Samuel F.B. Morse – “What Hath God Wrought!”

Samuel Finley Breese (F.B.) Morse (1791-1872) is best remembered for being the inventor of the American telegraph system and the Morse Code alphabet which is still widely used today. It was his development and perfection of an instantaneous method of electronic communication over long distances which contributed to the rapid expansion of the West during the late 1800’s and laid the groundwork for today’s 24/7 mass media culture.

Something which history widely forgets today about Morse’s great inventions, however, is the role God played throughout the process. Educated on religious matters from birth by his father, the notable Rev. Jedidiah Morse, Samuel developed a deep and sincere faith in God. In the two volume work, Samuel F.B. Morse: His Letters and Journals, his own son describes the inventor’s character:

The dominant note was an almost childlike religious faith; a triumphant trust in the goodness of God even when his hand was wielding the rod; a sincere belief in the literal truth of the Bible, which may seem strange to us of the twentieth century; a conviction that he was destined in some way to accomplish a great good for his fellow men.

Next to love of God came love of country. He was patriotic in the best sense of the word. While abroad he stoutly upheld the honor of his native land, and at home he threw himself with vigor into the political discussions of the day, fighting stoutly for what he considered the right….

A favorite Bible quotation of his was “Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you.” He deeply deplored the necessity of making enemies, but he early in his career became convinced that no man could accomplish anything of value in this world without running counter either to the opinions of honest men, who were as sincere as he, or to the self-seeking of the dishonest and the unscrupulous.1

Morse’s pious character clearly exhibits itself in the historic message relayed during the public demonstration of the telegraph on May 24, 1844. Morse had promised Annie Ellsworth, the daughter of the Commissioner of Patents that she would get to decide what would be said. After talking with her mother, Annie decided to send a portion from Numbers 23:23: “What hath God wrought!”

Early that morning, Morse and his guests gathered in the chamber of the Supreme Court while his assistant prepared to receive the fateful transmission in Baltimore. Then, at 8:45 a.m. on May 24, 1844, the electricity flowed through the line:

| . – – | . . . . | . – | – |
|   W       H      A    T |

| . . . . | . – | – | . . . . |
|   H      A    T     H   |

| – – . | . . | – . . |
|   G     O     D    |

| . – – | . . . | . . | . . – | – – . | . . . . | – |
|    W       R     O    U       G       H     T |

That message inaugurated the beginning of electronic media in America, setting off a chain of technological advancements which continues to this day nearly two-hundred years later. From the telegraph to the telephone to the internet, we all have good reason to declare, “What hath God wrought!”

Samuel Morse never forgot the role that God had in the development and success of the telegraph, always bearing in mind the powerful phrase selected by Annie Ellsworth. Later in life Morse explained that the telegraph was not merely an example of American ingenuity, but rather an example of God’s gracious providence:

Yet in tracing the birth and pedigree of the modern Telegraph, ‘American’ is not the highest term of the series that connects the past with the present; there is at least one higher term, the highest of all, which cannot and must not be ignored. If not a sparrow falls to the ground without a definite purpose in the plans of infinite wisdom, can the creation of an instrumentality so vitally affecting the interests of the whole human race have an origin less humble than the Father of every good and perfect gift?

I am sure I have the sympathy of such an assembly as is here gathered if, in all humility and in the sincerity of a grateful heart, I use the words of inspiration in ascribing honor and praise to Him whom first of all and most of all it is preeminently due. ‘Not unto us, not unto us, but to God be all the glory.’ Not what hath man, but ‘What hath God wrought?’2

The WallBuilders’ Library is home to a handwritten letter from Samuel Morse composed in 1836, a full eight years before the triumph of the telegraph. In this personal letter to Miss Mary Pattison we get a glimpse into artistic side Morse’s mind through the portions of poetry he records, which also exhibit his deep devotion to God. Below is the transcript of the WallBuilders’ letter followed by pictures of the document itself.


Miss Mary Pattison, Troy

New York, Sept. 14th, 1836

My dear friend Mary,

I comply with my promise and send you the lines which I wrote a few years ago for an Album in the possession of a young lady on the North river. If you remember I was struck with the train of thought a Mr. Adams’ piece in Mr. Taylor’s Album, and told you, that I had embodied the same thought, or nearly resembling it. I had it not in my memory, but this morning in searching my desk I found them and transcribe them for you.

