressions ; united their strength with that of the prince, and threw off the yoke of aristocracy. These very instances prove what I contend for. They prove, that in whatever direction the popular weight leans, the current of power will flow : wherever the popular attachments lie, there will rest the political superi- ority. Sir, can it be supposed that the state governments will become the oppressors of the people ? Will they forfeit their affections ? Will they combine to destroy the liberties and happiness of their fellow-citizens, for the sole purpose of involving themselves in ruin ? God forbid ! The idea, -sir, is shocking ! It outrages every feeling of humanity, and every dictate of common sense ! There are certain social principles in human nature, from which we may draw the most solid conclusions, with respect to the conduct of individuals and of communities. We love our famiUes more than our neighbors : we love our neiffh- bors more than our countrymen in general. The human affections, like the solar heat, lose their intensity, as they depart from the centre, and become languid, in proportion THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION'. 161 to the expansion of the circle, on which they act. On these principles, the attachment of the individual will be first and for ever secured by the state governments : they will be a mutual protection and support. Another source of influ- ence, which has already been pointed out, is the various official connexions in the states. Gentlemen endeavor to evade the force of this, by saying that these offices will be insignificant. This is by no means true. The state officers will ever be important, because they are necessary and use- ful. Their powers are such as are extremely interesting to the people ; such as afTect their property, their liberty and life. What is more important than the administration of justice, and the execution of the civil and criminal laws ? Can the state governments become insignificant, w.hile they have the power of raising money independently, and without control ? If they are really useful ; if they are calculated to promote the essential interests of the people ; they must have their confidence and support. The states can never lose their powers, till the whole people of America are robbed of their fiberties. These must go together ; they must support each other, or meet one common fate. On the gentlemen's principle, we may safely trust the state governments, though we have no means of resisting them : but we cannot confide in the national government, though we have an effectual constitutional guard against every encroachment. This is the essence of their argument, and it is false and fallacious beyond conception. With regard to the jurisdiction of the two governments, I shall certainly admit that the constitution ought to be so formed, as not to prevent the states from providing for their own existence ; and I maintain that it is so formed ; and that their power of providing for themselves is sufficiently established. This is conceded by one gentleman, and in the next breath the concession is retracted. He says, Con- gress have but one exclusive right in taxation ; that of duties on imports: certainly, then, their other powers are only 14*" 162 Hamilton's speech on concurrent. But to take off the force of this obvious con- clusion, he immediately says, that the laws of the United States are supreme ; and that where there is one supreme, there can- not be a concurrent authority ; and further, that where the laws of the union are supreme, those of the states must be subordinate ; because, there cannot be two supremes. This is curious sophistry. That two supreme powers cannot act together, is false. They are inconsistent only when they are aimed at each other, or at one indivisible object. The laws of the United States are supreme, as to all their proper, constitutional objects : the laws of the states are supreme in the same way. These supreme laws may act on different objects, without clashing ; or they may operate on different parts of the same common object, with perfect harmony. Suppose both governments should lay a tax, of a penny, on a certain article : has not each an independent and uncon- trollable power to collect its own tax ? The meaning of the maxim, there cannot be two supremes, is simply this — two powers cannot be supreme over each other. This meaning is entirely perverted by the gentlemen. But, it is said, disputes between collectors are to be referred to the federal courts. This is again wandering in the field of conjecture. But suppose the fact certain : is it not to be presumed, that they will express the true meaning of the constitution and the laws ? Will they not be bound to consider the concur- rent jurisdiction ; to declare that both the taxes shall have equal operation ; that both the powers, in that respect, are sovereign and co-extensive? If they transgress their duty, we are to hope that they will be punished. Sir, we can reason from probabilities alone. When we leave common sense, and give ourselves up to conjecture, there can be no certain- ty, no security in our reasonings. I imagine I have stated to the committee, abundant rea- sons to prove the entire safety of the state governments, and of the people. I would go into a more minute consid- eration of the nature of the concurrent jurisdiction, and the THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 163 operation of the laws, in relation to revenue ; but at present, I feel too much indisposed to proceed. I shall, with the leave of the committee, improve another opportunity of ex- pressing to them more fully my ideas on this point. I wish the committee to remember, that the constitution under examination, is framed upon truly republican principles ; and that, as it is expressly designed to provide for the common protection and the general welfare of the United States, it must be utterly repugnaut to this constitution to subvert the state governments, or oppress the people. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. BY PATRICK HENRY. This constitution is said to have beautiful features ; but when I come to examine these features, sir, they appear to me horribly frightful. Among other deformities, it has an awful squinting ; it squints towards monarchy : and does not this raise indignation in the breast of every true Amer- ican ? Your president may easily become king. Your sen- ate is so imperfectly constructed, that your dearest rights may be sacrificed by what may be a small minority : and a very small minority may continue forever unchangeably this government, although horridly defective. Where are your checks in this government ? Your strong holds will be in the hands of your enemies. It is on a supposition that your American governors shall be honest, that all the good qualities of this government are founded ; but its defective and imperfect construction, puts it in their power to perpe- trate the worst of mischiefs, should they be bad men. And, sir, would not all the world, from the eastern to the western hemisphere, blame our distracted folly in resting our rights upon the contingency of our rulers being good or bad ? Show me that age and country where the rights and liber- ties of the people were placed on the sole chance of their rulers being good men, without a consequent loss of hberty. I say that the loss of that dearest privilege has ever follow- ed, with absolute certainty, every such mad attempt. If your American chief be a man of ambition and abilities, how henry's speech. 165 easy will it be for him to render himself absolute ! The army- is in his hands, and, if he be a man of address, it will be at- tached to him ; and it will be the subject of long meditation with him to seize the first auspicious moment to accomplish his design. And, sir, will the American spirit solely relieve you when this happens ? I would rather infinitely, and I am sure most of this convention are of the same opinion, have a king, lords and commons, than a government, so replete with such insupportable evils. If we make a king, we may prescribe the rules by which he shall rule his people, and in- terpose such checks as shall prevent him from infringing them : but the president in the field, at the head of his army, can prescribe the terms on which he shall reign master, so far that it will puzzle any American ever to get his neck from under the galling yoke. I cannot, with patience, think of this idea. If ever he violates the laws, one of two things will happen : he will come at the head of his army to carry every thing before him ; or, he will give bail, or do what Mr. Chief Justice will order him. If he be guilty, will not the recollection of his crimes teach him to make one bold push for the American throne ? Will not the immense dif- ference between being master of every thing, and being ig- nominiously tried and punished, powerfully excite him to make this bold push ? But, sir, where is the existing force to punish him ? Can he not, at the head of his army, beat down every opposition ? Away with your president, we shall have a king : the army will salute him monarch ; your militia will leave you, and assist in making him king, and fight against you : and what have you to oppose this force ? What will then become of you and your rights ? Will not absolute despotism ensue ? [Here Mr. Henry strongly and pathetically expatiated on the probability of the president's enslaving America, and the horrid consequences that must result.] What can be more defective than the clause concerning the elections ? The control given to Congress, over the 16G henry's speech ox time, place and manner of holding elections, will totally de- stroy the end of suffrage. The elections may be held at one place, and the most inconvenient in the state ; or they may be at remote distances from those who have a right of suf- frage : hence, nine out of ten must either not vote at all, or vote for strangers : for the most influential characters will be applied to, to know who are the most proper to bo cho- sen. I repeat, that the control of Congress over the manner, &c. of electing, well warrants this idea. The natural con- sequence will be, that this democratic branch will possess none of the public confidence : the people will be prejudiced against representatives chosen in such an injudicious man- ner. The proceedings in the northern conclave, will be hidden from the yeomanry of this country. We are told, that the yeas and nays sh:ill be taken and entered on the journals : this, sir, will avail nothing : it may be locked up in their chests, and concealed forever from the people ; for they are not to publish what parts they think require secre- cy ; they may think, and will think, the whole requires it. Another beautiful feature of this constitution, is the pub- lication, from time to time, of the receipts and expenditures of the public money. This expression, from time to time, is very indefinite and indeterminate : it may extend to a century. Grant that any of them are wicked, they may squander the public money so as to ruin you, and yet this expression will give you no redress. I say, they may ruin you ; for where, sir, is the responsibility ? The yeas and nays will show you nothing, unless they be fools as well as knaves ; for, after having wickedly trampled on the rights of the people, they would act like fools indeed, were they to publish and divulge their iniquity, when they have it equally in th oir power to suppress and conceal it. Where is the re- sponsibility — that leading principle in the British govern- ment ? In that government, a punishment, certain and inevitable, is provided : but in this, there is no real, actual punishment for the grossest mal-administration. They may THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 167 go without punishment, though they commit the most out- rageous violation on our immunities. That paper may tell me they will be punished. I ask, by what law ? They must make the law, for there is no existing law to do it. ^Vhat — will tliey make a law to punish themselves ? This, sir, is my great objection to the constitution, that there is no true responsibility, and that the preservation of our liberty de- pends on the single chance of men being virtuous enough to make laws to punish themselves. In the country from which we are descended, they have real, and not imaginary respon- sibility ; for there, mal-administration has cost their heads to some of the most saucy geniuses that ever were. The senate, by making treaties, may destroy your liberty and laws, for want of responsibility. Two thirds of those that shall happen to be present, can, with the president, make treaties, that shall be the supreme law of the land : they may make the most ruinous treaties, and yet there is no punish- ment for them. Whoever shows me a punishment provi- ded for them, will oblige me. So, sir, notwithstanding there are eight pillars, they want another. ^Vhere will they make another ? I trust, sir, the exclusion of the evils wherewith this system is replete, in its present form, will be made a condition precedent to its adoption, by this or any other state. The transition from a general, unquahfied admission to offices, to a consolidation of government, seems easy ; for, though the American states are dissimilar in their struc- ture, this will assimilate them : this, sir, is itself a strong consolidating feature, and is not one of the least dangerous in that system. Nine states are sufficient to establish this government over those nine. Imagine that nine have come into it. Virginia has certain scruples. Suppose she will consequently refuse to join those states : may not they still continue in friendship and union with her? If she sends bar annual requisitions in ddlars, do you think their stom- achs will be so squeamish as to refuse her dollars ? Will they not accept her regiments? They would intimidate 168 hexry's speech on you into an inconsiderate adoption, and frighten you with ideal evils, and that the union shall be dissolved. 'Tis a bugbear, sir : the fact is, sir, that the eight adopting states can hardly stand on their own legs. Public fame tells us, that the adopting states have already heart-burnings and animosity, and repent their precipitate hurry : this, sir, may occasion exceeding great mischief. When I reflect on these, and many other circumstances, I must think those states will be fond to be in confederacy with us. If we pay our quota of money annually, and furnish our rateable number of men, when necessary, I can see no danger from a rejec- tion. The history of Switzerland clearly proves, that we might be in amicable alliance with those states, without adopting this constitution. Switzerland is a confederacy, consisting of dissimilar governments. This is an example, which proves that governments, of dissimilar structures, may be confederated. That confederate republic has stood up- wards of four hundred years ; and, although several of the individual republics are democratic, and the rest aristocra- tic, no evil has resulted from this dissimilarity, for they have braved all the power of France and Germany, during that long period. The Swiss spirit, sir, has kept them together : they have encountered and overcome immense difficulties, with patience and fortitude. In the vicinity of powerful and ambitious monarchs, they have retained their indepen- dence, republican simplicity and valor. [Here Mr. Henry drew a comparison between the people of that country and those of France, and made a quotation from Addison, illus- trating the subject.] Look at the peasants of that country, and of France, and mark the difference. You will find the condition of the former far more desirable and comfortable. No matter whether a people be great, splendid and power- ful, if they enjoy freedom. The Turkish Grand Seignior, along side of our president, would put us to disgrace : but we should be abundantly consoled for this disgrace, should our citizens be put in contrast with the Turkish elave. THE FEDERAL COXSTITUTIOX. 169 The most valuable end of government, is the liberty of the inhabitants. No possible advantages can compensate for the loss of this privilege. Show me the reason why the American union is to be dissolved. Who are those eight adopting states ? Are they averse to give us a little time to consider, before we conclude ? Would such a disposition render a junction with them eligible : or, is it the genius of that kind of government, to precipitate people hastily into measures of the utmost importance, and grant no indul- gence ? If it be, sir, is it for us to accede to such a govern- ment ? We have a right to have time to consider — we shall therefore insist upon it. Unless the government be amend- ed, we can never accept it. The adopting states will doubt- less accept our money and our regiments ; and what is to be the consequence, if we are disunited ? I believe that it is yet doubtful, whether it is not proper to stand by a while, and see the effect of its adoption in other states. In form-. ing a government, the utmost care should be taken, to pre» vent its becoming oppressive ; and this government is of such an intricate and complicated nature, that no man on this earth, can know its real operation. The other states have no reason to think, from the antecedent conduct of Virginia, that she has any intention of seceding from the union, or of being less active to support the general welfare. Would they not, therefore, acquiesce in our taking time to deliberate — deliberate whether the measure be not perilous, not only for us, but the adopting states. Permit me, sir, to say, that a great majority of the people, even in the adopt- ing states, are averse to this government. I believe I would be right to say, that they have been egregiously misled. Pennsylvania has, perhaps, been tricked into it. If the other states, who have adopted it, have not been tricked, still they were too much hurried into its adoption. There were very respectable minorities in several of them ; and, if reports be true, a clear majority of the people are averse to it. If we also accede, and it should prove grievous, the 15 170 HENRY S SPEECH ON peace and prosperity of our country, which we all love, will be destroyed. This government has not the affection of the people, at present. Should it be oppressive, their affec- tion will be totally estranged from it — and, sir, you know that a government without their affections, can neither be durable nor happy. I speak as one poor individual— but, when I speak, I speak the language of thousands. But, sir, I mean not to breathe the spirit, nor utter the language of secession. I have trespassed so long on your patience, I am really concerned that I have something yet to say. The honora- ble member has said that we shall be properly represented ; remember, sir, that the number of our representatives is but ten, whereof six are a majority. Will those men be possessed of sufficient information ? A particular knowledge of par- ticular districts, will not suffice. They must be well ac- quaintcd with agriculture, commerce, and a great variety of other matters throughout the continent ; they must know not only the actual state of nations in Europe and America, the situation of their farmers, cottagers and mechanics, but also the relative situation and intercourse of those nations. Virginia is as large as England. Our proportion of repre- sentatives is but ten men. In England they have five hun- dred and thirty. The house of commons in England, nu- merous as they are, we are told, is bribed, and have bartered away the rights of their constituents : what then shall be- come of us ? Will these few protect our rights ? Will they be incorruptible ? You say they will be better men than the English commoners. I say they will be infinitely worse men, because they are to be chosen blindfolded : their elec- tion, (the term, as applied to their appointment, is inaccu- rate,) will be an involuntary nomination, and not a choice. I have, I fear, fatigued the committee, yet I have not said the one hundred thousandth part of what I have on my mind, and wish to impart. On this occasion, I conceive myself Jbound to attend strictly to the interest of the state ; and I THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 171 thought her dearest rights at stake : Iiaving lived so long — been so much honored — my efforts, though small, are due to my country. I have found my mind hurried on from sub- ject to subject, on this very great occasion. We have all been out of order, from the gentleman who opened to day, to myself. I did not come prepared to speak on so multi- tarious a subject, in so general a manner. I trust you will indulge me another time. Before you abandon the present system, I hope you will consider not only its defects, most maturely, but likewise those of that which you are to substi- tute for it. May you be fully apprised of the dangers of the latter, not by fatal experience, but by some abler advocate than I. EXTRACT FROM A SER3I01V, ON THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. BY LYMAN BEECHER, D. D. — ee disasters, which this" lit- tle band of Pilgrims encountered. Sad to see a portion of them the prey of unrelenting cupidity, treacherously em- barked in an unseaworthy ship, which they are soon obliged to abandon, and crowd themselves into one vessel ; one hundred persons, besides the ship's company, in a vessel of one hundred and sixty tons. One is touched at the story of the long, cold, and weary autumnal passage ; of the landing on the inhospitable rocks at this dismal season ; where they are deserted before long by the ship, which had brought them, and which seemed their only hold upon the world of fellow men, a prey to the elements and to want, and fearfully ignorant of the numbers, the power and the temper of the savage tribes, that filled the unexplored conti- nent upon whose verge they had ventured. But all this wrought together for good. These trials of wandering and exile, of the ocean, the winter, the wilderness, and the savage foe, were the final assurance of success. It was these that put far away from our fathers' cause all patrician soft, ness, all hereditary claims to preeminence. No eflfeminate nobility crowded into the dark and austere ranks of the Pih^rims. No Carr nor Villicrs desired to lead on the ill- provided band of despised Puritans. No well endowed clergy 232 ' EVERKTT S OKATION, were on the alert, to quit their cathedrals, and set up a pomp- ous hierarchy in the frozen wilderness. No craving gov- ernors were anxious to be sent over to our cheerless El Dorados of ice and of snow. No, they could not say they had encouraged, patronized, or helped the Pilgrims. They could not afterwards fairly pretend to reap where they had not strewn ; and as our fathers reared this broad and solid fabric with pains and watchfulness, unaided, barely tolerated, it did not fall, when the arm, which had never supported, was raised to destroy. Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous ves- sel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a future state, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand migivings, the uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the v.ished for shore. I see them now scantily supplied with provisons, crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route ; — and now driven in fury before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy waves. The awful voice of the storm howls throuoh the ri"-ffin"-. The laboring masts seem straining from their base ; — the dismal sound of the pumps is heard ; — the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow ; — the ocean breaks, and settles with engulphing floods over the floating deck, and beats with deadening weight against the staggered vessel. I see them, escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate un- dertaking, and landed at last, after a five months' passage, on the ice clad rocks of Plymouth, — weak and weary from the voyage, — poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the charity of their ship-master for a draft of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on shore, — without shelter, — without means, — surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of hu- man probability, what shall be the fate of this handful of ad^ AT PLYMOUTH. 233 venturers. Tell me, man of military science, in how many months were they all swept off by the thirty savage tribes? enumerated within the early limits of New England ? Tell me, poUtician, how long did this shadow of a colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant coast? Student of history, compare for me the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, the abandoned adventures, of other times, and find the parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children ; was it hard labor and spare meals ; — was it disease, — was it the tomahawk, — w^as it the deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken heart, aching in its last moments, at the recollection of the loved and left, beyond the sea ; was it some, or all of these united, that hurried this forsaken company to their melan- choly fate ? — And is it possible, that neither of these causes, that not all combined, were able to blast this bud of hope ? Is it possible, that from a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, a reality so im- portant, a promise yet to be fulfilled, so glorious ? 30* EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE INDIAN BILL. BY ISAAC C. BATES, Mr. Speaker, there is not an act of Georgia since Ogle- thorp first planted his footsteps upon the site of Savannah when duly considered ; there is not a resolve, ordinance or law of Congress ; there is not a treaty of the United States with the Indian tribes, that does not tend to establish tho fact, tliat the Indians are the proprietors of the lands and hunting grounds they claim, subject only to the restriction upon their right of alienation. You might have put the ques- tion to every man in this nation, or child on the frontier, and he would have told you so, until the legislation of the States, aided by interest, instructed him otherwise. What then becomes of the tenancy at will — -at sufferance, as asserted by Georgia ? Not one act, law or treaty that does not es- tablish the fact that they are sovereign. Sir, when were they otherwise ? In what field were they conquered ? Pro- duce the proof. But be it what it may, it is all controlled by a single, undisputed, admitted fact — here is the nation, until this invasion of it, still sovereign. There is no tradition that has not been lost in its descent, that it was ever other- wise than sovereign. The pyramids of Egypt, upon their own broad and solid foundations, are not better proof of themselves than the Cherokee nation is of its sovereignty. Sir, the emblems of it were sparkling in the sun, when those who now inhabit Georgia, and all who ever did, were in the loins of their European ancestry ; and the bird that bore them BATES* Sl'EECU. 235 aloft in the upper skies — tlic region that clouds never darkened — was not more the king of birds, than the Cherokccs were the lords of the country in which they dwelt, acknowledging no supremacy but that of the Great Spirit, and awed by no power but his — absolute, erect and indomitable as any crea- tures upon earth the Deity ever formed. But it is said the Constitution forbids the ' erection of a new State within the jurisdiction of another State,' and therefore the Cherokee government cannot be tolerated. Before I examined this subject, my own mind was embarrass, ed by this consideration. But upon examination it will be found that this article was drawn with great caution and forecast, and for the very purpose of saving these little sove- reignties of the aboriginal inliabitants. In the first place, as has been clearly shown in this debate, they are not a " state" within the meaning of the Constitution. In the next place, they are not a "neio state." They were sove- reignties when the Constitution was adopted. Therefore the existence and toleration of them then was as much a vi- olation of the Constitution as it is now. According to the Georgia doctrine, the government of the United States was then bound to do what it is now doing ; that is, to put an end to the Cherokee nation. In the third place, if a " new state," it is not a state formed " within the jurisdiction" of Georgia. The Constitution docs not say, in the often re- peated phrase, within the " chartered limits," or " geograph- ical limits," or "limits" of Georgia — terms used as if they were of the same meaning as "jurisdictional limits," — the same lines, all coincident. No such thing. The Indian boundary is the limit of the jurisdiction of Georgia. The other lines indicate the extent of country to which she claims the right of pre-emption, and by every new purchase, of adding to her territory, and thus extending the limits of her jurisdiction. These equivocal terms were rejected, and the word "ju- risdiction" was substituted by the framers of the Constitu- 236 bates' speech on tion for the word " limits" — the one extending to the Indian boundary only, and so considered by Georgia herself down to the time of this dispute, the other being the geographical boundary of the State. Now I take it upon myself to say, that after the adoption of the Constitution there was no pre- tence for affirming that the Cherokees were within the jwri*. diction of Georgia. What the views of the framers of that instrument were in relation to these remnants of once mighty nations, I cannot say. Probably they looked forward to the time when they would melt away or mingle with the current of white popu- lation, or pass off in some other form. Certain, I am, it was not their intention that "in their property, rights or liberty they should ever be invaded or molested." This our ances- tors said in 1787 ; and Georgia said the same in 1802. The Cherokee nation is not, therefore, a new State, formed with- in the '^jurisdiction" of Georgia. I do not remark upon the improvement made in their form of government, for any man of sense must see that that can make no dilTerence. The more perfect the system the better. Less the trouble from it. It has been said also that the United States have not ex- tinguished the Indian title to the lands in question as agreed at the cession. I have already remarked upon the condi- tions of the obligation then entered into ; and it is a fuU. answer to this complaint to say, that the United States have extinguished the title until the Indians have refused to cede another acre, and that they have been always ready and willing, and are now ready to do it, if the Indians will con- sent to it. Then again it is said that the indisposition to sell is the result of the civilization of the Cherokees, and that that has been brought about by the agency of the government. The answer to this is, that the United States were under obliga- tion to do what they have done, prior to the compact of TIIB IXDIAN BILL. 237 1802 ; and this was known to Georgia, and she took tlie stipulation, suhjcct to this ohhgation, which is distinctly re- cognized in her own compact. Again, it has been urged against soma of the treaties guarantying this country to the Chcrokees that the "just claims of the State of Georgia were" prejudiced thereby, contrary to the constitution. This is bogging the question ; for Georgia has no "just claim" to the Cherokee country, and therefore none is prejudiced. Georgia has no right, constitutional or any other, that is incompatible with the engagements you have made to the Indian nations, or thiit is invaded by any law you have passed " to prevent wrongs being done to them, and to preserve peace and friendship with thein." But, sir, you cannot take a step in the argument towards the result contended for by the friends of this bill, without blottinfr out a treaty, or tearing a seal from vour bond. I give to the bill the connection which it has in fact, whatever may be said to the contrary, with the lavvs of the States to v.hich it is subsidiary, and with the decision of the President, that the Indians must submit or remove. Now, sir, I say you are bound to protect them where they are, if they claim it at your hands. That you violate no right of the States in doing it, and will violate the rights of the Indian nations by not doing it. That when the United States, in consid- eration of the cession of land made by the Chcrokees to this sovcrnment, guaranteed to them the ^^ remainder of their country forever," you meant something by it. Sir, it is in vain to talk upon this question ; impossible, patiently to discuss it. If you have honor, it is pledged; if you have truth, it is pledged ; if you have faith, it is pledged — a na- tion's faith, and truth, and honor! And to whom pledged ? To the weak, the defenceless, the dependent. Fidem An. glorum in foedere elegiimis, they say to you. Selecting your faith and no other, — you would not have it othcr- v^'ise, — wo repose! our trust and confidence in you, and 238 bates' speech ox you alone. And for what pledged ? Wherever you open your eyes you see it, and wherever you plant your foot you feel it. And by whom pledged ? By a nation in its youth — a Republic, boastful of its libsrty ; may it never be added, unmindful of its honor. Sir, your decision upon this subject is not to be rolled up in the scroll of your journal and forgotten. The transaction of this day, with the events it will give rise to, will stand out upon the canvass in all future delineations of this quarter of the globe, putting your deeds of glory in the shade. You will see it every whei'e — You will meet it on the page of history, in the essay of the moralist, in the tract of the jurist. You will see it in the vision of the poet ; you will feel it in the sting of the satirist ; you will encounter it in the in- dignant frown of the friend of liberty and the rights of man, wherever despotism has not subdued to its dominion, the very look. You will meet it upon the stage ; you will read it in the novel, and the eyes of your children's children through- out all generations, will gush with tears as they run over the story, unless the oblivion of another age of darkness should come over the world, and blot out the record and the memory of it. And, Sir, you will meet it at the bar above. The Cherokees, if they are men, cannot submit to such laws and such degradation. They must go. Urged by such per- suasion, they must consent to go. If you will not interfere in their behalf, the result is inevitable — the object will be accomplished. When the Cherokee takes his last look of the cabin he has reared — of the field he has cultivated — of the mound that covers the ashes of his fathers for unknown generations, and the bones of his family and friends, and leaves all to be desecrated by the greedy and obtrusive bor- derer — Sir, I will not venture upon a description of this scene of a nation's exit and exile. I will only say — I would not en- counter the secret, silent prayer that should be breathed from the heart of one of these sufferers, armed with the energy that fciith and hope would give it, if there be a God that avenges the wrongs of the injured, for all the land the sun has looked THE INDIAN BILL. 239 upon. These children of nature will go to the stake, and bid you strike without the motion of a muscle ; but if they can bear this ; if they have reduced whatever there is of earth about them, to such a subjection to the spirit within, as to bear this, we are the men to go into the wilderness, and leave them here as our betters. Mr. Speaker, there are many collateral arguments bear- ing upon the main point of this'discussion, that I intended to have urged, and many directly in my way that I have pass- ed over, and most of them I have but touched. But full of interest as this question is, I dare not venture longer upon the patience of the house. At this age of the world, and in view of what they have been, and what we were, and of what they have become, and we are, any thing but a breach of faith — the deep and lasting infamy, to say nothing of the appalling guilt of it — with the Indian Tribes. If the great men who have gone before us were so improvident as to involve the United States in contradictory and incompatible obligations, a breach of faith with all the world besides, rather than with these our confiding neighbors. If we must be made to blush, let it be before our equals. Let there be at least dignity in our humiliation, and therefore something of generosity, or courageous daring — something besides unmixed selfishness and domineering cowardice in the act that produces it. EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, STYLED "INDIAN RIGHTS AND OUR DUTIES." BY HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D. WiiAT has become of those powerful tribes that two cen- turies ago dwelt where we now dwell ; and kindled their watch-fires where our proudest cities rise ; and owned all these rivers, and bays, and harbors, and great lakes, and lofty mountains, and fertile vallies ? Where are they ? A nobler race of wild men never existed in any age or country. We are accustomed to speak of them as ferocious savages. And it is true that they were uncivilized. They had no schools, nor Colleges. They had never enjoyed the blessed light of Christianity ; and in their wars with one another, they were as cruel, as they were brave and crafty. It is true, also, that when we began to extend our settlements far into the country, and they saw us in possession of their finest hunting grounds and fisheries, they became jealous of us and being instigated by the French, who then flanked our whole northern and western frontier, from the gulph of St. Lawrence to the mouth of the Missouri, they made depreda- tions upon our property and cruelly butchered some of our people. All this is true. But savages as they were, they bore with .our gi'adual encroachments much longer than we should have borne with th irs under siinilar circumstances, and taught us lessons which may well put to the blush all our boasted religion and civilization. > The Indians,' says Dr. Trumbull, ' at the first settlement HXMPIIREY^S DISCOURSE. 