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<i
 
 36 Webster's discourse. 
 
 schools and endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest 
 upon us, living under circumstances so much more favorable 
 both for providing and for using the means of education ? 
 Literature becomes free institutions. It is the graceful or- 
 nament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the asperi- 
 ties, wliich political controversy sometimes occasions. Just 
 taste is not only an embellishment of society, but it rises al- 
 most to the rank of the virtues, and diffuses positive good 
 throughout the whole extent of its influence. There is a 
 connexion between right feehng and right principles, and 
 truth in taste is allied with truth in morality. With nothing 
 in our past history to discourage us, and with something in 
 our present condition and prospects to animate us, let us 
 hope, that as it is our fortune to live in an age when we 
 may behold a wonderful advancement of the country in all its 
 other great interests, we may see also equal progress and 
 success attend the cause of letters. 
 
 Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our 
 origin. Our fathers were brought hither by their high ve- 
 neration for the Christian religion. They journeyed by its 
 light, and labored in its hope. They sought to incorporate 
 its principles with the elements of their society, and to dif- 
 fuse its influence through all their institutions, civil, politi- 
 cal, or literary. Let us cherish these sentiments, and extend 
 this influence still more widely ; in the full conviction, that 
 that is the happiest society, Avhich partakes in the highest 
 degree of the mild and peaceable spirit of Christianity. 
 
 The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion 
 will soon be passed. Neither we nor our children can expect 
 to behold its return. They are in the distant regions of 
 futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power of God, 
 who shall stand here, a hundred years hence, to trace, through 
 us, their descent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have 
 now surveyed, the progress of their country, during the lapse 
 of a century. We would anticipate their concurrence with 
 us in our sentiments of deep regard for our common anceSf
 
 Webster's discourse. 37 
 
 tors. We would anticipate and partake the pleasure with 
 which they will then recount the steps of New England's 
 advancement. On the morning of that day, although it will 
 not disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation and 
 gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be 
 transmitted through miUions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till 
 it lose itself in the murmurs of the Pacific seas. 
 
 We would leave for the consideration of those who shall 
 then occupy our places, some proof that we hold the blessings 
 transmitted from our fathers in just estimation ; some proof of 
 our attachment to the cause of good government, and of civil 
 and religious liberty ; some proof of a sincere and ardent de- 
 sire to promote everything which may enlarge the understand- 
 ings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long 
 distance of an hundred years, they shall look back upon us, 
 they shall know, at least, that we possessed affections, which, 
 running backward, and warming with gratitude for vvhat our 
 ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to 
 our posterity, and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet 
 they have arrived on the shore of being. 
 
 Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would hail 
 you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill the places 
 which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of existence, 
 where we are passing, and soon shall have passed, our own 
 human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land 
 of the fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies 
 and the verdant fields of New England. We greet your 
 accession to the great inheritance which we have enjoyed. 
 We welcome you to the blessings of good government, and 
 religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of 
 science, and the delights of learning. We welcome you to 
 the transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of 
 kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to 
 the immeasurable blessings of rational existence, the immor- 
 tal hope of Christianity, and the light of everlasting truth ! 
 
 4
 
 ORATIOX 
 
 OF JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 DELIVERED AT BOSTON, MARCH 5, 1772, THE ANNIVERSA- 
 RY OF THE "BOSTON MASSACRE." 
 
 — QjQjS— 
 
 When we turn over the historic page, and trace the rise 
 and fall of states and empires, the mighty revolutions which 
 have so often varied the face of the world strike our minds 
 with solemn surprise, and we ai'e naturally led to endeavor 
 to search out the causes of such astonishing changes. 
 
 That man is formed for social life, is an observation, 
 which, upon our first inquiry, presents itself immediately to 
 our view, and our reason approves that wise and generous 
 principle Avhich actuated the first founders of civil govern- 
 ment — an institution, which hath its origin in the weakness 
 of individuals, and hath for its end, the strength and security 
 of all : and so long as the means of effecting this important 
 end are thoroughly known, and religiously attended to, go- 
 vernment is one of the richest blessings to mankind, and 
 ought to be held in the highest veneration. 
 
 In young and new formed communities, the grand design 
 of this institution, is most generally understood, and most 
 strictly regarded. The motives which urged to the social 
 .compact, cannot be at once forgotten, and that equality 
 which is remembered to have subsisted so lately among 
 them, prevents those Avho are clothed with authority, from 
 attempting to invade the freedom of their brethren ; or if 
 such an attempt is made, it prevents the community from 
 sufiering the offender to go unpunished. Every member 
 feels it to be his interest and knows it to be his duty, to pre-
 
 AT BOSTON. 3ff 
 
 preserve inviolate the constitution on which the pubUc safety 
 depends, and he is equally ready to assist the magistrate in 
 the execution of the laws, and the subject in defence of his 
 right ; and so long as this noble attachment to a constitution 
 founded on free and benevolent principles, exists in full 
 vigor, in any state, that state mustbe flourishing and happy. 
 
 It was this noble attachment to a free constitution, which 
 raised ancient Rome, from the smallest beginnings, to that 
 bright summit of happiness and glory, to which she arrived ; 
 and it was the loss of this which plunged her from that sum- 
 mit into the black gulf of infamy and slavery. It was this 
 attachment which inspired her senators with wisdom ; it 
 was this which glowed in the breasts of her heroes ; it was 
 this which guarded her libarties and extended her domin- 
 ions, gave peace at home, and commanded respect abroad. 
 And when this decayed, her magistrates lost their reverence 
 for justice and the laws, and degenerated into tyrants and 
 oppressors ; her senators, forgetful of their dignity, and se- 
 duced by base corruption, betrayed their country ; her sol- 
 diers, regardless of their relation to the community, and 
 urged only by the hopes of plunder and rapine, unfeelingly 
 committed the most flagrant enormities ; and, hired to the 
 trade of death, with relentless fury they perpetrated the 
 most cruel murders, whereby the streets of imperial Rome 
 were drenched with her noblest blood. Thus this empress 
 of the world lost her dominions abroad, and her inhabitants, 
 dissolute in their manners, at length became contented 
 slaves ; and she stands to this day, the scorn and derision of 
 nations, and a monument of this eternal truth, that public 
 happiness depends on a virtuous and unshaken attachment 
 to a free constitution. 
 
 It was this attachment to a constitution, founded on free 
 and benevolent principles, which inspired the first settlers of 
 this country. They saAV, with grief, the daring outrages 
 committed on the free constitution of their native land ; 
 they knew, that nothing but a civil war could, at that time,
 
 40 warren's oration, 
 
 restore its pristine purity. So hard was it to resolve to 
 imbrue their hands in the blood of their brethren, that they 
 chose rather to quit their fair possessions and seek another 
 habitation in a distant cUme. When they came to this new 
 world, which they fairly purchased of the Indian natives, the 
 only rightful proprietors, they cultivated the then barren 
 soil, by their incessant labor, and defended their dear-bought 
 possessions with the fortitude of the christian, and the bra- 
 very of the hero. 
 
 After various struggles, which, during the tj- rannic reigns 
 of the house of Stuart, wereconstantlykept up between right 
 and wrong, between liberty and slavery, the connexion be- 
 tween Great Britain and this colony was settled in the reign 
 of king William and queen Mary, by a compact, the condi- 
 tions of which were expressed in a charter ; by which all 
 the liberties and immunities of British subjects, were con- 
 firmed to this province, as fully and as absolutely as they 
 possibly could be, by any human instrument, which can be 
 devised. And it is undeniably true, that the greatest and 
 most important right of a British subject is, that he shall be 
 governed by no laws but those to which he either in person, 
 or by his representatives, hath given his consent : and this, 
 I will venture to assert, is the grand basis of British freedom ; 
 it is interwoven with the constitution ; and whenever this is 
 lost, the constitution must be destroyed. 
 
 The British constitution, (of which ours is a copy,) is a 
 happy compound of the three forms, (under some of which 
 all governments may be ranged,) viz., monarchy, aristocra- 
 cy and democracy. Of these three the British legislature is 
 composed, and without the consent of each branch, nothing 
 can carry with it the foi-ce of a law. But when a law is to 
 be passed for raising a tax, that law can originate only in 
 the democratic branch, which is the house of commons in 
 Britain, and the house of representatives here. The reason 
 is obvious ; they and their constituents are to pay much the 
 largest part of it; but as the aristocratic branch, which, in
 
 AT BOSTON. 41 
 
 Britain, is the house of lords, and in this province, the coun- 
 cil, are also to pay some part, their consent is necessary ; 
 and as the monarchic bi-anch, which, in Britain, is the 
 king, and with us, either the king in person, or the governor 
 whom he shall be pleased to appoint to act in his stead, is 
 supposed to have a just sense of his own interest, which is 
 that of all the subjects in general, his consent is also neces- 
 sary, and when the consent of these three branches is obtain- 
 ed, the taxation is most certainly legal. 
 
 Let us now allow ourselves a few moments to examine the 
 late acts of the British parliament for taxing America. Let 
 us with candor, judge, whether they are constitutionally 
 binding upon us : if they are, in the name of justice let us 
 submit to them, without one murmuring word. 
 
 First, I would ask, whether the members of the British 
 House of Commons are the democracy of this province ? 
 If they are, they arc either the people of this province, 
 or are elected by the people of this province, to represent 
 them, and have, therefore, a constitutional right to ori- 
 ginate a bill for taxing them : it is most certain they are nei- 
 ther, and, therefore, nothing done by them can be said to be 
 done by the democratic branch of our constitution. I would 
 next ask, whether the lords, who compose the aristocratic 
 branch of the legislature, are peers of America ? I never heard 
 it was, (even in those extraordinary times,) so much as pre- 
 pretended ; and if they are not, certainly no act of theirs 
 can be said to be the act of the aristocratic branch of our 
 constitution. The power of the monarchic branch, we, with 
 pleasure, acknowledge resides in the king, who may act 
 either in person or by his representative ; and I freely con- 
 fess, that I can see no reason why a proclamation for raising 
 taxes in America, issued by the king's sole authority, would 
 not be equally consistent with our own constitution, and, 
 therefore, equally binding upon us, with the late acts of the 
 British parliament for taxing us ; for it is plain, that if there 
 is any validity in those acts, it must arise altogether from 
 4*
 
 42 warren's oration, 
 
 the monarchical branch of the legislature. And I further 
 think, that it would be at least as equitable ; for I do not 
 conceive it to be of the least importance to us by whom our 
 property is taken away, so long as it is taken without our 
 consent ; and I am very much at a loss to know, by what 
 figure of rhetoric, the inhabitants of this province can be 
 called free subjects, when they are obliged to obey, implicitly, 
 such laws as are made for them by men three thousand miles 
 off, whom they know not, and whom they never empowered to 
 act for them ; or how they can be said to have pi'operty, 
 when a body of men, over whom they have not the least con- 
 trol, and who are not in any way accountable to them, shall 
 oblige them to deliver up any part, or the whole of their 
 substance, without even asking their consent. And yet, 
 whoever pretends, that the late acts of ths British parlia- 
 ment, for taxing America, ought to be deemed binding upon 
 us, must admit at once, that we are absolute slaves, and have 
 no property of our own ; or else, that we may be freemen, 
 and, at the same time, under a necessity of obeying the arbi- 
 trary commands of those over whom we have no control or 
 influence, and that we may have property of our own, which 
 is entirely at the disposal of another. Such gross absurdi- 
 ties, I believe, will not be relished in this enlightened age : 
 and it can be no matter of wonder, that the people quickly 
 perceived, and seriously complained of the inroads which 
 these acts must unavoidably make upon their liberty, and of 
 the hazard to which their whole property is by them exposed. 
 For, if they may be taxed without their consent, even in the 
 smallest trifle, they may also, without their consent, be de- 
 prived of every thing they possess, although never so valu- 
 able, never so dear. Certainly it never entered the hearts 
 of our ancestors, that, after so many dangers in this then 
 desolate wilderness, their hard-earned property should be at 
 the disposal of the British pai'liament. And as it was soon 
 found, that this taxation could not be supported by reason 
 and argument, it seemed necessary, that one act of oppres-
 
 AT BOSTOX. 43 
 
 sion should be enforced by another, and, therefore, contrary 
 to our just rights as possessing, or at least having a just title 
 to possess, all the hbertiesand immunities of British subjects, 
 a standing army was established among us in time of peace; 
 and evidently for the purpose of eifecting that, which it was 
 one principal design of the founders of the constitution to 
 prevent, (when they declared a standing army, in time of 
 peace, to be against law,) namely for the enforcement of obe- 
 dience to acts, which upon fair examination, appeared to 
 be unjust and unconstitutional. 
 
 The ruinous consequences of standing armies to free com- 
 munities, may be seen in the histories of Syracuse, Rome, and 
 many other once flourishing states ; some of which have now 
 scarce a name ! Their baneful influence is most suddenly 
 felt, when they are placed in populous cities ; for, by a cor- 
 ruption of morals, the public happiness is immediately af- 
 fected ; and that this is one of the effects of quartering 
 troops in a populous city, is a truth to which many a mourn- 
 ing parent, many a lost, despairing child in this metropolis, 
 must bear a very melancholy testimony. Soldiers are also 
 taught to consider arms as the only arbiters by which every 
 dispute is to be decided between contending states ; they are 
 instructed implicitly to obey their commanders, without in- 
 quiring into the justice of the cause they are engaged to 
 support ; hence it is, that they are ever to be dreaded as 
 the ready engines of tyranny and oppression. And it is 
 too observable, that they are prone to introduce the same 
 mode of decision in the disputes of individuals ; and from 
 thence have often arisen great animosities between them 
 and the inhabitants, who, whilst in a naked, defenceless state, 
 are frequently insulted and abused by an armed soldiery. 
 And this will be more especially the case, when the troops 
 are informed that the intention of their being stationed in 
 any city, is to overawe the inhabitants. That this was the 
 avowed design of stationing an armed force in this town, is 
 sufficiently known ; and we, my fellow-citizens, have seen,
 
 44 warken's oration, 
 
 we have felt the tragical effects ! — the fatal fifth of March. 
 1770, can never be forgotten. The horrors of that dreadful 
 night, are but too deeply impressed on our hearts. Lan- 
 guage is too feeble to paint the emotion of our souls, when 
 our streets were stained with the blood of our brethren ; 
 when our ears were wounded by the groans of the dying, 
 and our eyes were tormented with the sight of the mangled 
 bodies of the dead ; when our alarmed imagination present- 
 ed to our views our houses wrapped in flames, our children 
 subjected to the barbarous caprice of the raging soldiery, our 
 beauteous virgins exposed to all the insolence of unbridled 
 passion, our virtuous wives, endeared to us by every tender 
 tie, falling a sacrifice to worse than brutal violence, and 
 perhaps, like the famed Lucretia, distracted with anguish 
 and despair, ending their wretched fives by their own fair 
 hands. When we beheld the authors of our distress parading 
 in our streets, or drawn up in a regular battalia, as though in 
 a hostile city, our hearts beat to arms ; we snatched our 
 weapons, almost resolved by one decisive stroke, to avenge 
 the death of our slaughtered brethren, and to secure from 
 future danger, all that we held most dear. But propitious 
 heaven forbade the bloody carnage, and saved the threaten- 
 ed victims of our too keen resentment — not by their disci- 
 pline, not by their regular array ; no, it was royal George's 
 livery that proved their shield — it was that which turned the 
 pointed engines of destruction from their breasts. The 
 thoughts of vengeance were soon buried in our inbred affec- 
 tion to Great Britain, and calm reason dictated a method of 
 removing the troops more mild than an immediate recourse 
 to the sword. With united efforts you urged the immedi- 
 ate departure of the ti-oops from the town ; you urged it, 
 with a resolution which ensured success ; you obtained your 
 wishes, and the removal of the troops was efiected, without 
 one drop of their blood being shed by the inhabitants. 
 
 The immediate actors in the tragedy of that night, were 
 surrendered to justice. It is not mine to say how far they
 
 AT BOSTON. 45 
 
 were guilty. They have been tried by the country and ac- 
 quilled of murder! and they are not to be again arraigned 
 at an earthly bar. But surely the men who have promiscu- 
 ously scattered death amidst the innocent inhabitants of a 
 populous city, ought to see well to it, that they be prepared 
 to stand at the bar of an omniscient judge ! and all who con- 
 trived or encouraged the stationing troops in this place, have 
 reasons of eternal importance, to reflect with deep contri- 
 tion, on their base designs, and humbly repent of their impi- 
 ous machinations. 
 
 The infatuation which hath seemed, for a number of years, 
 to prevail in the British councils, with regard to us, is truly 
 astonishing ! What can be proposed by the repeated at- 
 tacks made upon our freedom, I really cannot surmise : even 
 leaving justice and humanity out of question. I do not 
 know of one single advantage, which can arise to the British 
 nation from our being enslaved. I know not of any gains, 
 which can be wrung from us by oppression, which they may 
 not obtain from us by our own consent, in the smooth chan- 
 nel of commerce. We wish the wealth and prosperity of 
 Britain ; we contribute largely to both. Doth what we con- 
 tribute lose all its value, because it is done voluntarily ? 
 The amazing increase of riches to Britain, the great rise of 
 the value of her lands, the flourishing state of her navy, are 
 striking proofs of the advantages derived to her from her 
 commerce with the colonies ; and it is our earnest desire that 
 she may still continue to enjoy the same emoluments, until 
 her streets are paved with American gold ; only, let us have 
 the pleasure of calling it our own, whilst it is in our own 
 hands. But this, it seems, is too great a favor ; we are to 
 be governed by the absolute command of others ; our pro- 
 perty is to be taken away without our consent ; if we com- 
 plain, our complaints are treated with contempt ; if we 
 assert our rights, that assertion is deemed insolence ; if we 
 humbly oflfer to submit the matter to the impartial decision 
 of reason, the sword is judged the most proper argiuncnt to
 
 46 warken's oration, 
 
 silence our murmurs ! But this cannot Ions be the case : 
 surely the British nation will not suffer the reputation of 
 their justice and their honor, to be thus sported away by a 
 capricious ministry. No, they will in a short time open 
 their eyes to their true interest ; they nourish in their own 
 breasts, a noble love of liberty ; they hold her dear, and they 
 know that all, who have once possessed her charms, had 
 rather die than suffer her to be torn from their embraces. 
 They are also sensible that Britain is so deeply interested in 
 the prosperity of the colonies, that she must eventually feel 
 every wound given to their freedom ; they cannot be igno- 
 rant that more dependence may be placed on the affections 
 of a brother, than on the forced service of a slave : they must 
 approve your efforts for the preservation of your rights ; 
 from a sympathy of soul they must pray for your success ; 
 and I doubt not but they will, ere long, exert themselves 
 effectually, to redress your grievances. Even in the disso- 
 lute reign of king Charles II. when the house of commons 
 impeached the earl of Clarendon, of high treason, the first 
 article on which they founded their accusation was, that " he 
 had designed a standing army to be raised, and to govern 
 the kingdom thereby." And the eighth article was, that 
 "he had introduced an arbitrary government into his ma- 
 jesty's plantation." A terrifying example to those who 
 are now forging chains for this country. 
 
