Franklin’s Appeal for Prayer at the Constitutional Convention

The Constitutional Convention

Although authorized by the Congress of the Confederation, the Constitutional Convention of 1787 was nevertheless cloaked with secrecy and confidentiality. The official papers of the Convention sat in the Department of State, untouched, until 1818. Yet in retrospect, the gathering reveals both the men and the issues they faced during the founding era. Through analysis of both the Philadelphia debates and the various ratification conventions, we realize the concerns and needs of a developing nation.

Men of means and education pursued a limited, federal government capable of providing political and economic stability in a land of diverse sectional interests. The fight for freedom had been experiential; much of the struggle for structure and unity would be theoretical. The doctrines of scholars would meet with the practical necessities of an emerging nation, resulting in a balanced blend of pragmatism and principle, the Constitution of the United States of America.

However, one of the most controversial issues, State’s representation, could have nullified the entire process. Tempers flared and interests clashed as the delegates sought their respective goals. It was within this quagmire of divisiveness that the elder statesman, Benjamin Franklin, offered his famous appeal for harmony and conciliation, an appeal for God’s intervention.

His solicitation seems almost out of character with our current understanding of the man. Wasn’t he a deist, believing in the clockmaker God who stepped back to watch the hands of time move toward eternity? Could God govern in the affairs of men, or nations, from such a distance? Perhaps Franklin’s appeal for prayer was out of despair and desperation; perhaps he was senile as some suggest; or perhaps we have misunderstood Franklin’s deism, misreading the man in the coonskin cap.

William Steele’s Account

Confusion still surrounds Franklin’s efforts, however. The primary source of this confusion appears to be a letter from William Steele to his son, Jonathan. Written in September 1825, the letter contained William’s recollection of a conversation with General Jonathan Dayton. (Dayton was a member of the Constitutional Convention and afterwards Speaker of the House of Representatives). This account also found its way into at least one national periodical, the National Intelligencer, and other sources as well. As Steele tells it, Dayton offered this account of Franklin’s words:

We have arrived, Mr. President . . . at a very momentous and interesting crisis in our deliberations. Hitherto our views have been as harmonious, and our progress as great as could reasonably have been expected. But now an unlooked for and formidable obstacle is thrown in our way, which threatens to arrest our course, and, if not skillfully removed, to render all our fond hopes of a constitution abortive.

It is, however, to be feared that the members of this Convention are not in a temper, at this moment, to approach the subject in which we differ, in this spirit. I would, therefore, propose, Mr. President, that, without proceeding further in this business at this time, the Convention shall adjourn for three days, in order to let the present ferment pass off, and to afford time for a more full, free, and dispassionate investigation of the subject; and I would earnestly recommend to the members of this Convention, that they spend the time of this recess, not in associating with their own party, and devising new arguments to fortify themselves in their old opinions, but that they mix with members of opposite sentiments, lend a patient ear to their reasonings, and candidly allow them all the weight to which they may be entitled; and when we assemble again, I hope it will be with a determination to form a constitution, if not such an one as we can individually, and in all respects, approve, yet the best, which, under existing circumstances, can be obtained.

(Here the countenance of Washington brightened, and a cheering ray seemed to break in upon the gloom which had recently covered our political horizon.) The doctor continued:

Before I sit down, Mr. President, I will suggest another matter; and I am really surprised that it has not been proposed by some other member at an earlier period of our deliberations. I will suggest, Mr. President, that propriety of nominating and appointing, before we separate, a chaplain to this Convention, whose duty it shall be uniformly to assemble with us, and introduce the business of each day by and address to the Creator of the universe, and the Governor of all nations, beseeching Him to preside in our council, enlighten our minds with a portion of heavenly wisdom, influence our hearts with a love of truth and justice, and crown our labors with complete and abundant success!

The doctor sat down, and never did I [General Dayton] behold a countenance at once so dignified and delighted as was that of Washington, at the close of the address! Nor were the members of the Convention, generally less affected. The words of the venerable Franklin fell upon our ears with a weight and authority, even greater than we may suppose an oracle to have had in a Roman Senate! A silent admiration superseded, for a moment, the expression of that assent and approbation which was strongly marked on almost every countenance.

The Recess

According to Steele, Dayton then recalled Alexander Hamilton’s protest and sarcastic refusal to accept “foreign aid.” And then he continued:

Washington fixed his eye upon the speaker [Hamilton], with a mixture of surprise and indignation, while he uttered this impertinent and impious speech, and then looked around to ascertain in what manner it affected others. They did not leave him a moment to doubt; no one deigned to reply, or take the smallest notice of the speaker, but the motion for appointing a chaplain was instantly seconded and carried; whether under the silent disapprobation of Mr. H___, or his solitary negative, I do not recollect. The motion for an adjournment was then put and carried unanimously, and the Convention adjourned accordingly.

The three days of recess were spent in the manner advised by Doctor Franklin. The opposite parties mixed with each other, and a free and frank interchange of sentiments took place. On the fourth day we assembled again, and if great additional light had not been thrown on the subject, every unfriendly feeling had been expelled; and a spirit of conciliation had been cultivated, which promised, at least, a calm and dispassionate reconsideration of the subject [state’s representation].

William Steele closed the letter confident he had “faithfully stated the facts” motivated by a desire to “perpetuate the facts.” From this source, and others, one might easily draw the conclusion that Franklin’s efforts brought a harmonious reconciliation to the Convention.

James Madison’s Letter

James Madison, however, in a letter to Jared Sparks on April 8, 1831, referred to this account as “erroneously given, with every semblance of authenticity.” And then in another letter to Thomas S. Grimke (January 6, 1834), Madison went further in his clarification concerning the “proposition of Doctor Franklin in favor of a religious service in the Federal Convention.” He said:

The proposition was received and treated with the respect due to it; but the lapse of time which had preceded, with consternations growing out of it, had the effect of limiting what was done, to a reference of the proposition to a highly respectable Committee.

He then continued:

That the communication [Steele’s account of Dayton’s testimony] was erroneous is certain; whether from misapprehension or misrecollection, uncertain.

Journal of the Constitutional Convention

Madison’s Journal originally contained a summary of Franklin’s words. However, in a later revision, he inserted the speech as written in Franklin’s own handwriting. It is the authoritative source concerning the Convention.

Mr. President

The small progress we have made after 4 or five weeks close attendance & continual reasonings with each other,”our different sentiments on almost every question, several of the last producing as many noes and ays, is methinks a melancholy proof of the imperfection of the Human Understanding. We indeed seem to feel our own want of political wisdom, some we have been running about in search of it. We have gone back to ancient history for models of Government, and examined the different forms of those Republics which having been formed with the seeds of their own dissolution now no longer exist. And we have viewed Modern States all round Europe, but find none of their Constitutions suitable to our circumstances.

In this situation of this Assembly, groping as it were in the dark to find political truth, and scarce able to distinguish it when presented to us, how has it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of lights to illuminate our understandings? In the beginning of the Contest with G. Britain, when we were sensible of danger we had daily prayer in this room for the divine protection. ”Our prayers, Sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All of us who were engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances of a Superintending providence in our favor. To that kind providence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful friend? I have lived, Sir, a long time, and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth- that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid? We have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings, that “except the Lord build the House they labour in vain that build it.” I firmly believe this; and I also believe that without his concurring aid we shall succeed in this political building no better than the Builders of Babel: We shall be divided by our little partial local interests; our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall become a reproach and byword down to future ages. And what is worse, mankind may hereafter from this unfortunate instance, despair of establishing Governments be Human Wisdom and leave it to chance, war and conquest.

I therefore beg leave to move, that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessings on our deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning before we proceed to business, and that one or more of the Clergy of the City be requested to officiate in that service.

Mr. Sherman (from Connecticut) seconded the motion.

Mr. Hamilton and several others expressed their apprehensions that however proper such a resolution might have been at the beginning of the convention, it might at this late day, 1, bring on it some disagreeable animadversions [criticisms], and 2, lead the public to believe that the embarrassments and dissensions within the Convention, had suggested this measure. It was answered by [Dr. Franklin], Mr. Sherman and others, that the past omission of a duty could not justify a further omission, that the rejection of such a proposition would expose the Convention to more unpleasant animadversions than the adoption of it: and that the alarm out of doors that might be excited for the state of things within, would at least be as likely to good as ill.

Mr. Williamson, observed that the true cause of the omission could not be mistaken. The Convention had no funds.

Mr. Randolph proposed in order to give a favorable aspect to the measure, that a sermon be preached at the request of the convention on the 4th of July, the anniversary of Independence; and thenceforward prayers be used in the Convention every morning. Dr. Franklin seconded this motion. After several unsuccessful attempts for silently postponing the matter by adjourning was at length carried, without any vote on the motion.

Franklin’s Account

But the final word in this discussion comes from Franklin’s own pen. In John Bigelow’s, The Works of Benjamin Franklin, a footnote (pg. 378) referring to Franklin’s speech states:

To the original draft of this speech there is the following note appended in the handwriting of Dr. Franklin: “The convention, except three or four persons, thought prayer unnecessary.” [This same notation is given as a footnote on page 452 of Max Farrand’s Records of the Federal Convention.]

Bigelow continues by saying “the time which had elapsed without prayers in the convention, sufficiently explains the failures of Franklin’s motions.”

Analysis of the Accounts

The response to Franklin’s motion should not be viewed as an atheistic or deistic expression from the delegates. In their view, prayer was an official ceremony. It required ordained clergy to “officiate,” (as Franklin noted) and the funds to pay them (as Williamson observed). It was not as simple as asking “Brother George” to ask God’s blessings on their deliberations. This was not the general approach to religion during this time in history. Orthodox formality was the preferable style and manner, at least in official settings. For example, when Rev. Duche offered the first prayer in the Continental Congress, he appeared “with his clerk and in his pontificals, and read several prayers in the established form.” Granted, he also unexpectedly “struck out into an extemporary prayer,” but the point is made: religious formality was the order of the day.

Those orders were followed a few days later at the Reformed Calvinist Lutheran Church. In response to Franklin’s appeal, Virginia’s Mr. Randolph offered a counter proposal. He recommended that a “sermon be preached at the request of the convention on the 4th of July, the anniversary of Independence, & thence forward prayers be used in ye Convention every morning.” One report has Washington leading most of the Convention delegates to the church, where James Campbell preached a sermon trusting in the wisdom of the delegates to establish a “free and vigorous government.”

As it turns out, after the Convention, and nine days after the first Constitutional Congress convened with a quorum (April 9, 1789), they implemented Franklin’s recommendation. Two chaplains of different denominations were appointed, one to the House and one to the Senate, with a salary of $500 each. This practice continues today, posing no threat to the First Amendment. How could it? The men who authorized the chaplains wrote the Amendment.

Conclusion

The real strength of Franklin’s motion, from the conservative viewpoint, is as an example of his supposed “deism,” which is a far cry from what some would make it out to be. Franklin obviously felt that God governed in the affairs of men, not exactly the general understanding of today’s deism. But many people attempt to anachronously impose today’s definition upon Franklin, Jefferson, and others, implying they had nothing whatsoever to do with religion. This is usually done to support a broad, separationist approach to religion and government, which is inconsistent with the words and deeds of those who created America’s political system.

Franklin, as well as all of the Framers of the Constitution, realized the value of religion in society. And they realized the value of prayer in the weightier matters of politics. As it turns out, Dr. Franklin was not senile at all; he was simply asking for divine assistance in what proved to be the formation of our American system. Perhaps there were no “official” prayers during the Convention, but denying that the delegates wanted God’s blessing and direction, now that would be senility.

Summary

  • An 1825 letter gave an erroneous account of Franklin’s appeal.
  • Various periodicals circulated the story, assuming it to be correct.
  • Numerous others have presented the inaccurate details.
  • Madison’s 1831 letter called the account erroneous.
  • Madison’s 1834 letter clarified:

The proposition was received and treated with the respect due to it; but the lapse of time which had preceded, with consternations growing out of it, had the effect of limiting what was done, to a reference of the proposition to a highly respectable Committee.

  • Franklin drafted his appeal, and Madison included the written speech in his revised Journal.
  • Franklin offers the final say on the matter:

The convention, except three or four persons, thought prayer unnecessary.

  • However, Virginia’s Mr. Randolph offered a counter proposal: a July Fourth Sermon at the Convention’s request, followed by morning prayers. Washington led most of the delegates to hear the sermon and enjoy the festivities.
  • Although they did not bring in Chaplains, the first Congress instituted a Chaplaincy program that exists to this day.
The Sermon on the Mount Carl Bloch, 1890

Sermon – Artillery – 1835, Massachusetts

John Gorham Palfrey (1796-1881) Biography:

Palfrey’s grandfather, William Palfrey, had been active during the American War for Independence, working for John Hancock, being aide-de-camp for George Washington, and then serving as the Continental Congress’ diplomat to France. The grandson was born during George Washington’s presidency and graduated from Harvard in 1815, during James Madison’s presidency. He studied theology, and three years later in 1818 became pastor of Boston’s Brattle Street Church. In 1831, he left the church to be Professor of Sacred Literature at Harvard, eventually becoming dean of the theological faculty and one of three preachers at the university chapel. Following in his grandfather’s footsteps, he became involved in government, serving in the US House of Representatives from 1842-1843 and 1847-1849, and as Secretary of State in the years between. He served as Boston’s postmaster from 1861-1867, then went to Europe in 1867, serving as US representative to Anti-Slavery Congress in Paris. He penned numerous works, including the History of New England to 1875, The Relationship between Judaism and Christianity, Academical Lectures on the Jewish Scriptures and Antiquities, and Discourse . . . [on] the Second Centennial Anniversary of the Settlement of Cape Cod. He also served as editor of the Commonwealth newspaper and the North American Review.


A Plea for the Militia System 

in A

DISCOURSE

Delivered Before the
Ancient and Honorable
Artillery Company
on Its
197th ANNIVERSARY
June 1, 1835


By J.G. Palfrey, D.D.
Professor in the University of Cambridge

 

Published by the Company’s Request

 

Boston:
Dutton and Wentworth, Printers


DISCOURSE


Apocalypse III.2.
Be watchful; and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die.

One hundred and ninety-eight years ago, my hearers, (the colony of Massachusetts Bay then consisting of only fifteen towns,) the associated founders of the military company, by whose invitation we are to-day assembled, petitioned the governor and council for a charter.  At first it was denied; the council, as the journal of that admirable chief magistrate, the ancestor of the company’s present commander, records, considering from the example of the Praetorian band among the romans, and Templars in Europe, how dangerous it might be to erect a standing authority of military men, which might easily in time over throw the civil power?  By the following year, however, the apprehension had subsided, and the application found more favor; and on the first Monday of June, 1638, the first election of officers took place under a charter, containing, among other peculiar privileges, the provision, that, on the days of the company’s monthly trainings, no ordinary town- meetings should be held within this part of the jurisdiction; a singular testimony to the consequence of men, without whose presence municipal business could not be safely transacted. The object of the institution is set forth in terms of the preamble, which recites, that divers gentlemen and others, out of their care of the public weal and safety, by the advancement of the military art, and exercise of arms, have desired license of the court, to join themselves in one company.  It was designed to be a school of officers; and actually embraced on its first roll the names of all the commissioned officers of the train-bands of the neighboring towns.  These were voluntary associations, which constituted the whole martial force of the colony, till the organization of the militia in four regiments, corresponding to the four counties, in 1644.
            The officers of the militia, like those of the primitive train-bands, continued generally to qualify themselves for their commands, by service in the ranks of the Ancient and Honorable Company.  It was this militia of Massachusetts victoriously through the most gloomy period she ever saw, that of the Indian wars, at the close of the seventeenth century; and which humbled the French power in this western world before that of England, in the war of 1753 to 17561.  It was the militia of Massachusetts, which, after standing alone the first shock of the revolutionary contest, furnished one soldier in every four, through the war which followed, to the continental army; and which, (to speak of a less conspicuous service, yet one on which the salvation of the commonwealth, and of the sovereignty of cis-atlantic law depended,) crushed, in 1786, the insurrection in the western counties.
            When, in the more recent war, an exasperated enemy, its vast resources just let loose from the fields of continental Europe, was hovering on our coast, and the national forces were withdrawn to the inland frontier, so complete was the militia organization, that, at twenty hours’ notice, companies fully equipped and provisioned, had in several  instances reached, from twenty miles’ distance, the point of alarm; and they garrisoned satisfactorily the line of maritime forts, which the national troops had abandoned, thus securing the ports and cities.
            But, after the time of danger had past, the militia began to be affected by other influences.  The decline of its own efficiency, along with the course which public opinion took in relation to it, is to be seen in the history of laws, thenceforward from time to time enacted.  In 1823, the three legal company trainings in a year, in addition to the annual spring inspection, and autumnal review, were reduced to one.  In 1830, all persons, between the ages of thirty and forty-five, were exempted from military service; a measure of course attended by a vast reduction of numbers, and a great inconvenience, (in religion thinly people,) in collecting sufficient numbers for purposes of discipline.  And, in 1834, all parades, independent of the annual inspection of arms, were abolished, except for volunteer companies; and the members of these were authorized to withdraw on giving six months’ notice.
            The consequence of these measures has been probably much more destructive to the militia system, than their advocates anticipated; certainly more speedily destructive than their opponents fore-told.  The volunteer companies, kept together hitherto by an ambition in their members to do better than others what all were compelled at any rate to do, and required now, when collected in masses, to assemble at points distant from one another, are, far and near, rapidly disbanding; and the public pecuniary bounty, (though it has been raised this very year,) being what a Massachusetts citizen is unused to taking, for preparing to defend his own fireside and freedom, apparently does absolutely nothing to obstruct the tendency.  Officers, elected to the highest posts, finding no attraction in a command, which is only not nominal when it calls for some obnoxious exercise of authority, are constantly declining to serve at all, or soliciting to be discharged. And into such contempt, under such circumstances, has the institution fallen, that it was actually found necessary to enact a law, at the last session of the General Court, authorizing the commander in chief to withhold commissions from “idiots, lunatics, common drunks, vagabonds, paupers, and persons convicted of infamous crimes, when elected to militia commands; several instances of such elections being known to have occurred.
            Being brought into this place, by the flattering indulgence of this company, but without any expectation or any wish of my own, I would use the opportunity, in endeavoring to say a word, (which I hope and pray may be spoken in the spirit, becoming a well-intentioned citizen, and a Christian minister,) in behalf of the once efficient and admired, now apparently expiring militia system of Massachusetts.  And if I argue against the fitness of existing laws, I offer no disrespect to the law-making power.  The system is all unsettled.  To a great extent it is acknowledged to be so.  Should I exaggerate much, if I alleged  that there is a universal conviction, that, if the militia system is not to be sustained, some existing burdens may and should be dispensed with; and that if it is to be sustained, the existing laws are altogether insufficient?—and I do not content myself with saying, that the Federal Constitution, the paramount law of the land, requires that it be sustained,  because the case will be more satisfactorily rested on its own merits; though I confess I do not see, how anyone can take the oath of office to support that Constitution, who means to use his authority  to the sacrifice of the militia system, or to neglect even to afford it his positive support.
            I perceive no more convenient way of approaching the point at which I aim, than by adverting to some of the causes, which may have led to encroachments upon the ancient organization.  When I have asked for these, I have sometimes been referred to the progress of principles of international peace, as indicated and extended by the formation of Peace Societies.  With some opportunities of judging, (not perhaps, however, such as would authorize me to speak with confidence,) I believe that this cause has had no very considerable operation.  I believe it, and I hope it.  I hope it, as a friend to the militia system, against which I should be distressed to think, that the influence of a large body of active and philanthropic men as to be enlisted, on the ground of an erroneous abstract principle; the militia system, the trustworthy instrument of defensive war, and the safe substitute for that institution of standing armies, whose tendencies are essentially offensive.  I hope it, as a friend to Peace Societies, which could hardly be more discredited or checked, than by identification with them of the theory of the unlawfulness of defensive war.  I am no skeptic respecting either the excellence or the practicability of that enterprise, in which these societies have been engaged.  When I mark the wide action of the renovated power of Christianity, to control those bad actions from which almost all wars, (shall I say, all wars, if traced to the encroaching party?) have proceeded; the juster style of reasoning, which to a great extent prevails, on questions both of moral right and of public interest; the multiplied relations of commercial and literary, yes, and of religious intercourse, to which war brings interruption and disturbance; and the increased and increasing power of the people, whose interest offensive war can never be;–when I turn to facts, and observe what a constantly progressive triumph of humanity there has been, upon the whole, in amelioration of the practices of war, and what a revolution  of sentiment has been witnessed, even within the century, in respect to usages hardly before suspected, such, for instance, as that of the private pillage, (under public commission, but for private gain,) of property upon the ocean,–a revolution so great, that now, I will not say a conscientious man, but a man who had a character to keep, could hardly, I suppose, be found to touch the unclean thing, and many a one, with no fastidious sensibility either, would well-nigh as soon suffer himself to be called a pirate, as to be called a privateers man;–when I remember, that the scheme of a court of nation has, in these last years, actually been put in force, if under circumstances going to impair the worth of the example, through the exhibition of selfish designs, still in a way perfectly to illustrate the capacity of the plan to be prosecuted to ends of beneficence and justice, when the point of honor should be deficiently raised by mutual pledges and a sense of judicial responsibility;– and when I advert o such instances, as that of our own last controversy with England, submitted to the arbitration of an inferior mutually friendly power, rather than to the chance of arms, simply because the parties were wise enough to see, that the morals, and dignity, and interests of both, dictated this for the reasonable course; when I weigh these and other truths and facts, most important in the connection, I see, my hearers, ample, overflowing encouragement for labors designed to teach the nations, that they ought, and that they can, and they had better, live together as brethren.
            But, if any go further, and say, that life, and children, and liberty, and country, are never to be forcibly defended against unlawful violence, I find myself obliged to diverge from the path of such.  I must do it, following my own convictions of duty as a reasonable and a Christian man.  In my view, they read very erroneously the book of God’s will, equally as it is written on fleshly tables of the heart, and on the pages of recorded revelation.  I am tempted to ask myself have they weighed that whereof they affirm.  Does their imagination represent to them no extreme case, (–for let it be observed, the very question they raise, is on extreme cases, no other,–) in which they would think it an unlawful abandonment of duty, not to resist, to the last violence, the violent hand?  Let them answer that inquiry to their own consciences.  I find only one way of answering it to mine. I make no question here of rights of self-defence; of privilege, and the like.  I know no privilege to be brought into such considerations, except that of doing the will of God, our Maker and our Judge, to the best of our knowledge and the utmost of our power.  The life he gave me is his trust resting with me.  I am bound to use it for his glory, in the promotions of the objects for which he made me to live.  As different circumstances, the basis of different obligations, dictate, I may so use it by keeping or by resigning it.  The one or the other may become my duty; and whichever becomes my duty, that I am cheerfully to do.  In God’s service, (that is, in the way of acting my own allotted part,) I must be as ready to carry my life to the scaffold or the stake, as to the field of battle; so I must be as ready to give my own life or that of others on the battle-field, as my own on the scaffold or at the stake.  Let each determine the question, for his own government.  But I must be further advised, before I perceive how a good hope for eternity could be reasonably enjoyed upon a death-bed, by him, who, in the one case, any one than in the other, had shrunk from the terrible appeal. 
            Am I told, however, that our Lord himself said, ‘Resist not evil?’  He did say it; and let it be observed, that the words prohibit , not sanguinary resistance, not forcible or restraining resistance, but all resistance, all obstructing of the evil-doer, whatsoever.  Taken then from an unlimited rule of universal action, they would no more directly, and absolutely, and unequivocally, prohibit military defense, than they would forbid the public officer to hold back the incendiary’s hands while he applied the match to a granary, or charge the keeper to desist, who was binding a madman.—I cannot go here into a question of scriptural interpretation.  But does this remark suggest the propriety of inquiring, whether the precept in question was not intended to bear upon the course of persons, commissioned under peculiar circumstance, to a peculiar duty, which duty, under those circumstances, the course thus prescribed was the appropriate ne to perform?  The text connecting itself, so far, with that other in the same discourse, where the same persons seem to be directed to have no more care for their sustenance, than did the fowls of the air and the lilies of the field, and with the direction to the disciples to take no money for the journey, nor scrip, nor staff, nor so much as a change of garments.  Arrangements for personal accommodation would obstruct the object.  Therefore, these were to be forborne, and God would supply the want.  Resistance on the part of the early preachers of our religion would have been unavailing.  It would also have prematurely exasperated against them an exterminating power.  It would have lost them the hearing, which it was their special business to obtain.  Non-resistance, under their peculiar circumstances, was their safety and strength.  So it may, no doubt, under the like, or under different circumstances, be ours; and then it will also become our duty.  But to make the precept quoted sustain the inference sometimes deduced, one must first show, either that it was designed for universal application, or else that there is a similarity between the case which it contemplated, and that to which it is now applied, as to give it an equal applicability to both.  And in either result, I think, certainly in the former, the precept will then require to be taken in the large comprehensiveness at which I just now hinted; a fact which seems to have been wholly overlooked.
            When it is further urged, that non-resistance has, in instances, which are appealed to, actually proved the most effectual protection, I suppose that no inference can be safely drawn from an induction so exceedingly limited as has been made, except of a truth which needs little confirmation, however much more consideration It may deserve; namely, that a kind and inoffensive deportment, is, to the extent that other causes allow it to operate, a most conciliating quality; to which I would add, that it may be not the less, but the more so, when it is known that he, who practices it, will defend himself from outrage in the last resort.  Surely no one would undertake to argue, on such grounds, I the face of all the history of man that the inoffensive are exposed to no wrong or that cupidity and brutality will be infallibly disarmed, as often as they can be indulged without opposition or hazard.—But I must leave this subject.  To undertake to pursue its discussion, to a length in any degree proportioned to the importance communicated to it by the excellent character of some, whose theory here I told to be all wrong, would be to exclude for today every other topic.  If their endeavor seems to us, in some views, as mischievous as it is honest, this should not make us impatient of it, both because of the motive by which it is impelled, and because the whole history of man’s progress is that of a struggling of truth towards its rightful place of sway, though a throng of opposing, and mutually opposing errors.  The remarks which follow I must be content to address to such, as admit the lawfulness of defensive military action.
            Again; I have heard it said that the friends of temperance have exerted a strong influence, adverse to the integrity of the militia system.  It may be so; but having, till recently, had a somewhat intimate acquaintance with the progress of measures and of opinions touching this subject, I do not recollect to have seen an argument of the kind supposed.  It was again and again stated, it is true, that, at the numerous meetings which military parades occasioned, mournful exhibitions of intemperance were made.  But the same thing was affirmed of all occasions which brought crowds together, however needful, and (must I say it?) however sacred.  Intemperance was to a melancholy extent the habit of the country, and, being so, of course painful manifestations of it were made, as often as numbers of men were for any reason assembled.  Am I bidden to ask the militia officer, what he has witnessed disgraceful in this way, at the parade and the review?  I will put that question; for all facts are wanted, which will yield to avert an unspeakable calamity, and expose a crying sin.  But I must go further than to the militia man, and inquire of the judge, and the municipal officer, yes, and the minister, what they have witnessed of the same kind, among the multitudes collected by the court-week, and the town-meeting, and the ordination-day.  Will you shut up the courts then?  Will you interdict the municipal assemblies?  Will you cease to give a ministry to the churches?  No; wise men do not so leap to a conclusion.  The evil will disappear from crowds of all kinds, and those assembled by one occasion as well as by another, in proportion as the taste for it are subdued in the individuals who compose those crowds ; and in the meantime, let, of course, the advancing reform be aided, by all such safe and practical laws, as may prevent the excitement of crowds from being accompanied with peculiar temptations to excess.  Our legislation has, in fact, been more sensitive on this subject in relation to the militia, than to any other public institution; a law having been passed, five years ago, to prohibit those entertainments of militia electors, by their officers, which had up to that time been practiced.  In the present state of enlightened opinion on this matter, what the Commonwealth forbears to do, in the way of restraint and security, may be left with strong hope to the vigilance of the municipal corporations.  When the authorities of the city, with its more mixed population, have been able to expel spirituous liquor, even from the theatres, (at the cost, perhaps, of some odium to those who first moved in the measure, but of nothing worse,) I greatly err, if the ‘village Hampdens’ are found so far in the rear of the reform, as to endure its polluting presence on the militia muster grounds.  But the truth is, that the mountain of the Temperance reformation stands too strong, to admit of any hazard being incurred in its support, of injury to nay of the great institutions of the country.  It is doing grievous injustice to that enterprise, to suppose it is so weak as to need to ask a sacrifice in its behalf, at the hands of anything else that is good.
            But I am persuaded that disaffection to the militia system, considered as a wide-spread sentiment among the people, is to be traced to quite a different cause from such as have now been touched upon.  It is, if I mistake not, among the earliest developments of a principle, from which many of our most important institutions may ultimately prove to be equally in danger.  As such, I call on good citizens to watch it.  I refer to an imperfect perception on the part of those, for whose benefit our political system was framed, and at whose mercy it all lies, of the permanent worth of arrangements may cost,  I am persuaded that to this it is, beyond almost everything else, that the solicitude of the American patriot requires to be directed.  Our institutions, the fruit of great political experience and forecast, were most wisely and honestly devised, to secure the greatest good of the greatest number.  Make the people see, that they have that character, that tendency, that fitness,, and the people are sufficiently their own and one another’s friends, to bear cheerfully all burdens incident to their support.  But a political system, embracing the necessary safe-guards to law and liberty, (that pair, so strictly wedded, that one directly follows the other to the grave,) is necessarily somewhat complicated, its parts requiring careful reflection to discern all their use.  And the object of some of its most onerous provisions may be the prevention of evils, which, while, occurring, they would be so great, that they demand meanwhile the most scrupulous precautions, are yet not apparent except to the practiced or jealous eye, perhaps remote, incidental, seemingly or really improbable,–I should be ready to suppose, for the argument’s sake merely possible; and such provisions are of course always liable to become distasteful to all but the reflecting, as often as their burdens press.  When our system was proposed for adoption, men whose minds comprehended and could simplify the whole scheme, took pains to cause the use of every portion of it to be understood.  The American people understood it, and perceived its excellence the more clearly from recent severe experience of evils, whose recurrence they saw it was well devised to prevent; and understanding, they cordially adopted it.  But I greatly fear, that the want of perpetually repeated expositions of the principles of our government is already beginning to be felt; and as soon as from this cause, ignorance of them, or inattention to them, shall come extensively to prevail, everything we ought to hold dearest is thenceforward at the mercy of the mistake or the discontent of the hour.  A present inconvenience is felt, and the reason why it should be borne, as the reasonable and the necessary price of something precious, is overlooked, and honest opposition is tempted.  A judge decides a case, as we think, wrongly, and we indignant that we cannot command the advantage of an annual election of judges, to supersede him next year by a better man; forgetting what a blessed boon the constitution has secured to us, as it has secured to all, in giving to us in our time of innocent peril, an impartial judge; a judge so impartial, that he would not let a hair of our head be touched, though our head should be called for by a whole clamorous community; a judge, so impartial as he could not be, if opposition , at any time, to the will of an uninformed and excited majority, would be a forfeiture to him of the means of living.  We are impatient that a national measure, which e think good, should be checked by the action of the more permanent legislative branch, and we complain that any constitutional hindrance should exist to the instantaneous consummation of what we call the people’s will; forgetting what safety must unavoidably be often found  in the suspension of an excitement, which, indulged, it might be self-ruinous, and in the effectual expression of a judgment, which being more deliberate and responsible, may be expected to prove more wise.  So the interruption, and fatigue, and expensiveness of militia duty are felt as an annoyance.  Show us, it is said; an enemy to repulse, or a usurper to demolish, or an insurrection to quell, and then we see why we should submit to it.  But we dwell among our own people.  No foreign hostility molests or makes us afraid.  We have no ambitious ruler, or factious citizen, who seems to be entertaining a design against our liberties; and such is the prevailing sense of the majesty of law, that the civic force seems ample to secure to it respect and efficacy.  And, under such circumstances, the annoyance does appear to us to be without a sufficient corresponding benefit.—Accordingly, the young man, who is subject to do militia duty, is dissatisfied to make the sacrifice of his day’s work or his day’s leisure.  The old man, who is not subject to it, is dissatisfied to have his work left on his own hands; the farmer missing his sons and his laborers, the mechanic his journeymen, the merchant his clerks.  The rich complain of the cost of ammunition, carried to the town accounts.  They are told, to reconcile them, that the militia charge is an outlay for the security of the property of the rich; and so it is, for it is for the maintenance of liberty and law, and these again protect property, just as they protect life.  And then the poor, hearing the rich thus argued with, remonstrate on their part, ‘if this kind of work is to protect property of the rich, let the rich do it, or pay to have it done:’ forgetting that the argument would apply equally well to the interruption and trouble of their attendance at the town-meetings, to see the election of good magistrates.  The citizen, high or low, whosoever he be, goes as much to the town-meeting as he goes to the militia parade-ground, to secure the property of the rich; but it is by doing what will at the same time protect the day’s wages of the laborer, and what, while it protects property, will at the same time protect liberty and life,–the liberty and life of both, rich and poor together.—the argument forgets another thing.  May I venture to state it, so revolting is the consequence?  ‘Let the rich do the militia service,” it is said, “if they wish it done.’  Abandon then, the arms and the discipline to them, and create at once an aristocratic standing army.  Are we ready to take such counsel?  ‘Let the rich pay for the service, if the service is wanted.’  That is, let the rich have an army in their pay.  Does the spirit of Massachusetts brook that proposal?—So easily my hears, do stimulating addresses to the selfish passions
of the people, resolve themselves into applications to them to desert their own cause.
            After the war of independence, that militia system, the wreck of which still survives, (which, I will not say in the words of the context, has ‘yet a name to live, but is dead,’)  was incorporated by our ancestors into our institutions, because they hoped that they were establishing aa reign of liberty and law, and the experience of the world had shown them , that this must be maintained, if at all, by a sufficient military force, or, better, by the show of a sufficient military force, to discourage or defeat aggression; and they conceived that to none could the defense of liberty and law be so safely entrusted, as to those who were personally interested for their preservation ; and they probably would have said, that in their thought, the sacrifice of some days in every week, instead of some days in every year, (had that been needful to obtain sufficient security,) would have been a cheap price in such a purchase.  If we do not like the arrangement, what will we have instead?  Will we have a large standing army?  My hearers, you would not listen to me, if I should undertake to argue that question.  There is no institution, of which you are so irreconcilably suspicious.  You know, that where that exists, despotism exists; the despotism of the movers of the colossal and unthinking machine, whether one, or few, or many.  You cannot endure the thought of having those, in any strength, within your borders, whose sympathies together are the sympathies of a camp, whose will is the unexamined will of their commander, whose trade id force, who are essentially trained to despotic principles by the habit on their own part of implicit obedience to authority, and whose elaborate discipline enables them, under some circumstances, to cope with a large preponderance of numbers, and put on them the fetters which they wear themselves.
            Will we then look to a voluntarily organized force to give such protection to the country, and such support to the laws, as emergencies may require?  If it were not that I conceive, that, under existing circumstances, such a force is little likely to be collected to any large amount, I should tremble to think of what our recent laws have done to bring about such an arrangement.  Already the Commonwealth’s militia at large is essentially disbanded.  What remains are the volunteer companies.  “A select militia,’ said John Adams ‘will soon become a standing army.’  Here is already that select militia.  It is further composed, (that is, in the contemplation of the law, I cannot say whether as yet in practice,) of mercenary troops.  Their pay has been raised within the year, and may be raised again and again, till it shall be an effectual lure to recruits.  Moreover, there is this great peculiarity in this paid force that it is offered by itself, with the exception only of the highest posts, which are filled by the government.  The law clearly points to a monopoly of military practice and skill, in a self –constituted and self-officered body.  I do not believe, I repeat, that the system is permanent; else I should say, that it could not be wisely viewed without extreme alarm.  I content myself with asking, whether its tendencies are not most distinctly anti-republican.  Could the people of this Commonwealth long see, without irrepressible uneasiness, a body of troops among them, collected by mutual pledges, and permitted and encouraged to bring themselves to the highest state of discipline and military sufficiency, while at the same time the body of the people were abandoning even the inferior discipline, in which a partial security would , in case of need, be found, and under the name of leaving to others the trouble, were in act doing a different thing, that is, leaving to others the power?  If the scheme should have time allowed to develop its tendencies, I make no question that reason would be found for reviving, (and on more serious grounds,) the apprehension of our primitive magistrates, when they scrupled about the incorporation of this company, recollecting the instances of the Praetorian band in Rome, and the Templars in feudal Europe.
            If we take none of these risks, what will we do?  Will we go without any array of physical force, for our institutions to rest upon in the last resort?  We may say this, and we may hope that we shall be able to do it harmlessly, till a painful and costly experience comes to undeceive us.  By the ordination of Providence, vigilance is the price to be paid for safely, which is a pearl of great price.  Precaution and peril take each other’s places, just as surely as the sun’s departure is followed by night.  We say, we see no danger.  It is because we have seen precautions, by which the element s of danger were over-awed, and checked from springing into actual being.  The energetic militia movement in Shay’s rebellion, for instance, was a solemn lesson read by the Constitution and the law, not to be forgotten while that generation lasted.  Let the precautions disappear, and as certainly as human nature is not as yet completely reformed, the danger, in some or in all of its forms, will reappear.  And when this shall befall, we shall have at last to take the steps which we shall then no longer be able to doubt that it demands, and to take them then not only under the conviction, that they would have been taken more effectually, if taken more seasonable resort to them would probably have saved us all the various injury, resulting from danger which has at length arisen.  And it is under the most profound and anxious conviction of this, that I, for one, desire to see the strength of Massachusetts all ready to provide, in any emergency, for the safety of Massachusetts, under the direction of her wisdom, as exerted and expressed through the constitutional organs.  I would have it already to apply to a foreign assailant, at every point of her border, ‘hitherto mayest thou come, but no further,’ no, no further than to that sacred line.  I would have it prepared, in any time of actual or threatened commotion which may come, to take that attitude of dignity, forbearance, and gravity, but decision, which only a well-grounded self-reliance for the possession of means to meet consequences, will sustain; and to speak one of those loud voices of command, for the integrity of this union, which may be needed, the Omniscient only knows how soon.  I would have the militia of the country in a condition to make the usurpation of arbitrary power so impossible, that the very thought may not reach, I will not say its birth, but so much as its rude conception, in any ambitious bosom.  I would not care so much to urge, that that physical force, whose preventive or remedial uses are so indispensable to the existence of a state, should be embodied in a militia, rather than in a mercenary army, because it is a much less expensive security against danger of foreign invasion; though certain it is, that, while its pecuniary burden is not very seriously felt, military establishments have always been a ,most oppressive tax upon military governments, and a most multitudinous and exhausting host that must be, which would cover our extended frontier.  I would not even chiefly insist, that, while a militia costs less than a very insignificant standing force, it is actually more effective, for purposes of defense of a country of geographical position like ours, than the largest standing army which the treasury of the most thriving country could support; more effective, unquestionably, their comparative numbers considered, whatever weight may be thought, by one or another, to belong to the facts, that the militia-man has that intimate acquaintance with the natural features of the region he is defending, which is often worth books full of science, and that it is his own hearth and altar that the militia man defends;- how effective, let Concord and Bunker Hill bear witness, though even these are not fair examples, for the aggressor of that day, in consequence in past relations  of the country, had first obtained peaceable foothold on the shore.  In an argument so practical, I would not even put prominently forward the sensible principles of the case, and press the truth, (or what I hold for it,) that a militia force is the reasonable, as well as the cheap defense of nations; that the ancient, superseded theory on the subject, was the true one; that, with some necessary exceptions, military service is of that nature,, that it ought to be done by men for themselves; that it ought not to be delegated; and especially, that it is a proper tribute to freedom, to defend her by a freeman’s , and not a mercenary’s arm.  Upon the thought, that a militia organization is the strong arm of only defensive war, I should be tempted, for reasons of philanthropy, to dwell;– so rooted and quick is my conviction, that an offensive war is a measure only approached in its wickedness by its folly; that there is no more cruel plague of men, and no more outrageous and high-handed offense against their Maker; and that, in a standing army, there are strong and ever-active tendencies to offensive war, while a militia, at least that of a prosperous country, is hardly capable of being used for purposes of offense;–hardly capable, except in one of those rare contingencies, in which there arises reason for it to do violence to all its habits, to strike a sudden blow abroad, so as to anticipate and foreclose a severer struggle at home.  But I would, at all events, implore the patriot to reflect, that a sufficient physical force is indispensable to sustain, in the Last resort, the empire of liberty and law, while the knowledge of its having been provided will afford the best attainable security against their ever being brought to an arbitration of blood; and that, on the other hand, the only force not dangerous to liberty and law, is the force of the legally-armed free-citizen.  I would beseech him to remember, that he should be attentive to sustain a sufficient militia system, because a militia force is the only large force that a free people can trust for defense against foreign assault, and because it is a force, which, giving it such organization as to do the behests of law, a free people must trust, if they mean to be secure against usurpation and against anarchy.  And if this be so, the people, who, because of any attending unavoidable inconvenience, will be discouraged from keeping it up, are as unworthy of the liberties they enjoy, as they are actually in danger of losing them.
            Of the liberties they enjoy, I say.  And that is the word, rather than the liberties they possess.  For possession implies something of a power to keep, and that of which I am speaking might, under the circumstances supposed, prove to be no more than a possession which was dreamed of.  Do you tell me again, that no danger is visible?  You only say what alarms me most.  I would rather, for security’s sake, that you would use almost any other language.  I hold, that there always is public danger, as often as the persuasion exists that there is none. And if there is no present danger, has it never come upon us, and come suddenly?  And have there been no other times, when it would have possessed us, but that we knew we had that, wherewith we should oppress it?  Can none of us remember the time, when, rebellion being formally menaced by the temporary authorities of a sister state, once of different fame, we thought that patriotism might have to stand to its arms, at least till the vain but self-exciting insult to the majesty of union should be abashed?—How long is it, since some people thought, that there were only two differences between the head of this nation on the one hand, and Cromwell and Napoleon, at a certain crisis of their rise, on the other;–the one difference being, that the latter had already a subservient army, while the former could raise one with a word;–the other difference, that in the way of the former there would still stand one million three hundred thousand (enrolled at least, and to a great extent, armed and disciplined) militia-men, the great majority of whom , whatever might be their personal party-predilections, had no supreme wish but their country’s good?  I do not say, that the persons, who entertained that thought were right.  I do not stand here, to take any ground on questions of party divisions.  I allow, for the purposes of this argument, that the head of this nation is as pure a lover of his country, as his country’s annals name.  Still I say, God forbid that the time should come, for the liberties of this nation to depend on the good intentions of any man.  Were he a patriot as irreproachable, as incapable of being suspected, as George Washington, (–and now I have gone to the furthest limit of language,–) still I cannot consent to hold my freedom by no better tenure, than that of his honest views.  Freedom?  No; that is not then the word; it is sufferance.  Only satisfy me, that there was not physical organized power to have scattered his retainers to the four winds, and given his dishonored limbs to a gibbet, the hour that he should have been solemnly convicted of arming them against his country’s liberties, and I ask no more, to own myself his slave.  Let him make me feel the iron or the thong, a little earlier or a little later; and whether earlier or later, it matters not mush; but the time is then for his own choosing.  No danger, to make it necessary to keep up the force, which danger, if it came, might make desirable!  Why, how long is it since the twelfth and thirteenth nights of August 1834?  Boston, on those nights, was a well-appointed garrison, commanded by those safe and trusty officers, the sheriff and the mayor; and because the Lord kept the city with his militia-men, the watchmen did not wake in vain.  Did anybody foresee, on the eleventh day of August, that, in twenty-four hours, we should be in such an uproar?  As much,–as much, and no more,–as we expect that the same scene will be re-enacted on the second day of June, 1835.  Are the same elements of disturbance all expelled.—the same elements, and the like, and different, so that we may be sure that a similar scene will never be repeated?  Or to quell a domestic riot or insurrection, when it occurs, or in view of the possibility of their recurrence, will Massachusetts be content in relying on doing what Virginia has lately done, that is, inviting in Federal troops to quell them?  Will she consent to do this, I ask, till she is unable to do better?  If she will, I have misconstrued her history.  I have not learned the alphabet of her character.
            But, my hearers, I forebear from this vast theme, for I ought to find place, before I close, to say a few words regarding another aspect of the subject;–a few words, and modestly, for the subject, in that aspect, is under the cognizance of much wiser heads than mine.  If a well-regulated be, what the constitution declares it, ‘necessary to the security of a free state,’ a freeman’s and a patriot’s wish will be to know, and knowing, to do, as far as in him lies, what, under existing circumstances, is requisite, for its stability, credit, and prosperity.  Without presuming to prejudge a case, submitted to such competent discretion, I would however venture to anticipate, that three or four points will be objects of especial notice.
            I presume, that, while the leading object will be, on the one hand, to remove unnecessary burdens, and, on the other, to secure a sufficient enrolment, equipment, organization, and discipline, care will be taken to restore to officers an actual command; since, without good officers, there cannot be good soldiers, nor means of using them, if they could exist; and officers cannot be expected to find attraction in posts which bestow only a title and some obnoxious trouble, without authority to advance the object professed to have been undertaken; so that, unless this feature of the system be reformed, the only apparent remaining resource must be, to compel officers to serve, under a penalty, as jurymen are now compelled; a scheme certainly liable to great objections.
            I suppose, that another step may be, greatly to reduce the number of legal grounds of exemption from military service, a number now so large as to occasion much dissatisfaction and discouragement.  I am almost ready to say, (at least, as to the general theory of the case, whatever modification minor considerations might require,) that there should be no exemptions, till the prescribed term of service has been finished, except for those, who, at the hour when they would be rendering it, are actually employed in some other duty, in which the individual, then exempted, may better serve the state.  Military service is, on all just grounds of estimating it, personal service.  It is not what one can fitly or reasonably do by proxy.  It is a stern duty, which one must be content to perform for himself.  I could as honorably, (higher reasons for not interfering,) hire another to plunge into the water, in my place, to rescue my child, as to go to the field, while I remain behind, to defend my country for me.  I cannot serve in two ways at once; and therefore, when I am sitting on the bench of justice, or in the hall of legislation, I must needs be excused from the camp.  But the permanent exemption of any classes of men, as far as it proceeded from, or went to instill the idea that their occupations were too dignified, or too sacred, to be consistent with military service,–that a patriot soldier’s duty was not the duty of a grave or a holy man,–would not only be utterly indefensible as to its grounds, but also it would be either greatly dispiriting, or else greatly demoralizing, to those who were left to fill the ranks.
            I suppose that the great outrage of electing notoriously unworthy persons to commands will not be dealt with by the law, any further than to provide some satisfactory way of ascertaining the character of such elections, so as to make them invalid.  It is impossible that the practice, (but I hope that a practice it has nowhere yet become,) can live under the indignant rebuke of an honest public sentiment.  The penalty of disfranchisement of such faithless electors would be in theory the resource.  But disfranchisement for wanton abuse of the prerogative of suffrage is a penalty not known to our laws, and with reason, since the offense would be so difficult to prove, and the application of the remedy would open a way for the inroad of corruption of another kind.  Else disfranchisement would be the natural and just resource; for the corrupt voter, in a militia election, has pronounced himself unfit to be trusted with a citizen’s power.  He is one, against whose vote the government in all its departments, the community in all its interests, his neighbors in all their relations, is concerned to have full protection.  Mark the company which has done this thing.  I know them not; but I know, that, (except that it were done under the temporary excitement of some passion or folly, by which all of us are liable to be misled,) the roll of that company, on whatever plain of the pilgrims’ clearing its musters, is a rag of shame. It holds the names of those, who are not suitable associates for honest men; for, if the throwing of a vote to any other end, than the election of the best man, is a citizen’s perfidy, what name is there for a vote thrown with the intent to elect the worst?  Mark the individual who does it, if he is so reckless as to commit himself to your knowledge; mark him for one who is ready to sell his vote, who is in a way to be ready to sell his country and himself, for the gold, shall I say?  No, for the copper, of France, or England, or Portugal, or Haiti.—and after law shall have finished its discreet and righteous work, still there will remain much to be done, in the way of encouragement, as well as of correction, which law can of its nature only partially accomplish, and which public opinion, in the militia man, and in every citizen, must be enlightened and excited to undertake, to the end that officers and soldiers, seeing more clearly the honorableness and dignity of the service, may be more prompt to serve, and more interested to excel.  The majestic principles, on which the institution rests, must be made better understood, and the springs of the patriotic spirit, which is its life, be touched by master hands.  A militia parade must not be suffered to pass in any mind, for a mere holiday exhibition; it must be seen for what it is, a great and happy people’s preparation for the maintenance of what makes it great and happy.  Never should the idea have been allowed, for want of care, to establish itself, that the militia meetings were mere entertainments.  No wonder, that those who had gone so far, as thus to regard them, went so much further, soon, as to regard them as idle entertainments.  Yet in point of fact, I suppose that that may have been the case of others, which has been mine; and I know, that, with advantages of education as good as the average, I had reached the age when the militia-man is discharged from his principal service, without having any fit sense or perception of the worth or the grounds of the institution.  Our fathers understood this thing better.  There was a high philosophy in their right feelings and strong sense.  They did not call on men to do what they forbore to show them the reasons, and excite in them the feeling, for doing.  Among other arrangements to the end, they sanctified these occasions of concourse with ‘the word of God and prayer;’ a practice, of which this company’s annual solemnities present an interesting relic.  If some things, which were done in our father’s days by prayers and sermons, are to be done in ours by other forms of speech, then let us have the benefit of the altered fashion.  Let some additional attraction be given to the days of militia parades, and some additional advantage be derived from them, by devoting part of the day to some such useful expositions of the worth of the institution, as there is not a village of our Commonwealth not affording more than one person competent to present.  They need not be what some of us lately heard over the bones of the militia proto-martyrs of Lexington, to send every hearer away with a glowing sense of the duty of defending such a country , and the privilege of having such a country to defend.—But these hints must have an end.  Let me give them one by saying, that, if the militia service is not rendered with satisfaction and alacrity, having such purposes and such associations to recommend it, there are others who must share the blame with those who feel the reluctance and the discontent.
            Gentlemen of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, I shall address you very briefly in conclusion, for the proper time has not only come, but gone, for me to relieve your patience, and that of your guests.  Your institution appears to have been designed, by noble hearts, for noble ends.  It might be called in the use of hardly too strong a figure, the corner stone of the militia organization of Massachusetts, as it has also been a distinguished ornament of that body in later times.  With such a history to animate you, with such a reputation to support, you are reasonably looked to, to be, in time to come, useful and true friends to all good institutions of the good Commonwealth; and to be willing, as those who went before you were, to go to the death in defense of her liberty and laws.  Vigilance, gentlemen, vigilance erect and in panoply, is what providence has made the price of a people’s safety.  See you, with other good citizens, that it does not sleep, and see further that it watches in armor.  Hitherto the objects, at which your venerable founders aimed, have been essentially secured.  You approach the close of the second century of your company’s age, under auspices of the country, such as to rejoice a patriot’s heart, yet not altogether unmingled with causes of solitude.  The one should make him thankful to God, and to good, and wise, and valiant men, God’s instruments; the other should not make him fearful, but they should make him watchful.  I say more, repeating what I have said.  If present causes for watchfulness did not exist, his want of watchfulness would be still most imprudent, for that very want would create them.  Do your part, gentlemen, and let the rest of us in our lot, do ours, and let the same spirit live in those who are to take our places, as it did live in those places we have taken, and, by that blessing of Almighty God, which waits on upright human endeavor, the coming ages, as one after another they roll in their flood of the mysterious experience of human fortunes, will still find our beloved Commonwealth the happy seat of liberty and law; and through them, and through causes which they protect and foster, the seat of universal competence, a ripe learning, a patriotic brotherly love, and, a pure, fervent, and operative piety.  And so it will be a marked spectacle, for all eyes of the world, as a field which the Lord hath blessed.