What’s our Life but an Album fair
Outwardly deck’d with gilding name
With many leaves of white within
Where virtue writes, but oft’mes sin
With many leaves all written o’er
While every day turns one leaf more?
This breathes the hopes of younger years
That tells of sorrows and of fears.
Black eaves between Where naught has been
But blots perchance of Folly’s pen
And some remain, (at most but few,)
Where Sin will write: Shall Virtue too?
Yield then thy pen to God to draw
On the next leaf his perfect law
To when thy book of life is done
Cleans’d by the blood of God’s own son
From Sin’s dark blots, and Folly’s stain
A purer volume shall remain
And rest, (to Grace a splendid prize,)
In Heaven’s alcoves in the skies.

The moral is better than the poetry, you may destroy if you will the latter, but cherish the former.

I don’t know whether I am better for my last visit to Troy. My pleasure of your house was in excess, and like all excess is producing a corresponding depression. Your lovely sister is a most destructive enemy of one’s peace, and the worst of it is that she is innocently cruel. She wounds, yet knows it not. Well, Happiness, happiness to her, and to you all. Tell Catharine I am expecting my Philippina. I am wishing time away until the 1st of October.

I send by this opportunity some “Sketches” which were popular when they were published, I don’t know whether they were copied into the Troy papers. You will find in them where you have an idle hour, some of the incidents more in detail, which I told you verbally.

Remember I hold you all engaged for the Commencement of the University, in the first week of October.

With sincere regard,
Affectionately your friend & servant
Sam. F.B. Morse

I have just met with another trifle, which since I am in the mood of transcribing I send for Catherine’s album. It was written at the request of a young lady, who asked me to write something for her. I consented if she would give me a subject. She gave me the word “Farewell.”

Farewell! Farewell? No ‘tis a word of earth
A fraud seen there, ‘tis not of heavenly birth.
It wishes joy, yet instant clouds the ray
And give the pang, it feigns to take away.
Let not so false a word, thy tongue ‘ere tell
If well then wish thy friends, say not farewell.



1 Edward Lind Morse, Samuel F.B. Morse: His Letters and Journals (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1914), I:438-439.

2 Edward Lind Morse, Samuel F.B. Morse: His Letters and Journals (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1914), Vol. II, 472.

united states flag

America’s National Anthem

On March 3rd, 1931, an Act of Congress made the Star Spangled Banner America’s national anthem. So, in celebration of this important event, we invite you to study the song and the reason it was written.

Following the American Revolution, Americans hoped to live in peace but France and England became engaged in a conflict that drew America back into war. The British captured American ships on the high seas and forced American sailors (around 10,000 of them) to fight for England. The United States declared war. Known as the War of 1812, it lasted until 1815.

In August 1814, England invaded Washington, D.C., setting fire to the Capitol, White House, and other government buildings. The British then marched to Baltimore, Maryland, and on September 13 began bombarding Fort McHenry.

At that time, attorney Francis Scott Key was aboard a British ship negotiating the release of a friend. Throughout the long night, he watched the attack on Fort McHenry, fearing its fall, but when morning arrived, the American flag was still flying — the fort had survived the attack.

Inspired by these events, Francis Scott Key wrote down a few lines about the attack while still on board the ship and then wrote several more lines after reaching shore. Shortly thereafter they were published as a poem titled “Defence of Fort M’Henry.” Set to music in November of that year, it was named “The Star Spangled Banner.”

Americans know the first verse of this song as it’s what we sing at sporting events or important occasions, but there is religious content that few know about. Notice especially the fourth verse:

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto – “In God is our trust,”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Today, let’s celebrate our national anthem in its entirety — an anthem that shows America’s strong foundation of religious faith and something we should all be proud to remember!

* You can watch David Barton’s short history of the Star Spangled Banner or you can purchase a high resolution copy to show to your church, school, or other group!

America’s Founders on Easter

Easter is celebrated across the world as one of the most significant Christian holy days — as a time when we pause to remember the great sacrifice of Jesus on the cross as well as the ultimate triumph of His resurrection. America’s Founding Fathers often commented on Easter.

For example, Charles Carroll, signer of the Declaration of Independence, viewed Easter as the power for salvation, explaining:

The approaching festival of Easter, and the merits and mercies of our Redeemer copiosa assudeum redemptio [with the Lord there is plentiful redemption] have lead me into this chain of meditation and reasoning, and have inspired me with the hope of finding mercy before my Judge, and of being happy in the life to come — a happiness I wish you to participate with me by infusing into your heart a similar hope.