 You have, my friends and countrymen, frustrated the de- 
 signs of your enemies, by your unanimity and fortitude : it 
 Avas your union and determined spirit which expelled those 
 troops, who polluted your streets with innocent blood. You 
 have appointed this anniversary as a standard memorial of 
 the bloody conscqtiences of placing an armed force in a popu- 
 lous city, and of your deliverance from the dangers which 
 then seemed to hang over your heads ; and I am confident 
 that you will never betray the least want of spirit when call- 
 ed upon to guard your freedom. None but they, who set 
 a just value upon the blessings of liberty, are worthy to en*
 
 AT BOSTON. 47 
 
 joy her — your illustrious fathers were her zealous votaries 
 — when the blasting frowns of tyranny drove her from pub- 
 lic view, they clasped her in their arms ; they cherished her 
 in their generous bosoms ; they brought her safe over the 
 rough ocean, and fixed her seat in this then dreary wilder- 
 ness ; they nursed her infant age with the most tender care ; 
 for her sake, they patiently bore the severest hardships ; for 
 her support, they underwent the most rugged toils ; in 
 her defence, they boldly encountered the most alarming dan- 
 gers ; neither the ravenous beasts that ranged the woods for 
 prey, nor the more furious savages of the wilderness, could 
 damp their ardor ! Whilst with one hand they broke the 
 stubborn glebe, with the other they grasped their weapons, 
 ever ready to protect her from danger. No sacrifice, not 
 even their own blood, was esteemed too rich a libation for 
 her altar ! God prospered their valor ; they preserved her 
 brilliancy unsullied ; they enjoyed her whilst they lived, and 
 dying, bequeathed the dear inheritance to your care. And 
 as they left you this glorious legacy, they have undoubtedly 
 transmitted to you some portion of their noble spirit, to in- 
 spire you with virtue to merit her, and courage to preserve 
 her. You surely cannot with such examples before your 
 eyes, as every page of the history of this country affords, 
 suffer your Uberties to be ravished from you by lawless force, 
 or cajoled away by flattery and fraud. 
 
 The voice of your father's blood cries to you from the 
 ground, my sons scorn to be slaves! In vain we met the 
 frowns of tyrants — in vain we crossed the boisterous ocean, 
 found a new world, and prepared it for the happy residence 
 of liberty — in vain we toiled — in vain we fought — we bled in 
 vain, if you our offspring, want valor to impel the assaults 
 of her invaders ! Stain not the glory of your worthy ances- 
 tors, but like them, resolve never to part with your birth- 
 right ; be wise in your deUberations, and detennined in 
 your exertions for the preservation of your liberties. Fol- 
 low not the dictates of passion, but enlist yourselves under
 
 48 warren's oration. 
 
 the sacred banner of reason; use every method in your 
 power to secure your rights ; at least prevent the curses of 
 posterity from being heaped upon your memories. 
 
 If you, with united zeal and fortitude, oppose the torrent 
 of oppression ; if you feel the true fire of patriotism burning 
 in your breasts : if you, from your souls, despise the most 
 gaudy dress that slavery can wear ; if you really prefer the 
 lonely cottage, (whilst blest with liberty,) to gilded palaces, 
 surrounded with the ensigns of slavery, you may have the 
 fullest assurance that tyranny, with her whole accursed train, 
 will hide their hideous heads in confusion, shame and des- 
 pair. If you perform your part, you must have the strong- 
 est confidence, that the same Almighty Being who protected 
 your pious and venerable forefathers, who enabled them to 
 turn a barren wilderness into a fruitful field, who so often 
 made bare his arm for their salvation, will still be mindful of 
 you their oflTspring. 
 
 May this Almighty Being, graciously preside in all our 
 councils. May he direct us to such measures as he himself 
 shall approve, and be pleased to bless. May we ever be a 
 people favored of God. May our land be a land of liberty, 
 the seat of virtue, the asylum of the oppressed, a name and 
 a praise in the whole earth, until the last shock of time shall 
 bury the empires of the world in one common undistin- 
 guished ruin !
 
 EXTRACT FROM AN ORATION, 
 
 DELIVERED AT BOSTON, MARCH 5, 1774, THE ANNIVERSA- 
 RY OF THE "BOSTON MASSACRE." 
 
 BY JOHN HANCOCK. 
 
 Patriotism is ever united with humanity and compas- 
 sion. This noble affection, which impels us to sacrifice 
 every thing dear, even life itself, to our country, involves in 
 it a common sympathy and tenderness for every citizen, and 
 must ever have a particular feeling for one who suffers in a 
 public cause. Thoroughly persuaded of this, I need not add 
 a word to engage your compassion and bounty towards a 
 fellow-citizen, who, with long protracted anguish, falls a vic- 
 tim to the relentless rage of our common enemies. 
 
 Ye dark designing knaves, ye murderers, parricides ! how 
 dare you tread upon the earth, which has drank in the blood 
 of slaughtered innocents, shed by your wicked hands'? 
 How dare you breathe that air which wafted to the ear of 
 heaven the groans of those who fell a sacrifice to your accurs- 
 ed ambition? But if the laboring earth doth not expand her 
 jaws ; if the air you breathe is not commissioned to be the mi- 
 nister of death ; yet, hear it and tremble ! The eye of heaven 
 penetrates the darkest chambers of the soul, traces the lead- 
 ing clue through all the labyrinths which your industrious 
 folly has devised ; and you, however you may have screened 
 yourselves from human eyes, must be arraigned, must lift 
 your hands, red with the blood of those whose death you 
 have procured, at the tremendous bar of God ! 
 
 But I gladly quit the gloomy theme of death, and leave 
 
 you to improve the thought of that important day, when our 
 
 5
 
 50 HANCOCK S ORATION, 
 
 naked souls must stand before that being, from whom noth- 
 ing can be hid. I would not dwell too long upon the horrid 
 effects which have already followed from quartering regular 
 troops in this town. Let our misfortunes teach posterity to 
 guard against such evils for the future. Standing armies 
 are sometimes, (I would by no means say generally, much 
 less universally,) composed of persons who have rendered 
 themselves unfit to live in civil society ; who have no other 
 motives of conduct than those which a desire of the present 
 gratification of their passions suggests ; who have no pro- 
 perty in any country ; men who have given up their own 
 liberties, and envy those who enjoy liberty ; who are equally 
 indifferent to the glory of a George or a Louis ; who, for the 
 addition of one penny a day to their wages, would desert 
 from the christian cross, and fight under the crescent of the 
 Turkish sultan. From such men as these, what has not a 
 state to fear ? With such as these, usurping Caesar passed 
 the Rubicon ; with such as these, he humbled mighty Rome, 
 and forced the mistress of the world to own a master in a 
 traitor. These are the men whom sceptered robbers now 
 employ to frustrate the designs of God, and render vain the 
 bounties which his gracious hand pours indiscriminately 
 upon his creatures. By these, the miserable slaves in Tur- 
 key, Persia, and many other extensive countries, are ren- 
 dcred truly wretched, though their air is salubrious, and their 
 soil luxuriously fertile. By these, France and Spain, though 
 blessed by nature with all that administers to the conven- 
 icnce of life, have been reduced to that contemptible state in 
 which they now appear ; and by these, Britain- 
 
 -but if I was possessed of the gift of prophecy, I dare 
 not, except by divine command, unfold the leaves on which 
 the destiny of that once powerful kingdom is inscribed. 
 
 But since standing armies are so hurtful to a state, per- 
 haps my countrymen may demand some substitute, some 
 other means of rendering us secure against the incursions of 
 a foreign enemy- But can you be one moment at a loss ?
 
 AT BOSTON. 51 
 
 Will not a well disciplined militia afford you ample security 
 against foreign foes ? We want not courage ; it is discipline 
 alone in which we are exceeded by the most formidable 
 troops that ever trod the earth. Surely our hearts flutter 
 no more at the sound of war, than did those of the immortal 
 band of Persia, the Macedonian phalanx, the invincible Ro- 
 man legions, the Turkish janissaries, the gens d'armes of 
 France, or the well known grenadiers of Britain. A well 
 disciplined militia is a safe and honorable guard to a com- 
 munity like this, whose inhabitants are by nature brave, and 
 are laudably tenacious of that freedom in which they were 
 born. From a well regulated militia, we have nothing to 
 fear ; their interest is the same with that of the state. When 
 a country is invaded, the militia are ready to appear in its 
 defence ; they march into the field with that fortitude which 
 a consciousness of the justice of their cause inspires ; they 
 do not jeopard their lives for a master who considers them 
 only as the instruments of his ambition, and whom they re- 
 gard only as the daily dispensers of the scanty pittance of 
 bread and water. No, they fight for their houses, their 
 lands, for their wives, their children ; for all who claim 
 the tenderest names, and are held dearest in their 
 hearts ; they fight p'''^ aris et focis, for their liberty, and 
 for themselves, and for their God. And let it not offend, if 
 I say, that no militia ever appeared in more flourishing con- 
 dition, than that of this province now doth ; and pardon me 
 if I say, of this town in particular. I mean not to boast ; 
 I would not excite envy but manly emulation. We have all 
 one common cause ; let it, therefore, be our only contest 
 who shall most contribute to the security of the liberties of 
 America. And may the same kind Providence which has 
 watched over this country from her infant state, still enable 
 us to defeat our enemies. I cannot here forbear noticing 
 the signal manner in which the designs of those, who wish 
 not well to us, have been discovered. The dark deeds of a 
 treacherous cabal, have been brought to public view. You
 
 52 Hancock's okatioit, 
 
 now know the serpents who, whilst cherished in your bo- 
 soms, were darting their envenomed stings into the vitals of 
 the constitution. But the representatives of the people 
 have fixed a mark on these vmgrateful monsters, which, 
 though it may not make them so secure as Cain of old, yet 
 renders them at least as infamous. Indeed, it would be 
 affrontive to the tutelar deity of this country, even to des- 
 pair of saving it from all the snares which human policy 
 can lay. 
 
 True it is, that the British ministry have annexed a 
 salary to the office of the governor of this province, to be 
 paid out of a revenue, raised in America, without our con- 
 sent. They have attempted to render our courts of justice 
 the instruments of extending the authority of acts of the 
 British parhament over this colony, by making the judges 
 dependent on the British administration for their support. 
 But this people will never be enslaved with their eyes open. 
 The moment they knew that the governor was not such a 
 governor as the charter of the province points out, he lost 
 his power of hurting them. They were alarmed ; they sus- 
 pected him, have guarded against him, and he has found 
 that a wise and a brave people, when they know their dan- 
 ger, are fruitful in expedients to escape it. 
 
 The courts of judicature, also, so far lost their dignity, by 
 being supposed to be under an undue influence, that our re- 
 presentatives thought it absolutely necessary to resolve that 
 they were bound to declare, that they would not receive 
 any other salary besides that which the general court should 
 grant them ; and if they did not make this declaration, that 
 it would be the duty of the house to impeach them. 
 
 Great expectations were also formed from the artful 
 scheme of allowing the East India Company to export tea to 
 America, upon their own account. This certainly, had it 
 succeeded, would have effected the purpose of the contri- 
 vers, and gratified the- most sanguine wishes of our adver- 
 saries. We soon should have found our trade in the hands
 
 AT BOSTON. 53 
 
 of foreigners, and taxes imposed on every thing which we 
 consumed ; nor would it have been strange, if, in a few 
 years, a company in London should have purchased an ex- 
 elusive right of trading to America. But their plot was 
 soon discovered. The people soon were aware of the poison 
 which, with so much craft and subtilty, had been concealed. 
 Loss and disgrace ensued : and, perhaps this long concerted 
 master-piece of policy, may i-sue in the total disuse of tea 
 in this country, which will eventually be the saving of the 
 lives and the estates of thousands. Yet while we rejoice that 
 the adversary has not hitherto prevailed against us, let us by- 
 no means put off the harness. Restless malice, and disap- 
 pointed ambition, will still suggest new measures to our in- 
 veterate enemies. Therefore, let us also be ready to take 
 the field whenever danger calls ; let us be united and 
 strengthen the hands of each other by promoting a general 
 union among us. Much has been done by the committees 
 of correspondence for this and the other towns of this pro- 
 vince, towards uniting the inhabitants ; let them still go on 
 and prosper. Much has been done by the committees of 
 correspondence, for the houses of assembly, in this and our 
 sister colonies, for uniting the inhabitants of the whole con- 
 tinent, for the security of their common interest. May 
 success ever attend their generous endeavors. But permit 
 me here to suggest a general congress of deputies, from the 
 several houses of assembly, on the continent, as the most 
 effectual method of establishing such an union, as the present 
 posture of our affairs require. At such a congress, a firm 
 foundation may be laid for the security of our rights and lib- 
 erties ; a system may be formed for our common safety, by 
 a strict adherence to which, we shall be able to frustrate any 
 attempts to overthrow our constitution ; restore peace and 
 harmony to America, and secure honor and wealth to Great 
 Britain, even against the inclinations of her ministers, whose 
 duty it is to study her welfare ; and we shall also free our- 
 selves from those unmannerly pillagers who impudently tell 
 
 5 *
 
 54 Hancock's oratiox, 
 
 us, that they are licensed by an act of the British parUament 
 to thrust their dirty hands into the pockets of every Ameri- 
 can. But, I trust, the happy time will come, when, with 
 the besom of destruction, those noxious vermin will be swept 
 forever from the streets of Boston. 
 
 Surely you never will tamely suffer this country to be a 
 den of thieves. Remember, my friends, from whom j'ou 
 sprang. Let not a meanness of spirit, unknown to those 
 whom you boast of as your fathers, excite a thought to the 
 dishonor of your mothers. I conjure you, by all that is dear, 
 by all that is honorable, by all that is sacred, not only that 
 ye pray, but that ye act ; that, if necessary, ye fight, and 
 even die, for the prosperity of our Jerusalem. Break in 
 sunder, with noble disdain, the bonds with which the Phi- 
 listines have bound you. Suffer not yourselves to be be- 
 trayed, by the soft arts of luxury and effeminacy, into the 
 pit digged for your destruction. Despise the glare of wealth. 
 That people, who pay a greater respect to a wealthy villain, 
 than to an honest, upright man in poverty, ahnost deserve 
 to be enslaved ; they plainly show, that wealth, however it 
 may be acquired, is, in their esteem, to be preferred to 
 virtue. 
 
 But I thank God, that America abounds in men who are 
 superior to all temptation, whom nothing can divert from a 
 steady pursuit of the interest of their country ; who are at 
 once its ornament and safeguard. And sure I am, I should 
 not incur your displeasure, if I paid a respect, so justly due 
 to their much honored characters, in this place. But when 
 I name an Adams, such a numerous host of fellow-patriots 
 rush upon my mind, that I fear it would take up too much of 
 your time, should I attempt to call over the illustrious roll. 
 But your grateful hearts will point you to the men ; and their 
 revered names, in all succeeding times, shall grace the an- 
 nals of America. From them, let us, my friends, take ex- 
 ample ; from them, let us catch the divine enthusiasm ; and 
 feel, each for himself, the godlike pleasure of diffusing hap-
 
 AT BOSTON. 55 
 
 piness on all around us ; of delivering the oppressed from 
 the iron grasp of tyranny ; of changing the hoarse com- 
 plaints and bitter moans of wretched slaves into those 
 cheerful songs, which freedom and contentment must inspire. 
 There is a heartfelt satisfaction in reflecting on our exer- 
 tions for the public weal, which all the sufferings an enraged 
 tyrant can inflict, will never take away ; which the in- 
 gratitude and reproaches of those whom we have saved from 
 ruin, cannot rob us of. The virtuous asserter of the rishts 
 of mankind merits a reward, which even a want of success 
 in his endeavors to save his country, the heaviest misfor- 
 tune which can befall a genuine patriot, cannot entirely pre- 
 vent him from receiving. 
 
 I have the most animating confidence, that the present 
 noble struggle for liberty ; will terminate gloriously for A- 
 merica. And let us play the man for our God, and for the 
 cities of our God ; while we are using the means in our pow- 
 er, let us humbly commit our righteous cause to the great 
 Lord of the universe, who loveth righteousness and hateth 
 iniquity. And having secured the approbation of our hearts, 
 by a faithful and unwearied discharge of our duty to our 
 country, let us joyfully leave our concerns in the hands of 
 Him who raiseth up and putteth down the empires and king, 
 doms of the world as He pleases ; and with cheerful submis- 
 sion to His sovereign will, devoutly say, " Although the fig- 
 tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the 
 labor of the olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no meat ; 
 the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no 
 herd in the stalls ; yet we will rejoice in the Lord, we will 
 joy in the God of our salvation."
 
 EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH, 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE CONVENTION FOR THE PROVINCE 
 OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 BY JAMES WILSON. 
 