241 ©f our fathers, performed many acts of kindness towards them. They instructed thorn in the manner of planting and dressing the Indian corn. They carried them safe through rivers and waters. They gave them much useful informa- tion respecting the country, and when the EngUshand tiieir children were lost in the woods, and they were in danger of perishing with hunger, or cold, they conducted them to their wigwams, fed them, and restored them to their families and parents. By selling them corn when pinched with famine, they relieved their distresses, and prevented their perishing in a strange land and uncultivated wilderness.' The same historian tells us, that it was nearly sixteen years after the settlement of Plymouth, before the Indians commenced hos. tilities upon their English neighbors; and again 'that-the English lived in tolerable peace with all the Indians in New England, except the Pequots, for about forty years.' Thus, when we were few and they were many, — we were weak and they were strong — instead of driving us back into the sea, as they might have done at any time, they cherished our perilous infancy, and tendered to us the sacred emblems ot" peace. They gave us land as much as we want- ed, or sold it to us for nothing. They permitted us quietly to clear up the wilderness, and to build habitations, and school houses, and churches. And when everything began to smile around us, under the combined influ- ence of industry, education, and religion, these savages did not come to us and say, ' We want your houses — we want your fine cultivated farms : you must move off. There is room enough for you beyond the western rivers, where you may settle down on a better soil, and begin anew.' Nor when we were strongly attached to our fire sides, and to our father's sepulchres, did tliey say, ' You are mere tenants at will : we own all the land, and if you insist upon staying longer, you must dissolve your government and sub- Bftit to such laws as we choose to make for you.' No — the Indian tribes of the seventeenth century, knew 21 242 HUMPHSEy's DISCOtHSIi, nothing of these modern refinements : they were no such adepts in the law of nature and nations. They allowed us to abide by our own council fires, and to govern ourselves as we chose, when they could either have dispossessed, or subjugated us at pleasure. We did remain, and we gradu- ally waxed rich and strong. We wanted more land, and they sold it to us at our own price. Still we were^not satisfied. There was room enough to the west, and we advised them to move farther back. If they took our advise, well. If not, we knew how to enforce it. And where are those once terrible nations now ? Driven alternately by purchase and by conquest, from river to river, and from mountain to mountain, they have disappeared with their own gigantic forests, and we, their enlightened heirs at law and the sword, now plow up their bones with as much indifference as we do their arrows. Shall I name the Mohegans, the Pequots, the Iroquois, and the Mohawks ? What has become of them, and of a hundred other independent nations which dwelt on this side of the Mississippi, when we landed at Plymouth and at Jamestown ? Here and there, as at Penobscot, and Marshpee, and Oneida, you may see a diminutive and down- cast remnant, wandering liko troubled ghosts among the graves of their mighty progenitors. Our trinkets, our threats, our arms, our whiskey, our bribes, and our vices, have all but annihilated those vast physical and intellectual energies of a native population, which for more than a hun- dred and fifty years, could make us quake and flee at plea- Bure, throughout all our northern, western, and southern borders. There is something more than metaphor, more than the wild flowers of Indian rhetoric, in the speech of a distinguish, ed chief to General Knox, about the close of the last century. « Brother, I have been looking at your beautiful city — the great waters — your fine country, and I see how you all are. But then I could not help thinking that this fine country, and this great water were once ours. Our ancestors lived ON INDIAN BIGHTS. 249 here ; they enjoyed it as their own place ; — it was the gift of the Great Spirit to them and their children. At last the white people came here in a great canoe. They asked us only to let them tie it to a teee, lest the waters should carry it away ; we consented. They said some of their people were sick, and asked leave to land them and put them under the shade of the trees. The ice then came and they could not go away. They begged for a piece of land to build wig- wams for the winter : we granted it to them. Then they asked for some corn to keep them from starving : and we kindly furnished it to them. ' Afterwards more came. They brought spirituous and intoxicating liquors with them, of which the Indians were very fond. They persuaded us to sell them some land. Finally they drove us back from time to time, into the wil- derness, far from the water and the fishes. They have de- stroyed the game ; and our people have wasted away ; and now we live miserable and wretched, while you are enjoying our fine and beautiful country. This makes me sorry, brother, and I cannot help it.' Here is truth and nature ; nor is there less of either in the speech of the famous Logan to Lord Dunmore, Governor of Virginia. • ' My cabin, since I had one of my own, has ever been open to any white man who wanted shelter. My spoils of hunting, since first I began to range these woods, have I ever imparted to appease his hunger, to clothe his naked- ness. But what have I seen ? What ! But that at my return at night, laden with spoil, my numerous family lie bleeding on the ground by the hand of those who had found my little hut a certain refuge from the storm, who had eaten my food, who had covered themselves with my skins. What have I seen ? What ! But that those dear little mouths for which I had all day toiled, when I returned to fill them, had not one word to thank me for all that toil. ' What could I resolve upon ! My blood boiled within me. 244 HUMPHREY S DISCOUHSEy My heart leaped to my mouth ! Nevertheless I bid my tomahawk be quiet and lie at rest for that war, because 1 thought the great men of your country sent them not to do it. Not long after, some of your men invited our tribe to cross the river and bring their venison with them. They came as they had been invited. The white men made them drunk, murdered them, and turned their knives even against the women. Was not my own sister among them ? Was she not scalped by the hands of the very man whom she had taught to escape his enemies, when they were scenting out his track? What could I resolve upon? My blood boiled thrice hotter than before. Thrice again my heart leaped to my mouth. I bade no longer my tomahawk be qui-et and rest for that war. *I sprang from my cabin to avenge their blood, and fully have I done it in this war, by shedding yours, from your coldest to your hottest sun. I am now for peace — to peace have I advised most of my countrymen. Nay, what is more, I have offered, I will offer myself a victim, being ready to die if their good requires it. Think not that I fear death. I have no relatives left to mourn for me. Logan's Wood runs in no veins but these. I would not turn on my heel to save my life; and why should I? For I have neither wife nor child nor sister to howl for me when I am gone !' Gone is the mighty warrior, the terrible avenger, the heart-bursting orator. Gone is the terror and glory of his nation ; and gone forever from our elder states, are the red men, who, like Saul and Jonathan, were ' swifter than eagles> and stronger than lions,' and who with the light and advan- tages which we enjoy, might have rivalled us in wealth and power — in the senate and forum, — as I am sure that they would have surpassed us in magnanimity and justice. But while the besom of destruction has thus swept away more than nine tenths of the aboriginal sovereignties of the country, a few of the more southern tribss have hitherto escaped, though greatly reduced both in numbers and tt;rri - ON INDIAN RIGHTS. 245 tory. And where is the philanthropist who has not rejoiced to see these tribas emerging so rapidly irom pagan darkness and coming into the light of well regulated, civil and Chris- tian communities? How delightful has it been to dwell on the hope that the Cherokees, the Choctaws, and their abori- ginal neighbors, on this side the great river of the west, would be permitted to make their new and glorious experi- ment upon the soil which God gave to their fathers. How lately did the visions of their future intellectual and moral greatness shed the glories of a new creation upon all their mountains and plains ! ' But what cloud is that which now darkens their heavens ? What voices of supplication and woe are heard from all their dwellings? Tha crisis of their fate has suddenly come. The decree has gone forth. The most unjust and oppressive measures are in train, either to drive 70,000 unoffending people from the soil on which they were born, into distant wilds where most of them will perish, or to dissolve their in- dependent governments, rob them of their lands, and bring them under strange laws, the very design of which is to break down their national spirit, and ensure their speedy extermination. ****** We have come to such a crisis, as neither we nor our ftt- thers ever saw before. The great question is to be finally settled within a few months, perhaps weeks, whether whole, peaceable nations shall b2 dispossessed, or virtually enslaved, under the eye and with the approbation of a government, which is solemnly pledged to protect them. And do we want motives to remonstrate against this crying injustice 1 Really the motives are so many and so urgent, — they throng so importunately about my path, that I know not what to do with them. Thrusting the greater part of them aside, I can only bostow a moment upon some of the most promi- nent. And the Jirst motive is drawn from the immutable and 21 * 246 Humphrey's discoxtrse, eternal principles of humanity and justice. Humanity pleads for the Indians with all her inexhaustible sympathies and with all her eloquent tongues. They are distressed. They are vexed. They are persecuted. The bosoms of tens of thousands of unoffending people are heaving with a mighty and common agony — occasioned by the encroach- ments and menaces of those who ought to be their protec- tors. And where, if we do not speak and act, is our humanity. Justice too, with all its irrefragable arguments, urges us to remonstrate and to act. The most sacred rights of four nations, living under our protection and confiding in our republican faith, are invaded. And they cry to us for help. The heritage which God gave them is to bs wrested from them ; or, if permitted to retain the small portion of it which is now under cultivation, they are to be thrust down from their moral and political elevation, into the depths of despon- dency and ruin. And can any one who knows all this, sit still and ba quiet ! What if only ten poor families in a remote corner of Maine or Missouri were thi-eatcned with similar outrage? Every man in the nation would rise up and blow the trum- pet. What if some lordly oppressor, having already ten times as much land as he could cultivate, should go to these families and say, ' You must move off. I want your little farms, and will not take a denial.' — Ten millions of voices would answer in thunder, ' You shan't have them ! No, nev- er ! These families have rights as well as you, and they shall be protected at all hazards.' And where, I ask, is the difference ? In the case supposed there are ten families, and in that of the Indians now under consideration, there are ten or fifteen thousand ! Where is the difference? Ah, the ten are v-hite men, and the ten thousand are red men ! Where is the difr(;rence ? The former are protected in their rights by the constitution, and the latter by the solemn faith of treaties ! There is the mighty diflerence ! ! ON INDIAN RIGHTS. 247 A second motive, then, for stirring up all the moral power of this nation at this time, is found in the danger which threatens our own lib3rtics. This suggestion I am aware, will be ridiculed by many, and regarded by most as the off- spring of a terrified imagination Let those who choose, cry, ' Peace, and safety,' and fold their arms and wait for the march of events. But if the people sit still, and look calmly on, while the Indians arc abandoned to their fate, in violation of the most solemn national compacts, what securi- ty have we that the same government which dclibcrate'ly breaks its treaties in the face of heaven and earth, will not ten, or twenty years hence, find some plausible pretext for turning its power and patronage against the constitution itself? And if it should, how long, think you, will these- pa- per and parchment bulwarks of ours stand ? How long will it bo a blessing to be born and live in America, rather than in Turkey, or under the Autocrat of all the Russias ? Do you tell me that there is no possible danger — that no man, or numb:;r of men, will ever dare to assail our free and glorious institutions. Let the history of past republics, or rather let their tombstones decide this point between us. — So it would have been said, when Washington and Jefferson were at the head of affairs, that nobody would ever dare to disinherit, or enslave the Indians, protected as they are by almost a hundred and fifty treaties. And yet it is about to bo done. And how much better is our parchment, than theirs ? If such encroachments, acquiesced in, do not prepare the way for putting shackles upon our children, tliey must be pro- tected by higher munitions than constitutional bulwarks. This I am wiUing to leave upon record, and I'un the risk of its being laughed at, fifty years hence. A third motive for earnest remonstrance at the present crisis, is found in the grand experiment which we as a na- tion arc now nriking, bjfore the whole world, of the superior excellence and stability of republican institutions. How many thousand times has the parallel boen proudly drawn 248 Humphrey's discourse, by our statesmen and orators, between this country and every other nation under heaven. How triumphantly has it been proclaimed in the ears of all mankind, that here, at least, all the rights of the weak as well as the strong have found a sure protection.. But let the stroke v/hich is now impending, fall upon the heads of the poor defence- less Indians, and who will not be heartily and forever asham- ed of all this boasting? Who will ever dare to say anoth- er word about the partition of Poland ? Who in a foreign land, will ever hereafter bo willing to own that he is an American? How will all the enlightened friends of free in- stitutions in other countries mourn over this indelible stigma upon our national character ; and how will the enemies of equal rights triumph in our disgrace. Verily, ' we are made a spectacle to the world and to angels and to men.' The last motive which I have time to mention, and can but just allude to, is, that there is a just God in heaven, and that sooner or later his wrath will wax hot against the na- tion that tramples upon the rights of its defenceless and im- ploring neighbors. Tell me not of your twelve millions of people — of the exploits of your armies and navy — of the un- paralleled growth and inexhaustible resources of the coun- try. What will al! these avail when God shall come out of his place to 'make inquisition for blood?' Prouder and miffher nations than this have fallen, and how can we expect to escape, if we ' use oppression and exercise robbery, and vex the poor and needy ?' The Cherokees and Choctaws cannot, indeed, resist our arms. They lie at the mercy of their white neighbors. They are like little trembling flocks of kids, surrounded by lions. But though they are too weak to meet us in the field, they are not too weak to Uft up their cries to heaven ao-ainst us. Though they are too few to defend their coun- try against our rapacity, there are enough of them to ' ap- pear as swift witnesses againt us' in the Court above ; and they will assuredly have the right of testifying secured to ON INDIAN RIOUTS. 249 them tlierc, however they may bo restricted and oppressed in courts below. Their nunibsrs are more than suflicient to bring down the judgments of God upon their cruel oppres- sors. Who then w ill ' make up the hedge and stand in the gap before Him for the land, that He should not destroy it V The crisis is awful, and the responsibilities of our rulers and of the whole nation are tremendous ! The Lord is a holy God, and he is jealous ! EXTiiACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE EXPEDIENCY OF PASSING LAWS, FOR CARRYING INTO EFFECT, THE TREATY CONCLUDED BETWEEN GREAT BRITAIN AND THE UNITED STATES, IN THE YEAR 1794. BY FISHER AMES. To expatiate on the value of public faith may pass with some men for declamation — to such men I have nothing to say. To others I will urge — can any circumstance mark upon a people more turpitude and debasement ? Can any thino- tend more to make men think themselves mean, or degrade to a lower point their estimation of virtue, and their standard of action ? It would not merely demoralize mankind, it tends to break all the ligaments of society, to dissolve that mysterious charm which attracts individuals to the nation, and to in- spire in its stead a repulsive sense of shame and disgust. What is patriotism ? Is it a narrow affection for the spot where a man was born ? Are the very clods where we tread entitled to this ai'dent preference because they are greener ? No, sir, this is not the character of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of society, bocause they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it not only AMEs' SPEECH. 251 as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk his life in its defence, and is conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For what rights of a citizen will be deemed in- violable when a state renounces the principles that constitute their security ? Or if his life shoultl not bo invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country odious in the eyes of stran- gers and dishonored in his own ? Could he look with affec- tion and veneration to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one would die within him ; he would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man in his native land. I see no exception to the respect, that is paid among na- tions to the law of good faith. If there are cases in this enlightened period, when it is violated, there are none when it is decried. It is the philosophy of politics, the religion of governments. It is observed by barbarians — a v/hiff of to- bacco smoke, or a string of beads, gives not merely binding force, but sanctity to treaties. Even in Algiers, a truce may be bought for money, but when ratified, even Algiers is too wise, or too just, to disown and annul its obligation. Thus we see, neither the ignorance of savages, nor the prin- ciples of an association for piracy and rapine, permit a na- tion to despise its engagements. If, sir, there could be a resuri'ection from the foot of the gallows, if the victims of justice could live again, collect together and form a society, they would, however loath, soon find themselves obliged to make justice, that justice under which they fell, the funda- mental law of their state. They would perceive, it was their interest to make others respect, and they would therefore soon pay some respect themselves to the obligations of good faith. It is painful, I hope it is superfluous, to make even the supposition, that America should furnish the occasion of this opprobrium. No, let me not even imagine that a republican government, sprung, as our own is, from a people enlight- ened and uncorrupted, a government whose origin is right, '252 AMES SPEECH. and whose daily discipline is duty, can, upon solemn debate^ make its option to be faithless — can dare to act what des. pots dare not avow, what our own example evinces, the stales of Barbary are unsuspected of. No, let me rather make the supposition, that Great Britain refuses to execute the treaty after we have done every thing to carry it into effect. Is there any language of I'eproach, pungent enough to express your commentary on the fact ? What would you say, or leather what would you not say ? Would you not tell them, wherever an Englishman might travel, shame would stick to him — he would disown his country. You would ex- claim, England proud of your wealth, and arrogant in the possession of power — blush for these distinctions, which be- come the vehicles of your dishonor. Such a nation might truly say to corruption, thou art my father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister. We should say of such a race of men, their name is a heavier burden than their debt. EXTRACT FR03I AN ORATION, DELIVERED BEFORE THE PHI BETA KAPPA SOCIETY OF CAMBRIDGE, 1824. BY EDWARD EVERETT. It may be objected, and it has been, that fox- want of a hereditary government, we lose that powerful spring of ac tion which resides in the patronage of such a government, and must emanate from the crown. With many individ- uals, friendly to our popular institutions, it is nevertheless an opinion, that we must consent to lose something of the genial influence of princely and royal patronage on letters and arts, and find our consolation in the political benefits of our free system. It may be doubted, however, whether this view be not entirely false. A crown is in itself a strip of velvet set with jewels ; the dignity which it imparts and the honor with which it is invested, depend on the numbers, resources, and the intelligence of the people who permit it to bo worn. The crown of the late emperor of Hayti, is said to have been one of the most brilliant in the world ; and Theodore of Corsica, while confined for debt in the Fleet in London, sat on as high a throne as the king of England. Since then the power and influence of the crown are really in the people, it seems preposterous to say, that what in- creases the importance of the people can diminish the effect of that, which proceeds from them, depends upon them, and reverts to them. Sovereignty, in all its truth and efficacy, exists here, as much as ever it did at London, at Paris, at Rome, or at Susa. It exists, it is true, 22 254 Everett's oration, in an equal propoi'tionate difFusion ; a part of it belongs to the humblest citizen. The error seems to be in confoundinsr the idea of sovereignty, with the quaUty of an individual sovereign. Wheresoever Providence gathers into a nation the tribes of men, there a social hfe, with its energies and functions, is conferred ; and this social life is sovereignty. By the healthful action of our representative system, it is made to pervade the empire like the air ; to reach the far- thest, descend to the lowest, and bind the distant together ; it is made not only to co-operate with the successful and as- sist the prosperous, but to cheer the remote, ' to remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsa- ken.' Before the rising of our republic in the world, the faculties of men have had but one weary pilgrimage to per- form — to travel up to court. By an improvement on the Jewish polity, which enjoined on the nation a visit thrice a year to the holy city ; the great, the munificent, the enlight- ened states of" the ancient and modern world have required a constant residence on the chosen spot. Provincial has become another term for inferior and rude ; and unpolite, which once meant only rural, has got to signify, in all our languages, something little better than barbarous. But since , in the nature of things, a small part only of the population of a large state can, by physical possibility, be crowded within the walls of the city, and there receive the genial beams of metropolitan favor, it follows that the great mass of men are cut off from the operation of some of the strongest excite- ments to exertion. It is rightfully urged then, as a great advantage of our system, that the excitements of society go down as low as its burdens, and search out and bring for- ward whatsoever of ability and zeal are comprehended with- in the limits of the land. This is but the beginning of the benefit, or rather it is not yet the benefit. It is the effect of this diffiision of privileges that is precious. Capacity and opportunity, the twin sisters, who can scarce subsist but with each other, are now brought together. The people AT CAMBRIDGE. 255 who are to choose, and from whose number are to be cho- sen, by their neighbors, the highest othces of state, infalhbly feel an impulse to mental activity ; they read, think, and compare ; they found village schools, they collect social li- bi'aries, they prepare their children for the higher establish- ments of education. The world, I think, has been abused on the tendency of institutions perfectly popular. From the ill-organized states of antiquity, terrific examples of li. cence and popidar misrule are quoted, to prove that man re- quires to be jn'otected from himself, without asking who is to protect him from the protector, himself also a man. While from the very first settlement of America to the pre- sent day, the most prominent trait of our character has been to cherish and diffuse the means of education. The villajje school-house, and the village church, are the monuments, which the American people have erected to their freedom ; to read, and write, and think, are the licentious practices, which have characterized our democracy. But it will be urged, perhaps, that, though the effect of our institutions be to excite the intellect of the nation, they excite it too much in a political direction ; that the division and subdivision of the country into states and districts, and the equal diffusion throughout them of political privileges and powers, whatever favorable effect in other ways they may produce, are attended by this evil, — that they kindle a poli- tical ambition, where it would not and ought not to be felt ; and particularly that they are unfriendly in their operation on literature, as they call the aspiring youth, from the patient and laborious vigils of the student, to plunge prematurely into the conflicts of the forum. It may, however, be doubt- ed, whether there be any foundation whatever for a charge like this ; and whether the fact, so far as it is one, that the talent and ambition of the country incline, at present, to a political course, be not owing to causes wholly unconnected, with the free character of our institutions. It need not be said that the administration of the government of a country, 256 KVEBETt's ORAXlONr whether it be Uberal or despotic, is the first thing to be pro- vided for. Some persons must be employed in making and administering the laws, before any other interest can receive attention. Our fathers, the pilgrims, before they left the ves- sel, in which for five months they had been tossed on the ocean, before setting foot on the new world of their desire, drew up a simple constitution of government. As this ia the first care in the order of nature, it ever retains its para- mount importance. Society must be preserved in its consti- tuted forms, or there is no safety for life, no security for pro- perty, no permanence for any institution civil, moral or reli- gious. The first efforts then of social men are of necessity political. Apart from every call of ambition, honorable or selfish, of interest enlarged or mercenary, the care of the government is the first care of a civiUzed community. In the early stages of social progress, where there is little property and a scanty population, the whole strength of the society must be employed in its support and defence. Though we are constantly receding from these stages, we have not wholly left them. Even our rapidly increasing population is and will for some remain small, compared with the space over which it is diffused ; and this, with the total absence of large hereditary fortunes, will create a demand for political services,, on the one hand, and a necessity of rendering them on the other. There is then no ground for ascribing the political tendency of the talent and activity of this country, to an imagined incompatibility of popular institutions with the profound cultivation of letters. Sup- pose our government were changed to-morrow ; that the five points of a stronger government were introduced, a heredi- tary sovereign, an order of nobihty, an established church, a standing army, and a vigilant poHce ; and that these should take place of that admirable system, which now, like the genial air, pervades all, supports all, cheers all, and is no- where seen. Suppose this change made, and other circum- stances to remain the same ; our population no moi-e dense. AT CAMBRIDGE. 257 our boundaries as wide, and the accumulation of private wealth no more abundant. Would there, in the new state of things, be less interest in politics ? By the terms of the supposition, the leading class of the community, the nobles, are to be politicians by birth. By the nature of the case, a large portion of the remainder, who gain their livelihood by their industry and talents, would be engrossed, not indeed in the free political competition, which now prevails, but in pursuing the interests of rival court factions One class only, the peasantry, would remain, which would take less in- terest in politics than the corresponding class in a free state ; or rather, this is a new class, which invariably comes in with a strong government ; and no one can seriously think the cause of science and literature would be promoted, by substituting an European peasantry, in the place of, per- haps, the most substantial uncorrupted population on earth, the American yeomanry. Moreover, the evil in question is with us a self-correcting evil. If the career of politics be more open, and the temptation to crowd it stronger, compe- tition will spring up, numbers will engage in the pursuit ; the less able, the less industrious, the less ambitious must re- tire, and leave the race to the swift and the battle to the strong. But in hereditary governments no such remedy exists. One class of society, by the nature of its position, must be rulers, magistrates or politicians. Weak or strong, willing or unwilling, they must play the game, though they, as well as the people, pay the bitter forfeit. The obnoxious king can seldom shake off the empoisoned purple ; he must wear the crown of thorns, till it is struck off at the scaffold ; and the same artificial necessity has obliged generations of nobles, in all the old states of Europe, to toil and bleed for a Power too great to keep or to resign. Where the compulsion stops short of these afflicting ex- tremities, still, under the governments in question, a large portion of the community is unavoidably destined to the 22* 258 EVEKETT^S ORATION, calling of the courtier, the soldier, the party retainer ; to a life of service, intrigue and court attendance ; and thousands, and those the prominent individuals in society, are brought up to look on a livelihood gained by private industry as base ; on study as the pedant's trade, on labor as the badge of slavery. I look in vain in institutions like these, for any thing essentially favorable to intellectual pi'ogress. On the contrary, while they must draw away the talent and ambi- tion of the country, quite as much as popular institutions can do it, into pursuits foreign from the culture of the intel- lect, they necessarily doom to obscurity no small part of the mental energy of the land. For that mental energy has been equally diffused by sterner levellers than ever marched in the van of a Revolution ; the nature of man and the Providence of God. Native character, strength and quick- ness of mind, are not of the number of distinctions and ac- complishments, that human institutions can monopolize with- in a city's walls. In quiet times, they remain and perish in the obscurity to which a false organization of society consigns them. In dangerous, convulsed and trying times, they spring up in the fields, in the village hamlets, and on the mountain tops, and teach the surprised favorites of hu- man law, that bright eyes, skilful hands, quick perceptions^ firm purpose, and brave hearts, are not the exclusive appa- nage of courts. Our popular institutions are favorable to in- tellectual improvement because tlieir foundation is in dear nature. They do not consign the greater part of the social frame to torpidity and mortification. They send out a vital nerve to every member of the community, by which its talents and power, great or small, are brought into living conjunction and strong sympathy with the kindred intellect of the nation ; and every impression on every part vibrates with electric rapidity through the whole. They encourage nature to perfect her work ; they make education, the soul's nutriment, cheap ; they bring up remote and shrinking tal- ent into the cheerful field of competition ; in a thousand AT CAMBRIDGE. 259 Ways they provide an audience for lips, which nature has touched with persuasion ; they put a lyre into the hands of genius ; they bestow on all who deserve it or seek it, the only patronage worth having, the only patronage that ever struck out a spark of ' celestial fire,' — the patronage of fair opportunity. This is a day of improved education ; new systems of teaching are devised ; modes of instruction, choice of studies, adaptation of text books, the whole machinery of means, have been brought in our day under severe revision. But were I attempt to point out the most efhcacious and comprehensive improvement in education, the engine, by which the greatest portion of mind could be brought and kept under cultivation, the discipline which would reach farthest, sink deepest, and cause the word of instruction, not to spread over the surface like an artificial hue, carefully laid on, but to penetrate to the heart and soul of its objects, it would be popular institutions. Give the people an object in promoting education, and the best methods will infallibly be suggested by that instinctive ingenuity of our nature which provides means for great and precious ends. Give the people an object in promoting education, and the worn hand of labor will bs opened to the last farthing, that its children may enjoy means denied to itself. This great con- test about black boards and sand tables will then lose some- thing of its importance, and even the exalted names of Bell and Lancaster may sink from that very lofty height, where an over hasty admiration has placed them. The most powerful motives call on us as scholars for those efforts, which our common country demands of all her chil- dren. Most of us arc of that class, who owe whatever of knowledge has shone into our minds, to the free and popu- lar institutions of our native land. There arc few of us, who may not be permitted to boast, that we have been rear- ed in an honest poverty or a frugal competence, and owe 260 Everett's oratio?.^ every thing to those means of education, which arc equally open to all. We are summoned to new energy and zeal by the high nature of the experiment we are appointed in Prov- idence to make, and the grandeur of the theatre on which it is to be performed. When the old world atforded no lon- ger any hope, it pleased heaven to open this last refuge of humanity. The attempt has begun, and is going on, far from foreign corruption, on the broadest scale, and under the most benignant auspices; and it certainly rests with us to solve the great problem in human society, to settle, and that forever, the momentous question — whether mankind can be trusted with a purely popular system ? One might almost think, without extravagance, that the departed wise and good of all places and times, are looking down from their happy seats to witness what shall now be done by us ; that they who lavished their treasures and their blood of old, who la- bored and suffered, who spake and wrote, who fought and perished, in the one great cause of freedom and truth, are now hanging from their orbs on high, over the last solemn experiment of humanity. As I have wandered over the spots, once the scene of their labors, and mused among the prostrate columns of their Senate Houses and Forums, I have seemed almost to hear a voice from the tombs of departed ages ; from the sepulchres of the nations, which died before the sisht. Thev exhort us, they adjure us to be faithful to our trust. They implore us, by the long trials of struggUng hu- manity, by the blessed memory of the departed ; by the dear faith, Vhich has been plighted by pure hands, to the holy cause of truth and man ; by the awful secrets of the prison houses, where the sons of freedom have been immured ; by the noble heads which have been brought to the block ; by the Avrecks of time, by the eloquent ruins of nations, they conjure us not to quench the light which is rising on the world. Greece cries to us, by the convulsed lips of her poisoned, dying Demosthenes ; and Rome pleads with us in the mute persuasion of her mangled Tully. They address us AT CAMBRIDGE. 