 

 

OFFICERS
OF THE
ANCIENT AND HONORABLE ARTILLERY COMPANY
FOR THE YEAR 1834
Lt. Col. Grenville T. Winthrop, Capt.
Col. Thomas Livermore, 1st Lieut.
Lt. Col. Abijah Ellis, 2nd Lieut.
Lt. Col. Francis R. Bigelow, Adjutant.

 

 

 

FOR THE YEAR 1835

Brig. Gen. Thomas Davis, Capt.
Col. Josiah L.C. Amee, 1st Lieut.
Capt. Samuel Knower, 2nd Lieut.
Capt. Charles A. Macomber. Adjutant

Sermon – Artillery – 1828, Massachusetts

John Pierpont (1785-1866) Biography:

Born in Connecticut to a well-known family, he graduated from Yale in 1804. He worked as an educator for several years, then began studying law. In 1812, he passed the bar and went to work as a lawyer in Newbury, Massachusetts. But being dissatisfied as an attorney he became a merchant in Boston, then Baltimore, and next entered the study of theology. He graduated from Cambridge Divinity School and was ordained in 1819. He pastored a Boston church until 1845, then a church in Troy, New York, until 1849, and then another church in Massachusetts, where he pastored until 1856. While a pastor, Pierpont penned two of the more popular classroom school readers of that day. He was an abolitionist, a member of the temperance movement, a Liberty Party candidate for governor in the 1840s, and then a Free-Soil Party candidate for governor in 1850. He served as a Massachusetts field chaplain during the Civil War, but the physical demand was too great for his aging body, so he took an appointment in the Treasury Department in Washington, where he worked until his death in 1866. He was an accomplished poet and penned many published poems as well as sermons.


“Who Goeth A Warfare At His Own Charges?”


A DISCOURSE
Delivered Before the
ANCIENT AND HONORABLE
ARTILLERY COMPANY
OF MASSACHUCHETTS,
On the Celebration of Their 190th ANNIVERSARY,
BOSTON, JUNE 2, 1828

 

By JOHN PIERPONT.
Published at the Request of the Company.
BOSTON

 

Bowles and Dearborn, 72 Washington Street.

1828
Boston.
Press of Isaac R. Butts & Co.


DISCOURSE


1 Corinthians, 9:17
Who goeth a warfare, at any time, at his own charges?

            This question is proposed by the apostle Paul by way of illustration or argument.  The point that he would prove is, that, as an apostle of Christ, giving up his time and powers for the benefit of those to whom he had been sent, and submitting to the labors and privations of the service in which he was engaged, he had a right to such compensation, from those for whom he labored, as would support him under his labors; or, as he himself states his point, he would prove that they who preached the gospel had a right to a living out of the gospel.  This proposition he proves and illustrates by a variety of comparisons.  The law of Moses permitted the priests, who were to superintend the offering of sacrifices in the temple, to feed upon the sacrifices they offered; and the ox, employed in treading or threshing corn, to eat of the grain that he threshed.  And who, asks the apostle, feeds a flock, and does not eat of the fruit of the vineyard?  Or who goeth a warfare at any time, at his own charges?  Whoever thinks of serving as a soldier, of doing military duty, at his own expense; or, as the analogy of his argument requires, without being paid for his services by those for whose benefit they are rendered?
            This last illustration of the apostle—this appeal of his to the common usage of nations, and to the common sense of mankind, as to what would be equitable,– might have been very pertinent in his day, to the point before him.  Its force would have been felt, and his question must have been unanswerable.  But in our days, should a soldier of the Cross, in an argument to prove that, as a minister of religion, he had a right to a support from those for whose benefit he labors, ask, “Who goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges?”—whoever does military duty at his own expense?—not one of his hearers but would answer, every militia-man in the country.
           
My friends and fellow citizens, I do not forget where I stand.  I do not forget in whose presence, nor yet at whose bidding I speak.  I stand in a Christian church—in one of the oldest of the churches of our fathers.  I speak in the presence of the chief rulers and counsellors of the commonwealth, and at the bidding of an ancient and an honorable military company; a company the most ancient on the continent, and one in which some of the most honorable men of our country have been enrolled.  I cast myself upon the honorable feelings which become men , whether they become soldiers or magistrates, with the full conviction that what I shall now say will not be misconstrued, as it certainly would be, were it construed into anything disrespectful to the memory or wisdom of our fathers, or to any individual of all those before whom I stand.  Personal worth, as well as the feelings and opinions of all who are worthy, I cannot but hold in reverence.  But while I do not forget where I am, I would not forget “whose I am, and whom I am bound to serve.”  Knowing that, officially at least, I am a servant of the Lord, and being taught that “where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty,” I know that, if that liberty is anywhere, it ought to be here, in his church; and believing that it is here, I claim it as my own, and as my own I will use it.  I will use it; and will ask no protection of my gown from any responsibility for the manner in which I use it, if I speak of plain things in a plain way.  Every citizen, so long as he is respectful to the legislator, has a right to examine his laws.  If he sees that they are inequitable, if he feels that they are “needlessly oppressive to the community, and benefiting nobody on earth,” he has a right to say so.  Nay, it is his duty to say so.  It is his duty to lift up his voice against them; and, so far as he can, to make the pulpit and the press lift up their voices against them.  It is his duty to examine them; if he deems them useless, to show their inutility; if absurd, to expose their absurdity.  He will thus draw the public mind to them. They will become more and more, the subjects of free discussion.  If there is good reason for them, good reasons will be given for them, and the wisdom of the laws will be made more widely manifest. If there are no such reasons, the public mind will , in time, become satisfied that there are none; and the public arm will, soon after that, disencumber itself of everything that burdens without strengthening it—will free itself of every thong, but that which carries as a sling, and that which binds on its shield.
            Far be it from me, to say that there is no advantage gained, no blessing secured, by the militia system of our country, even as it is at present arranged and administered.  The question that I would raise is this; Are the benefits that we secure by it, in any degree proportionate to the expense at which they are secured?  Far be it from me to speak disparagingly of the wisdom of our fathers generally, or particularly of that wisdom which, in their day, they displayed, in the laws by which their military force was organized and governed—the laws by which they sought protection from danger which they felt.  The question I would propose is, whether it is wise in us, under our circumstances, to do the same things, that it was wise in them to do under theirs.  Far be it from me to question the bravery of American troops, even of militia-men.  That has been doubted too often, and proved too often on those who have doubted it, for me to bring any skepticism in relation to it within the scope of the present discourse.  I would rather ask, is there anything, in the present state of the country and the times, which requires our militia-men, at so great an expense to themselves, to show how valiant they would be if their valor were called for?  Set an enemy of blood and bone upon our shore, and I think it would be very wise in us to let our militia-men charge bayonet upon him, and push him back into the water; and I verily believe, that the militia-men of Massachusetts  would not be long in showing that they thought it very wise in them to do it.  But is it as wise to keep them standing on the shore, with their bayonets bright and bristling, against such an enemy comes? Or marching and countermarching …

                        “——–In battailous aspect
                        Bristled with upright beams innumerable
                        Of rigid spears and helmets thronged,”

to guard against a foe that has already fallen—to overawe “The British ghosts that in battle were slain,” when, in other times, they came upon the shore?
            True wisdom, I suppose, consists in adapting our conduct, and our laws, the rules of our conduct, whether as individuals or states, to the circumstances in which we are placed.
            It is wise to foresee evil, and to guard against it.  Prudence is a part of wisdom; prudence, which foresees danger.  Courage is a part of wisdom; courage, which confronts the danger that it sees.  But it is no more a part of wisdom to foresee danger and to confront it promptly, than it is to calculate the contingencies well, on which danger depend—to measure well the danger that may be apprehended, and to preserve a due relation between the probability of an uncertain evil, or the magnitude of a certain one, and the expense at which we would protect ourselves from an evil, certain or uncertain. 
            Does this position require illustration?  It was wise, then, in Cairo or Constantinople to guard against the plague, at the expense of personal comfort and convenience.  Would it be wise to demand the same sacrifices to guard against the same evil in St Petersburgh or Quebec?  It is wise in the Hollanders, who have dyked out the German ocean from their plains, to look well to their dykes; to tax themselves freely for the support of their waterstaat; to keep a patrol moving, day and night, along those barriers, in raising and supporting which the Dutchman has purchased the right to take upon his lips, and that without impiety, the language of the Omnipotent, “Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther, and here shall thy proud waves by stayed.” –But would the police which is wise on the east side of the German ocean, be as wise on the west?—and, if the guidman who tenants a ninth story on the rock of Edinburgh, should pay as readily and as roundly to insure himself against “the danger of the seas,” as does the respectable burgher of Amsterdam, should we think him eminently wise?  In feudal times it was very wise in the English baron to make his house a castle.  But if a New England farmer were, now, in order to protect himself against his neighbors, to make his house a castle, with its round-towers, and its donjon-keep, with its moat, and draw-bridge and port-cullis;–if he were to constitute his seneschal and wardours; and keep his…

                                    “Nine and twenty yeomen tall,
                                    Waiting duteous in his hall,
                                    Ten of whom, all sheathed in steel,
                                    With belted sword, and spur on heel,
                                    Quitted not their harness bright,
                                    Neither by day nor yet by night,
                                But lay down to rest with their corslet laced,
                                    Pillowed on buckler cold and hard,
                                 And carved at the meal with gloves of steel,
                                    And drank the red wine through the helmet barred”—

His neighbors, I imagine, would begin to suspect that all was not right at “the castle,” and would take measures to place the knight upon a peace establishment in the asylum at Charlestown.
            Perhaps I need not further illustrate my meaning when I say that true wisdom, whether we act as individuals or as states, consists in adapting our conduct, to the circumstances under which we are placed.
            Now, with due deference to the opinions of the patriots of former days, by whom the militia laws were made, and with due deference to the opinions of the patriots of our own days, by whom those laws are not yet unmade, it does appear to me that, in the present constitution and operation of those laws, when considered in reference to the present circumstances of this Commonwealth and of our common country, there is not that wisdom discovered, which is shown in the general provisions and requirements of our civil polity.
            But, as much as it is becoming the fashion of the day—and an excellent fashion it is—in adopting or rejecting opinions, whether in religion or politics, to ask. What are the reasons that support an opinion?  Rather than who are the men that hold it?—I crave the ear of my audience, while I state a few of the reasons on which rests the opinion I have ventured to advance in respect to the militia laws of our country.
            First, then, the militia system does not seem to me to discover the true wisdom of which I have spoken, because, under this system, we seek protection at an expense more than commensurate to our danger.
            To satisfy ourselves whether this is so, we must compare the expense with the danger:–a comparison, it is admitted, which cannot be made with very great accuracy, though, I trust it may be well with all the accuracy that is necessary.  What, then, is the annual expense of the militia of Massachusetts, to the state of Massachusetts?
            The commonwealth has more than fifty thousand men, on her militia rolls.  Grant that these are called out for review, drill, elections, and parade, no more than three days a year; and we have 150,000 days devoted to military duty by those who do that duty.  Allow then only one spectator for one soldier—and it must be a very stupid affair if it there are not as many to see the show, as there are to make it,–and there are 150,000 days more.  Allow moreover only two thirds as much time for each individual to prepare for the field—for fatigue or frolic—and to recover from its duties, or its debauch, as there is spent upon the field,–and we have 200,000 days more.  Now, allowing that there is truth in the remark of a native citizen of Boston, who passes for a very sensible man, viz. that “Time is money,” and allowing one day to be worth only one dollar, the militia of Massachusetts costs the state of Massachusetts, half a million dollars a year.  I make no accounts here, of the money spent upon arms, ammunition, uniforms—the ammunition that is burned up—the muskets and swords, and the costly coats of many colors are laid up—treasures that are kept, for the moth and rust to corrupt, three hundred and sixty days, that they may glisten and look gay for five:–I make no account of the monies, or the morals, that are thrown away in the low revelry of tents and taverns, though of these things there is a fearful account made by “ the Judge of all the earth:”—I estimate even the time of the militia-men at less than one third of the value which, in the form of fines for non-attendance, the law itself gives it, and the commonwealth of Massachusetts pays half a million of dollars a year for the protection which it seeks from its militia system.
            Now, what is the danger against which protection is purchased at this rate?  There are but two forms of danger against which a military force can protect the people of this commonwealth:–danger from insurrection, and danger from invasion.  What is the danger to the citizens from insurrection?  You have already answered this question, my hearers, in the view you entertained of the sanity that good farmer whom we just now supposed to have made his house a castle, fortified and guarded according to the usage of feudal times.  And if there were danger from insurrection, the insurgents will have gained, from militia drilling, the same advantage in the use of arms against the loyalists, as the loyalists would have gained against them;–and it is worth our while to inquire what benefit, in a time of civil war, would result to the whole body politic, by having previously strengthened each of the hands of which both are using all the strength they have, in tearing the body to pieces.  From the danger of insurrection, then, how are protected by your militia, granting that there were there danger from that quarter? 
            And what is our danger from invasion that we sacrifice so much of our substance to be protected from it?—what is the danger of Massachusetts?  What if this Samson of the New England family rest,–ay, sleep even,–on the lap of Peace?  Who are the Philistines that are going to be upon him before he can wake up and shake his locks at them?  Are the Winnebagoes, and the Pawnees, and the Flat-heads, coming down to argue with us the title to the hunting grounds of the Pequods and the Narragansetts?  And are we willing to compromise the suit and buy our peace at half a million dollars a year?  Or do we make a good bargain when we pay that price, or any price, to secure our shores against invasion?
            You do not need my friends, that I should answer these questions.  I fear, rather, that you will say I am trifling with you when I ask them; and that they are below the dignity of my subject.  But, before you say this, I beg you to consider that my present subject is the dangers that impend our civil state, dangers from which we seek protection under our militia system.  If these dangers are trifles in themselves, we do not descend below the dignity of truth, in treating them as such.  Truth does not always look black, and talk pontifically in her teachings.  There is much truth, and as salutary truth, in the sunshine that plays upon the flower that it is showing you, or in the breeze that handles it lightly, while it gives you its odor, as there is in the voice or the visage of the thunder cloud that shows it.  You pay seriously for that security from invasion, for which you look to the present operations of the militia system.  If your danger from these quarters is such a trifle that it cannot be seriously named, my first objection to that system is a sound one, for you to look to it to protect you, at an expense that is beyond measure more than commensurate with your danger; and we have endeavored to show that to do this is not wise, for that “it is out of all proportion and relation of means to ends.”
            My second objection to the present system is, that, granting a real danger, it affords a very inadequate security; and all the security that it does afford might be derived from it, were it so modified that it should be sustained at incomparably less expense. 
            That militia, trained or untrained, are competent to contend with regular and disciplined troops, during a whole campaign, no one pretends; or, if anyone believes that they are, let him inquire of any military man, and he will change his opinion.  They are efficient only in a sudden emergency, or when acting in small parties, falling upon an enemy by surprise, or hanging upon his rear as sharp shooters, and taking off his numbers in detail.  And this, I maintain, is a species of service for which the inhabitants of New England,–unless their right hand has strangely forgotten its cunning since the retreat of their enemy from Concord, and their own defeat at Bunker Hill—are as competent without the discipline of training days, and without red coats and plumes, as with them.  I do but use the words of another, a distinguished advocate for the militia, a full believer in it, as well as an ornament of it, when I say, “The success which attended the mode of warfare by undisciplined troops at Lexington, was so marked that it is wonderful that it should since have been so much disregarded.  The very men who , when formed in a body, scattered like sheep, upon the approach of the British columns, rendered signal services the same day, on the enemy’s retreat, when they were left to their intelligence.”[i]
            Yes, to prove that militia cannot long be depended on, for defense against regular and veteran troops, the seat of our National government is a melancholy witness.  And if, in proof of their efficiency in a sudden exigency, or in one brief struggle, I am pointed to Baltimore, or to New Orleans, or to Plattsburgh, or to Bunker Hill, or to the road “back again” from concord to Phipps’s farm, I answer—that just so efficient they would have been, indeed may we not say, thus dreadfully efficient they were, without the years of previous dressing, and drilling, and drumming—without the fifes and finery—without the pomp, and the pompons, and the parades which now cost the Commonwealth more than all she pays for the support of her municipal government, in its legislative, its judicial, and its executive departments:–ay, more than all that twice told.
            I object, then, to the military system, in its present form and mode of operations, because in times of danger it affords inadequate security; as well as because in times when there is no danger it costs a very adequate price.
            There is still another ground of skepticism as to the wisdom of the militia system, I its present form and operations.  It is not equitable; and I need not labor to prove, that where there is no equity there is no wisdom.  It is not equitable; for, while it purports to protect the whole, it throws the burden of all the protection that it does give upon a part of the community;–upon a small part;–upon a part not the most able to bear it, even, if it were righteous that they should bear it.
            A late venerable chief magistrate of Massachusetts, when, in one of his general orders, he is magnifying the importance of the militia to the state, says—“the militia system was established for the protection of the property of the wealthy.”  Then I say, let the wealthy pay for that protection.  Do they pay for it?  Look at the operation of the law.  A wealthy justice of the peace, in the country, hires half a dozen young men to work upon his farm for six months, from the first of May to the last of October; the whole seasons for military operations.  They are warned to do military duty, “for the protection of the property of the wealthy.”  If they go, their wages, for the time employed in going, staying and returning, he diligently deducts in the day when he “reckoned with them.”   If they do not go, he is the magistrate before whom you, as clerk of the company, bring your suits against them for their fines.  You come into his presence with the delinquents.