 Mr. Chairmajj, 
 Whence, sir, proceeds all the invidious and ill-grounded 
 clamor against the colonists of America ? Why are they 
 stigmatized in Britain, as licentious and ungovernable? 
 Why is their virtuous opposition to the illegal attempts of 
 their governors, represented under the falsest colors, and 
 placed in the most ungracious point of view ? This oppo- 
 sition, when exhibited in its true light, and when viewed, 
 with unjaundiced eyes, from a proper situation, and at a 
 proper distance, stands confessed the lovely offspring of 
 freedom. It breathes the spirit of its parent. Of this ethe- 
 real spirit, the whole conduct, and particularly the late con- 
 duct of the colonists, has shown them eminently possessed. 
 It has animated and regulated every part of their proceed- 
 ings. It has been recognized to be genuine, by all those 
 symptoms and effects, by which it has been distinguished in 
 other ages and other countries. It has been calm and regu- 
 lar : it has not acted without occasion : it has not acted 
 disproportionably to the occasion. As the attempts, open 
 or secret, to undermine or to destroy it, have been repeated 
 or enforced ; in a just degree, its vigilance and its vigor have 
 been exerted to defeat or to disappoint them. As its exer- 
 tions have been sufficient for those purposes hitherto, let us 
 hence draw a joyful prognostic, that they will continue suf- 
 ficient for those purposes hereafter. It is not yet exhausted j
 
 WILSOx's SPEECH. 57 
 
 it will still operate irresistibly whenever a necessary occa- 
 sion shall call forth its strength. 
 
 Permit me, sir, by appealing, in a few instances, to the 
 spirit and conduct of the colonists, to evince, that what I 
 have said of them is just. Did they disclose any uneasiness 
 at the proceedings and claims of the British parliament, be- 
 fore those claims and proceedings afforded a reasonable cause 
 for it ? Did they even disclose any uneasiness, when a rea- 
 sonable cause for it was first given ? Our rights were inva- 
 ded by their regulations of our internal policy. We sub- 
 mitted to them : we were unwilling to oppose them. The 
 spirit of liberty was slow to act. When those invasions 
 were renewed ; when the efficacy and malignancy of them 
 were attempted to be redoubled by the stamp act ; when 
 chains were formed for us ; and preparations were made for 
 rivetting them on our limbs, Avhat measures did we pursue ? 
 The spirit of liberty found it necessary now to act : but she 
 acted with the calmness and decent dignity suited to her 
 character. Were we rash or seditious ? Did we discover 
 want of loyalty to our sovereign ? Did we betray want of 
 affection to our brethren in Britain ? Let our dutiful and 
 reverential petitions to the throne — let our respectful, though 
 firm, remonstrances to the parliament — let our warm and 
 affectionate addresses to our brethren, and (we will still call 
 them,) our friends in Great Britain — let all those, transmit- 
 ted from every part of the continent, testify the truth. By 
 their testimony let our conduct be tried. 
 
 As our proceedings, during the existence and operation of 
 the stamp act, prove fully and incontestably the painful sen- 
 sations that tortured our breasts from the prospect of disun- 
 ion with Britain ; the peals of joy, which burst forth univer- 
 sally, upon the repeal of that odious statute, loudly proclaim 
 the heartfelt delight produced in us by a reconciliation with 
 her. Unsuspicious, because undesigning, we buried our 
 complaints and the causes of them, in oblivion, and returned, 
 with eagerness, to our former unreserved confidence. Our
 
 58 Wilson's speech in 
 
 connexion with our parent country, and the reciprocal bles- 
 sings resulting from it to her and to us, were the favorite 
 and pleasing topics of our public discourses and our private 
 conversations. Lulled into delightful security, we dreamed 
 of nothing but increasing fondness and friendship, cemented 
 and strengthened by a kind and perpetual communication of 
 good offices. Soon, however, too soon, were we awakened 
 from the soothing dreams ! Our enemies renewed their de- 
 signs against us, not with less malice, but with more art. — 
 Under the plausible pretence of regulating our trade, and, at 
 the same time, of making provision for the administration of 
 justice and the support of government, in some of the colo- 
 nies, they pursued their scheme of depriving us of our pro- 
 perty without our consent. As the attempts to distress us, 
 and to degrade us to a rank inferior to that of freemen, ap- 
 peared now to be reduced into a regular system, it became 
 proper, on our part, to form a regular system for counterac- 
 ting them. We ceased to import goods from Great Britain. 
 Was this measure dictated by selfishness or by licentious- 
 ness ? Did it not injure ourselves, while it injured the British 
 merchants' and manufacturers? Was it inconsistent with 
 the peaceful demeanor of subjects to abstain from making 
 purchases, when our freedom and our safety rendered it ne- 
 cessary for us to abstain from them ? A regard for our free- 
 dom and our safety was our only motive ; for no sooner had 
 the parliament, by repealing part of the revenue laws, in- 
 spired us with the flattering hopes, that they had departed 
 from their intentions of oppressing and of taxing us, than 
 we forsook our plan for defeating those intentions, and be- 
 gan to import as formerly. Far from being peevish or cap- 
 tious, we took no public notice even of their declaratory law 
 of dominion over us : our candor led us to consider it as a 
 decent expedient of retreating from the actual exercise of 
 that dominion. 
 
 But, alas ! the root of bitterness still remained. The 
 duty on tea was reserved to furnish occasion to the ministry
 
 VINDICATION OF THE COLONIES. 59 
 
 for a new effort to enslave and to ruin us ; and the East In- 
 dia Company were chosen, and consented to be the de- 
 tested instruments of ministerial despotism and cruehy. A 
 cargo of their tea arrived at Boston. By a low artifice of 
 the governor, and by the wicked activity of the tools of gov- 
 ernment, it was rendered impossible to store it up, or to send 
 it back, as was done at other places. A number of persons, 
 unknown, destroyed it. 
 
 Let us here make a concession to our enemies : let us sup- 
 pose, that the transaction deserves all the dark and hideous 
 colors, in which they have painted it : let us even suppose, 
 (for our cause admits of an excess of candor,) that all their 
 exaggerated accounts of it were confined strictly to the 
 truth : what will follow ? Will it follow, that every British 
 colony in America, or even the colony of Massachusetts Bay, 
 or even the town of Boston, in that colony, merits the impu- 
 tation of being factious and seditious ? Let the frequent 
 mobs and riots, that have happened in Great Britain, upon 
 much more trivial occasions, shame our calumniators into 
 silence. Will it follow, because the rules of order and regu- 
 lar government were, in that instance, violated by the offen- 
 ders, that, for this reason, the principles of the constitution, 
 and the maxims of justice, must be violated by their punish- 
 ment ? Will it follow, because those who were guilty could 
 not be known, that, therefore, those, who were known not to 
 be guilty, must suffer ? Will it follow, that even the guil- 
 ty should be condemned without being heard — that they 
 should be condemned upon partial testimony, upon the 
 representations of their avowed and embittered enemies ? 
 Why were they not tried in courts of justice, known to their 
 constitution, and by juries of their neighborhood ? Their 
 courts and their juries were not, in the case of captain Pres- 
 ton, transported beyond the bounds of justice by their resent- 
 ment : why, then, should it be presumed, that, in the case of 
 those offenders, they would be prevented from doing justice 
 by their affection ? But the colonists, it seems, must be
 
 60 WILSO>'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. 
 
 — e<Q©— 
 
 1. The extent of our country renders the efficient super- 
 vision of our laws impossible, without a vigorous and all- 
 pervading tone of intelligence and moral principle. Our 
 interests are, in fact, one ; but our vision is limited, and our 
 information imperfect, and our selfishness and pride, and 
 passion are great, and impatient of self-denial, and contra- 
 diction; and misinformation, and jealousy, and local preju- 
 dice are of spontaneous growth, and, with the sinister cul- 
 ture of reckless ambition, of rampant vegetation. 
 
 When, therefore, we consider the vigor of our national 
 intellect — the freedom of our habits — the self-will and self, 
 sufficiency of our republican character — our boundless en- 
 terprise, our corrupting abundance, and voluptuous dissipa- 
 tion, and fractious impatience of rebuke or control — is this 
 a nation, so fearfully and wonderfully made, and so eminently 
 fitted for self-destruction, to say unto God, " depart from us, 
 for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways?" and to 
 Christ, " let us alone, thou Jesus of Nazareth, for what have 
 we to do with thee ?" 
 
 Our danger is greatly augmented ifwe consider, moreover, 
 that beside the collisions of individuals, with law and order, 
 some of our most perilous movements are the conflicts of inde- 
 pendent states — of mighty nations, condensed for particular 
 purposes into one nation, by the individual suffrage of the 
 entire people ; and that often one half the nation is roused
 
 beecher's sermon. 173 
 
 in furious political strife, to counteract the desires of the 
 other half. 
 
 Now, what motives of human origin and application can 
 extend their all-pervading and efficient control over such a 
 mass of mind, so diversified by circumstances, and so deli- 
 cately, and complexly, and slenderly allied, and so infuriated 
 often by passion, pride, and discontent ? 
 
 Who but God can speak efficaciously to the waves of such 
 an unquiet sea ? What but the omnipotent attractions of 
 his glory, and the sanctions of his eternal government, and 
 the tranquillizing influence of his gospel upon renovated 
 mind, can bring and hold such discordant and powerful ma- 
 terials in prosperous social alliance ? These atheists might 
 as well form a project to annihilate the sun, and hold t"hc 
 material vmiverse together by cobv/ebs instead of his attrac- 
 tions, as to withdraw from masses of depraved mind the 
 moral influence of his government and the institutions of 
 Christianity. 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that our union was 
 formed. Nothing but an urgent necessity, and wisdom, 
 and prudence, and patience, and condescension, and confi- 
 dence in God, and his protection and blessing, saved us. 
 When our numbers were small, our extent limited, our 
 capital, and credit, and enterprise in embryo ; and at an 
 age of relative purity of morals, and before the agitations of 
 party spirit assumed their fiery aspect, and terrific power, 
 the patriots whom nature and the revolution had made great, 
 and invested with unlimited influence, found it extremely 
 difficult to achieve the compromise that made us one. And 
 when it was done, it was with trembling that the patriot 
 navigators, with Washington at the helm, launched forth 
 upon the untried deep ; and though, as yet, we have not 
 foundered, not one of the patriot band have died in full and 
 ccrtnin hope. Nor is the danger past. Dark clouds environ 
 our horizon now, and rocks and quicksands arc about our 
 
 way. Our ablest captains, who in ordinary times conceal 
 15*
 
 174 beeciier's sermon ojt 
 
 their fears, open their eyes and tell us that there are breakers, 
 and a stiff wind, and a lee shore, and that they cannot be 
 answerable for the safety of the ship. That she will weather 
 the storm they hope, but fear that in evil hour she may strike 
 or founder. The concussions of party spirit now, are not 
 the healthful conflicts of jealous liberty, but the paroxysms 
 of envy, and desperate ambition, and deadly hate — not the 
 breath of zephyrs, and the gentle undulations of the lake, to 
 prevent stagnation ; but the perilous commotion of powerful 
 elements. What, then, in such a crisis, might not be anti- 
 cipated, should a band of these political experimenters get 
 on board, and gain the helm, on purpose to wreck the ship, 
 to re-construct from its fragments another of better model, 
 and to be navigated under better auspices, — to throw over- 
 board compass, quadrant, and chart, and put out the sun to 
 steer by conjecture and the stars ? What if they are chi- 
 merical, and honest ? How many misguided men aboard 
 does it require to wreck a ship in a storm ? 
 
 The unexampled power and prosperity of our nation, does 
 but amplify, and hasten, and render more inevitable the 
 causes of our ruin, without the correspending moral influ- 
 ence of the government of God. 
 
 Steam has, indeed, annihilated time and distance, and 
 canals and rail roads have exalted the valleys, and brought 
 down the mountains ; and mechanism, by its abbreviations of 
 labor, is relaxing the curse on beast and man, and multiply- 
 ing a hundred fold the products of human labor. 
 
 But if other republics, on their little territories, and in 
 their dilatory course, accumulated the means of effeminacy 
 and ruin in a few generations, how swiftly must our sun roll 
 up to its meridian, to set among the clouds generated by the 
 decomposition of our rank abundance ! 
 
 Nor let us confide presumptuously in the sufficiency of a 
 national education. For though ignorance may destroy us, 
 knowledge alone cannot save. Knowledge is, indeed, pow- 
 er ; but it is power to kill as well as to make alive, as it is
 
 THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. 175 
 
 wielded by the madness of the heart, or by moral principle. 
 The men who terrified the world bv their crimes, did not 
 lack mental culture. 
 
 It is the heart which governs the intellect, and not the 
 intellect which governs the heart ; and it is by the education 
 of the national heart, in the first principles of the govern- 
 ment of God, and the guidance of the national will, by the 
 hopes and fears of eternity, added to the sanctions of time, 
 that we can undergird the ship, and secure to her a safe pas- 
 sage and quiet moorings. 
 
 2. The very greatness of our liberty is its most terrific 
 attribute, in the presence of organized licentiousness and 
 demoralization. 
 
 In a despotic government, force may protect us, where 
 public sentiment is too corrupt to secure the execution of 
 the laws. But in a republic it is not so. There, when pub- 
 lic sentiment falters, the laws have no power ; and then, first 
 anarch}^ and next despotism ensues. The genius of our 
 government, and the competitions of party have introduced 
 universal suffrage. The door is wide open to all Avho are 
 born, and to all who immigrate, and cannot be shut. We 
 must live by universal suffrage or perish. If we can imbue 
 with knowledge and virtue the mass, we shall live ; but if 
 irreligion and profligacy predominate, sure as the march of 
 time, we fail. Such mobs among us, as in England they play 
 with as the lion would play with the kid, would destroy us. 
 Force enough to quell them, would, in the hand of an ambi- 
 tious demagogue, be foi'ce enough to enslave us. Ours must 
 be a self-government or despotism. Such a nation as this 
 must be greatly free, or crushed by the most rigorous des- 
 potism that ever extorted groans from suffering humanity. 
 Do any exult in our safety, and bid defiance to disaster, 
 because we are now so free and so powerful ? — The inconstant 
 ocean might as well exult in her momentary tranquillity, be- 
 cause her waves are above control ; when it is the very
 
 176 BEECnER's SERMON ON 
 
 circumstance of their freedom and indomitable power which 
 gives to the atmosphere such power upon the fluid mass. 
 
 Twice, in France, the physical power has gained the 
 ascendency over law ; and by the last victory, the discovery 
 has been made, that to patriots, cities are fortresses, and 
 pavements munitions. This is one of the most glorious and 
 dreadful discoveries of modern days — glorious in its ultimate 
 results, in the emancipation of the world, but dreadful in those 
 intervening revolutions which power may achieve in the 
 conquest of liberty, without corresponding intelligence and 
 virtue for its permanent preservation. 
 
 The conquest of liberty is not difficult — the question is, 
 where to put it — with whom to entrust it. If to the multitude 
 who achieved it, it be committed, it will perish by anarchy. 
 If national guards are employed for its defence, the bayonets 
 which protect it are at any moment able to destroy it for a 
 miUtary despotism. If to a republican king it be entrusted, 
 it will have to be regulated by state policy, and fed on bread 
 and water, until the action of her heart, and the movement 
 of her tongue, and the power of her arm, as under the deadly 
 incubus, shall cease. There is not in this wide world 
 A safe deposit for liberty, bit the hearts of 
 
 PATRIOTS, so enlightened, AS TO BE ABLE TO JUDGE OF 
 CORRECT LEGISLATION, AND SO PATIENT AND DISINTER- 
 ESTED, AS TO PRACTICE SELF-DENIAL, AND SELF-GOVERN- 
 MENT, FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD. 
 
 But can such a state of society be found and maintained 
 without the bible, and the institutions of Christianity ? Did 
 a condition of unperverted liberty, uninspii-ed by christi- 
 anity, ever bless the world through any considerable period 
 of duration ? The power of a favoring clime, and the force 
 of genius, did thrust up from the dead level of monotonous 
 despotism, the republics of Greece to a temporary liberty ; 
 but it was a patent model only, compared with such a nation 
 as this ; and it was partial, and capricious, and of short du- 
 ration, and rendered illustrious rather by the darkness which
 
 THE PERILS OF ATIIEIS3I. 177 
 
 preceded and followed, than by the benign influence of its 
 own beams. 
 
 Certainly it is Christianity which, in this country, rocked 
 the cradle of our liberties, defended our youth, and brought 
 us up to manhood. And it has been proved that under her 
 auspices three millions and twelve millions of people may be 
 protected and governed. But that twenty, fifty, or a hun- 
 dred millions can, without a vast augmentation of her moral 
 power over mind, has not been proved — while all past analo- 
 gies, and all present circumstances of our nation announce 
 that Christianity is our best hope, and that without it our 
 destruction does not slumber. 
 
 During all past ages, the vast majority of the human fam- 
 ily, unblest by revelation, have been idolaters and slaves ; 
 and at the present time, all nations upon whom the sun of 
 righteousness has not arisen, are in deep darkness, and are 
 crushed by grievous despotism. DayUght is not more uni- 
 formly found in the track of the sun, than civil liberty is 
 found in the track of Christianity, and despotism in its ab- 
 sence. 
 
 The problem then to be settled by this young and mighty 
 nation, is this — can a sufficient intellectual illumination be 
 combined with a sufficient power of moral purity, to cre- 
 ate and perpetuate, a predominant and efficacious public 
 sentiment in favor of a correct morality, and efficient 
 law for the protection of virtue, and the punishment 
 of crime? If this can be achieved, the nation will be 
 the safe depository of liberty for ever. The heart of this 
 mighty people will be its abiding sanctuary, and the arm of 
 this nation, uncorrupt and undebased, will, under God, be 
 its everlasting protection ; and we shall be the greatest, hap- 
 piest nation that ever hved. Violence shall not be heard 
 in our land, nor wasting and destruction within our borders. 
 Our walls will be salvation, and our gates will be praise. Our 
 sun will not go down, nor our moon wane. The Lord will 
 be our unsetting sun, and our God will be our glory.
 
 178 BEECIIEr's SER3I0J; ON 
 
 We shall not appreciate the danger of an organized effort 
 against our civil and religious institutions, without consider- 
 ing the various bad affinities of our depraved nature, upon 
 which they may easily act, and bring them into unconscious 
 subserviency to their purpose. 
 
 It cannot be denied that human nature lusteth to envv. 
 No passions in man arc more powerful than selfishness, and 
 pride, and inordinate desire and discontent. These were 
 the origin of the contest between the patricians and plebians 
 in Rome, which continually agitated, and at length destroy- 
 ed the republic. It is a distinction in society inseparable 
 from the diverse capacities, characters, habits and employ- 
 ments of men in the different departments of labor, Vihich 
 are indispensable to the most elevated possible condition of 
 society. It exists in every republic, and no doubt it is a 
 constitution of things inseparable from the intelUgent perfect 
 society of the universe. 
 