Benjamin Rush, another signer of the Declaration, pointed out how Jesus’ resurrection not only redeemed man to God but also to each other. He noted:

He forgave the crime of murder on His cross; and after His resurrection, He commanded His disciples to preach the gospel of forgiveness, first at Jerusalem, where He well knew His murderers still resided. These striking facts are recorded for our imitation and seem intended to show that the Son of God died, not only to reconcile God to man but to reconcile men to each other.

Easter is indeed a special day, not only from an historical viewpoint but also from a spiritual one. As early American clergyman Phillips Brooks accurately noted, because of Easter “Let every man and woman count himself immortal. Let him catch the revelation of Jesus in His resurrection. Let him say not merely, ‘Christ is risen,’ but ‘I shall rise’.” Indeed! So, from all of us at WallBuilders, Happy Easter!

Jefferson and Library of Congress

Most Americans are very familiar with the Library of Congress and its massive collection of millions of books, documents, recordings, photographs, sheet music, and manuscripts.1 But few know how Thomas Jefferson is connected to the library.

On April 24, 1800, Congress approved moving the federal government to Washington DC and granted resources for a congressional library:

That for the purchase of such books as may be necessary for the use of Congress at the said city of Washington, and for fitting up a suitable apartment for containing them and for placing them therein, the sum of five thousand dollars shall be, and hereby is appropriated.2

The books purchased for that library were originally kept in the Capitol building.3 But when the British invaded and set fire to the Capitol during the War of 1812,4 this collection was destroyed. This is where Jefferson comes in.

He offered to sell his collection of books (nearly 6,500) to Congress to replace the books that had been burned.5 His offer was accepted and nearly $24,000 (over $300,000 in today’s money) was set aside to purchase his books.6

Unfortunately, almost two-thirds of his collection was destroyed in another fire in 1851,7 but Jefferson’s library was a springboard from which the Library of Congress would continue to grow. Next time you visit the Library of Congress, remember one of the reasons this collection is so impressive is due to Thomas Jefferson’s influence.


Endnotes

1 “Fascinating Facts,” Library of Congress, accessed January 17, 2024.
2 “An Act to make further provision for the removal and accommodation of the Government of the United States,” April 24, 1800, The Public Statutes at Large of the United States of America, ed. Richard Peters (Boston: Charles C. Little and James Brown, 1845), II:56.
3 “History of the Library of Congress,” Library of Congress, accessed January 17, 2024.
4 “A Most Magnificent Ruin: The Burning of the Capitol during the War of 1812,” Architect of the Capitol, August 1, 2023.
5 Thomas Jefferson to Samuel H. Smith, September 21, 1814, The Writings of Thomas Jefferson, ed. H.A. Washington (Washington: Taylor & Maury, 1854), VI:383-385; “Sale of Books to the Library of Congress (1815),” Monticello, accessed January 17, 2024.
6 Samuel H. Smith to Thomas Jefferson, February 15, 1815, Founders Online.
7 “Thomas Jefferson: Jefferson’s Library,” Library of Congress, accessed January 17, 2024.

Oration – July 4th – 1810, Massachusetts

AN

O R A T I O N

DELIVERED AT NEWBURYPORT,

ON THE

FOURTH DAY OF JULY
1810.

By SAMUEL L. KNAPP.

“Justum et tenacem propositi virum
Non ivium ardor prava jubentium
Non vultus instantis tyranny
Mente quatit solida.”

NEWBURYPORT: FROM THE PRESS OF EPHRAIM W. ALLEN.

THE Selectmen of Newburyport, in behalf of their fellow-citizens, present their thanks to SAMUEL L. KNAPP, Esq. for the excellent Oration delivered by him this day, in commemoration of American Independence, and request a Copy for the press.

STEPHEN HOLLAND, Chairman
Newburyport, July 4, 1810.

GENTLEMEN,
FROM a respectful regard to your request; and in compliance to custom, I submit the copy to your disposal.

STEPHEN HOLLAND, Esq. Chairman
Of the Selectmen of Newburyport.
SAMUEL L. KNAPP

AN ORATION.

ON this day we should come forward with open hearts and independent minds to discuss principles of government; to expatiate with sincerity and justice upon national affairs; scrupulously to examine the conduct of Rulers and to see that no strange fire is offered by unhallowed hands on the altar of our liberties; to animate and enlighten each other in republican feelings and duties, to cherish in our breasts the love of distinction and to awaken our minds to a virtuous desire of national greatness.