                                    “He wonders to what end you have assembled
                                    Such troops of citizens to come to him,
                                    His grace not being warned thereof before”–

but he pronounces upon them the sentence of the law, pays his own fine out of his own fees, deducts the “court day” from their calendar, and, if they cannot pay the amount of judgment, for fines, and fees, and costs of suit, the poor debtor’s prison will secure them, for six days, at least, from any further of their country’s claims upon their services in “protecting the property of the wealthy.”
            “We should like to understand, if we may,” says a writer in one of the English Reviews, while commenting upon the orations of our Everett, and our Sprague, and our Webster—“We should like to understand, if we may, upon what principle the poor and the rich are taxed as they are, in the United States of North America, under the militia law.  By the poor we mean those that are not rich, those who are neither wealthy nor destitute.  Of both these are demanded about twelve days of their time to defend the property of the rich man.  The rich, of course, do not appear in the field: the poor do.  The latter cannot afford to keep away:–the former can.  The poor lose, the rich gain, therefore, by submitting to the penalty.  It is, moreover, notoriously true that, while the rich men never turn out, and the poor always do, the rich seldom or never pay the fine when they should pay it, and the poor seldom or never escape.  The rich are let off; here, because they belong to this or that profession, either in church or state, or because they are doctors, or because they are teachers; there, because they are supported by the public, or have carried a commission two or three years in the militia: here, because they have contributed to the purchase of a fire engine; there, because they have encouraged a lottery: as if such people, were to have that property, whether of this or that profession,–teachers or not,–preachers or not,–officers or not,–having property, were to have that property defended by those who have no property—insured, we may say, at the charge of the latter.
            “But why so unequal a tax, under a show of equality?  If watchmen were needed for the guardianship of a city, where would be the wisdom, where the justice, of calling out every free male citizen of a particular age, for so many nights in the year—every one, rich or poor—under a penalty which would be very sure to keep the latter abroad in all weathers, while the former would be exempted, or excused, or suffered, in some way or other, to escape from the duty of watching their own houses?  What if the poor man, who does go forth, were paid by the rich man who does not, for the guardianship of the public?—or at least for watching over the property of the rich man?”[ii]  “Militias are but watchmen.  The subject of their charge may be either a city or a state.  Now the tax which is paid in the United States of North America for that guardianship is a poll tax.  It should be a property tax.  What if the militia were paid so much for every day’s labor?”
            Thus asks the Reviewer: and I repeat the question—“What if the militia were paid for every day’s labor?”—I answer, in the first place, justice would then be done to the militia, which now is not: and, in the second place, I answer, that if they were paid, and if “a tax were laid equally upon every part of the community for the purpose of paying them,” I will consent to do militia duty again myself, if “every part of the community” were not stirring the inquiry, very soon, whether that enormous tax were necessary—whether the circumstances of the country and of the times were so fraught with danger, as to justify such sacrifices for security against that danger.  The question would come up, whether anything more were called for, by a wise reference to the circumstances of the times, than, that arms should be provided at the public charge for the public defense,–that they should be deposited in places where they might be kept in order in time of security, and seized on in an hour in time of alarm: and if this were now thought to be enough, and if some measure like this were now adopted, for one, I doubt not that the good old commonwealth of Massachusetts, whenever she sees that “the Cambells are comin’” indeed, will soon muster a man to a musket,–a man, too, who, though he has never handled it on parade, will show his enemy that he knows what his musket was made for.
            I have, thus far, endeavored to present to you, my hearers, some considerations, the object of which has been to bring your attention to the system of militia laws, in this commonwealth, especially so far as that system is subject to the legislative wisdom of the commonwealth,–apart from the provisions and requirements of the laws of the United States,–that, if it be found capable of amendment, it may, in due time, become the subject of amendment.  I have endeavored to make myself understood.  Would that I had power to make the evils of the system felt here, as they are felt by the citizen abroad.—If it be said that I manifest no respect for the law, my answer is, that I feel none.  The framers of the system may have framed it wisely for their times; but since they have slept, and their graves have been hallowed, as they are hallowed, by the gratitude of their children, the times have changed; and if we are as wise as our fathers, our laws will be so changed as to be as well adapted to our times, as the laws of our fathers were to theirs.  I would not be insensible to the value of those men’s services who have labored to accommodate the system to our times, nor yet deaf to the arguments which its advocates advance in its favor.  Shall we consider one or two of these arguments?
            We are told that the present trainings of the militia “teach civility and respect for authority.”—That the respect of the militia-man for the authority that subjects him to sacrifices and inconveniences, to fatigue and exposure and expense, which, with but half the sagacity and sensibility of an ordinary New Englander, he must see to be unnecessary, and feel to be oppressive,–will be proved, that his veneration for the laws will be put to a severe test, by these trainings—and that his civility, towards those officers who are required by their duty to exercise this authority, will be very adequately tried by these days of drill and review, indeed, I do not doubt.  Bur that he will be taught respect for this authority;–or that he will learn any great civility, or show much of what he has already learned, while moving under the instant fear of being put under guard, I should think he must have a strong natural affinity to civility towards “men in office,” and a particular aptitude to learn respect for authority, to encourage us to hope.
            We hear, too, of the benefit which the laboring part of the community derives from the relaxation and recreation furnished by the military holidays, and are told that the health and spirits are recruited by them.
            In regard to these benefits, I shall not speak with confidence.  It belongs rather to the medical generation to give an opinion in regard to them; and though every man, under our happy form of government, has a right to give his opinion as a statesman, not every man has a right to prescribe as a doctor.  I have always understood, however, that alternation is one of the leading principles of discipline in the animal economy.  The relaxation of the sedentary man is, therefore, to be sought in action, and that of the laborer in repose.  What sanative power there may be to a laboring man, in the difference between working all day in one field-with a hoe, and working all day in another field with a gun, is a question which I shall leave with the faculty.  I cannot but remark, however, that, admitting all the great benefit to the man who eats his bread in the sweat of his brow, that is claimed for him in an occasional  relaxation from toil, and in a season of comparative repose, that benefit is secured to him by the gentle and most happy authority of our religion; which allows to him not five, but fifty days a year, in which he feels it a religious duty to rest from his labors, and enjoy the fruits of them in grateful adoration of the Divine Being.
            But we are told, once more, that in discharging his military duties, a soldier, and especially an officer cultivates his sense of self-respect; he feels his importance to society, and acquires a habit of acting with a regard to his character.  “Every man,” it is said, “who wears an epaulette, feels in a greater or lesser degree, the pride his station.”[iii] 
            Ay, “the pride of his station”—the pride of office.  And are we certain that it is well that he should feel this pride of office, even as he does?  Well for the community, or for the man himself who wears the epaulette?
            Have you never seen the industrious young farmer, the respectable and thriving young mechanic, soon after he had put on his epaulette, pushed on by his pride out of sight of his prudence; stimulated by that badge of his country’s trust, to displays of hospitality, to the “gentlemen officers and fellow soldiers” of his corps, to which his means were not equal; taking counsel of his pride, rather than of his purse, for his own costume, and for the

                                                “—–tilting furniture, emblazoned shields,
                                                Impresses quaint, caparisons, and steeds,
                                                Bases and tinsel trappings”

of his station; till his shop was forsaken, his farm mortgaged, his habits of industry broken up, and the man himself broken down?  The zeal of the soldier hath eaten many a citizen up.
            And if this pride of office will drive a man with one epaulette into a forgetfulness of himself, well may it be expected to drive a man with two, into a forgetfulness of others.  Are you sure that your militia laws will always keep, within the limits which they have themselves marked out, those distinguished military characters, otherwise, most worthy and most valuable men, who have felt most sensibly this pride of office?  If your laws allow as I suppose they do, a brigadier general, within certain limits, and on certain conditions, to call out his brigade for review in one body; is there no danger that a major general will mount an analogy of his own, and gallop to the conclusion that your laws allow him, which I suppose they do not, to call out his division for review in one body?  And that your young men of civic habits and with constitutions conformed to civic habits, will be called out to fatigue duty, to sleep upon the tented field, and even on ground where no tents are, to wage a warfare, and that at their own charges, with cold and wet; a warfare at which a veteran might tremble, and in which Death seeks—ay, and ere yet has found, and followed till he seized, the soldier of a feebler frame!  Have we not ground to suspect the pride of military office, and guard against its assumptions?  Is there not a reason to believe, that where it conduces once to the public weal, it conduces twice to private wo?
            But, it may be asked, shall we set at naught the parting counsel of the illustrious Father of his country, “that in peace we prepare for war.  Let your navy guard your coasts at home, and plead for your interests and for your rights abroad—guard your coasts with fire, and plead with thunder for your rights.  Let your armories ring with the “busy note of preparation.”  Let your magazines of arms and ammunition be kept full, for the common safety, at the common charge.  Let them stand, in their fullness, by your temples of justice, and, if need be, by every one of your temples of religion ; and doubt not, that when there is need, the worshippers in either temple will well know what those weapons mean.  When, and where, did New England ever complain that, in her danger, she could not man all her guns?  Or that she had more powder and shot on her hands, than her children were ready to take off?   I have never read that chapter of her Lamentations.  May we not argue to the future from the past?  Dare we not trust our ships for protection from invasion—our ships of war, that, at the first foot-fall of a coming foe, would growl along our coast like watch-dogs?  If we dare not, let us, like the prudent Belgians, listen to the suggestions of wisdom, and raise our barriers where our perils press.  Let us listen to the teachings of our shores themselves, and what Nature has made strong, let us make stronger.  Let our granite fortresses, that know look down in defiance upon the waves, be made to look down in defiance upon all that can float thereon.  Let those surly and laconic pleaders, that argue the cause of nations in the last appeal—the “black but comely” brethren of your “Hancock’ and your “Adams” whose brighter, but not more honest faces are shining upon us today—be restrained, at the common expense, and seated, tier above tier, on our shore, their mouths filled with weighty arguments; and trust me, though the land behind them, in the meantime, be permitted to repose in security that has been graciously given it, whenever the trial comes on, those managers of your cause will show that a spirit of utterance has been given them.
            Gentlemen of “The Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company”—in the freedom with which I have spoken of the present state and exactions of our militia laws—in questioning, as I have done, and as every citizen has a right to do, both their wisdom and their righteousness—I am sure that you will not understand me as treating with disrespect either the men who administer, or the men who obey those laws, it is but just to observe, that their altercations have almost uniformly been amendments, in that they have almost always consisted in softening their antecedent severity, and, in taking off something of the burden which they had before laid upon the shoulders of the citizen.  In any age of improvement, it is not to be expected that public laws should be in advance of the public sentiment; but it is inevitable that, in a government of the people especially, they should not gradually follow the convictions and feelings of the community, in regard to the rights of the private citizen, and the degree of liberty, and of exemption from onerous duties, which he may justly claim, and securely enjoy.  Your own records furnish evidence that the state of things, in this respect, is much better now than it was in the infancy of your company, when Upshal was doomed, by the voice of the law, to perpetual imprisonment, because, as a matter of the law, to perpetual imprisonment, because, as a matter of conscience, he refused to bear arms; and we ought to not doubt that, in time, the onward movement of the age will be so far felt by the laws, that they will no longer require the private citizen to go a warfare at his own charges, for the public benefit; or even to put on his panoply at all, against an ideal enemy, and, day after day, so to fight, “as one that beateth the air:”  and till that time arrives, far be it from me, whatever I may think of the law, to speak disrespectfully of those who obey it.  No; let every citizen who obeys the laws, be respected because he obeys them.  If they are bad, let him change them, but not break them.  Let him change them if he can, and let him lift up his voice, and put forth his power where he can, that they may be changed.  We respect the citizen who obeys a law which he feels to be wise and righteous;  but  still more profoundly do we respect the citizen who obeys a law which he feels to be unrighteous and unwise, merely because it is the law.  There is that which challenges not respect merely, but veneration in the sight of thousands of our fellow citizens quitting their homes, and, at their own inconvenience and cost, moving in martial array, toiling under the heats and burdens of a military day, and feeling, at the same time, that they are spending their strength for naught, and their money for that which is not bread, merely as an act of homage to the majesty of law.
            No man in the community, however, is so insignificant that he may not do something for the benefit of the community.  Your own company may do much, by the weight of your influence, and by the authority of your example, towards undoing the heavy burdens which may yet be borne by any part of society, without profit to the rest, and breaking every yoke under which the citizen is made to bend his neck, without either enriching or strengthening the state.  By recurring to your past history, we see that yourselves have not unfrequently felt the pressure of pecuniary demands to be greater than you could conveniently bear; and though, by sumptuary laws, you have repeatedly striven against this pressure, and though some individuals of ample means have always been upon your roll, and though by great efforts , or by the excitement of particular occasions, your numbers have been swelled for a season; yet, again and again have they been “minished and brought low,” by the expenses incident to the objects and usages of your association.
            It becomes you, to give a proper tone to the public feeling on this subject.  Let me exhort you, therefore, having in all past time shown that, as soldiers, you cannot forget the state when she needs your services, to show now, that, as citizens, you will not forget yourselves, when she does not.  Husband your resources; squander neither them nor your time in vain parade, or thankless hospitalities, in time of peace; and show that you are contributing to the glory and strength of the state, not by playing the soldier, but by acting the citizen: then: in times of danger and of war, if those times shall come, rally around the altar of your country, with the fruits of your of your peaceful labors.  Cast your treasures upon that altar, with the promptness of the ancient and the honorable of other days; nay, if it must be so, leap upon that altar yourselves—a living and a willing sacrifice—and then, not on earth alone, but in heaven, will you be regarded as having offered a reasonable service.


 

[i] Letter on the military system, addressed to John Adams by William H. Sumner, Adjutant General of Massachusetts, 1823. P.26.

[ii] See Westminster Review, Jan. 1826

[iii] Letter before cited  p. 46

The Sermon on the Mount Carl Bloch, 1890

Sermon – Artillery Election – 1814, Massachusetts

Samuel Cary (1785-1815) Biography:

Cary (whose father was a minister) graduated from Harvard in 1804, when nineteen. He entered the study of theology and in 1808 he took a probationary position at King’s Chapel in Boston (which began as an Anglican Church in 1686). Successfully performing his assigned duties, in 1809 he was asked to join the staff of King’s Chapel as a Junior Pastor, but in 1815, he became very ill and was forced to retire from preaching. At the urging of friends, Cary traveled to England as a better climate in which to convalesce, but passed away while there.

The Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company was originally organized and chartered in England in 1527. Many of those who arrived in America in Plymouth in the early 1600s had been involved with the Company and saw the need for one in the New World, for there was absolutely no organized military force to provide protection. In 1637, a group of settlers sought a charter from then governor John Winthrop, but he initially refused the request, wanting no organized military that could overthrow the civil power. However, one year later, he changed his mind and granted a charter. On the first Monday of that June, the election of the officers was to take place on the Boston Commons, and for the next 300 years, the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company conducted its annual election of officers at the Boston Commons. Across the years as traditional military and militia reduced the need for the Ancient Artillery Company, it became more of a civic organization, raising funds for local churches, helping enforce local laws, and promoting the local Boston economy. Members of the Company likewise contributed their time and finances to education, religion, and charity.


SERMON

Preached Before The

ANCIENT AND HONORABLE

ARTILLERY COMPANY,

In Boston, June 6, 1814

Being the 177th Anniversary of Their

Election of Officers

By Samuel Cary,

One of the Ministers of the Chapel, Boston,

 

Non jam ad culmina rerum

Injustos erevisse queror; tolluntur  in altum

Ut lapsu graviore ruant.           Claudian.

 

BOSTON:

Published by Thomas Wells, 3, Hanover Street

John Eliott, Printer.

1814.

 

SERMON

 

2 Samuel 24:16.

And the Lord said unto the Angel that destroyed the people, it is enough, stay thou Thine Hand

 

       It is at all times a most animating subject to consider the proofs of divine agency in the affairs of this world; the connexion which exists between the revolutions of human society, its improvement or corruption, its prosperity or wretchedness and God the beneficent cause and controller of all things.  It is peculiarly so at this period of the world, when we have lived to see a course of events, to which nothing in history can be at all parallel; events so vast, so unexpected, so appalling; which have so baffled all our calculations and all human foresight, that the mind cannot rest upon mere natural causes, but ascends and fixes itself upon that invisible power, which calls order out of confusion and joy out of depression and despair.  And the subject presents itself with obvious propriety on the present occasion, when the soldier appears in the temple of the most high, to acknowledge, that his courage and strength and skill, without the divine blessing, are all vanity; that it is God, who covers him with his shield in battle; that peace and war, glory and shame, victory and defeat are from his hand.

I shall make no apology therefore, if I should deviate from what may have been the usual practice on these occasions, for the sake of making such remarks upon these great occurrences, as may display the agency of divine providence in producing them and their tendency to confer ultimate and great benefit upon human society.

Let us endeavor to recall some of those apprehensions, which not many months ago, made every good and every thoughtful man among us tremble for himself and for mankind.  What a spectacle of horror, of cold-hearted, merciless tyranny, of the irresistible and triumphant career of vice was at that time exhibited in Europe!  We saw a despotism of a character totally unknown in modern history, more ferocious and more extensive than the soundest politicians had believed could have existed in an advanced and enlightened state of society, establishing itself, upon the ruin of old and venerable habits, principles and institutions;-a despotism possessing all the worst features of the ancient governments, with more experience, more profound views of human nature, more skill in applying itself to the character, the favorite prejudices, the corrupt passions and sympathies of mankind;-a dreadful despotism, which held both soul and body in chains. We saw it advancing with an impetuosity, which confounded all calculations and all resistance; bearing down in its course, monarchs and armies and nation, degrading the exalted, disarming the powerful, endeavoring to crush every feeling of patriotism and every manly sentiment; proclaiming an exterminating war against human liberty, virtue and happiness.  We saw it inflicting misery upon its victims till their courage is gone, till they resigned themselves to despair.

It was a time of universal dismay—a day of clouds and of thick darkness.  There was nothing in prospect to support or encourage hope, no visible means of arresting the destroyer in his course and saving the world from slavery, nothing in short to console the philanthropist but confidence in the over-ruling, the ever watchful, the benevolent providence of the Supreme Being. The most enlightened of our citizens thought they could perceive distinctly, that the foundations of this terrible power were laid with too much care and were too broad and deep to be shaken by any probable human efforts; that there were causes, to be found in the profligate spirit and principles of the French revolution and in the habits and comparative imbecility of the other nations of Europe, which ensured its permanence and its security.  They told us of the immense resources of France; of the admirable subtlety with which her plans of subjugation had been conceived and the steadiness with which they had been kept in view and the success which had followed them; of the boldness with which she had released herself from every mortal obligation, from all those common ties, those habits and laws, which connected her with other people and place her in some measure within their control.  A nation like France, despising the restraints of justice and humanity, calling its whole population to arms, employing its whole wealth in the service of war or of corruption, giving all its spirits and energies to foreign conquest, must, as they thought, be always irresistible.  They told us of the martial enthusiasm of this people, of their thirst for glory and their contempt for the arts of peace, a passion which had marked their national character for centuries, which was diffused through all ranks and all possible conditions, which glowed in the bosom of squalid penury and reconciled the slave to his chains and was extinguished only with life;– a passion which taught them to submit to any sacrifices and to follow any leader who could cut his way to victory.  We were referred to the character of the man, who held these great resources at his own disposal; to his fierce, inexorable, insatiable ambition; to his unrivalled skill in the art of sowing discord among his enemies, dividing their strength, alarming their fears, inflaming their cupidity; to the originality and grandeur of his military schemes, the facility with which he could strike all the points of his object at the same moment, the fury of his onset, the rapidity with which one blow was followed by another, the immense armies, trained by exact discipline and animated by the hope of victory and plunder, with which he could overwhelm his terrified enemies.  We were told of that keen sight, which penetrated all the sources of danger and was forever on its guard, which detected hostility in its very germ and could blast it; which suffered nothing to escape its notice, however remote, however difficult of access, which could serve as an instrument of ambition.  Can we forget the impassioned tone of eloquence, in which our statesmen and orators declared to their countrymen, that the same fatal influence, which had destroyed the energies of Europe, had extended itself to our own shores and was already visible in the base servility of the government and in the degraded character and growing depravity of the people?  Can we forget the anguish, which these great men saw their country associating itself with the fortunes of this sanguinary tyrant and throwing at his feet the noble inheritance, which had been purchased with the blood of its best citizen?  We thought of consequences of this most hateful union.  It was a theme, on which our emotions were unutterable; on which we dwelt, “till our hearts grew liquid and we could have poured them out like water.”[i]

Let me hold this picture before your eyes a little longer. — It was a time, when men said, one to another, doth God know this?  Is the arm of the Lord shortened, that he cannot save?  Why is this moral desolation, this contempt of truth and justice and mercy and good faith, permitted to spread itself over the face of society?  It was indeed the language of short-sighted impatience, of unmanly, thoughtless despondency; of men, who, because they could not see the end of these things and how far this confusion and misery might be consistent with the ultimate felicity of mankind, distrusted the benevolent intentions of the Deity; of men, who did not allow themselves to consider, that the design of the calamity, might be corrective and remedial; that, however terrible and mysterious, it might still be intended to to remove greater and more fatal corruptions and to be the instrument of some vast and permanent good to be conferred hereafter.  We have proofs equally strong and incontestable, that the storms of society and the storms of nature are called forth and controlled by God.  We see them equally serving as means of purification and followed by that genial, benign sunshine, which yields health, plenty and cheerfulness.  Everyone knows, that war, not-withstanding its influence upon public morals and its innumerable calamities, is one of the most powerful instruments, in the hand of God, of destroying deep rooted and inveterate abuses, of elevating the human character, eliciting its noblest energies and displaying all the sublimity of virtue; that it advances society toward perfection, increases its knowledge, improves its condition, excites its piety;[ii]  that its ultimate effects, in one word, are often inestimable.  While the dark cloud is hanging over our heads and the thunder is roaring furiously around is, the heart may perhaps sink with terror, because the end is distant and uncertain and the tempest, we think, may discharge its fury upon ourselves.  But if we are permitted to live til it is over and the light of heaven gain bursts forth in full splendor, we feel that what excited all this solicitude was a dispensation of mercy.

We have seen the justice of the Supreme Being manifested in the utter ruin of this tremendous despotism.  It is now proved to have been a scourge in his hands, inflicting misery under his eye and in such degree and to such extent, as his perfect wisdom determined to be right.  It was permitted to rise, like a malignant star, to a fearful elevation and to “shake pestilence from its horrid hair,” till the mysterious purpose of heaven was accomplished; and then God stretched forth his hand and sunk it forever.  There is nothing since the miraculous victories of the Old Testament. Which has demonstrated the divine interposition so clearly, as this great act of retribution; nothing which has taken place so directly in opposition to the strongest human probabilities, or to which human causes, even in the eye of the most intelligent observers, appeared so totally inadequate.  Could we have believed, that a force so immense and irresistible as that which invaded the north of Europe, a body of disciplined warriors, a mass, vigorous, active, intelligent, in proportion to its magnitude; animated by the most powerful of human passions; supported by the accumulated resources of Europe, conducted by a leader, accustomed to see victory hovering about his standard, whose very name paralyzed the strength of his antagonists; and opposed by a people without political or military renown and degraded by domestic tyranny ,—that these vast armies were marching to their graves?  Could any human sagacity have foreseen, that, in the heart of a half civilized country, there would have been displayed a miracle of magnanimity, unequalled by anything ever exhibited among mankind and will be learnt by future ages of admiration,—a people sacrificing their capital, the object of deep religious awe and the strongest national enthusiasm, to the safety of their country?  Could we have thought, that this accursed enemy of virtue herself?— that his overthrow would be so sudden, so complete, so awful; that this mighty conqueror, who had set God and man at defiance, should, in the space of a few months, have fled, a trembling coward, alone, exhausted seeking his safety within the walls of his own palace; that so many enslaved people would have shaken off the yoke which crushed them to the earth and actually decree the repose of Europe, from the very throne of the disgraced and fallen oppressor?  Yet this is what our eyes have seen!  Oh God, how just and how terrible are thy judgments!

And now the day of vengeance and desolation is over.  God has to the destroying angel, it is enough, stay thine own hand.  The fearful images, which have passed before us in rapid succession, have disappeared, and the light of hope and peace is drawing upon the world.  But still it may be asked, can events, which have produced in their progress such extreme misery, be referred to the Supreme Being, and to beneficence?  Are we to consider the anarchy and horrors of the French revolution and its deadly enmity to religion and the consequent subversion of the most sacred rights of mankind, as produced by the permission of God and as an act of mercy?  Let it be remembered, my friends, that evil, or what we call evil, when it is employed as the punishment of vice, or as the means of rectifying disorder, or of producing good, is one of the instruments of benevolence.  If it is the only mode, or the most effectual mode of promoting human improvement;—if, for instance, it is the direct the direct tendency of this great experiment, which we have now seen brought to its conclusion, to develop and to establish those principles, which are essential to social happiness; if it will serve to give mankind more enlightened views of the nature of government or of religion, to increase their knowledge or their virtue, to effect radical and permanent beneficial changes in their condition;— then it is unquestionably a subject of thankfulness to heaven and ought to be acknowledged as such by us, who survive the storm and by those, who come after us.  That this is, in fact, its tendency, I will endeavor to show in a few words.

It would be wrong for us to undertake to say what precise effects will take place when this convulsion of Europe has subsided.  But there are some general views of the subject, which, at least, so far display its tendency to promote human happiness upon the whole, as to vindicate the equity of the divine government in permitting it to exist.

In the first place, we may consider it as a lesson of most solemn instruction to the present and all future ages.  It has taught mankind in a tone of energy, which must forever be heard and felt;— that the restraints of law and of religion are essential to  the very existence of human liberty;—that a state of rational freedom is not that in which every citizen may act as he is prompted by his corrupt passions, or his false principles, or the impulse of his wild imagination; but that in which he has the power of acting the part for which God created him and improving his own character and advancing his own and his neighbor’s felicity.  It has given more solid ideas of government itself and of the rights of mankind.  It has exhibited to the world the singular spectacle of a pure theoretic democracy, –a government of the very populace, a state in which all ranks, conditions, and understandings are levelled, in which power is entrusted without discrimination  to the ignorant and the intelligent, the upright and the base, the men of character, principle, virtue and those who have no consciousness of their responsibility and are capable of sacrificing everything to their own selfishness,—a state in which the passions are triumphant and every clamorous demagogue becomes an oracle.  We have seen how far such a state of things is consistent with public liberty and happiness.  We have seen the passion for unrestrained freedom overturning principles, which had been sanctioned by the experience of ages, plunging a flourishing people into anarchy, and at length subjecting it to the rod of a ferocious tyranny, which had no heart to pity the miseries it inflicted.  And is it possible for us, or for posterity to see these things in vain?

It is most important, that this decisive experiment should be permitted to take place in the present state of society.  It was the error of many intelligent minds, that the intellectual condition of mankind was so evidently improved, that they would now be safe under a government of philosophy; that liberty was in no danger of being abused, because men were capable of discerning their real interests and the necessity of restraining themselves.  Similar experiments in ancient times had no weight in the minds of these reasoners.  They saw nothing in the lesson of history, nothing in the state of the Greek and Roman republics, or the causes of their destruction, which was at all applicable to an enlightened age.  They considered the principles of government as so much better understood and the means of judging rightly on subjects that immediately affect human happiness, as diffused so generally among all classes, that the seeds of corruption would be at once detected and extinguished; that a free people would, of course, be virtuous, because virtue was essential to their security.  But now this delusion is ended.

In the second place, it is the evident tendency of these events to destroy the accumulated abuses of the old systems.  That such abuse did exist and were inveterate and most oppressive is undeniable; that they were an effectual bar to the general advancement of society and that it was most important, that they should be rectified, is also undeniable.  But how was this desirable end to be accomplished?  How were evils, which had become so venerable by age, so confirmed by education and habit, so closely associated with all the sympathies of human nature, to be separated from the good and thrown away forever?  Not by the mere influence of reason, for reason had to be content with power, with ambition, with avarice, with the fear of change,—with enemies, who would either despise its gentle remonstrances, or would not hear them;—not by the moral improvement of mankind, for it was first necessary  to remove the evils, before such improvement  could exist.  Nothing could have so effectually and so radically extirpated these abuses, as the great convulsion which God, in his wisdom, has permitted to take place in Europe; an event it is true, which seemed, instead of correcting, to destroy; which overturned the whole political fabric, with its good as well as its evil, its beauty and deformity; but which, without question, will prove most salutary in its consequences.  The discordant and inflammable principles, which had been so long collecting, have discharged their fury and are harmless.  Society will be restored to tranquility and to refinement.  It will be settled upon more solid principles awakened as it is, and made wise by the severe lessons of experience.  There will probably be a more equal distribution of power, a more sacred regard to the acknowledged rights of mankind, more distinct ideas of the duties of those who govern and those who obey, a more solemn conviction, that the true glory of the one consists in giving efficacy to just laws by their ready acquiescence, and that of the other in promoting the public prosperity.

Again it is the tendency of these events to encourage a commercial, instead of a military spirit, among the nations of Europe.  War has always been their passion and pride; a passion kept alive and cherished by the nature of their governments, their habits and institutions.  But in the general wreck of ancient habits and institutions, these sources of military enthusiasm have disappeared and will not soon and perhaps never be revived.  War is at length a prostrate and vanquished enemy.  The world is exhausted by its miseries and tired of the follies of ambition and the blood-stained trophies of victory.  What a lesson for the pride of kings in the poor, degraded exile of the Mediterranean, yesterday the terror and scourge of mankind, darting thunder from Olympus and covering the earth with desolation; today so low, so despicable, that his conquerors will not deign to crush him!

Europe will now seek felicity in the arts of peace, in the interchange of good offices, of wealth, of knowledge; in the encouragement of industry and honorable enterprise, in giving useful employment to all classes of its population; in exciting a love of order and truth and justice and all those virtues, which are the support and ornament of society.  That commerce may eventually produce luxury and its peculiar vices and a spirit of mutual hostility, is not improbable.  But in the mean time the general state of society will have been most essentially improved; habits of amity will have been formed between the people of different nations, the principles of national law and justice will have become generally understood and respected; and war will neither possess its present malignant character, nor will its effects be so ruinous to the general interests of mankind.

I persuade myself, that these most awful dispensations of divine providence are intended to produce great efforts upon the religious character of society.  They have already drawn the eyes of the world to the Supreme Being.  In the stillness of prosperity, when men are wafted gently along the stream of life by favorable breezes and cheered by a serene sky, they forget the Creator and their dependence and their duty.  It is amid the horrors of the storm and the earthquake and the falling empires that we fly to religious principles for consolation and feel that without the protective care of the Deity, we must perish, we are nothing.  The persons, who are now to act a distinguished part in Europe, have been trained in the school of adversity; they know the value of religion and they will support and diffuse it by their example.
But this is not all.  Christianity was given by God to soften the hearts and reform the manners of the world.  It is a system most admirably adapted to its end; and eighteen centuries have elapsed since its influence began to be exerted.  Has it been successful?  No. and the reason is, that Christianity, as it has been current in Europe during this long period, is as distinct from that simple and benevolent religion, which was once delivered to the saints, as the abominations of Paganism. The thing, which has assumed this name, is a ferocious system, armed with the sword of the civil magistrate, loaded with disgusting absurdities, teaching sentiments concerning God and the condition of mankind, which fill the soul with horror and breathing vengeance against all, who venture to question its infallibility.

When the religion of Jesus was taken under the protection of the state as incapable of protecting itself and was decorated with artificial ornaments to make it venerable in the eyes of the vulgar; and when the scriptures were withdrawn from the public eye, as if this gift of God was an inconsiderate gift and ill adapted to the conditions or wants of man,— then a dark cloud spread itself over this bright orb, and it became invisible.  Then the dogmas of ignorant pride and the reveries of an absurd philosophy were delivered to mankind, as the genuine doctrine of the gospel.  Our faith fell into the hands of theorists, who undertook to make the work of omniscience more perfect, to supply what they chose to consider deficient and to beautify what to their tasteless vision seemed gross deformities.  The consequence was that a mass of falsehood became incorporated with Christianity, which was handed down from generation to generation; and which, though in some measure exploded at the reformation, still exerted a most fatal influence throughout Europe.  But in this whirlwind which we have seen subverting religion and liberty and government, from their foundations, these abuses, of which we speak, have disengaged themselves from Christianity.  There is at least this advantage resulting under the care of divine providence from a general inattention to religion, that what is false belonging to it loses its hold upon the affections; error ceases to be encouraged and it expires; systems are permitted with impunity to be severely scrutinized; and the true principles of religion, which are indestructible, invulnerable by any revolutions of society, founded in the nature of man and eternal as his duration— these true principles rise from their temporary depression in a purified and most glorious form, to be the consolation, the support, the joy of mankind.
It appears that the great principle of Protestantism, the right of worshipping God unmolested, according to the dictates of conscience, is to be guaranteed by the new constitution of France.  My friends, have we considered this all-important, this most animating fact with sufficient attention?  The rights of conscience are at length distinctly recognized and protected upon the continent of Europe!  Christians then are permitted to search the records of their faith, without opposition and without fear; to hold their own conclusions and to avow them honestly; to assail and reject error without exposing themselves to public scorn, or the lash of ecclesiastical tyranny.  The mind is at last free.  Man may worship the God of his affections and his understanding, the God of the scriptures, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, instead of the idol of superstition, or of the civil magistrate.  The principle obstruction to freedom of inquiry and the acquisition of evangelical truth and the genuine influence of Christianity, are at an end and is it too much to predict, that the gospel in its original simplicity, the gospel as it was preached by Christ and his apostles, that gospel, which breathes nothing but benevolence and subdues the whole heart to purity,—will come forth from obscurity and reign in triumph over the very people who have loaded it with injuries?  What a glorious prospect presents itself to our eyes!  What a day is breaking upon the moral state of man!  Intolerance, bigotry, persecution, —demons, your hour is come, your empire is destroyed!

Gentlemen of the Ancient and Honourable Artillery—-In applying this subject to the state and prospects of our own country, it is impossible to disguise or to restrain our apprehensions.  We have seen the Supreme Being wise and benevolent in his dispensations; and this should teach us to confide in his care and to be satisfied, that whatever lot is reserved for us will be right.  But at the same time we have seen him leading mankind to happiness through scenes of inconceivable misery.  Perhaps it may be necessary, that we should suffer more and severely, before we are permitted to see days of prosperity.  It may be that there are prevailing vices among us, which must be removed by punishment; a national tameness and insensibility to honour, which requires to be stimulated; a timid, luxurious, indolent, mercenary spirit, which fears to be disturbed, more than it fears disgrace; a national degeneracy, which must be checked before it drags us to ruin.  Our fathers scorned to stop and calculate, whether it was more profitable to be freemen or slaves.—perhaps the blessing of regenerated Europe are not to be imparted to us, who may be unworthy to enjoy them. When, however, I consider the character of the nation, with which we at war, the astonishing elevation on which it stands, its unexampled magnanimity;— when I consider the heroism and inflexible fidelity with which it has defended the cause of God and man, of religion, of liberty, of justice, of everything valuable, which escaped the fangs of anarchy; the enthusiasm with which it has flown to the succor of nations who dared to struggle for their rights; its devotion to the arts of peace and to whatever improved the intellectual and moral conditions of society—-I think there is everything to hope. I think this people will not tarnish the ineffable glory which surrounds them, by an act of mere vengeance.

But, gentlemen, there are more serious causes of apprehension than foreign hostility.  The collisions between this country and Europe may be extinguished.  But will peace reconcile the innumerable contending interests which exist among ourselves?  Will it appease the fierce animosities which are cherished by the different sections of this republic, or restrain the ungovernable spirit of party, or teach the people and their rulers to become disinterested patriots?  I fear the time is not far distant, when these seeds of national disgrace and wretchedness will shoot into fatal luxuriance.  But on this topic I have no time and no desire to enlarge.  Let us trust in God.  If prosperity is in store for us, let us take warning by what we have suffered and bear it with moderation.  If we are to pass through scenes of horror, let it be with that fortitude and that dignity, which will prove us worthy of our ancestors and bright examples to our posterity.

OFFICERS OF THE COMPANY.

1813-1814
Captain,   Capt. Jonathan Whitney
Lieutenant, Mr. Jacob Hall
Ensign,       Mr. Caswell Beal

Sergeants,
Capt. John Roulstone       Mr. Edward Gray
Mr. Abraham Wood         Mr. James Hooper

1814-1815
Captain,  Mr. William Howe
Lieutenant, Capt. George Welles
Ensign, Mr. Levi Melcher

Sergeants,
Capt. Benjamin Loring                  Capt. James B Marston
Mr. John Dodd                               Mr. Thomas Wells


 

[i] Ames

[ii] When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness.  Isaiah 26: 9.

Sermon – Eulogy on John Quincy Adams

John Quincy Adams’ Death
Joshua Bates (1776-1854) Biography:

Born the same year that Congress penned the Declaration of Independence, Bates grew up helping with the family farm and serving as a clerk in the family store. Self-taught, he was able to enter Harvard in 1797 as a sophomore, and after three years he graduated with honors. He then took a teaching position at Philips Andover Academy, which is how he earned his living while studying theology. Ordained in 1803, he became pastor of the Congregational Church in Dedham, Massachusetts, until 1818, when he became President of Middlebury College, a position he held until 1839. After retiring from Middlebury, Bates served as the chaplain of the United States House of Representatives from 1839-1840. Former President John Quincy Adams was a member of the House during the time he was chaplain, and when Adams died eight years later in 1848 (following seventy years of public service in America’s behalf), Bates delivered the following sermon eulogizing Adams.


A DISCOURSE

ON

THE CHARACTER, PUBLIC SERVICES, AND DEATH,

OF

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

 

BY JOSHUA BATES.

 

WORCHESTER:

PRINTED BY SAMUEL CHISM.

218 Main Street.

 

 

DISCOURSE.

Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel.

2 Sam. Iii. 38.

            “Know ye not that there is a great man fallen?”  This inquiry, or rather announcement, made in Judea, three thousand years ago, might, with great propriety, have been made in our country, when recently John Quincy Adams, under the sudden stroke of disease, sunk down in his seat in the Congress, and soon after died, still within the walls of the Capitol of the United States.[i]  Indeed, the announcement was made, in language scarcely less forcible and impressive, not only at Washington, but, through the whole land; was made and sent abroad with lightning speed, with telegraphic dispatch.  And everywhere, as the tidings spread, the involved sentiment seems to have met a ready response, and been echoed back, in soft and solemn tones, – “A great man is fallen.”

            Nor should we, my hearers, though far removed from the exciting scene of his death, and dwelling in a retired village, suffer the announcement of the solemn fact to pass by us, or the recollection of it to escape from our minds, without some special notice of the event itself, and some practical application of the instructions which it brings along with it.  I repeat the language of the text to-day,[ii] therefore, not for the purpose of comparing the event, to which I apply it, with that to which it was originally applied by David, the king and sweet Psalmist of Israel; nor for the purpose of tracing analogies and running a parallel between the great man of old, whose death David announced to the children of Israel, and him, whose death, at Washington, has been recently announced to us.  I adopt the language of the text, merely as a suitable and striking introduction to a discourse, on the character, public services, and death of this great man of Massachusetts, of New England, of the United States of America, of the world; who has thus fallen, full of years and crowned with honors.  Accordingly, I shall endeavor to delineate a few of the most prominent features of his character, and speak of some of the most striking occurrences and actions of his life, which conspired to constitute him “a great man.”  And I intend to intersperse the whole with such reflections and practical remarks, as seem adapted to the condition and claims of our country; and as are calculated to remind us of our obligations, and prompt us to the faithful discharge of duty, as members of civil society and citizens of a great republic.

            With this view I must detain you a little while, with the definition of terms; and occupy a few moments in showing what are the elements of greatness in human character – what constitutes a great man.

            Clearly all that is sometimes called great, is not truly great.  Greatness in man, evidently does not depend on position in society, on place and power, on office and rank, on pedigree and primogeniture; on the ten thousand nominal and factitious distinctions which have been arbitrarily made in society.  For the most elevated rank and the most honorable titles are often assumed by men of the lowest minds and vilest character; and not unfrequently the highest civil offices are conferred on the weak and the wicked.  In hereditary governments, the chances are, at least equal, that his will be the fact; whenever an heir-apparent ascends the throne; because he ascends, of course, without regard to character or qualifications.  And even in elective states, want of judgment in the electors, deception practiced by selfish aspirants, and the blinding influence of party spirit, too often produce the same results.  Thus the high places in civil society are sometimes filled by men of little minds, and destitute of all moral and religious principles.  And the ultimate consequence is, that the wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are thus exalted.  Then vice and iniquity every where abound, drawing down upon the country the judgments of Heaven.

            Nor will the possession and development of some one high quality alone, make a great man.  A man may be a great mathematician or a great poet, a great general or a great politician, and yet be destitute of that, which is absolutely necessary to constitute a great man.  Yes, even the best moral qualities may be seen in connection with much intellectual deficiency; such weakness of judgment, wildness of imagination, or instability of purpose in a man, as to forbid the application of the epithet great to him as a man; however, charity may wink at his errors, smile at his foibles, pity his misfortune, and yet praise him for his good intentions.

            But we may remark positively, that great intellectual faculties and high moral powers, fully developed, properly directed, and actively employed, are all requisite to make a truly great man.  Or, to express the same thing in different language, we may say, a great man must possess, at once, symmetry and elevation of character.  His original powers of mind and susceptibilities of heart must be of a high order, cultivated with care, drawn out and kept in such just proportion and steady equilibrium, as to produce a finished character – firm and elevated, beautiful and sublime.  Or better still, perhaps, we may say: a great man must show his greatness, by standing on high ground, where his light may shine and he may be seen; and by there exhibiting those excellencies which are involved in a faithful and diligent discharge of the duties, growing out of all the relations of life and immortality.