261 each and all in the glorious language of Milton, to one, who might have canonized his memory in the hearts of the friends of liberty, but who did most shamefully betray the cause, ' Reverere tantam de te expectationem, spem patriae de te unicam. Reverere vultus et vulnera tot fortium virorum, quotquot pro libertate tam strenue decertarunt, manes etiam eorum qui in ipso certamine occubuerunt. Reverere exte- rarum quoque civitatum existimationem de te atque sermones ; quantas res de libertate nostra tam fortiter parta, de nostra republica tam gloriose exorta sibi polliceantur ; qua? si tam cito quasi aborta evanuerit, profecto nihil seque dedecorosura huic genti atque periculosum fuerit.' Yes, my friends, such is the exhortation which calls on us to exert our powers, to employ our time, and consecrate our labors in the cause of our native land. When we en- gage in that solemn study, the history of our race, when we survey the progress of man, from his cradle in the east to these last limits of his wandering ; when we behold him forever flying westward from civil and religious thraldom, bearing his household gods over mountains and seas, seeking rest and finding none, but still pursuing the flying bow of promise, to the gUttering hills which it spans in Hesperian climes, we cannot but exclaim with Bishop Berkeley, the generous prelate of England, who bestowed his benefoctions, as well as blessings, on our country, Westward the star of Empire takes its way ; The four first acts already past, The fifth shall close the drama with the day ; Time's noblest offspring is the last. In that high romance, if romance it be, in which the great minds of antiquity sketched the fortunes of the agea to come, they pictured to themselves a favored region be- yond the ocean, a land of equal laws and happy men, Th3 262 Everett's oratio:*, primitive poets beheld it in the islands of the blest ; the Doric bards surveyed it in the Hyperborean regions ; the sage of the academy placed it in the lost Atlantis ; and even the sterner spirit of Seneca could discern a fairer abode of humanity, in distant regions then unknown. We look back upon these uninspired predictions, and almost recoil from the obligations they imply. By us must these fair visions be realized, by us must be fulfilled these high promi- ses, which burst in trying hours from the longing hearts of the champions of truth. There are no more continents or worlds to be revealed ; Atlantis hath arisen from the ocean, the farthest Thule is reached, there are no more retreats beyond the sea, no more discoveries, no more hopes. Here then a mighty work is to be fulfilled, or never, by the race of mortals. The man who looks with tenderness on the sufferings of good men in other times; the descendant of the Pilgrims, who cherishes the memory of his fathers ; the patriot who feels an honest glow at the majesty of the sys- tern of which he is a member ; the scholar, who beholds with rapture the long sealed book of unprejudiced truth ex, panded to all to read ; these are they, by whom these auspi- ces are to be accomplished. Yes, brethren, it is by the intellect of the country, that the mighty mass is to be in- spired ; that its parts are to communicate and sympathize, its bright progress to be adorned with becoming refinements, its strong sense uttered, its character reflected, its feelings interpreted to its own children, to other regions, and to after ages. Meantime the years are rapidly passing away and trath- ering importance in their course. With the present year will be completed the half century from that most important era in human history, the commencement of our revolution- ary war. The jubilee of our national existence is at hand. The space of time, that has elapsed from that momentous date, has laid down in the dust, which the blood of many of AT CAMBRIDGE. 263 them had lUready hallowed, most of the great men whom, under Providence, we owe our national existence and privi- leges. A few still survive among us, to reap the rich fruits of their labors and sufferings ; and one has yielded himself to the united voice of a people, and returned in his age, to receive the gratitude of the nation, to whom he devoted his youth. It is recorded on the pages of American history, that when this friend of our country applied to our commis- sioners at Paris, in 1776, for a passage in the first ship they should despatch to America, they wei'e obliged to answer him, (so low and abject was then our dear native land,) that they possessed not the means nor the credit sufficient for providing a single vessel, in all the ports of France. Then, exclaimed the youthful hero, 'I will provide my own;' and it is a literal fact, that when all America was too poor to oftcr him so much as a passage to our shores, he left, in his tender youth, the bosom of home, of happiness, of wealth, of rank, to plunge in the dust and blood of our inauspicious struggle. Welcome, friend of our fathers, to our shores! Happy are our eyes that behold those venerable features. Enjoy a triumph, such as never conqueror or monarch enjoyed, the assurance, that throughout America, there is not a bosom, which does not beat with joy and gratitude at the sound of your name. You have already met and saluted, or will soon meet, the few that remain of the ardent patriots, prudent counsellors, and brave warriors, with whom you were asso- ciated in achieving our liberty. But you have looked round in vain for the faces of many, who would have lived years of pleasure on a day like this, with their old companion in arms and brother in peril. Lincoln, and Greene, and Knox, and Hamilton, are gone ; the heroes of Saratoga and Yorktown have fallen before the only foe they could not meet. Above all, the first of heroes and of men, the friend of your youth, the more than friend of his country, rests in the bosom of the 264 Everett's obation. soil he redeemed. On the banks of his Potomac, he Hes in glory and peace. You will revisit the hospitable shades of Mount Vernon, but him whom you venerated as we did, you will not meet at its door. His voice of consolation, which reached you in the Austrian dungeons, cannot now break its silence, to bid you welcome to his own roof. But the grate- ful children of America will bid you welcome, in his name. Welcome, thrice welcome to our shores ; and whithersoever throughout the limits of the continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every tongue exclaim, with heartfelt joy, welcome, welcome La Fayette ! EX TRACT FI1031 A SPKECH, ON THE BILL PROPOSING TO PAY M.\RIGNY D'AUTERIVE FOR INJURY DONE TO A SLAVE WHILE WORKING IN THE TRENCHES BEFORE NEW-ORLEANS, JAN. 1, 1315 BY TRISTAM BURGES. I want words, Sir, to express my regret that such a ques- tion, and for such an amount, should have been brought into debate on this floor^ — that such principles and such terms should have been pressed into the discussion. Why urge the question of slavery upon us, and at the same time, declare that we dare not decide it ? We have no right — we claim no riwht — we wish for no right — -to decide the question of slavery. Men from the free States have already decided the question for themselves, within their own State jurisdic- tion ; and such men, to decide it here for other States, must first be renegade from the Constitution, or oblivious of its high and controHing principles. When has this question been raised, and not by men interested in its eternal slum- ber ? The Missouri Question was, as it has truly been said on this floor, no triumph. It was no triumph of policy ; it was no triumph of humanity. To contract, and not extend the theatre of it, is the true policy of every statesman, as well in the slave-holding, as in those States uncursed by this moral and political mischief. On this matter of slavery, singular and ominous political events have, within the last forty years, transpired in the great community of the New World. What another half century will exhibit, is knowu 23 266 BUKGEs' SPEECH, to Him only who holds in his hand the destiny of nations This kind of population is rapidly increasing ; and, should any large and united number of them make a desperate struggle for emancipation, it will then indeed be found, that the policy which had placed aid and relief at any greater distance, was cruelly and fatally unwise. Humanity surely did not triumph in that decision. It widened the mart of slavery. Southern men have nobly aided in driving from the ocean a traffic which had long dishonored our country, and outraged the best feelings of our nature. The foreign slave-trade is now piracy. Would to God, the domestic might, like his barbarous brother of the sea, be made an out- law of the land, and punished on the same gibbet. The Constitution, we know, does not permit one class of the States to legislate on the nature or condition of the property of the other class. Why tell us, for we already know, that neither our religion or our humanity can reach or release that condition. Humanity could once bathe the fevered forehead of Lazarus — she could not brina: to his comfort so much as a crumb from the sumptuous and pro- fuse table of Dives. Religion may weep, as the Saviour of the World wept over the proud city of Herod : but her tears will fall like the rain-drops on the burning plough-share, and serve only to render the stubborn material more obdurate. Wc are called and pressed to decide this question, and yet threatened, that the decision will dissolve the Union. 'The discussion and the Constitution will terminate to- gether.' — ' Southern gentlemen will, in that event, leave this Hall.' Who makes this menace, and against whom? It cannot be a war cry ; can it be a mere party watch-word ? On what event of immeasurable moment are we thus adjur- ed? In a paltry claim of two hundred and nine and ' thirty' pieces of silver, shall we, who have in this Hall, lifted the hand, or ' kissed' the hallowed gospel of God, in testimonial of high devotion to its requirements, shall we i:>f coGREss. 267 now, in the same place, ' deliver up' this our great national charter ? Tliis event cannot come with safety to our coun- try, and wisdom would admonish us to inquire what concom- itants may attend it ; and whom they will visit most disas- trously ! Must we he schooled on the benefits of the Union 7 It were wise for such scholars to take some lessons on the evils of separation. The Hebrew, when fed by the bread of Heaven, murmured at his God ; looked over the sea, and pined for the luxurious slavery of Egypt. Is it a vain ima- gining ; or may there be a charm in foreign alliance, more potent than the plain simplicity of domestic independence ? England can, indeed, make lords. The United States can make none. She too, can, and has in the last century, made more slaves than all other nations, Pagan or Christian. We are surrounded, protected, and secured by our- Con- stitution. By this, we are in safety from the power and violence of the world ; as some wealthy regions are, by their own barriers, sheltered from the ravages of the ocean. Do not forget, for they never forget, that a small insidious, per- severing reptile, may, unseen, bore through the loftiest and broadest mound. Th(! water follows its path, silently and imperceptibly at first, but the rock itself is worn away by the continual attrition of a perpetually running stream. A ravine, a breach is made ; and the ocean rushing in, flocks, and herds, and men, are swept away by the deluge. Pause, before you peril such a country ; pause, before you place in jeopardy so much wealth, and life, and intellect, and loveli- ness. Those of us whose sun is far in the West, may hope to he sheltered before the storm. Be not deceived. Sparsed and blanched as are our hairs, they may be defiled in the blood of our sons ; and to you, who in the pride of manhood, feel the warm blood flowing at your hearts, while you stand joyously in the blooming circle of household loveliness, the day may come, unless the all-merciful God pours into the bosom of this nation, the hallowed and healing spirit of rau- 268 BITRGKS'' SPEECH. tual confidence and mutual conciliation — to you, the tre- mendous day may come, when you shall sigh for the sad consolation of him, who, before that hour, shall have shel- tered his very last daughter in the sanctuary of the tomb. Do not understand me as I do not mean to be understood. Those who would avert the events of that catastrophe, do not stand here in mercy, or to menace, or to deprecate. They stand here amidst all the muniments of the Constitu- tion. They will not desert the ship, leave her who may ; they will perform the voyage, and to the very letter, and in the full spirit of all and singular the shipping articles ; and they, too, will, by the blessing of God, perform it without fear — ^prosperously as they trust, and with triumph- ant success." EXTRACT FR03I A SPEECH, ON THE TARIFF, AFTER BEING INTERRUPTED BY JIR. RANDOLPH'S SAYING "NEW-ENGLAND, WHAT IS SHE f ' DE[,ENDA EST CARTHAGO.' " BY TRISTAM BURGES. Whence all this abuse of New-England, this misrepre- sentation of the North and the West ? It is, Sir, because they, and all the patriots in the nation, would pursue a policy calculated to secure and perpetuate the national independence on Great Britain. It is because they are opposed by another policy, which, by its entire, and by every part of its opera- tion, will inevitably bring the American people into a con- dition of dependance on Great Britain, less profitable, and not more to our honor, than the condition of colonies. I cannot, I would not look into the secrets of men's hearts ; but the nation will examine the nature and tendencies of the American and the anti-American Systems ; and they can imderstand the arguments offered in support of each plan of national policy ; and they too can read, and will understand the histories of all public men, and of those two systems of national policy. Do we, as it has been insinuated, support the American policy, in wrong, and for the injury and dam- age of Old England ? I do not \ those with whom I have the honor to act, do not pursue this course — No, Sir, ' Not that I love England less, But that I love my country more.' Who, Sir, would wrong ; who would reduce the wealth, the power of England ? Who, without a glorious national 23* 21rO BURGES^ gPEECIty pride, can look to that as to our mother country ? It is the lartd of comfort, accommodation, and wealth ; of science and lite- rature ; song, sentiment, heroic valor, and deep, various, po- litical philosophy. Who is not proud, that our fathers were the compeers of Wolfe ; that Burke, and Chatham spoke our mother tongue ? Who docs not look for the most pros- perous eras of the worid, when English blood shall warm the human bosom over the habitable breadth of every zone : when English literature shall come under the eye of the whole world : English intellectual wealth enrich every clime ; and the manners, morals, and religion, of us and our parent country, spread civilization under the whole star- lighted heaven ; and, in the very language of our delibera- tions, the hallowed voice of daily prayer shall arise to God^ throughout every longitude of the sun's whole race. I would follow the course of ordinary experience ; ren- der the child independent of the parent ; and from the re- sources of his own industry, skill, and prudence, rich, influ- ential, and powerful among nations. Then, if the period of age and infirmity shall, as God send it may never, but if it sliall come, then, Sir, the venerated parent shall find shelter behind the strong right hand of her powerful descendant." The policy of the gentleman from Virginia, calls him to a course of legislation resulting in the entire destruction of one part of our Union. Oppress New-England until she shall be compelled to remove her manufacturing labor and capital, to the regions of iron, wool, and grain ; and nearer to those of rice and cotton. Oppress New-England until she shall be compelled to remove her commercial labor and capital to New York, Norfolk, Charleston, and Savannah. Finally, oppress that proscribed region, until she shall be compelled to remove her agricultural labor and capital — her agricultural capital ? No, she cannot remove that. Oppress and compel her, nevertheless, to remove her agricultural labor to the far off West ; and there people the savage val- ley, and cultivate the deep wilderness of the Oregon. She OK THE TARIFF. 271 must, indeed, leave her agricultural capital ; her peopled fields ; her hills with culture carried to their tops ; her broad deep bays ; her wide transparent lakes, long-winding rivers, and populous waterfalls ; her delightful villages, flourishing towns, and wealthy cities. She must leave this land, bought by the treasure, subdued by the toil, defended by the valor of men, vigorous, athletic, and intrepid ; men, god-like in all making man resemble the moral image of his Maker ; a land endeared, oh ! how deeply endeared, because shared with women pure as the snows of their native mountains ; bright? lofty, and overawing, as the clear, circumambient heavens over their heads ; and yet lovely as the fresh opening bosom of their own blushing and blooming June. ' Mine own ro- mantic country,' must we leave thee ? Beautiful patrimony of the wise and good ; enriched from the economy, arid or- namented by the labor and perseverance of two hundred years ! Must we leave thee, venerable heritage of ancient justice and pristine foith ? And, God of our fathers ! must we leave thee to the demaffojjues who have deceived, and traitorously sold us? We must leave thee to them ; and to the remnants of the Penobscots, the Pequods, the Mohicans, and Narragansctts ; that they may lure back the far retired bear, from the distant forest, again to inhabit in the young wilderness, growing up in our flourishing cornfields and rich meadows ; and spreading, with briars and brambles, over our most ' pleasant places.' All this shall come to pass, to the intent that New-Eng- land may again become a lair for wild beasts, and a hunting, ground for savages. The graves of our parents be polluted ; and the place made holy by the first footsteps of our pilgrim forefathers, become profaned, by the midnight orgies of bar- barous incantation. The eveninjr wolf shall ajzain howl od our hills, and the echo of his yell mingle once more with tho sound of our water-falls. The sanctuaries of God shall be made desolate. Where now a whole people congregate in thanksgiving for the benefactions of time, and in humble supplication for the mercies of eternity, there those very 272 BUKGES' SPEECH. houses shall then be left without a tenant. The owl, at noon-day, may roost on the high altar of devotion, and the ' fox look out at the window,' on the utter solitude of a New- England Sabbath. New-England shall, indeed, under this proscribing policy, be what Switzerland was, under that of France. New- England, which, like Switzerland, is the eagle nest of free- dom ; New-England, where, as in Switzerland, the cradle of infant hberty 'was rocked by whirlwinds, in their rage;' New-England shall, as Switzerland was, in truth, be ' the im- molated victim, where nothing but the skin remains uncon- sumed by the sacrifice ;' New-England, as Switzerland had, shall have ' nothing left but her rocks, her ruins, and her demagogues.' The mind, Sir, capable of conceiving a project of mis- chief so gigantic, must have been early schooled, and deeply imbued with all the great principles of moral evil. What, then. Sir, shall we say of a spirit, regarding this event as a < consummation devoutly to be wished V — a spirit without one attribute, or one hope, of the pure in heart ; a spirit which begins and ends every thing, not with prayer, but with imprecation ; a spirit which blots from the great canon of petition, ' Give us this day our daily bread;' that, foregoing bodily nutriment, he may attain to a higher relish for that unmingled food, prepared and served up to a soul < hungering and thirsting after wickedness ;' a spirit which, at every rising sun, exclaims, < Hodie ! hodie ! Carthago delenda /' ' To-day, to-day ! let New-England be destroyed !' Sir, Divine Providence takes care of his own universe. Moral monsters cannot propagate. Impotent of every thing but malevolence of purpose, they can no otherwise multiply miseries, than by blaspheming all that is pure, and prosper- ous, and happy. Could demon propagate demon, the universe might become a Pandemonium ; but I rejoice that the Fa- ther of Lies can never become the father of liars. One 'adversary of God and man,' is enough for one universe. Too much ! Oh ! how much too much for one nation. EXTRACT FROM A SER3IOIV, ON THE DEATH OF HON. WILLLOI PI?.'CKNEV. BY JARED SPARKS. No object is so insignificant, no event so trivial, as not to carry with it a moral and religious influence. The trees that spring out of the earth are moralists. They are em- blems of the life of man. They grow up ; they put on the garments of freshness and beauty. Yet these continue but for a time ; decay seizes upon the root and the trunk, and they gradually go back to their original elements. The blossoms that open to the rising sun, but are closed at night, never to open again, are moralists. The seasons are mor- alists, teaching the lessons of wisdom, manifesting the won- ders of the Creator, and calling on man to reflect on his condition and destiny. History is a perpetual moralist, disclosing the annals of past ages, showing the impotency of pride and greatness, the weakness of human power, the folly of human wisdom. The daily occurrences in society are moralists. The success or failure of enterprise, the pros- perity of the bad, the adversity of the good, the disappointed hopes of the sanguine and active, the sufferings of the vir- tuous, the caprices of fortune in every condition of life, all these are fraught with moral instructions, and, if properly applied, will fix the power of religion in the heart. But there is a greater moralist still ; and that is Death. Here is a teacher, who speaks in a voice, which none can mistake ; who comes with a power, which none can resist. 274 sparks' sermon ok Since we last assembled in this place as the humble and united worshippers of God, this stern messenger, this mys- terious agent of Omnipotence, has come among our num- bers, and laid his withering hand on one, whom we have been taught to honor and respect, whose fame was a nation's boast, whose genius was a brilliant spark from the ethereal fire, whose attainments were equalled only by the grasp of his intellect, the profoundness of his judgment, the exube- rance of his fancy, the magic of his eloquence. It is not my present purpose to ask your attention to any picture drawn in the studied phrase of eulogy. I aim not to describe the commanding powers and the eminent qualities, which conducted the deceased to the superiority he held, and which were at once the admiration and the pride of his countrymen. I shall not attempt to analyze his capacious mind, nor to set forth the richness and variety of its treasures. The trophies of his genius area sufficient testimony of these, and constitute a monument to his memory, which will stand firm and conspicuous amidst the faded recollections of future ages. The present is not the time to recount the sources or the memorials of his greatness. He is gone. The no- blest of Heaven's gifts could not shield even him from the arrows of the destroyer. And this behest of the Most High is a warning summons to us all. When death comes into our doors, we ousfht to feel that he is near. When his irre- versible sentence falls on the great and the renowned, when he severs the strongest bonds, which can bind mortals to earth, we ought to feel that our hold on life is slight, that the thread of existence is slender, that we walk amidst perils, where the next wave of the agitated sea of Ufe, may baffle all our struggles, and carry us back into the dark bosom of the deep. When we look at the monuments of human greatness, and the powers of human intellect, all that genius has invented, or skill executed, or wisdom matured, or industry achieved, or labor accomplished ; when we trace these through the THE DEATH OF PINCKNEY. 275 successive gradations of luiman advancement, wliat are they ? On these are founded the pride, glory, dignity of man. And what are they ? Compared with the most insignificant work of God, they are nothing, less than notliing. The mighti- est works of man are daily and hourly becoming extinct. The boasted theories of religion, morals, government, which took the wisdom, the ingenuity of ages, to invent, have been proved to be shadowy theories only. Genius has wast- ed itself in vain ; the visions it has raised have vanished at the touch of truth. Nothing is left but the melancholy cer- tainty, that all things human are imperfect, and must fail and decay. And man himself, whose works are so fragile, where is he ? The history of his works is the history of him- self. He existed ; he is gone. The nature of human life cannot be more forcibly descri- bed than in the beautiful language of eastern poetry, which immediately precedes the text : " Man, that is born of wo- man, is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower and is cut down ; he fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not. There is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground ; yet, throuo-h the scent of water, it will bud and bring forth boughs like a plant. But man wasteth away ; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and whore is he ?" Such are the striking emblems of human life ; such is the end of all that is mortal in man. And what a question is here for us to reflect upon ! " Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he ?" Yes, when we see the flower of life fade on its stalk, and all its comeliness depart, and all its freshness wither ; when we see the bright eye grow dim, and the rose on the cheek lose its hue ; when we hear the voice faltering its last accents, and see the energies of nature paralyzed ; when we perceive the beams of intelligence grow fainter and fainter on the countenance, and the last gleam of life extinguished : when 276 sparks' sermon on we deposit all that is mortal of a felloW-being in the dark, cold chamber of the grave, and drop a pitying tear at a spec- tacle so humiliating, so mournful ; then let us put the solemn question to our souls, Where is he ? His body is concealed in the earth ; but where is the spirit ? Where is the intel* lect that could look through the works of God, and catch inspiration from the Divinity which animates and pervades the whole ? Where are the powers that could command, the attractions that could charm ? where the boast of humanity, wisdom, learning, wit, eloquence, the pride of skill, the mys- tery of art, the creations of fancy, the brilliancy of thought? where the virtues that could win, and the gentleness that could soothe ? where the mildness of temper, the generous affections, the benevolent feelings, all that is great and good, all that is noble and lovely, and pure in the human char- acter, — where are they ? They are gone. We can see nothing : the eye of faith only can dimly penetrate the re- gion to which they have fled. Lift the eye of faith ; follow the light of the Gospel ; and let your delighted vision be lost in the glories of the immortal world. Behold, there, the spirits of the righteous dead rising up into newness of life, gathering brightness and strength, unincumbered by the weight of mortal clay and mortal sorrows, enjoying a happy existence, and performing the holy service of their Maker. Let our reflections on death have a weighty and immedi- ate influence on our minds and characters. We cannot be too soon nor too entirely prepared to render the account, which we must all render to our Maker and Judge. All things earthly must fail us ; the riches, power, possessions and gifts of the world will vanish from our sight; friends and relatives will be left behind ; our present support will be taken away ; our strength will become weakness ; and the earth itself, and all its pomps, and honors, and attrac- tions will disappear. Why have we been spared even till this time? We know not why, nor yet can we say that a ON THE DEATH OF PINCKNEY. 277 moment is our own. The summons for our departure may now be recorded in the book of Heaven. The angel may now be on his way to execute his solemn commission. Death may already have marked us for his victims. But, whether sooner or later, the event will be equally awful, and demand the same preparation. One, only, will then be our rock and our safety. The kind Parent, who has upheld us all our days, will remain our unfailing support. With him is no change ; he is un- moved from age to age ; his mercy, as welU as his being, endures forever ; and, if we rely on him, and live in obedi- ence to his laws, all tears shall be wiped from our eyes, and all sorrow banished from our hearts. If we are rebels to his cause, slaves to vice, and followers of evil, we must expect the displeasure of a holy God, the just punishment of- our folly and wickedness ; for a righteous retribution will be awarded to the evil as well as to the good. Let it be the highest, the holiest, the unceasing concern of each one of us, to live the life, that we may be pre- pared to die the death, of the righteous ; that, when they who come after us shall ask. Where is he ? unnumbered voices shall be raised to testify, that, although his mortal remains are mouldering in the cold earth, his memory is em- balmed in the cherished recollections of many a friend who knew and loved him ; and all shall say, with tokens of joy and confident belief. If God be just, and piety be rewarded, his pure spirit is now at rest in the regions of the blessed. H SPEECH OF SA-GU-YU-WHAT-HAH, OR RED-JACKET, TO AN INDIAN MISSIONARY, WHO REQUESTED PERMIS- SION TO TEACH THE INDIANS CHRISTIANITY, — ©fQO— Friend and Brother ! — he began — It was the will of the Great Spirit that we should meet together this day. He orders all things, and he has given us a fine day for our council. He has taken his garment from before the sun, and caused it to shine with brightness upon us. Our eyes are opened that we see clearly. Our ears are unstopped that we have been able to hear distinctly the words that you have spoken. For all these favors we thank the Great Spirit, and him only. Brother ! — This council fire was kindled by you. It was at your request that we came together at this time. We have listened with attention to what you have said. You requested us to speak our minds freely. Tliis gives us great joy, for we consider that we stand upright before you, and can speak what we think. All have heard your voice, and all speak to you as one man. Our minds are agreed. Brother ! — You say you want an answer to your talk before you leave this place. It is right you should have one, as you are a great distance from home, and we do not wish to detain you. But we will first look back a little, and tell you what our fathers have told us, and what we have heard from the white people. Brother ! — Listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers owned this great island. Their seas RED JACKET S SPEECH. 279 extended from the rising to the setting sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of Indians. He had created the buffalo, the deer, and other animals for food. He made the bear and the baaver, and their skins served us for cloth- ing. He had scattered them over the country, and taught us how to take them. He had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for his rod children because he loved them. If we had any disputes about hunt- ing-grounds, they were generally settled without the spilling of much blood. But an evil day came upon us. Your fore- fathers crossed the great waters, and landed on this island. Their numbers were small. They found friends and not ene- mies. They told us they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a small seat. We took pity on them and grant- ed their request, and they sat down amongst us. We gave them corn and meat. They gave us poison in return. The white people had now found our country. Tidings were car- ried back, and more came amongst us. Yet we did not fear them. We took them to be friends. They called us broth- ers. We believed them, and gave them a larger seat. At length their numbers had greatly increased. They wanted more land. They wanted our country. Our eyes were opened, and our minds became uneasy. Wars took place. Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were destroyed. They also brought strong liquors among us. It was strong and powerful, and has slain thousands. Brother! — Our seats were once large, and yours were very small. You have now become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. You have got our country, but are not satisfied. You want to force your religion upon us. Brother! — continue to Hsten. You say that you are sent to instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit agreeably to his mind ; and if we do not take hold of the religion 230 hed-jacket's speech, which you white people teach, we shall be unhappy hereaf- ter. You say that you are right and we are lost. How do we know this to be true ? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If it was intended for us as well as for you, why has not the Great Spirit given it to us ; and not only to us, but why did he not give to our forefathers the knowledge of that book, with the means of understanding it rightly ? We only know what you tell us about it. How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the white people. Brother ! — ^You say there is but one way to worship and serve the Great Spirit. If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so much about it ? Why not all agree, as you can all read the book ? Brother ! — We do not understand these things. We are told that your religion was given to your forefathers, and has been handed down from father to son. We also have a re- ligion which was given to our forefathers, and has been handed down to us their children. We worship that way. It teaches us to be thankful for all the favors we receive, to love each other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion. Brother ! — ^The Great Spirit has made us all. But be has made a great difference between his white and his red children. He has given us a different complexion and dif- ferent customs. To you he has given the arts ; to these be has not opened our eyes. We know these things to be true. Since he has made so great a difference between us in other things, why may we not conclude that he has given us a different religion, according to our understanding ? The Great Spirit does right. He knows what is best for his children. We are satisfied. Brother ! — We do not wish to destroy your religion, or take it from you. We only Avant to enjoy our own. Brother ! — You say you have not come to get our land or our money, but to enlighten aur minds. I will now tell yoa TO A MISSIONARr. 281 that I have been at your meetings and saw you collecting money from the meeting. I cannot tell what this money was intended for, but suppose it was for your minister ; and if we should conform to your way of thinking, perhaps you may want some from us. Brother ! — We are told that you have been preaching to white people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We are acquainted with them. We will wait a little while and see what effect your preaching has upon them. If we find it does them good and makes them honest and less dis- posed to cheat Indians, we will then consider again what you have said. Brother ! — You have now heard our answer to your talk, and this is all we have to say at present. As we are''going to part, we will take you by the hand, and hope the Great Spirit will protect you on your journey, and return you safe to your friends. 24* EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE BILL FOR THE RELIEF OF CERTAIN SURVIVING OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY. BY MARTIN VAN BUREN. — e^^— Let us look, for a moment^^at the arguments advanced by the opponents of the bill. The meritorious services of the petitioners, the signal advantages that have resulted from these services to us and to posterity ; the losses sustained by the petitioners, and the consequent advantages derived by the government from the act of commutation, are une- quivocally admitted. But it is contended, we have made a compromise legally binding on the parties, and exonerating the government from farther liability ; that in an evil and unguarded hour they have given us a release, and we stand upon our bond* Now the question which I wish to address to the con- science and the judgments of this honorable body, is this, not whether this issue was well taken in point of law ; not whether we might not hope for a safe deliverance under it f but whether the issue ought to be taken at all ; whether it comports with the honor of the government to plead a legal exemption against the claims of gratitude ; whether, in other words, the government be bound at all times to insist upon its strict legal rights. Has this been the practice of the government on all former occasions? Or, is this the only question on which this principle should operate ? Nothing can be easier than to show that the uniform practice of the government has been VAN buken's speech. 