While on this day we indulge a noble pride in contemplating our exertions for Independence, and feed our imaginations with rapturous views of future years, let us moderate our joy by calling to mind the fate of all republican institutions. Where once the super-human Spartan, the courtly Athenian, and the lordly Roman were found, is now seen the idle Turk and the effeminate Italian. The laws of Lycurgus and Solon, the Senatus-Consultum are changed for the imperial mandates of a tyrant to his slaves. We delight to dwell on the youth and manhood of republican States, as we do on the youth and beauty of Alcibiades, or the iron muscle and godlike mein of Hercules; but pass in silence the loathsomeness and decrepitude of their old age, when they exhibited all that is mean in suffering and base in action. History faithfully records their steps to wretchedness and extinction; but we turn from the melancholy downfall of Republics unwilling too closely to inspect their sullied brightness and diminished glory.

Switzerland is the only exception among the republics of all ages to national suicide. She alone is worthy the tears of time and the lamentations of the world. The echo of her hills repeated the dying accents of liberty on the eastern continent.

Knowledge and virtue are the soul of a Republic. Without them no free government can exist. If men are intelligent, moral and religious he laws are permanent and the people happy; but unenlightened man has no stability of character. In possession of power he is a merciless despot, in the power of others he is a tame and pliant slave. In a free government and under mild laws he is a violent opposer of just restraint and wholesome obedience. With obscure views, strong passions and vicious propensities he is the enemy of his own happiness and author of his own misery. From a deep knowledge of human nature the wise men of ancient Republics seized the moments of peace and reason to fix some mound against popular frenzy; to save the people from their own infatuation and folly. The appealed to the understandings of the people in their calmest moments, and to the best feelings of their hearts, and made them seal the checks to themselves by all the influences of superstition and religion. But in vain did the wise and virtuous attempt to save them; for in the first paroxysm the labors of wisdom were torn away and became as bands of straw on the hands of a maniac. The infuriated multitude drove their sages into banishment, or compelled them to drink the poisonous cup. Honorable services were no safeguard from their fury; and an illustrious name only excited envy and hatred.

Other things were expected of our Republic; for we did not, like them, begin in a state of barbarian ignorance and wait the lapse of ages for knowledge and experience; but in the moments succeeding the struggle for our Independence, when we were quiet from weakness, and peaceful because exhausted by contending, the talent of our country was collected to deliberate upon a constitution of government. Every fountain of knowledge was open; all the maxims of philosophy at hand; and “all the spoils of time” were before them to be examined, selected, modified and combined.

The constitution from their hands was theoretically beautiful and grand. The principles were simple; built on the everlasting foundations of justice. Barriers were raised against the encroachments of wealth and power, and the weak and defenseless were protected in their rights. The widest field for political distinction was open to all. We received this Constitution. Would to Heaven we had been wise enough for its full and continual operation. We were not sufficiently virtuous for this system of government; for while we were feeling its most beneficial effects, disappointed demagogues were scattering ambiguous voices, which were caught by the insolent and vicious. The serpent was seen lurking in this paradise the morning after its creation. This party at first, were hardly noticed. They shrunk from the splendid blaze of talents in our national Councils, from the immaculate purity and renowned virtue of our first magistrate; but in secret they were gaining strength and rancor. The disaffected part of the community joined them to vent their malice, and the weak man, who was ambitious; they ensnared the dreams of honor. From the confines of darkness these opposers of the Administration of Washington, came forth to censure every action and attack every measure, regardless of decency or justice. Every act of the Administration, however mild and salutary, was by this faction called oppressive and tyrannical. The cry of danger was so loud and so frequently reiterated that the timid were alarmed, and the weak became suspicious. At length, after twelve years uniform and vindictive opposition from this party, to the genuine principles of republicanism, Mr. Jefferson its head came into office. Washington for eight years, had led us by a direct road and rapid marches to a high eminence among nations; but at this period he was no longer numbered with the living. His immediate successor, Mr. Adams, during his term of office, with few deviations, wisely followed his steps. At the name of this man my bosom labors with mingled emotions of reverence, pity, and contempt. He had never apostatized from the principles of his great prototype, we should on his anniversary have been wreathing garlands of flowers for this venerable head; for he was an early and able advocate for the Independence of his country. If he had died before his vanity and wounded pride had overcome his reason, we should on this day have been strewing his grave with cassia and defending the laurels of his tomb from the pestilential breath of his present friends.