            He must, therefore, be a man of firmness of purpose and decision of character; of self-possession, self-culture, and self-control; and all these qualities he must possess in such measure, as not only to secure his own happiness, but to be able, most effectually, to promote the happiness of others – of all others, who are dependent on him and connected with him.  He must be prepared to discharge faithfully and successfully all the duties which his social and civil relations impose upon him; prepared for the service of his country and generation; prepared, especially, for the service of his God and the enjoyment of his favor forever.

            Hence, though there may be degrees of greatness in character, and, of course, different classes of great men, yet the number of those who are truly eminent, and are entitled to the high distinction denoted by the epithet, is, in every age and country, comparatively small.  For, as we have said, no one can be truly great, without possessing great original powers of mind; nor unless these great powers are fully developed, carefully cultivated, properly directed, and faithfully employed.

            These cultivated and well-directed powers, I repeat, may exist in different degrees and various proportions, in different men; but in whatever degree or proportion they are possessed by any one, and in whatever relation or office he may be placed, if truly a great man, he will be found always prepared to meet the calls of duty with promptitude and decision, and to pursue the path of duty with untiring assiduity and never-yielding perseverance.

            Especially, let it be remembered, the religious element is indispensable to constitute greatness of character in man.  All other powers and qualities, however exalted and apportioned, will fail to produce true greatness, without the combining and controlling influence of this high quality.  To render them subservient to the purpose for which they were bestowed, or even to secure their salutary tendency, they must be sanctified by religious sentiment, and exercised and employed under the direction of religious principle.

            This element of greatness in character, has, indeed, been generally overlooked or forgotten.  Hence, talents of the most brilliant order have been wasted; genius permitted to run wild, and scatter abroad the seeds of death; and knowledge, though extensive and powerful, suffered to lie dormant, or become merely the power of producing mischief and misery in the world.  Hence the great general (so-called) has sometimes become a cruel murderer, destroying without mercy and almost without thought, the innocent and defenseless.  Hence the great poet (so-called) has sometimes become a trifler, a madman, a corrupter of youth, diffusing everywhere a mortal pestilence – error, ice, and wretchedness.  Hence, too, the great statesman and politician (so-called) has sometimes become a selfish demagogue, a fraudulent diplomatist, a cunning aspirant for power, and a cruel oppressor when in power.  Thus greatness (so-called – falsely so-called) sinks into littleness, into meanness even when separated from goodness.  Yes; all talents, however brilliant; all knowledge, however extensive; all developments of mental power, however mighty; all acquisitions of science and learning, however comprehensive; all natural sympathy and even moral sensibility, however exquisite; unsanctified by religious truth and uncontrolled by religious principle, will forever fail to  produce true greatness of character, or render any one truly a great man.  They need one essential ingredient to form the compound.  They want the combining and conservative element, the purifying and controlling power; that, which alone can give consistency, permanency and excellence; unity, beauty and sublimity, to human character; or render a man of great powers and acquisitions, truly a great man.

            Yet, as few as men of greatness of character are – here and there one in an age, like light-houses scattered along the sea coast, to guide the bewildered mariner – our country has produced her full proportion; and John Quincy Adams was decidedly one of the number.  Yes; he possessed all the elements of greatness, and most of them developed in a high degree, harmoniously combined, well balanced, and steadily employed, under the direction of enlightened conscience and fixed religious principle.

His native powers of mind seem to have been of a high order.  It may, perhaps, be thought by some, that his great attainments in literature and science, depended more upon his superior advantages for improvement, than on native vigor of intellect. It must indeed, be admitted, that his advantages were uncommonly great, and eminently calculated to develop his original powers of mind, and urge them forward to maturity.  Born at a most interesting period in the history of the country,[iii]  just as she was entering into her mighty struggle for independence, of parents deeply involved in the counsels and measures which led to that struggle and carried it through with success; rocked in the cradle of liberty and science, and nursed in the arms of piety and patriotism, his first impressions and earliest developments were unquestionably favorable to energy of character, enterprise of spirit, and that greatness to which he ultimately rose.  Especially was the influence of his excellent mother manifest in giving direction to his high pursuits and forming his elevated character, both intellectual and moral.  Under her superintendence his literary career, as well as his moral.  Under her superintendence his literary career, as well as his moral and religious training, was commenced.[iv]  And, even when withdrawn from her personal influence, by his residence with his father and others in Europe, he failed not to receive her high counsels through the medium of those excellent letters which are already before the public.

At the age of eleven years, he began to study foreign languages, both ancient and modern, in a foreign country; and, before he had reached the age of twenty, he had completed a course of liberal education, having pursued his studies at two universities,[v]  besides receiving the best tuition at home and abroad; and, at the same time, enjoying the advantages of travel and extended observation, in daily communion with some of the greatest minds and ripest scholars of the age.

But, while all this is admitted, it must be seen in the result, that the mind which could appreciate these advantages, meet their high claims on his energy and diligence, improve them all without distraction or weariness, and grow to maturity under their pressure and multiplied appliances, must have been a great mind; must have possessed happy tendencies and strong capabilities.  I am not, however, anxious to settle this metaphysical question, and balance the weight of evidence between the claims of original talents and a judicious, energetic, and persevering improvement of facilities and favorable opportunities.  It is enough for our purpose, that we are able to affirm and prove, that he possessed great powers of intellect, fully developed and completely disciplined; a mind of enlarged capacity, and well furnished with the richest stores of learning.

His opportunities for observation and the various circumstances of his early life, were surely favorable for the acquisition of knowledge.  But still, his perceptive faculties must have been acute, and his powers of attention and abstraction must have been great, or these opportunities and favoring circumstances would have availed him little; certainly would not have made him the ripe and universal scholar that he was.  Similar advantages have been enjoyed and abused by thousands.  Thousands, like him; have traveled in foreign lands, conversed with great minds and learned men, and received instruction in the best schools, who, nevertheless, wanted the capacity or energy of mind requisite for scholarship; for high attainments in literature and science; – not unfrequently have they come out  from the university “graduated dunces,” or returned from abroad, “traveled fools.”  He had the opportunities for improvement, it is true; and he improved them; because he possessed the capacity to receive and retain, and the energy to pursue and acquire knowledge.

We may, at least, affirm without the fear of contradiction, that his memory was extraordinary, perhaps unequalled.  I discover, however, nothing in his course of education peculiarly calculated to form such a memory; nothing but what is common to the discipline of a liberal education, with a steady exercise of the faculty, and a practical application of the knowledge acquired.  I know not, that he adopted any rules of arbitrary association, in order to strengthen his powers of retention and recollection; that he took any special pains to commit to memory, for the purpose of exercise and discipline; or that he reviewed what he read more frequently than other sound and finished scholars.  I see nothing, indeed, connected with his mental habits, peculiarly favorable to the improvement and enlargement of this intellectual faculty, except his early and continued practice of committing to writing, every day, the most important occurrences of the day, with his own views and reflections.  But this practice can scarcely be said to be peculiar to him.  Others have done the same thing; and some, perhaps; with equal care and particularity.  And yet his memory was certainly extraordinary; perhaps unparalleled, both as to its extend, retention, and readiness.  He seems to have taken notice of whatever occurred within the sphere of his observation; to have read whatever came to his hand, worthy of being read; and to have retained, and kept in a state of readiness for use, whatever of knowledge he had acquired, both by reading and observation.

It has been said, that readiness and retentiveness of memory are qualities inconsistent with each other, and not to be found in the same person; because they depend on antagonistic habits of association – the one belonging to the philosophic mind, and the other to the practical man of business.  But in him we have an example of their perfect consistency and complete union.  His memory was both philosophical and particular; both a retentive and a ready memory.  What he had once learned, as we said, he seems to have retained always; and what he thus knew, he had always at command, and ready for immediate and appropriate use.

The consequence of his great powers of memory, happily directed by the course of his education, and faithfully applied by his great industry and persevering energy of research, was, as already intimated, the acquisition of extensive and various knowledge – knowledge laid by in store, and yet held ready for use, whenever occasion called.

He was more or less acquainted with many of the modern languages of Europe; and several of them he could speak and write with readiness and accuracy.[vi]  In the classical languages of Greece and Rome, and especially the latter, he read much, and he was thoroughly acquainted with the literature which they embodied.  He was, too, a man of science; wonderfully catching the spirit of the times, and keeping along with the rapid progress, both of the abstract and the natural sciences.  But his knowledge of history, natural law, political economy, and the science of legislation and civil government, constituted his chief attainments, and furnished the mighty resources and high qualifications which he possessed for complicated action in public life, and the various services of his country to which he was called.[vii]

His unrivalled power in debate, depended more on his inexhaustible fund of knowledge and ready memory, than on any distinguished qualities of eloquence or peculiar graces of oratory.  He always overthrew his antagonists on the political arena, because he was always clad in panoply complete – armed cap-a-pe, with sword in hand, sharpened and burnished, and ready for action.  When pursued with objections, inquiries, and rash statements, as he sometimes was in Congress, and even with a spirit of bitterness and reproach, his resources of mind never failed him; his answers were always ready, his replies conclusive, his retorts keen; confounding his assailants with an array of facts which no man could gainsay, and a conclusiveness of argument which no man could resist.

It has been said, that no man ever attacked him wantonly, in a deliberative assembly, with impunity; that whoever presumed thus to assail him, might be sure of defeat – yes, if the combat was continued, of political death.  An illustration of the truth of this remark occurred in Congress, a few years ago, when he was suddenly attacked by a combination of talents and a conspiracy of interests and prejudices, with a view to his expulsion from the House of Representatives.  How expertly did he resist the attack on the right hand and on the left, in front and in rear; and how completely did he put the combined forces of his assailants to flight, and scatter them to the four winds of heaven!  During the first session of the twenty-sixth Congress, I remember, that a similar, though not so violent attack, was made upon him, with a similar result; and I remember, when the remark was subsequently made to one of the members of the House:  “Why, Mr. Adams seems to know more than any of you,” the prompt reply was: “Yes; more than all of us together.”

Another trait of intellectual character in Mr. Adams, which ought not to be passed without notice, is imagination.  This faculty, however, was certainly not so prominent in him, as was that of memory.  The two faculties, indeed, are never displayed, in very eminent degree, by the same person; because they depend on principles and habits of association differing from each other, and counteracting each other’s operation.  Memory depends on arbitrary connections, gross resemblances, and scientific classifications; but imagination on slight analogies, shadowy visions, ethereal views, and transcendental flights of fancy.  A rich, poetical imagination, therefore, is seldom found in connection with a giant memory.

His imagination, however was by no means deficient.  Some of his poetical effusions have been very favorably received by the literary public.  But if he was not eminent as a poet, he had sufficient power of imagination for the purposes of vivid conception, graphic description, forcible illustration; enough to constitute him a sound and dignified orator; enough to secure to him the title of “the old an eloquent,” as well as “the eloquent young man.”  His eloquence; however, did not depend on voice, or attitude, or playful gesture, but on

“Thoughts that breathe

And words that burn,”

on clearness of views, extent of knowledge, closeness of reasoning and soundness of judgment, expressed in appropriate and forcible language, and addressed to the understanding and the heart.

I well remember, with what dignity and commanding eloquence he rose, on the 5th of December, 1839, in that tumultuous assemblage of the Representatives of the people of the United States, who had been four days in the great hall of the Capitol, without a chairman and without order, trying, but trying in vain, to organize a House.  He rose, after having waited in silence till a crises seemed to be at hand – he rose – I seem to see him now – he rose, and, with his piercing eye, his slowly waving hand, and shrill voice, already enfeebled by age, he soon calmed the troubled elements, “and stilled the tumult of the people.”  The result is known.  But what the result of that party-strife would have been, without his influence, no one can tell.  It might have issued in a continued disorganized convention, or a complete dissolution of the government.

Mr. Adams, we may add, was a man of great decision of character, firmness of purpose, unflinching moral courage.  So prominent was this quality of his mind, that he was sometimes thought to be too unyielding, and even obstinate.  But time has generally shown, that what bitter enemies and timid friends called willfulness and self-sufficiency, was conscientious firmness – a determined adherence to what he viewed as right – that it was conscience and not self-will that held him to his purpose.  Witness his long contest and arduous struggle in Congress for the constitutional right of petition – a contest in which he sometimes stood almost alone; but one in which he never yielded, nor relaxed his efforts, till he carried his point, and convinced both friends and foes, that he was right, and that he had been conscientious in contending for the right.

It was this high quality of firmness and independence, of conscientious adherence to the decisions of his own judgment, which caused him, as I verily believe, so often to break off his connection with those who had claimed him as a partisan.  He was too conscientious and independent to be held in the trammels of party.  Of course, he has been claimed, at different times, as a member of the several political parties, which have existed in the country, but he was never completely identified with any.  Bred in the school of Federalism, he embraced and generally maintained its doctrines, during the administration of Washington and his father.  But, when an occasion occurred, where he thought the policy of the party wrong, he acted promptly on the other side of the question.  Believing, as he declared, that the rights of our oppressed seamen demanded stringent measures to bring the British government to regard the humane law of nations on the subject of impressments, he left the ranks of the opposition, and fell, of course, into the measures and the ranks of those who supported the administration.  He might have been wrong in his judgment; at the time I thought him wrong; and I am not yet convinced, that the unnatural war which followed the stringent measures of the Embargo of 1807, might not have been avoided, and thus much blood and treasure saved.  But he thought otherwise – honestly thought, as I now believe; and accordingly made the strong declaration, for which he has been often and severely censured: “Mr. President,” said he, addressing the presiding officer of the Senate of the United States – “Mr. President, I would not deliberate, I would act.”  I well remember the indignation which burst upon his head, from his former friends and his father’s friends.  Yes; I remember, when a grey-headed man pointedly reproached him in a public hall, where he could not, with propriety, vindicate his conduct; and I remember the meekness and firmness with which he bore the reproach.  The rebuke was certainly untimely; and the indignation, if, as is generally believed, he acted according to his judgment and conscience, was unjust.  Indeed, the language which preceded his vote for the Embargo, upon this supposition, was not rash; it was sublime; it was nobly said: “I would not deliberate, I would act.”

By this course he was brought, as I said, to sympathize and act with what was then called the Republican party; and with them he continued under Madison’s and Monroe’s administrations, till that old division of parties sunk into obscurity, and he was brought into the presidential chair.  But here he found many of his opinions so much at variance with the interests and prejudices of some with whom he was called to act, especially with regard to internal improvements, the regulation of a tariff, the proper treatment of the Indians, and the still more embarrassing subject of slavery, that the course of measures, which he felt himself compelled to recommend, deprived him of a second election to the presidential chair – an election which he might have secured, if he had been willing to sacrifice his judgment and his conscience, or resort to the power of perverted patronage and political proscription.

Finally, by this independent course he became the champion, and, for a time, the favorite of a new party, through whose influence he commenced his long and laborious career in the House of Representatives.  But to meet their wishes and sustain their proposed measures, he could proceed no farther than he felt himself at liberty to go, according to his views of the provisions of the Constitution, and the implied contract with the States of Virginia and Maryland, in the cession of the District of Columbia to the jurisdiction of the United States.  Here again some thought him self-sufficient on the one hand, or too scrupulous on the other.  But, whether right or wrong in judgment, he was honest and firm in purpose.  Thus has he been called to act, in the measures which he approved, with all parties; but he belonged exclusively to none.  Thus did he beautifully illustrate the character of decision, firmness, and moral courage, which constitutes a great man, acting as an independent republican.

One other general characteristic of his mind, or rather of his heart, I am constrained to mention: his susceptibility of emotion, his strong passions, his ardent feelings, his acute sensibility.  But strong as his passions were – and they were confessedly strong and easily excited, – they were always under the control of his will, and subject to the guidance of his reason.  In his highest sallies of indignant eloquence and withering sarcasm; in his most vehement retorts upon his antagonists in debate, he never said what he did not believe to be true; and seldom what he could not prove to be both true and just.  Under the most powerful provocations and the strongest excitement, his understanding remained undisturbed, his conceptions clear, his inexhaustible treasures of knowledge at command; and he never failed of vindicating the positions he had taken against the assailing powers of talent, and eloquence, and prejudice; and to the complete satisfaction of all enlightened, impartial observers.

“Always?” – “Never?” did I say?  Perhaps this language is too strong and sweeping.  He was a man; and it is human to err.  He may have made mistakes; he may have indulged unjust suspicions, and thrown out unkind insinuations.  Unquestionably he sometimes did.  But was he not always ready to explain, where he had been misapprehended?  To make reparation, where he had injured? To forgive, where forgiveness was asked? To be reconciled, where alienation had unhappily and inadvertently taken place?  Would time permit, I could state cases and relate anecdotes, which would furnish a favorable answer to these inquiries, and satisfy every candid mind.

He was, indeed, as we have said, a man of strong feelings and acute sensibility; and the wonder is, that his self-government was so nearly perfect as it was; that amidst all the storms of debate, through which, in high party times, he was called to pass, and under all the violent personal attacks of deliberately-formed conspiracy against him, he was able to control his feelings, so as to command the resources of his mighty mind and inexhaustible memory; so as to throw back upon his assailants the scorching and withering eloquence of truth, and reason, and indignant rebuke.

Yes, he was a man of feeling – of tender as well as strong feeling.  Often have I seen that feeling exhibited in his changing countenance, and even falling tears, under the preaching of the gospel of Christ, in view of the melting scenes of Calvary, and under the pressing influence of the doctrines which cluster around the cross.  Is it improper to say, (for I speak what I do know,) that he has been seen, as he sat in the Clerk’s seat, on the Sabbath, in one of the halls of Congress, with his eye turned to the preacher in the Speaker’s desk, melting into tears, while the doctrine of justification by faith and salvation by grace was exhibited and vindicated against Infidel objections; was presented, as a practical subject; “a doctrine according to godliness,” and applied to the heart and conscience?  This statement I make, not as showing his religious creed, for I know not what he believed on the subject; not even as proof of his being a Christian, (that proof belongs to another place.)  Besides, transient emotion is not the best evidence of religious principle.  But I mention the fact, merely as furnishing evidence of his sensibility – his susceptibility of tender emotion, in view of melting scenes of compassion; where justice is vindicated, while mercy is exercised; where love is exhibited, while integrity and truth are preserved; where grace is displayed, while righteousness is secured, and a holy moral government maintained; where, in a word, justice and mercy meet together, and righteousness and peace embrace each other.

Would time permit, I might here speak of his character for prudence, self-respect, industry, improvement of time, punctuality in business, early rising, exercise and general regimen; with his simplicity of  manners, of dress, of equipage, of everything, indeed, becoming a true republican in a well constituted republic.  For all these things were intimately connected with the development and efficient application of his intellectual powers, and his salutary influence in society.

I might too, speak of his private virtues, domestic relations, and moral character generally.  But my personal acquaintance with him was not sufficiently intimate to justify the attempt to do justice to these topics.  Besides, it seems uncalled for, and altogether unnecessary.  For here public sentiment, I believe, universally concurs with private friendship, in pronouncing his unqualified eulogy.  Here the tongue of slander is silent, and even the breath of calumny suppressed.

I might, moreover, speak more at large than I have incidentally done of his public services.  But they were performed in public view, and were subjected to public inspection.  They are recollected by some of my hearers; others have been told of them by their fathers; and they will soon become matters of history, and will unquestionably occupy some of the most brilliant and instructive pages of the history of liberty and our country.  Let it suffice, therefore, at this time, simply to say, – No man ever served his country longer,[viii] more faithfully, with higher motives and a purer patriotism; and history will, by and by, show with better and happier ultimate results.  Though party spirit has for a time counteracted some of his wise measures, and retarded the progress of improvement, it will not always retain its power; though it may, for the present, throw some obscurity over his political career, history will dissipate the darkness which surrounds it, and show it in all its brightness; will, especially, show, that the administration of the government, during his presidential term, was a model administration; among the most prudent and economical; free from the abuse of patronage, and the use of questionable power; consistent with the true spirit of the Constitution, and promotive of the cause of liberty and equal justice; – that, next to Washington, he has left the strongest impress of true republicanism on our institutions and the age.  History, I say, will do him justice.  Already, indeed, public opinion is returning to his rejected counsels, and preparing the way for the voice of history to be favorably heard.

But I forbear, and hasten to say a word on his crowning excellency; that which gave direction to his great talents, security to his high morals, utility to his arduous labors, and greatness to his whole character – I mean his religious principles.

Mr. Adams was a Christian; and a Christian, as has been beautifully said, “is the highest style of man.”  What were his particular views on many controverted points in theology, I am not informed. He did not intrude them on the public.  Indeed, I suppose though he was a close student of the Bible, he was not a technical theologian.  Some of his practical sentiments come out incidentally in his published writings, but not in technical language.  For example, in his second letter to his son, on the reading of the Bible, he says: “There are three points of doctrine, the belief of which form the foundation of all morality.  The first is the existence of God; the second is the immortality of the soul; and the third is a future state of rewards and punishments.  Suppose it possible,” he continues, “for a man to disbelieve either of these articles of faith, and that man will have no conscience; he will have no other law than that of the tiger or the shark.  The laws of man may bind him in chains or put him to death, but they can never make him wise, virtuous, or happy.”

In the autumn of 1840, Mr. Adams delivered two lectures in New York, on the subject of Faith, which, at the time, made a strong impression on the public mind, and are said to have done much in arresting the progress of Infidelity.  I find a synopsis of one of them in the New York Observer of November 28th, of that year, in the following words:

“1.  In the existence of one Omnipresent God, the Creator of all things.

2.  In the immortality of the soul, and man’s accountability to God for his conduct.

3.  In the divine mission of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

But I will not detain you with farther quotations.  He was a practical Christian; not a theorist; certainly not a sectarian.  He called himself a Bible Christian.  This blessed book he read much; and, in a course of letters to his son, written while he was in Russia, he recommends it as a Divine Revelation, to be read and studied daily, and to be made the rule of faith and practice.  To enforce on his son this earnest recommendation, he says: “I have myself, for many years, made it a practice to read through the Bible once every year.”  After speaking of the necessity of prayer “to Almighty God, for the aid of his Holy Spirit,” he adds: “My custom is to read four or five chapters every morning, immediately after rising from my bed.”  In this daily exercise, as he stated to a friend, he used the text of the original or versions in four other languages; always, however, making use of our common English translation as one of the copies.

He was, indeed, a Bible Christian; and his letters to his son show, with what confidence and strong faith he searched the Scriptures, and submitted to their authority.

He was, too, as I said, a practical Christian.  He early joined the church in his native village – a Congregational Church – formed in the days of our pilgrim fathers.[ix]  Here he continued to worship and attend on the ordinances of the gospel, whenever he visited that village.  At Washington, he always attended the stated service held in the Capitol in the morning, during the sessions of Congress.  In the afternoon, as there were no services in the Capitol, he attended at some church in the city.  He was, indeed, an example of punctuality and constancy, in attendance on the public worship and ordinances of God.  I am told, that he never failed, when in health, of attending on the religious services of Congress, during the winter of 1839 and 1840.  And had all the members of Congress been as constant, and punctual, and devout, as he was, I am confident, that a religious influence would have been diffused over the troubled elements of that stormy session.

Yes, he was a Bible Christian, I repeat; and a practical Christian.  And this fact gave the crowning excellence to his character, and rendered him truly “a great man.”

“Know ye not,” my hearers, that “a great man is fallen?”  The repetition of this inquiry brings us to the consideration of the closing scene of his life.  Let us contemplate it for a few moments, as it must have appeared to those who stood around him when he fell.  Truly it must have been a scene, not of excitement and solemnity merely, but of awful sublimity merely, and moral grandeur.  A great man fallen, at the close of a protracted period of public service, full of years, crowned with honors, still at his post of duty, with armor on, watching for his country’s good; surrounded by his compeers; having just given his last vote, and uttered his last emphatic No in the cause of liberty; – fallen and stinking submissively into the arms of death, and even announcing his departure from earth, in language of composure and peace of mind, is indeed a scene of great moral sublimity and beauty; may I not add, in view of his Christian character and Christian hopes, and the glory and immortality which awaited him, a scene of solemn joy?

I have often stood by the bed of dying Christians – Christians, dying in peace and hope; and sometimes in the triumph of faith, and even, like Stephen, in the ecstacies of anticipated life and immortality in the presence of their God and Redeemer.  And I have always viewed such scenes, not with sorrow, but with chastened joy.  Indeed, it is a blessed privilege to see a Christian die.  “For precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints:”

                                                The chamber, where the good man meets his fate,

                                                Is privileged beyond the common walks

                                                Of virtuous life – quite on the verge of heaven.

But when a great man dies, and dies in the midst of circumstances and coincidences which fill the mind with high thoughts and rich associations; which read lessons of wisdom, while they bring consolation to the living, the beauty of death swells into the sublime of immortality; the very soul of the pious spectator is lifted up, and he is ready to exclaim with Elisha, as he gazed on the ascending chariot of Elijah: “My father, my father; the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!”

Who that has faith – who that has hope, would not wish to die such a death?  “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!”

 

END. 


[i] The death of Mr. Adams was, indeed, sudden; and the circumstances attending it peculiarly impressive.  He had through life enjoyed almost uninterrupted health.  And by his attention to diet and regimen, early rising, regularity of exercise, careful appropriation of time, and complete system in the regulation of his business and various pursuits, he had been able to accomplish more labor than most men could endure; and to accomplish it with apparent ease and satisfaction.  A little more than a year before his death, he had a slight stroke of the palsy, which he viewed as the premonitory stroke of death, designed to bring his earthly labors to a close; and, we are told, he made a corresponding entry in his daily record of himself.  Still, as his energies of mind remained unimpaired, and as his bodily strength and activity soon returned, he was induced to resume his public duties, and take his seat in Congress.  And though he never recovered his full strength, he continued to discharge his public duties with his wonted faithfulness and punctuality; till, on Monday the 21st of February, 1848, as he sat in his seat in Congress, the same disease returned; and on Wednesday the 23d, closed his eventful life, at the ripe age of more than four-score years.

[ii] Delivered at Dudley, Mass., April 6th, 1848, being the day of the Annual Fast in this Commonwealth.

[iii] July 11, 1767.

[iv] It was stated by an intimate friend, that he continued, through life, to repeat, in connection with his evening devotions, a simple prayer, taught him by his mother.

[v] Leyden and Cambridge.

[vi] The French and German especially.

[vii] A collection of his miscellaneous publications, which, I hope, will soon be made, would furnish abundant proof of the accuracy of this general statement.

[viii] John Quincy Adams, the subject of this discourse, was born (as stated before) July 11th, 1767, in the village of Quincy, formerly a part of the town of Braintree.  His ancestors were among the first settlers of that part of Massachusetts.  He was the eldest son of John Adams – subsequently the second President of the United States, and Abigail (Smith) Adams, the daughter of a Congregational minister of Weymouth.

In the year 1778 – being then a lad of eleven years – he went to France with his father; and with him and at school pursued his studies as before; till, at the age of fourteen, in 1781, he proceeded to Russia, as private Secretary to Francis Dana, Minister to the Court of St. Petersburg.  Thence he returned to his father, in Holland, in 1783; and with him, as Minister to the Court of St. James, he went to England, where he acted as Private Secretary to his father, (at the same steadily pursuing his classical studies) till his return to America, where he finished his classical education; and was graduated at Harvard College in 1787.

His professional studies were pursued at Newburyport, in the office of Theophilus Parsons, subsequently Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts.

Mr. Adams commenced the practice of the law, at Boston, in 1790.  But he was soon called, by President Washington, in 1794, at the early age of twenty-seven, to assume the character of a public Minister at a foreign Court; and thus he commenced that career of public service which he pursued with little interruption to the end of life.

He continued in Europe, Resident Minister, at different Courts, till he was recalled by his father, at the close of his presidential term; and returned to America in 1801.

Almost immediately on his return, he was elected a member of the Senate of Massachusetts, and, in 1803, he was appointed a Senator of the United States.  This office he held till his resignation in 1808.  During a part of his Senatorial term, he had held the office of Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory in Harvard College.  To the duties of this office he devoted his undivided energies till 1809, when he was again called into public service, and appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Russia.  Subsequently he was called to act as one of the Commissioners in negotiating the peace of Ghent in 1815.  Hence, by appointment, he proceeded to England; and became the Resident Minister of the United States, at the Court of St. James.

In 1817, he was called home to act as Secretary of State.  This office he held for eight years, during both the terms of Mr. Munroe’s Presidency.  In 1825, he became President of the United States.  On the expiration of his presidential term, he retired to private life; till in 1831 he consented to enter Congress again, as a member of the House of Representatives.  And in this capacity, he continued to serve his country, with undiminished zeal and fidelity, till Feb. 7th, 1848; when, as stated before, he died, at the age of 80 years and 7 months.

[ix] A.D., 1639.

Eulogy – 1813, Massachusetts

Isaac Parker (1768-1830) Biography:

Born in Boston, Parker graduated from Harvard when 18. After teaching for many years, he began studying law. Admitted to the law profession in 1789, Parker relocated to Castine, Maine, and became its first lawyer. In 1796, he was elected to Congress as a Federalist and served one term. Leaving Congress, Parker served as a US Marshall from 1797-1801 under President John Adams. Five years later, he relocated to Portland (where he remained until his death) and became a judge on the Massachusetts Supreme Court. He taught law at Harvard for eleven years, was an overseer at Harvard, and a Trustee of Bowdoin College. In 1820, he served as president of the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention. Two of his famous orations that were published included his Oration on Washington and Sketch of the Character of Chief-Justice Parsons.

 


A

 

SKETCH

OF THE CHARACTER OF THE LATE

CHIEF JUSTICE PARSONS,

 

EXHIBITED IN

AN ADDRESS TO THE GRAND JURY,

DELIVERED

AT THE OPENING OF THE SUPREME JUDICIAL COURT

AT BOSTON,

ON THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF NOVEMBER, 1813.

AFTER THE

USUAL CHARGE.

 

PUBLISHED AT THE UNANIMOUS REQUEST OF

THE GRAND JURY AND THE BAR OF SUFFOLK.

 

BY ISAAC PARKER, ESQ.

ONE OF THE ASSOCIATE JUSTICES OF THAT COURT.

 

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY JOHN ELIOT, COURT STREET

1813.

INTRODUCTION.

 

            CHIEF JUSTICE PARSONS was born in February, 1750, and received the rudiments of his education under the celebrated Master Moody, at Dummer Academy, in his native parish of Byefield, within the ancient town of Newbury.  His father was minister of that parish.  He received the ordinary honours of the University in Cambridge in 1769.  He entered upon the study of the law under the late Judge Bradbury, in Falmouth, now Portland, and while there kept the Grammar School in that town.  He practiced law there a few years; but the conflagration of the town by the British obliged him to withdraw to his father’s house, where he met Judge Trowbridge, as stated in the address.  He, in about a year from this time, opened his office in Newburyport.  He has been honoured with degrees of Doctor of Laws, from the University of Cambridge and Dartmouth College, and from Brown University in Rhode Island.  In 1801, he was presented by President Adams with a commission of Attorney General of the United States, which he did not accept.  He had been also, by the choice of our state Legislature, one of the Commissioners to settle a controversy with the State of New York.  He continued faithful to his chosen profession, until he was appointed Chief Justice of the State, which was in the summer of 1806.

            While this Address was passing through the press, the following letter was received, and the testimony it contains cannot fail to gratify the publick.

Cambridge, 1 December, 1813.

            My Dear Sir,

                        SINCE I handed you the note containing the testimonial of Professor Luzac to our venerated friend’s rank, as a proficient in Greek learning, I have received a letter from my respected friend Vanderkemp, from which I extract the following.

            “We have then lost that ornament of the bench, that brilliant gem of your country.—The Giant of the Law, the polished Greek scholar, is gone. I knew him:  I had learned to revere him through my friend Luzac.  You introduced me to him, and he afterwards honoured me by visiting me three times at my lodgings in Boston.  For this I was indebted to my deceased Luzac, whom he respected.  I flattered myself that I should yet gather a rich harvest from his acquaintance; and he seemed inclined not to disappoint me “Make my compliments to Mrs. V.” these were his last words to me, “and tell her she ought to command you to return soon to Boston.”—Such a delicate compliment from a Parsons, was a treasure to an epicurean, in regard of praise.”

            The good man then indulges his hopes, in a strain of enthusiasm, that the excellent properties of our deceased luminary may excite the emulation of professors of the law who survive him, and of those who may hereafter arise.

            I am, dear Sir,

            Your most obliged servant,

            D. A. TYNG.

 

 

ADDRESS, &c.

 

Gentlemen of the Grand Jury,

                        At the first assembling of this Court in this place, after the death of that eminent man who has for some years been its head and ornament, our minds are naturally and forcibly led to a contemplation of those extraordinary qualities, which had secured to him an uncommon share of the veneration of his fellow-citizens.

            Eulogies upon the dead have become, in publick estimation, but equivocal evidence of their virtues and talents, and indiscriminate panegyrick conveys no honour to its subject and no benefit to survivors.

            But the illustrious dead—those who have brought signal reputation to their country, who have aided in rearing and supporting the edifice of state, whose learning has been devoted to general use, whose private virtues have afforded an example to the young—whose strength of mind and character has added to the dignity of man—these ought not to be forgotten.

            The stores of human wisdom could never be increased, did not such men speak, even though dead.  Their lives, and their actions, recorded with truth, are the voice of history speaking to successive generations, calling them to emulate what is great and noble, and shewing the practicability of almost infinite improvement in the capacities of the human mind.

            I shall not be accused of fulsome panegyrick, in asserting that the subject of this address has for more than thirty years been acknowledged the great man of his time.  The friends who have accompanied him through life, and witnessed the progress of his mind, want no proof of this assertion; but to those who have heard his fame, without knowing the materials of which it is composed, it may be useful to give such a display of his character as will prove, that the world is not always mistaken in awarding its honours.

            From the companions of his early years I have learned, that he was comparatively great, before he arrived at manhood; that his infancy was marked by mental labour and study, rather than by puerile amusements; that his youth was a season of persevering acquisition, instead of pleasure; and that, when he became a man, he seemed to possess the wisdom and experience of those who had been men long before him.  And, indeed, those of us, who have seen him lay open his vast stores of knowledge in later life, unaided by recent acquirement, and relying more upon memory than research, can account for his greatness only by supposing a patience of labour in youth, which almost exhausted the sources of information, and left him to act rather than study, at a period when others are but beginning to acquire.

            His familiar and critical knowledge of the Greek and Latin tongues, so well known to the literati of this country, and to some of the most eminent abroad, was the fruit of his early labours, preserved and perhaps ripened in mature years, but gathered in the spring time of his life (a) His philosophical and mathematical knowledge were of the same early harvest, as were also his logical and metaphysical powers.

            Had he died at the age of twenty-one, I am persuaded he would have been held up to youth, as an instance of astonishing and successful perseverance in the severest employments of the mind.

            Heaven, which gave him this spirit of industry, endowed him also with a genius to give it effect. 

            There were united in him an imagination vivid, but not visionary, a most discriminating judgment, the attentiveness and precision of the mathematician, and a memory, which, however enlarged and strengthened by exercise, must have been originally powerful and capacious.

            With these wonderful faculties, which had, from the first drawings of reason, been employed on subjects most interesting to the human mind, he came to the study of that science, which claims a kindred with every other—the science of the law.

            This was a field worthy of his labours and congenial with his understanding.  How successfully he explored, cultivated and adorned it, need not be related to his cotemporaries.

            Never was fame more early or more just, than that of Parsons as a lawyer.  At an age when most of the profession are but beginning to exhibit their talents and to take a fixed rank at the bar, he was confessedly, in point of profound legal knowledge, among the first of its professors.

            His professional services were everywhere sought for.  In his native county, and in the neighbouring state of New-Hampshire, scarcely a cause of importance was litigated in which he was not an advocate.  His fame had spread from the country to the capital, to which he was almost constantly called to take a share in trials of intricacy and interest.

            At that early period of his life, his most formidable rival and most frequent competitor was the accomplished lawyer and scholar, the late Judge Lowell, whose memory is still cherished with affection by the wise and virtuous of our state.  Judge Lowell was considerably his senior, but entertained the highest respect for the general talents and juridical skill of his able competitor.  It was the highest intellectual treat, to see these great men contending for victory in the judicial forum.  Lowell, with all the  ardour of the most impassioned eloquence, assaulting the hearts of his auditors, and seizing their understandings also, with the most cogent as well as the most plausible arguments.  Parsons, cool, steady and deliberate, occupying every post which was left uncovered, and throwing in his forces, wherever the zeal of his adversary had left an opening.  Notwithstanding this almost continual forensic warfare, they were warm personal friends, and freely acknowledged each other’s merits.