283 at war with the principle which is now opposed to the claim of tho petitioners. Not a session has occurred since the commencement of this government, in which Congress has not relieved the citizens from hardships resulting from unforeseen contingen- cies, and forborne an enforcement of law, when its enforce- ment would work great and undeserved injury. F might, if excusable on an occasion like this, turn over the statute book, page by page, and give repeated proofs of this asser- tion. But it is unnecessary. It appears, then, that it has not been the practice of the government to act the part of Shylock with its citizens ; and God forbid that it should make its debut on the present occasion, not so much in the character of a merciless cred- itor, as a reluctant, though wealthy debtor; withholding the merited pittance from those to whose noble daring and unri- vailed fortitude, we are indebted for the privilege of sitting in judgment on their claims ; and manifesting more sensibil- ity for the purchasers of our lands than for those by whose bravery they were won, and but for whose achievements, those very purchasers, instead of being the proprietors of their soil, and the citizens of free and sovereign states, might now be the miserable vassals of some worthless favorite of arbitrary power. If disposed to be less liberal to the Revolutionary officers than to other classes of community, let us at least testify our gratitude by reUeving their sufferings, and returning a por- tion of those immense gains which have been the glorious fruits of their toil and of their blood. Such would, in my judgment, be a correct view of the subject, had the government relieved itself of all farther lia- bility by the most ample and unexceptionable performance of its stipulations. How much stronger, then, will be their appeal to your justice, if it can be shown that you have no right to urge this act of commutation as a complete fulfd- ment of your promise 1 EXTRACT FROM AN ADDRESS, TO THE STUDENTS OF RUTGERS COLLEGE. BY WILLIAM WIRT. • The man who is so conscious of the rectitude of his in- tentions, as to be wilUng to open his bosom to the inspection of the world, is in possession of one of the strongest pillars of a decided character. The course of such a man will be firm and steady, because he has nothing to fear from the world, and is sure of the approbation and support of Heaven. While he, who is conscious of secret and dark designs which, if known, would blast him, is perpetually shrinking and dodging from public observation, and is afraid of all around, and much more of all above him. Such a man may, indeed, pursue his iniquitous plans, steadily ; he may waste himself to a skeleton in the guilty pursuit ; but it is impossible that he can pursue them with the same] health-inspiring confidence, and exulting alacrity, with him who feels, at every step, that he is in pursuit of honest ends, by honest means. The clear, unclouded brow, the open countenance, the brilliant eye which can look an honest man steadfastly, yet courteously in the fiice, the healthfully beating heart, and the firm, elastic step, belong to him whose bosom is free from guile, and who knows that all his motives and purposes are pure and right. Why should such a man falter in his WIUt's AUURES3. 285 course ? He may be slandered ; he may be deserted by tho world ; but he has that w ithin which will keep him erect, and enable him to move onward in his course with his eyes fixed on Heaven, which he knows will not desert him. Let your first step, then, in that discipline which is to give you decision of character, be the heroic determination to be honest men, and to preserve this character through every vicissitude of fortune, and in every relation which connects you with society. I do not use this phrase, " hon- est men," in the narrow sense, merely, of meeting your pe- cuniary engagements, and paying your debts ; for this tho common pride of gentlemen will constrain you to do. I use it in its larger sense of discharging all your duties, both public and private, both open and secret, with the most scrupulous. Heaven-attesting integrity : in that sense, far- ther, which drives from the bosom all little, dark, crooked, sordid, debasing considerations of self, and substitutes in their place a bolder, loftier, and nobler spirit : one that will dispose you to consider yourselves as born, not so much for yourselves, as for your country, and your fellow-creatures, and which will lead you to act on every occasion sincerely, justly, generously, magnanimously. There is a morality on a larger scale, perfectly consistent with a just attention to your own affairs, which it would bo the height of folly to neglect : a generous expansion, a proud elevation, and conscious greatness of character, which is the bsst preparation for a decided course, into every situation into which you can be thrown ; and, it is to this high and noble tone of character that I would have you to aspire. I would not have you to resemble those weak and meager streamlets, which lose their direction at every petty impedi- ment that presents itself, and stop, and turn back, and creep around, and search out every little channel through which they may wind their feeble and sickly course. Nor yet would I have you to resemble the headlong torrent that car- ries havoc in its mad career. 286 WIRx'd ADDRESS. But I would have you like the ocean, that noblest em- blem of majestic Decision, which, in the calmest hour, still heaves its resistless might of waters to the shore, filling the heavens, day and night, with the echoes of its sublime Decla- ration of Independence, and tossing and sporting on its bed, with an imperial consciousness of strength that laughs at opposition. It is this depth, and weight, and power, and purity of character, that I would have you to resemble ; and I would have you, like the waters of the ocean, to become the purer by your own action. *:XTRACT FR03I A SPEECH, ON A BILL FOR THE RELIEF OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY. BY TRISTAM BURGES. Permit me, then, Sir, to request each gentleman of this committee to look at this provision for the survivors of this Army ; and then to look at the kind, the amount, and -the manner of their payment. In what country or age of the world, in modern times, was ever, before this, such an Army kept in the field five years, at a current expense of little more than two millions of dollars ? Place over against this sum, in the fiscal accounts of the nation, the one hundred and twenty millions expended in the three years' war of 1812, and in the immense diflcrence of these two sums, you will be enabled, as if aided by a glass, to catch some faint outline of those times, when a Revolutionary soldier fought your battles for sixty shillings per month, and while travelling home, paid seventy-five dollars for a dinner. Examine the account. A fearful balance will be found standing against the nation in the forum of conscience. Wipe it ofi", I pray of you. Sir, by passing the provisions of this Bill to our credit in that ever-during tribunal. Suffer not the impartial adjudication of history to be there recorded against us. You all must recollect that the self-devotion of that young hero of Palestine, who, though fainting with thirst, yet refused to taste the water of his native spring, presented to him by three of his youthful warriors, because they had put their lives in their haads, and cut their way through an enemy's 288 surges' speech, camp to obtain it. " As God liveth, it is your blood," ex» claimed the generous chieftain. " I may not drink of it." This money in our Treasury is, Sir, the blood of these men. Give it back to them. It will not prosper in our hands. If, notwithstanding these things, it should be said that this account has been compromised with these men, and ultimately settled, let it, if you please, Sir, be so considered ; but do not forget the different results of this compromise. About the close of the war, the whole national debt ; all Government had borrowed of foreigners ; all they had bor- rowed of citizens ; all the United States owed to the several States ; all they owed to the army, as by Madison, Hamil- ton, and Ellsworth, is reported to Congress, in their address to the States, amounted to forty-two millions three hundred and seventy-five dollars. What would the amount have been, had you paid your armies in silver and gold ? What ! had you redeemed your two hundred millions of Continental money, hundred for hundred, in Spanish milled dollars ? The Government saved some portion of the immense difference — how? By negotiations— with whom? Those men, who, in the Cabinet, conducted our glorious Revolution, are wor- thy to be held in everlasting veneration. Let us. Sir, from the savings made by the economical negotiations of those days, when the poverty and not the wiU of the Government consented, draw some fair and honorable provision for this venerable remnant of the Revolutionary Army ; and, atten- tive to that voice of national magnanimity, calling to us from every region of our country, make one redeeming effort, now, in the times of maturity and abundance, to soften the rigor of those transactions, which grew up under a cold and unpropitious influence, in the years of oppressed and parsi- monious minority. Let us, however, give up this question to the cavils of debate, and allow that we owe these men nothing ; that in settlement with them, we saved nothing ; that we have paid them, to the full, the amount of their wages ; and in a man- IN CONGRESS. 289 «er, too, according to the literal terms of the contract. Sir, between such an army and such a nation, are there not some higher and holier feelings, than those resulting from the gross working-day relations of mere debt and credit ? Few men live now, who lived in those days, when first com- menced those higher relations, now existing, between this army and this country ; few, I say, whose memory fully comprehends the stormy years of our Revolution, and the halcyon days of our prosperity. Indeed, Sir, since this prO' vision was laid on your table, two men have left the world, whose illustrious lives, did, like the bright bow of Heaven, touch the two extremes of this varied horizon. They owed their glory to the darkness of its clouds ; their lustre to the brightness of its sunshine. Enough, however, live, who do know, that there never was before such an army ; such" a service ; such a result. Without this army our Revolution had never been achiev- ed. Instead of " thus sitting; thus consulting;" thus, in all the pride and power of self-government, we had to this hour, been the mere appurtenances of foreign empire ; drag- ging after us the weary chain of colonial dependence. The enterprising trade of your fathers was confined to the waters, and the ports of Great Britain. This army con- quered for you the freedom of the seas and the commerce of the world. They too conquered for you, the lands, from almost the waters of the Mexican Gulf to the head springs of the Mississippi ; and thus finally brought into your acqui- sition your whole present territory; extending over the broad breast of the Continent, from ocean to ocean. What a wilderness of wealth ! What a teeming parent of populous and powerful States ! The old Colonies were mere sepa- rate Colonies. The Revolution united their hands, and formed them into a political brotherhood. This army sus- tained that Union ; placed us on the broad basis of inde^ pendence ; and we are, by their toils and jeopardies, now a Ration, among the most efficient and prosperous. Does no 25 290 SURGES SPEECH, spirit of gratiude call on this nation to remember, and to relieve the survivors of that army, now, as they are "old and weary with service?" I pray of you. Sir, let their country give thern this one look of kindness — pour this one beam of gladness on the desolate twilight of their days. Does any one doubt whether the spirit of the nation will go along with us, in making this provision ? Why, Sir, when that venerable man, now standing in the canvass yonder on your wall, two years ago stood in his proper person on this floor, the whole nation seemed to spring forward to give him the hand of gratulation. Was this done because he was the noble descendant of a long line of illustrious ancestors, a warrior and a patriot in another country 1 Was it not rather because he was a soldier of our Revolutionary army ? When he travelled from city to city, and the universal People went out to meet, to welcome, and to receive him to their abodes, was it not because he was a soldier of our Revolu- tionary army ? When, from State to State he moved, under one continued shout of congratulation, it was not the great and illustrious nobleman, but the long remembered and deeply endeared soldier of our Revolutionary army, whom the People delighted to honor. At last, when he left our shores, carrying with him such testimonials as were appro- priate for such a nation to give, and such a man to receive, no American imagined, though such was the fact, that we h ad been doing honors to the most meritorious man in Eu- rope — all men believed that it was but the expression of na- tional gratitude to the soldier, the Revolutionary soldier, who had devoted his youth, his fortune and his blood, in defence of our independence ! Is there no such sentiment now in the bosom of our nation, embracing, warmly embracing, these, his venerable brothers in arms ? At the last great national festival of Independence, the first Jubilee of our country, why were these men, by a kind of simultaneous sentiment " beating in every pulse," through h e nation, called out to assist at the solemnities, and to rV CONGRESS. 291 partake of the joys and festivities of the day ? Was this done, Sir, merely to tantalize their hopes ? or was it done to assure them, that already the voice of the People had awarded to them this provision, and that they were only to wait until the forms of law had given efficiency to this award — until the recorded enactments of their Representa- tives in Congress had embodied and pronmlgated this great voice of the People ? Sir, the character of your bestowment on Lafayette de- pends on the fate of this measure. Make this provision for the remainder of your revolutionary army, and this and that will forever stand on the page of history, as illustrious deeds of national gratitude. Send away these, his meritorious brothers in arms, to " beg their bread through realms their valor saved," and your gifts to that illustrious foreigner will, in the eyes of other nations, and of posterity, serve only to purchase for you the character of a poor and a pitiful ostentation. After all. Sir, what is this vast sum, which, if bestowed on the survivors of the army, may, as some anxious gentle- men have intiiTiated, exhaust the National Treasury? It is three millions of dollars ; three dimes a head to our whole population of tiielast census. This too, in a stock; a legacy charged on the rich inheritance which, as we hope, will be transmitted by us to our children, and who will rejoice that we have left them something to do in memory of these ven- erable friends of their fatiiers. The annual interest of this sum, at five per cent, will amount to one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Our very school boys would pay it. Yes, Sir ; they would pay it. I have a boy nine years old ; quite as much, and no more patriotic than the children of each gen- tleman in this Hall ; and I do believe. Sir, I could reckon up among my constituents six hundred and ninety-nine more, the fithers of such sons, all middling-interest men too; nor is it doubted that every gentleman in this House might, from his own district, bring into ths enumeration quite as 292 BUKGES' SPEECH. long a list. There are, Sir, of this description of boys in the United States, at the least, one hundred and fifty thousand. They have heard much, and already read something of the war and of the army. We give to them some small annual subsidy, more or less, to purchase the toys and the sports of childhood ; indeed, how interesting to that young age of cheap delights ! Should we, on the quarter-day of this little annuity, say, each of us, to our little sons, shall I give you all of this dollar, or take out one quarter to pay the aged survivors of the army : what. Sir, would be the answer — the unprompted, simultaneous answer, and in the most animated note of delighted childhood, and heard, too, if such a voice could be so heard, from one end to the other of our country -. — what would it be ? Why, Sir, with eyes glistening with ecstacy, with imploring hands, and a voice hurried with eagerness, they would exclaim, " Give it, dear father, give it to the old soldier ; we can be very happy with much less play ; but they cannot live without bread," EXTRACT FR03I A SERMON, ON THE REASONABLENESS OF CHRISTIAN FAITH. BY JOSEPH S. BUCKMINSTER. It is a common artifice, of those who wish to depreciate the value of this essential principle of a christian's life, to represent faith as something opposed to reason. So far is this from being true, that faith is, in fact, the most reasonable thing in the world ; and, wherever religion is not concerned, the universal practice of mankind evinces, that such a prin- ciple is indispensable to the most common exercise of the understanding, and to the daily conduct of Ufe. Faith is reasonable, because it is the involuntary homage which the mind pays to the preponderance of evidence. Faith, that is not founded on testimony, is no longer faith. And as it is sufficient evidence only, on which a rational faith can be supported, so if the whole of this evidence is intelligibly presented to a sound understanding, it will not fail to command belief. An eye, not affected by disease, easily distinguishes colors ; and we unavoidably believe the existence of the objects within the sphere of its vision. Now the laws of moral probability are just as sure as the laws of vision. That the same exhibition of facts, or the same pro- cess of I'easoning, does not produce equal conviction on dif- ferent minds, is not more suprising than that the same glasses will not make objects equally distinct to eyes dif- ferently affected. But to conclude, from this variety of effect, that the objects presented do not exist, or that the 25* Sf04 BtrCKMINSTER's SERMON, laws of vision are ill-founded and absurd, would be no more unreasonable than to assume the folly of religious faith, or to doubt the rational conviction of a pious and impartial in- quirer, merely because the whole world are not believers. We cannot wonder, that the evidences, on which our christian faith is built, do not produce universal conviction, when we remember, that this is a religion, which contra- dicts many of the selfish propensities of the heart, and is at war with all the lusts to which we are habitually enslaved. It is a religion, which condemns many of our habits, and requires us to moderate ouy growing attachment to a world we cannot bear to leave ; a religion, which often opposes our passions, which shows us the folly of our fondest expect- ations, which alarms our sleeping fears, undervalues the objects of our estimation, requires the surrender of our pre- judices, and makes it necessary for us to be in readiness to yield up even our comforts and our life. Astonishing would it be, indeed, if a system like this should command universal belief, if prejudice should have nothing to object, captiousness nothing to cavil at, and indifference no excuses. Astonishing, indeed, would it be, if the evidences of such a revelation should be received, with equal facility, by the worldly and the spiritual, the careless and the inquisitive, the proud and the humble, the ambitious and the unaspiring, the man immersed in pleasure and dissipation, and the man who has been long disciplined in the school of disappointment and affliction. Neither is religious faith unreasonable, because it includes miraculous events, nor because it embraces a series of truths, which no individual reason could have ascertained, or of which it may not, even now, see the necessity. It is on this account, however, that we so often hear faith opposed to reason ; but, on the same principle, faith in any extraor- dinary occurrence would be opposed to reason. The only objection to the credibility of miracles is, that they are contrary to general experience ; for to say, that ON CHRISTIAN FAITH. 295 they arc contrary to universal experience, is to assume the very fact in question. Because they are supernatural, no testimony, it is maintained, can make it reasonable to be- livc them. This would not bo just, even if the miracles which religious faith embraces were separate, insulated facts, which had no connexions with any other interesting truths ; much less when they make part of a grand system, altogether worthy the interposition of God to establish. The extraordinary nature of miraculous facts, considered by themselves, is, it is true, a presumption against them, but a presumption, which suthcient testimony ought as fairly to remove, as it does remove the previous' improbability of ordi- nary facts, not supernatural. A man, born and living with- in the tropics, who had never seen water congealed, would no doubt think it a very strange story, if a ti-avellcr from the north should assure him, that the same substance, which he had always seen liquid, was every year, in other countries, converted into a solid mass capable of sustaining the great- est weights. What could more decisively contradict all the experience of the tropical inhabitant, and even the experience of those with whom he had always been connected ? Yet should wo not think it very unreasonable, if he should, in this case, persist in discrediting the testimony even of a single man, whose veracity he had no reason to suspect, and much more, if he should persist in opposition to the concurrent and con- tinually increasing testimony of numbers ? Let this be an illustration of the reasonableness of your faith in miracles. As it respects the credibility of revelation, you have this alternative. Will you believe, that the pure system of christian faith, which appeared eighteen hundred years ago, in one of the obscurest regions of the Roman empire, at the moment of the highest mental cultivation and of the lowest moral degeneracy, which superseded at once all the curious fabrics of pagan philosophy, which spread almost instanta- neously through the civilized world in opposition to the 296 buckminster's sermon. prejudices, the pride and the persecution of the times, which has ah-eady had the most beneficial influence on society, and been the source of almost all the melioration of the human character, and which is now the chief support of the har- mony, the domestic happiness, the morals and the intellect- ual improvement of the best part of the world — will you beheve, I say, that this system originated in the unaided reflections of twelve Jewish fishermen on the sea of Galilee, with the son of a carpenter at their head ? Or will you admit a supposition, which solves all the wonders of this case, which accounts at once for the perfection of the sys- tem, and the miracle of its propagation, — that Jesus was, as he professed to be, the prophet of God, and that his apostles were, as they declared, empowered to perform the miracles, which subdued the incredulity of the world. I appeal to you, ye departed masters of pagan wisjlom, Plato, Socrates, Cicero, which of these alternatives is the most rational, the most worthy of a philosophical assent ? Your systems have passed away, like the light clouds, which chase one another over the hemisphere ; but the gospel of Jesus Christ, the sun of righteousness, pursues its equal and luminous career, uninterrupted and unobscured. Sui'ely, ii a miracle of the New Testament is incredible, what will you say of the enormous faith of a man, who believes in that monster of improbability, which we have described, the simply human origin and progress of Christianity ? EXTRACT FROM A SER3ION, Oi\ THE I3IPORTANCE OF CHRISTIAN FAITH. BY JOSEPH S. BUCKMINSTER. TiiE value of christian faith may bo estimated from the consolation it aflbrds. Who would look back upon the history of the world with the eye of incredulity, after having once read it with the eye of faith ? To the man of faith it is the story of God's operations To the unbeliever it is only the record of the strange sports of a race of agents, as uncontrolled, as they are unaccountable. To the man of faith every portion of history is part of a vast plan, conceived, ages ago, in the mind of Omnipotence, which has been fitted precisely to the period it was intended to occupy. The whole series of events forms a magnificent and symmetrical fabric to the eye of pious contemplation ; and though the don*o be in the clouds, and the top, from its loftiness, be indiscernible to mortal vision, yet the foundations are so deep and solid, that we are sure they are intended to support something perma- nent and grand. To the sceptic all the events of all the ages of the world are but a scattered crowd of useless and indigested materials. In his mind all is darkness, all is incomprehensible. The light of prophecy illuminates not to him the obscurity of ancient annals. He sees in them neither design nor opera- tion, neither tendencies nor conclusions. To him the won- derful knowledge of one people is just as interesting, as the desperate ignorance of another. In the deliverance, which God has sometimes wrought for the oppressed, he sees nothing hut the fact ; and in the oppression and decline of 298 bucksiinster's sermox, haughty empires, nothing but the common accidents of na- tional fortune. Going about to account for events, accord, ing to what he calls general laws, he never for a moment considers, that all laws, whether physical, political, or moral imply a legislator, and are contrived to serve some purpose. Because he cannot always, by his short-sighted vision, dis- cover the tendencies of the mighty events, of which this earth has been the theatre, he looks on the drama of exist- ence around him as proceeding without a plan. Is that principle, then, of no importance, which raises man above what his eyes see, or his ears hear, or his touch feels, at present, and shows him the vast chain of human events, fastened eternallv to the throne of God, and returning, after embracing the universe, again to link itself to the footstool of Omnipotence ? Would you know the value of this principle of faith to the bereaved ? Go, and follow a corpse to the grave. See the body deposited there, and hear the earth tin-own in upon all that remains of your friend. Return, now, if you will, and brood over the lesson, which your senses have given you, and derive from it what consolation you can. You have learned nothing but an unconsoling fact. No voice of com- fort issues from the tomb. All is still there, and blank and lifeless, and has been so for ages. You see nothing but bodies dissolving and successively mingling with the clods, which cover them, the grass grow- ing over the spot, and the trees waving in sullen majesty over this refjion of eternal silence. And what is there more ? Nothing ? — Come, faith, and people these deserts ! Come, and reanimate these regions of forgetfulness ! Mothers ! take again your children to vour arms, for they are living. Sons ! 3'our aged parents are coming forth in the vigor of regen- crated years. Friends ! behold your dearest connexions are waiting to embrace von. The tombs are burst. Genera- tions, long since lost in slumbers, are awaking. They are coming from the east and the west, from the north and from the south, to constitute the community of the blessed. ON CIIRISTIAX FAITH. 299 But it is not in the loss of t>iends alone, that faith furnish- es consolations, which are inestimable. With a man of faith not an allliction is lost, not a change is unimproved. He studies even his own history with pleasure, and finds it full of instruction. The dark passages of his life are illuminated with hope : and he sees, that, although he has passed through many dreary defiles, yet they have opened at last into brighter regions of existence. He recalls, with a species of wondering gratitude, periods of his life, when all its events seemed to conspire against him. Hemmed in by straitened circumstances, wearied with repeated blows of unexpected misfortune, and exhausted with the painful anticipation of more, he recollects years, when the ordinary love of life could not have retained him in the world. Many a time he might have wished to lay down his being in disgust, had hot something more than the senses provide us with, kept up the elasticity of his mind. He yet Uves, and has found that light is sown for tlie righteous, and gladness for tho upright in heart. The man of faith discovers some gracious purpose in every combination of circumstances. Wherever he finds himself, he knows that he has a destination — he has, there- fore, a duty. Every event, has, in his eye, a tendency and an aim. Nothing is accidental, nothing without a purpose, nothing unattended with benevolent consequences. Every thing on earth is probationary, nothing ultimate. He is poor — perhaps his plans have been defeated — he finds it difficult to provide for the exigencies of Ufe — sickness is permitted to invade the quiet of his household — long confinement impris- ons his activity, and cuts short the exertions, on which so many depend — something apparently unlucky mars his best plans — new failures and embarrassments among his friends present themselves, and throw additional obstructions in his way — the world look on, and say, all these things are against him. Some wait coolly for the hour, when he shall sink under the compUcated embarrassments of his cruel fortune. 0th. 300 buckminster's sermon, ers, of a kinder spirit, regard him with compassion, and won- der how he can sustain such a variety of wo. A few there are, a very few I fear, who can understand something of the serenity of his mind, and comprehend something of the nature of his fortitude. There are those, whose sympathetic piety can read and interpret the characters of resignation on his brow. There are those, in fine, who have felt the influence of faith. In this influence there is nothing mysterious, nothing ro- mantic, nothing of which the highest reason may be ashamed. It shows the christian his God, in all the mild majesty of his parental character. It shows you God, disposing in still and benevolent wisdom the events of every individual's life, pressing the pious spirit with the weight of calamity to in- crease the elasticity of the mind, producing characters of unexpected worth by unexpected misfortune, invigorating certain virtues by peculiar probations, thus breaking the fetters which bind us to temporal things, and From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still. In infinite progression. When the sun of the believer's hopes, according to common calculations, is set, to the eye of faith it is still visible. When much of the rest of the world is in darkness, the high ground of faith is illuminated with the brightness of religious consolation. Come, now, my incredulous friends, and follow me to the bed of the dying beUever. Would you see, in what peace a christian can die? Watch the last gleams of thought, which stream from his dying eyes. Do you see any thing like apprehension ? The world, it is true, begins to shut in. The shadows of evening collect around his senses. A dark mist thickens and rests upon the objects, which have hither- to engaged his observation. The countenances of his friends become more and more indistinct. The sweet expresssions ON CHRISTIAN FAITH. 301 of love and friendship are no longer intelligible. His ear wakes no more at the well-known voice of his children, and the soothing accents of tender affection die away, unheard, upon his decaying senses. To him the spectacle of human life is drawing to its close, and the curtain is descending, which shuts out this earth, its actors, and its scenes. He is no longer interested in all that is done under the sun. O ! that I could now open to you the recesses of his soul ; that I could reveal to you the light, which darts into the chambers of his understanding. He approaches the world, which he has so long seen in faith. The imagination now collects its diminished strength, and the eye of faith opens wide. Friends ! do not stand, thus fixed in sorrow, around this bed of death. Why are you so still and silent ? Fear not to move — you cannot disturb the last visions, which en- trance this holy spirit. Your lamentations break not in upon the songs of seraphs, which enwrap his hearing in ec- stasy. Crowd, if you choose, around his couch — he heeds you not — already he sees the spirits of the just advancing tofirether to receive a kindred soul. Press him not with im- portunities; urge him not with alleviations. Think you he wants now these tones of mortal voices — these material, these gross consolations ? No ! He is going to add another to the myriads of the just, that are every moment crowding into the portals of heaven ! He is entering on a nobler life. He leaves you — he leaves you, weeping children of mortality, to grope about a little longer among the miseries and sensualities of a worldly life. Already he cries to you from the regions of bliss. Will you not join him there ? Will you not taste the sublime joys of faith ? There are your predecessors in virtue ; there, too, are places left for your contemporaries. There are seats for you in the assembly of the just made perfect, in the innumerable company of angels, where is Jesus, the media- tor of the new covenant, and God, the judge of all. 26 EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, IN THE TRIAL OF SAMUEL CHASE, A JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, WHO WAS IMPEACHED BEFORE THE SENATE FOR HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS. BY JOSEPH HOPKINSON. A VERY strange and unexpected effort has been made, sir, to raise a prejudice against the respondent on this occa- sion, by exciting or rather forcing a sympathy for John Fries. We have heard him most pathetic ally described as the ignorant, the friendless, the innocent John Fries. The ignorant John Fries ! Is this the man who undertook to decide that a law, which had passed the wisdom of the Con- gress of the United States, was impolitic and unconstitu- tional; and who stood so confident of this opinion, as to maintain it at the point of the bayonet ? He will not thank the gentleman for this compliment, or accept the plea of ignorance as an apology for his crimes. The friendless John Fries ! Is this the man who was able to draw round him- self a band of bold and determined adherents, resolved to defend him and his vile doctrines at the risk of their own lives, and of the lives of all those who should dare to oppose? Is this the John Fries who had power and friends enough actually to suspend, for a considerable time, the authority of the United States over a large district of country, to pre- vent the execution of the laws, and to command and compel the officers, appointed to execute the law ; to abandon the duties of their appointment, and lay the authority of the hopkinson's speech. 803 governmont at the feet of this friendless usurper? The innocent John Fries ! Is this the man, against whom a most respectable grand jury of Pennsylvanin, in 1799, found a bill of indictment for high treason ; and who was after- wards convicted by another jury, equally im[)artial and re- spectable, with the approbation and under the direction of a judge, whose humanity and conduct on that very occa- sion have received the most unqualified praise of the honor- able manager who thus sympathizes with Fries 1 Is this the John Fries, against whom a second grand jury, in 1800, found another bill for the same oftence, founded on the same facts, and who was again convicted by a just and conscien- tious petit jurv ? Is this innocent German, the man who, in pursuance of a wicked opposition to the power and laws of the United States, and a mad confidence in his ability to maintain that opposition, rescued the prisoners duly arrested by the officers of the government and placed those very offi- cers under duress ; who with arms in his hands and menace on his tongue, arrayed himself in military order and strength, put to hazard the safety and peace of the country, and threatened us with all the desolation, bloodshed and horror of a civil war ; who, at the moment of his desperate attack, cried out to his infatuated followers, " come on ! I shall probably fall on the first fire, then strike, stab and kill all you can ?" In the fervid imagination of the honorable manager, the widows and orphans of this man, even before he is dead, are made, in hypothesis, to cry at the judgment-seat of God, against the respondent ; and his blood, though not a drop of it has been spilled, is seen to stain the pure ermine of justice. I confess, sir, as a Pennsylvanian, whose native state has been disgraced with two rebellions in the short period of four years, my car was strangely struck to hear the leader of one of them, addressed with such friendly tenderness, and honored with such flattering sympathy by the honorable manager. 