 But it is a constitution of providence against which re- 
 bellion has rolled its most furious tide ; and especially, as the 
 inequality of conditions is aggravated by crime among un- 
 informed masses, goaded by suffering, and reckless of prin- 
 ciple, it constitutes a most malignant and terrific physical 
 power, looking up with green eyed envy upon all the happy 
 fruits of virtue, and knowledge, and industry in the orders of 
 society above. 
 
 None who have not moved through this moral atmosphere, 
 and watched the eye, and noted the significant tones of 
 complaint, and movements of subdued but bitter feeling, can 
 conceive what a magazine lies under the foundations of all 
 which is valuable to man. 
 
 This jealousy of the higher orders of society is especially 
 powerful against the rich — it is almost like the ceaseless 
 burning of heated iron. There is pervading the entire class 
 of relative poverty a strong feeling of dissatisfaction, as if 
 they were injured, and as if the rich were the aggressors,
 
 THE PEUILS OF ATUEISM. 179 
 
 and were revelling on the spoils which had been wrested 
 I'roni them. 
 
 The various forms of dishonesty, and peculation, and fraud, 
 and violence, are but so many symptomatic indications of 
 the impatient violence which, but for the strong arm of the 
 law, would break out in one levelling prostration of all which 
 art, and industry and science have reared up. 
 
 With the constant admonition, that this state of feehn"- 
 is wrong — that inequality of condition is inseparable from 
 the best possible constitution of society — that its miseries 
 are adventitious, from the perversion of heaven's wisdom 
 and goodness, yet w ithout intellectual perversion — with the 
 understanding and conscience armed against such feelings 
 —with the omniscient eye of God on the heart, and his voi"ce 
 reiterating, be still, and know that I am God — with his 
 sword drawn, and his lightnings at hand, and his thunder- 
 ings uttering their voices, and all the retributions of time 
 and eternity impending, it is as much as can be done to 
 prevent explosion, and revolution, and more than is done to 
 protect Ufe, and liberty, and property. 
 
 The constancy of peculation in trade — the ingenuity of 
 swindlers, and pick-pockets — the dexterity of theft — the vio- 
 lence of robbery, and the increasing recklessness of murder, 
 show what, as the government of God falls back, is rising up 
 and rushing in upon us — show that the mountain is unquiet, 
 and that these doctrines of atheistic levelling liberty, are 
 like so many sparks faUing upon a train already prepared 
 for an explosion, and waiting only for the moment of igni- 
 tion. 
 
 Who that has to deal with property, and those who covet, 
 does not know the strong fever which burns beneath the 
 restraints of law ? How much would any man well versed 
 in the ways of men, give for his outstanding debts, of which 
 he could produce no evidence, or which the laws sustained 
 by executive power could not collect ? The relations of 
 civilized society, and separate property, could not exist an
 
 180 beecher's sermon on 
 
 hour after public sentiment, and the physical power had 
 ceased to sustain the laws. 
 
 Let this pestilent philosophy, then, augment the moral 
 obliquity of the lower classes of society, by adding the 
 sanction of principle to their perverted, impatient, aUenated 
 feeling. Let private property and inequaUty of condition 
 be stigmatized as an artilicial condition, — the work of priests 
 and lawyers — of church and state — a vile civil and ecclesi- 
 astical aristocracy. Let the laws be traduced as systems 
 of organized injustice and vile persecution ; and the sooth- 
 ing accents of sympathy and hope be breathed upon the ear 
 of suffering humanity by these dear lovers of the people. 
 Let them inculcate on every heart the people's wrongs, and 
 their own magnanimous sympathy. Let their voice be 
 heard without — at the corners of the streets — at the chief 
 places of concourse — at the opening of the gates, and in 
 all the places of strong drink and inebriation, and sinks of 
 pollution, and infamy, and wo — ascribing their sufferings to 
 priestcraft, and property, and marriage, and virtue, and law. 
 Let them flatter the multitude for virtues which they do not 
 possess, and eulogize as virtues their rank crimes — puttino- 
 light for darkness and darkness for light. Let them praise 
 one another, and denounce all whose concord with them does 
 not promise aid to their project. Let them bargain their 
 suffrage to ambitious demagogues, who care not by what 
 ladder they rise or what is demolished, provided they as- 
 cend — upon condition that one good turn shall be repaid by 
 another — until by collusion, and the concentration of evil 
 forces, they gain the balance in some closely contested elec- 
 tion, with a sufficient mass of corrupt propensity, and evil 
 daring, and infatuated madness, to seize the moment to let 
 out their experiment. Then, indeed, it will be but for a 
 moment. But that moment would be the downfall of liberty, 
 and the overturnings of revolution, and the infuriated pour- 
 ing out of blood. It will be but a moment, and the indigna- 
 tion will have passed over ; but like the inundation, it will 
 find a paradise, and leave behind it an utter desolation.
 
 THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. 181 
 
 If you think that such a crisis cannot come on our coun- 
 try, you have not studied the constitution of society, the 
 character of man, the past history of moral causes, or the 
 existing signs of the times. You have not read the glowing 
 pages of specious argument, of powerful eloquence, of spirit- 
 stirring indignation — pouring adventitious action upon the 
 fever of the brain, and the madness of the heart. 
 
 Hear these Catilines harangue their troops, in the 500,000 
 grogshops of the nation — the temples and inspiration of 
 atheistic worship : — " Comrades, patriots, friends, — The 
 time has come. Long have you suffered, and deeply, and 
 in all sorts of ways. Property has been denied you, that 
 others might roll in splendor ; and toil imposed, that they 
 might inherit ease ; and poverty inflicted, that they might 
 be blessed with more than heart could wish ; and to add ig. 
 nomy to fraud, and persecution to insult, your names are 
 cast out as evil. You snatch the crumbs from their table, 
 and they call it stealing. The momentary alleviation of 
 your woes by stimulus, drunkenness ; and your intercourse as 
 freeborn animals, is branded with outlawry and burning 
 shame ; and all this by that intolerant aristocracy of wealth, 
 religion and law. You are miserable, and you are oppress- 
 ed ; but you hold in your own hand the power of redress. 
 Those splendid dwellings, and glittering equipages — those 
 cultivated farms and cattle on a thousand hills — those barns, 
 bursting out with all manner of plenty — those voluptuous 
 cities, and stores, crowded with merchandize — and boats 
 and ships transporting wealth — and those banks and vaults 
 of gold are yours. You are the people — numbers are with 
 you. Rise, freemen — rise — to the polls— -to the polls — and 
 all is yours." 
 
 It is true this levelling system would destroy the industry 
 of the world. It would augment the number, and aggra- 
 vate the poverty of the poor, as it would expel the arts, ban- 
 ish commerce, stop the plough, and shut up the work-shop, 
 and send back the ruined race to skins, and bows, and arrows, 
 16
 
 182 BEECHER^S SERMON ON 
 
 But what is all this to a short-sighted, infuriated population, 
 who know only that they are miserable, and feel that all 
 above them is invidious distinction and crime ; and that to 
 rise, it is only necessary to grasp the pillars of society, 
 and pull it down? Is there no treason in breathing such 
 doctrines upon the ear of discontented millions? It is 
 throwing firebrands into a magazine. 
 
 The numbers to whom these men and their doctrines have 
 access, are not duly considered by those who think that 
 there is no danger. To the uninformed population of our 
 cities, and mechanical and manufacturing establishments, 
 as well as to our sparse frontier settlements, they pay a se- 
 dulous attention, teaching inebriation, and lust, and impiety, 
 by caricature and the eye, as well as by the ear. 
 
 To all the vicious, incensed by the outlawry of public sen- 
 timent, they send the tokens of their sympathy, the manuals 
 of their instruction, and the trumpet-call to action, with un- 
 faltering confidence of their aid. 
 
 Upon all the wretched young men, whom pleasure has 
 seduced from the right way, and stung to madness and des- 
 peration by loss of character and blighted hopes, such as 
 Catiline drew after him to overthrow the liberties of Rome, 
 they may calculate, without danger of deception. 
 
 While the covetous, who live by the vices of the communi- 
 ty, and fear that we are going too fast, without intending 
 the extremities which come, may aid to bring them on be- 
 yond retrieve. 
 
 Nominal believers, from great aversion to the accounta- 
 bilities of an endless government, and punishment, may, from 
 repulsion on the one hand, and sympathetic attractions on 
 the other, be made more than neutral, while the forces are 
 collecting, and the conflict is coming on. 
 
 And all who regard (he bible as a dangerous book for pop- 
 ular use, might aid the common eflbrt of restricting its 
 circulation, and putting down rival denominations — intend- 
 ing only their own benefit, but unable as the crisis rolled on 
 to stop the overpowering evil.
 
 THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. 
 
 183 
 
 The direct and indirect influence, then, of this poisonous 
 leaven, industriously propagated, and favored by human na- 
 ture, and the multipUed coincidences of character, interest, 
 and circumstance, cannot be small, or be safely despised. 
 
 But if to this onward movement of concentrated power, 
 you add the systematic effort which is making to break down 
 the moral resistances of the community, and to open an un- 
 obstructed admission to the flood, our solicitude may well 
 increase. 
 
 Th3 natural course of business and pleasure, in its bearings 
 upon the sabbath, is sufficiently appalling. This day is, no 
 doubt, the great organ of the divine administration. It is 
 of little consequence whether men disbeUeve the existence 
 of God, or forget his character and laws, and authority. 
 But separate from the sabbath and social worship, no effica. 
 cious means exist for the religious instruction of mankind ; 
 and the cessation of the sabbath is the abolition of the gov- 
 ernment of God as really as could be effected by the disbe- 
 lief of his being. 
 
 But this dreadful work of obliteration, unplanned and un- 
 designed, is going on as fast almost as atheism could desire. 
 The stream of commerce on our seacoast is now swelled by 
 the streams of dissipation which pour out from our cities, as 
 from inexhaustible fountains, and by the streams of business, 
 private and national, M'hich hold on their unchecked and 
 auffmentinc career — while our inland seas, and canals, and 
 our stages, and the steamboats, and the rail-roads, in all di- 
 rections, seem to vie with each other in their all-pervading 
 and lengthened career of sabbath day violation. Alas ! the 
 whole nation seems to be on the sabbath in a state of mi- 
 gration, and never in one stay — the sanctuary empty, and 
 every stage, and boat, and tavern full. Who can arrest and 
 instruct this mass of vagrant migrating mind — and who 
 train up the children of the nation, abandoned to ignorance 
 and irreligion ? Could the nation be intellectually educated, 
 were all its instructors, and all its pupils driving about on 
 wheels and boats, in hours consecrated to study ? And can
 
 184 beechek's sekmon on 
 
 the nation be instructed in the government of God, and its 
 own relative duties and responsibiUties, by the way side, or 
 on the canal, or the lake — running unceasingly the race of 
 business and pleasure ? Assuredly this mighty nation can- 
 not be compelled by law to stop and consecrate the sabbath 
 to the great and benevolent ends of its institution. But it 
 is equally certain, that if it will not voluntarily pause, and 
 do homage to the wisdom and benevolence of God, by a 
 spontaneous rest for purposes of religious education, and 
 moral culture, the nation is undone. Europe never will be 
 qualified for liberty until she keeps her sabbaths in a better 
 manner ; and this happy nation will not long possess any 
 thing to be envied above the kingdoms of Europe, after tie 
 influence of her sabbaths has passed away. 
 
 But as if the fates did not turn the spindle fast enough 
 which unrolls our destiny, and lets us down, these conspira- 
 tors, aided inconsiderately by multitudes, who know not 
 their purpose, are turning a systematic jealousy upon the 
 sabbath and its friends. The observance of it, by our fathers 
 and ourselves, in the only way in which its great designs 
 can be answered, is ridiculed ; our solicitude for its preser- 
 vation stigmatized as sainted hypocrisy ; our meek suppli- 
 cations and reasonings against its legalized violation, ad- 
 duced as pregnant evidence of conspiracy against our coun- 
 try's liberty. * * * h< * h: * 
 
 I cannot close this lecture without calling around me, in 
 imagination, and with feelings of great respect and affection, 
 the laboring classes of this nation, whose religious and poli- 
 tical faith, these men would subvert. 
 
 My beloved countrymen : — if there is an eye in the uni- 
 verse that pities you, or a heart that feels for you, or a hand 
 stretched out for you7' protection especially — it is the eye, 
 and the heart and the hand of heaven — it is your cause, that 
 the christian revelation espouses. No other religion ever 
 cared for the common people, ever brought them within the 
 reach of instruction, or ever elevated them to intelHgence 
 and competence and virtue. In all Pagan, Mahometan, and
 
 THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. 185 
 
 Papal lands, they are in deep darkness and in chains, be- 
 neath grievous burthens. It is the bible and the sabbath, 
 and the preaching of the gospel, and the schools, and the 
 virtue, and the enterprise, and the equality, which Christian- 
 ity creates, which dispels the darkness, and opens the prison 
 door, and knocks ofT the cliains, and breaks off the yoke, and 
 takes off the burdens, which have in all nations and ages 
 been the lot of persons in your condition. 
 
 Infidels are republicans in theory and in tongue, but not 
 in deed and in truth. They are not your friends ; but God 
 is your friend. He has predicted and projected, and will 
 accomplish your elevation. Jesus Christ is your friend. 
 He was born of virtuous and industrious parents, in humble 
 life ; he performed your labors, felt your cares, bore in his 
 own body your sorrows, and can be and is touched with the 
 feeling of your infirmities. He knows how to emancipate, 
 and elevate you, and mitigate the curse which has for ages 
 rested so heavily upon you. But these infidel philosophers 
 are bUnd, ignorant, untaught, and unteachable masters ; 
 who, while they promise you liberty, are themselves the ser- 
 vants of sin ; and while they offer to raise you, will thrust 
 you down to deeper poverty, and reckless animalism, and 
 wretchedness. 
 
 What nation have they ever emancipated, but by a revo- 
 lution, more terrific than despotism? What well ordered 
 republic have they ever formed and maintained a single year ? 
 What community have they enlightened and purified ? 
 Where are the schools and colleges, for the sons of the poor, 
 which they have founded ? What single family have they 
 blessed with pure affections, and augmented industry, and 
 domestic peace ? What single heart have they ever made 
 better by the extinction of evil passions, and the nurture of 
 benevolence ? What vicious man have they reclaimed, what 
 poor man have they made rich, what miserable man have 
 they sustained by their philosophy, in life or in death ? 
 
 Well meaning they may be, but it is the well meaning ot 
 16*
 
 186 beecher's sermon on 
 
 ignorant and foolish men — ignorant of the bible, ignorant 
 of history, ignorant of human nature, and those moral causes 
 which have always been auspicious or pernicious — not 
 knowing what they say, or whereof they affirm. Reckless 
 are they of their own and of your best good ; wanton, rash, 
 and desperate are they in their experiments ; mofal maniacs, 
 more utterly bereft of common sense than any other class 
 of men who ever set up for guides and challenged confidence. 
 The evidence cannot be heightened of the falsehood and 
 folly of their system. Should they propose a system of ag- 
 riculture, which reversed every one of the known principles 
 of natural philosophy, it would not surpass the violence 
 which their system does to the equally well known, and 
 established laws of mind, society, and moral government. 
 That righteousness, such as they despise, exalteth a nation, 
 and sin, such as they eulogize, is the destruction of a people, 
 is as certain as the laws of vision or of gravity. 
 
 It is hard to elevate the mass, and harder to sustain, and 
 none but by the help of God and his institutions have been 
 able to do it. Christianity is the world's last hope for civil 
 liberty ; if this will not diversify the results of national pros- 
 perity, then are we with rapid strides making for the preci- 
 pice, and preparing to bid a long farewell to all our liberty. 
 You must reject these evil counsellors. You must appreciate 
 the bible, or you and yours will soon fall back into that state 
 of hopeless ignorance and poverty, and vice, from which 
 there is no resurrection. The priestcraft which has dark- 
 ened and enslaved the world, is one which has rejected or 
 sequestered the bible : not that which gave it to the common 
 people, and preached the gospel to the poor. It is christi- 
 anity which introduces universal liberty, which equalizes 
 and elevates, and it is its absence which puts you down. 
 The conspiracy against your liberties is forming by those 
 who would banish you from the day of rest, and intellectual 
 and moral improvement, and doom you and your families to 
 toil seven days instead of six without the least increase of 
 remuneration. This it is which will unintellectualize the
 
 THE PERILS OF ATHEISM. 187 
 
 laboring classes, and throw them back into the distance be- 
 yond the light of hope, and the reach of successful competi- 
 tion. If you wish to be free indeed, you must be virtuous, 
 temperate, well instructed, with the door of honor and profit 
 open to you and to your children. As the sun draws up the 
 whole body of the ocean it passes over, raising the tide in 
 the career of his glorious way, so will the sun of righteous- 
 ness take hold of you and your families and raise them up, 
 and bring them within the constant attraction of hope and 
 virtue. Those who wish for the preservation of the sabbath, 
 are not bigots ; they do not seek a union of church and 
 state ; they seek the unextinguished lustre of that moral sun 
 for your sake, who with it will rise and without it will .go 
 down to where all the laboring classes of the world have 
 been, and now are — whom the bible and the sabbath have 
 not emancipated and elevated. 
 
 It is the agriculturists, merchants, manufacturers and day 
 laborers, of the nation, who must decide its destiny. It is 
 your hearts that must be the sanctuary of liberty ; and your 
 conscience that must stand sentinel, to pi-event her perver- 
 sion, and your bodies that must constitute a rampart around 
 those holy and blessed institutions of heaven, which God has 
 given to man in the bible — whose blessings our fathers with 
 toil and blood put in motion, and which with augmenting 
 prosperity, at every step, have come down and are now rolling 
 around us like the waves of the sea : blessinors which urffe 
 themselves upon us, and from which we cannot flee, and whose 
 blest intrusion we cannot resist, but by taking counsel once 
 more to break the bands of Christ, and cast away his cords 
 from us. We need not petition congress to spare the sabbath ; 
 if they do, the people can desecrate the sacred day — the peo- 
 ple must decide, each man for himself and his family, whether 
 he will live under the government of God, and enjoy its sun- 
 shine, and breathe its liberty, and be elevated by its power 
 and sanctified by its purity, and blessed by its exuberant, 
 unnumljered and inexhaustible blessings ; or, go back to the 
 midnight of ignorance, and the bondage of corruption.
 
 EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE DEDICATION OF THE CEMETERY AT 
 
 MOUNT AUBURN. 
 
 BY JOSEPH STORY. 
 
 Our Cemeteries rightly selected, and properly arranged, 
 may be made subservient to some of the highest purposes of 
 religion and human duty. They may preach lessons, to 
 which none may refuse to listen, and which all, that live, 
 must hear. Truths may bs there felt and taught in the 
 silence of our own meditations, more persuasive, and more 
 enduring than ever flowed from human lips. The grave hath 
 a voice of eloquence, nay, of superhuman eloquence, which 
 speaks at once to the thoughtlessness of the rash, and the 
 devotion of the good ; which addresses all times, and all 
 asres, and all sexes : which tells of wisdom to the wise, and 
 of comfort to the afflicted ; which warns us of our follies and 
 our dangers ; which whispers to us in accents of peace, and 
 alarms us in tones of terror ; which steals with a healing 
 balm into the stricken heart, and lifts up and supports the 
 broken spirit ; which awakens a new enthusiasm for virtue, 
 and disciplines us for its severer trials and duties ; which 
 calls up the images of the illustrious dead, with an animating 
 presence for our example and glory ; and which demands of 
 us, as men, as patriots, as christians, as immortals, that the 
 powers given by God should be devoted to his service, and 
 the minds created by his love, should return to him with 
 larger capacities for virtuous enjoyment, and with more 
 spiritual and intellectual brightness.
 
 story's discourse. 189 
 
 It should not be for the poor purpose of gratifying our 
 vanity or pride, that we should erect columns, and obelisks, 
 and monuments to the dead ; but that we may read thereon 
 much of our own destiny and duty. We know, that man is 
 the creature of associations and excitements. Experience 
 may instruct, but habit, and appetite, and passion, and ima- 
 gination, will exercise a strong dominion over him. These 
 are the Fates, which weave the thread of his character, and 
 unravel the mysteries of his conduct. The truth which 
 strikes home, must not only have the approbation of his 
 reason, but it must bo embodied in a visible, tangible, practi- 
 cal form. It must be felt, as well as seen. It must warm, 
 as well as convince. 
 
 It was a saying of Thomistocles, that the trophies of Mil- 
 tiades would not sutler him to sleep. The feeling, thus ex- 
 pressed, has a deep foundation in the human mind ; and, as 
 it is well or ill directed, it will cover us with shame, or exalt 
 us to glory. The deeds of the great attract but a cold and 
 listless admiration, when they pass in historical order before 
 us like moving shadows. It is the trophy and the monument, 
 which invest them with a substance of local reality. Who, 
 that has stood by the tomb of Washington on the quiet Po- 
 tomac, has not felt his heart more pure, his wishes more aspi- 
 ing, his gratitude more warm, and his love of country touched 
 by a holier flame? Who, that should see erected in shades 
 like these, even a cenotaph to the memory of a man, like 
 Buckminster, that prodigy of early genius, would not feel, 
 that there is an excellence over which death hath no power, 
 but which lives on through all time, still freshening with the 
 lapse of ages. 
 
 But passing from those, who by their talents and virtues 
 have shed lustre on the annals of mankind, to cases of mere 
 private bereavement, who, that should deposit in shades, 
 like these, the remains of a beloved friend, would not feel a 
 secret pleasure in the thought, that the simple inscription to 
 his worth would receive the passing tribute of a sigh from
 
 190 story's discourse^ 
 
 thousands of kindred bear's? That the stranger and the 
 traveller would linger on the spot with a feeling of rever- 
 ence ? That they, the very mourners themselves, when 
 they should revisit it, would find there the verdant sod, and 
 the fragrant flower, and the breezy shade? That they 
 might there, unseen, except of God, offer up their prayers, 
 or indulge the luxury of grief? That they might there real- 
 ize, in its full force, the affecting beatitude of the scriptures ; 
 " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted ?" 
 
 Surely, surely, we have not done all our duty, if there yet 
 remains a single incentive to human virtue, without its due 
 play in the action of life, or a single stream of happiness, 
 which has not been made to flow in upon the waters of 
 affliction. 
 
 Considerations, like those, which have been suggested, 
 have for a long time turned the thoughts of many distin- 
 guished citizens to the importance of some more appro- 
 priate places of sepulture. There is a growing sense in the 
 community of the inconveniences, and painful associations, 
 not to speak of the unhealthiness of interments, beneath our 
 churches. The tide, which is flowing with such a steady 
 and widening current into the narrow peninsula of our Me- 
 tropolis, not only forbids the enlargement of the common 
 limits, but admonishes us of the increasing dangers to the 
 ashes of the dead from its disturbing movements. Already 
 in other cities, the church-yards are closing against the ad- 
 mission of new incumbents, and b^gin to exhibit the sad 
 spectacle of promiscuous ruins and intermingled graves. 
 
 We are, therefore, but anticipating at the present moment 
 the desires, nay the necessities of the next generation. We 
 are but exercising a decent anxiety to secure an inviolable 
 home for ourselves and our posterity. We are but inviting 
 our children and their descendants, to what the Moravian 
 Brothers have, with such exquisite propriety, designated as 
 "the Field of Peace." 
 
 A rural Cemetery seems to combine in itself all the ad-
 
 AT MOUNT AUBURN. 191 
 
 vantages, which can ho proposed to gratify human feeUngs, 
 or tranquillize human fears ; to secure the best religious in. 
 fluences, and to cherish all those associations, which cast a 
 cheerful light over the darkness of the grave. 
 
 And what spot can be more appropriate than this, for 
 such a purpose? Nature seems to point it out with signi- 
 ficant energy, as the favorite retirement for the dead. There 
 are around us all the varied features of her beauty and 
 grandeur — the forest-crowned height ; the abrupt acclivity ; 
 the sheltered valley ; the deep glen ; the grassy glade ; and 
 the silent grove. Here are the lofty oak, the beech, that 
 " wreathes its old fantastic roots so high," the rustUng pine, 
 and the drooping wdlow ; — the tree, that sheds its pale leaves 
 with every autumn, a fit emblem of our own transitory bloom ; 
 and the evergreen, with its perennial shoots, instructing us, 
 that " the wintry blast of death kills not the buds of virtue." 
 Here is the thick shrubbery to protect and conceal the new- 
 made grave ; and there is the wild-flower creeping along the 
 narrow path, and planting its seeds in the upturned earth. 
 All around us there breathes a solemn calm, as if we were 
 in the bosom of a wilderness, broken only by the breeze as 
 it murmurs through the tops of the forest, or by the notes of 
 the warbler pouring forth his matin or his evening song. 
 
 Ascend but a few steps, and what a change of scenery to 
 surprise and delight us. We seem, as it were in an instant, 
 to pass from the confines of death, to the bright and balmy 
 regions of life. Below us flows the winding Charles with 
 its rippling current, like the stream of time hastening to the 
 ocean of eternity. In the distance, the City, — at once the 
 object of our admiration and our love, — rears its proud em- 
 inences, its glittering spires, its lofty towers, its graceful 
 mansions, its curling smoke, its crowded haunts of business 
 and pleasure, which speak to the eye, and yet leave a noise- 
 less loneliness on the ear. Again we turn, and the walls of 
 our venerable University rise before us, with many a rcc-
 
 192 story's discourse, 
 
 oUection of happy days passed there in the interchange of 
 study and friendship, and many a grateful thought of the 
 atfluence of its learning, which has adorned and nourished 
 the literature of our country. Again we turn, and the cul- 
 tivated farm, the neat cottage, the village church, the spark- 
 ling lake, the rich valley, and the distant hills, are before us 
 through opening vistas ; and we breathe amidst the fresh 
 and varied labors of man. 
 
 There is, therefore, within our reach, every variety of 
 natural and artificial scenery, which is fitted to awaken 
 emotions of the highest and most affecting character. We 
 stand, as it were, upon the borders of two worlds ; and as 
 the mood of our minds may be, we may gather lessons of 
 profound wisdom by contrasting the one with the other, or 
 indulge in the dreams of hope and ambition, or solace our 
 hearts by melancholy meditations. 
 
 Who is there, that in the contemplation of such a scene, 
 is not ready to exclaim with the enthusiasm of the Poet, 
 
 " Bline be the breezy hill, that skirts the down, 
 
 Where a green, grassy turf is all I crave, 
 With here and there a violet bestrown, 
 
 Past by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave, 
 
 And may an evening sun shine sweetly on my gravel" 
 
 And we are met here to consecrate this spot, by these 
 solemn ceremonies, to such a purpose. The Legislature of 
 this Commonwealth, with a parental foresight has clothed 
 the Horticultural Society with authority (if I may use its 
 own language) to make a perpetual dedication of it, as a 
 Rural Cemetery or Burying-Ground, and to plant and em- 
 beUish it with shrubbery, and flowers, and trees, and walks, 
 and other rural ornaments. And I stand here by the order, 
 and in behalf of this Society, to declare that, by these servi- 
 ces, it is to be deemed henceforth and forever so dedicated.
 
 AT MOUNT AUBURN. 193 
 
 Mount Auburn, in the noblest sense, belongs no longer to the 
 living, but to the dead. It is a sacred, it is an eternal trust. 
 It is consecrated ground. May it remain forever inviolate ! 
 
 What a multitude of thoughts crowd upon the mind in the 
 contemplation of such a scene. How much of the future, 
 even in its far distant reaches, rises before us with all its 
 persuasive reaUties. Take but one little narrow space of 
 time, and how affecting are its associations ! Within the 
 flight of one half century, how many of the great, the 
 good, and the wise, will be gathered here ! How many in 
 the loveliness of infancy, the beauty of youth, the vigor of 
 manhood, and the maturity of age, will lie down here, and 
 dwell in the bosom of their mother earth ! The rich and the 
 poor, the gay and the wretched, the favorites of thousands, 
 and the forsaken of the world, the stranger in his solitary 
 grave, and the patriarch surrounded by the kindred of a long 
 lineage ! How many will here bury their brightest hopes, 
 or blasted expectations ! How many bitter tears will here 
 be shed ! How many agonizing sighs will here be heaved ! 
 How many trembling feet will cross the pathways, and re- 
 turning, leave behind them the dearest objects of their reve- 
 rence or their love ! 
 
 And if this were all, sad indeed, and funereal would be our 
 thoughts ; gloomy, indeed, would be these shades, and deso- 
 late these prospects. 
 
 But — thanks be to God — the evils, which he permits, have 
 their attendant mercies, and are blessings in disguise. The 
 bruised reed will not be laid utterly prostrate. The wound- 
 ed heart will not always bleed. The voice of consolation 
 will spring up in the midst of the silence of these regions of 
 death. The mourner will revisit these shades with a secret, 
 though melancholy pleasure. The hand of friendship will 
 delight to cherish the flowers, and the shrubs, that fringe 
 the lowly grave, or the sculptured monument. The earliest 
 beams of the morning will play upon these summits with a 
 
 17
 
 194 story's discourse, 
 
 refreshing cheerfulness ; and the Ungering tints of evening 
 hover on them with a tranquiUzing glow. Spring will invite 
 thither the footsteps of the young by its opening foliage ; and 
 Autumn detain the contemplative by its latest bloom. The 
 votary of learning and science will here learn to elevate his 
 genius by the holiest studies. The devout will here offer up 
 the silent tribute of pity, or the prayer of gratitude. The 
 rivalries of the world will here drop from the heart ; the 
 spirit of forgiveness will gather new impulses ; the selfishness 
 of avarice will be checked ; the restlessness of ambition will 
 be rebuked ; vanity will let fall its plumes ; and pride, as it 
 sees " what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue," 
 will acknowledge the value of virtue as far, immeasurably far, 
 beyond that of fame. 
 
 But that, which will be ever present, pervading these 
 shades, like the noon-day sun, and shedding cheerfulness 
 around, is the consciousness, the irrepressible consciousness, 
 amidst all these lessons of human mortality, of the higher 
 truth, that we are beings, not of time but of eternity — "That 
 this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal 
 must put on immortality." That this is but the threshold 
 and starting point of an existence, compared with whose 
 duration the ocean is but as a drop, nay the whole creation 
 an evanescent quantity. 
 
 Let us banish, then, the thought, that this is to be the abode 
 of a gloom, which will haunt the imagination by its terrors, 
 or chill the heart by its solitude. Let us cultivate feelings 
 and sentiments more worthy of ourselves, and more worthy 
 of Christianity. Here let us erect the memorials of our love, 
 and our gratitude, and our glory. Here let the brave re- 
 pose, who have died in the cause of their country. Here 
 let the statesman rest, who has achieved the victories of 
 peace, not less renowned than war. Here let genius find a 
 home, that has sung immortal strains, or has instructed with 
 still diviner eloquence. Here let learning and science, the
 
 AT MOUNT AUBURN. 195 
 
 votaries of inventive art, and the teacher of the philosophy 
 of nature come. Here let youth and beauty, blighted by 
 
 premature decay, drop, like tender blossoms, into the virgin 
 earth ; and here let age retire, ripened for the harvest. 
 Above all, here let the benefactors of mankind, the good, the 
 merciful, the meek, the pure in heart, be congregated ; for 
 to them belongs an undying praise. And let us take comfort, 
 nay, let us rejoice, that in future ages, long after we are 
 gathered to the generations of other days, thousands of kind- 
 ling hearts will here repeat the sublime declaration, " Bles- 
 sed are the dead that die in the Lord, for they rest from 
 their labors ; and their works do follow them,"
 
 EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH,, 
 
 ON THE ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 
 BY PATRICK HENRY. 
 
 Tiiis government is so new, it wants a name. I wish its 
 other novelties were as harmless as this. He told us, we 
 had an American dictator in the year 1781. We never had 
 an American President. In making a dictator, we follow 
 the example of the most glorious, magnanimous and skilful 
 nations. In great dangers this power has been given. 
 Rome had furnished us with an illustrious example. Amer- 
 ica found a person worthy of that trust : she looked to 
 Virginia for him. We gave a dictatorial power to hands 
 that used it gloriously ; and which were rendered more glo- 
 rious by surrendering it up. Where is there a breed of 
 such dictators ? Shall we find a set of American presidents 
 of such a breed ? Will the American President come and 
 lay prostrate at the feet of Congress his laurels ? I fear 
 there are few men who can be trusted on that head. The 
 glorious republic of Holland has erected monuments to her 
 warlike intrepidity and valor : yet she is now totally ruined 
 by a stadtholder ; a Dutch president. The destructive wars 
 into which that nation has been plunged, has since involved 
 her in ambition. The glorious triumphs of Blenheim and 
 Ramillies were not so conformable to the genius, nor so 
 much to the true interest of the republic, as those numerous 
 and useful canals and dykes, and other objects at which am- 
 bition spurns. That republic has, however, by the industry 
 of its inhabitants, and policy of its magistrates, suppressed
 
 HENRY^S SPEECH. 197 
 
 the ill effects of ambition. Notwithstanding two of their 
 provinces have paid nothing, yet I hope the example of 
 Holland will tell us, that we can live happily without chang- 
 ing our present despised government. Cannot people be as 
 happy under a mild, as under an energetic government? 
 Cannot content and feUcity be enjoyed in a republic, as 
 well as in a monarchy, because there are whips, chains and 
 scourges used in the latter ? If I am not as rich as my 
 neighbor, if I give my mite, my all, republican forbearance 
 will say, that it is sufficient. So said the honest confederates 
 of Holland : " You are poor ; we are rich. We will go on 
 and do better, far better, than be under an oppressive gov- 
 ernment." Far better will it be for us to continue as we 
 are, than go under that tight, energetic government. I 
 am persuaded of what the honorable gentleman says, that 
 separate confederacies will ruin us. In my judgment, they 
 are evils never to be thought of till a people are driven by 
 necessity. When he asks my opinion of consolidation, of 
 one power to reign over America, with a strong hand, I will 
 tell him, I am persuaded of the rectitude of my honorable 
 friend's opinion, (Mr. Mason,) that one government cannot 
 reign over so extensive a country as this is, without absolute 
 despotism. Compared to such a consolidation, small confed- 
 eracies are little evils, though they ought to be recurrred to, 
 but in case of necessity. Virginia and North Carolina are 
 despised. They could exist separated from the rest of 
 America. Maryland and Vermont were not overrun when 
 out of the confederacy. Though it is not a desirable object, 
 yet I trust, that on examination it will be found, that Vir- 
 ginia and North Carolina would not be swallowed up in case 
 it was necessary for them to be joined together. 
 