            The other eminent men of that day, with whom Parsons was brought to contend, did full justice to his great powers.  I have myself heard the late Governor Sullivan declare, he was the greatest lawyer living.

            So rapid and yet so sure was the growth of his reputation, that immediately upon his commencing the practice of the law, his office was considered, by some of the first men our state has produced, to be the most perfect school for legal instruction.

            That distinguished lawyer and statesman Rufus King, having finished his education at our university, at an age when he was qualified to choose his own instructor, placed himself under the tuition of Parsons; and probably it was owing in some measure to the wise lessons of the master, as well as to the great talents of the scholar, that the latter acquired a celebrity during the few years he remained at the bar, seldom attained in so short a professional career.

            Many others of our principal lawyers and statesmen are indebted to the same preceptor for their fundamental acquisitions in the science of jurisprudence and civil polity.

            I will not omit to mention, for I wish not to exaggerate his powers, that he enjoyed one advantage in his education beyond any of his cotemporaries, except the learned, able and upright Chief Justice Dana, whose long and useful administration in this court ought to be remembered with gratitude by his fellow citizens.  I refer to the society and conversation of Judge Trowbridge, perhaps the most profound common lawyer of New England before the revolution.  This venerable old man, like some of the ancient sages of the law in England, had pursued his legal disquisitions, long after he had ceased to be actively engaged in the profession, from an ardent attachment to the law as a science, and had employed himself in writing essays and forming elaborate readings upon abstruse and difficult points of law.

            Many of his works are now extant in manuscript, and some in print, and they abundantly prove the depth of his learning, and the diligence and patience of his research.

            When Parsons had retired to the house of his father, a respectable minister of Newbury, in consequence of the destruction of Falmouth by the British, he there met Judge Trowbridge, who had sought shelter from the confusion of the times in the same hospitable mansion.  How grateful must it have been to the learned sage, in the decline of life, fraught with the lore of more than a half century’s incessant and laborious study, to meet in a peaceful village, secure from the alarms of war, a scholar panting for instruction and capable of comprehending his profound and useful lessons; and how delightful to the scholar to find a teacher so fitted to pour instruction into his eager and grasping mind.  He regarded it as an uncommon blessing, and has frequently observed, that this early interruption to his business, which seemed to threaten poverty and misfortune, was one of the most useful and happy events of his life.

            His habit of looking deeply into the ancient books of the common law, and tracing back settled principles to original decisions, probably acquired under this fortunate and accidental tuition, was the principal source of his early and continued celebrity.

            He entered upon business also, after this connexion ceased, early in our revolutionary war, when the courts of admiralty jurisdiction were open and crowded with causes, in the management of which he had a large share.  This led him to study with diligence the civil law, law of nations, and the principles of belligerent and neutral rights, in all which he soon became as distinguished as he was for his knowledge of the common and statute law of the country.  Twenty-six years ago, when I with others of my age were pupils in the profession of the law, we saw our masters call this man into their councils, and yield implicit confidence to his opinions.  Among men eminent themselves, and by many years his seniors, we saw him by common consent take the lead in causes which required intricate investigation and deepness of research.

            In the art of special pleading, which more than anything tests the learning of a lawyer in his peculiar pursuit, he had then no competitor.

            In force of combination and power of reasoning he was unrivalled, and in the happy talent of penetrating through the mass of circumstances which sometimes surround and obscure a cause, I do not remember his equal.

            His arguments were directed to the understandings of men, seldom to their passions; and yet instances may be recollected, when, in causes which required it, he has assailed the hearts of his hearers with as powerful appeals as were ever exhibited in the cause of misfortune or humanity.  I do not disparage others by placing him at their head.  They were great men, he was a wonderful man.  Like the great moralist of England, he might be surrounded by men of genius, literature and science, and neither he nor they suffer by a comparison. Indeed, he seemed to form a class of intellect by himself, rather than a standard of comparison for others.

            Even his enemies, for it is the lot of all extraordinary men to have them, paid involuntary homage to his greatness; they designated him by an appellation which from its appropriateness became a just compliment, the Giant of the Law.

            I have spoken now of his early life only, before he was thirty five years of age, and yet it is known that common minds and even great minds do not arrive at maturity in this profession until a much later period.

            From this time for near twenty years I lived in a remote part of the state, and had no opportunity personally to witness his powers; but his fame pursued me even there.  He was regarded by those lawyers, with whom I have been conversant, as the living oracle of the law.  His transmitted opinions carried with them authority sufficient to settle controversies and terminate litigation.

            On my accession to the bench, I had an opportunity to see him in practice at the bar, when he possessed the accumulated wisdom and learning of fifty-six years. Though laboring under a valetudinarian system, his mind was vigorous and majestic.  His great talent was that of condensation.  He presented his propositions in regular and lucid order, drew his inferences with justness and precision, and enforced his arguments with a simplicity yet fullness which left nothing obscure or misunderstood.

            He seemed to have an intuitive perception of the cardinal points of a cause, upon which he poured out the whole treasures of his mind, while he rejected all minor facts and principles from his consideration.

            He was concise, energetic and resistless in his reasoning. The most complicated questions appeared in his hands the most easy of solution; and if there be such a thing as demonstration in argument, he, above all the men I know, had the power to produce it.

            With this fullness of learning and reputation, having had thirty five years of extensive practice in all branches of the law, and having indeed for the last ten years acted unofficially as judge in many of the most important mercantile disputes which occurred in this town, he was, on the resignation of Chief Justice Dana, selected by our present Governour to preside in this court. (b) This was the first, and I believe the only instance of a departure from the ordinary rule of succession; and, considering the character and talents of some who had been many years on the bench, perhaps no greater proof could be given of his pre-eminent legal endowments, than that this elevation should have been universally approved. Perhaps there never was a period when the regular succession would have been more generally acquiesced in as fit and proper, and yet the departure from it in this instance, was everywhere gratifying.

            That the man who, in England would, probably, by the mere force of his talents, without the aid of family interest, have arrived to the dignity of Lord Chancellor or Lord Chief Justice, should be placed at the head of so important a department, was considered a most favourable epoch in our juridical history. (c)

            The imperfect system of judicature, which had prevailed here until about that period, had rendered even great legal abilities inadequate to the establishment of a course of proceedings, and uniformity of decisions, so necessary to the safe and satisfactory administration of justice.  There had been no history of past transactions preserved by a reporter, the sage opinions and learned counsels of departed judges had been lost even from the memory, and precedents were sought for only in the books of a foreign country.  The most interesting points of law had been settled in the hurry and confusion of jury trials; and conflicting opinions of judges, arising from pressure of business and want of time to deliberate, were adjusted by that body which is supposed by the constitution and the laws to be competent to try the fact alone.

            But a new era had arisen; our system had been wisely assimilated to that of England, imperfectly it is true, but with great improvements upon the old.

            Its success depended much upon the character of those who were called to administer it.  There were men upon the bench qualified to illustrate its advantages, (I need not say to a candid auditory that I speak altogether of others,) yet the appointment of parsons was hailed by all, and especially by those who best understood our past difficulties, with the highest approbation.  His profound learning, long and uninterrupted employment in the country and in the capital, and especially his accurate knowledge of forms and practice peculiarly fitted him to take the lead in the new and improved order of things.  How fully publick expectation has been satisfied, I need not declare.  The reformed state of the dockets throughout the commonwealth, the promptness of decisions, the regularity of trials, attest the beneficial effects of a system, which he has done so much to render popular and permanent.

            If to some respectable and eminent men he at times appeared precipitate, in his nisi prius opinions, I am sure they will admit that he of all men had the most right to decide promptly, and that the rectitude of his decisions generally justified their apparent haste.

            On this subject I would also remark, that in the course of thirty-five years practice almost every subject of legal inquiry had passed in review before his mind; that his memory, the most distinguished of all his great faculties, retained everything he had ever read, and almost everything he had ever heard; and that, thus supplied with principles and precedents, it is not astonishing that great minds, should sometimes be surprised at the suddenness of his opinions, and should be inclined to impute to haste what was the effect of knowledge.  He appeared to have an instantaneous perception of the legal merits of a controversy, and to see the beginning, middle and end of a cause with one comprehensive glance.  I acknowledge myself among those who have sometimes imputed to precipitancy, what I have afterwards found to be the result of learning and memory.

            To have had a depository for the preservation of the learned efforts of so eminent a judge, must be considered fortunate for us and for posterity.  The six first volumes of the present series of reports will long endure, as a monument of the technical learning and deep juridical reasonings of the late chief justice.  The principles of the common law, relating to real estates, are there clearly and familiarly explained, and most of our important legislative acts have there received constructions consonant to their real, but often obscure, intent.  In these books will also be found many important mercantile cases, in which the principles of commercial and marine contracts have been discussed with remarkable clearness, and the law merchant has been fully and satisfactorily explained.  Had he been speared to us, as I had always hoped he would be, for a period of ten years of judicial life, the abundant stores of his knowledge would have been thus drawn out for publick use, and his fellow-labourers who survive, and their successors, perhaps for centuries, would have enjoyed the fruits of his studies and experience.  But more than two years ago it pleased Heaven to afflict him with a malady, which, though it left his mind unimpaired, rendered corporeal exercise, particularly that of writing, extremely irksome.  In this respect only was his usefulness diminished, but the consequence has been a loss to the publick of much of his learning and juridical wisdom.

            But he possessed other qualities of a judge, not exposed to the publick eye, but equally important with those which have been mentioned.  He was a patient and diligent inquirer after truth, revolving and revising his own opinions, until it was scarcely possible they should not be correct, communicating freely to his brethren his own reasonings, and candidly listening to theirs, suppressing all pride of opinion, and being ready to adopt another’s, instead of his own, if found more conformable to truth, and never being willing to give the sanction of the whole court to a principle, until it had been tested by every method which learning and ingenuity could devise.

            The remarkable coincidence of opinion, which appears in our reports, is not more a testimony of his power of enforcing his own, than of his candid estimation of that of others.  He was not an arrogant man; for, though he well knew his own powers, he also knew the fallability of all human power, and that no man is so sufficient of himself as to want no assistance from others.  The decisions of the court, with the reasons on which they were founded, when digested and committed to writing by him, were submitted to the consideration of his brethren, with a strong desire that they should be criticized and pruned, and he lent a willing ear to suggestions of alteration and improvement.

            Though fraught with all the technical learning of the bar, and accustomed to a strict adherence to rules in his own practice, he yet, like Lord Mansfield, was averse from suffering justice to be entangled in the net of forms; and he, therefore, exerted all his ingenuity to support by technical reasoning the principles of equity and right.

            In the administration of criminal law, however, he was strict, and almost punctilious, in adhering to forms.  He required of the publick prosecutors the most scrupulous exactness, believing it to be the right, even of the guilty, to be tried according to known and practiced rules; and that it was a less evil for a criminal to escape, than that the barriers established for the security of innocence should be overthrown.

            He was a humane judge, and adopted, in its fullest extent, the maxim of Lord Chief Justice Hale, that doubts should always be placed in the scale of mercy.

            I have thus attempted a sketch of the professional and judicial character of Chief Justice Parsons; but he was always a man belonging to the publick, and his political character requires some attention.  I abstain from any observations upon the political doctrines he uniformly espoused, so far as they relate to the administrations of our government, for I wish not to offend the feelings of some who are obliged to hear, and who, probably, differ from him, and from me, upon that subject.  I mean only to show what he has done, in order that you may not refuse to join me in ascribing to him the character of a statesman and a patriot.  He was always tenaciously attached to home, and unwilling to engage in scenes which drew him from it; so that it was difficult to prevail upon him to take so great a share in publick councils as his townsmen and the people of his county desired.

            But on great and solemn occasions, when the commonwealth was organizing, and when it was in jeopardy, he yielded to the impulse of patriotism and the solicitations of his neighbours, and gave his time and talents to the state.  Accordingly in 1779 he became a member of the convention which deliberated upon and formed the frame of state government, which has so happily continued, in spite of the many rude shocks it has received, to the present day. At a time when the people had freed themselves from a government which had become tyrannical, when they were held together as a body politick by a sense of danger rather than by the restraints of law, and when an enthusiastic love of liberty was universally felt, so that the rigours of a bad government would naturally excite jealousy of any which should be proposed, it was no easy task to introduce into the compact vigour enough to prolong its existence beyond the time of peril, which seemed to supersede the necessity of all government.

            There were great and amiable men in that convention, so enraptured with the view of order, discipline and regard to right, spontaneously existing without coercive power, that they in some measure lost sight of the lessons of history, and concluded that the people would always remain wise and virtuous, and that the most lax system of government for such a people was the best.  There were others equally attached to true liberty, but less ardent in their feelings, who believed, that man was in all ages, and in almost all places, the same; a being of many virtues and many vices, thoughtful and moderate in adversity, rash and presumptuous in prosperity, and at all times requiring the strong arm of government and law to repress his passions, and restrain his propensity to errour.

            In the latter class was Parsons; and he was indefatigable in his exertions to obtain as energetic a system as the people would bear, and to introduce into it those checks and balances which would ensure its durability.  I have the authority of contemporary statesmen for declaring, that, among these wise men and patriots, Parsons, at that time not thirty years old, discovered an intelligence, strength of mind, and force of reasoning, which gave him a decided influence in that venerable assembly.  Many of the most important articles of the constitution were of his draught, and those provisions which were most essential, though least palatable, such as dignity and power to the executive, independence to the judiciary, and a separation of the branches of the legislative department, were supported by him with all the power of argument and eloquence, which could be derived from deep historical information and wise reflections upon the nature and character of mankind.  Wherever he was placed, his influence was immediately felt, and his assiduity and patience of investigation, added to his ability to enforce his opinions, put him in the front rank in all arduous and anxious conflicts. (d)

            After this constitution had been adopted by the people, and had gone into operation, he appeared but seldom in the political assemblies of the state.  The ordinary business of legislation was not of importance enough in his mind to draw him from a profitable pursuit of his profession, which was necessary for the support and education of an increasing family.  Yet when the seeds of disorder sprang up in the community, and the most dangerous principles of disorganization had begun to spread, he was again prevailed upon to take a seat in the legislature, where his great political knowledge, and his peculiar address, contributed largely to the preservation of that constitution he had done so much to establish.

            But another great national revolution occurred.  The constitution of the United States was presented to the people for their approbation, and a convention of delegates from the several towns in this commonwealth was assembled to discuss its merits, and adopt or reject it.  This was the crisis of life or death to the union of the states, and ruin or prosperity hung upon the decision.  Parsons again appeared in the cause of order, law and government, the cause indeed of the people, though they did not recognize it; for no doubt was entertained that, at the first meeting of that convention, a great majority of its members were predetermined to reject the constitution.  I, then a young man, was an anxious spectator of these doings.  I heard there the captivating eloquence of Ames, the polished erudition of King, the ardent and pathetic appeals of Dana, the sagacious and conciliating remarks of Strong, and the arguments of other eminent men of that body.  But Parsons to me appeared the master spirit of that assembly.  Upon all sudden emergencies, and upon plausible and unexpected objections, he was the centinel to guard the patriot camp, and to prevent confusion from unexpected assault. He labored there in season and out of season, the whole energies of his mind being bent upon the successful issue of a question which was, he believed, to determine the fate of his country.  This finished his political engagements, except some few years in the legislature at subsequent periods, when his influence was visible, but the subjects which occurred only of ordinary import.

            But though he was only occasionally engaged as a member of the legislature, he yet was an active observer of publick measures, and without doubt contributed his councils in many of the arrangements which took place.  His political friends frequently sought his advice, and they always found him perfectly acquainted with passing events and ready to communicate his opinions.

            More has been imputed to him on the score of political influence than was true.  By those who felt the weight of his character, without enjoying his confidence, it was believed, or at least asserted, that he dictated most of the measures which his political friends adopted.  From seven years most intimate and confidential intercourse with him, I can testify, that his influence has not been exerted during that period in projecting publick measures, that it appeared only in giving advice when solicited for it, and that if his opinions were adopted, it was not from any authority claimed by him or submitted to by others, but because they were deemed wise and beneficial.

            He was undoubtedly a bold politician, and on any interesting crisis his system was to take the ground which he thought was right, and maintain it without regard to the difficulties to be encountered, and especially never to be deterred by fear of unpopularity.  This sometimes led even his friends to think that his political courage partook of temerity, and that he overlooked expediency in pursuit of right; but it not unfrequently happened, that the difference between them was owing to his greater share of political foresight, or to his instantaneous perception of what the times and circumstances required.

            In his political, as well as in his judicial character, there was an apparent suddenness of opinion, which at the moment seemed precipitancy, but which has in most instances been discovered to be the effect of a process of reasoning astonishingly rapid, or the immediate decision of judgment upon fact and principles stored in his memory and always ready for use.  Instances could be adduced, in which his friends have rejected his opinions, from a doubt of their correctness, and yet have been necessarily brought, by the course of events which he had the sagacity to foresee, to the very point from which they had prudently, as they thought, receded.

            I add, that I most sincerely believe that he had no private or personal views to gratify, and that his sole object was the permanent interest and prosperity of his country.

            You will spare me a few moments, while I briefly exhibit to you the private character of this distinguished man.  He was just, regular and punctual in all his transactions.  Simplicity and order presided over his household; hospitality, without ostentation or ceremony, reigned within his mansion.  Domestick tranquility and cheerfulness beamed from his countenance, and was reflected back upon him from his happy and delighted family.  It has been the misfortune of many, if not most of those, who have been devoted to literature, and who have attained great celebrity, to have been so much absorbed in grave contemplations as to acquire a distaste to those charities of life which are the sources of its happiness, or to become insensible to the ordinary excitements to recreation and pleasure.  It was not so with Parsons.  He was great even in common affairs.  His conversation could instruct or amuse, as times and seasons suited.  Neither philosophers nor children could leave his society without being improved or entertained.  Amid the multifarious occupations of his mind in business and scientific pursuits, he had still found room for all the lighter literature, and was ready with his critique even upon the ephemeral works of fancy and of taste.  The more solid productions of polite literature had passed the ordeal of his judgment, so that his materials for social converse were abundant, and his power of using them unlimited.  Indeed, his memory may be considered a capacious store house, separated into an infinite number of apartments, in which principles, facts and anecdotes were laid up according to their classes, marked and numbered, so that he could draw them out and appropriate them whenever occasion offered, without confusion or misapplication.  His conversation was illumined with flashes of wit and merriment, which captivated his hearers, and rendered him at the same time the most edifying and the most entertaining of companions.  He was accessible, familiar and communicative, never morose or ill-natured, a patron of literature and literary men, a warm friend to the clergy and to the institutions of religion and learning, and a most ardent admirer and promoter of merit among the young. (e)  He was not an avaricious man, for, after a long life of labour in a lucrative profession, with as much opportunity as was ever enjoyed to amass riches, he has left no greater estate, than is frequently accumulated by a prudent and respectable tradesman.

            The man whom he most resembled in powers of mind could be brilliant and astonishing, when surrounded by kindred spirits, and spurred on to intellectual conflicts; but when the tournament was over, he retired with exhausted spirits and debilitated mind, and sunk into the gloom of superstition and the horrours of self-condemnation.  But Parsons could leave the theological controversy, the mathematical problem, or the legal inquiry, and enter, at once, with spirit and interest into domestick conversation, and even into children’s sports.  When fatigued with the labour of deep legal research, or exhausted by a continued train of thought upon one subject, it was not uncommon for him to relax his mind with some abstruse arithmetical or geometrical demonstration, or to turn over the pages of some popular and interesting novel.  And, strange as it may seem, it is true, that, from his earliest years to the latter season of his life, these two sources of amusement were constantly enjoyed by him. (f)

            I know that I am in danger of being thought so infatuated with admiration, as to exaggerate his talents, or at least to give them too high a colouring.  But death has destroyed all motives for flattery, if any could have existed, and a month’s interval has given opportunity to reflect upon the folly of overstrained praise.  I confess, the more I contemplate his character, the more I revere it.  To some of its strongest points I consider myself a witness, and should disdain to pass beyond the limits of truth.  In relation to his professional and publick judicial character, I speak in the presence of men, who are witnesses as well as myself.  As to his classical and literary acquirements I profess not to judge, except from the testimony of those best qualified to decide.  I can appeal with confidence to the learned and reverend governours of our university, who for more than ten years have enjoyed the benefit of his counsels, and witnessed the depth of his learning.  For his mathematical and philosophical eminence, I could summon the chosen professors of those branches, and I could add to them the modest and scientific Bowditch. (g)  For his knowledge in astronomy, mechanicks, chemistry and electricity I would venture to call the most distinguished masters we have in those several branches, and I believe the testimony from each witness would be, that Parsons was great in each particular department.

            Should anyone ask, had this great man no faults, no foibles?  I answer, he had, for he was a man—but none which ought to enter into a candid estimation of his character.  I leave them to those who are hardy enough to violate the sanctity of the tomb for the purpose of magnifying and exposing them.

            That such a man as this, whose mind had never been at rest, and whose body had seldom been in exercise, should have lived to the age of sixty three, is rather a matter of astonishment, than that he should then have died.

            At this distance from the period of his death, when the first painful sensations at so great a loss have subsided, it is not unsuitable to take consolation from the possible, if not probable consequences of a prolonged life.  Beyond the age at which he had arrived, I do not know, that an instance exists of an improvement of the faculties of the mind, but many present themselves of deplorable decay, and humiliating debility.  An opposite example exists in the case of that venerable Judge Trowbridge, whom I have had occasion to mention before in this address.  The last twenty years of his life passed in almost entire forgetfulness of and by the world.  Should it not be considered a happy, rather than a lamentable event, to escape the infirmities, the disabilities, and perhaps the neglects of a protracted old age?  Parsons died in the zenith of his reputation, in the strength of his understanding; and so dying, has left a legacy to his children and to the publick, in his character, more valuable than exhaustless riches.

            The testimony he bore, too, to the truth of the Christian revelation should furnish a consolation for his death.  It was the testimony of a most exalted human intellect, unclouded by the apprehensions of death, and unobscured by superstition. It was declared repeatedly in the best state of his health, and confirmed in the serene contemplation of his expected change.  It was the result of a trial of witnesses, in which professional acuteness was aided by native powers of discrimination.  He has left written evidence of the conclusion his penetrating mind had formed upon this all interesting inquiry.  It may seem unbecoming in a Christian to place much reliance upon human authority for his hopes of immortality and happiness.  But a great portion of the world is governed by authority, and when some few great men have published their skepticism, and thus given confidence to the infidel of inferior understanding, it is comforting to the sincere and humble believer, to be able to add the name of Parsons to the long list of great and good men, who have given their living and dying testimony to the religion they profess. (h)

            May the life and celebrity of this great man stimulate the young to diligence and perseverance in their studies, so that, at some future time, one may rise up from among them fit to supply his place in publick estimation.

            May his pre-eminent qualifications for the judicial magistracy, which cannot be reached by his fellow labourers, incite them to greater zeal, labour and attention, so that the chasm made by his death may be the less observed.  And may his departure impress us all with solemn and suitable reflections upon the vanity of all human attainments, compared with that wisdom which cometh from above, whose ways are pleasantness, and whose end is everlasting life.

NOTES.

 

            (a)  The following facts were communicated to me by the Hon. D. A. Tyng.

            During the late visit of Fr. Ad. Vanderkemp, Esq. formerly of Leyden, but for many years past resident in the State of New York, I had the satisfaction of introducing him to our late excellent Chief Justice, and of witnessing a very interesting conversation between these two learned men on various topicks of literature.  After we left the Chief Justice’s house, Mr. V. said to me, that he had been much gratified with the interview, for which he had felt a strong desire, and particularly from a circumstance which he then related.

            Some years since Mr. V. received a letter from the late Mr. John Luzac, professor of the Greek language, &c. in the university of Leyden, who was the relative and intimate friend and correspondent of Mr. V. and confessedly the first Greek scholar of his day in Europe; in which letter Mr. Luzac inquired of Mr. Vanderkemp, whether he had made an acquaintance with a Mr. Parsons of Boston, of whom he had heard that he was called in America “the Giant of the law.”—How well Mr. Parsons might be entitled to this appellation, Mr. Luzac said he could not judge; but he could of his own knowledge affirm that he was “a giant in Greek Criticism.”

            Professor Luzac’s opinion was founded on a correspondence he held with the Chief Justice many years ago, occasioned by the latter sending to Amsterdam for some rare editions of Greek authors which could not be obtained then, either in this country or England.

            At College he was an excellent scholar in Greek and Latin.  But he began the study of Greek again after he was 40 years old, when his eldest son was fitting for college.

            (b)  So great was his reputation as a lawyer, that, upon his removal from Newburyport to Boston, it was customary for merchants of distinction, who had some unavoidable dispute, to make out a statement of the facts, and submit them to his decision, and in this way many important commercial questions have been settled, without incurring the expense or delay of a lawsuit.

            (c)  The assertion, that Chief Justice Parsons would probably have been made Lord Chancellor or Lord Chief Justice in England had he lived there, will probably be considered extravagant by those who are in the habit of magnifying objects in proportion to their distance.  But from a comparison of him with Lords Mansfield, Kenyon, Ellenborough, Eldon and Erskine, as they appear in books, and from the opinion of several gentlemen, who have seen most of those dignitaries in the exercise of their high functions, I have little doubt that such would have been his destiny, and none that he would have merited it.

            (d)  It is not generally known, that before this convention of the people by their delegates was called for the purpose of making a constitution, the existing government, which was exercised by a convention, in the year 1777, drew up the form of a constitution, and presented it to the people for their acceptance.  This appeared to some gentlemen in the county of Essex so loose and inefficient in its texture, that they urged a representation of their towns in a county convention, which accordingly met in 1778 at Ipswich.  Parsons was one of this convention.  They agreed to advise the towns to reject the constitution, which had been proposed.  A committee of this county convention was appointed to take into consideration the proposed constitution, and report thereon.  Parsons was upon this committee.  The report is undoubtedly his, though he was probably aided by others, at least with their advice.  This elaborate report is called the Essex Result; and it contains an able discussion of the principles of a free republic, and shows clearly the defects of the proffered form of government.

            The people rejected the constitution.  A convention was called for the express purpose of making another, which was finished and accepted by the people in 1780.

            (e)  The zealous attention of the Chief Justice to the interests of the college, while he was a member of the corporation, was generally known. But his care for the interests of literature was in other ways exemplified.  He had been for three years one of the supervisory committee of a Grammar School, kept by Mr. Clap in this town.  I have attended the examinations of the scholars, at all of which the Chief Justice was present.  He generally took the lead in the examination, and discovered such a critical knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages as surprised everybody.

            His presence was useful in other respects, for he so interested and amused the boys with anecdotes concerning the men and the times about which they were reading, as to render their examinations pleasant, instead of being formidable to them.

            (f)  Judge Tudor, who was a class-mate of the Chief Justice in college, and in the college phrase, his chum, has frequently told me, that after the usual exercises, Parsons was in the habit of taking his slate and amusing himself with some deep mathematical calculation, and that he would vary his recreation by reading some tale or novel—it seeming indifferent to him, which of these amusements first fell in his way.  I have, within the last seven years of his life, found him indulging the same propensity—finding him with his slate and pencil so deeply engaged, that I would not disturb his slate and pencil so deeply engaged, that I would not disturb him for some minutes after my entrance, and not unfrequently as deeply engaged in some modern novel, or other work of fancy.

            (g)  Mr. Bowditch, in his Practical Navigator, on the subject of Lunar Observations, speaking of a method of correcting the apparent distance of the moon from the sun, says, “it is an improvement on Witchell’s method, and was made in consequence of a suggestion from a gentleman eminently distinguished for his mathematical acquirements;” and by a note referred to in this passage, Chief Justice Parsons is the gentleman alluded to.  Mr. Bowditch also received some communications from him on the subject of the Comet, which last made its appearance in our hemisphere, which showed ingenuity and learning.

            (h)  About three months before the Chief Justice died, I had a conversation with him upon the subject of the Christian religion, and particularly upon the proofs of the resurrection contained in the New Testament.  He told me, that he felt the most perfect satisfaction on that subject; that he had once taken it up with a view to ascertain the weight of the evidence by comparing the accounts given by the four evangelists with each other; and that from their agreement in all substantial and important facts, as well as their disagreement in minor circumstances—considering them all as separate and independent witnesses, giving their testimony at different periods, he believed that the evidence would be considered perfect, if the question was tried at any human tribunal.  I then did not know that he had made a publick profession of his belief by becoming a member of any church, and I asked him why he had not thus testified his belief.  He told me that he had postponed it a great while, because, as the general state of his health, and his fear of exposing himself to the cold and damp air would prevent him from attending publick worship constantly, and as from those causes, he might frequently be absent on communion days, he was apprehensive he might be thought not to act up to his profession; but that two or three years ago, he had made up his mind to do his duty in joining the church, and as much of his duty as he could in attending upon the ordinance—and he accordingly joined the church of which President Kirkland was then the pastor.

            A similar conversation was held by him with the Rev. Mr. Thacher during his late sickness, through the whole of which he evinced a patience and resignation, which, considering his extreme nervous irritability and apprehensions of disease, when in his best state of health, can be accounted for only by the enlightened and satisfactory hopes he entertained of a happy immorality.  It ought to be highly consolatory to his friends to know, that he whom they had seen to shrink at an eastern breeze, and to start at the slightest pain, should, at the certain approach of the king of terrours, collect all the energies of his wonderful mind, and contemplate his approaching dissolution with as much steadiness and composure, as he would many of the ordinary events of life.

END.

Sermon – Fasting – 1825, Massachusetts

Francis Wayland (1976-1865) graduated from Union College in 1813. He served as President of Brown University (1827-1855), where he also taught psychology, political economy, and ethics. These sermons were delivered on April 7, 1825.

 

THE DUTIES OF AN AMERICAN CITIZEN.

 

TWO DISCOURSES,

DELIVERED IN THE

 

First Baptist Meeting House in Boston,

On Thursday, April 7, 1825.

 

THE

 

DAY OF PUBLIC FAST

 

By FRANCIS WAYLAND, JUN.

PASTOR OF THE FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH IN BOSTON. 

Published by request of the Society.

 

BOSTON:

JAMES LORING, WASHINGTON ST.

1825.

 

 

SERMON I.

 

LUKE XXI. 25.

AND THERE SHALL BE UPON THE EARTH, DISTRESS OF NATIONS WITH PERPLEXITY.

 

            The season has arrived, my brethren, when in conformity with the usages of our forefathers, we are assembled to supplicate the blessing of God on the labours of the advancing year.  Custom has permitted that on such occasions, the minister of religion, digressing somewhat from the path of his ordinary duty, should exhibit to his hearers, some truths not expressly revealed in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  He is allowed to select a subject, which may be rather of national interest, and is commanded to abstain only from such discussion, as would enkindle those feelings of party animosity, to which a free people, in the present imperfect condition of human nature, must always be liable.

            If, then, I should on this day direct your attention to a subject somewhat unlike those which you are accustomed to hear from this sacred place, I trust the example of wiser and better men will plead for me an apology.

            But I find in the occasion that has called us together, an apology, with which I must confess myself far better satisfied.  We have come here as citizens of the United States, to implore the blessing of God upon our common country.  At such a time, it cannot be unsuitable to inquire, how may the interests of that country be promoted?  The destinies of this, are intimately connected with those of other nations, and it surely becomes us to ascertain the duties which that connection imposes upon us.  I remember that on every question decided in this community, each one of you has an influence.  I am addressing an assembly, whose voice is heard through the medium of its representatives, not only in our halls of legislation, and in our cabinet, but throughout the legislatures and the cabinets of the civilized world.  In the attempt, then, to enlighten you upon any of those great questions, on which the well-being of our country, as well as other countries, is virtually interested, I seem to myself to be discharging a duty not improperly devolving upon a profession, which is expected to watch with sedulous anxiety, every change that can have a bearing upon the moral or religious interests of a community.  Impressed with these considerations, I shall proceed to offer you some reflections, on what appears to be the present intellectual and political condition of the nations of Europe; the relations we sustain to them; and the duties which devolve upon us, in the consequence of those relations.

            I shall this morning direct your attention to some reflections upon THE PRESENT INTELLECTUAL AND POLITICAL CONDITION OF THE NATIONS OF EUROPE.

                You are doubtless aware, that society throughout Christendom, has been undergoing very striking alterations since the era of the Reformation, and the invention of the printing press.  The effects of this new impulse, which was then given to the human mind, have been every where visible.  The attempt to delineate it would require a volume, instead of a paragraph.  It will only be possible here to state, that it has been produced by the more universal diffusion of the means of information; it has been characterized by more unrestrained liberty of thinking; and has every where resulted in elevating the rank, and improving the condition, of what are generally denominated the lower classes of society.

            But it must be obvious to all of you, ht especially within the last fifty years, the intellectual character of the middling and lower classes of society throughout the civilized world has materially improved, and that the process of improvement is at present going forward with accelerated rapidity.  A taste for that sort of reading, which requires considerable reflection, and even some acquaintance with the abstract sciences, is every day becoming more widely disseminated.  And not only is the number of news papers multiplying beyond any former precedent, but it is found necessary to enlist in their service a far greater portion of literary talent than at any other period.[i]

            For this increase of the reading and thinking population of Europe at this particular time, many causes may be assigned.  It is owing, in part, to that slow but certain progress, which the human mind always makes after it has once commenced the career of improvement.  It may also have been considerably accelerated by the various wars, which have of late so frequently desolated the continent.  The momentous events to which every campaign gave birth, have quickened the desire of intelligence in every class of society, and taught men more or less to reflect upon the principles which led to so universal commotions.  And besides this, the range of information among those attached to the army must have been materially enlarged by visiting other countries, and becoming in a considerable degree acquainted with their inhabitants, and familiar with their institutions.

            And her truth obliges us to state, that this melioration owes much of its late advancement to the pious zeal of Protestant Christians.  Desirous to extend the means of salvation to the whole human race, these benevolent men have labored with perseverance and success, not only to circulate the Bible, but to enable men to read it.  Hence have arisen the British and Foreign Bible Society, the British and Foreign School Society, the Baptist Irish Society, the multiplied free schools, and the innumerable Sabbath schools, which are so peculiarly the glory of the present age of the church.  And surely it is delightful to witness the disciples of Him, who went about doing good, thus girding themselves to the work of redeeming their fellow men from ignorance and sin.  O it is a goodly thing to behold the rich man pouring forth from his abundance, and the poor man casting in his mite; the old man directing by counsel, and the young man seconding him by exertion; the matron visiting the prison, and the young woman instructing the Sabbath school; and all pledging themselves, each one to the other, that, God helping them, this world shall be the better for their having lived in it.  The effects of these exertions are every year becoming more distinctly visible.  In a short time, if the church is faithful to herself, and faithful to her God, what are now called the lower classes of society will cease to exist; men and women will be reading and thinking beings; and the word canaille, will no longer be applied to any portion of the human race within the limits of civilization.

            In connection with these facts, we would remark, that in consequence of this general diffusion of intelligence, nations are becoming vastly better acquainted with the physical, moral and political conditions of each other.  Whatever of any moment is transacted in the legislative assemblies of one country, is now very soon known, not merely to the rulers, but also to the people of every other country.  Nay, an interesting occurrence of any nature cannot transpire in an insignificant town of Europe or America, without finding its way, through the medium of the daily journals, to the eyes and ears of all Christendom.  Every man must now be, in a considerable degree, a spectator of the doings of the world, or he is soon very far in the rear of the intelligence of the day.  Indeed, he has only to read a respectable newspaper, and he may be informed of the discoveries in the arts, the discussions in the senates, and the bearings of public opinion all over the world.

            The reasons for all this, as we have intimated, may chiefly be found in that increased desire of information, which characterizes the mass of society in the present age.  Intelligence of every kind, and specially political information, has become an article of profit; and when once this is the case, there can be no doubt that it will be abundantly supplied.  Besides this, it is important to remark, that the art of navigation has been within a few years materially improved, and commercial relations have become vastly more extensive.  The establishment of packet ships between the two continents has brought London and Paris as near to us as Pittsburgh and New-Orleans.  There is every reason to believe, that within the next half century, steam navigation will render the communication between the ports of Europe and America as frequent, and almost as regular, as that by ordinary mails.  The commercial houses of every nation are establishing their agencies in the principle cities of every other nation, and thus binding together the people by every tie of interest; while at the same time they are furnishing innumerable channels, by which information may be circulated among every class of the community.

            Hence it is that the moral influence, which nations are exerting upon each other, is greater than it has been at any antecedent period in the history of the world.  The institutions of one country, are becoming known almost of necessity to every other country.  Knowledge provokes to comparison, and comparison leads to reflection.  The fact that others are happier than themselves, prompts men to inquire whence this difference proceeds, and how their own melioration may be accomplished.  By simply looking upon a free people, an oppressed people instinctively feel that they have inalienable rights; and they will never afterwards be at rest, until the enjoyment of these rights is guaranteed to them.  Thus one form of government, which in any pre-eminent degree promotes the happiness of man, is gradually but irresistibly disseminating the principles of its constitution, and from the very fact of its existence, calling into being those trans of thought, which must in the end revolutionize every government within the sphere of its influence, under which the people are oppressed.