304 hopkinson's speech. It is not unusual, sir, in public prosecutions, for the accu- sed to appeal to his general life and conduct in refutation of the charges. How proudly may the respondent make this appeal. He is charged with a violent attempt to violate the laws and constitution of his country, and to destroy the best liberty of his fellow-citizens. Look, sir, to his past life, to the constant courseof his opinions and conduct, and the im- probability of the charge is manifest. Look to the days of doubt and danger ; look to that glorious struggle so long and so doubtfully maintained for that independence we now enjoy, for those rights of self-government you now exercise, and do you not see the respondent among the boldest of tho bold, never sinking in hope or in exertion, aiding by his tal- ents and encouraging by his spirit ; in short, putting his property and his life in issue on the contest, and making tho loss of both certain, by the active part he assumed, should his country fail of success ? And does this man, who thus gave all his possessions, all his energies, all his hopes to his coun- try and to the liberties of this American people, now employ the small and feeble remnant of his days, without interest or object, to pull down and destroy that very fabric of freedom, that very government and those very rights, be so labored to establish ? It is not credible ; it cannot be credited, but on proof infinitely stronger than any thing that has been offered to this honorable court on this occasion. Indiscre- tions may have been hunted out by the perseverance of persecution ; but I trust most confidently that the just, im- partial and dignified sentence of this court, will completely establish to our country and to the world, that the respond- ent has fully and honorably justified himself against tho charges now exhibited against him ; and has discharged his official duties, not only with the talents that are conceded to him, but with an integrity infinitely more dear to him. ARGUMENT, BEFORE THE SUPREME COURT OF MASSACHUSETTS, IN THE TRIAL OF THOMAS O. SELFRIDGE, FOR KILLING CHARLES AUSTIN. BY SAMUEL DEXTER. It is my duty to submit to your consideration some obser- vations in the close of the defence of this important, and interesting cause. In doing it, though I feel perfectly satis- fied that you are men of pure minds, yet I reflect with anxiety, that no exertion or zeal on the part of the defend- ant's counsel can possibly insure justice, unless you likewise perform your duty. Do not suppose that I mean to suggest the least suspicion with respect to your principles or motives. I know you to have been selected in a manner most likely to obtain impartial justice ; and doubtless you have honestly resolved, and endeavored to lay aside all opinions wliich you may have entertained previous to this trial. But the diffi- culty of doing this, is perhaps pot fully estimated ; a man deceives himself oftener ihan he misleads others ; and he does injustice from hJ-s errors, when his principles are all on the side of rectitude. To exhort him to overcome his pre- judices, is IJJ^e telling a blind man to see. He may be dis- posed to overcome them, and yet be unable because they are unknown to himself. When prejudice is once known, it is no longer prejudice, it becomes corruption ; but so long as it is not known, the possessor cherishes it without guilt ; he feels indignation for vice, and pays homage to virtue; and yet does injustice. It is the apprehension that you may thus mistake, that you may call your prejudices 26* 306 dexter's argument in thk principles, and believe them such, and that their effects may appear to you 'the fruits of virtue, which leads us so anxiously to repeat the request, that you would ex- amine your hearts, and ascertain that you do not come here with partial minds. In ordinary cases, there is no reason for this precaution. Jurors are so appointed, by the institutions of our country, as to place them out of the reach of improper influence, on common occasions ; at least as much so as frail humanity will permit. But when a cause has been a long time the subject of party discussion ; when every man among us belongs to one party or the othei*, or at least is so considered ; when the demo- cratic presses, throughout the country, have teemed with publications, fraught with appeals to the passions, and bitter invective against the defendant ; when, on one side, every thing has been done which party rage could do, to prejudice this cause ; and on the other, little has been said in vindica- tion of the supposed offender, though, en one occasion, I admit that too much has been said ; when silence has been opposed to clamor, and patient waiting for a trial to sys- tematic labor to prevent justice ; when the friends of the accused, restrained by respect for the laws, kept silence, be- cause it was the exclusive right of a court of justice to speak ; when no voice has been heard from the walls of the defend- ant's prison, but a requet,t that he may not be condemned without a trial ; the necessary consequence must be, that opinion will progress one way ; that tho stream of incessant exertion will wear a channel in the public mind ; and the current may be strong enough to carry away those who may be jurors, though they know not how, or when, they receiv- ed the impulse that hurries them forward. 1 am fortunate enough not to know, with respect to most of you, to what political party you belong. Are you repub- lican federalists ? I ask you to forget it : leave all your po- litical opinions behind you ; for it would be more mischievous, that you should acquit the defendant from the influence of TRIAL OF SELKKIDOE. 307 these, than that an innocent man. by mistake, should be con- victed. In the latter case, his would be the misfortune, and to him would it be confined ; but in the other, you violate a principle, and the consequence may be ruin. Consider what would be the elTcct of an impression on the public mind, that in consequence of party opinion and feelings, the defendant was acquitted. Would there still be recourse to the laws, and to the justice of the country ? Would the passions of the citizen, in a moment of frenzy, be calmed by looking forward to the decision of courts of law for justice ? Rather every individual would become the avenger of imaginary transgression. Violence would be repaid with violence ; havoc would produce havoc ; and instead of a peaceable re- currence to the tribunals of justice, the spectre of civil dis- cord would be seen stalking through our streets, scattering desolation, misery and crimes. Such may be the consequences of indulging political pre- judice on this day; and if so, you are amenable to your country and your God. Tiiis I say to you who are feder- alists ; and have I not as much right to speak thus to those who are democratic republicans ? That liberty, which you cherish with so much ardor, depends on your preserving yourselves impartial in a court of justice. It is proved by the history of man, at least of civil society, that the moment tiie judicial power becomes corrupt, liberty expires. What is liberty, but the enjoyment of your rights, free from out- rage or danger ? And what security have you for these, but an impartial administration of justice? Life, liberty, rcpu- tation, property and domestic happiness, are all under its peculiar protection. It is the judicial power, uncorrupted, that brings to the dwelling of every citizen, all the blessings of civil society, and makes it dear to man. Little has tiie private citizen to do with the other branches of the govern- ment. What, to him, are the great and splendid events that aggrandize a few eminent men and make a figure in his- tory '? His domestic happiness is not less real, because it 308 dexter's argument in the will not be recorded for posterity ; but this happiness is his no longer than courts of justice protect it. It is true, inju- ries cannot always be prevented ; but while the fountains of justice are pure, the sufferer is sure of a recompense. Contemplate the intermediate horrors and final despotism, that must result from mutual deeds of vengeance, when there is no longer an impartial judiciary, to which contending parties may appeal, with full confidence that principles will be respected. Fearful must be the interval of anarchy ; fierce the alternate pangs of rage and terror, till one party shall destroy the other, and a gloomy despotism terminate the struggles of conflicting factions. Again, I beseech you to abjure your prejudices. In the language once addressed from Heaven to the Hebrew prophet, " Put off your shoes, for the ground on which you stand is holy." You are the professed friends, the devoted worshippers of civil liberty ; will you violate her sanctuary ? Will you profane her tern- pie of justice ? Will you commit sacrilege while you kneel at her altar? I will now proceed to state the nature of the charge on which you are to decide, and of the defence Avhich wo oppose to it ; then examine the evidence, to ascertain the facts, and then inquire what is the law applicable to those facts. The charge is for manslaughter ; but it has been stated in the opening, that it may be necessary to know something of each species of homicide, in order to obtain a correct idea of that which you are now to consider. Homicide, as a general term, includes, in law, every mode of killing a human being. The highest and most atrocious is murder ; the discriminating feature of which, is previous malice. With that the defendant is not charged ; the grand jury did not think that by the evidence submitted to them, they were authorized to accuse him of that enormous crime. They have, therefore, charged him with manslaughter only. TKIAL OF SELFIUDGE. 309 The very definition of this crime, excludes previous mal- ice ; therefore it is settled, that there cannot, with respect to this oflbncc, be an accessary before the fact ; because the in- tention of committing it is first conceived at the moment of the oft'once, and executed in tlie heat of a sudden passion, or it happens without any such intent, in some unlawful act. It will not be contended that the defendant is guilty of either of these descriptions of manslaughter. Neither party sug- gests that the defendant was under any peculiar impulse of passion at the moment ; and had not time to reflect ; on the contrary, he is said to have been too cool and deliberate. The case in which it is important to inquire, whether the act was done in the heat of blood, is where the indictment is for murder, and the intent of the defence is to reduce the crime from murder to manslaughter : but Seltridge is hot charged with murder. There is nothing in the evidence that has the least tendency to prove an accidental killing, while doing some unlawful act. It is difficult to say, from this view of manslaughter, when compared with the evi- dence, on what legal ground the defendant can be con- victed ; unless it be, that he is to be considered as proved guilty of a crime which might have been charged as murder, and by law, if he now stood before you under an indictment for murder, you might find him guilty of manslaughter, and therefore you may now convict him. This does not appear to be true ; for the evidence would not apply to reduce the offence from murder to manslaugh- ter, on either of the aforementioned grounds. Perhaps it may be said, that every greater includes the less, and there- fore, manslaughter is included in murder ; and that it is on this principle that a conviction for manslaughter may take place on an indictment for murder. I will not detain you to examine this, for it is not doing justice to the defendant to admit, for a moment, for the sake of argument, that the evidence proves murder. Our time will be more usefully employed in considering the principles of the defence. Let 310 dexter's argument in the it be admitted, then, as stated by the counsel for government, that, the kilhng being proved, it is incumbent on the defendant to discharge himself from guilt. Our defence is simply this, that the killing was necessary in self-defence ; or in other words, that the defendant was in such imminent danger of being killed, or suffering other enormous bodily harm, that he had no reasonable prospect of escaping, but by killing the assailant. This is the principle of the defence stripped of all technical language. It is not important to state the difference be- tween justifiable and excusable homicide, or to show to which the evidence will apply ; because, by our law, either being proved, the defendant is entitled to a general acquittal. Let us now recur to the evidence and see whether this defence be not clearly established. [Mr. Dexter here went into a minute examination of the evidence, after which he proceeded to inquire what the law was applicable to the facts established by the evidence. Ho then continued his speech as follows.] We have now taken a view of the facts, and the positive rules of law, that apply to them ; and it is submitted to you with great confidence, that the defendant has brought him- self within the strictest rules, and completely substantiated his defence, by showing that he was under a terrible neces- sity of doing the act ; and that by law he is excused. It must have occurred to you, however, in the course of this investigation, that our law has not been abundant in its pro- visions for protecting a man from gross insult and disgrace. Indeed it was hardly to be expected, that the sturdy hunters, who laid the foundations of the common law, would be very re. fined in their notions. There is in truth much intrinsic diffi- culty in legislating on this subject. Laws must be made to op- erate equally on all members of the community ; and such is the difference in the situations and feelings of men, that no general rule, on this subject, can properly apply to all. That, which is an irreparable injury to one man, and which bo TEIAL OP SELFRIUOE. 311 would feci himself bound to repel even by the instantaneous death of the aggressor, or by his own, would be a very trivial misfortune to another. There are men in every civilized community, whose hap- piness and usefulness would be forever destroyed by a beating, wliich another member of the same community would voluntarily receive for a five dollar bill. Were the laws to authorize a man of elevated mind, and refined feel- ings of honor to defend himself from indignity by the death of the agcressor, thev must at the same time furnish an ex- cuse to the meanest chimney sweeper in the country for punishing his sooty companion, who should fillip him on the cheek, by instantly thrusting his scraper into his belly. But it is too much to conclude, from this difficulty in stating exceptions to the general rule, that extreme cases do not furnish them. It is vain, and worse than vain, to prescribe laws to a community, which will require a dereliction of all dignity of character, and subject the most elevated to out- rages from the most vile. If such laws did exist, the best that could be hoped, would be, that they would be broken. Extreme cases are in their nature exceptions to all rules ; and when a good citizen says, that, the law not having spe- cified them, he must have a right to use his own best discre- tion on the subject ; he only treats the law of his country in the same manner in which every Christian necessarily treats the precepts of his religion. The law of his master is, " resist not evil ;" " if a man smite thee on one cheek, turn to him the other also." No exceptions to these rules are stated ; yet does not every rational Christian necessa- rily make them ? I have been led to make these ob- servations, not because I think them necessary in the de- fence of Mr. Selfridge ; but because I will have no voluntary agency in degrading the spirit of my country. The greatest of all public calamities, would be a pusillanimous spirit, that would tamely surrender personal dignity to every invader. The opposing council have read to you, from books of 312 uexter's argument in the acknowledged authority, that the right of self-defence was not given by the law of civil society, and that, that law cannot take it away. It is founded then on the law of na- ture, which is of higher authority than any human institu- tion. This law enjoins us to be useful, in proportion to our capacities ; to protect the powers of being useful, by all means that nature has given us, and secure our own happi- ness, as well as that of others. These sacred precepts can- not bs obeyed without securing to ourselves the respect of others. Surely, I need not say to you, that the man, who is daily beaten on the public exchange, cannot retain his standing in society, by recurring to the laws. Recovering daily damages will rather aggravate the contempt that the community will heap upon him ; nor need I say, that when a man has patiently suffered one beating, he has almost in- sured the repetition of the insult. It is a most serious calamity, for a man of high qualifica- tions for usefulness, and delicate sense of honor, to be driven to such a crisis, yet should it become inevitable, he is bound to meet it like a man, to summon all the energies of the soul, rise above ordinary maxims, poise himself on his own mag- nanimity, and hold himself responsible only to his God. Whatever may be the consequences, he is bound to bear them ; to stand like mount Atlas, ^ "When storms and tempests thunder on his brow, And oceans break their billows at his feet." Do not believe that I am inculcating opinions, tending to disturb the peace of society. On the contrary, they are the only principles that can preserve it. It is more dan- gerous for the laws to give security to a man, disposed to commit outrages on the persons of his fellow-citizens, than to authorize those who must otherwise meet irreparable injury, to defend themselves at every hazard. Men of em- inent talents and virtues, on whose exertions, in perilous TRIAL OF SELFRIDGE. 313 times, the honor and happiness of their country must depend, will always bo liable to be degraded by every daring miscre- ant, if they cannot defend themselves from personal insult and outrage. Men of this description must always feel, that to submit to degradation and dishonor, is impossible. Nor is this feeling confined to men of that eminent grade. We have thousands in our country who [)ossess this spirit; and without them, we should soon deservedly cease to exist as an independent nation. I respect the laws of my coun- try, and revere the precepts of our holy religion ; I should shudder at shedding human blood ; I would practice mode- ration and forbearance, to avoid so terrible a calamity ; yet should I ever be driven to that impassible point, where de- gradation and disgrace begin, may this arm shrink palsied from its socket, if I fail to defend my own honor. It has been intimated, that the principles of Christianity condemn the defendant. If he is to be tried by this law, he certainly has a right to availhimself of one of its fundamen- tal principles. I call on you then to do to him, as in similar •circumstances, you would expect others to do to you ; change situations for a moment, and ask yourselves, what you would have done, if attacked as he was. And instead of being necessitated to act at the moment, and without reflection, take time to deliberate. Permit me to state, for you, your train of thought. You would say — this man, who attacks me, appears young, athletic, active and violent. I am feeble and incapable of resisting him ; he has a heavy cane, which is undoubtedly a strong one, as he had leisure to select it for the purpose ; he may intend to kill me ; he may, from the violence of his passion, destroy me without intending it ; he may maim or greatly injure me ; by beat- ing me he must disgrace me. This alone destroys all my prospects, all my happiness, and all my usefulness. Where shall I fly, when thus rendered contemptible ? Shall I go abroad? Every one will point at me the finger of scorn. Shall I go home 1 My children — I have taught them to 27 314 DEXTER S AEGUMEXT. shrink from dishonor ; will they call me father ? What is life to me, after suffering this outrage ? Why should I en- dure this accumulated wretchedness, which is worse than death, rather than put in hazard the life of my enemy ? Ask yourselves whether you would not make use of any weapon that might be within your power to repel the injury ; and if it should happen to be a pistol, might you not, with sincere feelings of piety, call on the Father of Mercies to direct the stroke. While we reverence the precepts of Christianit}-, let us not make them void by impracticable construction. They cannot be set in opposition to the law of our nature ; they are a second edition of that law ; they both proceed from the same author. Gentlemen, all that is dear to the defendant, in his future life, is by the law of his country placed in your power. He cheerfully leaves it there. Hitherto he has suffered all that his duty as a good citizen required, with fortitude and pa- tience ; and if more be yet in store for him, he will exhibit to his accusers an example of patient submission to the laws. Yet permit me to say, in concluding his defence, that he feels full confidence that your verdict will terminate his sufferings. KXTRACT FROM AN ARGUMENT, MADE DURING THE TRIAL OF JAMES PRESCOTT, BEFORE THE SENATE OF MASSACHUSETTS. BY DANIEL WEBSTER. The fate of the Respondent is in your hands. It is for you now to say, whether, from the law and the facts as they have appeared before you, you will proceed to disgrace and disfranchise him. If your duty calls on you to convict him, convict him, and let justice bs done ! but I adjure you let it be a clear undoubted case. Let it be so for his sake, for you arc robbing him of that, for which, with all your high powers, you can yield him no compensation ; let it be so for your own sakes, for tho responsibility of this day's judgment is one, which you must carry with you through vour life. For myself, I am willing here to relinquish the character of an advocate, and to express opinions by which I am willing to be bound, as a citizen of the community. And I say upon my honor and conscience, that I see not how, with the law and constitution for your guides, you can pronounce the Respondent guilty. I declare, that I have seen no cas3 of wilful and corrupt official misconduct, set forth according to the requisition of the constitution, and proved according to the common rules of evidence. I see many tilings imprudent and ill judged ; many things that I could w ish had been otherwise ; but corruption and crime I do not see. Sir, the prejudices of the day will soon be forgotten ; the passions, if any there be, which have excited or favored 316 Webster's argument in this prosecution, will subside ; but the consequence of the judgment you are about to render will outlive both them and you. The Respondent is now brought, a single unprotected individual, to this formidable bar of judgment, to stand against the power and authority of the State. I know you can crush him, as he stands before you, and clothed as you are with the sovereignty of the State. You have the power " to change his countenance, and to send him away." — Nor do I remind you that your judgment is to be rejudged by the community ; and as you have summoned him for trial to this high tribunal, you are soon to descend yourselves from these seats of justice, and stand before the higher tri- bunal of the world. I would not fail so much in respect to this Hon. Court, as to hint that it could pronounce a sen- tence, which the community will reverse. No sir, it is not the world's revision, which I would call on you to regard ; but that of your own consciences when years have gone by, and you shall look back on the sentence you are about to render. If you send away the Respondent, condemned and sentenced, from your bar, you are yet to meet him in the world, on which you cast him out. — You will be called to behold him a disgrace to his family, a sorrow and a shame to his chil- dren, a living fountain of grief and agony to himself. If you shall then be able to behold him only as an unjust judge, whom vengeance has overtaken, and justice has blasted, you will be able to look upon him, not without pity, but yet without remorse. But, if, on the other hand, you shall see, whenever and wherever you meet him, a victim of prejudice or of passion, a sacrifice to a transient excitement ; if you shall see in him, a man, for whose condemnation any pro- vision of the constitution has been violated, or any principle of law broken down ; then will he be able — humble and low as may be his condition — then will he be able to turn the current of compassion backward, and to look with pity on those who have been his judges. If you are about to visit this Respondent with a judgment which shall blast his house ; THE TRIAL OF I'RESCOTT. 317 if tlic bosoms of the innocent and the amiable are to be made to bleed under your infliction, I beseech you to be able to state clear and strong grounds for your proceeding. Preju- dice and excitement are transitory, and will pass away. Polit- ical expediency, in matters of judicature, is a false and hol- low principle, and will never satisfy the conscience of him who is fearful that he may have given a hasty judgment, earnestly entreat you, for your ov.n sakes, to possess your- selves of solid reasons, founded in truth and justice, for the judgment you pronounce, which you can carry with you, till you go down into your graves ; reasons, which it will require no argument to revive, no sophistry, no excitement, no re- gard to popular favor, to render satisfactory to your. con- sciences ; reasons which you can appeal to, in every crisis of your lives, and which shall be able to assure you, in your own great extremity, that you have not judged a fellow crea- ture without mercy. Sir, I have done v,'ith the case of this individual, and now leave him in your hands. But I would yet once more ap- peal to you as public men ; as statesman ; as men of enlight- ened minds, capable of a large view of things, and of foresee- ing the remote consequences of important transactions ; and, as such, I would most earnestly implore you to consider fully of the judgment you may pronounce. You are about to give a construction to constitutional provisions, which may adhere to that instrument for ages, either for good or evil. I may perhaps overrate the importance of this occasion to the public welfare ; but I confess it does appear to me that if this body give its sanction to some of the principles which have been advanced on this occasion, then there is a power in thn State above the constitution and the law ; a power essen- tially arbitrary and concentrated, the exercise of which may be most dangerous. If impeachment be not under the rule of the constitution and the laws, then we may tremble, not only for those who may b3 impeached, but for all others. If the full benefit of every constitutional provision be not extended to 27* 318 Webster's ARGtrMENf. the Respondent, his case becomes the case of all the people of the Commonwealth. The constitution is their constitu- tion. They have made it for their own protection, and for his among the rest. They are not eager for his conviction. They are not thirsting for his blood. If he be condemned, without having his offences set forth, in the manner which they, by their constitution have prescribed ; and proved, in the manner, which they, by their laws have ordained, then, not only is he condemned unjustly, but the rights of the whole people disregarded. For the sake of the people themselves, therefore, I would resist all attempts to convict by straining the laws, or getting over their prohibitions. — I hold up be- fore him the broad shield of the constitution ; if through that he be pierced and fall, he will be but one sufferer, in a com- mon catastrophe. EXTRACT F1103I A DISCOURSE, DELIVERED BEFORE THE BENEVOLENT FRATERNITY OF CHURCHES IN BOSTON. BY WILLIAM E. CHANNING. TiiERE is no cultivation of the human being worthy of the name, but that which begins and ends with the Moral and Religious nature. No other teaching can make a Man- We arc striving, indeed, to develope the soul almost exclu- sively by intellectual stimulants and nutriment, by schools and colleges, by accomplishments and fine arts. We are hoping to form men and women by literature and science ; but all in vain. We shall learn in time, that moral and re- ligious culture is the foundation and strength of all true cultivation ; that we are deforming human nature by the means relied on for its growth, and that the poor, who receive a care which awakens their consciences and moral senti- ments, start under happier auspices than the prosperous who place supreme dependence on the education of the intellect and the taste. It is common to measure the cultivation of men by their knowledge ; and this is certainly an important element and means of improvement. But knowledge is various, difiering in diflerent men according to the objects which most engage their minds ; and by these objects its worth must be judged. It is not the extent, but the Itlnd of knowledge, which deter- mines the measure of cultivation. In truth, it is fooUsh to 320 chanking's discourse on the talk of any knowledge as extensive. The most eminent phi- losopher is of yesterday, and knows nothing. Newton felt that ho had gathered but a few pebbles on the shores of a boundless ocean. The moment we attempt to penetrate a subject, we learn that it has unfathomable depths. The known, is a sign of the infinite unknov.n. Every discovery conducts us to an abyss of darkness. In every thing from a grain of sand to the stars, the Avisa man finds mysteries, before which his knowledjxe shrinks into nothingness. It is the kind, not the extent of knowledge, by which the advance- ment of a human being must bo measured ; and that kind v>hich alone exalts a man, is placed within the reach of all. Moral and Religious Truth, this is the treasure of the intel- lect, and all are poor without it. Tliis transcends physical truth, as far as mind transcends matter, or as heaven is lift- ed above earth. Indeed physical science parts with its chief dignity, when separated from morals ; when it is not used to shadow forth, confirm and illustrate spiritual truth. The true cultivation of a human being, consists in the developement of great moral ideas ; that is, the Ideas of God, of Duty, of Right, of Justice, of Love, of SelfrSacrifice, of Moral Perfection, as manifested in Christ, of Happiness, of Immortality, of Heaven. The elements or germs of these Ideas, belong to every soul, constitute its essence, and are intended for endless expansion. These are the chief distinc- tions of our nature ; "they constitute our humanity. To unfold these, is the great work of our being. The Light in which these Ideas rise on the mind, the Love which they awaken, and the Force of Will, with which they are brought to sway the outward and inward life, here, and here only, are the measures of human cultivation. These views show us, that the highest culture is within the reach of the poor. It is not knowledge poured on us from abroad, but the developement of the elementary princi- pies of the soul itself, which constitutes the true growth of a human being. Undoubtedly, knowledge from abroad is es- MIMSTRY FOR THE I'OOK. 331 sentiul to the awakening these principles. But that, which conduces most to this end, is offered aUke to rich and poor. Society and Experience, Nature and Revelation, our chief moral and religious teachers, and the great quickeners of the soul, do not open their schools to a few favorites — do not initiate a small caste into their mysteries, but are ordained by tjod to be lights and blessings to all. The highest culture, I repeat it, is in reach of the poor, and is sometimes attained by them. Without science, they are often w^iser than the pliilosopher. The astronomer dis- dains them, but they look above his stars. The geologist disdains them, but they look deeper than the earth's centre ; they penetrate their own souls, and find there mightier, diviner elements than upheaved continents attest. In other words, the great ideas, of which I have spoken may be, and often are, unfolded more in the poor man, than amongst tho learned or renowned ; and in this case the poor man is the most cultivated. For example, take the Idea of Justice. Suppose a man, eminent for acquisitions of knowledge, but in whom this idea is but faintly developed. By justice he un- derstands little more than respect for the rights of property. That it means respect for all the rights, and especially for tho moral claims, of every human being, of the lowest as well as most exalted, has perhaps never entered his mind, much less been expanded and invigorated into a broad living convic- tion. Take now the case of a poor man, to whom, under Christ's teaching, the idea of the Just has become real, clear, bright, and strong ; who recognises, to its full extent, the right of property, though it operates against himself; but who does not stop here ; who comprehends the higher rights of men as rational and moral beings, their right to exercise and unfuld all their powers, their right to the means of im- provement, their right to search for truth and to utter their honest convictions, their right to consult first the monitor in their own breasts and to follow wherever it leads, their right to be esteemed and honored according to their moral 322 ciiajS->-i>-g's discourse on the cfForls, their right, when injured, to sympathy and succor against every oppressor. Suppose, I say, the poor man to rise to the comprehension of this enlarged justice, to revere it, to enthrone it over his actions, to render to every human being, friend or foe, near or far off, whatever is his due, to abstain conscientiously, not only from injurious deeds, but from injurious thoughts, judgments, feelings, and words. Is he not a more cultivated man, and has he not a deeper found- ation and surer promise of ti'uth, than the student, who, with much outward knowledge, does not comprehend men's high- est rights, whose scientific labors are perhaps degraded by injustice towards his rivals, who, had he power, would fetter every intellect, which threatens to outstrip his own ? The great idea, on which human cultivation especially depends, is that of God. This is the concentration of all that is beautiful, glurious, hoh-, blessed. It transcends im- measurably in worth and dignity all the science treasured up in Cyclopedias or libraries ; and this may be unfolded in the poor as truly as in the rich. It is not an idea to be elaborated by studies, which can be pursued only in leisure or by opulence. Its elements belong to every soul, and are especially to be found in our moral nature, in the idea of duty, in the feeling of reverence, in the approving sentence which we pass on virtue, in our disinterested affections, and in the wants and aspirations which carry us towards the Infinite. There is but one Avay of unfolding these germs of the idea of God, and that is, faithfulness to the best convicticJns of duty and of the Divine Will, which we have hitherto gained. God is to be known by obedience, by likeness, by sympathy, that is, by moral means, which are open alike to rich and poor. Many a man of science has not known him. The pride of science, lilce a thick cloud, has hidden from the phi- losopher the Spiritual Sun, the only true light, and for want of this quickening ray, he has fallen in culture far, very far, below the poor. These remarks have been drawn from me by the prone- MINISTRY FOR THE POOR. 323 nessof our times to place human culture in physical knowl- edge, and especially in degrees of it denied to the mass of the people. To this know ledge I would on no account deny great value. In its place, it is an important means of hu- man improvement. I look with admiration on the intel- lectual force, which combines and masters scattered facts, and by analysis and comparison ascends to the general laws of the material universe. But the philosopher, who does not see in the force within him something nobler than the Dutward nature which he analyzes, who, in tracing mechan- ical and chemical agencies, is unconscious of a higher ac- tion in his own soul, who is not led by all finite powers to the Omnipotent, and who does not catch, in the order and beauty of the universe, some glimpses of Spiritual Per- fection, stops at the very threshhold of the temple of truth. Miserably narrow is the culture, which confines the soul to Matter, which turns it to the Outward, as to something no- bier than itself. I fear, the spirit of science, at the present day, is too often a degradation, rather than the culture of the soul. It is the bowing down of the heaven-born spirit before unthinking mechanism. It seeks knowledge, rather for animal, transitory purposes, than for the nutriment of the imperishable inward life ; and yet the worshippers of science pity or contemn the poor, because denied