 When we come to the spirit of domestic peace, the hum- 
 ble genius of Virginia has formed a government, suitable to 
 the genius of her people. I believe the hands, that formed 
 the American constitution, triumph in the experiment. It 
 
 proves, that the man who formed it, and perhaps by accident, 
 17*
 
 198 henry's speech on 
 
 did what design could not do in other parts of the world. 
 After all your reforms in government, unless you consult the 
 the genius of the inhabitants, you will never succeed ; your 
 system can have no duration. Let me appeal to the can- 
 dor of the committee, if the want of money be not the source 
 of all our misfortunes. We cannot be blamed for not mak- 
 ing dollars. This want of money cannot be supplied by 
 changes in government. The only possible remedy, as I have 
 before asserted, is industry aided by economy. Compare the 
 genius of the people with the government of this country. 
 Let me remark, that it stood the severest conflict, during the 
 war, to which human virtue has ever been called. I call 
 upon every gentleman here to declare, whether the king of 
 England had any subjects so attached to his family and 
 government — so loyal as we were. But the genius of Vir- 
 ginia called us for liberty; called us from those beloved 
 endearments, which, from long habits, we were taught to 
 love and revere. We entertained from our earliest infancy, 
 the most sincere regard and reverence for the mother coun- 
 try. Our partiaUty extended to a predilection for her cus- 
 toms, habits, manners and laws. Thus inclined, when the 
 deprivation of our liberty was attempted, what did we do ? 
 What did the genius of Virginia tell us ? " Sell all and pur- 
 chase liberty." This was a severe conflict. Republican 
 maxims were then esteemed. Those maxims, and the gen- 
 ius of Virginia landed you safe on the shore of freedom. 
 On this awful occasion, did you want a federal government. 
 Did federal ideas possess your minds ? Did federal ideas 
 lead you to tlie most splendid victories ? I must again re- 
 peat the favorite idea, that the genius of Virginia did, and 
 will again lead us to happiness. To obtain the most splen- 
 did prize, you did not consolidate. You accomplished the 
 most glorious ends, by the assistance of the genius of your 
 country. Men were then taught by that genius, that they 
 were fighting for what was most dear to them. View the 
 most affectionate father, the most tender mother, operated
 
 fTHE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 199 
 
 on by liberty, nobly stimulating their sons, their dearest 
 sons, sometimes their only son, to advance to the defence of 
 his country. We have seen the sons of Cincinnatus, with- 
 out splendid magnificence or parade, going, with the genius 
 of their great progenitor Cincinnatus, to the plough — men 
 who served their country without ruining it ; men who had 
 served it to the destruction of their private patrimonies ; 
 their country owing them amazing amounts, for the pay- 
 ment of which no adequate provision was then made. We 
 have seen such men throw prostrate their arms at your feet. 
 They did not call for those emoluments, which ambition pre- 
 sents to some imaginations. The soldiers, who were able 
 to command every thing, instead of trampling on those laws, 
 which tlrey were instituted to defend, most strictly obeyed 
 them. The hands of justice have not been laid on a single 
 American soldier. Bring them into contrast with European 
 veterans — you will see an astonishing superiority over the 
 latter. There has been a strict subordination to the laws. 
 The honorable gentleman's office gave him an opportunity 
 of viewing if the laws were administered so as to prevent 
 riots, routs and unlawful assemblies. From his then situa- 
 tion, he could have furnished us with the instances in which 
 licentiousness trampled on the laws. Among all our troub- 
 les, we have paid almost to the last shilling, for the sake of 
 justice : we have paid as well as any state ; I will not saj^ 
 better. To support the general government and our own 
 legislature ; to pay the interest of the public debts, and de- 
 fray contingencies, we have been heavily taxed. To add to 
 these things, the distresses produced by paper money, and 
 by tobacco contracts, were sufficient to render any people 
 discontented. These, sir, were great temptations ; but in 
 the most severe conflict of misfortunes, this code of laws — 
 this genius of Virginia, call it what you will, triumphed over 
 every thing. 
 
 Why did it please the gentleman, (Mr Corbin,) to bestow 
 such epithets on our country ? Have the worms taken pos-
 
 200 henry's spekch on 
 
 session of the wood, that our strong vessel — our poHtical 
 vessel, has sprung a leak ? He may know better than I, but 
 I consider such epithets to be the most illiberal and unwar- 
 rantable aspersions on our laws. The system of laws under 
 which we have lived, has been tried and found to suit our 
 genius. I trust we shall not change this happy S5'stem. I 
 cannot so easily take leave of an old friend. Till I see him 
 following after and pursuing other objects which can pervert 
 the great objects of human legislation, pardon me if I with- 
 hold my assent. 
 
 Some here speak of the difficulty in forming a new code 
 of laws. Young as we were, it was not wonderful if there 
 was a difficulty in forming and assimilating our system of 
 laws. I shall be obliged to the gentleman, if he would point 
 out those glaring, those great faults. The efforts of assim- 
 ilating our laws to our genius have not been found altogeth- 
 er vain. I shall pass over some other circumstances which 
 I intended to mention, and endeavor to come to the capital 
 objection, which my honorable friend made. My worthy 
 friend said, that a republican form of government would not 
 suit a very extensive country ; but that if a government 
 were judiciously organized and limits prescribed to it ; an 
 attention to these principles might render it possible for it 
 to exist in an extensive territory. Whoever will be bold to 
 say, that a continent can be governed by that system, con- 
 tradicts all the experience of the world. It is a work too 
 great for human wisdom. Let me call for an example. Ex- 
 perience has been called the best teacher. I call for an 
 example of a great extent of country, governed by one gov- 
 ernment, or Congress, call it what you will. I tell him that 
 a government may be trimmed up according to gentlemen's 
 fancy, but it never can operate ; it will be but very short- 
 lived. However disagreeable it may be to lengthen my 
 objections, I cannot help taking notice of what the honora- 
 ble gentleman said. To me it appears that there is no 
 check in that government. The president, senators and
 
 THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 201 
 
 representatives all immediately, or mediately, are the choice 
 of the people. Tell me not of checks on paper ; but tell 
 me of checks founded on self-love. The English govern- 
 ment is founded on self-love. This powerful, irresistible 
 stimulus of self-love has saved that government. It has 
 interposed that hereditary nobility between the king and 
 commons. If the house of lords assists or permits the king 
 to overturn the liberties of the people, the same tyranny 
 will destroy them ; they will therefore keep the balance in 
 the democratic branch. Suppose they see the commons 
 encroach upon the king; self-love, that great, energetic 
 check, will call upon them to interpose ; for, if the king be 
 destroyed, their destruction must speedily follow. Here is 
 a consideration which prevails in my mind, to pronounce 
 the British government superior, in this respect, to any gov- 
 ernment that ever was in any country. Compare this with 
 your congressional checks. I beseech gentlemen to consid- 
 er whether they can say, when trusting power, that a mere 
 patriotic profession will be equally operative and efficacious, 
 as the check of self-love. In considering the experience of 
 ages, is it not seen that fair, disinterested patriotism and 
 professions of attachment to rectitude, have never been 
 solely trusted to by an enlightened, free people. If you de- 
 pend on your president's and senators' patriotism, you are 
 gone. Have you a resting place like the British govern- 
 ment ? Where is the rock of your salvation ? The real 
 rock of pohtical salvation is self-love, perpetuated from age 
 to age in every human breast, and manifested in every ac- 
 tion. If they can stand the temptations of human nature, 
 you are safe. If you have a good president, senators and 
 representatives, there is no danger. But can this be ex- 
 pected from human nature ? Without real checks, it will 
 not suffice that some of them are good. A good president, 
 or senator, or representative will have a natural weakness. 
 Virtue will slumber : the wicked will be continually watch- 
 ing : consequently you will be undone. Where are your
 
 202 henry's speech on 
 
 checks? You have no hereditary nobility — an order of 
 men, to whom human eyes can be cast up for reUef : for, 
 says the constitution, there is no title of nobility to bo grant- 
 ed ; v/hich, by the by, would not have been so dangerous, as 
 the perilous cession of powers contained in that paper : be- 
 cause, as Montesquieu says, when you give titles of nobility, 
 you know what you give ; but when you give power, you 
 know not what you give. If you say, that out of this de- 
 praved mass, you can collect luminous characters, it will not 
 avail, unless this luminous breed will be propagated from 
 generation to generation ; and even then, if the number of 
 vicious characters will preponderate, you are undone. And 
 that this will certainly bo the case, is, to my mind, perfectly 
 clear. In the British government, there arc real balances 
 and checks ; in this system, there are only ideal balances. 
 Till I am convinced that there are actual, efficient checks, I 
 will not give my assent to its establishment. The president 
 and senators have nothing to lose. They have not that inter- 
 est in the preservation of government, that the king and 
 lords have in England. They will therefore be regardless 
 of the interests of the people. The constitution will be as 
 safe with one body, as v.ith two. It will answer every pur- 
 pose of human legislation. How was the constitution of 
 England when only the commons had the power ? I need 
 only remark, that it was the most unfortunate era when the 
 country returned to king, lords and commons, without suffi- 
 cient responsibility in the king. When the commons of 
 England, in the manly language which became freemen, said 
 to their king, you are our servant, then the temple of liberty 
 was complete. From that noble source have we derived our 
 lib3rty : that spirit of patriotic attachment to one's country, 
 that zeal for liberty, and that enmity to tyranny, which sig- 
 nalized the then champions of liberty, we inherit from our 
 British ancestors. And I am free to own, that if you can- 
 not love a republican government, you may love the British 
 monarchy : for, although the king is not sufficiently respon-
 
 THE FEDEKAL CONSTITUTION. 203 
 
 sible, tlie responsibility of his agents, and the efficient checks 
 interposed by the British constitution, render it less dangerous 
 than other monarchies, or oppressive tyrannical aristocraciep. 
 What are their checks of exposing accounts ? Their checks 
 upon paper are inefficient and nugatory. Can you search 
 your president's closet ? Is this a real check ? We ought to 
 be exceedingly cautious in giving up this life, this soul — our 
 money — this power of taxation to Congress. What power- 
 ful check is there here to prevent the most extravagant and 
 proffigate squandering of the public money? What security 
 have we in money matters ? Inquiry is precluded by this 
 constitution. I never wish te see Congress supplicate the 
 states. But it is more abhorrent to my mind to give them 
 an unlimited and unbounded command over our souls, our 
 lives, our purses, without any check or restraint. How are 
 you to keep inquiry alive ? How discover their conduct ? 
 We are told by that paper, tliat a regular statement and ac- 
 count of the receipts and expenditures of all public money, 
 shall be published from time to time. Here is a beautiful 
 check ! What time ? Here is the utmost latitude left. If 
 those who are in Congress please to put that construction 
 upon it, the words of the constitution will be satisfied by pub- 
 lishing those accounts once in one hundred years. They 
 may publish or not, as they please. Is this like the present 
 despised system, whereby the accounts are to be published 
 monthly ?
 
 EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, 
 
 IN COMMEMORATION OF THE LIVES AND SERVICES OF 
 JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
 
 BY DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jefferson, fellow-citizens, were suc- 
 cessively Presidents of the United States. The comparative 
 merits of their respective administrations for a long time 
 agitated and divided public opinion. They were rivals, each 
 supported by numerous and powerful poi'tions of the people, 
 for the highest office. This contest, partly the cause, and 
 partly the consequence, of the long existence of two great 
 political parties in the country, is now part of the history of 
 our government. We may naturally regret, that any thing 
 should have occurred to create difference and discord, be- 
 tween those who had acted harmoniously and efficiently in 
 the great concerns of the revolution. But this is not the 
 time, nor this the occasion, for entering into the grounds of 
 that difference, or for attempting to discuss the merits of the 
 questions which it involves. As practical questions, they 
 were canvassed, when the measures which they regarded 
 were acted on and adopted ; and as belonging to history, the 
 time has not come for their consideration. 
 
 It is, perhaps, not wonderful, that when the Constitution 
 of the United States went first into operation, different opin- 
 ions should be entertained, as to the extent of the powers 
 conferred by it. Here was a natural source of diversity of 
 sentiment. It is still less wonderful, that that event, about 
 contemporary with our government, under the present Con-
 
 Webster's eulogy. 205 
 
 stitution, which so entirely shocked all Europe, and disturb- 
 ed our relations with her leading powers, should be thought, 
 by different men, to have different bearings on our own pros- 
 perity ; and that the early measures, adopted by our 
 government, in consequence of this new state of things, 
 should be seen in opposite lights. It is for the future histo- 
 rian, when what now remains of prejudice and misconcep- 
 tion shall have passed away, testate these different opinions, 
 and pronounce impartial judgment. In the mean time, all 
 good men rejoice, and well may rejoice, that the sharpest 
 differences sprung out of measures, which, whether right or 
 wrong, have ceased, with the exigencies that gave them 
 birth, and have left no permanent effect, either on the Con- 
 stitution, or on the general prosperity of the country. This 
 remark, I am aware, may be supposed to have its exception, 
 in one measure, the alteration of the Constitution, as to the 
 mode of choosing President ; but it is true, in its general 
 application. Thus the course of policy pursued towards 
 France, in 179S, on the one hand, and the measures of com- 
 mercial restriction, commenced in 1807, on the other, both 
 subjects of warm and severe opposition, have passed away, 
 and left nothing behind them. They were temporary, and 
 Avhether wise or unwise, their consequences were limited to 
 their respective occasions. It is equally clear, at the same 
 time, and it is equally gratifying, that those measures of 
 botli administrations, w hich were of durable importance, and 
 which drew after them interesting and long remaining con- 
 sequences, have received general approbation. Such was 
 the organization, or rather the creation, of the navy, in the 
 administration of Mr. Adams ; such the acquisition of Lou- 
 isiana, in that of Mr. Jefferson. The country, it may safely 
 be added, is not likely to be willing either to approve, or to 
 reprobate, indiscriminately, and in the aggregate, all the 
 measures of either, or of any administration. The dictate of 
 reason and of justice is, that, holding each one his own senti- 
 ments on the points in difference, we imitate the great men 
 18
 
 '-i06 webstek's eulogy, 
 
 themselves, in the forbearance and moderation which they 
 have cherished, and in the mutual respect and kindness which 
 they have been so much inclined to feel and to reciprocate. 
 No men, fellow-citizens, ever served their country with 
 more entire exemption from every imputation of selfish and 
 mercenary motive than those to whose memory we are pay- 
 ing these proofs of respect. A suspicion of any disposition 
 to enrich themselves, or to profit by their public employ- 
 ments, never rested on either. No sordid motive approach- 
 ed them. The inheritance which they have left to their 
 children, is of their character and their fame. Fellow-citi- 
 zens, I will detain you no longer by this faint and feeble 
 tribute to the memory of the illustrious dead. Even in 
 other hands, adequate justice could not be performed, within 
 the limits of this occasion. Their highest, their best praise, 
 is your deep conviction of their merits, your affectionate 
 gratitude for their labors and services. It is not my voice, 
 it is this cessation of oi'dinary pursuits, this arresting of all 
 attention, these solemn ceremonies, and this crowded house, 
 which speak their eulogy. Their fame, indeed, is safe. 
 That is now treasured up, beyond the reach of accident. 
 Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, 
 nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their 
 remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored. Mar- 
 ble columns may indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase 
 all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame remains ; 
 for with American liberty it rose, and with American 
 LIBERTY ONLY Can it pcrish. It was the last swelling peal 
 of yonder choir, ' their bodies are buried in peace, 
 BUT their name liveth evermore ' I catch that solemn 
 song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph, 'their 
 
 NAME LIVETH EVERMORE.' 
 
 Of the illustrious signers of the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence there now remains only Charles Carroll. He seems an 
 aged oak, standing alone on the plain, which time has spared 
 a little longer, after all its contemporaries have been levelled
 
 ON ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 207 
 
 with the dust. Venerable object ! we deUght to gather round 
 its trunk, while yet it stands, and to dwell beneath its 
 shadow. Sole survivor of an assembly of as great men as 
 the world has witnessed, in a transaction, one of the most 
 important that history i-ecords, what thoughts, what inter- 
 esting reflections must fill his elevated and devout soul ! If 
 he dwell on the past, how touching its recollections ; if he 
 survey the present, how happy, how joyous, how full of the 
 fruition of that hope, which his ardent patriotism indulged ; 
 if he glance at the future, how does the prospect of his coun- 
 try's advancement almost bewilder his weakened conception ! 
 Fortunate, distinguished patriot ! Interesting relic of the 
 past ! Let him know that while we honor the dead, we do 
 not forget the living ; and that there is not a heart here 
 which does not fervently pray, that Heaven may keep him 
 yet back from the society of his companions. 
 
 And now, fellow-citizens, let us not retire from this occa- 
 sion, without a deep and solemn conviction of the duties 
 which have devolved upon us. This lovely land, this glori- 
 rious liberty, these benign institutions, the dear purchase of 
 our fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, ours 
 to transmit. Generations past, and generations to come, 
 hold us responsible for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from 
 behind, admonish us, with their anxious paternal voices, 
 posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future, the 
 world turns hither its solicitous eyes — all, all conjure us to 
 act wisely, and faithfully, in the relation which we sustain. 
 We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon us ; but 
 by virtue, by morality, by rehgion, by the cultivation of 
 every good principle and every good habit, we may hope to 
 enjoy the blessing, through our day, and to leave it unim- 
 paired to our children. Let us feel deeply how much, of 
 what we arc and of what we possess, we owe to this Uberty, 
 and these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, 
 given us a soil, which yields bounteously to the hands of 
 industry, the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the
 
 208 Webster's eulogy opt 
 
 skies over our heads shed health and vigor. But what are- 
 lands, and seas, and skies, to civilized man, without society, 
 without knowledge, without morals, without religious cul- 
 ture ; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extent, and 
 all their excellence, but under the protection of wise institu- 
 tions and a free government ? Fellow-citizens, there is not 
 one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and 
 at every moment, experience, in his own condition, and in 
 the condition of those most near and dear to him, the influ- 
 ence and the benefits of this liberty, and these institutions. 
 Let us then acknowledge the blessing, let us feel it deeply 
 and powerfully, let us cherish a strong affection for it, and 
 resolve to maintain and perpetuate it. The blood of our 
 fathers, let it not have been shed in vain ; the great hope of 
 posterity, let it not be blasted. 
 
 The striking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world 
 around us, a topic to which, I fear, I advert too often, and 
 dwell on too long, cannot be altogether omitted here. Nei- 
 ther individuals nor nations can perform their part well, 
 until they understand and feel its importance, and compre- 
 hend and justly appreciate all the duties belonging to it. It 
 is not to inflate national vanity, nor to swell a light and 
 empty feeling of self-importance, but it is that we may judge 
 justly of our situation, and of our own duties, that I earnest- 
 ly urge this consideration of our position, and our character, 
 among the nations of the earth. It cannot be denied, but 
 by those who would dispute against the sun, that with 
 America, and in America, a new era commences in human 
 affairs. This era is distinguished by Free Representative 
 Governments, by entire religious liberty, by improved sys- 
 tems of national intercourse, by a newly awakened, and un- 
 conquerable s})irit of free inquiry, and by a difflision of 
 knowledge through the community, such as has been before 
 altogether unknown and unheard of. America, America, 
 our country, fellow-citizens, our own dear and native land, 
 is inseparably connected, fast bound up, in fortune and by
 
 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 209 
 
 fate with these great interests. If they fall, we fall with 
 them ; if they stand, it will be because we have upholden 
 them. Let us contemplate, then, this connexion which 
 binds the prosperity of others to our own ; and let us man- 
 fully discharge all the duties which it imposes. If we 
 cherish the virtues and the principles of our fathers. Heaven 
 will assist us to carry on the work of human liberty and 
 human happiness. Auspicious omens cheer us. Great ex- 
 amples are before us. Our own firmament now shines 
 brightly upon our path. Washington is in the clear 
 upper sky. Those other stars have now joined the Ameri- 
 can constellation ; they circle round their centre, and the 
 heavens beam with new light. Beneath this illumination, 
 let us walk the course of Ufe, and at its close, devoutly com- 
 med our beloved country, the common parent of us all, to 
 the Divine Benignity. 
 