            And thus is it that the field in which mind may labour, has now become wide as the limits of civilization.  A doctrine advanced by one man, if it have any claim to interest, is soon known to every other man.  The movement of one intellect, now sets in motion the intellects of millions.  We may now calculate upon effects not upon a state or a people, but upon the melting, amalgamating mass of human nature.  Man is now the instrument which genius wields at its will; it touches a chord of the human heart, and nations vibrate in unison.  And thus he who can rivet the attention of a community upon an elementary principle hitherto neglected in politics or morals, or who can bring an acknowledged principle to bear upon an existing abuse, may, by his own intellectual might, with only the assistance of the press, transform the institutions of an empire or a world.

            In many respects, the nations of Christendom collectively are becoming somewhat analogous to our own Federal Republic.  Antiquated distinctions are breaking away, and local animosities are subsiding.  The common people of different countries are knowing each other better, esteeming each other by various manifestations of reciprocal good will.  It is true, every nation has still its separate boundaries and its individual interests; but the freedom of commercial intercourse is allowing those interests to adjust themselves to each other, and thus rendering the causes of collision of vastly less frequent occurrence.  Local questions are becoming of less, and general questions of greater importance.  Thanks be to God, men have at last begun to understand the rights, and feel for the wrongs of each other.  Mountains interposed do not so much make enemies of nations.  Let the trumpet of alarm be sounded, and its notes are now heard by every nation whether of Europe or America.  Let a voice borne on the feeblest breeze tell that the rights of man are in danger, and it floats over valley and mountain, across continent and ocean, until it has vibrated on the ear of the remotest dweller in Christendom.  Let the arm of oppression be raised to crush the feeblest nation on earth, and there will be heard every where, if not the shout of defiance, at least the deep-toned murmur of implacable displeasure.  It is the cry of aggrieved, insulted, much-abused man.  It is human nature waking in her might from the slumber of ages, shaking herself from the dust of antiquated institutions, girding herself for the combat, and going forth conquering and to conquer; and woe unto the man, woe unto the dynasty, woe unto the party, and woe unto the policy, on whom shall fall the scath of her blighting indignation.

            Now it must be evident, that this progress in intellectual cultivation must be operating important changes in the political condition of the nations of Europe.  This moral power has been applied almost exclusively to one portion of the social mass.  The rulers remain very much as they were half a century ago; but the people have advanced with a rapidity, of which the former history of the world furnishes us with no similar example.  The relations which once subsisted between the parties having changed, the institutions of society must change with them.  A form of government to be stable, must be adapted to the intellectual and moral condition of the governed; and when from any cause it has ceased to be so adapted, the time has come when it must inevitably be modified or subverted.  These remarks seem to us to apply with special force to the present condition of many of the nations of Europe.  I will proceed then, and remark some of the changes which this progress in intellectual improvement is effecting in their political condition.

            II.  We shall commence this part of our subject by remarking, that the various forms of government under which society has existed may, with sufficient accuracy, be reduced to two; governments of will, and governments of law.

            A government of will supposes that there are created two classes of society, the rulers and the ruled, each possessed of different and very dissimilar rights.  It supposes all power to be vested by divine appointment in the hands of the rulers; that they alone may say under what form of governments the people shall live; that law is nothing other than an expression of their will; and that it is the ordinance of Heaven that such a constitution should continue unchanged to the remotest generations; and that to all this, the people are bound to yield passive and implicit obedience.  Thus say the Congress of Sovereigns, which has been styled the Holy Alliance:  “All useful and necessary changes ought only to emanate from the free will and intelligent conviction of those, whom God has made responsible for power.”  You are well aware, that on principles such as these rest most of the governments of continental Europe.

            The government of law rests upon principles precisely the reverse of all this.  It supposes that there is but one class of society, and that this class is the people; that all men are created equal, and therefore that civil institutions are voluntary associations, of which the sole object should be to promote the happiness of the whole.  It supposes the people to have a perfect right to select that form of government under which they shall live, and to modify it at any subsequent time, as they shall think desirable.  Supposing all power to emanate from the people, it considers the authority of rulers purely a delegated authority, to be exercised in all cases according to a written code, which code is nothing more than an authentic expression of the people’s will.  It teaches that the ruler is nothing more than the intelligent organ of enlightened public opinion, and declares that if he ceases to be so, he shall be a ruler no longer.  Under such a government may it with truth be said of law, that “her seat is the bosom” of the people, “her voice the harmony” of society; “all men in every station do her reverence; the very least as feeling her care, and the very greatest as not exempted from her power; and though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy.”  I need not add, that our own is an illustrious example of the government of law.

            Now which of these two is the right notion of government, I need to stay to inquire.  It is sufficient for my purpose to remark, that whenever men have become enlightened by the general diffusion of intelligence, they have universally preferred the government of law.  The doctrines of what is called legitimacy, have not been found to stand the scrutiny of unrestrained examination.  And besides this, the love of power is as inseparable from the human bosom as the love of life.  Hence men will never rest satisfied with any civil institutions, which confer exclusively upon a part of society, that power which they believe should justly be vested in the whole; and hence it is evident that no government can be secure from the effects of increasing intelligence, which is not conformed in its principles to the nature of the human heart, and which does not provide for the exercise of this principle, so inseparable from the nature of man.

            We see then that the people under arbitrary governments, whenever they have become enlightened, must begin to desire some change in the existing institutions.  On the contrary, it is not unreasonable to suppose, that to such change the rulers would everywhere be opposed.  Instances have been rare in the history of man, in which the possessor of power, has surrendered it to anything but physical force.  The rulers everywhere will, to the utmost of their ability, maintain the existing institutions.  This is not conjecture.  The Holy Alliance has declared its determination to bring its whole power to bear upon any point, from which there was reason to fear the love of change, or in other words the love of liberty, would be disseminated.  They have announced that “the powers have an undoubted right to assume an hostile attitude, in relation to those States in which the overthrow of governments may operate as an example.”

            You perceive then, that if the people in Europe have become dissatisfied with the government of will, and if the rulers have determined to support it, the present progress of intelligence must be rapidly dividing the whole community into two great classes.  The one is composed of the monarchy, the aristocracy and the army, and in general of all those whose wealth, whose rank, or whose influence depend on the continuance of the existing system.  The other is composed of the middling and lower classes of society, of the men who understand the nature of liberal institutions, and those who are groaning under the weight of civil and religious oppression.  The question at issue is, whether a nation shall be governed by men of its choice, or by men whose only title to rule is derived from hereditary descent; whether laws shall be made for the benefit of the whole or a part; and whether they shall be the expression of a monarch’s will, or the unbiased decisions of an enlightened community.  It is a question between precedent and right; between old notions and new ones; between rulers and ruled; between governments and people.  It has already agitated Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, Germany, Prussia, and South America.  Hence you see that the parties formed in those nations have all taken their names from their attachments to one or the other of these notions of government.  Hence we hear of constitutionalists and royalists, of liberals and anti-liberals, of legitimates and reformers.  It is in a word the same question, though modified by circumstances, which wrought out the revolution under Charles I., and in which the best blood of this country was shed at Lexington and at Bunker-Hill, at Saratoga, and at Yorktown.

            But we cannot pass from this subject without remarking another fact, which renders the present state of Europe doubly interesting to every friend of the religion of Jesus Christ.  You are well aware that what is called Christianity is at the present day exhibited to the world under two very different forms.  The one supposes man amenable to no created being for his religious opinions, and that provided he do not disturb the peace of society, he is perfectly at liberty to worship God after the dictates of his own conscience.  It supposes, moreover, the Bible to be a sufficient and the only rule of faith and practice; a book of ultimate facts in morals, which is to be put in the hands of everyone, which everyone is at liberty to interpret for himself, and that with his interpretation neither any man nor body of men has any right to interfere.  The other form, which also professes to be Christianity, supposes, on the contrary, that religious opinion must be subject to the will of man; and that for disbelieving the religion of the State, the citizen is justly liable to fine, disfranchisement, imprisonment, and death.  It denies to man to right of reading the scriptures, and substitutes in their place monkish legends of fabulous miracles.  It stamps the traditions and the decisions of men with the authority of a revelation from heaven, and thus places conscience, by far the strongest of those principles which agitate the human bosom and direct the human conduct, entirely within the control of ambitious statesmen and avaricious priests.  You perceive I have alluded to the Protestant and Catholic forms of Christianity, as they generally exist on the continent of Europe.

            These systems, as you must be convinced, depend upon principles very different the one from the other.  The one pleads for the universal circulation of the scriptures; the other, from its highest authority, forbids it.  The one labours for the improvement of the lower classes of society, and lives and moves and has its being in the atmosphere of religious liberty; the other has never been able to retain its influence over the mind any longer than whilst enforcing its doctrines by relentless persecution.  And hence are the scriptures supposed to have designated this church by that awful appellation, “drunk with the blood of the saints.” Here then we see that the adherents of these two systems must be at issue on that question, of all others dearest to man, the question of liberty of conscience.

            But it is here of importance to observe, how nearly the line which is drawn in this division coincides with the other on the question of civil liberty, of which we have just spoken.  The government of will has never been able to support itself without an alliance with the ecclesiastical power.  Having no hold upon the understanding or upon the affections of man, it must control his conscience or it could not be upheld.  And on the contrary, the Catholic religion cannot carry its principles into practice without the assistance of the civil arm.  The State needs the anathema of the Church to check the spirit of inquiry, and the Church needs the physical power of the State, to silence by force when it cannot convince by argument.  These systems are, as you see, the natural allies of each other; and hence in fact have they always been found very closely united.  Hence is it that we behold at present among the sovereigns of the Holy Alliance, so evident an attempt to re-establish the influence of the papal see; and hence, to use the language of the Christian Observer,[ii] do we perceive throughout Europe the mournful advances of that superstitious and persecuting church, whose much abused power we had hoped was crumbling to decay.”

            And on the contrary, it is equally evident, that popular institutions are inseparably connected with Prostestant Christianity.  Both rest upon the same fundamental principle, the absolute freedom of inquiry.  Neither accepts of any support not derived from the suffrages of a free, intelligent, and virtuous community.  Though each is perfectly independent, yet neither could long exist without giving birth to the other.  And here, were it necessary, it would not be difficult to show that the doctrines of Protestant Christianity are the sure, nay, the only bulwark of civil freedom.  A survey of the history of Europe since the era of the Reformation would teach us, that man has never correctly understood nor successfully asserted his rights, until he has learned them from the Bible; and still more, that those nations have always enjoyed the most perfect freedom, who have been most thoroughly imbued with the doctrines of Jesus Christ.  But a discussion of this sort would lead us too far from the range of this discourse.  Enough has, we trust, been said to convince you, that the very existence of Protestantism in Europe, is at stake on the issue of the question, which appears so soon about to agitate that continent.

            And hence if the human mind only continues to advance with its present ratio of improvement, a general division of the people in Christendom seems inevitable.  The questions at issue are the most momentous that can be presented, and the most active principles of the human heart must oblige every man to rank himself on the one side or the other.  It is the question, whether man shall surrender up into the hands of other men those rights, which he holds immediately from God; whether, in fact, he shall bow to nothing but law, or tremble at the frown of a despot.  It is whether the human mind shall advance steadily onward in the career of improvement,  or whether it shall lose all that it has gained, and sink back again into the gloom of monkish superstition.  On the issue of this controversy depends the question, whether the light of divine revelation shall shine far and wide over our benighted world, pointing out to our fellow men the path to everlasting life; or whether that light shall be extinguished, and the generations which follow, the prey to a designing priesthood, shall be led in ignorance to everlasting woe.

            Such seem to us to be some of the circumstances attending the present political condition of Europe.  That two parties are forming in every country, you have abundant evidence; it is equally evident that the question on which they are divided is of the utmost magnitude; and that it is in every nation substantially the same.

            In concluding, it may be worth our while to remark very briefly, the condition and the prospects of these two opposite parties.

            1.  As to their present state, we may observe, that the one has enlisted the greatest numbers, while the other wields the most effective force.  The one comprises the lower and middling classes of society, which are of course by far the most numerous, and the other the rulers, and their immediate dependents.  The physical power of any nation always resides with the governed, and it is the governed who are the friends of free institutions.  But it is to be remarked, that the millions who desire reform are scattered abroad over immense tracts of country, each one by his own fireside, without concert, and destitute of the means for organized operation; on the contrary, the force of the rulers is always collected, and can at any moment be brought to bear upon any portion of territory, in which there might appear the least movement towards revolution.

            But the friends of popular institutions are opposed, in every nation, by more than the force of their own rulers.  Whilst they are powerful only at home, the rulers are able to bring all their forces to bear upon a single point in any part of the civilized world.  To accomplish this purpose, seems the principal design of the Holy Alliance; and hence they have pledged the physical force of the whole to each other, whenever the question shall be agitated in any country, on which depends the rights of the people.

            2.  If we compare their prospects, we shall find that the power of the popular party is increasing with amazing rapidity.  Nations are already flocking to its standard.  Fifty years ago and it could be hardly said to exist, only as the voice of indignant freemen was heard in yonder hall, the far famed “cradle of liberty.”  From that moment, its progress has been right onward.  A continent has since declared itself free.  In the old world, the principles of liberty are becoming more universally received, more thoroughly understood, and more ably supported.  Education is becoming every day more widely disseminated; and every man, as he learns to think, ranks himself with the friends of intellectual improvement.  The trains of thought are already at work, which must operate important modifications in the social edifice, or that edifice, undermined from its foundations, must crumble into ruin.

            And thus from these very causes, the other party is rapidly declining.  Nations are leaving it.  The people are loathing it.  It cannot ultimately succeed, until it has changed the ordinances of heaven.  It cannot prosper, unless it can check that tendency to improvement, with which God endowed man at the first moment of his creation.  Every report of oppression weakens it.  Every Sabbath School, every Bible Society, nay, every mode of circulating knowledge weakens it.  And thus, unless by some combined and convulsive effort it should for a little while recover its power, it may almost be expected that within the present age it will fall before the resistless march of public opinion, and give place everywhere to governments of law.

 

 

 

SERMON II.

 

 

PSALM LXVII. 1, 2.

GOD BE MERCIFUL UNTO US, AND BLESS US, AND CAUSE HIS FACE TO SHINE UPON US; THAT THY WAY MAY BE KNOWN UPON EARTH, THY SAVING HEALTH AMONG ALL NATIONS.

 

          Pursuing the train of thought which was commenced this morning, I shall proceed to consider the relation which this country sustains to the nations of Europe, and some of the duties which devolve upon us in consequence of this relation.

            I.  Let us consider the relation which this country sustains to the nations of Europe.  Here we shall observe in the first place, that this country is evidently at the head of the popular party throughout the civilized world.  The statement of a few facts will render this remark sufficiently evident.

            1.  This nation owes its existence to a love of those very principles for which the friends of liberty are now contending.  Rather than bow to oppression, civil or ecclesiastical, our fathers fled to a land of savages, determined to clear away in an inhospitable wilderness, one spot on the face of the earth where man might be free.  Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem.

            2.  This nation first proclaimed these principles, as the only proper basis of a constitution of government.  Here was it first declared by a legislative assembly:  “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.”

            3.  This nation first contended for those principles with perfect success.  In other countries, attempts had been made to re-model the institutions of government.  But in some cases, the attempt was arrested in its outset by overwhelming force; in others, the first movement had been succeeded by anarchy; anarchy gave place to military despotism, and this at last yielded to a restoration of the former dynasty.  In our country first was the contest commenced in simplicity of heart, for the rights of man; and when these were secured, here alone did the contest cease.  Since our revolution, other nations have followed our example, and many more are preparing to follow it.  But when the most glorious success shall have attended their struggle for liberty, they are but our imitators; and the greatest praise of any subsequent revolution must be that it has resembled our own.  Our heroic struggle, its perfect success, its virtuous termination, have riveted the eyes of the people of Europe specially upon us, and they cannot now be averted.  To us do they look when they would see what man can do; and while sighing under their oppressions, yet hope to be free.

            4.  And lastly, our country has given to the world the first ocular demonstration, not only of the practicability, but also of the unrivalled superiority of a popular form of government.  It was not long since fashionable to ridicule the idea, that a people could govern themselves.  The science of rulers was supposed to consist in keeping the people in ignorance, in restraining them by force, and amusing them by shows.  The people were treated like a ferocious monster, whose keepers could only be secure while its dungeon was dark, and its chain massive.  But the example of our own country is rapidly consigning these notions to merited desuetude.  It is teaching the world that the easiest method of governing an intelligent people is, to allow them to govern themselves.  It is demonstrating that the people, so far from being the enemies, are the best, nay, the natural friends of wholesome institutions.  It is showing that kings, and nobles, and standing armies, and religious establishments, are at best only very useless appendages to a form of government.  It is showing to the world that every right an be perfectly protected, under rulers elected by the people; that  government can be stable with no other support than the affections of its citizens; that a people can be virtuous without an established religion; and more than this, that just such a government as it was predicted could no where exist but in the brain of a benevolent enthusiast, has actually existed for half a century, acquiring strength and compactness and solidity with every year’s duration.  And it is manifest that nowhere else have been so free, so happy, so enlightened, or so enterprising, and nowhere have the legitimate objects of civil institutions been so triumphantly attained.  Against facts such as these it is difficult to argue; and you see they furnish the friends of free institutions with more than an answer to all the theories of legitimacy.

            It is unnecessary to pursue this subject further.  You are doubtless convinced that this country stands linked by a thousand ties to the popular sentiment of Europe.  We have no sympathies with the rulers.  The principles, in support of which they are allied, are diametrically opposed to the very spirit of our constitution.  All our sympathies are with the people; for we are all of us the people.  And not only are we thus amalgamated with them in feeling, we are manifestly at the head of that feeling.  We first promulgated their sentiments, we taught them their rights, we first contended successfully for their principles; and for fifty years we have furnished incontrovertible evidence that their principles are true.  These principles have already girded us with Herculean strength, in the very infancy of our empire, and have given us political precedence of governments, which had been established on the old foundation, centuries before our continent was discovered.  And now what nation will be second in the new order of things, is yet to be decided; but the providence of God has already announced, that, if true to ourselves, we shall be inevitably first.

            Now to say that any country is at the head of popular sentiment, is only to say in other words that it is in her power to direct that sentiment.  You are then prepared to proceed with me, and remark, in the next place, that it devolves on this country to lead forward the present movement of public opinion, to freedom and independence.

              It devolves on us to sustain and to chasten the love of liberty among the friends of reform in other nations.  It is not enough that the people everywhere desire a change.  The subversion of a bad government is by no means synonymous with the establishment of a better.  A people must know what it is to be free; they must have learned to reverence themselves, and bow implicitly to the principles of right, or nothing can be gained by a change of institutions.  A constitution written on paper is utterly worthless, unless it be also written on the hearts of a people.  Unless men have learned to govern themselves, they may be plunged into all the horrors of civil war, and yet emerge from the most fearful revolution, a lawless nation of sanguinary slaves.  But if this country remain happy, and its institutions free, it will render the common people of other countries acquainted with the fundamental principles of the science of government; this knowledge will silently produce its practical result, and year after year will insensibly train them to freedom.

            But suppose that the spirit of freedom have been sustained to its issue, the blow to have been struck, and either by concession or force, the time to have arrived when the institutions of the old world are to be transformed; then will the happiness of the civilized world be again connected most intimately with the destinies of this country.  Ancient constitutions having been abolished, no new ones must be adopted by almost every nation in Europe.  The old foundations will have been removed; it will still remain to be decided on what foundations the social edifice shall rest.  From the relation we now sustain to the friends of free institutions, as well as from all the cases of revolution which have lately occurred,[iii] it is evident that to this nation they will all look for precedent and example.  Thus far our institutions have conferred on man all that any form of government was ever expected to bestow.  Should the grand experiment which we are now making on the human character succeed, there can be no doubt that other governments, following our example, will be formed on the principles of equality of right.  To illustrate the subject by an example;—who does not see, that if France had been illuminated in the era of her revolution by the light which our fifty years’ experience has shed upon the world, unstained with the blood of three millions of her citizens, she might now have been rejoicing in a government of law?

            We have thus far spoken only of the effects which this country might produce upon the politics of Europe, simply by her example.  It is not impossible, however, that she may be called to exert an influence still more direct on the destinies of man.  Should the rulers of Europe make war upon the principles of our constitution, because its existence “may operate as an example;” or should a universal appeal be made to arms, on the question of civil and religious liberty;—it is manifest that we must take no secondary part in the controversy.  The contest will involve the civilized world, and the blow will be struck which must decide the fate of man for centuries to come.

            Then will the hour have arrived, when uniting with herself the friends of freedom throughout the world, this country must breast herself to the shock of congregated nations.  Then will she need the wealth of her merchants, the prowess of her warriors, and the sagacity of her statesmen.  Then, on the altars of our God, let us each one devote himself to the cause of the human race; and in the name of the Lord of Hosts go forth unto the battle.  If need be, let our choicest blood flow freely; for life itself is valueless, when such interests are at stake.  Then when a world in arms is assembling to the conflict, may this country be found fighting in the vanguard for the liberties of man.  God himself hath summoned her to the contest, and she may not shrink back.  For this hour may he by his grace prepare her.

            How a contest of this kind would terminate, we should doubt, if our trust were in the arm of flesh.  But we doubt not.  We believe that the cause of man will triumph, because the Judge of the whole earth will do right.  The wrath of man shall praise him, and the remainder of wrath he will restrain.  And yet again we doubt not; for we believe that on the issue of this controversy, the dearest interests of the church of Christ are suspended.  That day will decide, whether the light of revelation shall shine far abroad among the nations, or whether it shall be extinguished, and its place be supplied by the legends of a monkish superstition.  We cannot believe that the blood of martyrs has flowed so much in vain.  We cannot believe that God will suffer his church to go back again for ages, after he has showed her in these latter days, so many tokens for good.  Therefore, though the kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder and cast away their cords from us; he that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall have them in derision.  Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure.  For he hath set his King upon his holy hill of Zion.  God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.

            And if the cause of true religion and of man shall eventually triumph, as we trust in God it will, who can tell how splendid are the destinies which will then await this country!  One feeling, the love of liberty, will have cemented together all the nations of the earth.  Though speaking different languages and inhabiting different regions, all will be but one people, united in the pursuit of one object, the happiness of the whole.  And at the head of this truly holy alliance, if faithful to her trust, will then this nation be found.  The first that taught them to be free; the first that suffered in the contest; the nation that most freely and most firmly stood by them in the hour of their calamity;—at her feet will they lay the tribute of universal gratitude.  Each one bound to her by every sentiment of interest and affection, she will be the centre of the new system, which shall then emerge out of the chaos of ancient institutions.  Henceforth she will sway for ages the destinies of the world.

            Who of us does not kindle into enthusiasm as he contemplates the mighty interests connected with the prosperity of this country?  With the success of our institutions, the cause of man throughout the civilized world seems indissolubly interwoven.  What, then, let us inquire, are the DUTIES TO WHICH WE ARE SUMMONED BY THE RELATION THAT WE SUSTAIN TO OUR BRETHREN OF THE HUMAN RACE?  This is the last topic to which I shall direct your attention.

            And here it is scarcely necessary to remark, that it cannot be our duty to do anything which shall at all interfere with the internal concerns of any other government.  We should thus compromise the fundamental principle of our constitution, that civil institutions are to be established or modified only in obedience to the will of the majority.  But this will can only be ascertained by allowing each nation to select for itself that form of government, which it shall choose.  If the majority in any nation are willing to be slaves, no power on earth can make them free.  It is certainly their misfortune; but physical force can do them no good.  We may extend to them every facility for the dissemination of knowledge and of religion; this we owe them as brethren of the human race; and having done this, we must commit them to the decisions of an all-wise and holy Providence.

            It is evident, then, that unless called to defend the cause of liberty in the field, all we can do for it must be done at home.  Our power resides in the force of our example.  It is by exhibiting to other nations the practical excellence of a government of law, that they will learn its nature and advantages, and will in due time achieve their own emancipation.

            The question, then, What can we do to promote the cause of liberty throughout the world? Resolves itself into another, What can we do to ensure the success of that experiment which our institutions are making upon the character of man?

            In answering it, it is important to remark, that whatever we would do for our country, must be done for THE PEOPLE.  Great results can never be effected in any other way.  Specially is this the case under a republican constitution.  Here the people are not only the real but also the acknowledged fountain of all authority.  They make the laws, and they control the execution of them.  They direct in the senate, they overawe the cabinet, and hence it is the moral and intellectual character of the people which must give to the “very age and body of our institutions their form and pressure.”

            So long, then, as our people remain virtuous and intelligent, our government will remain stable.  While they clearly perceive, and honestly decree justice, our laws will be wholesome, and the principles of our constitution will recommend themselves everywhere to the common sense of man.  But should our people become ignorant and vicious; should their decisions become the dictates of passion and venality, rather than of reason and of right, that moment are our liberties at an end; and, glad to escape the despotism of millions, we shall flee for shelter to the despotism of one.  Then will the world’s last hope be extinguished, and darkness brood for ages over the whole human race.

            Not less important is moral and intellectual cultivation, if we would prepare our country to stand forth the bulwark of the liberties of the world.  Should the time to try men’s souls ever come again, our reliance under God must be, as it was before, on the character of our citizens.  Our soldiers must be men whose bosoms have swollen with the conscious dignity of freemen, and who, firmly rusting in a righteous God, could look unmoved on embattled nations leagued together for purposes of wrong.  When the means of education everywhere throughout our country shall be free as the air we breathe; when every family shall have its Bible, and every individual shall love to read it; then and not till then shall we exert our proper influence on the cause of man; then and not till then shall we be prepared to stand forth between the oppressor and the oppressed, and say to the proud wave of domination, Thus far shalt thou go and no farther.

            It seems then evident, that the paramount duty of an American citizen, is, to put in requisition every possible means for elevating universally the intellectual and moral character of our people.

            When we speak of intellectual elevation, we would not suggest that all our citizens are to become able linguists, or profound mathematicians.  This, at least for the present, is not practicable; it certainly is not necessary.  The object at which we aim will be attained, when every man is familiarly acquainted with what are now considered the ordinary branches of an English education.  The intellectual stores of one language are then open before him; a language in which he may find all the knowledge that he shall ever need to form his opinions upon any subjects on which it shall be his duty to decide.  A man who cannot read, let us always remember, is a being not contemplated by the genius of our constitution.  Where the right of suffrage is extended to all, he is certainly a dangerous member of community who has not qualified himself to exercise it.  But on this part of the subject I need not enlarge.  The proceedings of our general and State Legislatures already furnish ample proof that our people are tremblingly alive to its importance.  We do firmly believe the time to be not far distant, when there will not be found a single citizen of these United States, who is not entitled to the appellation of a well informed man.[iv]

            But supposing all this to be done, still only a part and by far the least important part of our work will have been accomplished.  We have increased the power of the people, but we have left it doubtful in what direction that power will be exerted.  We have made it certain that a public opinion will be formed; but whether that opinion shall be healthful or destructive, is yet to be decided.  We have cut out channels by which knowledge may be conveyed to every individual of our mighty population; it remains for us, by means of those very channels, to instill into every bosom an unshaken reverence for the principles of right.  Having gone thus far, then, we must go farther; for you must be aware that the tenure by which our liberties is held can never be secure, unless moral, keep pace with intellectual cultivation.  This leads us to remark in the second place, that our other and still more imperious duty is, to cultivate the moral character of our people.[v]

            On the means by which this may be effected, I need not detain you.  We have in our hands a book of tried efficacy; a work which contains the only successful appeal that was ever made to the moral sense of man; a book which unfolds the only remedy that has ever been applied with any effect to the direful maladies of the human heart.  You need not be informed that I refer to the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments.

            As to the powerful, I had almost said miraculous effect of the sacred scriptures, there can no longer be any doubt in the mind of anyone one whom fact can make an impression.  That the truths of the Bible have the power of awakening an intense moral feeling in man under every variety of character, learned or ignorant, civilized or savage; that they make bad men good, and send a pulse of healthful feeling through all the domestic, civil and social relations; that they teach men to love right, to hate wrong, and to seek each other’s welfare, as the children of one common parent; that they control the baleful passions of the human heart, and thus make men proficients in the science of self government; and finally, that they teach him to aspire after conformity to a Being of infinite holiness, and fill him with hopes infinitely more purifying, more exalting, more suited to his nature than any other, which this world has ever known; are facts incontrovertible as the laws of philosophy, or the demonstrations of mathematics.  Evidence in support of all this can be brought from every age in the history of man, since there has been a revelation from God on earth.  We see the proof of it everywhere around us.  There is scarcely a neighbourhood in our country where the Bible is circulated, in which we cannot point you to a very considerable portion of its population, whom its truths have reclaimed from the practice of vice, and taught the practice of whatsoever things are pure and honest and just and of good report.

            That this distinctive and peculiar effect is produced upon every man to whom the gospel is announced, we pretend not to affirm.  But we do affirm, that besides producing this special renovation to which we have alluded, upon a part, it in a most remarkable degree elevates the tone of moral feeling throughout the whole of a community.  Wherever the Bible is freely circulated, and its doctrines carried home to the understandings of men, the aspect of society is altered; the frequency of crime is diminished; men begin to love justice, and to administer it by law; and a virtuous public opinion, that strongest safeguard of right, spreads over a nation the shield of its invisible protection.  Wherever it has faithfully been brought to bear upon the human heart, even under most unpromising circumstances, it has within a single generation revolutionized the whole structure of society; and thus within a few years done more for man, than all other means have for ages accomplished without it.  For proof of all this, I need only refer you to the effects of the gospel in Greenland, or in South Africa, in the Society Islands; or even among the aborigines of our own country.

            But before we leave this part of the subject, it may be well to pause for a moment, and inquire whether, in addition to its moral efficacy, the Bible may not exert a powerful influence on the intellectual character of man.

            And here it is scarcely necessary that I should remark, that of all the books with which, since the invention of writing, this world has been deluged, the number of those is very small which have produced any perceptible effect on the mass of human character.  By far the greater part have been, even by their cotemporaries, unnoticed and unknown.  Not many an one has made its little mark upon the generation that produced it, though it sunk with that generation to utter forgetfulness.  But after the ceaseless toil of six thousand years, how few have been the works, the adamantine basis of whose reputation has stood unhurt amid the fluctuations of time, and whose impression can be traced through successive centuries on the history of our species.

            When, however, such a work appears, its effects are absolutely incalculable; and such a work, you are aware, is the Iliad of Homer.  Who can estimate the results produced by this incomparable effort of a single mind!  Who can tell what Greece owes to this first-born of song.  Her breathing marbles, her solemn temples, her unrivalled eloquence, and her matchless verse, all point us to that transcendent genius, who by the very splendor of his own effulgence woke the human intellect from the slumber of ages.  It was Homer who gave laws to the artist; it was Homer who inspired the poet; it was Homer who thundered in the senate; and more than all, it was Homer who was sung by the people; and hence a nation was cast into the mould of one mighty mind, and the land of the Iliad, became the region of taste, the birth-place of the arts.  Nor was this influence confined within the limits of Greece.  Long after the scepter of empire had passed westward, genius still held her court on the banks of the Ilyssus, and from the country of Homer gave laws to the world.  The light which the blind old man of Scio had kindled in Greece, shed its radiance over Italy; and thus did he awaken a second nation to intellectual existence.  And we may form some idea of the power which this one work has to the present day exerted over the mind of man, by remarking, that “nation after nation, and century after century has been able to do little more than transpose his incidents, new-name his characters, and paraphrase his sentiments.”[vi]

            But considered simply as an intellectual production, who will compare the poems of Homer with the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament.  Where in the Iliad shall we find simplicity and pathos which shall vie with the narrative of Moses, or maxims of conduct to equal in wisdom the Proverbs of Solomon, or sublimity which does not fade away before the conceptions of Job, or David, of Isaiah, or St. John.  But I cannot pursue this comparison.  I feel that it is doing wrong to the mind which dictated the Iliad, and to those other mighty intellects on whom the light of the holy oracles never shined.  Who that has read his poem has not observed how he strove in vain to give dignity to the mythology of his time?  Who has not seen how the religion of his country, unable to support the flight of his imagination, sunk powerless beneath him?  It is the unseen world where the master spirits of our race breathe freely and are at home; and it is mournful to behold the intellect of Homer striving to free itself from the conceptions of materialism, and then sinking down in hopeless despair, to weave idle fables of Jupiter and Juno, Apollo or Diana.  But the difficulties under which he labored are abundantly illustrated by the fact, that the light which he poured upon the human intellect taught other ages how unworthy was the religion of his day of the man who was compelled to use it.  “It seems to me,” says Longinus, “that Homer, when he ascribes dissensions, jealousies, tears, imprisonments, and other afflictions to his deities, hath, as much as was in his power, made the men of the Iliad gods, and the gods men.  To man when afflicted, death is the termination of evils; but he hath made not only the nature but the miseries of the gods eternal.”

            If then so great results have flowed from this one effort of a single mind, what may we not expect from the combined effort of several, at least his equals in power over the human heart?  If that one genius, though groping in the thick darkness of absurd idolatry, wrought so glorious a transformation in the character of his countrymen, what may we not look for from the universal dissemination of those writings, on whose authors was poured the full splendor of eternal truth?  If unassisted human nature, spell-bound by a childish mythology, have done so much, what may we not hope for from the supernatural efforts of pre-eminent genius, which spake as it was moved by the Holy Ghost?

            To sum up in a few words what has been said.  If we would see the foundations laid broadly and deeply, on which the fabric of this country’s liberties shall rest to the remotest generations; if we would see her carry forward the work of political reformation, and rise the bright and morning star of freedom over a benighted world; let us elevate the intellectual and moral character of every class of our citizens, and specially let us imbue them thoroughly with the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

            You are well aware that to carry into effect this design, is one of the objects in which good men of every denomination are now so actively engaged.  Having observed that the precepts of the Bible take more immediate effect when repeatedly inculcated upon man by teachers set apart for this purpose, missionary societies have been formed to furnish such teachers to the destitute.  Having found that the proportion of ministers of the gospel is lamentably insufficient to meet the wants of our increasing population; they have formed societies, and endowed institutions, with the design of qualifying a greater number for the pastoral office.  And again it has been observed, that youth is the season for instilling into man the elements of knowledge, and the principles of piety; and hence the Christian world is universally engaged in the benevolent work of Sabbath school instruction.  And here in passing I cannot but remark, that if indeed our country shall be saved from that ruin which has awaited other republics, and shall move steadily onward in that career of glory which Providence has opened before her; next to the circulation of the scriptures, to the Sabbath school more than to anything else, do I verily believe that salvation will be owing.

            You see then that these institutions all have one common object in view, to elevate the intellectual and moral character of our people.  Here is true philanthropy; here is Christian patriotism.  And this is one reason why we so often present these charities to your notice.  When therefore we ask you to aid us in circulating the Bible, in sending the gospel to the destitute, or in educating the ignorant, you must not look unkindly at us; for we plead the cause of our country, of liberty, and of man.  Let us all unite in spreading abroad the means of knowledge and of religion; let us do our utmost to render our nation a church of our Lord Jesus Christ;

Then, howe’er crowns and coronets be rent,

A virtuous populace shall rise the while,

And stand a wall of fire, to guard their native soil.

            And lastly, I would urge you, my brethren, to activity in these labours of charity, by presenting at single view, the momentous results with which they seem to me indissolubly connected; but I feel myself utterly incompetent to the task.

            When I reflect that some of you who now hear me will see fifty millions of souls enrolled on the census of these United States; when I think how small a proportion our present efforts bear to the pressing wants of this mighty population, and how soon the period in which those wants can be supplied will have forever elapsed; when moreover I reflect how the happiness of man is interwoven with the destinies of this country;—I want language to express my conceptions of the importance of the subject; and yet I am aware that those conceptions fall far short of the plain, unvarnished truth.  When I look forward over the long track of coming ages, the dim shadows of unborn nations pass in solemn review before me, and each, by every sympathy which binds together the whole brotherhood of man, implores this country to fulfill that destiny to which she has been summoned by an all-wise Providence, and save a sinking world from temporal misery and eternal death.

            In view of all these considerations, let me again urge you to be in earnest in this cause.  I would plead with you, instead of engaging in political strife, to put forth your hands to the work of making your fellow citizens wiser and better.  I pray you think less of parties and more of your country; and instead of talking about patriotism, to be indeed patriots.  And specially would I charge you to give to this cause not only your active exertions, but your unceasing prayers.  Ye who love the Lord, keep not silence, and give him no rest, until he establish this his Jerusalem, and make her a praise in the whole earth.  God be merciful to us and bless us, and cause his face to shine upon us; that his name may be known on earth, and his saving health unto all nations.  And to him shall be the glory, forever.  Amen

 

NOTES

 

Note A.           Page 6.