this means of cultivation. Unhappy poor ! shut out from libraries, labo- ratories, and learned institutes ! In view of this world's wis- dom, it avails you nothing, that your own nature, manifested in your own and other souls, that God's word and works that the ocean, earth and sky are laid open to you ; that you may acquaint yourselves with the Divine Perfections, with the character of Christ, with the duties of life, with the virtues, the generous sacrifices, and the beautiful and holy emotions, which are a revelation and pledge of Heaven. All these are nothing, do not lift you to the rank of cultivated men, be- cause the mysteries of the telescope and micriscope, of the air- pump and crucible, are not revealed to you ! I would they 324 channing's discourse. were revealed to you. I believe the time is corning when Christian benevolence will delight in spreading all truth, and all refinements, through all ranks of society. But mean- while be not discouraged. One ray of moral and religious truth is worth all the wisdom of the schools. One lesson from Christ will carry you higher, than years of study under those, who are too enlightened to follow this celestial guide. My hearers, do not contemn the poor man for his igno- rance. Has he seen the Right ? Has he felt the binding force of the Everlasting Moral Law ? Has the beauty of vir- tue, in any of its forms, been revealed to him ? Then he has entered the highest school of wisdom. Then a light has dawn- ed within him, worth all the physical knowledge of all worlds. It almost moves me to indignation, when I hear the student exalting his science, which at every step meets impenetra- ble darkness, above the idea of Duty, and above veneration for goodness and God. It is true, and ought to be under- stood, that outward nature, however tortured, probed, dissect- ed, never reveals truths so sublime or precious, as are wrapt up in the consciousness of the meanest individual, and laid open to every eye in the word of Christ. SPEECH OF MINAVAVANA, CHIEF OF THE CHIPPEWA INDIANS, TO AN ENGLISH TRAVELLER. Englishman ! — It is to you that I speak, and I demand your attention ! Englishman ' — You know that the French Kins; is our father. He promised to be such ; and we, in return, prom- ised to be his children. This promise we have kept. Englishman ! — It is you that have made war with this our father. You are his enemy ; and how then could you havo the boldness to venture among us, his children ? You know that his enemies are ours. Englishman ! — We are informed that our father, the king of France, is old and infirm ; and that being fatigued with making war upon your nation, he is fallen asleep. During his sleep, you have taken advantage of him, and possessed yourselves of Canada. But his nap is almost at an end. I think I hear him already stirring, and inquiring for his chil- dren the Indians; — and, when he does awake, what must be- come of you ? He will destroy you utterly ! Englishman ] — xVlthough you have conquered the French, you have not yet conquered us ! We are not your slaves. These lakes, these woods and mountains, were left to us by our ancestors. They are our inheritance, and we will part with them to none. Your nation supposes that we, like the white people, cannot live without bread, and pork, and beef ! But, you ought to know, that He, — the Great Spirit and 28 326 MINAVAVANA S SPEECH. Master of Life, — ^has provided food for us, in these broad lakes, and upon these mountains. Englishman ! — Our father, the king of France, employed our young men to make war upon your nation. In this warfare, many of them have been killed ; and it is our cus- tom to retaliate, until such time as the spirits of the slain are satisfied. Now the spirits of the slain are to be satisfied in either of two ways. The first is by the spilling of the blood of the nation by which they fell ; the other, by cover- ing the bodies of the dead, and thus allaying the resentment of their relations. This is done by making presents. Englishman ! — Your king has never sent us any presents, nor entered into any treaty with us. Wherefore he and we are still at war ; and until he does these things, we must consider that we have no other father, nor friend, among the white men, than the king of France. But, for you, we have taken into consideration, that you have ventured your life among us, in the expectation that we should not molest you. You do not come armed, with an intention to make war. You come in peace, to trade with us, and supply us with necessaries, of which we are much in want. We shall regard you, therefore, as a brother ; and you may sleep tran- quilly, without fear of the Chippewas. As a token of our friendship, we present you with this pipe, to smoke. /f' EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, DELIVERED AT A TEMPERANCE MEETING. BY EDWARD EVERETT. WuEN we contemplate intemperance in all its boaringa and efit'cts on the condition and character of men, I believe we shall come to the conclusion, that it is the greatest evil which, as beings of a compound nature, we have to fear : the greatest, because striking directly at tlie ultimate principle of the Constitution. Lot us contemplate this point a moment, for within it is comprehended, if I mistake not, the whole philosophy of this subject. Our life exists in a mysterious union of the corporeal and intellectual principles, an alliance of singular intimacy, as well as of strange contrast, between the two extremes of being. In their due relation to each other, and in the rightful discharge of their respective func- tions, I do not know whether the pure etherial essence itself, (at least as far as we can comprehend it, which is but faint- ly,) ought more to excite our admiration than this most wonderous compound of spirit and matter. I do not know that it is extravagant to say, tliat there is as signal a dis- play of the Divine skill in linking those intellectual powers^ which are the best image of the Divinity, with the forms and properties of matter, as in the creation of orders of beings purely disembodied and spiritual. When I contrast the dull and senseless clod of the valley, in its unanimated state, with the curious hand, the glowing cheek, the beam, ing eye, the discriminating sense, which dwells in a thou, sand nerves, I feel the force of that inspired exclan^ation, S28 kverett's sfkech at *'I am fearfully and wonderfully made." And when I con- sider the action and reaction of soul and body on each other, the impulse given to volition from the senses ; and again to the organs by the will ; when I think how thoughts, — so ex- alted, that, though they comprehend all else, they cannot comprehend the laws of their own existence, — are yet able to take a shape in the material air, to issue and travel from one sense in one man to another sense in another man ; — so that, as the words drop from my lips, the secret chambers of the soul are thrown open, and its invisible ideas made manifest, — I am lost in wonder. If to this I add the reflec- tion, how the world and its affairs are governed, the face of nature changed, oceans crossed, continents settled, families of men gathered and kept together for generations, and mon- uments of power, wisdom, and taste erected, which last for ages after the hands that reared them have turned to dust, — and all this by the regency of that fine intellectual prin- ciple, which sets modestly concealed behind its veil of clay, and moves its subject organs, I find no words to express my admiration of that union of mind and matter, by which these miracles are wrought. Who can thus contemplate the won- der, the beauty, the vast utility, the benevolence, the indis- cribable fitness, of this organization, and not feel that this vice of intemperance, which aims directly to destroy it, is the arch-abomination of our natures ; tending not merely to create a conflict between the nicely adjusted principles ; but to assure the triumph of that which is low, base, sensual and earthly over the heavenly and pure ; to convert this so cu- riously organized frame into a disordered crazy machine, and to drag down the soul to the slavery of groveling lusts ? In the first place, there is the shameful abuse of tho bounties of Providence, which, after making the substantial provision for the supply of our daily wants, — after spread- ing out the earth, with its vegetable stores, as a great table for our nutriment, and appointing the inferior animals for our solid food, was pleased, — as it would seem of mere A TEMPERANCE MEETIXG. 329 grace and favor, — to ackl unniunbered cordial spirits to gratify and cheer us, — sweet waters and lively spices, — to fill the fibres of the cane with its luscious syrups, the clus- ters of the vine witii its cooling juices, and a hundred aromatic leaves, berries and fruits, with their refreshing and reviving essences ; — and even to infuse into the poppy an anodyne against the sharpest pains our trail Hcsh is heir to ; — I say it is the first aggravation of the sin of intetupcrance, that it seizes on all these kind and boun- tiful provisions, turns them into a source not of comfort and health, but of excess, — indecently revelling at the modest banquet of nature, shamefully surfeiting at the sober table of Providence, and converting every thing that has a Ufe and power, alike the exhilirating and the soothing, the stimulant and the opiate, into one accursed poison. Next comes the ravages of this all-destroying vice on the health of its victims. You see them resolved, as it were, to anticipate the corruption of their natures. They cannot wait to get sick and die. They think the worm is slow in his approach, and sluggish at his work. They wish to re- convert the dust before their hour comes, to its primitive deformity and pollution. My friend who spoke before me, (Dr. Pierson,) called it a partial death. I would rather call it a double death, by which they drag about with them, above the grave, a mass of diseased, decaying, aching clay. They will not only commit suicide, but do it in such a way as to be the witnesses and conscious victims of the cruel process of self-murder ; doing it by degrees, by inches ; quenching the sight, benumbing the brain, laying down the arm of industry to be cut otf; and changing a fair, healthy, robust frame, for a shrinking, sufl'ering, hving corpse, witli notliing of vitality but the power of suffering, and with every thing of death but its peace. Then follows the wreck of property, — the great object of human pursuit ; the temporal ruin, which comes, Uke an 28* 330 Everett's speech At avenging angel, to waste the substance of the intemperate { which crosses their threshold commissioned, as it were, to plague them with all the horrors of a ruined fortune and blasted prospect ; and passes before their astonished sight, in the dread array of affairs perplexed, debts accumulated^ substance squandered, honor tainted, — wife, children, cast out upon the mercy of the world, — and he, who should have been their guardian and protector, dependent for his unearned daily bread, on those to whom he is a burden and a curse. Bad as all this is, much as it is, it is neither the greatest nor the worst part of the aggravations of the crime of in- temperance. It produces consequences of still more awful moment. It first exasperates the passions, and then takes off from them the restraints of the reason and will ; maddens and then unchains the tiger, ravening for blood ; tramples all the intellectual and moral man under the feet of the stim- ulated clay ; lays the understanding, the kind affections, and the conscience, in the same grave with prosperity and health ; and, having killed the body, kills the soul ! Such, faintly described, is the vice of intemperance. Such it still exists in our land ; checked, and, as we hope^ declining, but still prevailing to a degree which invites all our zeal for its effectual suppression. Such as I have de- scribed it, exists, I fear, in every city, in every town, in every village in our country. Such and so formidable is its power. But I rejoice in the belief, that an antagonist principle of equal power has been brought into the field. Public opinion, in all its strength, is enlisted against it.- Men, that agree in nothing else, unite in this. Rehgious divisions are healed, and party feuds forgotten, in this good 6ause. Individuals and societies, private citizens and the government, have joined, in waging war against intemper- ance ; and above all, the Press, — the great engine of re- form, — is thundering with all its artillery against it. It is a moment of great interest ; and also of considerable delicacy <» A TEMPERANCE MEETING, 331 That period in a moral reform, in which a great evil, that has long passed comparatively unquestioned, is overtaken bra sudden bound of Public Opinion, is somewhat critical. Individuals, as honest as their neighbors, are surprised in pursuits and practices, sanctioned by the former standard of moral sentiment, but below the mark of the reform. Ten- derness and delicacy arc necessary, to prevent such persons, by mistaken pride of character, from being made enemies of the cause. In our denunciations of the evil, we must take care not to include those, whom a little prudence might bring into cordial co-operation with us in its suppression. Let us, sir, mingle discretion with our zeal ; and the greater will be our success in this pure and noble cause. EXTRACT FROM A PROCLAMATION, AFTER THE PASSING OP AN ORDINANCE BY THE SOUTH CAROLINA CONVENTION. BY ANDREW JACKSON. This, then, is the position in which we stand. A small ma- jority of the citizens of one State in the Union have elected Delegates to a State Convention : that Convention has or- dained that all the revenue laws of the United States must be repealed, or that they are no longer a member of the Union. The Governor of that State has recommended to the legislature the raising of an army to carry the secession into etfect, and that he may be empowered to give clearances to vessels in the name of the State. No act of violent opposition to the laws has yet been committed, but such a state of things ia hourly apprehended, and it is the intent of this instrument to PROCLAIM not only that the duty imposed on me by the constitution " to take care that the laws be faithfully exe- cuted," shall be performed to the extent of the powers already vested in me by law, or of such others as the wisdom of congress shall devise and entrust to me for that purpose ; but to warn the citizens of South Carolina, who have been deluded into an opposition to the laws, of the danger they will incur by obedience to the illegal and disorganizing Ordinance of the Convention, — to exhort those who have refused to support it to persevere in their determination to uphold the consti- tution and laws of their country, and to point out to all the perilous situation into which the good people of that State have been led, — and that the course they are urged to pur- JACKSO^'a PROCLAMATIOX. . 333 sue is one of ruin and disgrace to the very State whose righta they affect to support. Fellow-citizens of my native State ! — let me not only ad- monish you, as the first Magistrate of our common country, not to incur the penalty of its laws, but to use the influence that a father would over his children whom he saw rushincr to certain ruin. In that paternal language, with tliat pater- nal feeling, let me tell you, my countrymen, that you are deluded by men who are cither deceived themselves, or wish to deceive you. Mark under what pretences you have been led on to the brink of insurrection and treason, on which you stand ! First a diminution of the value of your staple commodity, lowered by over production in other quarters, and the consequent diminution in the value of your lands, were the sole effect of the tariff laws. The effect of those laws are confessedly injurious, but tho evil was greatly exag- gerated by the unfounded theory you were taught to believe, that its burthens were in proportion to your exports, not to your consumption of imported articles. Your pride was roused by tho assertion that a submission to those laws was a state of vassalage, and that resistance to them was equal, in patriotic merit, to tho opposition our fathers offered to the oppressive laws of Great-Britain. You were told that this opposition might be peaceably — might be constitutionally made — that you might enjoy all tho advantages of the Union and boar none of its burtlicns. Eloquent appeals to your passions, to your state pride, to your native courage, to your sense of real injury, were used to prepare you for the period when the mask which concealed tho hideous features of disunion' should be taken off. It fell, and you were made to look with complacency on objects which, not long since, you would have regarded with horror. Look back to the arts which have brought you to this state — look forward to tho consequences to which it must inevit. ably lead ! — Look back to what was first told you as an in. duccmcnt to enter into this danjierous course. The "reat 834 Jackson's proclamation, political truth was repeated to you, that you had the revolu- tionary right of resisting all laws that were palpably uncon- stitutional and intolerably oppressive — it was added that the right to nullify a law rested on the same principle, but that it was a peaceable remedy ! This character which was given to it, made you receive with too much confidence, the assertions that were made of the unconstitutionality of the law, and its oppressive effects. Mark, my fellow-citizens, that, by the admission of your leaders, the unconstitutionality must be palpable, or it will not justify either resistance or nullification ! What is the meaning of the word palpable, in the sense in which it is here used ? that which is apparent to every one ; that which no man of ordinary intellect will fail to perceive. Is the unconstitutionality of these laws of that description ? Let those among your leaders who once approved and advocated the principle of protective duties, answer the question ; and let them choose whether they will be considered as incapable, then, of perceiving that which must have been apparent to every man of common under- standing, or as imposing upon your confidence, and endeav- oring to mislead you now. In either case, they are unsafe guides in the perilous path thoy urge you to tread. Ponder well on this circumstance, and you will know how to appre- ciate the exaggerated language they address to you. They are not champions of liberty, emulating the fame of our Revolutionary Fathers ; nor are you an oppressed people contending, as they repeat to you, against worse than colo- nial vassalage. You are free members of a flourishing and happy Union. There is no settled design to oppress you. You have indeed felt the unequal operation of laws which may have been unwisely, not unconstitutionally passed ; but that inequality must necessarily be removed. At the very moment when you were madly urged on to the unfortunate course you have begun, a change in public opinion had commenced. The nearly approaching payment of the pub- lic debt, and the consequent necessity of a diminution of ON XULUFICATIOjr. 335 duties, had already produced a considerable reduction, and that too on some articles of general consumption in your State. The importance of this change was understood, and you were authoritatively told, that no further alleviation of your burthens was to be expected, at the very time when the condition of the country imperiously demanded such a modification of the duties as should reduce them to a just and equitable scale. But, as if appprehensive of the effect of this change in allaying your discontents, you were pre- cipitated into the fearful state in which you now find your- selves. 1 have urged you to look back to the means that were used to hurry you on to the position you have now assumed, and forward to the consequences it will produce. Something more is necessary. Contemplate the condition of that coun- try of which you still form an important part ? Consider its government, uniting in one bond of common interest and general protection so many different States, giving to afl their inhabitants the proud title of American Citizens, protecting their commerce, securing their literature and their arts, facilitating their intcr-commuiiication, defending their frontiers, and making their name respected in the remotest parts of the earth ! Consider the extent of its territory, its increasing and happy population, its advance in arts which render life agreeable and the sciences which elevate the mind ! See education spreading the lights of re- ligion, humanity, and general information into every cottage in this wide extent of our Territories and States ! Behold it as the asylum where the wretched and the oppressed find a refuge and support ! Look on this picture of happiness and honor, and say — we, too, are citizens of America : Carolina is one of these proud States : her arms have de- fended, her best blood has cemented this happy Union ! And then add, if you can, without liorror and remorse, this happy Union we w ill dissolve — this picture of peace and prosperity we will deface — this free intercourse we will interrupt — 336 Jackson's proclamation, these fertile fields we will deluge with blood — the protection of that glorious flag we renounce — the very names of Ameri- cans we discard. And for what, mistaken men ! — for what do you throw away these inestimable blessings, for what would you exchange your share in the advantages and honor of the Union ? For the dream of a separate independence — a dream interrupted by bloody conflicts with your neighbors, and a vile dependence on a foreign power. If your leaders could succed in establishing a separation, what would be your situation ? Are you united at home — are you free from the apprehension of civil discord, with all its fearful consequences ? Do our neighboring republics, every day suffering some new revolution, or contending with some new insurrection — do they excite your envy ? But the dictates of a high duty oblige me solemnly to announce that you can- not succeed. The laws of the United States must be executed. I have no discretionary power on the subject — my duty is emphat- ically pronounced in the Constitution. Those who told you that you might peaceably prevent their execution, deceived you — they could not have been deceived themselves. They know that a forcible opposition could alone prevent the ex- ecution of the laws, and they know that such opposition must be repelled. Their object is disunion ; but be not de- ceived by names ; disunion by armed force, is treason. Are you really ready to incur its guilt ? If you are, on the heads of the instigators of the act be the dreadful conse- quences — on their heads be the dishonor, but on yours may fall the punishment — on your unhappy state will inevitably fall all the evils of the conflict you force upon the Govern- ment of your country. It cannot accede to the mad project of disunion of which you would be the first victims — its first magistrate cannot, if he would, avoid the performance of his duty — the consequences must be fearful for you, distressing to your fellow-citizens here, and to the friends of good go- vernment throughout the world. Its enemies have beheld ON NULLIFICATION. 337 our prosperity with a vexation they could not conceal it- was a standing refutation of their slavish doctrines, and they will point to our discord with the triumph of malignant joy. It is yet in your power to disappoint them. There is yet time to show that the descendants of the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Rutledges ; and of the thousand other names which adorn the pages of your revolutionary history, will not abandon that union to support which, so many of them fought, and bled, and died, I adjure you as you honor their memory — as you love the cause of freedom, to which they dedicated their lives — as you prize the peace of your coun- try, the lives of its best citizens, and your own fair fame, to retrace your steps. Snatch from the archives of your State the disorganizing edict of its Convention — bid its members to re-assemble and promulgate the decided expres- sions of your will to remain in the path which alone can conduct you to safety, prosperity, and honor — tell them that compared to disunion, all other evils are light, because that brings with it an accumulation of all — declare that you will never take the field unless the star-spangled banner of your country shall float over you — that you will not be stigma- tized when dead, and dishonored and scorned while you live , as the authors of the first attack on the Constitution of your country ! — Its destroyers you cannot be. You may disturb its peace — you may interrupt the course of its prosperity — you may cloud its reputation for stability — but its tranquil- ity will be restored, its prosperity will return, and the stain upon its national character will be transferred, and remain an eternal blot on the memory of those who caused the dis- order. Fellow-citizens of the United States ! The threat of un- hallowed disunion — the names of those, once res|iected, by whom it is uttered — the array of military force to support it — denote the approach of a crisis in our affairs on which the continuance of our unexampled prosperity, our political existence, and perhaps that of all free governments may de« 29 338 Jackson's pkoclamatioit. pend. The conjunction demanded a free, a full, and explicit enunciation not only of my intentions but of my principles of action ; and as the claim was asserted of a right by a State to annul the laws of the Union and even to secede from it at pleasure, a frank exposition of my opinions in re- lation to the origin and form of our government, and the construction I give to the instrument by which it was created, seemed to be proper. Having the fullest confidence in the justness of the legal and constitutional opinion of my duties which has been expressed, I rely with equal confidence on your undivided support in my determination to execute the laws — to preserve the Union by all constitutional means • — to arrest, if possible, by moderate but firm measures, the necessity of a recourse to force ; and, if it be the will of Heaven that the recurrence of its primeval curse (m man for the shedding of a brother's blood should fall upon our land, that it be not called down by any offensive act on the part of the United States. Fellow-citizens ! The momentous case is before you. On your undivided support of your government depends the de- cision of the great question it involves, whether your sacred Union will be preserved, and the blessings it secures to us as one People shall be perpetuated. No one can doubt that the unanimity with which that decision will be expressed, will be such as to inspire new confidence in republican in- stitutions, and that the prudence, the wisdom, and the cour- age with which it will bring to their defence, will transmit them unimpaired and invigorated to our children. May the Great Ruler of Nations grant that the signal blessings with which he has favored ours, may not, by the madness of party or personal ambition, be disregarded and lost ; and may His wise Providence bring those who have produced this crisis, to see the folly before they feel the misery of civil strife : and inspire a returning veneration for that Union which, if we may dare to penetrate His de- sio-ns, he has chosen as the only means of attaining the high destinies to which we may reasonably aspire. EXTRACT FR03I A SPEECH, ON THE PANAMA MISSION. BY MARTIN VAN BUREN. BiTT I cannot consent to trespass longer upon the time of the Senate in pushing the discussion of this point further, although various considerations, operating against the niea- sure, press upon my mind. If it were proposed to form a connection with any European power, such as now design- ed with the Spanish American States, it is hoped and be- lieved, that the measure would not meet with one approv- ing voice — shall I sny — on this floor? No, not inthecoun- try. But it has been supposed that the United States ought to pursue a different policy with respect to the states in this hemisphere. It is true, Mr. Monroe, in his message, makes a distinction of this character, although he by no means car- ries it to the extent proposed. If he did, all that the dis- tinction could derive from that circumstance, would be, the weight of his opinion, always considerable, but never deci- sive. The question still recurs, is the distinction founded in principle and policy ? If it be, it must arise from one of two reasons : either the character of the governments of the Spanish American states, or their local situation; or, per- haps, from both. The United States have hailed the eman- cipation of those states with satisfaction; they have our best wishes for the perpetuity of their freedom. So far as we could go to aid them in the establishment of their inde- pendence, without endangering the peace, or embarrassing the relation of our country, we have gone. More than that. 340 VAN buren's speech on ought not to be asked. Nor has it. Sensible of the embar- rassments which their invitation might produce, they de- clined to proffer it until advised that we desired to receive it. Next to being right, it is important to governments, as well as individuals, to be consistent. Has the character of these governments been the principle upon which we have hitherto acted in relation to those states ? It has not. Mexico and Brazil were the last to shake off their depend- ence on foreign authority. They were among the first whose independence we acknowledged. Mexico was, at the period of its acknowledgement, under the dominion of the Emperor Iturbide, and Brazil of its Emperor, Don Pedro. As a special compliment to the Emperor of Mexico, we sent, or rather intended to send, to his Court, one of the most dis- tinguished men of the nation, (Gen. Jackson.) At the court of the Emperor Don Pedro, we have our Minister ; whilst in the republic of Peru — the power with which the first of the trea- ties, in virtue of which the Congress of Panama is to be held, was concluded — we have not yet been represented. Do our principles admit that we should adopt the measures proposed with such reference, and upon such grounds ? What are those principles? That man is capable of self-government ; that the people of every country should bo left to the free selec tion of such form of government as they think best adapted to their situation, and to change it as their interests, in their own judgments, may seem to require. Wherein consists our objection to the Holy Alliance ? Because they confederate to maintain governments similar to their own, by force of arms, instead of the force of reason, and the will of the governed. If we, too, confederate to sustain, by the same means, governments similar to our own, wherein consists the difference, except the superiority of our cause ? What is their avowed motive ? Self-preservatioji and the peace of Europe. What would be ours ? Self-preservation and the yeace of America. I wish to be understood. I detest, as much as any man, the principles of the Holy Alliance. I" THE PANAMA MISSION. 841 yield to no man in my anxious wishes for the success of the Spanish American States. I will go as far as I think any American citizen ought to go, to secure to them the blessings of free government. I commend the solicitude which has beea manifested by our government upon this subject, and have, of course, no desire to discourage it. But I am against all alliances, against all armed confederacies, or confederacies of any sort. I care not how specious, or how disguised ; come in what shape thew may, I oppose them. The states in question have the power and the means, if united and true to their principles, to resist any force that Europe can send against them. It is only by being recreant to the principles upon which their revolution is founded ; by suffering foreign influence to distract and divide them ; that their independence can be endangered. But, happen what may, our course should be left to our choice, whenever occasion for acting shall occur. If, in the course of events, designs shall be manifested, or steps taken in this hemisphere by any foreign power, which so far affect our interest or our honor, as to make it necessary that we should arm in their defence, it will be done : there is no room to doubt it. The decision of that question may safely be left to those who come after us. That love of country, and of freedom, which now animates our public councils, is not confined to us, or likely to become extinct. We require neither alliance nor agreement to compel us to perform whatever our duty enjoins. Our national character is our best, and should be our only pledge. Meanwhile, let us bestow upon our neigh- bors, the young republics of the South, the moral aid of a good example. To make that example more salutary, let it exhibit our moderation in success, our firmness in adversity, our devotion to our country and its institutions, and above all, that sine qua non to the existence of our republican go- vernment — our fidelity to a written Constitution. 29* EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE PANAMA MISSION, BY DANIEL WEBSTER. Pains, sir, have been taken by the honorable member from Virginia, to prove that the measure now in contemplation, and, indeed, the whole policy of the government respecting South America, is the unhappy result of the influence of a gentleman formerly filling the chair of this House. To make out this, he has referred to certain speeches of that gentle- man delivered here. He charges him with having become himself affected at an early day with what he is pleased to call the South American fever ; and with having infused its baneful influence into the whole councils of the country. If, sir, it be true, that that gentleman, prompted by an ar- dent love of civil liberty, felt earlier than others, a proper sympathy for the struggling colonies of South America ; or that, acting on the maxim, that revolutions do not go back- vvardj he had the sagacity to foresee, earlier than others, the successful termination of those struggles ; if, thus feeling, and thus perceiving, it fell to him to lead the willing or un- willing councils of his country, in her manifestations of kind- ness to the new governments, and in her seasonable recog- nition of their independence ; if it be this which the hon- orable member imputes to him ; if it be by this course of public conduct that he has identified his name with the cause of South American liberty, he ought to be esteemed one of the most fortunate men of the age. If all this be, as is now Webster's speech. 343 represented, he has acquired fame enough. It is enough for any man, thus to have connected himself with the great- est events of the age in which he Uves, and to have been foremost in measures which reflect high honor on his country, in the judgment of mankind. Sir, it is always with great reluctance that I am drawn to speak, in my place here, of individuals ; but I could not forbear what I have now said, when I hear, in the House of Representatives, and in this land of free spirits, that it is made matter of imputation and of reproach, to have been first to reach forth the hand of welcome and of succor to new-born nations, struggling to obtain, and to enjoy, the blessings of liberty. We are told that the country is deluded and deceived by cabalistic words. Cabalistic words ! If we express an emo- tion of pleasure at the results of this great action of the spirit of political liberty ; if Ave rejoice at the birth of new Republican nations, and express our joy by the common terms of i-egard and sympathy ; if we feel and signify high gratification that, throughout this whole continent, men are now likely to be blessed by free and popular institutions ; and if, in the uttering of these sentiments, we happen to speak of sister Republics ; of the great American family of nations ; or of the political system and forms of government of this hemisphere, then indeed, it seems, we deal in sense- less jargon, or impose on the judgment and feeling of tho community by cabalistic words ! Sir, what is meant by this ? Is it intended that the People of the United States ought to be totally indifferent to the fortunes of these new neighbors? Is no change, in the lights in which we are to view them, to be wrought, by their having thrown off foreign dominion, established independence, and instituted, on our very borders, republican governments, essentially after our own example ? Sir, I do not wish to overrate, I do not overrate, the prog- ress of these new States in the great work of establishing a well-secured popular liberty. I know that to be a great at- tainment, and I know they are but pupils in the school. But, 344 wbbstkr's speech on thank God, they are in the school. They are called to meet difficulties, such as neither we nor our fathers encountered. For these, we ought to make large allowances. What have we ever known like the colonial vassalage of these States ? When did we or our ancestors, feci, like them, the weight of a political despotism that presses men to the earth, or of that religious iutolerance which would shut up heaven to all but the bigoted ? Sir, we sprung from another stock. We be- long to another race. We have known nothing — we have felt nothing of the political despotism of Spain, nor of the heat of her fires of intolerance. No rational man expects that the South can run the same rapid career as the North ; or that an insurgent province of Spain is in the same condi- tion as the English colonies, when they first asserted their independence. There is, doubtless, much more to be done, in the first than in the last case. But on that account the honor of the attempt is not less ; and if all difficulties shall be in time surmounted, it will be greater. The work may be more arduous — it is not less noble, because there may be more of ignorance to enlighten ; more of bigotry to subdue ; more of prejudice to eradicate. If it be a weakness to feel a strong interest in the success of these great revolutions, I confess myself guilty of that weakness. If it be weak to feel that I am an American, to think that recent events have not only opened new modes of intercourse, but have created also new grounds of regard and sympathy between ourselves and our neigbors ; if it be weak to feel that the South, in her present state, is somewhat more emphatically a part of America, than when she lay obscure, oppressed, and unknown, under the grinding bondage of a foreign power; if it bo weak, to rejoice, when, even in any corner of the earth, hu- man bcintrs are able to get up from beneath oppression, to erect themselves, and to enjoy the proper happiness of their intellisent nature ; if this be weak, it is a weakness from which I claim no exemption. A day of solemn retribution now visits the once proud THE PANAMA MISSION. 