 18*
 
 EXTRACT FROM A EULOGY, 
 
 ON WASHINGTON. 
 BY JOHN M. MASON, D. D. 
 
 It must ever be difficult to compare the merits of Wash- 
 ington's characters, because he always appeared greatest 
 in that which he last sustained. Yet if there is a prefer- 
 ence, it must be assigned to the lieutenant-general of the 
 armies of America. Not because the duties of that station 
 were more arduous than those which he had often perform- 
 ed, but because it more fully displayed his magnanimity. 
 While others become great by elevation, Washington be- 
 comes greater by condescension. Matchless patriot ! to 
 stoop, on public motives, to an inferior appointment, after 
 possessing and dignifying the highest offices ! Thrice fa- 
 vored country, which boasts of such a citizen ! We gaze 
 with astonishment : we exult that we are Americans. We 
 augur every thing great, and good, and happy. But whence 
 this sudden horror ? What means that cry of agony ? Oh ! 
 'tis the shriek of America ! The fairy vision is fled : Wash- 
 INGTON is — no more ! — 
 
 " How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !" 
 
 Daughters of America, who erst prepared the festal 
 bower and the laurel wreath, plant now the cypress grove, 
 and water it with tears. 
 
 " How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !" 
 
 The death of Washington, Americans, has revealed the
 
 mason's eulogy. 211 
 
 extent of our loss. It has given us the final proof that we 
 never mistook him. Take his affecting testament, and read 
 the secrets of his soul. Read all the power of domestic 
 virtue. Read his strong love of letters and of liherty. 
 Read his fidelity to republican principle, and his jealousy of 
 national character. Read his devotedness to you in his 
 military bequests to near relations. " These swords," they 
 are the words of Washington, " these swords are accom- 
 panied with an injunction not to unsheath them for the pur- 
 pose of shedding of blood, except it be for self-defence, or 
 in defence of their country and its rights ; and in the latter 
 case, to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling with them 
 in their hands to the relinquishment thereof." 
 
 In his acts, Americans, you have seen the man. In the 
 complicated excellence of character, he stands alone. Let 
 no future Plutarch attempt the iniquity of parallel. Let no 
 soldier of fortune, let no usurping conqueror, let not Alex- 
 ander or Caesar, let not Cromwell or Bonaparte, let nono 
 among the dead or the living, appear in the same picture 
 with Washington : or let them appear as the shade to his 
 light. 
 
 On this subject, my countrymen, it is for others to spec- 
 ulate, but it is for us to feel. Yet, in proportion to the se- 
 verity of the stroke, ought to be our thankfulness that it 
 was not inflicted sooner. Through a long series of years 
 has God preserved our Washington a public blessing : and 
 now that he has removed him forever, shall we presume to 
 say. What doest thou ? Never did the tomb preach more 
 powerfully the dependence of all things on the Most High. 
 The greatest of mortals crumble into dust, the moment He 
 commands. Return, ye children of men. Washington was 
 but the instrument of a benignant God. He sickens, he 
 dies, that we may learn not to trust in men, nor to make 
 flesh our arm. But though Washington is dead, Jehovah 
 lives. God of our fathers ! be our God, and the God of our 
 children ! Thou art our refuge and our hope ; the pillar of
 
 212 mason's eulogy. 
 
 our strength ; the wall of our defence, and our unfading 
 glory ! 
 
 Americans ! this God who raised up Wasiiiivgton, and 
 gave you liberty, exacts from you the duty of cherishing it 
 with a zeal according to knowledge. Never sully, by apathy 
 or by outrage, your fair inheritance. Risk not, for one 
 moment, on visionary theories, the solid blessings of your 
 lot. To you particularly, O youth of America ! applies the 
 solemn charge. In all the perils of your country, remember 
 Washington. The freedom of reason and of right, has 
 been handed down to you on the point of the hero's sword. 
 Guard, with veneration, the sacred deposit. The curse of 
 ages will rest upon you, O youth of America ! if ever you sur- 
 render to foreign ambition, or domestic lawlessness, the pre- 
 cious liberties for which Washington fought, and your 
 fathers bled. 
 
 I cannot part with you, fellow-citizens, without urging 
 the long remembrance of our present assembly. This day 
 we wipe away the reproach of republics, that they know not 
 how to be grateful. In your treatment of living patriots, 
 recall your love and your regret of Washington. Let not 
 future inconsistency charge this day with hypocrisy. Hap- 
 py America, if she gives an instance of universal principle 
 in her sorrows for the man " first in war, first in peace, 
 and first in the hearts of his countrymen !"
 
 EXTRACT FROM A EULOGY, 
 
 OJV LAFAYETTE. 
 
 BY EDWARD EVERETT. 
 
 There have been those who have denied to Lafayette the 
 name of a great man. What is greatness ? Does goodness 
 belong to greatness, and make an essential part of it ? If it 
 does, who, I would ask, of all the prominent names in his- 
 tory, has run through such a career, with so little reproach, 
 justly or unjustly, bestowed ? Are military courage and 
 conduct the measure of greatness ? Lafayette was entrust, 
 cd by Washington, with all kinds of service ; — the laborious 
 and complicated, which required skill and patience, the per- 
 ilous that demanded nerve ; — and we see him keeping up a 
 pursuit, effecting a retreat, out-manceuvring a wary adver- 
 sary with a superior force, harmonizing the action of French 
 regular troops and American militia, commanding an assault 
 at the point of the bayonet ; and all with entire success 
 and brilliant reputation. Is the readiness to meet vast re- 
 sponsibility a proof of greatness ? The memoirs of Mr. Jeffer- 
 son show us, as we have already seen, that there was a mo- 
 ment in 1789, when Lafayette took upon himself, as tho 
 head of the military force, the entire responsibility of laying 
 down the basis of the revolution. Is the cool and bravo 
 administration of gigantic power a mark of greatness? In 
 all the whirlwind of the Revolution, and when as comman- 
 der-in-chief of the National Guard, an organized force of 
 three millions of men, who, for any popular purpose, needed 
 but a word, a look, to put them in motion, — and he their
 
 214 Everett's eulogy. 
 
 idol, — we behold him ever calm, collected, disinterested; 
 as free from affectation as selfishness, clothed not less with 
 humility than with power. Is the fortitude required to 
 resist the multitude pressing onward their leader to glorious 
 crime, a part of greatness ? Behold him the fugitive and the 
 victim, when he might have been the chief of the Revolu- 
 tion. Is the solitary and unaided opposition of a good citi- 
 zen to the pretensions of an absolute ruler, whose power 
 was as boundless as his ambition, an effort of greatness ? 
 Read the letter of Lafayette to Napoleon Bonaparte, refu- 
 sing to vote for him as consul for life. Is the voluntary 
 return, in advancing years, to the direction of affairs, at a 
 moment Uke that, when in 1815, the ponderous machinery 
 of the French empire was flying asunder, — stunning, rend- 
 ing, crushing thousands on every side, — a mark of greatness ? 
 Contemplate Lafayette at the tribune, in Paris, when allied 
 Europe was thundering at its gates, and Napoleon yet stood 
 in his desperation and at bay. Are dignity, propriety, 
 cheerfulness, unerring discretion in new and conspicuous 
 stations of extraordinary dehcacy, a sign of greatness? 
 Watch his progress in this country, in 1824 and 1825, hear 
 him say the right word at the right time, in a series of in- 
 terviews, public and private, crowding on each other every 
 day, for a twelve month, throughout the Union, with every 
 description of persons, without ever wounding for a moment 
 the self-love of others, or forgetting the dignity of his own 
 position. Lastly, is it any proof of greatness, to be able at 
 the age of seventy-three, to take the lead in a successful and 
 bloodless revolution ; — to change the dynasty, — to organize, 
 exercise, and abdicate a military command of three and a 
 half milUons of men ; — to take up, to perform, and lay down 
 the most momentous, delicate, and perilous duties, without 
 passion, without hurry, without selfishness? Is it great, to 
 disregard the bribes of title, office, money ; — to live, to labor, 
 and suffer for great public ends alone ; — to adhere to princi- 
 ple under all circumstances ; — to stand before Europe and
 
 ON LAFAYETTE. 215 
 
 America conspicuous, for sixty years, in the most respon- 
 sible stations, the acknowledged admiration of all good 
 men. 
 
 But I think I understand the proposition, that Lafayette 
 was not a great man. It comes from the same school 
 which also denies greatness to Washington, and which ac- 
 cords it to Alexander and Csesar, to Napoleon and to his 
 conqueror. When I analyze the greatness of these distin- 
 guished men, as contrasted with that of Lafayette and 
 Washington, I find either one idea omitted, which is essential 
 to true greatness, or one included as essential, which belongs 
 only to the lowest conception of greatness. The moral, 
 disinterested, and purely patriotic qualities are wholly want- 
 ing in the greatness of Alexander and Ctesar ; and on the 
 other hand, it is a certain splendor of success, a brilliancy 
 of result, which, with the majority of mankind, marks them 
 out as the great men of our race. But not only are a high 
 morality and a true patriotism essential to greatness, — but 
 they must first be renounced before a ruthless career of 
 selfish conquest can begin. I profess to be no judge of mili- 
 tary combinations ; but with the best reflection I have been 
 able to give the subject, I perceive no reason to doubt that, 
 had Lafayette, like Napoleon, been by principle, capable of 
 hovering on the edges of ultra-revolutionism; never halting 
 enough to be denounced ; never plunging too far to retreat ; 
 — but with a cold and well-balanced selfishness, sustaining 
 himself at the head of affairs, under each new phase of the 
 Revolution, by the compliances sufficient to satisfy its de- 
 mauds, — he might have anticipated the career of Napoleon. 
 At three different periods, he had it in his power, without 
 usurpation, to take the government into his own hands. 
 He was invited, urged to do so. Had he done it, and made 
 use of the military means at his command, to maintain and 
 perpetuate his power, — he would then, at the sacrifice of all 
 his just claims to the name of great and good, have reached
 
 216 Everett's eulogy, 
 
 that which vulgar admiration alone worships, — the great- 
 ness of high station and brilhant success. 
 
 But it was of the greatness of Lafayette, that he looked 
 down on greatness of the false kind. He learned his lesson 
 in the school of Washington, and took his first practice in 
 victories over himself. Let it be questioned by the venal 
 apologists of time-honored abuses, — let it be sneered at by 
 national prejudice and party detraction ; let it be denied by 
 the admirers of war and conquest ; — by the idolaters of suc- 
 cess, — but let it be gratefully acknowledged by good men ; 
 by Americans, — by every man, who has sense to distinguish 
 character from events ; who has a heart to beat in concert 
 with the pure enthusiasm of virtue. 
 
 But it is more than time, fellow-citizens, that I commit 
 the memory of this great and good man to your unprompted 
 contemplation. On his arrival among you, ten years ago, 
 — when your civil fathers, your military, your children, 
 your whole population poured itself out, as one throng, to 
 salute him, — when your cannons proclaimed his advent with 
 joyous salvos, — and your acclamations were responded from 
 steeple to steeple, by the voice of festal bells, with what de- 
 lio-ht did you not listen to his cordial and affectionate words ; 
 — ' I beg of you all, beloved citizens of Boston, to accept the 
 respectful and warm thanks of a heart which has for nearly 
 half a century been devoted to your illustrious city !' That 
 noble heart, — to which, if any object on earth was dear, that 
 object was the country of his early choice, — of his adoption, 
 and his more than regal triumph, — that noble heart will 
 beat no more for your welfare. Cold and motionless, it is 
 already mingling with the dust. While he lived, you 
 thronged with delight to his presence, — you gazed with 
 admiration on his placid features and venerable form, not 
 wholly unshaken by the rude storms of his career ; and now 
 that he is departed, you have assembled in this cradle of the 
 liberties for which, with your fathers, he risked his life, to 
 pay the last honors to his memory. You have thrown open
 
 ON LAFAYETTE, 217 
 
 these consecrated portals to admit the lengthened train, 
 which has come to discharge the last public offices of respect 
 to his name. I'ou have hung these venerable arches, for 
 the second time since their erection, with the sable badges 
 of sorrow. You have thus associated the meraoiy of La- 
 fayette in those distinguished honors, which but a few years 
 since you paid to your Adams and Jefferson ; and could your 
 wishes and mine have prevailed, my lips would this day 
 have been mute, and the same illustrious voice which gave 
 utterance to your filial emotions over their honored graves, 
 would have spoken also, for you, over him who shared their 
 earthly labors, — enjoyed their friendship, — and has now 
 gone to share their last repose, and their imperishable re- 
 membrance. 
 
 There is not, throughout the world, a friend of liberty, 
 who has not dropped his head, when he has heard that La' 
 fayette is no more. Poland, Italy, Greece, Spain, Ireland, 
 the South American Republics, — every country v/here man 
 is sti'ussling to recover his birthright, — has lost a benefac- 
 tor, a patron, in Lafayette. But you, young men, at whose 
 command I speak, for you a bright and particular lodestar 
 is henceforward fixed in the front of heaven. What young 
 man that reflects on the history of Lafayette, — that sees 
 him in the morning of his days the associate of sages, — the 
 friend of Washington, — but will start with new vigor on 
 the path of duty and renown ? 
 
 And what was it, fellow-citizens, which gave to our La- 
 fayette his spotless fame ? The love of liberty. What 
 has consecrated his memory in hearts of good men ? The 
 love of liberty. What nerved his youthful arm with 
 strength, and inspired him in the morning of his days, with 
 sagacity and counsel ? The living love of Ubei'ty. To 
 what did he sacrifice power, and rank, and country, and 
 freedom itself ? To the horror of licentiousness ; — to the 
 sanctity of plighted faith ; — to the love of liberty protected 
 by law. Thus the great principle of your revolutionary 
 19
 
 218 Everett's eulogy. 
 
 fathers, of your pilgrim sires, the great principle of the age, 
 was the rule of his life : The love of liberty protected by law. 
 You have now assembled within these celebrated walls, to 
 perform the last duties of respect and love, on the birth day 
 of your benefactor, beneath that roof which has resounded of 
 old with the master voices of American renown. The spirit 
 of the departed is in high communion with that spirit of the 
 place ; — the temple worthy of the new name which we now 
 behold inscribed on its walls. Listen, Americans, to the les- 
 sons which seem borne to us on the very air we breathe, 
 while we perform these dutiful rites ! Ye winds, that wafted 
 the Pilgrims to the land of promise, fan, in their children's 
 hearts, the love of freedom ; — Blood, which our father's 
 shed, cry from the ground; — Echoing arches of this re- 
 nowned hall, whisper back the voices of other days ; — Glo- 
 rious Washington, break the long silence of that votive can- 
 vass ; — Speak, speak, marble lips, teach us the love of 
 
 LIBERTY PROTECTED BY LAW !
 
 EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE AUTHOR'S BEING INAUGURATED 
 PRESIDENT OF AMHERST COLLEGE. 
 
 BY HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D. 
 
 — oo©— 
 
 Convened as we are this day, in the portals of science 
 and literature, and with their arduous heights and profound 
 depths and Elysian fields before us, education offers itself as 
 the inspiring theme of our present meditations. This in a 
 free, enlightened, and christian state, is confessedly a subject 
 of the highest moment. How can the diamond reveal its 
 lustre from beneath incumbent rocks and earthly strata? 
 How can the marble speak, or stand forth in all the divine 
 symmetry of the human form, till it is taken from the quarry 
 and fashioned by the hand of the artist ? And how can 
 man be intelligent, happy, or useful, without the culture and 
 discipline of education ? It is this that smooths and polishes 
 the roughnesses of his nature. It is this, that unlocks the 
 prison house of his mind and brings out the captive. It is 
 the transforming hand of education, which is now, in so 
 many heathen lands, moulding savageness and ignorance, 
 pagan fanaticism and brutal stupidity, revenge and treach- 
 ery and lust — and in short, all the warring elements of our 
 lapsed nature, into the various forms of exterior decency, of 
 mental Bymmetry, and of christian loveliness. It is educa- 
 tion that pours light into the understanding, lays up its 
 golden treasures in the memory, softens the asperities of 
 the temper, cheeks the waywardness of passion and appe-
 
 220 
 
 HUMPHREY S 
 
 tite, and trains to habits of industry, temperance, and be- 
 nevolence. It is this which quaUfies men for the pulpit, the 
 senate, the bar, the art of healing, and the bench of justice. 
 It is to education, to its domestic agents, its schools and 
 colleges, its universities and literary societies, that the 
 world is indebted for a thousand comforts and elegancies of 
 civiUzed life, for almost every useful art, discovery, and in- 
 vention. 
 
 In a word, education, regarding man as a rational, ac- 
 eountable and immortal being, elevates, expands, and en- 
 riches his mind ; cultivates the best affections of his heart ; 
 pours a thousand sweet and gladdening streams around the 
 dweUings of the poor as well as the mansions of the rich, 
 and while it greatly multiplies and enhances the enjoyments 
 of time, helps to train up the soul for the bliss of eternity. 
 
 How extremely important, then, is every inquiry which 
 relates to the philosophy of the human mind — to the early 
 discipline and cultivation of its noble powers — to the com- 
 parative merits and defects of classical books and prevailing- 
 systems of instruction — to the advantages accruing from 
 mathematical and other abstruse studies — to the means of 
 educating the children of the poor in our public seminaries 
 — to the present state of science and literature in our coun- 
 try ; and to the animating prospects which are opening 
 before us. All these topics and many more, present them- 
 selves to the enlightened and philanthropic mind, as it looks 
 abroad from some commanding eminence, or ranges at leis- 
 ure over the wide and busy fields of human improvement. 
 It must be obvious, however, upon a moment's reflection, 
 that it would take many a long day to traverse a space so 
 ample ; to drink at every CastaUan fountain by the way ; to 
 take the altitudes]of Parnassus ; to measure th esteeps of sci- 
 ence ; and to see what is going forward in a thousand splendid 
 literary halls and wonder-working laboratories. How little, 
 then, can be done within the brief hour, which is allotted to 
 the present exercises. Upon many very interesting objects
 
 INAUGUKAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 221 
 
 and enclosures we can scarcely bestow a passing. glance, 
 and can linger for a few moments only, where most we 
 might love to dwell, or at least to sit down at our leisure 
 and enjoy the goodly prospect. 
 