           

            In confirmation of these remarks, it may not be amiss to state the following facts.  The Gentleman’s Magazine was, until about thirty years since, almost the only extensively circulated periodical pamphlet in Great Britain.  In this department of literature are now numbered, The Edingburgh and Quarterly Reviews; Westminster Review; Blackwood’s, The Scotsman’s, Monthly, New Monthly, Gentleman’s, and Sporting Magazines; The Christian Observer; Eclectic Review; Universal Review; The Etonian; The Oxonian; Ackerman’s Repository; Retrospective Review; London Magazine; Baldwin’s Magazine; The  Churchman; Evangelical Magazine; Mechanic’s Magazine; The Literary Chronicle; Literary Gazette; The Kaleidoscope; Newcastle Magazine; British Critic; Pamphleteer; Classical Journal; Christian Guardian; Cottager’s Magazine; Farmer’s Magazine; Sunday School Magazine; European Magazine; Imperial Magazine; Literary Magnet; Knight’s Quarterly Magazine; four Botanical Journals, monthly; three of general science, quarterly; besides several other scientific and professional periodical works.  Some of these are splendidly edited, many ably, and most well supported.  The largest works print from five to fourteen thousand copies.

            Upon the eight morning and six evening papers in London, there are no less than 150 literary gentlemen employed, at an expense of L1000 per week; for workmen, L1500 per week; and L1500 more for the literary labours of the weekly and semi-weekly papers.  There are on an average 250 provincial papers.  300,000 papers are ordinarily printed in London weekly, and 200,000 in the country; total 500,000.  The whole amount of the expenses of the British newspaper press is estimated at L721,266 per annum.  The total number of newspaper stamps issued in Great Britain, for the year 1821, was 24,779,786.

            From these facts we may form some idea of the demand for information in Great Britain.  But one other fact may convince us that the number of readers very far exceeds the number of printed papers.  “It is there a custom for carriers to set out in all directions daily, and let papers out to customers, for a few moments to each, as they proceed, until night; so that a hundred persons may read or rather glance over the same paper for a penny each.”

            “There are but few papers published in the departments of France; but those in the metropolis, publish an enormous number.  The Constitutionel publishes 19,000; the Journal des Debats, 14,000, and the other papers from that to 5,000.”  It is probable that the ratio of improvement in many nations on the continent of Europe is not very far beneath that of Great Britain.

 

Note B            Page 31.

 

            “The following are a few of the subjects of the political essays of the Censor (a periodical paper published at Buenos Ayres) in 1817: an explanation of the Constitution of the United States, and highly praised—The Lancastrian System of Education—on the causes of the prosperity of the United States—Milton’s essay on the liberty of the press—A review of the work of the late President Adams, on the American Constitution, and a recommendation of checks and balances, continued through several numbers and abounding with much useful information for the people—brief notice of the life of James Monroe, president of the United States—examination of the federative system—on the trial by Jury—on popular elections—on the effect of enlightened productions on the condition of mankind—an analysis of the several State constitutions of the Union, &c.

            “There are in circulation, Spanish translations of many of our best revolutionary writings.  The most common are two miscellaneous volumes, one, containing Paine’s common sense and rights of man, and declaration of Independence, several of our constitutions, and General Washington’s farewell address.  The other is an abridged history of the United States down to the year 1810, with a good explanation of the nature of our political institutions, accompanied with a translation of Mr. Jefferson’s inaugural speech, and other state papers.  I believe these have been read by nearly all who can read, and have produced a most extravagant admiration of the United States, at the same time, accompanied with something like despair.”—Breckenridge’s South America, Vol. II. Pp. 213, 214.—From Prof. Everett’s Oration at Plymouth.

 

 

 

 

Note C.           Page 38.

 

            In illustration of these remarks, it may be interesting to state the following facts.  “Not one of the eleven new States has been admitted into the Union without provision in its constitution for Schools, Academies, Colleges and Universities.  In most of the original States large sums in money are appropriated to education.  And they claim a share in the great landed investments which are mortgaged to it in the new States.  Reckoning those contributions, federal and local, it may be asserted, that nearly as much as the whole national expenditure of the United States is set apart by the laws for enlightening the people.  Besides more than half a million at publick schools, there are considerably more than 3000 undergraduates matriculated at the various colleges and universities authorized to confer academical degrees.”—Ingersoll’s Oration before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

            It is, however, evident, from the returns of the State of New York alone, that the above estimate of Mr. Ingersoll is vastly below the truth.  Governor Clinton in his late message states, that “the number of children taught in our common schools during the last year, exceeds 400,000; and is probably more than one fourth of our whole population.  The students in the incorporated academies amount to 2,683; and in the Colleges to 755.”  It is very rare to find a person born in New England, who cannot both read and write.  The late Judge Reeve, of the Supreme Court of Connecticut, declared, that in the whole of his professional practice, he had found but three persons in that State who could not sign their names, and that all of them were foreigners.

 

Note D.          Page 39.

 

            “A republican government is certainly most congenial with the nature, most propitious to the welfare, and most conducive to the dignity of our species.  Man becomes degraded in proportion as he loses the right of self government.  Every effort ought therefore to be made to fortify our free institutions, and the great bulwark of security is to be formed in education; the culture of the heart and the head; the diffusion of knowledge, piety and morality.  A virtuous and enlightened man can never submit to degradation, and a virtuous and enlightened people will never breathe in the atmosphere of slavery.  Upon education, then, we must rely for the purity, the preservation, and the perpetuation of Republican government.  In this sacred cause, we cannot exercise too much liberality.  It is identified with our best interests in this world, and with our best destinies in the world to come.”Gov. Clinton’s last Message.   END.


[i] Note A.

[ii] Ch. Observer, Vol. 24, p. 401.

[iii] Note B.

[iv] Note C.

[v] Note D.

[vi] Johnson. Preface to Shakespeare.

Sermon – Fasting – 1836, Massachusetts (Gunnison)

The Nation’s Progress,

Or

Licentiousness and Ruin,

A Discourse,

Delivered on the Evening of the

Annual Fast in Massachusetts,

April 7, 1836.

 

By John Gunnison,

Pastor of the Union Evangelical Church

Of Amesbury and Salisbury.

 

“Their rules of life,

Defective and unsanctioned, prove too weak

To bind the roving appetite, and lead

Blind nature up to God.” Cowper.

 

Amesbury:

Printed by J. Caldwell,

Courier Press.

 

Discourse.

 

Psalm XXII: 23.

The Kingdom is the Lord’s; He is the governor among the nations.

Psalm II:9. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; Thou shalt dash them to pieces like a potter’s vessel.

 

These sentiments are but dimly recognized, either by the rulers or the ruled of this world. That the world belongs to God–that He made it–that He governs it–and that He will dispose of it, are facts seldom presenting themselves, in all the impressiveness of their vast reality, before the great mass of human minds. It is true men do not–they dare not–in so many words deny the rightful dominion of God; yet they do virtually exclude Him from his own kingdom. By enacting laws, and cherishing principles, and setting examples, in direct contrariety to the divine law, rulers ask, in language by no means equivocal; “Who is the Lord, that we should obey Him?” –and by following out his spirit in their allowed practices, the great mass of men say, “There is no God!”

 Now here we detect the specious machinery of atheism. The simple fact that men deny their obligations to God, or attempt unrighteously to cancel these obligations, shows beyond doubt that they deem themselves their own masters, created for their own gratification, with a perfect right to live exclusively to themselves. Yet, notwithstanding the universality of this practical atheism, “The kingdom is the Lord’s, and He is governor among the nations.” This is God’s world. He made it. He preserves it, and to his righteous disposal it must ultimately submit.

“Why then do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? Why do the kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, let us break their bands asunder, and let us cast their cords away from us? He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh. The Lord shall have them in derision. He shall speak to them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure.”

 It would seem that the fact of God’s rightful authority should have exerted, ere this, a constraining influence upon the world which he has made. Such however is not the result. It has been true in all time that men are “lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God.” If we survey the first sinner, upon his expulsion from paradise, or mark the malice of Cain, or the ambition of Nimrod; or if we trace down in all its length the mighty stream of generations past, we perceive the same features, and the same proofs of practical atheism, in the great mass of men, of every period and of every clime.

 The idolatry of the Canaanites, the abominations of Israel, he tyranny of Ahab, the cruelties of Nero, the fires of the Inquisition, and the blasphemies of Voltaire and Paine, although standing out as monitory way-marks in the “course of time,” are by no means extraordinary exhibitions. They serve indeed as beacons for us to gaze at and as facts to converse upon and occasions from which wrongfully to infer our own virtue, and to congratulate our own age and country upon the refinement of intellect–the reign of liberty–and the influence of religion–when, in sober truth, the same great outlines of oppression, idolatrous love to the world, atheism, and unblushing sin, in all their essential elements, live and operate in our own bosoms–expand by our firesides–give complexion to our social interviews–pollute our sanctuaries– bask beneath the tree of liberty and assume the control of our national and state legislatures.

In confirmation of these remarks, it seems needful only to survey the existing state of the public mind and the public morals in our own land.

 From the morals of a community may always be inferred the virtue or licentiousness of public sentiment; and on the other hand, the public mind is always a true index of the public morals. That era of anarchy and misrule which changed the most populous cities of France into a modern Golgotha, by the sacrifice of not fewer than three millions of human beings upon the altar of cruelty and lust, did not at once burst forth, without having been preceded by the state of mind and morals, in perfect accordance with all the fatal transactions of that dark period.

Previous to the out-breaking of the French Revolution, it is a well-known historical fact, that the public mind had become notoriously licentious. It is true, that a “form of godliness” was sustained; nor is it less true, that atheism was openly avowed by many, and secretly cherished by more, whose place and whose privilege it was to give form, and force, and character to the public mind.

 Licentiousness of sentiment, therefore, may justly be regarded as the pioneer which preceded and effectually prepared the way for the abolition of God’s sabbath–the prostitution of His ordinances, and the entire reign of terror which ensued. And is not similar licentiousness of sentiment now a marked, and by no means a happy feature of our national mind?

The Press, in these States, is an engine of immense power indeed, with some qualification, may it not be denominated the presiding genius of our law, religion, and liberty? What then is the general character of the American press? Is it, or is it not anti-Christian? In reference to the great mass of periodicals devoted to politics, may it not justly be asserted, that their influence, in this point of view, is bad, decidedly bad? To profit, or party, or popularity, most of them are manifestly pledged; wholly irrespective of those eternal obligations which bind all men to act for God and virtue. And what shall be said of scores even, among those nominally devoted to the advancement of God’s kingdom? Is it not their direct tendency to undermine the deep and everlasting foundations of the gospel? It cannot be denied, that to a considerable extent, through the press, the public mind is infected with the spirit of a religion, which not only fails of recognizing God as the moral Governor of the world, and contemplating man as a lost and guilty being, whose only refuge from “the wrath to come” is in the cross of Christ–but a religion which commends itself to the worldly, the careless and the profane, by casting a false garb over the deep depravity of the heart–by trifling with sin, and sneering at accountability and a “judgment to come.” “Christ and the Church!” was the motto of our puritan fathers; but this perverted public sentiment leaves God, and Christ, and holiness, and the Church altogether in the back ground. And have not the magistrate and the preacher aided the press and contributed their full share in this deterioration of public sentiment?

 Whether the multitude range themselves under the undisguised banner of infidelity, or embrace a system claiming affinity with the scriptures, the operation of one and the same spirit seems widely prevalent. This spirit manifestly seeks to deny, evade or explain away the great distinguishing doctrines of revelation–to keep the awful attributes of God out of sight–to hurl conscience from her throne–to blot out accountability–to reduce heaven and hell and holiness to the mere imagery of a disordered brain, and with one sweeping stroke, to prostrate all those cardinal truths which alone can exert a redeeming influence upon fallen man.

 There was a period in our history, when the public sentiment (especially of New England) contemplated man, not as the mere creature of time and chance and reason; but as a being of eternal destination–a subject of God’s moral government–most strongly bound to recognize the law of his Creator and to live for eternity, his final abode. Then, appeals were made, both by the magistrate, the preacher, and the press, to the moral obligation and the living conscience of men.

Then, instead of eulogizing the all-sufficiency of reason, and man’s native purity, and God’s indulgent tenderness toward sin; instead of speaking with complacency of the imperfection of the scriptures, and the innocent frailties of human nature; and the trifling importance of vital godliness–public sentiment recognized distinctly through all its mediums, the “desperate wickedness” of unrenewed hearts; the personality and office word of the Holy Ghost; the vicarious sufferings of “God manifest in the flesh;” the supremacy of the scriptures; and the indispensableness of that new-birth, without which none can see God in peace.

 Then, God the Creator, God the Lawgiver, God the Governor and God the Judge, both in the world of matter and the world of mind, was acknowledged; and the elements of man’s spiritual and accountable being were aroused and put in motion by appeals to his actual state, in relation to those everlasting truths revealed in the scriptures.

 And what was the result upon the Puritans themselves, and their immediate descendants? Why (to borrow the language of a certain writer, not far from a century subsequent to the landing of the pilgrims) –“The name and interest of God has been written upon us, in capital letters, from the beginning. How did our fathers entertain the gospel from the first, with all the institution thereof! How much of “holiness to the Lord; was inscribed upon all their ways and works@ and how do we reap the fruits, in the good influence of our pious rulers, and the practice of morality, and the enjoyment of peaceable times!” Near the same period, a member of the British Parliament, in a speech before that body, said– “I have lived in New England seven years, and all that time I never heard one profane oath; and all that time I never saw a man drunk in that land.”

 Now when we wander back through by-gone periods, and contrast the purity of that “olden time” with the corruption of the present, how can we avoid the conviction, that, in the language of Moses to Israel, “Of the Rock that begat us we are unmindful; and have forgotten God, that formed us?” That “we have provoked him to jealousy with new gods, and sacrificed to gods which came newly up, which our fathers feared not?” How can the fact be well concealed that a spirit of practical atheism is not only pervading the domestic circle, but diffusing its baneful influence through the press, and the pulpit, the court of justice, and the hall of legislation?

Is it not obvious that the face of society now exhibits many of those dark presages which ushered in the death-struggle of liberty, religion and law in revolutionary France? Who can fail of perceiving, in “the signs of the times,” a marked contempt of those statutes of eternal righteousness, laid down in the great law-book of heaven? Is it not easy to detect in many features of our political economy and the administration of our civil government, a tacit denial of God’s right and God’s agency, and the great principles of God’s government amongst men?

Instead of making, as did the Puritans, God’s word the polestar and chart of legislative rule and legal enactment, is it not undeniable, that selfishness, reckless of consequences, often binds in fetters of adamant the decisions of the Judge–the doings of State legislatures, and the acts of Congress?

 Time was, when for arresting with a bold and fearless hand, the current of death in its fatal sweep over the community, a worthy citizen could not have been personally abused, legally prohibited the liberty of speech, fined, and condemned to solitary imprisonment; and the reckless ruffian exculpated from the due rewards of his deeds, and virtually commended for personal insult and brutal force! In the better days of New England, such an act of palpable disregard to righteousness in high places would have eclipsed her glory, and darkened the promise of her brightening hopes.

 But now, such a transaction may command public applause; and in perfect keeping with the spirit by which this is prompted, the system of retailing strong drink at the corner of every street, and in almost every dark receptacle of sin, is legalized, and guarded and watched over, and invested with energy and power, and progress, by those august bodies, which are entrusted with the guardianship of the commonwealth, and solemnly pledged to act for the public good. It would seem that the iniquitous system of “rum-shops and ruin,” which has so long obliterated the fear and counteracted the truth of God; and preyed upon the very vitals of our communities; I say, it would seem that this ruinous system should have failed ere this to command the influence of legislative enactments, and the fostering guardianship of the law.

 Indeed, it is matter both of astonishment and mortification, that in such a land, and at such a day, the cause of distillers, drunkards and criminals can be vindicated by the majesty of the statute book! Yet such is the fact; and the position (of some at least) of our constituted authorities, in relation to the distillery and the dram-shop, is such, in the judgment of sober charity, as to exclude the moral government of God and the accountability of man altogether from the public mind! And how shall it be accounted for? Why truly, “the powers that be” seem, at least in this respect, moved and influenced by that greater power, denominated in scripture phrase, “the God of this world.” Fear of public odium–love of sensual indulgence, or self-interest, in some one or other of its numerous forms, appears to have perverted the judgments–blinded the perception, and eradicated from the ethics of our rulers, those eternal principles of righteousness, which only can “exalt a nation.” And thus it comes to pass that in instances, too numerous, both the maker and the executor of the law sacrifice the interests of two worlds upon the polluted and polluting altar of selfishness.

In fact, the publicly legalized and cherished manufacture and sale of intoxicating drinks, with its associated sisterhood of vices, affords fearful indication that the death-struggle of virtue is about being witnessed; and that Jehovah is suffering us as a nation, to strengthen ourselves “against the Almighty;” and to rush madly “upon the thick bosses of his burning buckler.”

Associated with this sin and invigorated by the atmosphere of a lax religious sentiment, is the open and allowed and legalized desecration of God’s sabbath.

It is ours, not only to witness in the common walks of life, the transaction of secular business–the idleness– the labor, and the sport, which, from the gray-headed to the little child, alarmingly mark the Lord’s day; but also, to see our national legislature lay reckless hands upon that sacred institution, by employing scores of thousands in conveying the mails, discharging the duties of the Post Office, drilling at military stations, and attending to secular business, in various other departments of the  general government; and thus giving the whole country a precedent for travelling, boating, gambling, horse-racing, or whatever else may suit their own convenience or profit, or pleasure on that day, with the sanctification of which is entwined the very life of our country’s welfare. And it might with propriety be added, that the personal example of our rulers, from the highest to the lowest, with few exceptions, indicates in this respect, the prevalence of an infidelity, the sad story of which will probably be read by coming generations, in the gone-by glory and departed worth of this once favored land. Here again we can but perceive marked forgetfulness of God, rebellion against His laws, and a tacit denial that “the kingdom is the Lord’s; that he is Governor amongst the nation’s.”

An additional feature of the same degeneracy may be seen in the gross, growing, and disgraceful violation of the seventh commandment; under which, to say the least, every city, and village, and considerable town groans and becomes infected with the elements both of literal and spiritual death. This “body of sin” has filled our moral atmosphere with pestilential vapors; and in conjunction with infidelity, intemperance and sabbath breaking, consigned to the grave and a hopeless eternity.

“Tis a vortex insatiate, on whose giddy bosom,

The victim is whirl’d, till his senses are gone;

When lost to all shame, and the dictates of reason,

He lends not an effort to ever return.”

How many have found its ‘end as bitter as wormwood;” and mourned “at last, when their flesh and body are consumed!” and yet it is tolerated by the laxity of public religious sentiment. The prevailing skepticism, in regard to God’s government and God’s truth, gives it countenance; and the pulpit, and the press, and the ruler have forborne to portray its hideous features, and to hang out for the benefit of the young and unsuspecting, such beacons as should effectually deter them from that pathway which leads “down to hell.” And hence, it has continued to extend its ravages and multiply its victims, and increase its pollutions, in our nominally Christian communities–in which even, there has seemed to be too little virtue to check its onward march! Nevertheless, “Because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience!”

“Whoremongers and adulterers, He will judge!”

To the foregoing it were well to add, in all their deteriorating attitudes, and disgraceful mobs, the deliberate assassinations, the gambling, the perjury and bribes, which in most parts of the country, stalk forth at noon day. But time forbids. Justice, however, demands the introduction of one other, and peradventure, the chief of this sisterhood of harpies, who have already commenced their prey upon our body politic; and are rapidly bearing off in their foul talons, the guards of liberty, the restraints of law, and the sanctions of religion. I allude to American Slavery. “That we have in the midst of us more than town millions of human being in servile bondage, is a fact suited to awaken the deepest solicitude and the most fearful apprehension.” This simple fact of itself is a caricature upon all the institutions of our boasted democracy; it gives the lie to our constitution; and holds us up to the world as a nation of hypocrites and oppressors! Such is the attitude in which it inevitably places these United States.

Nor is it amongst the least of the alarming features of this great national sin, that it finds a congenial atmosphere in the capital of this falsely-called “asylum of the oppressed;” and beneath the very eye of the constituted guardians of liberty!

Think of the spectacle. On the one hand, imagine the American eagle proudly towering above the nation’s dome, the ensign of equal rights; and on the other, –perchance within the very shadow which this proud ensign casts upon the distance–scores or hundreds of human beings, lacerated by the lash, groaning beneath the chain, or being bought and sold like beasts of burden! And those too, MEN, to whom equally with ourselves, not only the Constitution, but the God of nature, has guaranteed the “inalienable rights” of “life, LIBERTY, and the pursuit of happiness!” A spectacle sufficiently ludicrous one might suppose, to ensure its suppression, even were it not attended with superlative guilt. But alas! When we enter the halls of Congress; when we listen to the sentiments advanced by many of those legislators who lay high claim to patriotism, devotion to the cause of liberty, and even deference for the bible, we can be tremble for our political ark. There, in the legitimate spirit of despotism, we hear the right, and even the virtue of slavery asserted. Here, in too many lamentable instances, we see a disposition to sacrifice upon the altar of lust and licentiousness, whatever is valuable in our bill of rights, and whatever is obligatory in the law of love. It is a dark omen–that Columbia, the seat of government, the alledged strong-hold of liberty, the focus of equal rights, should after all be the greatest slave market perhaps in the Christian world, is a fact pregnant with the most fearful evils. The “mischief” however, thus “framed by law, and proceeding from the throne of iniquity,’ terminates not with the sacrifice of the flesh, and blood, and souls of nearly three millions of immortal beings; but like the poisonous effluvia from the fabled bohon upas, it impregnates the whole atmosphere of our republic.

Witness its influence in the interception and robbery of the United mail; the cold-blooded murder of guiltless citizens, without the privilege of trial by jury; the various attempts to interdict the freedom of the press; and by lawless mobs and brute force, to aim a fatal blow at free discussion, and liberty of speech! It is not, then merely the wrongful oppression of degraded millions, which is involved in the natural results of this great moral outrage; but all the rights and immunities for which the Pilgrims suffered, the Puritans prayed, and the Patriots bled; all that is dear in our social compact; all that is valuable in our privileges of citizenship; all that is to be prized in our religious, literary and political institutions; stands or falls inevitably with the great question of American slavery, in its present aspects and bearings. Yes–let the unobstructed influence of this crying sin, with its legitimate legion of moral maladies and physical tortures, continues to go forth and finally preponderate–and the knell of this republic will soon have tolled–our halls of legislation will be transformed into theatres of violence and blood–our Constitution scattered to the winds–our sanctuaries demolished–and evils “without a precedent, without a number, and without a name,” overwhelm us, as did the deluge the antediluvians, or the fire the guilty cities of the plain.

Without, therefore, attempting to describe the numberless evils, the cruelties, the unbridled licentiousness, the extreme degradation of morals, the ruin of souls, and the numerous and nameless lesser sufferings and sins of which slavery is directly or indirectly the prolific source; I would merely ask, do not the facts alluded to in this connexion, show undeniably that our nation has forgotten that God who has threatened to judge the oppressor? –That we practically claim the kingdom as our own–and impiously ask, “Who is Lord over us?”

Howbeit, such is the spectacle which our country at present exhibits. These are the great features of its moral character and its political aspect. Such is the cloud, surcharged with blackness and pregnant with the lightnings of heaven, which is now intercepting the rays of our sun, and stretching athwart our national horizon! It is not however, there mere demanded surrender of civil rights–it is not the prospective entombing of liberty and law alone, which admonish us of the coming catastrophe, in a voice of thunder; but those interests which are vastly more valuable–which will outlive time and chance and change–the interests of the imperishable spirit, the untold and imagineless joys or woes of an approaching ETERNITY, call upon us to AWAKE! And is there no redeeming principle? May not the threatening calamity be strayed? Not surely by casting a false and fallacious garb over the existing state of things. The elements of anarchy and sin can never be palsied and rendered powerless by the siren song of safety. You might as well hope to arrest the tornado by dint of argument, or to lull the ocean to repose with the sound of the violin. No–the seeds of iniquity lie deeply imbedded in the human soul. “The carnal mind is enmity against God.” In the power and the purity of vital godliness, therefore, exists our last hope. A return to the primitive views of God’s character and the sublime, and spiritual and purifying truths of God’s word, holds forth the only bright promise either for “the life that now is or that which is to come.” Here must be the starting place, the source, and the sanction of all genuine reform. The gross, and willful, and bewildering errors, in regard to God’s righteous government and man’s moral being, which have so widely gone forth, must be counter acted by those scriptural truths, which urge the broad and spiritual and unyielding demands of the divine law–which waken up convictions of sin, solicitude for salvation, and thirst for holiness, in the heart forgetful of God and careless of its immortal destiny. Not until then, will the deceitful gains and the gaudy gayeties of this passing world fade away before the Saviors’ Cross. Not until then, will the sense of a present and presiding God constrain and hollow-hearted statesman, and the unrighteous judge, and the aspiring demagogue, to act in reference to that day, “when every work shall be brought into judgment, with every secret thing!” indeed, not until then, will “peace on earth and good will” abound, and man’s emancipated spirit, “like the waters of a peaceful pool, reflect the image of heaven.” But whilst he continues to imbibe the elements of any system which deprives God of his holiness–the transgressor of his guilt, and sin of its malignity; so long will man think upon and live for himself alone. So long will he forget his moral ruin, and the imperishable spirit, and God his Judge, and eternity, his final abode. So long will he seek only the world that he dwells in, the vanities that encompass him around, and those “fleshly lust that war against the soul.” Until the bible, as understood by Paul and the Pilgrims shall become the “citizen’s directory and the statesman’s manual,” bribery, and intrigue, and management will preside at our elections; and instead of having our “officers peace and our exactors righteousness,” the wicked will rule–sin will stand forth with brazen front in the hall of legislation, the seat of justice, and the sanctuary of God–and the land will mourn.

So long, it must be expected, that “the house” which “is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death” will continue to send forth its putrefactive influence; diffusing rottenness and corruption through the land–while drunkenness, perjury and murder flourish within and around it.

So long, that Sabbath will be used as an engine of Satan, in the unrestrained pursuit of sin. It will be appropriated to human convenience of interest, a legalized, and established and frequented entrance-way to perdition.

So long will rulers legislate, and advocates plead, and judges decide for distilleries and dram shops, and ensure an incalculable amount of wrong and ruin to the community.

So long will human flesh and blood and souls be held in unrighteous bondage– the institution of marriage derided–separation of parents and children enforced–a vast system of incest and pollution cherished–and liberty, and right, and religion despised and trampled in the dust, until “the land spew us out, as it spewed out the nations that were before us.”

And now, my brethren, it remains for the watchmen upon Zion’s walls; and for “the church of God which He has purchased with his own blood,” to decide in no small measure whether our country shall still be borne down, and palsied, and petrified by this mighty pressure of sin, until He who “is Governor among the nations, shall “break us with a rod of iron, and dash in pieces like a potter’s vessel.” Did the prayer of Abraham avail for polluted Sodom? Might “ten righteous” have saved the guilty cities of the plain? What then may not the thousands of Israel, by deep humiliation, repentance, and intercession before God, accomplish for our sinning, sinking land? “Behold, thus saith the Lord, return ye everyone from his evil way, and make your ways and your doings good. But if ye will not return, I will pluck you up, and leave you desolate.” Let, therefore, the neglect of God and profanation of His sabbath, the lewdness and intemperance, oppression and pride, and practical atheism which now abound, be tolerated, and cheered and cherished, by the rulers and the ruled, but for a while, and the sad crisis of our destiny will have fully come.

“Behold, saith the Lord, it is written before me, I will not keep silence, but will recompense, even recompense, your iniquities into your own bosom!” and what can shield us against the righteous retribution of Jehovah? Where are the cities, and states, and kingdoms of antiquity? Babylon? Ninevah? Tyre? Egypt? Carthage? Could their walls, or treasures, or armies withstand the visitation of the Almighty? “Like a potter’s vessel,” they are “dashed in pieces” –like a passing meteor, they have faded from the horizon of human sight! And thus must it be inevitably in relation to ourselves, “whenever God takes off his restraining hand,” and suffers lewdness, and lust, and infidelity unchecked to fill the sail, and guide the helm, and drive furiously upon the hidden rocks below! Then–in the characteristic language of an eminent writer–“the reign of chaos will return. The waves of our unquiet sea, high as our mountains, will roll, and roar, and dash, from West to East, and from South to North, wrecking the hopes, and upturning the deep foundations of all that we hold dear! Who then would thrust out our ship from her moorings, in a starless night, upon an ocean of storms, without rudder, or anchor, or compass, or chart? The elements around us may remain; and our giant rivers and mountains; our miserable descendants also may multiply and vegetate, and rot, in moral darkness and putrefaction, –But, the American character, and our glorious institutions, will go down to the tomb, and our epitaph will stand forth a warning to the world–Thus endeth the nation that despised the Lord!”

Here, then, o ye people! “Be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him.”

 

Sermon – Fasting – 1839, Maine

Fret not thyself because of evil doers.”

A

Sermon

Preached on Fast Day,

April 18, 1839.

 

By Samuel Hopkins

Pastor of the First Congregational Church

In Saco, ME.

 

[Published by Request]

 

Saco:

S. L. Goodale

1839

 

 

Psalm 37. 1.

 

Fret Not Thyself Because of Evil Doers.

 

The world abounds with evil doers. You may find them – without search – among the polite and the vulgar; in high ways and by-ways; abroad and at home. They beset you, they face you, they thwart you – everywhere. If you will, you may spy some deformity of conduct, or policy, or principle – some flaw or defect – some excrescence or putrefying sore – upon every one you look at; upon chief magistrate, law maker, judge, and petty justice; upon pedagogue and school-boy; buyer and seller; husband, wife, and child; maid and mistress; deacon and minister of the Gospel.

How this strange and universal degeneracy comes to pass – how it dare sustain itself against the tremendous warnings of all past history – I do not stop to enquire. The fact is all I want. Everybody – at least everybody else – does wrong, more or less. They do not do what they should. They do what they should not.

Another thing. The eyes and ears of the present generation are peculiarly occupied with each others’ faults. Not that we are quicker to scent, or more ravenous to devour, the offal [refuse] of human wickedness than our fathers were. But times have changed. The ends of the earth are brought together. An evil done at a distant point–in a twinkling–is bruited in our ears. The press tells it. Steam power carries it. Strolling lecturers trumpet it and denounce it.  And the result is, that whereas past generations could see but little of the deeds of evildoers, beyond their own firesides or hamlets – we have an interminable succession of abominations, floating before us from every quarter of the globe, thrust upon us by every wind that blows, chattered to us by every tongue that talks, till we are sickened – verily sickened – with the uncleannesses of a world lying in wickedness. All this is well. God has his design in it. And God will make it tell – with power, too – in the accomplishment of his purposes of grace.

These two facts, then, are now before us; the one – that the world is full of evil doers; and the other – that the deeds of evil doers, to a degree unknown in former times, are forced upon our minds.

These things being so – if ever there was a generation for whom the words of our text were specially designed; if ever there was a generation who needed specially to weigh and remember these words – that generation is our own. And perhaps the careful consideration of their import can never be more timely than upon a day like this; a day set apart “in view of our manifold transgressions as individuals and as a community”; a day which we are as prone to occupy in brooding over the sins of others, as in confessing and forsaking our own.

The duty enjoined in the text can hardly be stated in plainer terms – “Fret not thyself because of evil doers.” In presenting it to your consideration I shall endeavor.

 

I.       To illustrate the behavior here prohibited.

II.    To present some reasons why we should avoid it.

 

I.       Let us examine the behavior here prohibited.

A man of a right spirit will feel the spirit stirred within him against Sin; whether the Sin be in himself or in others; whether it rise before him in the misdeeds of the oppressor, in the vices of the inebriate, in the arts of the libertine, or in the waywardness of a little child. He will not wonder, yet never feel – he will not behold, yet never care a feather – when evil doers are scattering firebrands, arrows and death. Neither will he be roused because men do evil here or there, in this way or that – yet blink and nod and go to sleep over wickedness in some other shape or some other place. It is impossible for us, if we obey the Bible, to look upon any sort of evil doing with indifference.

There is, then, a feeling, an excitement of heart against evil doers which is duty. To describe it; it is – dislike – strong aversion – abhorrence. All this exists in the spotless citizen of heaven. It exists in God.

But – there is a kind of excitement which, forsooth, because it is against evil doers, calls itself good, and passes for good, though it is kith and kin with the evil it opposes. It is not an excitement which leads us to yearn over the worker of iniquity. It is not an excitement which sends us to our closets to weep and plead in their behalf. It is an excitement which hurries us to harshness and bitterness; of look, of word, of deed. It is – passion. It is – ill humor. It is – wrath. It is what, in common talk, we call “getting cross.” It is what the Bible calls “fretting ourselves.” When we indulge it, we get out of all patience and into all agitation – perhaps, beside ourselves – because somebody does not do, or believe, or feel, or preach, what we think is right. When a child teases us; when a jockey cheats us; when a friend neglects us, or a neighbor defames us; when a man-seller or a rum-seller will not mind us; when an impudent fellow insults us; when any one refuses our party, our doctrine, or our measures; when Congress thrusts out our petitions; when  a Christian brother or a Christian minister seems to us to say “God speed” to the wicked; – whatever be the evil, and how great soever the provocation – the moment we lose our temper, the moment we get angry and vexed, we fall into the very behavior forbidden in our text. We “fret ourselves because of evil doers.”

II.    Let us consider some reasons why we should avoid fretting ourselves because of evil doers.

1. One reason is – it does no good. True – it sometimes passes for an evidence of piety; and sometimes is all the evidence we can get. We may point to our feelings and our bold words and our schemes and our labors against evil doers and say – “Lo our zeal – ; our zeal for the Lord of Hosts.” [Isaiah 37:32] – We may point conscience there and say – “Peace – Peace.” We may feel Pharisaical, and self-righteous, and self-pleased, and safe, because we are hot against the wicked. Thus our opposition to evil doers may give a temporary comfort; it may bolster up, for a day, our souls – lull to sleep, for a night, our fears – and keep at bay, for a while, our convictions.

But does this do us good? Does it make us better? Does it mold us into the likeness of God? Does it help us in our preparatory work for heaven? What! – fretfulness – ill temper – self-righteousness – the light of our own fire – the sparks of our own kindling – guide us to glory and to God! Fretting ourselves against the wicked – is this attuning our hearts to the music of heaven! But, if not – what doth it profit us?

“But it does the wicked good. It takes off their chariot wheels. It troubles their consciences. It sometimes makes them leave off their wickedness.”

Does it? What! You’re getting peevish do all this! Your ill humor physic away iniquity like this! The mere lightning and grumbling of a towering passion – of yours, of mine, or of a hundred others leagued together – will they do so much? Will a scowl – all alone – quell a willful child? Will a volley of angry words – and nothing else – reclaim a thief? Will the flashing indignation of priests and elders – all alone – convert a heretic? Will the trumpeted wrath of the north – all alone – bring to repentance the slaveholder of the south?

Try it – then. To the work – then; good men and true. And – by all your pity for the oppressed, your fears for the unbeliever, your regard for order, and you love for domestic peace – use no truth, no persuasion, no authority; but raise one united and untiring peal of wrath – till the wilderness bud and blossom – till the world put on righteousness for her robe and beauty for her diadem.

“But, nay – ; this is absurd. No one affirms it. Truth is wanted, for the conscience. Power is wanted, for the perverse.”

Well – then; has Truth grown halt and lazy, in her old age, that she must needs be whipped and spurred by Passion? Has Power lost its nerve and right that it must be bolstered up by anger? – If truth for the conscience, and power for the intractable – be the legitimate and effective means of dealing with the wicked, why not trust to them? Why foist in something else? Can we not publish truth – can we not use our power (when we get it) without being in a passion? To be sure we can. And if we can, and if a sour temper neither convicts the conscience nor subjects the forward pray how does it mend the matters of a wicked world? Not at all. Then it does no good. And God has well said – “Fret not thyself because of evil doers.”

The truth is – when a man’s desire is purely to do good; to convince, to reclaim, to gain, the evil doer; he coincides, instinctively, with the precept we are considering. He is moved; but not to wrath. He is excited; but not with fretting. He goes about, the gentle and hopeful bearer of “the Truth as it is in Jesus.” A precious testimony, this, to the righteousness and wisdom of the text.

2.  But – another reason. Fretting ourselves because of evil doers does hurt.

How is our own comfort affected by it? Well – or ill? Watch the man who is out of humor at somebody’s wickedness; the man whose words are quick and sharp and hot; the man who looks and tones and gestures show you that he is out of patience – vexed – that someone does not think as he thinks and do as he does. Is he happy? – No. that fretful gust must pass away; that swell of passion must subside, before he can enjoy himself or anything that God has made. But we need not look to others, to understand this. We have all felt it. Anger and enjoyment cannot live together. They are contrary the one to the other. We must either train ourselves to consider, and to endure evil doers without being irritated; or – in this world where they whirl around us like the leaves of autumn – we must lead wretched life to our graves.

Beside; a man in a passion is no comfortable companion. In matters not what his passion concerns. Whether fretting himself because someone has done right, or because someone has done wrong – he sends discomfort all around him.