845 monarchy of Spain. The prediction is fulfilled, The spirit of Montezuma and of the Incas might now well say, " Art thou, too, fallen, Iberia ? Do we see The robber and the murderer weak as we 1 Thou : that has wasted earth and dared despise Alike the wrath and mercy of the skies, Thy pomp is m the grave; thy glory laid Low in the pit thine avarice has made." Mr. Chairman : I will detain you only with one more re- flection on this subject. We cannot be so blind — we can- not so shut up our senses, and smother our faculties, as not to see, that in the progress and the establishment of South American Uberty, our own example has been among the most stimulating causes. In their emergencies, they have looked to our experience ; in their political institutions, they have followed our models ; in their deliberations, they have invoked the presiding spirit of our own liberty. They have looked steadily, in every adversity, to the great northern LIGHT. In the hour of bloody conflict, they have remembered the fields which have been consecrated by the blood of our own fathers ; and when they have fallen, they have wished only to be remembered with them, as men who had acted their parts bravely, for the cause of liberty in the Western World. Sir, I have done. If it be weakness to feel the sympathy of one's nature excited for such men, in such a cause, I am guilty of that weakness. If it be prudent to meet their prof, fered civility, not with reciprocal kindness, but v.ith coldness or insult, I choose still to follow where natural impulse leads, and to give up that false and mistaken prudence, for tho voluntary sentiments of my heart. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE BILL PROPOSING TO ADD TWENTY THOUSAND MEN TO THE MILITARY ESTABLISHMENT, IN I8I5. BY JOSIAH QUINCY. As from the uniform tenor of the conduct of the Ameri- can cabinet in relation to the British government, I have no behef, that their intention has been to make a sohd arranne- ment with that nation, so, from the evidence of their dispo- sition and intention, existing abroad, and on the table, I have no belief that such is at present their purpose. I can- not possibly think otherwise, than that such is not their intention. Let us take the case in common life. I have demands, Mr. Speaker, against you, very just in their na- ture, but different. Some of recent ; others of very old date. The former depending upon principles very clearly in my favor. The latter critical, difficult and dubious, both in principle and settlement. In this state of things and du- ring your absence, I watch my opportunity, declare enmity, throw myself upon your children, and servants, and property, which happen to be in my neighborhood, and do them all the injury I can. While I am doing this, I receive a messen- ger from you stating that the grounds of the recent injury are settled ; that you comply fully with my terms. Your servants and children, whom I am plundering and killing, invite me to stay my hand until you return, or until some accommodation can take place between us. But, deaf to any such suggestions, I prosecute my intention of injury to atJINCY S SPEECH. 347 the utmost. When there is reason to expect your return, I multiply my means of injury and offence. And no sooner do I hear of your arrival, than I thrust my fist in your face, and say to you, " well, sir, here are fair propositions of settlement. Come to my terms, which are very just. Set- tle the old demand in my way, and we will be as good friends as ever." Mr. Speaker, what would be your conduct on such an occasion? Would you be apt to look as much at the nature of the propositions, as at the temper of the assail- ant ? If you did not at once, return blow for blow, and injury for injury, would you not, at least, take a little time to consider ? Would you not tell such an assailant, that you were not to be bullied, nor beaten into any concession ? If you settled at all, might you not consider it your duty, in some way to make him feel the consequences of his strange intemperance of passion ? For myself, I have no question how a man of spirit ought to act under such circumstances. I have as little how a great nation, like Great Britain, will act. Now, I have no doubt, sir, that the American cabinet view this subject in the same light. They understand well, that by the declaration of war, the invasion of Canada, the the refusal of an armistice, and perseverance in hostilities, after the principal ground of war had been removed, they have wrought the minds of the British cabinet and people to a very high state of irritation. Now is the very moment to get up some grand scheme of pacification ; such as may persuade the American people of the inveterate love of our cabinet for peace, and make them acquiescent in their per- severance in hostilities. Accordingly, before the end of the session, a great tub will be thrown out to the whale. Probably a little while before the spring elections, terms of very fair import will be proffered to Great Britain ; such as, perhaps, six months ago our cabinet would not have granted, had she solicited them on her knees ; such as, probably, in the opinion of the people of this country, Great Britain ought to accept ; such, perhaps, as in any other state of things, she 348 auiNcv's speech on would have accepted ; but such, as I fear, under the irrita- tion, produced by the strange course pursued by the Ameri* can cabinet, that nation will not accept. Sir, I do not believe, that our cabinet expect, that they will be accepted. They think the present state of induced passion is sufficient to prevent arrangement. But, to make assurance doubly sure, to take a bond of fate, that arrangement shall not hap« pen, they prepare this bill — a bill, which proposes an aug. mentation of the army for the express purpose of conquering the Canadas — a bill, which, connected with the recent dis- position evinced by our cabinet in relation to those provin- ces, and with the avowed intent of making their subjugation the means of peace through the fear to be inspired into Great Britian, is r.s offensive to the pride of that nation, as can well be imagined ; and is, in my apprehension, as sure a guarantee of continued war as could be given. On these grounds, my mind cannot force itself to any other conclu- sion than this, that the avowed object of this bill is the true one ; that the Canadas are to be invaded the next season ; that the war is to be protracted ; and that this is the real policy of the American cabinet. I will now reply to those invitations to "union," which have been so obtrusively urged upon us. If, by this call to union, is meant an union in a project for the invasion of Canada, or for the invasion of East Florida, or for the con- quest of any foreign country whatever, cither as a means of carrying on this war, or for any other purpose, I answer distinctly;—! will unite with no man, nor any body of men, for any such purposes. I think such projects criminal in the highest degree, and ruinous to the prosperity of these states. But, if by this invitation is meant union in prepa- ration for defence, strictly so called ; union in fortifying our sea-board ; union in putting our cities in a state of safety ; union in raising such a military force as shall be sufficient, with the local militia, in the hands of the constitutional leaders, the executives of the states, to give a rational degree TUB !SIE\V ARMY BILL. 349 «f security against any invasion, sufficient to defend our frontiers, sufficient to awe into silence the Indian tribes within our territories ; union in creating such a maritime force, as shall command the seas on the Ame- rican coasts, and keep open the intercourse, at least be- tween the states; — if this is meant, I have no hesitation; union on such principles, you shall have from me, cor- dially and faithfully— and this too, sir, without any refer- ence to the state of my opinion in relation to the justice, or the necessity of this war. Because, I well understand such to be the condition of man in a social compact, that he must partake of the fate of the society to which he belongs, and must submit to the privations and sacrifices its defence requires, notwithstanding these may be the result of the vices, or crimes of its immediate rulers. But there is a great difference between supporting such rulers in plans of necessary self-defence, on which the safety of our altars, and firesides, essentially depends, and supporting them in projects of foreign invasion, and encouraging them in schemes of conquest and ambition which are not only unjust in themselves, but dreadful in their consequences ; inasmuch as, let the particular project result as it may, the general effect must be, according to human view, destructive to our own domestic liberties and constitution. I speak as an in- dividual. Sir, for my single self, did I support such projects, as are avowed to be the objects of this bill, I should deem myself a traitor to my country. Were I even to aid them, by loan, or any other way, I should consider myself a par- taker in the guilt of the purpose. But, when these projects of invasion shall be abandoned ; when men yield up schemes, which, not only openly contemplate the raising of a great military force, but also the concentrating them at one point, and placing them in one hand ; schemes obviously ruinoua to the fates of a free republic, as they comprehend the means> by which such have ever, heretofore, been destroyed ;— when, I say, such schemes shall be abandoned, and the wishes 30 350 quincy's speech on of the cabinet limited to mere defence, and frontier and maritime protection, there will be no need of calls to union. For such objects there is not, there cannot be, but one heart and soul in this people. I know, Mr. Speaker, that while I utter these things, a thousand tongues, and a thousand pens, are preparing, with- out doors, to overwhelm me, if possible, by their pestiferous gall. Already I hear, in the air, the sound of—" traitor" — " British agent" — " British gold" — and all those changes of vulgar calumny, by which the imaginations of the mass of men are affected ; and by which they are prevented from listening to what is true, and receiving what is reasonable. Mr. Speaker, it well becomes any man, standing in the presence of such a nation as this, to speak of himself seldom ; and such a man as I am, it becomes to speak of himself, not at all ; except, indeed, when the relations in which he stands to his country, are little known, and when the assertion of those relations has some connexion, and may have some influence on interests, which it is peculiarly incumbent upon him to support. Under this sanction, I say, it is not for a man, whose ancestors have been planted in this country, now, for almost two centuries ; it is not for a man, who has a family, and friends, and character, and children, and a deep stake in the soil ; it is not for a man, who is self-con- scious of being rooted in that soil as deeply and exclusively, as the oak which shoots among its rocks ; it is not for such a man to hesitate or swerve a hair's breadth from his coun- try's purpose and true interests, because of the yelpings, the bowlings and snarlings of that hungry pack, which corrupt men keep, directly or indirectly, in pay, with the view of hunting down every man who dare develope their purposes ; a pack, composed, it is true, of some native curs, but for the most part, of hounds and spaniels of very recent importation, whose backs are scared by the lash, and whose necks are sore with the collars of their former masters. In fulfilling THE NEW ARMY BILL. 351 his duty, the lover of his country must often be obUged to breast the shock of calumny. If called to that service, he will meet the exigency with the same firmness, as, should another occasion call, he would breast the shock of battle. No, sir, I am not to be deterred by such apprehensions. May heaven so deal with me and mine, as I am true or faithless to the best interests of this people ! May it deal with me according to its just judgments, when I fail to bring men and measures to the bar of public opinion ; and to expose projects and systems of policy, which I realize to be ruinous to the peace, prosperity and liberties of my country ! £:XTRACT FROM A SPEECH, ON THE BILL PROPOSING TO ADD TWENTY THOUSAND MEN TO THE ARMY, IN 1815. BY HENRY CLAY, — QQfS— I am far from acknowledging, that, had the orders in council been repealed, as they have been, before the war was declared, the declaration of hostilities would of course have been prevented. In a body so numerous as this is, from which the declaration emanated, it is impossible to say, with any degree of certainty, what would have been the effect of such a repeal. Each member must answer for himself. As to myself, I have no hesitation in saying, that I have always considered the impressment of American sea- men, as much the most serious aggression. But, sir, how have those orders at last been repealed ? Great Britain, it is true, has intimated a willingness to suspend their practical operation, but she still arrogates to herself the right to re- vive them upon certain contingencies, of Avhich she consti- tutes herself the sole judge. She waves the temporary use of the rod, but she suspends it in terrorem over our heads. Supposing it to bs conceded to gentlemen that such a repeal of the orders in council, as took place on the twenty-third of June last, exceptionable as it is, being known before the war was proclaimed, would have prevented it : does it follow, that it ought to induce us to lay down our arms, without the redress of any other injury of which we complain ? Does it follow, in all cases, that that, which would in the first in. stance have prevented, would also terminate the war ? By no means. It requires a strong and powerful effort in a na. clay's speech, 353 lion, prone to peace as this is, to burst through its habits and encounter the difficulties and privations of war. Such a nation ought but seldom to embark in a belligerent con- test ; but when it does, it should be for obvious and essential rights alone, and should firmly resolve to extort, at all haz- ards, their recognition. The war of the revolution is an example of a war began for one object and prosecuted for another. It was waged, in its commencement, against the right asserted by the parent country to tax the colonies. Then no one thought of absolute independence. The idea of independence was repelled. But the British government would have relinquished the principle of taxation. The founders of our liberties saw, however, that there was no se- curity short of independence, and they achieved that inde- pendence. When nations are engaged in war, those rights ' in controversy, which are not acknowledged by the treaty of peace, are abandoned. And who is prepared to say, that American seamen shall be surrendered, as victims to the British principle of impressment ? And, sir, what is this principle ? She contends, that she has a right to the services of her own subjects ; and that, in the exercise of this right, she may lawfully impress them, even although she finds them in American vessels, upon the high seas, without her juris- diction. Now I deny that she has any right, beyond her jurisdiction, to come on board our vessels, upon the high seas, for any other purpose than in the pursuit of enemies, or their goods, or goods contraband of war. But she further contends, that her subjects cannot renounce their allegiance to her, and contract a new obligation to other sovereigns. I do not mean to go into the general question of the right of expatriation. If, as is contended, all nations deny it, all nations, at the same time, admit and practice the right of naturalization. Great Britain herself does this. Great Britain, in the very case of foreign seamen, imposes, per- haps, fewer restraints upon naturalization than any other nation. Then, if subjects cannot break their original alle- 30* 354 clay's speech on giance, they may, according to universal usage, contract a new allegiance. What is the effect of this double obligation ? Undoubtedly, that the sovereign having the possession of the subject, would have the right to the services of the subject. If he return within the jurisdiction of his primitive sovereign, he may resume his right to his services, of which the sub- ject, by his oM'n act, could not divest himself. But his prim- itive sovereign can have no right to go in quest of him, out of his own jurisdiction, into the jurisdiction of another sove- reign, or upon the high seas ; where there exists no jurisdic- tion, or it is possessed by the nation owning the ship navi- gating them. But, sir, this discussion is altogether useless. It is not to the British principle, objectionable as it is, that we are alone to look ; it is to her practice, no matter what guise she puts on. It is in vain to assert the inviolability of the obligation of allegiance. It is in vain to set up the plea of necessity, and to allege that she cannot exist without the impressment of her seamen. The naked truth is, she comes, by her press gangs, on board of our vessels, seizes our native as well as naturalized seamen, and drags them into her ser- vice. It is the case, then, of the assertion of an erroneous principle, and of a practice not conformable to the asserted principle — a principle which, if it were theoretically right, must be for ever practically wrong — a practice which can obtain countenance from no principle whatever, and to submit to which, on our part, would betray the most ab- ject degradation. We are told, by gentlemen in the opposi- tion, that government has not done all that was incumbent on it to do, to avoid just cause of complaint on the part of Great Britain ; that, in particular, the certificates of protec tion, authorized by the act of 1796, are fraudulently used. Sir, government has done too much in granting those paper protections. I can never think of them without being shocked. They resemble the passes which the master grants to his negro slave — " let the bearer, Mungo, pass and repass ■without molestation." What do they imply ? That Great THB NEW AKMY BILL. 365 Britain has a right to seize all who are not provided with them. From their very nature they must be liable to abuse on both sides. If Great Britain desires a mark, by which she can know her own subjects, let her give them an ear- mark. The colors that float from the mast-head should be the credentials of our seamen. There is no safety to us, and the gentlemen have shown it, but in the rule that all who sail under the flag, (not being enemies,) are protected by the flag. It is impossible that this country should ever abandon the gallant tars, who have won for us such splen- did trophies. Let me suppose that the genius of Columbia should visit one of them in his oppressor's prison, and attempt to reconcile him to his forlorn and wretched condition. She would say to him, in the language of gentlemen on the other side : " Great Britain intends you no harm ; she did not mean to impress you, but one of her own subjects ; having taken you by mistake, I will remonstrate, and try to prevail upon her, by peaceable means, to release you, but I cannot, my son, fight for vou." If he did not consider this mere mockery, the poor tar would address her judgment and say, ' You owe me, my coun- try, protection ; I owe you, in return, obedience. I am no British subject, I am a native of old Massachusetts, where live my aged father, my wife, my children. I have faithfully discharged my duty. Will you refuse to do yours V Ap- pealing to her passions, he would continue : ' I lost this eye in fighting under Truxton, with the Insurgente ; I got this scar before Tripoli ; I broke this leg on board the Constitu- tion, when the Guerriere struck.' If she remained still un- moved, he would break out, in the accents of mingled distress and despair. Hard, hard is my fate ! once I freedom enjoyed, Was as happy as happy could be ! Oh ! how hard is my fate, how galling these chains ! I will not imagine the dreadful catastrophe to which he would be driven by an abandoment of him to his oppressor. It will not be, it cannot be, that his country will refuse him protection. EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, DELIVERED BEFORE THE LEGISLATURE OF VERMONT ON THE DAY OF ELECTION. BY WILLBUR FISK. TnERE is a spirit, an active, aspiring principle in man, which cannot be broken down by oppression, or satisfied by indulcrcnco. D" " He has a soul of vast desires, It burns within with restless fires." Desires, which no earthly good can satisfy ; fires which no waters of aflSiction or discouragement can quench. And it is from this his nature, that society derives all its inter- ests, and here also lies all its danger. This spirit is at onco the terror of tyrants, and the destroyer of republics. To form some idea of its strength, let us look at it in its different conditions, both when it is depressed, and when it is e.xalted. See when it is bent down for a time, by the iron grasp and leaden sceptre of tyranny, cramping, and curtail- ing, and hedging in the soul, and foihng it in all its attempts to break from its bonds and assert its native independence. In these cases, the noble spirit, like a wild beast in the toils, sinks down at times, into sullen inactivity, only that it may rise again, when exhausted nature is a little restored, to rush, as hope excites or madness impels, in stronger paroxysms airainst the cords which bind it down. This is seen in the mobs and rebellions of the most besot- ted and enslaved nations. Witness the repeated convul- pisk's discourse. 857 sions in Ireland, that degraded and oppressed country. Neither desolating armies, nor numerous garrisons, nor the most rigorous administration, enforced by thousands of pub- lic executions, can break the spirit of that restless people. Witness Greece ; generations have passed away since the ■warriors of Greece have had their feet put in fetters, and the race of heroes had apparently become extinct ; and the Grecian lyre had long been unstrung, and her lights put out. Her haughty masters thought her spirit was dead ; but it was not dead, it only slept. In a moment, as it were, we saw all Greece in arms ; she shook off her slumbers, and rushed with phrensy and hope, upon seeming impossibilities, to con- quer or to die. And though the mother and the daughter, as well as the father and the son, have fought and fallen in the common cause, until her population grows thin ; though Missolonghi and many other strong holds are fallen, until her fortifica- tions are few and feeble ; though Christian nations have looked on with a cruel inactivity, without lending their needed aid ; yet the spirit of Greece is no more subdued than at the commencement of the contest. It cannot be subdued. We see then that man has a spirit, which is not easily broken down by oppression. Let us inquire, whether it can be more easily satisfied by indulgence. And in every step of this inquiry, we shall find that no miser ever yet had gold enough ; no office-seeker ever yet had honor enough ; no conqueror ever yet subdued kingdoms enough. When the rich man had filled his store-houses, he must pull down and build larger. When Caesar had conquered all his enemies, he must enslave his friends. When Bonaparte had become the Emperor of France, he aspired to the throne of all Europe. Facts, a thousand facts, in every age and among all classes, prove, that such is the ambitious nature of the soul, such the increasing com- pass of its vast desires, that the material universe, with all 358 pisk's discourse before its vastness, richness, and variety, cannot satisfy it. Nor is it in the power of the governments of this world, in their most perfect forms, so to interest the feeUngs, so to regulate the desires, so to restrain the passions, or so to divert, or charm, or chain the souls of a whole community, but that these latent and ungovernable fires will sooner or later burst out and endanger the whole body politic. I know it has been supposed, by the politicians, that in an intelligent and well-educated community, a government might be so constituted by a proper balance of power, by equal representation, and by leaving open the avenues to office and wealth, for a fair and honorable competition among all classes, as to perpetuate the system to the latest poster- ity. Such a system of government, it is acknowledged, is the most likely to continue ; but all these political and litera- ry helps, unaided by the kingdom of Christ, will not secure any community from revolution and ruin. And he knows but little of the nature of man who judges otherwise. What has been the fate of the ancient repub- lies ? They have been dissolved by this same restless and disorganizing spirit, of which we have been speaking. And do we not see the same dangerous spirit, in our own com- paratively happy and strongly constituted republic. The wise framers of our excellent political institutions, like the eclectic philosophers, have selected the best parts out of all the systems which preceded them ; and to these have added others, according to the suggestions of their own wisdom, or the leadings of Providence, and have form- ed the whole into a constitution, the most perfect the world has ever witnessed. Here every thing that is rational in political liberty, is enjoyed ; here the most salutary checks and restraints, that have yet been discovered, are laid upon men in office. Here the road to honor and wealth is open to all ; and here is general intelligence. But here man is found to pos- sess the same nature as elsewhere. And the stirrines of his THE VERMONT LEGISLATURE. 359 restless spirit have already disturbed the peace of society and portend future convulsions. Party spirit is begotten ; ambitious views are engendered, and fed, and inflamed; many are running the race for office ; rivals are envied ; characters are aspersed ; animosities are enkindled ; and the whole community are disturbed by the electioneering contest. No meanness is foregone, no calumny is too glaring, no venaUty is too base, when the mind is inflamed with strong desire, and elated with the hope of success, in the pursuit of some favorite object. And when the doubtful question is decided, it avails nothing. Disappointment sours the mind, and often produces the most bitter enmity and the most set- tled and systematic opposition, in the unsuccessful party ; while success but imperfectly satisfies the mind of the more fortunate. And if no other influence come in, to curb the turbulent spirits of men, besides that which is found in our general intelligence, and constitutional checks, probably, at no great distance of time, such convulsions may be witnessed in our now happy country, as shall make the ears of him that heareth it tingle, and the eyes of him that seeth it weep blood. State may be arrayed against state, section against section, and party against party, till all the horrors of civil war may desolate our land. Are there no grounds for such fears ? Already office-seekers, in different parts of the country, unblushingly recommend themselves to notice, and palm themselves upon the people, by every electioneering ma- noeuvre ; and in this way, such an excitement is produced,' in many parts of the union, as makes the contending parties almost Uke mobs, assailing each other. Only let the public sense become vitiated, and let a number of causes unite to produce a general excitement, and all our fair political pro- portions would fall before the spirit of party, as certainly and as ruinously as the fair proportions of Italian architect ture fell before the ancient Goths and Vandals. EXTRACT, FROM A "PLEA FOR THE WEST>" BY LYMAN BEECHER. The great experiment is now making, and from its extent and rapid filling up is making in the West, whether the per- petuity of our republican institutions can be reconciled with universal suffrage. Without the education of the head and heart of the nation, they cannot be ; and the question to be decided is, can the nation, or the vast balance power of it be so imbued with intelligence and virtue, as to bring out, in laws and -their administration, a perpetual self-preserving energy ? We know that the work is a vast one, and of great difficulty ; and yet we believe it can be done. We know that we have reached an appalling crisis ; that the work is vast and difficult, and is accumulating upon us beyond our sense of danger and deliberate efforts to meet it. It is a work that no legislation alone can i-each, and nothing but an undivided, earnest, decided public sentiment can achieve ; and that, too, not by anniversary resolutions and fourth of July orations, but by well systematized voluntary associations : counting the worth of our institutions, the perils that surround them, and the means and the cost of their preservation, and making up our minds to meet the exigency. I am aware that our ablest patriots are looking out on the deep, vexed with storms, with great foi-ebodings and failings of heart for fear of the things that are coming upon us ; and I perceive a spirit of impatience rising, and distrust, in respect to the perpetuity of our republic ; and I am sure beecher's plea. 361 ihat these fears are well founded, and am glad that they exist. It is the star of hope in our dark horizon. Fear is what we need, as the ship needs wind on a ixjcking sea, after a storm, to prevent foundering. But when our fear and our efforts shall correspond with our danger, the danger is past. For it is not the impossibility of self-preservation that threatens us ; nor is it the unwillingness of the nation to pay the price of the preservation, as she has paid the price of the purchase of our hberties. It is inattention and inconsideration, protracted till the crisis is past, and the things which belong to our peace are hid from our eyes. And blessed be God, that the tokens of a national waking up, the harbinger of God's mercy, are multiplying upon us ! There is at the West an enthusiastic feeling on- the sub- ject of education, and nothing has so inspired us witli hope as to witness the susceptibleness of the East on the same subject, and the national fraternal benevolence with which you are ready to put forth a helping hand. We have been sad, but now we are joyful. We see, we feel that East and West, and North and South are waking up upon the subject : a redeeming spirit is rising which will save the nation. We did not, in the darkest hour, believe that God had brought our fathers to this goodly land to lay the foundation of reli- gious liberty, and wrought such wonders in their preserva- tion, and raised their descendants to such heights of civil and religious prosperity, only to reverse the analogy of his providence, and abandon his work, and though now there be clouds and the sea roaring, and men's hearts failing, we be- lieve there is light behind the cloud, and that the eminence of our danger is intended, under the guidance of Heaven, to call forth and apply a holy, fraternal fellowship between the East and West, which shall secure our preservation, and make the prosperity of our nation durable as time, and as abundant as the waves of the sea. I would add, as a motive to immediate action, that if we do fail in our great experiment of self-government, our de- 31 362 beecuisk's plea. struction will be as signal as the birth-right abandoned, the mercies abused and the provocation offered to beneficent Heaven. The descent of desolation will correspond with the past elevation. No punishments of Heaven are so se- vere as those for mercies abused ; and no instrumentality employed in their infliction is so dreadful as the wrath of man. No spasms are like the spasms of expiring liberty, and no waitings such as her convulsions extort. It took Rome three hundred years to die ; and our death, if wc perish, will be as much more terrific as our intelligence and free institutions have given to us more bone, and sinew and vitality. May God hide me from the day when the dying agonies of my country shall begin ! O, thou beloved land bound together by the ties of brotherhood and common in- terest, and perils, live forever — one and undivided ? But whatever we do, it must be done quickly : for there is a tide in human things which waits not, — moments on which the destiny of a nation balances, w hen the light dust may turn the right way or the wrong. And such is the condi- tion of our nation now. Mighty influences are bearing on us in high conflict for good or for evil, — for an immortality of wo, or blessedness; and a slight efibrt now may secure what ages of repentance cannot recover when lost, and soon the moment of our practical preservation may have passed away. We must educate the whole nation while we may. All — all who would vote must be enlightened, and reach- ed by the restraining and preserving energies of Hea- vcn. The lanes and alleys — the highways and hedges — the abodes of filth and sordid poverty must be entered, and the young immortals sought out, and brought up to the light of intellectual and moral daylight. This can be done. God, if we are prompt and willing, will give us the time. But if, in this our day, we neglect the things that belong to our peace, wc shall find no place for repentance, though we seek it carefully and with tears. EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, DELIVERED BEFORE THE NEW YORK HISTORICAL SOCI- ETY, DECEMBER 7, 1818. BY GULIAN C. VERPLANCK. The study of the history of most other nations, fills the mind with sentiments not unlike those which the American traveller feels on entering the venerable and lofty cathedral of some proud old city of Europe. Its solemn grandeur, its vastness, its obscurity, strike awe to his heart. From the richly painted windows, filled with sacred emblems and strange antique forms, a dim religious light falls around. A thousand recollections of romance and poetry, and legendary story, come thronging in upon him. He is surrounded by the tombs of the mighty dead, rich with the labors of ancient art, and emblazoned with the pomp of heraldry. What names does he read upon them? Those of princes and nobles who are now remembered only for their vices ; and of sovereigns, at whose death no tears were shed, and whose memories lived not an hour in the affections of their people. There, too, he sees other names, long familiar to him for their guilty or ambiguous fame. There rest, the blood-stained soldier of fortune — the orator, who was ever the ready apologist of tyranny — great scholars, who were the pensioned flatterers of power — and poets, who profaned the high gift of genius, to pamper the vices of a corrupted court. Our own history, on the contrary, like that poetical temple of fame, reared by the imagination of Chaucer, and decorated by the taste of Pope, is almost exclusively dedica- 364 veei'Lanck's discouksk before ted to the memory of the truly great. Or rather, like the Pantheon of Rome, it stands in calm and severe beauty amid the ruins of ancient magnificence and "the toys of modei'n state." Within, no idle ornament encumbers its bold simplicity. The pure light of heaven enters from above and sheds an equal and serene radiance aix>und. As the eye wanders about its extent, it beholds the unadorned mon- uments of brave and good men who have greatly bled or toiled for their country, or it rests on votive tablets inscribed with the names of the best benefactors of mankind. "Patriots are here, in Freedom's battles slain, Priests, whose long lives were closed without a stafn. Bards worthy him who breathed the poet's mind. Founders of arts that dignify mankind, And lovers of our race, whose labours gave Their names a memory that defies the grave." Virgil— From the MS. of Bryant. Doubtless, this is a subject upon which we may be justly proud. But there is another consideration, which, if it did not naturally arise of itself, would be pressed upon us by the taunts of European criticism. What has this nation done to repay the world for the bene- fits we have received from others? We have been repeat- edly told, and sometimes too, in a tone of affected impartial- ity, that the highest praise which can fairly be given to the American mind, is that of possessing an enlightened selfish- ness ; that if the philosophy and talents of this country, with all their effects, were forever swept into oblivion, the loss would be felt only by ourselves ; and that if to the accuracy of this general charge, the labours ot Franklin present an illustrious, it is still but a solitary exception. The answer may be given, confidently and triumphantly. Without abandoning the fame of our eminent men, whom Europe has been slow and reluctant to honour, we would reply ; that the intellectual power of this people has exerted THE KEW TORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 365 itself in conformity to the general system of our institutions and manners ; and therefore, that for the proof of its exist- ence and the measure of its force, we must look not so much to the works of prominent individuals, as to the great aggre- gate results ; and if Europe has hitherto been wilfully blind to the value of our example and the exploits of our sagacity, courage, invention and freedom, the blame must rest with her, and not with America. Is it nothing for the universal good of mankind to have carried into successful operation a system of self-govern- ment, uniting personal liberty, freedom of opinion, and equal- ity of rights, with national power and dignity ; such as had before existed only in the Utopian dreams of philosophers? Is it nothing, in moral science, to have anticipated in sober reality, numerous plans of reform in civil and criminal juris- prudence, which are, but now, received as plausible theories by the politicians and economists of Europe ? Is it nothing to have been able to call forth on every emergency, either in war or peace, a body of talents always equal to the difficulty? Is it nothing to have, in less than half a ccn- tury, exceedingly improved the sciences of political econo- my, of law, and of medicine, with all their auxiliary branches ; to have enriched human knowledge by the accumulation of a great mass of useful facts and observations, and to have augmented the power, and the comforts of civilized man, by miracles of mechanical invention ? Is it nothing to have given the world examples of disinterested patriotism, of political wisdom, of public virtue ; of learning, eloquence, and valor, never exerted save for some praiseworthy end ? It is sufficient to have briefly suggested these considera- tions ; every mind would anticipate me in filling up the details. No — 'Land of Liberty ! thy children have no cause to blush for thee. What though the arts have reared few monu- ments among us, and scarce a trace of the Muse's footstep 31* 366 vbeplanck's discoukse. is found in the paths of our forests, or along the banks of our rivers; yet our soil has been consecrated by the blood of heroes, and by great and holy deeds of peace. Its wide ex- tent has become one vast temple and hallowed asylum, sanc- tified by the prayers and blessings of the persecuted of every sect, and the wretched of all nations. Land of Refuge — Land of Benedictions ! Those prayers still arise, and they still are heard : « May peace be within thy walls, and plenteousness within thy palaces !" "May there be no decay, no leading into captivity, and no com- plaining in thy streets !" « May truth flourish out of the earth, and righteousness look down from Heaven." EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, ON THE DEATH OP ALEXANDER HAMILTON. BY ELIPHALET NOTT, D. D. Another and an illustrious character — a father — a general — a statesman — the very man who stood on an eminence and without a rival among sages and heroes, the future hope of his country in danger — this man, yielding to the influ- ence of a custom, which deserves our eternal reprobation, has been brought to an untimely end. That the deaths of great and useful men should be partic- ularly noticed, is equally the dictate of reason and revelation. The tears of Israel flowed at the decease of good Josiah, and to his memory the funeral women chanted the solemn dirge. But neither examples nor arguments are necessary to wake the sympathies of a grateful people on such occasions. The death of public benefactors surcharges the heart, and it spontaneously disburdens itself by a flow of sorrows. Such was the death of Washington : to embalm whose memory, and perpetuate whose deathless fame, we lent our feeble, but unnecessary services. Such, also, and more peculiarly so, has been the death of Hamilton. The tidings of the former moved us, mournfully moved us, and we wept. The account of the latter chilled our hopes and curdled our blood. The former died in a good old age ; the latter was cut off" in his usefulness. The former was a customary providence : we saw in it, if I may speak so, the finger of God, and rested in his sovereignty. The latter is not attended with thia soothing circumstance. 