Mr. Jefferson’s Administration deserves from every one the strictest scrutiny and freest remark; for in his Administration the world witnessed the most novel spectacle it had ever seen; a people by the bare suggestion of a chief magistrate cut off from a pursuit in which they were ardently and successfully engaged, and on which their dearest interests depended. Themistocles is immortal on the page of history for prevailing on the Athenians in a time of difficulty to quit their city and trust themselves to the sea. Mr. Jefferson by a simple dictum has done more to an immense country, than this great man did to single city, by incessant labor, matchless eloquence and profound art. But here all resemblance vanishes. The act of one saved and established the liberties of Greece, the act of the other impoverished and degraded his country. Mr. Jefferson, fed by the philosophers of France, with visionary plans for the improvement of human nature, unfortunately for us was clothed with power to put some of these schemes in experiment. He continued the same speculative zealot, although the school in which he was taught, with all their fanciful theories and wild calculations to give unalloyed happiness to the world, perpetuity to life, and to elevate men to gods, lad long since been swept from the earth and the remembrance of their existence almost forgotten. The seed sown in this country by France, during her revolution, has produced a plentiful and poisonous harvest. At the thoughts of France our old wounds bleed afresh, and no hand is able to staunch those recently made. From France for many years we have suffered violence, outrage and robbery with a cringing spirit and dastardly dread. When she has treated us with the most contempt; we have courted her with the most servility; and have kissed the foot of Bonaparte, when it has been lifted to crush our heads in the dust. Our citizens have expired in the dungeons of France, and our property has gone to replenish her exhausted treasury. It is true our government have remonstrated; but so feebly, that the mighty master of our destinies has told us he had not leisure to listen to our complaints.

The historian of a future age will be unable to account for this moral and political phenomenon that a nation, which had so nobly contended for Independence, so lately evinced such fortitude and patriotism, should in so few years become totally insensible to the prostration of her honor, and regardless of the lives and liberties of her citizens. Instead of asserting our rights and defending our property, we have been gazing in stupid wonder at the gigantic strides of the destroyer, and at times have so far forgotten our fate, that we have found pleasure in describing his power, ambition and success. We have seen the dews of death fall on the nations around him with scarcely an emotion to pity. Great God! How long shall this desolater of nations wear his crown stained with tears the dripping with gore? How long shall he bid fierce defiance to eternal justice, and yet prosper, as never man prospered? If Americans possessed the proud spirit, for which they were once distinguished, the storms which have shaken Europe, would have rolled at a harmless distance. Had our government risen in the majesty of her strength, the star which has shed its baleful influence on Europe, would not have darted a malignant ray on us. What are the armies of France to America! An immense ocean rolls between us, “and the thousand ships of England” ride on its waves. Had we preserved our little navy, and made proper additions to it yearly, we should have been able at this period to protect our commerce from French depredations; nor should we now be burning with shame and indignation, that our property and rights have been adjudged by a paltry Danish Court. Is it not enough to fire freemen with madness that such a petty power should treat us so villainously? And what is worst of all, that we should so tamely submit to it! Our rulers have seen this insult and degradation with perfect indifference. They will not enter into our feelings or alleviate our distress. But their office is not perpetual. Other times are coming, and the government will pass to other men. Already some of these political “glow worms ‘gin to pale their ineffectual fires.” Though the darkness is still great, the morning may be near; and when the day again shines upon us, the people will be convinced of what has often been told them; that by commerce only this country can grow populous, opulent and distinguished. Deprive us of our commerce and we shall be stationary or retrograde. Commerce is the sacred Palladium of our rights; and as long as it is extensive and prosperous, this country will increase in numbers and power.

Some politicians have exclaimed against a nation of merchants, as they are pleased to stile commercial countries, and asserted that no true patriotism could exist among men, who were in pursuit of riches. But we know these opinions to be incorrect. To prove that true national dignity and glory have been attained by commerce, we have only to glance at the history of commercial nations. The people of Tyre, while their trade flourished, were the most enlightened and invincible of any nation on earth. The arts and sciences were found among them in greater perfection, than among other nations. In accumulating property, they did not forget the necessity of defense. Though not very numerous they presented a warlike and formidable front, to the great nations around them. Carthage whose character we have through the suspected medium of Roman historians, their constant enemies, was a small country, wealthy by commerce and consequently powerful. At the mention of Carthage the Roman warrior’s cheek was blanched with fear, and the name of Hannibal carried terror within the walls of Rome. In the days of the Medici, who were princes and merchants, learning revived, and liberty took deep root and flourished. Commerce showered her Gold on literature and the arts and learning in return consecrated the genius of Commerce by binding his brow with the richest offerings of the Florentine muse. Holland has ever found her weight in the scale of nations exactly in proportion to the prosperity of her trade. Look back to the days of the DeWitts, and compare them with the reign of Louis.