And again; when we are irritated because of evil doers, we shall act accordingly. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” [Matthew 12:34] “Out of the heart are the issues of life.” [Proverbs 4:23] Like does not more surely beget like, than a fretted temper, some evil fruit. It makes us speak wrong. It makes us do wrong.

And yet more. A vexed spirit vexes a spirit. Passion excites passion. If you do wrong, and I fret about it, you are not excited by my wrath to do better, but to do as you please; and that is – to do wrong the more. Let a man see that you cannot bear him because he is so bad – you excite his anger. He cannot bear you. This is human nature. Miserable stuff, I grant; nevertheless, the very stuff you have to deal with. And a fine beginning you have made in the scheme of mending a sinner, when, by your fretting, you have brought him to fretting too. Why! You have made him bristle like a porcupine. He says “touch me if you dare.” You have made him set his feet like a mule; and there, in the midst of evil deeds, dogged the perverse – while he pleases, he will stand. And he will please to stand while – you fret. You have made him blind. You made him deaf. And now you may show him truth, pure as the blush of morning; he will not hail it. You may show it to him, vivid as the lightening’s glare; he will not see it. You may peel it to him like the rolling of a thousand thunders; he will not hear it.

Now we may philosophize about this as we please. We may speculate, till we are gray – and lecture, till the season of our stewardship is spent – about the omnipotence of truth; but we cannot make one hair of this matter white or black. It still remains true an angered man is immovable. The omnipotence of Truth notwithstanding – no sinner, since the world has stood, has been converted from the error of his way, or his doctrine, in a passion. – And while the world standeth, no sinner will be. The passion must be subdued – even in the operations of Divine grace – or the truth fails. Wake it up – sustain it; and you have reared a wall of defense and defiance; a wall which must come down ere the citadel can be won.

Now, if fretting ourselves because of evil doers works mischief like this – mars our comfort – and others’ comfort – provokes us to bad deeds – and rouses in those against whom we fret a spirit which prevents their reform – we had better give it up; we had better forswear it forever. We had better hold the truth in righteousness, and “speak the truth in love.” [Ephesians 4:15] We had better – first of all – and last of all – “take heed to our spirits.” [Malachi 2:15]

3. But another reason; – fretting ourselves because of evil doers is unseemly.

It is becoming to feel towards those who do wrong, as Paul did towards his unbelieving “kinsmen according to the flesh;” [Romans 9:3] as Stephen did, when he prayed “Lay not this sin to their charge;” [Acts 7:60] as Jesus Christ did, when he wept over Jerusalem – when he cried “Father forgive them.” [Luke 23:34] But, that it is becoming to feel fretful, in the case, is what none can show.

But, take another view. When we get vexed at evil doers it is not because they abuse God, but because they abuse ourselves, or our fellow creatures. We do not fret at a man because he is unconverted, spiritually; but because he is somehow irregular, outwardly. I have never seen a man cross because his neighbor was not born again. But I have seen hundreds cross because their neighbors–born again, or not – transgressed the second table of the law. Now we ourselves are guilty of deeds more evil than our neighbor’s deeds which anger us. Perhaps we have not, like him, cheated in a bargain; or extorted usury; or sworn profanely; or enticed men to drunkenness; or held our fellow men in bondage; – but, we have done things worse – all of us; we do things worse, all of us, every day. We have done, and do things compared with which the deed of his we fret at, is as a mole hill to a mountain–as a bubble to a world–as a feather to a universe of lead. He wrongs his fellow creature–(for that is the only thing which frets us)–we wrong our God. He treads upon the claims of blood to blood–we, in every error of our lives and secret thoughts, upon those of matchless Grace, of pure redeeming Love.

True – our sin against God is no counterpoise to his against man. His sin is just as heavy and just as ill deserving as though we were sinless. It merits our abhorrence just as much. Our greater wickedness is no reason why we should like or justify his. But it is a reason why we should view his, and bear it too, – without wrath.

It does not become an evil doer to sit in haughty, angry, judgment upon an evil doer. It does not become one who has a beam in his own eye to scowl and chafe at the mote in his brother’s eye.

But–

4. To fret ourselves because of evil doers is wicked.

It is against the Bible. It is as truly disobedience of God as any other thing. It is as openly, as pointedly, disobedience of God. Has he forbidden idolatry? So he has, this. Has he forbidden oppression? So he has, this. Has he forbidden domestic broils–and fraud–and lying–and stealing–and adultery. So he has, this; just as decidedly, just as plainly.

If it be sin to disobey God in one thing–is it not, to disobey him in another? If it be sin to hold flesh and blood of man as chattels, so it is to fret ourselves because of him who does it. if it be sin to be a drunkard, so it is to be vexed against a drunkard. And which is the less and which the greater sin–to be an evil doer in this or that; or–to be an evil doer in fretting ourselves against an evil doer? Which is the least a disobedience of God; and which the most?

True– this fretfulness is natural. It is hard to avoid it. We slip into it unawares. We see the best of men indulge it. And sometimes it seems as though one could scarce do God service–briskly–without it. But all this weighs nothing, nothing, against–“Thus saith the Lord.” “Therefore–thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever though art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself–for thou that judgest, doest the same things.” Thou who frettest against  an evil doer, and he–alike and equally–disobey God.

Another thing will illustrate this sin. What would be your thoughts, and what, your emotions, should I tell you that our Savior used, at times, to foam with passion against evil doers in his day, as you have seen his professed disciples do in yours? You would start at it as blasphemy. Why? If it be not a sin thus to feel toward the wicked–why?

But take another test; for the matter in hand is worth it. –The influence of petulance towards the wicked upon devotion shows it to be a sin. Any feeling which is wrong prevents our access to God. We must first smooth down our ruffled spirits before we can commune at the mercy seat. –Now how is it with an angry, peevish spirit toward the wicked? Does it help, or hinder, prayer? While we are in the heat–are we ready for the communion of our closets–or not? A certain writer answer the question. He says–“prayer is the daughter of charity and the sister of meekness; and he that prays to God in an angry spirit, “is like him who retires into a battle to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out quarters of an enemy, “and chooses a frontier garrison to be wise in. anger is a perfect alienation of the mind from prayer; “and–is contrary to the attention which presents our prayers in a right line to Heaven. For so have I seen “a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hops to get to heaven, “and climb above the clouds. But the poor bird was beaten back by the loud sighings of an eastern wind, “and his motion made irregular and inconstant; descending more, at every breath of the tempest, than “he could recover by the libration and frequent weighings of his wings; till  the little creature was forced “to sit down and pant, and stay till the storm was over; and then–it made a prosperous flight and it did “rise and sing as if it had learned music and motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the “air, about his ministries here below.

“So is the prayer of a good man, when anger raises a tempest and overcomes him. Then his prayer was “broken, and his thoughts were troubled, and his words went up towards a cloud; and his thoughts “pulled them back against, and made them without intention. And the good man sighs for his infirmity; “but he must be content to lose his prayer; and he must recover it when his anger is removed, and his “spirit is becalmed, and made even as the brow of Jesus, and smooth like the heart of God: and then is “ascends to heaven upon the wings of the holy dove, and dwells with God, till it returns like the useful “bee, laden with a blessing and the dew of heaven.”

Surely, then, if fretfulness be disobedience of God; if it be contrary to the spirit of our great Example; if it spoil the hours of our closet devotion; there is something wrong about it. It is wicked to be vexed at the ill-behavior of others; as verily wicked as the evil we fret at.

 

Brethren beloved–there is reason why we should guard ourselves against this sin. Fretting is in vogue. We see it. We hear it–every day. We are tempted to it every day. And, truly, we ought to watch against and resist the temptation–because, God has forbidden the thing–; because, it is unseemly; –because it does much hurt and no good.

In times past we have been guilty. Not one of us but has lost his temper; more or less. Somebody has been lax, and somebody else has been ultra, on some subject of practical moment; and it has made us fretful. Some school boy has been a rogue; some vixen in our families has molested us; some sharper has over-reached us in trade; some canting tyro in politics, or religion, or morals, has aspersed our integrity; silly dupes have gulped the libel; and we–have been nettled about it. –Verily, verily, we have been guilty.

Brethren–suppose we should do better. Suppose we should cleave to the Bible in this matter. Suppose we should mind God. Come–let the past suffice, and more than suffice wherein we have fretted ourselves because of evil doers. In our families, in our streets, in our church meetings, in our enterprises of moral reform, never let us fret ourselves. If heretics and sinners, publicans and Pharisees, thwart us and throw dirt at us–by scores–by thousands–let us never fret. Should the world grow ten times as wicked; should Satan come down with tenfold wrath; nay–should the church of the living God–the family of our espousal and vows, of our hope and love–apostatize; should priest and people go and do abominations, together, on the altar of Belial–whatever else we do, let us never prostitute our own integrity; never let us allow ourselves in a fretful, snarlish temper.

Let us abjure it. Root and branch, let us expel it. We shall be the better. We shall be the happier. We shall die the easier. We shall love each other the more. We shall do the more–a deal more–toward the conviction and reform of evil doers. It would be so strange a thing, if only you and I should look upon the wickedness, and bear the buffetings of evil doers, without ill humor–why! The wicked would suspect us, Christians; and–by the contrast–themselves, sinners. But, however this might be, life would be another thing to us. Our food would be sweeter; our sleep, better; our sunshine, brighter. Our fellowship would be heartier; our pilgrimage, smoother; and the evening twilight of our days, softer.

Brethren–brethren–remember these words–“fret not thyself because of evil doers.” And, remember, THEY ARE GOD’S WORDS. He gave them–to be obeyed. If you care for his approval; if you value the peace which he giveth; if you covet the refreshing dews of his grace–obey his word. “Be not overcome of evil; but overcome evil with good.” “He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city.”

 

The Sermon on the Mount Carl Bloch, 1890

Sermon – Fasting – 1841, New York

An

Oration

 

On the Occasion

Of the National Fast;

Delivered Before The

Academy of Sacred Music,

In the Broadway Tabernacle, New York,

On Friday Evening, May 14, 1841.

 

New York:

Office of the Iris, 647 Broadway,

John S. Taylor & Co., 145 Nassau Street.

1841.

 

 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841,

By George H. Houghton,

In the Clerks Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York.

 

Piercy & Reed, Printers, 9 Spruce St.

 

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The introductory remarks of this Address have reference to two things which may be here more distinctly presented. The one is, those widely-circulated notices of the meeting, on the evening of the Fast Day, which were intended to indicate the subject of the Address. This is their form: “Rev. E. N. Kirk will deliver an Eulogy on the Death of the late President Harrison.” These notices are alluded to here, both because of the blunder they contain, and for the wrong impression they were calculated to make. The author of the Oration is not responsible for their awkward use of language, in speaking of an Eulogy on Death, where they meant to promise an Eulogy on the President. And moreover, although the personal qualities of that great and good man are incidentally introduced, yet the discourse was in no way designed to be, nor, we think, can it properly be designated, an Eulogy. The other allusion is to the fears of many excellent persons, that the Academy of Sacred Music would give a secular character to the latter part of a day designed to be as sacred as the Sabbath. Nothing was farther from their desires, nor from those of the speaker. Whether the fears were well or ill-founded, must be determined by those who heard, and by those who now may read.

E.N.K.

 

Address

The specialty of the case may justify a preliminary remark. Many who desire to see this day and its rites so observed as to meet the Divine approbation, and secure the greatest degree of the Divine blessing, have feared that the present exercise might strike and discordant not, and disturb the plaintive harmony of the nation’s dirge. It is of course manifest that we do not participate in this fear. Nor should it be alluded to here, did it not furnish us a good occasion for introducing the fact, that the general estimate of Sacred Music is too low. If the fear is founded upon the notice that there was to be a Concert and an Eulogy on the Death of General Harrison, we are not surprised at it. A Concert given in reality for the public amusement, but calling itself “sacred,” were as ill-timed and sacrilegious, as it were unfair toward those places of professedly secular amusement, which, in deference to public sentiment, have this night closed their doors.

And again; it were as much a violation of good taste, as of religious propriety, to devote the hours of such a day to an “Eulogy on Death,” as your advertisements have it, or an Eulogy on our departed chieftain, as your advertisements partly state and partly imply.

And yet again; if he, who knows not this Academy, nor its principles, aims, and practice, presumes that its members are not acquainted with the true nature of Sacred Music, and its relations to such occasions as the present, and therefore fears that the holy art will be perverted, and the holy season desecrated, we need no other vindication than the exercises of this evening.

But if the fear alluded to, implies that Sacred Music should not occupy the hours of such a day, then we must be indulged in our brief plea. And it is altogether based upon this fact, that the elements of Sacred Music; sacred poetry expressed by appropriate melody and harmony, have not on earth a more appropriate sphere than that which we here assign them.

A nation is mourning its bereavement in mutual condolence! A nation is mourning its sins in lowly prostration before the offended Deity! The active stir of business is suspended, the voice of mirth is hushed, the face of beauty is veiled, the steps of millions hasten tremblingly to the house of prayer – the honorable and the base are gathered in the temples of mercy – ten thousand supplicating voices are raising their imploring cry, “Spare, O Lord, thy people; give not thy heritage to reproach” – the strength of the nation is feebleness before God, lofty looks are bowed, and proud spirits are contrite – intellect, the heart, the will of a free and mighty people lies low before the mighty Governor of the Universe. He has taken away our staff and our strength; He has removed the stay in which we trusted; and thus cast the nation upon his own naked arm; and we are made to feel an awful nearness to the Omnipotent. He has taken away the veil which hid Him and His authority from our unbelieving eyes; and a sinful people seem to be ushered unanointed into the presence where angels tremble, and archangels veil their faces! Well may we weep. We do weep. The voice of lamentation is wafted like the sigh of the summer wind from the Northern Lakes to the Southern Gulf, from the Atlantic Sea to the Rocky Mountains. It is in the presence of Death we are weeping. We had but just rejoiced as a nation. Part of us had honestly opposed the choice; but the choice once made, patriotism carried it over party, and the man of the North West became the man of the country. Never since the first days of the republic, had there been such enthusiasm on the accession of a Chief Magistrate. The heart of the people has honestly, profoundly glad; but scarcely had the excessive, nay, the idolatrous congratulations ceased, ere the whisper of fear began to spread; the sun had barely lifted his cheering disk upon our horizon, ere a dark cloud was drawn toward it by a mighty and invisible hand. The people trembled, they supplicated; but the decree had gone forth; the mercy that would save us from total ruin, arrested us kindly, though sternly; it gathered us around a vacated throne, a pallid corpse, a silent grace, and changed the voice of joy into lamentation; that amid blasted hopes and broken hearts, we might pause to “hear the voice of the rod and him who appointed it.”

Death is always formidable to man as an inhabiter of time and an inheritor of this lovely planet, so full of God’s bounty. We are loth to part from familiar scenes; we are by instinct tenacious of life. And when we see any fellow-creature die, we start as from a spectral hand that writes our own doom. But when death strikes a high mark; when it treads unrelenting upon hopes and hearts, breaks through the life guard of the throne, and despises the supplicating millions; our terror is enhanced. It has entered our palace; it has conquered our unvanquished defender; it has dimmed the eye that watched only for his country’s welfare; it has closed the ear that was quick to a nation’s complaint, and open to the cry of the needy; it has chilled the heart that throbbed with paternal love over the people that called him father; it has palsied that hand, so honestly, so honorably pledged to defend the Constitution, and to execute the laws. As was said of the death of the great Maccabeus, so may we say here: “At the first tidings of this dreadful accident, all the cities of Judah were moved, streams of tears flowed from the eyes of all their inhabitants. They were struck for a time, dumb, immoveable. An effort of grief at length breaking this long and sad silence, with a voice interrupted by sobbings, that sadness, pity and fear are wringing from their hearts, they exclaimed, ‘How is this mighty fallen, he who saved the people of Israel!’ At these cries Jerusalem redoubled her wailings; the vaults of the temple trembled, the Jordan was troubled, and all its banks echoed the sound of these mournful words: ‘How is the mighty fallen, that saved the people of Israel.’”

Yes, the nation feels; and to express her feeling, behold this day of fasting and prayer! Yes, America, “Atheistical America,” who has no national church, no national creed, no national clergy; America is now in the dust before her God. To our friends and to our foes in Europe, who ask, Where is your religion? We reply, Behold it! With you it may be form the state policy to appoint and observe a fast. But with us, none can doubt that it is a genuine expression of public sentiment. Here is no pageant, no pomp, no royal patronage to encourage our piety. It is a free people invited by a man who has and who wishes no other authority than such as the people have given him, to meet the chastisement of our common Father. And we have done it. We have done it, because we recognized that God has afflicted us, and that for our sins. Such is the object of this day and of its exercises. But what can more appropriately enter into the design of this day, than penitential song? It is answer enough to this, to refer to the dirges and elegies of Jeremiah and David. Whether then we contemplate this fast as an expression of true grief or as an act of homage and worship toward a God holy, and yet inclined to forgive the penitent; Sacred Music is a most desirable auxiliary in our solemn public exercises.

But we leave the vindication, and enter more directly upon the designs of this day. In the expressive language of the prophet, we have paused to “hear the rod and him who hath appointed it.” This day has reference to the past and the future. The rod is upon us, and it speaks to us of the sins which is rebukes; and it hath another voice, lessons are rich, varied, most important, nay, indispensable. America, O America! My dear, my native land, hear the voice of the Lord! Americans, my countrymen, shall we not hear this voice; shall we fail to profit by these lessons? Shall we not become better observers of Providence, and commune more closely with Him “in whom we live and move, and have our being?”

The Voice of the Rod

 1. We are learning our dependence on God. Nation after nation, for nearly six thousand years, has been trying to obtain prosperity independently of the favor of Jehovah. The experiment has been fairly made; made under every variety of circumstances. But no one nation has ever yet truly prospered, and answered the true and obvious ends of the social state; because no nation, not even the Jewish, has yet governed itself permanently and faithfully by the will, and under the supreme authority of Jehovah. And hence the most of them have run a career of ambition, crime, and luxury, to dreadful and utter ruin; while others have remained in a state of stagnant, though sometimes splendid barbarism. America sees the open page of history spread before her. Infidelity and Christianity are both expounding it to here, each in its own way. The one says– no, it was simply and solely because they cast off the fear of God.

The political and diplomatic errors which led immediately to their destruction, had their origin in national impiety. The universe waits to see to which Instructor the young republic will accord its faith. Untold and unborn millions await this decision. The exercises of this day ministers of Christ feel as they do feel, their souls pressed with unusual responsibilities. May the Spirit of the Lord be our aid.

The holy oracles proclaim that Jehovah ruleth among the armies of heaven, and doeth his pleasure among the inhabitants of the earth; that it is he who lifts up, and he who casts down. This was believed by our fathers. But the Atheism of the European illuminati rolled its pernicious waves over us soon after the revolution; and we have had many manifestations of that Skepticism which denies to the Son of God the supreme control of human affairs. What, through our dullness, the sacred oracles failed to teach, He has been teaching by the rod of His chastisement. And the lessons have not been in vain.

I select a single specimen of the tone of the secular press in our country, in reference to this fast; a tone to us full of promise for our country:

 “National Fast.– We hope to see evidence that the occasion of the National Fast will not have passed by as a mere formality. We hope to see proofs that the National Heart can be touched by the spirit of devotion.

“It is nearly time that this and other Nations, professing to be Christian, should break some of the links in the base chain that binds them to the foot-stool of Belial, Moloch and Mammon. The spirit of avarice especially should be crushed. It is in this country a whirlpool that is engulphing all, with hardly an exception. The base pursuit of gain, with little regard to the honesty of the means, has become the disgrace of some of those most eminent for intellect, and heretofore highest in public estimation.

“We hope that by divine co-operation the hearts of our countrymen will be ‘touched to finer issues.’ For we are sure that a mere money-loving and money-seeking nation, must sink under the enervating indulgences, which the sordid spirit brings in its train.”

“Then look at the frequency with which the most enormous crimes are perpetrated; the frauds, embezzlements, defalcations, and forgeries, which greet our ears on every side; the prevalence of Sabbath-breaking, intemperance and profaneness, (though in these particulars we hope there has been some amelioration of late.) Look too at the delicate sate of foreign relations. How easily, by an unfortunate turn of affairs, –by the occurrence of some ‘untoward’ event, –may we become involved in a bloody and protracted war! Now these accidents, as we call them, are entirely within the control of the Being before whom if, as individuals, we look at our personal demerit in the sight of the Holy One, surely, taking all these things into account, and a thousand more which will suggest themselves to the reflecting mind, we shall find reason enough for setting apart, as a nation, one day for fasting, humiliation, and prayer.”

 From the Spring of 1837 to the present day, there has been a powerful tendency of the public mind back toward the recognition of a minutely superintending Providence Events which human prudence would not foresee nor provide against, indicated the movings of an invisible hand, and suggested the counsellings of a Superior Will; blow followed blow, cloud came after cloud, until the close of the last political campaign. Then hope revived; and confidence was returning. The country had chosen a tried man, a man whom his enemies opposed, not from personal, but political considerations; who had, in fact, no enemies but such as envy made. There he sat, calm at the helm, inspiring new confidence in our institutions, new hopes for our country. The Lord saw it, and saw that we had not yet learned where to put our trust. And again; the pressure of his hand must be felt. The rod is therefore upon us. It teaches us, that while political sagacity has its sphere, and that a very important one; yet, after all, there remains so many occult which modify and baffle all his plans and enterprises, that man in his very philosophy ought to seek for a sure director of those unseen influences, those hidden but mighty powers, determine the fate of empires. My countrymen – God is teaching us that He reigns over us, that his favor is life. We must learn that lesson, or perish. We must learn to recognize, to fear, to obey, to trust, to supplicate God, who has revealed himself in his Word. We had in the late President all that we can ask in a Chief Magistrate of a Constitutional Government. He met the wants of our hearts as well as those of our judgments; and therefore we loved as well as trusted him. Probably there is scarcely the man living who combines, both in his history and character, so many of the qualifications that office requires. He was evidently fitted of God for the station and its responsible duties. He had the practical talents for governing, which are more needed there than in any other office of the republic. All this has been proved by incontestable evidence. Through a space of at least twenty years, he was called upon to act in the varied character of Commissioner to the Indians, Secretary of the Territory, Legislator, Commander in Chief, and Governor. Here he displayed all those practical talents, that purity of purpose, that knowledge of men, of public affairs, of the principles of government, which his last station demands. He had, in fact been remarkably trained amid the horrors of the border- warfare, the difficulties of treating with the treacherous savage, and the rude settler. But as he rose from station to station, he became more and more the very shield and pillar of that whole North- Western Territory. By treaty he procured the right of the soil, by the prowess of his arm he defended it, by the wisdom of his counsels he governed it. There were times when the Indians renewed their bloody system of border-warfare. Once, shortly after the battle of Tippecanoe, they commenced their depredations on the borders of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, at points so far distant from each other, as to distract public attention and create a universal panic. As the murders became more frequent, and more aggravated by the cruelties which attended their perpetration, the alarm scene of dismay and suffering; the labors of husbandry were suspended, families deserted their homes and sought safety in flight, and Governor Harrison found himself surrounded by fugitives claiming protection, and by sufferers demanding vengeance. There his patriotism and capacity and energy were called into full exercise. The country was put into the best posture for defense, the enemy was met at every point where his approach could be anticipated, and the defenseless inhabitants owed their safety, under God, to his well directed energies. Of his integrity, it is enough to state, that after having had more power than many an eastern prince, over men’s persons and property, more opportunity to enrich himself in appropriating the best lands of the world; by one treaty alone, securing fifty-one million acres of the richest country in the West, and the most valuable mineral region in the Union, he lived and died poor, and that not from prodigality, but integrity. He never used his immense power and influence to procure stations for his own relatives, if we except his private Secretary. And soon after his resignation in the army, while the wants of a large family were pressing upon him, he made up his mind to ask an appointment for one of his sons in West Point. But before he had done it, a poor boy, a neighbor’s child, made a personal application to the General, to secure him a place in the Institution. He immediately waived the application for his son, and procured a place for this poor lad, who is now a distinguished citizen of Indiana. Who can doubt the integrity of that man! Equally strong was his sense of honor, which was to the country a pledge that merit, and not favoritism nor party-interests, would secure the places of trust. A political opponent, who had known him for forty years, said: “General Harrison never had a particle of dishonesty about him; he was honest in politics, honest in religion, honest in everything.” His benevolence which is the antagonist of ambition. There has been much reproach cast upon our government in regard to the Indians; but he who becomes familiar with General Harrison’s history, will not make the charge of cruelty without many and strong qualifications. Harrison was a warrior; and there may have been a mingling of that selfish love of military renown which leads many to enlist cheerfully in the work of blood. But every step of his military career indicates the contrary in his case. Let the historian speak here for a moment: “On the morning of the 27t, the final embarkation of the army on Lake Erie, commenced. The sun shone in all his autumnal beauty, and a gently breeze hastened onward the ships to that shore, on which , it was anticipated, the banner of our country would have to be planted amid the thunder of British arms and the yells of ferocious Indians. While moving over the bosom of the lake–every eye enchanted with the magnificence of the scene, and every heart panting for the coming opportunity of avenging their country’s wrongs, –the beloved commander-in-chief caused the following address to be delivered to his army:

‘The General entreats his brave troops to remember that they are the sons of sires whose fame is immortal; that they are to fight for the rights of their insulted country, while their opponents combat for the unjust pretensions of a master. Kentuckians! Remember the river Raisen; but remember it only, whilst victory is suspended. The revenge of a soldier cannot be gratified upon a fallen enemy.’” The latter sentiment characterized all his military operations, even with the savage tribes. He never drew his sword but for his country and for liberty. It was fiery rampart to our exposed frontier; but it blazed only for defense. And in alluding to his qualifications, we speak once more of his simplicity of character and manner. One who knew him wells, says: “in personal address and manners, he was the very man to be popular in a republican government. He was no aristocrat in democratic disguise; but, a people’s man, he went among the people in the people’s dress, and with the people’s manners.  Though President of the United States, any one could see him even from sunrise in the morning. He had a native courteousness united with the ease and dignity of a Virginia republican. His countenance was goodness, honesty, frankness, and disinterestedness. His eye was emphatically “the light of his body,” a soft, sparkling eye–dark, but gently; and though gentle, full of fire. Mildness and energy were hardly ever more beautifully blended.” Another says, “he was condescending. The poor and illiterate found as ready access to him as the great and learned. Even the children were at home with him, and none but the guilty were embarrassed in his presence.” His views of agriculture, as presented in an address delivered ten years ago, are so entirely accordant with the spirit of our institutions, so utterly opposed to this office-seeking, money-grasping spirit, that now infects the youth of our nation; and at the same time these views are so strongly descriptive of the simplicity and purity of his character, that you will bear their introduction here. “The encouragement of agriculture, gentlemen, would be praiseworthy in any country; in our own it is peculiarly so. Not only to multiply the means and enjoyments of life but as giving greater stability and security to our political institutions. In all ages and in all countries, it has been observed, that the cultivators of the soil, are those who were least willing to part with their rights, and submit themselves to the will of a master. I have no doubt, also that a taste of agricultural pursuits, is the best means of disciplining the ambition of those daring spirits, who occasionally spring up in the world, for good or for evil, to defend or to destroy the liberties of their fellow-men, as the principles received from education or circumstances may tend. As long as the leaders of the Roman armies were taken from the plough, to the plough they were willing to return. Never in the character of General, forgetting the duties of the citizen, and ever ready to exchange the sword and the triumphal purple, for the homely vestments of the husbandman.

The history of that far-famed republic is full of instances of this kind; but none more remarkable than our own age and country have produced. The fascinations of power and the trappings of command were as much despised, and the enjoyment of rural scenes and rural employments as highly prized, by our Washington, as by Cincinnatus or Regulus. At the close of his glorious military career, he says, ‘I am preparing to return to that domestic retirement, which, it is well known, I left with the deepest regret, and for which I have not ceased to sigh through a long and painful absence. Your efforts, gentlemen, to diffuse a taste for agriculture amongst men of all descriptions and professions, may produce results more important than increasing the means of subsistence, and the enjoyments of life. It may cause some future conqueror for his country, to end his career,

“Guiltless of his country’s blood.”

Such views in our day are of incalculable importance and you will excuse their introduction while I am showing what we have lost, in losing such a man. And you will allow one other feature of his character to be mentioned; his patriotism. He was born of a race that have distinguished themselves as lovers of liberty. As far back as Charles I, we find a Harrison, boldly condemning to the scaffold a monarch who as much violated the law of his country, as any murderer does. The father of our hero was signer of the Declaration of Independence, who nobly ceded the Speaker’s chair to Hancock, seizing the modest candidate in his athletic arms, placing him in the chair, and then exclaiming to the members, –“we will show Mother Britain how little we care for her, by making a Massachusetts man our President, whom she has excluded from pardon by a public proclamation.” Such was the descent of General Harrison. He was born and bred in the very school of Washington, and Adams, and Madison. And through the long course of almost half a century, that he was in his country’s service, not an act, not a word, can be adduced that indicates that he preferred anything to the welfare of his country, and the permanence of her institutions. His time, his property, his domestic comfort, the temporal welfare of his family, his life, his fortune, his sacred honor, were laid on his country’s altar; and his dying breath uttered the sentiment, that next to the fear of God, had lain deepest and most cherished in his heart, as it had been the main-spring of his wonderfully active, and efficient, and protracted career– “I wish you to understand the true principles of the government– I wish them carried out– I ask nothing more.” Yes, departed sage, horseman of Israel and the chariot thereof; they shall be carried out, and the last earthly wish of thy noble heart shall be gratified! And in his statement of the principles on which he would govern the country, we have an exhibition of the apparent importance of his presence at the helm of State.

“Among the principles proper to be adopted by any Executive sincerely desirous to restore the administration to its original simplicity and purity, I deem the following to be of prominent importance:

I.        To confine his service to a single term.

II.      To disclaim all right of control over the public treasure, with the exception of such part of it as may be appropriated by law to carry on the public services, and that to be applied precisely as the law may direct, and drawn from the treasury agreeably to the long established principles of that department.

III.    That he should never attempt to influence the elections, either by the people or the state legislatures, nor suffer the federal officers under his control to take any other part in them than by giving their own votes, when they possess the right of voting.

IV.    That in the exercise of the veto power, he should limit his rejection of bills to–1. Such as are, in his opinion, unconstitutional. 2. Such as tend to encroach on the rights of the states or individuals. 3. Such as involving deep interests, may, in his opinion, require more deliberation or reference to the will of the people, to be ascertained at succeeding elections.

V.      That he should never suffer the influence of his office to be used for purposes of a purely party character.

VI.    That in removals from office of those who hold their appointments during the pleasure of the Executive, the cause of such removal should be stated, if requested, to the Senate, at the time the nomination of the successor is made.

VII.  That he should not suffer the Executive department of the Government to become the source of legislation; but leave the whole business of making laws for the Union to the department to which the Constitution has exclusively assigned it, until they have assumed that perfected shape when and where alone the opinions of the Executive may be heard.”

 These are the principles which we had fondly hoped he was going to carry out and execute. To us, they seem inseparable from the dignity of that high office, essential to the healthful action of our political system.  With such an exposition made by such a man, we rejoiced to see him going up to the highest place of power and trust.

Such was General Harrison, considered in reference to the qualifications for the Presidential chair. And such is our loss. But it is the Lord who qualified him, who gave him and who has taken him. Hear then, mourning nation, the voice of the rod. It proclaims our complete, our incessant dependence on a sovereign God. Today let it be engraven on the heart of this people, and let them tell it to their children’s children; that “His dominion is an everlasting dominion, and all the people of the earth are reputed as nothing; and he doeth according to His will in the army of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth.”

2. The dealings of Providence bring to our view our national and personal sins. This blow is but one of a series. The history of the last six years recounts the resources of the Almighty hand, when he means to visit a nation for its sins–fires, storms, disease, wrecks, perplexity, fear, murderers, rumors of war, heart-burnings, volcanic and subterranean thunderings of party strife–public distrust created by an unparalleled series of public frauds, and the breach of the public faith; these have been the inflictions superadded to ordinary inflictions, and to which the vain heart of man pays too little heed. And all these chastisements seemed to have, through our obstinacy, one defect as chastisements; they did not strike suddenly enough, nor with a sufficiently general effect, to make the nation comprehend their meaning. So this last was sent, and may it be the last? This has a two-fold efficacy–it strikes the nation like an electric shock. Probably there was not a hamlet within the broad domain of our empire, in which the cry was not heard in less than one week from its occurrence–the President is dead. And it came too just in the height and heat of the nation’s enthusiasm. Just when they would feel it most, and when the spirit of man-worship was in its most lusty stage. God lifted him up to a nation’s admiration; but at the same time held up the decree– “this day have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion; be wise, now therefore, O ye kings, and be instructed, O ye judges of the earth; serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry.” The space of one short month was given, that like Nineveh we might repent and avert the impending blow. But we repented not, and the rod fell. All our sins are comprehended in this one of rejecting Christ. And all our national sins are personal sins. And the appropriate spirit and employment of this day, is the review of our personal transgressions, and the putting away of our individual atheism and unbelief, our disregard of the supremacy of Christ, and of his precious gospel. He is the true patriot, who this day carries a broken heart to his closet, and mourns over his own and our people’s sins; our worldliness and love of money, our party-spirit, our profanation of the Sabbath, our lewdness and profaneness, our neglect of the Bible and of prayer. “Kiss the Son,” as our Sovereign and your Savior, and let your entire influence be henceforth devoted to securing to him the faith, the homage and the praises of the nation. Let us repent and bring forth fruits meet for repentance. Let the ministry lay aside its sins, the country, the President, the Cabinet, the Law-makers, the Judges, the Princes, and the People all bow down this day before an offended God, and seeking the aids of his grace, promise new obedience to Him who was exalted, in order that to Him every knee might bow and every tongue confess that He is Lord, to the glory of the Father.

3. Let us learn that we must die, and how to die. The dispensation that now afflicts us, impresses on our minds two great realities; – that we must die; and, that personal piety is the only and the essential preparation for that great change. I doubt, if any event in our history has ever called forth so cordial, so extensive and impressive an expression of the genuine conviction of our country. It is remarkable, how earnestly the secular journals have echoed the question–was our noble friend prepared for the great change? And it is as remarkable how full, and how satisfactory an answer Providence is giving to that inquiry. The nation is treasuring up his doings and sayings; but none give such relief to the burdened heart, as those which show him a penitent suppliant for mercy at the foot of the cross. And he did bow there, we fully believe. For several years the claims of his Savior, and the interests of his own soul had been objects of supreme importance in his view. And his were no superficial views of piety as consisting in belonging to a particular sect, or rendering a respectful homage to Christianity in general. He regarded the gospel as designed to penetrate and renovate the heart. He said to a clergyman, “I like your views of repentance; genuine sorrow, humble confession, and a forsaking of sin, are the only things that can bring peace to the sinner, or make him a better man–“How beautifully,” said he, “is the gospel adapted to the wants of the world. God must love the penitent more than the sinless, and the forgiven penitent must love God more than those who never sinned.” And in a full accordance with our views of the nature and intent of the rite, he intended to celebrate the love of his Savior at the sacramental supper. But the facts are before the nation; he loved the Bible, the Sabbath, the ministry, the cause of evangelical religion. His message, penned in the chamber where maternal piety taught his infant lips to lisp the Lord’s prayer, presents to the nation his sense of our dependence upon the power and favor of God.

Let the nation now gather around his silent tomb. By the fresh grave let our young men learn to die. We ask the infidel there; what do you find despicable in piety? Did it make Harrison less intelligent, less energetic, less upright, less patriotic? Let the soul consumed by the feverish thirst of wealth stand there and think of one whose character was never tainted by the foul passion, one who had chosen the good part that can never be taken from him. Let the ambitious pause in his career, and see whether honors are worth so much, when they may be enjoyed so briefly, snatched away so suddenly, so early; whether it is best to sell the soul and gain the world.

Let the friend of his country there see that just what we need in our rulers, is, that conscientiousness and disinterestedness which piety creates. He had the godliness which is profitable for the life that is, and for that which to come.

“It is appointed unto men once to die; and after that, the judgment.” Fellow citizens, are you prepared for judgment? Could his voice be heard amidst us again, think you it would teach you to disregard the mercy of God and to despise his anger? Oh no; my countrymen, no. Pause, pause, he would say; pause ere you rush into the holy presence where my soul is now standing in holy fear and rapture. Young men, cease to struggle for party and for power. Political men, cease your schemes of vain ambition. Where are my laurels now? Behold them already withered in the tomb. Where is the power and glory of my envied elevation? Evaporated by one breath of disease. Where is my soul? Here, where no political party no military renown, no classic lore, no national gratitude, no personal worth, has raised me; but that grace of Christ to which I fled, as a perishing sinner. Living, I would have labored for your temporal good, and I would have labored for your temporal good, and I would have shewn you an imperfect though honest example of obedience to Christ. But that was not permitted me. To my emancipated spirit, it is only permitted to utter one word more of counsel. It is this–“Be ye also ready.”