868 NOTt's DfSCOURSE ON The fall of Hamilton, owes its existence to mad delibera- tion, and is marked by violence. The time, the place, the circumstances, are arranged with barbarous coolness. The instrument of death is levelled in day-light, and with well directed skill pointed at his heart. Alas ! the event has proven that it was but too well directed. Wounded, mortally wounded, on the very spot which still smoked with the blood of a favorite son, into the arms of his indiscreet and cruel friend, the father fell. Ah ! had he fallen in the course of nature ; or jeopardiz- ing his life in defence of his country ; had he fallen — but he did not. He fell in single combat — pardon my mistake — he did not fall in single combat. His noble nature refused to endanger the life of his antagonist. But he exposed his own life. This was his crime : and the sacredness of my office forbids that I should hesitate explicitly to declare it so. He did not hesitate to declare it so himself. " My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed to duelling." These are his words before he ventured to the field of death. " I view the late transaction with sorrow and contrition." These are his words after his return. Humiliating end of illustrious greatness ! " How are the mighty fallen !" And shall the mighty thus fall ? Thus shall the noblest lives be sacrificed and the richest blood be spilt ? " Tell it not in Gath ; publish it not in the streets of Askelon !" ^ Think not that the fatal issue of the late inhuman inter- view was fortuitous. No ; the hand that guides unseen the ari'ow of the archer, steadied and directed the arm of the duellist. And why did it thus direct it ? As a solemn memento — as a loud and awful warning to a community where justice has slumbered — and slumbered — and slumbered — while the wife has been robbed of her partner, the mother of her hopes, and life after life rashly, and with an air of triumph, sported away. And was there, O my God ! no other sacrifice valuable enough — would the cry of no other blood reach the place of THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. 369 retribution and wake justice, dozing over her awful seat ! But tliough justice should still slumber, and retribution bo delayed, we, who are the ministers of that God, who will judge the judges of the world, and whose malediction rests on him who does his work unfaithfully, we will not keep silence. ********* Is duelling guilty ? — So it is absurd. It is absurd as a punishment, for it admits of no proportion to crimes : and besides, virtue and vice, guilt and innocence, are equally ex. posed by it, to death or suffering. As a reparation, it is still more absurd, for it makes the injured liable to a still greater injury. And as the vindication of personal character, it is absurd even beyond madness. One man of honor, by some inadvertence, or perhaps with design, injures the sensibility of another man of honor. In perfect character, the injured gentleman resents it. Ho challenges the offender. The offender accepts the challenge. The time is fixed. The place is agreed upon. The circum- stances, with an air of solemn mania, are arranged ; and tho principals, with their seconds and surgeons, retire under tha covert of some solitary hill, or upon the margin of some un- frequented beach, to settle this important question of honor, by stabbing or shooting at each other. One or the other, or both the pai'ties, fall in this polite and gentlemanlike con- test. And what does this prove ? It proves that one or the other, or both of them, as the case may be, arc marks- men. But it affords no evidence that either of them possess honor, probity or talents. It is true, that he who falls in single combat, has the honor of being murdered : and ho who takes his life, the honor of a murderer. Besides this, I know not of any glory which can redound to the infatuated combatants, except it be what result from having extended the circle of wretched widows, and added to the number of hapless orphans. And yet, terminate as it will, this frantio meeting, by a kind of magic influence, entirely varnishes 370 nott's discourse ox over a defective and smutty character ; transforms vice to virtue, cowardice to courage ; makes falsehood, truth ; guilt, innocence — in one word, it gives a new complexion to the whole state of things. The Ethiopian changes his skin, the leopard his spot, and the debauched and treacherous — having shot away the infamy of a sorry life, comes back from the field of perfectibility, quite regenerated, and, in the fullest sense, an honorable man. He is now fit for the com- pany of gentlemen. He is admitted to that company, and should he again, by acts of vileness, stain this purity of char- acter so nobly acquired, and should any one have the ef. frontery to say he has done so, again he stands ready to vindicate his honor, and by another act of homicide, to wipe away the stain which has been attached to it. I might illustrate this article by example. I might produce instances of this mysterious transformation of character, in the sublime circles of moral refinement, furnished by the higher orders of the fashionable world, which the mere firing of pistols has produced. But the occasion is too awful for irony. Absurd as duelling is, were it absurd only, though we might smile at the weakness and pity the folly of its abettors, there would be no occasion for seriously attacking them. But to what has been said, I add, that duelling is rash and presumptuous. Life is the gift of God, and it was never bestowed to be sported with. To each, the Sovereign of the universe has marked out a sphere to move in, and assigned a part to act. This part respects ourselves not only, but others also. Each lives for the benefit of all. As in the system of nature the sun shines, not to display its own brightness and answer its own convenience, but to warm, enlighten and bless the world ; so in the system of animated beings, there is a dependence, a correspondence, and a relation, through an infinitely extended, dying and reviving universe — "in which no man liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself." Friend is related to friend ; the THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. STl father to his family ; the individual to community. To every member of which, having fixed his station and assign- ed his duty, the God of nature says, " Keep this trust — defend this post." For whom ? For thy friends, thy family, thy country. And having received such a charge, and for such a purpose, to desert it is rashness and temerity. Since the opinions of men are as they are, do you ask, how you shall avoid the imputation of cowardice, if you do not fight when you are injured? Ask your family how you will avoid the imputation of cruelty ; ask your conscience how you will avoid the imputation of guilt : ask God how you will avoid his malediction, if you do ? These are previous questions. Let these first be answered, and it will be easy to reply to any which may follow them. If you only accept a challenge, when you believe in your conscience, that duelling is wrong, you act the coward. The dastardly fear of the world governs you. Awed by its menaces, you conceal your sentiments, appear in disguise, and act in guilty conformity to principles not your own, and that too in the most solemn moment, and when engaged in an act which exposes you to death. But if it be rashness to accept, how passing rashness is it, in a sinner, to give a challenge ? Does it become him, whose life is measured out by crimes, to be extreme to mark, and punctilious to resent, whatever is amiss in others? Must the duellist, who now disdaining to forgive, so impe- riously demands satisfaction to the uttermost — must this man himself, trembling at the recollection of his offences, presently appear a suppliant before the mercy-seat of God ? Imagine this, and the case is not imaginary, and you cannot conceive an instance of greater inconsistency, or of more presumptuous arrogance. Therefore, " avenge not your- selves, but rather give place unto wrath ; for vengeance is mine, I will repay it, saith the Lord." Do you ask, then, how you shall conduct towards your enemy, who hath lightly done you wrong ? If he be hungry, feed him ; if naked, 372 NOTX'S DISCOURSE OV clothe him ; if thir sty, give him drink. Such, had you pre- ferred your question to Jesus Christ, is the answer he had given you. By observing which, you will usually subdue, and always act more honorably than your enemy. I feel, my brethren, as a minister of Jesus and a teacher of his gospel, a noble elevation on this article. Compare the conduct of the Christian, acting in conformity to the principles of religion, and of the duellist, acting in conform- ity to the principles of honor, and let reason say, which bears the marks of the most exalted greatness. Compare them, and let reason say, which enjoys the most calm seren- ity of mind in time, and which is likely to receive the plaudit of his Judge in immortality. God, from his throne, beholds not a nobler object on his footstool, than the man •who loves his enemies, pities their errors, and forgives the injuries they do him. This is, indeed, the very spirit of the heavens. It is the image of His benignity, whose glory fills them. To return to the subject before us — guilty, absurd and rash, as duelling is, it has its advocates. And had it not had its advocates — had not a strange preponderance of opinion been in favor of it, never, O lamentable Hamilton ! hadst thou thus fallen, in the midst of thy days, and before thou hadst reached the zenith of thy glory ! O, that I possessed the talent of eulogy, and that I might be permitted to indulge the tenderness of friendship, in pay- ing the last tribute to his memory ! O that I were capable of placing this great man before you ! Could I do this, I should furnish you with an argument, the most practical, the most plain, the most convincing, except that drawn from the mandate of God, that was ever furnished against duelling — that horrid practice, which has in an awful moment, robbed the world of such exalted worth. But I cannot do this ; I can only hint at the variety and exuberance of his excellence. The Man, on whom nature seems originally to have im- pressed the stamp of greatness, whose genius beamed, from THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. 373 fhe retirement of collegiate life, with a radiance which daz- zled, and a loveliness which charmed the eye of sages. The Hero, called from his sequestered retreat, whose first appearance in the field, though a stripling, conciliated the esteem of Washington, our good old father. Moving by whose side, during all the perils of the revolution, our young chieftain was a contributor to the veteran's glory, the guar- dian of his person, and the copartner of his toils. The Conqueror, who, sparing of human blood, when victory favored, stayed the uplifted arm, and nobly said to the van- quished enemy, <'Live !" The Statesman, the correctness of whose principles, and the strength of whose mind, are inscribed on the records of Congress, and on the annals of the council chamber ; whose genius impressed itself upon the constitution of his country ; and whose memory, the government, illustrious fabric, rest- ing on this basis, will perpetuate while it lasts : and shaken by the violence of party, should it fall, which may heaven avert, his prophetic declarations will be found inscribed on its ruins. The Counsellor, who was at once the pride of the bar and the admiration of the court ; whose apprehensions were quick as lightning, and whose developement of truth was luminous as its path ; whose argument no change of circum- stances could embarrass ; whose knowledge appeared intui- tive ; and who, by a single glance, and with as much facility as the eye of the eagle passes over the landscape, surveyed the whole field of controversy ; saw in what way truth might be most successfully defended, and how error must be approached ; and who, without ever stopping, ever hesitating, by a rapid and manly march, led the listening judge and the fascinated juror, step by step, through a delightsome region, brightening as he advanced, till his argument rose to demon- stration, and eloquence was rendered useless by conviction ; whose talents were employed on the side of righteousness ; whose voice, whether in the council-chamber, or at the bar 32 374 nott's discourse oir of justice, was virtue's consolation ; at whose approach op- pressed humanity felt a secret rapture, and the heart of injured innocence leapt for joy. Where Hamilton was — in whatever sphere he moved, the friendless had a friend, the fatherless a father, and the poor man, though unable to reward his kindness, found an advo- cate. It was when the rich oppressed the poor ; when the powerful menaced the defenceless ; when truth was disre- garded, or the eternal principles of justice violated ; it was on these occasions, that he exerted all his strength ; it was on these occasions, that he sometimes soared so high and shone with a radiance so transcendent, I had almost said, so "heavenly, as filled those around him with awe, and gave to him the force and authority of a prophet." The Patriot, whose integrity baffled the scrutiny of in- quisition ; whose manly virtue never shaped itself to cir- cumstances ; who, always great, always himself, stood amidst the varying tides of party, firm like the rock, which, far from land, lifts its majestic top above the waves, and re- mains unshaken by the storms which agitate the ocean. The Friend, who knew no guile — whose bosom was trans- parent and deep ; in the bottom of whose heart was rooted every tender and sympathetic virtue ; whose various worth opposing parties acknowledged while alive, and on whose tomb they unite, with equal sympathy and grief, to heap their honors. I know he had his failings. I see, on the picture of his life — a picture rendered awful by greatness, and luminous by virtue, some dark shades. On these, let the tear, that pities human weakiifiss, fall : on these, let the veil, which covers human frailty, rest. Asa hero, as a statesman, as a patriot, he lived nobly : and would to God I could add, he nobly fell. Unwilling to admit his error in this respect, I go back to the period of discussion. I see him resisting the threaten- ed interview. I imagine myself present in his chamber. Various reasons, for a time, seem to hold his determination THE DEATH OP HAMILTOX. 375 in arrest. Various and moving objects pass before him, and speak a dissuasive language. His country, which may need his counsels to guide, and his arm to defend, utters her veto. The partner of his youth, already covered with weeds, and whose tears flow down into her bosom, intercedes ! His babos, stretching out their little hands and pointing to a weeping mother, with lisping eloquence, but eloquence which reaches a parent's heart, cry out, " Stay, stay, dear papa, and Uve for us !" In the mean time, the spectre of a fallen son, pale and ghastly, ap- proaches, opens his bleeding bosom, and as the harbinger of death, points to the yawning tomb, and warns a hesitating father of the issue ! He pauses : reviews these sad objects: and reasons on the subject. I admire his magnanimity, I approve his reasoning, and I wait to hear him reject, with indignation, the murderous proposition, and to see him spurn from his presence the presumptuous bearer of it. But I wait in vain. It was a moment in which his great wisdom forsook him — a moment in which Hamilton was not himself. He yielded to the force of an imperious custom : and yield- ing, he sacrificed a Ufe in which all had an interest — and he is lost — lost to his country, lost to his family, lost to us. For this act, because he disclaimed it, and was penitent, I forgive him. But there are those whom I cannot forgive. I mean not his antagonist ; over whose erring steps, if there be tears in Heaven, a pious mother looks down and weeps. If he be capable of feehng, he suffers already all that human- ity can suffer — suffers, and wherever he may fly, will suffer, with poignant recollection of having taken the life of one, who was too magnanimous, in return, to attempt his own. Had he known this, it must have paralyzed his arm, while it pointed, at so incorruptible a bosom, the instrument of death. Does he know this now ? His heart, if it be not adamant, must soften — if it be not ice, must melt. But on this article I forbear. Stained with blood as he is, if he be penitent, I forgive him — and if he be not, before these altars. 279 nott's uiscotjbse ow where all of us appear as suppliants, I wish not to excite your vengeance, but rather, in behalf of an object, rendered wretched and pitiable by crime, to wake your prayers. But I have said, and I repeat it, there are those whom I cannot forgive. I cannot forgive that minister at the altar, who has hitherto forborne to remonstrate on this subject. I cannot forgive that public prosecutor, who, intrusted with the duty of avenging his country's wrongs, has seen those wrongs, and taken no measures to avenge them. I cannot forgive that judge upon the bench, or that governor in the chair of state, who has lightly passed over such offences. I cannot forgive the public, in whose opinion the duellist finds a sanctuary. I cannot forgive you, my brethren, who till this late hour, have been silent, while successive murders were committed. No ; I cannot forgive you, that you have not, in common with the freemen of this state, raised your voice to the powers that be, and loudly and explicitly dc- manded an execution of your laws ; demanded this in a man- ner, which, if it did not reach the ear of government, would at least have reached the heavens, and plead your excuso before the God that filleth them — in whose presence as I stand, I should not feel myself innocent of the blood that crieth against us, had I been silent. But I have not been silent. Many of you who hear me, are my witnesses — the walls of yonder temple, where I have heretofore addressed you, aro my witnesses, how freely I have animadverted on this sub- ject, in the presence both of those who have violated the laws, and of those whose indispensable duty it is to see the laws executed on those who violate them. I enjoy another opportunity ; and would to God, I might be permitted to approach for once the late scene of death. Would to God, I could there assemble, on the one side, tho disconsolate mother with her seven fatherless children ; and on the other, thos3 who administer the justice of my coun- try. Could I do this, I would point them to these sad ob- jects. I would entreat them, by the agonies of bereaved THE DEATH OP HAMILTON. 377 fondness, to listen to the widow's heartfelt groans ; to mark the orphan's sighs and tears. And having done this, I would uncover the breathless corpse of Hamilton — I would lift from his gaping wound, his bloody mantle — I would hold it up to heaven before them, and I would ask, in the name of God, I would ask, whether, at the sight of it, they felt no compunction ? You will ask, perhaps, what can be done, to arrest the progress of a practice which has yet so many advocates? I answer, nothing — if it be the deliberate intention to do nothing. But, if otherwise, much is within our power. Let, then, the governor see that the laws are executed ; let the council displace the man who offends against their majesty : let courts of justice frown from their bar, as unworthy to appear before them, the murderer and his accomplices ; let the people declare him unworthy of their confidence who engages in such sanguinary contests ; let this be done, and should Ufe still bo taken in single combat, then the govern"or, the council, the court, the people, looking up to the Avenger of sin, may say, "we are innocent, we are innocent." Do you ask, how proof can be obtained? How can it be avoid- ed ? The parties return, hold up, before our eyes, the instruments of death, publish to the world the circumstances of their interview, and even, with an air of insulting triumph, boast how coolly and deliberately they proceeded in violating one of the most sacred laws of earth and heaven ! Ah ! ye tragic shores of Hoboken, crimsoned with the richest blood, I tremble at the crimes ye record against us — the annual register of murders which you keep and send up to God ! Place of inhuman cruelty ! beyond the limits of reason, of duty and of religion, where man assumes a more barbarous nature, and ceases to be man. What poignant, lingering sorrows do thy lawless combats occasion to sur- viving relatives! Ye who have hearts of pity — ye who have experienced the anguish of dissolving friendship — who 32* 378 nott's uiscouksk ok '^' have wept and still weep, over the mouldering ruins of de- parted kindred, ye can enter into this reflection. O thou disconsolate widow ! robbed, so cruelly robbed, and in so short a time, both of a husband and a son, what must be the plenitude of thy sufferings ! Could we approach thee, gladly would we drop the tear of sympathy, and pour into thy bleeding bosom the balm of consolation ! But how could we comfort her whom God hath not comforted ? To His throne, let us lift up our voice and weep. O God ! if thou art still the widow's husband, and the father of the fatherless, if in the fulness of thy goodness there be yet mer- cies in store for miserable mortals, pity, O pity this afflicted mother, and grant that her hapless orphans may find a friend, a benefactor, a father in Thee ! On this article I have done : and may God add his blessing. But I have still a claim upon your patience. I cannot here repress my feelings, and thus let pass the present op- portunity. " How are the mighty fallen." And, regardless as we are of vulgar deaths, shall not the fall of the mighty affect us ? A short time since, and he, who is the occasion of our sor- rows, was the ornament of his country. He stood on an eminence, and glory covered him. From that eminence ho has fallen — suddenly, forever, fallen. His intercourse with the living world has now ended ; and those, who would here- after find him, must seek him in the grave. There, cold and lifeless, is the heart which just now was the seat of friend- ship. There, dim and sightless is the eye, whose radiant and enlivening orb beamed with intelUgence ; and there, closed forever, are those lips, on whose persuasive accents we have so often, and so lately hung with transport ! From the darkness which rests upon his tomb, there proceeds, methinks, a light in which it is clearly seen, that those gaudy objects, which men pursue, are only phantoms. In this light, how dimly shines the splendor of victory ; how hum^ ble appears the majesty of grandeur ! The bubble, which THB DEATH OF HAMILTOX. 379 seemed to have so much solidity, has burst ; and we again see that all below the sun is vanity. True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced ; the sad and solemn procession has moved ; the badge of mourning has already been decreed, and presently the sculptured mar- ble will lift up its front, proud to perpetuate the name of Hamilton, and rehearse to the passing traveller his virtues. Just tributes of respect ! And to the living useful. But to him, mouldering in his narrow and humble habitation, what arc they ? How vain ! how unavailing ! Approach, and behold, while I lift from his sepulchre its covering ! Ye admirers of his greatness ; ye emulous of his talents and his fame, approach, and behold him now. How j)ale ! How silent ! No martial bands admire the adroit- ness of his movements : no fascinated throng weep, and ni.elt, and tremble, at his eloquence ! Amazing change ! A shroud ! a coffin ! a narrow, subterraneous cabin ! This is all that now remains of Hamilton ! And is this all that re- mains of him ? During a life so transitory, what lasting monument, then, can our fondest hopes erect ! ' My brethren ! we stand on the borders of an awful gull", which is swallowing up all things human. And is there, amidst this universal wreck, nothing stable, nothing abiding, nothing immortal, on which poor, frail, dying man can fasten ? Ask the hero, ask the statesman, whose wisdom you have been accustomed to revere, and he will tell you. He will tell you, did I say? He has already told you, from his death-bed, and his illumined spirit, still whispers from the heavens, with well known eloquence, the solemn admo- nition. "Mortals ! hastening to the tomb, and once the compan- ions of my pilgrimage, take warning and avoid my errors ; cultivate the virtues I have recommended ; choose the Sa- viour I have chosen ; live disinterestedly ; live for immor- tality ; and would you rescue any thing from final dissolu- tion, lay it up in God." 380 ' NOTX'S DISCOURSE ON Thus speaks, methinks, our deceased benefactor, and thus he acted during his lust sad hours. To the exclusion of every other concern, reUgion now claims all his thoughts, Jesus ! Jesus, is now his only hope. The friends of Jesus are his friends ; the ministers of the altar his companions. While these intercede, he listens in awful silence, or in pro- found submission whispers his assent. Sensible, deeply sensible of his sins, he pleads no merit of his own. He re- pairs to the mercy-seat, and there pours out his penitential sorrows — there he solicits pardon. Heaven, it should seem, heard and pitied the suppliant's cries. Disburdened of his sorrows, and looking up to God, he exclaims, " Grace, rich grace." " I have," said he, clasping his dying hands, and with a faltering tongue, "I have a tender reliance on the mercy of God in Christ." In token of this reliance, and as an expression of his faith, he receives the holy sacrament ; and having done this, his mind becomes tranquil and serene. Thus he remains, thoughtful indeed, but unruffled to the last, and meets death with an air of dignified composure, and with an eye directed to the heavens. This last act more than any other, sheds glory on his char- acter. Every thing else death eftaces. Religion alone abides with him on his death-bed. He dies a Christian. This is all which can be enrolled of him among the archives of eternity. This is all that can make his name great in heaven. Let not the sneering infidel persuade you that this last act of homage to the Saviour, resulted from an enfeebled state of mental faculties, or from perturbation occasioned by the near approach of death. No ; his opinions concerning the divine mission of Jesus Christ, and the validity of the holy scriptures, had long been settled, and settled after labo- rious investigation and extensive and deep research. These opinions were not concealed. I knew them myself. Some of you, who hear me, knew them ; and had his life been spared, it was his determination to have them published to the world, together with the facts and reasons on which they were founded. THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. 381 At a time when scepticism, shallow and superficial indeed, but depraved and malignant, is breathing forth its pestilen- tial vapor, and polluting, by its unhallowed touch, every thing divine and sacred ; it is consoling to a devout mind to reflect, that the great and the wise, and the good of all ages, those superior geniuses, whose splendid talents have elevated them almost above mortality, and placed them next in order to angelic natures — yes, it is consoling to a devout mind to reflect, that while dwarfish infidelity lifts up its de- formed head, and mocks these illustrious personages, though living in different ages, inhabiting different countries, nur- tured in different schools, destined to different pursuits, and differing on various subjects, should all, as if touched M'ith an impulse from heaven, agree to vindicate the -sacrednesa of Revelation, and present, with one accord, their learning, their talents and their virtue, on the gospel altar as an offer, ing to Emanuel. This is not exaggeration. Who was it, that, overleaping the narrow bounds which had hitherto been set to the human mind, ranged abroad through the immensity of space, discovered and illustrated those laws by which the Deity unites, binds and governs all things ? Who was it, soaring into the sublime of astronomic science, numbered the stars of heaven, measured their spheres, and called them by their names? It was Newton. But Newton was a Christian. Newton, great as he was, received instruction from the lips, and laid his honors at the feet of of Jesus. Who was it that developed the hidden combination, the component parts of bodies ? Who was it, dissected the animal, examined the flower, penetrated the eaith, and ranged the extent of or- ganic nature ? It was Boyle. But Boyle was a Christian. Who was it, that lifted the veil which had for ages covered the intellectual world, analyzed the human mind, defined its powers, and reduced its operations to certain and fixed laws 7 It was Locke. But Locke too was a Christian. What more shall I say ? For time would fail me, to speak 882 nott's discourse on of Hale, learned in the law ; of Addison, admired in the schools ; of Milton, celebrated among the poets ; and of Washington, immortal in the field and cabinet. To this cat- alogue of professing Christians, from among, if I may speak so, a higher order of beings, may now be added the name of Alexander Hamilton — a name which raises in the mind the idea of whatever is great, whatever is splendid, whatever is illustrious in human nature ; and which is now added to a catalogue which might be lengthened — and lengthened — and lengthened, with the names of illustrious characters, whose lives have blessed society, and whose works form a column high as heaven ; a column of learning, of wisdom and of greatness, which will stand to future ages, an eternal monu- ment of the transcendent talents of the advocates of Chris, tianity, when every fugitive leaf, from the pen of the canting infidel witlings of the day, shall be swept by the tide of time from the annals of the world, and buried with the names of their authors in oblivion. To conclude. " How are the mighty fallen !" Fallen before the desolating hand of death. Alas! the ruins of the tomb! The ruins of the tomb are an emblem of the ruins of the world ; when not an individual, but a universe, already marred by sin and hastening to dissolution, shall agonize and die ! Directing your thoughts from the one, fix them for a moment on the other. Anticipate the concluding scene, the final catastrophe of nature : when the sign of the Son of man shall be seen in heaven ; when the Son of man himself shall appear in the glory of his Father, and send forth judg. ment unto victory. The fiery desolation envelopes towns, palaces and fortresses ; the heavens pass away ! the earth melts ! and all those magnificent productions of art, which ages, heaped on ages, have reared up, are in one awful day reduced to ashes. Against the ruins of that day, as well as the ruins of tho the tomb which precede it, the gospel, in the cross of its great High Priest, offers you all a sanctuary ; a sanctuary THE DEATH OF HAMILTON. 383 secure and abiding ; a sanctuary, which no lapse of time^ nor change of circumstances, can destroy. No ; neither Ufa nor death. No ; neither principahties nor powers. Every thing else is fugitive ; every thing else is mutable ; every thing else will fail you. But this, the citadel of the Christian's hopes, will never fail you. Its base is adamant. It is cemented with the richest blood. The ransomed of the Lord crowd its portals. Embosomed in the dust which it en- closes, the bodies of the redeemed " rest in hope." On its top dwells the Church of the first born, who in delightful response with the angels of light, chant redeeming love. A- gainst this citadel the tempest beats, and around it the storm rages, and spends its force in vain. Immortal in its nature, and incapable of change, it stands, and stands firm, amidst the ruins of a mouldering world, and endures forever. Thither fly, ye prisoners of hope ! — that when earth, air, elements, shall have passed away, secure of existence and felicity, you may join with saints in glory, to perpetuate the song which lingered on the faltering tongue of Hamilton. " Grace — rich Grace." UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. APk ^ J955 Form L9 — 15m-10,'48 (B1039)444 u- .-^O / J /_ AA 000 408 097 4 PN hl99 S71;