 In treating of education, we may advantageously divide 
 the subject, into the three great branches of ■physical, intel- 
 lectual, and moral improvement. Under these topics, we 
 shall include all that is requisite to form a sound and healthy 
 body, a vigorous and well stored mind, and a good heart. 
 If the first of these, or what I choose to call the physical 
 part of education, has not been fully overlooked, (as it cer- 
 tainly has not,) in our most popular systems, still it may 
 well be questioned, whether it has yet received that degree 
 of attention, which its immense importance demands. 
 
 Such, in our present condition, is the mysterious connex- 
 ion between body and mind, that the one cannot act, except 
 on a very limited scale, without the assistance of the other. 
 The immortal agent must have an ' earthly house' to dwell in ; 
 and it is essential to vigorous and healthful mental action, that 
 this house should be well built, and that it should be kept in 
 good repair. Now, it is the province of physical education, 
 to erect the building, and in carrying it up to have special 
 reference to its firmness and durability ; so that the unseen 
 tenant, who is sent down to occupy it, may enjoy every 
 convenience, and be enabled to work to the very best advan- 
 tage. 
 
 That is undoubtedly the wisest and best regimen, which 
 takes the infant from the cradle, and conducts him along 
 through childhood and youth, up to high maturity, in such 
 a manner, as to give strength to his arm, swiftness to hie 
 feet, solidity and amplitude to his muscles, symmetry to his 
 frame, and expansion to all his vital energies. It is obvi- 
 ous, that this branch of education, comprehends not only 
 food and clothing ; but air, exercise, lodging, early rising, 
 and whatever else may contribute to the full dcvelopement 
 
 of the physical constitution. 
 19*
 
 222 Humphrey's 
 
 If, then, you would see the son of your prayers and hopes, 
 blooming with health, and rejoicing daily in the full and 
 sparkling tide of youthful buoyancy ; if you would make 
 him strong and athletic and careless of fatigue ; if you 
 Mould fit him for hard labor and safe exposure to winter and 
 summer ; or if you would prepare him to sit down twelve 
 hours in a day over Euclid, Enfield, and Newton, and stiU 
 presence his health, you must lay the foundation accordingly. 
 You must begin with him early, must teach him self-denial, 
 and gradually subject him to such hardships, as will help to 
 consolidate his frame and give increasing energy to all his 
 physical powers. His diet must be simple, his apparel must 
 not be too warm, nor his bed too soft. Beware of too much 
 tenderness and restraint, in the management of your darling 
 boy. 
 
 Never suffer yourself to bs discomposed by his sand hills 
 in the road, his snow forts in February, or his muddams in 
 April ; — nor when you chance to look out in an August 
 shower, and see him wading and sporting along with the 
 water-fowl. If you would make him hardy and enterprising, 
 let him go abroad with perfect freedom, in his early boyhood, 
 and amuse himself by the hour together, on the ice, and in 
 the snow drifts. Instead of keeping him shut up all day, 
 and graduating his sleeping room by Fahrenheit, let him 
 face the keen edge of the north wind, when the mercury is 
 below cypher, and instead of minding a little shivering when 
 he returns, applaud his resolution, and encourage him to 
 sally out again. In this way, you will teach him that he 
 was not born to live in the nursery, nor to brood over the 
 kitchen fire ; but to range abroad as free as the air, and to 
 gain warmth from exercise. I love and admire the youth, 
 who turns not back from the howling wintry blast, nor with- 
 ers under the blaze of summer : — vfho never magnifies 'mole- 
 hills into mountains' but whose daring eye, scales the eagle's 
 airy crag, and who is ready to undertake anything that is 
 lawful, within the range of possibility.
 
 INAUGURAL DISCOURSE. 223 
 
 Who would think of planting the mountain oak in a green 
 house, or of rearing the cedar of Lebanon in a lady's flower 
 pot ? Who does not know that in order to attain their 
 mighty strength and majestic forms, they must freely enjoy 
 the rain and the sunshine, and feel the rocking of the tem- 
 pest ? Who would think of raising up a band of Indian 
 warriors, upon cakes and jellies and beds of down, and amid 
 all the luxuries and ease of wealth and carefulness ? The 
 attempt would be highly preposterous, not to say supremely 
 ridiculous. It is the plain and scanty fare of these sons of 
 the forest, their hard and cold lodging, their long marches 
 and fastings, and their constant exposure to all the hard- 
 ships of the wilderness, which give them such Herculean 
 limbs and stature ; such prodigious might in the deadly fray, 
 and such swiftness of foot in pursuing the vanquished. 
 
 I am far, however, from saying, that such training, would 
 ensure to every child the arm of Achilles, or the courage of 
 Logan, or the constitution and daring of Martin Luther. 
 Some would doubtless sink under the discipline ; but not 
 near so many, as is generally supposed. The truth is, there 
 is a mistaken tenderness which daily interferes v.'ith the 
 health-giving economy of heaven. Too many parents, in- 
 stead of building upon the foundation which God has laid, 
 first subvert that foundation by misplaced indulgences, and 
 then vainly attempt to build among the ruins. They so 
 cross and perplex nature, in her efforts to make their chil- 
 dren strong and healthy, that she at length refuses to do 
 anything, and the doating parents are left to patch up 
 the shattered and puny constitution as well as they can, 
 with tonics and essences. In this way, not a few young 
 men of good talents, are rendered physically incapable of 
 pursuing their studies to any advantage. They can never 
 bear the fatigue of close and long continued application. 
 The mind would gladly work, but the earthly tabernacle is 
 so extremely frail, that every vigorous effort shakes it to 
 the foundation. It is like setting up the machinery of an
 
 224 Humphrey's 
 
 iron works, in a mere shed, without studs or braces — or like 
 attempting to raise the steam for a large ship in a tin 
 boiler. Whatever talents a youth may possess, he can ac- 
 complish but little, without a good constitution to sustain 
 his mental efforts ; and such a constitution is not a blessing 
 to be enjoyed of course. Like almost every other gift of 
 heaven, it is to be obtained by human providence, and in 
 the use of means adapted to the end. How many who begin 
 well, ultimately fail of eminence and usefulness, through ex. 
 cessive tenderness and for want of skill and care in their early 
 physical education, it is impossible to say ; but that many 
 a young man is doomed to lingering imbecility, or to a pre- 
 mature grave by this kind of mismanagement, and that the 
 subject on which I have hazarded the foregoing remarks, is 
 intimately connected with the vital interests of the church, 
 and the state, will not, I think, be questioned. 
 
 In looking round, this day, from the spot where we now 
 stand ; in thinking of the past and then of the future, what 
 emotions of gratitude and hope fill the benevolent mind ! 
 Whence these walls, built in troublous times— these goodly 
 edifices, which greet the eye and gladden the heart from 
 afar ? Whence this youthful band of brethren, dwelling to. 
 gether in unity, improving their minds by an elevated course 
 of study, and so many of them walking, as we trust, in the 
 ' ways of pleasantness and in the paths of peace ?' Whence 
 all that our eyes now see and our ears hear ? Verily God 
 hath heard the prayers of his servants, and blessed the work 
 of their hands. Hitherto, may they say, hath the Lord 
 helped us ! 
 
 And will he frown all that is before us into ruins and for. 
 getfulness ? Will he forsake this comely daughter of Zion 
 in her tender years, and after giving her so many tokens of 
 his favor ? We cannot bcheve it. He may afflict her still 
 more, but surely he will cherish her growth, he will comfort
 
 INAUGURAL DISCOURSE. 225 
 
 her heart, he will raise her up friends. Under his smiles 
 and sustained by his arm, she will hold on her way, and as 
 she advances, will scatter blessings with both her hands upon 
 many, who are famishing for the bread of life. She will not 
 envy her elder sisters, who have riches, ward-robes, and are 
 moving in higher spheres than her own : — but she will em- 
 ulate their virtues, rejoice in their prosperity, strive to de- 
 serve their affection, and seek for herself that ' adorning of 
 a meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of great 
 price.' In this quiet, modest, and beneficent course, who 
 can wish her anything but success? Where is the hand, 
 that would rudely thrust her back, or the heart that can tri- 
 umph in her disappointments, — that can rejoice in her 
 afflictions ? Should she be ' reviled, however, let her net 
 revile again.' Should ' one cheek be smitten, let her turn 
 the other also!' Let the same mind be in her which was iu 
 Christ Jesus, and she can have nothing to fear. 
 
 As we cast our eyes down the long track of time, from 
 this consecrated eminence, how many bright and interest- 
 ing visions crowd upon our view. We, indeed, shall soon 
 be gone ; but other generations will come, and what may 
 they not enjoy and accomplish, canopied as they will be, by 
 these Arcadian skies, invigorated by the pure breath of 
 these mountains, and inspired to rapture and to song as they 
 look abroad upon all the riches, life, and beauty of this great 
 amphitheatre ] How many favored sons of this institution, 
 will hold sweet converse here, with the muse that loves the 
 hill of Zion ! How many statesmen, historians, and orators 
 will be trained on this ground, to shine in senates, to grace 
 the bar, to adorn the bench of justice, and to record the 
 doings of the wise, the brave, and the good ! But more than 
 all, what may not this seminary do for the churches at home 
 — what victories may she not gain in distant lands, by 
 sending forth her sons under the banner of the cross, and
 
 226 Humphrey's discourse. 
 
 clad in armor of heavenly temper to fight the battles of 
 her King? 
 
 Who is there in this assembly, that is not ready to answer, 
 May these glowing anticipations be more than realized, in 
 the future prosperity and usefulness of this Institution ? May 
 it live to gladden and bless the church through all future 
 generations ; and in that world, where holiness is perfect 
 and knowledge is transcendant, may all its founders, patrons, 
 and friends meet, and dwell together forever in the presence 
 of God and the Lamb.
 
 EXTRACT FROM AN ORATION, 
 
 DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, DECEMBER 22, 1824, 
 
 BY EDWARD EVERETT. 
 
 No character is perfect among nations, more than among 
 men ; but it must needs be conceded, that after our own 
 country, England is the most favored abode of hberty ;• or 
 rather, tliat besides our own it is the only land where liberty 
 can be said to exist ; the only land where the voice of the 
 sovereign is not stronger than the voice of the law. We 
 can scarce revolve with patience, the idea, that we might 
 have been a Spanish colony, a Portuguese colony, or a 
 Dutch colony ; we can scarcely compare with coolness, the 
 inheritance of those institutions, which were transmitted to 
 us by our fathers, with that which we must have received 
 from almost any other country ; absolute government, mili- 
 tary despotism, and the holy inquisition. What would have 
 been the condition of this flourishing and happy land, had 
 these been the institutions, on which its settlement was 
 founded ? There are, unfortunately, too many materials for 
 answering this question, in the history of the Spanish and 
 Portuguese settlements on the American continent, from 
 the first moment of unrelenting waste and desolation, to the 
 distractions and conflicts, of which we ourselves are the wit- 
 nesses. What hope can there be for the colonies of nations, 
 which possess themselves no spring of improvement ; and 
 tolerate none in the regions over which they rule ; whose 
 administration sets no bright examples of political independ- 
 ence ; whose languages send out no reviving lessons of sound
 
 228 Everett's oration, 
 
 and practical science, (afraid of nothing that is true,) of 
 manly literature, of free speculation; but repeat, with every 
 ship that crosses the Atlantic, the same debasing voice of 
 despotism, credulity, superstition, and slavery ? 
 
 What citizen of our republic is not grateful, in the con- 
 trast which our history presents ? Who does not feel, what 
 reflecting American does not acknowledge, the incalculable 
 advantages derived to this land, out of the deep foundations 
 of civil, intellectual, and moral truth, from which we have 
 drawn in England ? What American does not feel proud that 
 he is descended from the countrymen of Bacon, of Newton, 
 and of Locke ? Who does not know, that while every pulse of 
 civil liberty in the heart of the British empire beat warm and 
 full in the bosom of our fathers ; the sobriety, the firmness, 
 and the dignity with which the cause of free principles 
 struggled into existence here, constantly found encourage- 
 ment and countenance from the sons of liberty there ? Who 
 does not remember, that when the Pilgrims went over the 
 sea, the prayers of the faithful British confessors, in all the 
 quarters of their dispersion, went over with them, while 
 their aching eyes were strained, till the star of hope should 
 go up in the western skies ? And who will ever forget, that 
 in that eventful struggle, which severed this mighty empire 
 from the British crown, there was not heard, throughout 
 our continent in arms, a voice which spoke louder for the 
 rights of America, than that of Burke or of Chatham, within 
 the walls of the British parliament, and at the foot of the 
 British throne ? No, for myself, I can truly say, that after 
 my native land, I feel a tenderness and a reverence for that 
 of my fathers. The pride I take in my own country makes 
 me respect that from which we are sprung. In touching 
 the soil of England, I seem to return, like a descendant, to 
 the old family seat ; — to come back to the abode of an aged 
 and venerable parent. I acknowledge this great consan- 
 guinity of nations. The sound of my native language be- 
 yond the sea, is a music to my ear, beyond the richest strains
 
 AT PLYMOUTH. 229 
 
 Tuscan softness, or Castiliun majesty. I am not yet in a 
 land of strangers, while surrounded by the manners, the 
 habits, the forms, in which I have been brought up. I wan- 
 der delighted through a thousand scenes, which the histori- 
 ans, the poets, have made familiar to us, — of which the 
 names are interwoven with our earliest associations. I 
 tread with reverence, the spots, where I can retrace the 
 footsteps of our suffering fathers ; the pleasant land of their 
 birth has a claim on my heart. It seems to me a classic, 
 yea, a holy land, rich in the memory of the great and good ; 
 the martyrs of liberty, the exiled heralds of truth ; and 
 richer, as the parent of this land of promise in the west. 
 
 I am not, — I need not say I am not, — the panegyrist of 
 England. I am not dazzled by her riches, nor awed by her 
 power. The sceptre, the mitre, and the coronet, — stars^ 
 garters, and blue ribbons, — seem to me poor things for great 
 men to contend for. Nor is my admiration awakened by 
 her armies mustered for the battles of Europe ; her navies 
 overshadowing the ocean ; nor her empire grasping the 
 farthest East. It is these, and the price of guilt and blood 
 by which they are maintained, which are the cause why no 
 friend of Uberty can salute her with undivided affections. 
 But it is the refuge of free principles, though often persecu- 
 ted ; the school of religious liberty, the more precious for 
 the struggles to which it has been called ; the tombs of those 
 who have reflected honor on all who speak the English 
 tongue ; it is the birth-place of our fathers, the home of the 
 Pilgrims ; it is these which I love and venerate in England. 
 I should feel ashamed of an enthusiasm for Italy and Greece, 
 did I not also feel it for a land like this. In an American it 
 would seem to me degenerate and ungrateful, to hang with 
 passion upon the traces of Homer and Virgil, and follow 
 without emotion the nearer and plainer footsteps of Shaks- 
 peare and Milton ; and I should think him cold in his Iovq 
 for his native land, who felt no melting in his heart for that 
 other native land, which holds the ashes of his forefathers. 
 
 20
 
 230 evehett's oration, 
 
 But it was not enough that our fathers were of Eng- 
 land : the masters of Ireland, and the lords of Hindostan 
 are of England too. But our fathei's were Englishmen, 
 aggrieved, persecuted and banished. It is a principle, amply 
 borne out by the history of the great and powerful nations 
 of the earth, and by that of none more than the country of 
 which we speak, that the best fruits and choicest action of 
 the commendable qualities of the national character, are 
 to be found on the side of the oppressed few, and not of the 
 triumphant many. As in private character, adversity is 
 often requisite to give a proper direction and temper to 
 strong qualities, so the noblest traits of national character, 
 even under the freest and most independent of hereditary 
 governments, are commonly to be sought in the ranks of a 
 protesting minority, or of a dissenting sect. Never was 
 this truth more clearly illustrated than in the settlement of 
 New-England. 
 
 Could a common calculation of policy have dictated the 
 terms of that settlement, no doubt our foundations would 
 have been laid beneath the royal smile. Convoys and na- 
 vies would have been solicited to waft our fathers to the 
 coast ; armies, to defend the infant communities ; and the 
 flattering patronage of princes and lords, to espouse their 
 interests in the councils of the mother country. Happy, 
 that our fathers enjoyed no such patronage ; happy, that 
 they fell into no such protecting hands; happy, that our 
 foundations were silently and deeply cast in quiet insignifi- 
 cance, beneath a charter of banishment, persecution, and 
 contempt ; so that when the royal arm was at length out- 
 stretched against us, instead of a submissive child, tied down 
 by former graces, it found a youthful giant in the land, born 
 amidst hardships, and nourished on the rocks, indebted for 
 no favors, and owing no duty. From the dark portals of 
 the star chamber, and in the stern text of the acts of uni- 
 formity, the Pilgrims received a commission, more efficient 
 than any that ever bore the royal seal. Their banishment
 
 AT PLYMOUTH. 231 
 
 to Holland was fortunate ; the decline oftheir little company 
 in a strange land was fortunate ; the difficulties which they 
 experienced in getting the royal consent to banish them- 
 selves to this wilderness were fortunate ; all the tears and 
 hoart breakings of that ever memorable parting at Delftha- 
 ven, had the happiest influence on the rising destinies of 
 New England. All this purified the ranks of the settlers. 
 These rough touches of fortune brushed off the light, uncer- 
 tain, selfish spirits. They made it a grave, solemn, self- 
 denying expedition. They cast a broad shadow of thought 
 and seriousness over the cause, and if this sometimes 
 deepened into melancholy and bitterness, can we find no 
 apology for such a human weakness ? 
 
 It is sad indeed to reflect on tl>e 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."
 
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