If anyone doubts the beneficial effects of commerce on the civil and political liberties of a people, point him to Great-Britain, and he will find that her strength and influence has increased with her revenue. Examine her history for a century past and you will find she has increased in spirit and knowledge, as she has grown in wealth. The independence and wisdom of her House of Commons have risen in the same ratio of her exports. Is there any man among us, my fellow-citizens, who thinks it inexpedient for us to continue a commercial people? If there lives such a man, ask him to view our navigable rivers, our mountain-oaks and all our resources for building and equipping ships. Bid him think of the enkindled spirit of enterprise in our countrymen, who meet danger with delight, and smile at fear. Shall this vigor waste? Shall the manly sinew relax? Shall this restless and adventurous spirit, which pants for something to contend with and conquer, turn into indolence and vice for wan of action?

Shall these men who would gladly “brave the battle and the breeze,” be condemned to cultivate the bleak mountains or barren heaths of our country? Forbid it genius of New-England; and never let it be said that our nerve and fortitude are changed to feebleness and timidity. New-England must find her safety, her happiness and her fame in commerce, and must at all events have it. The convulsions of the world have stopped some of the usual channels of trade, but the same convulsions will open other channels and give room for industry and enterprise. We must not expect an interrupted course of prosperity in trade, and that the world will see us defenseless without taking advantage of such a state. Everything intimately connected with commerce deserves our highest attention. This impression will lead me to venture a few remarks on the maxim in the mouths of our political opponents,–“that great cities are a great evil.” Perhaps this may be said of cities in countries altogether agricultural, where the hard earnings of the peasant are dissipated by his master in luxurious idleness in the city. Commercial cities are mostly filled with industrious inhabitants, who instead of preying on the vitals of the country; lavish their wealth on it, which, like the overflowing of Helicon, produces all around perennial flowers and eternal verdure. In cities the asperities of character are smoothed and softened, and the manners receive a polish from the business and intercourse of life. In cities the reputation of men for virtues or talents is weighed in the balance and marked with proper notice and regard. Associations are formed for alleviating the miseries of humanity; for collecting stores of information from all parts of the world, and for extending the empire of the human mind.

As patriots we cannot but feel an interest in all the changes of the world. So intimately are nations connected at the present day that circumstances effecting one nation are almost always felt by others. But as lovers of freedom, we must rejoice at the recent events in Spanish America. A country formed by the God of nature on the most extensive scale, with mountains whose lofty summits seem to prop the starry Heavens; with rivers in magnitude like seas, enjoying the most salubrious air and the richest soil; with a population as large as the United States. This people have declared themselves independent. They have long been oppressed by the miserable policy of the mother country. Without commerce, without civil liberty, confined and restrained in their own domestic affairs, they have never reached any dignity of character; avaricious viceroys have plundered them with impunity, and kept them ignorant and dependent. The power of Bonaparte, which has made Spain “the skin of an immolated victim,” has un-riveted their chains. They seized a fortunate moment, and declared themselves independent. We hail them as a new born nation; and offer our prayers for their success. From justice and policy our government ought to be the first to acknowledge their independence. We hope they may experience the mild reign of national liberty, without passing through confusion and anarchy, and learn from the fate of other nations not to indulge in eccentric experiments in forming a government. This revolution will open an extensive trade; and if rightly improved, repay us in some measure what we have lost in Europe. Whatever path our government may pursue in this affair, or in any other; in whatever hands our destinies may be placed, may we honestly avow our sentiments, and fearlessly execute our just determinations, keep close to those politics which have been adopted by the wise and good, and consecrated by the immortal Washington. Politics, which are a combination of intelligence, social affection and religious belief; a love of government founded on efficient principles and administered with firmness and impartiality; a sacred regard to equal rights, and a just hatred of oppression from the many or the few; a union of ability and virtue, against loose principles and violent passions. This is federalism and its professors have magnanimously strove against the torrent, and maintained dignity and influence when the power had passed from their hands. The federal Legislature of our Commonwealth, last year, risked their political existence in the cause of their country. They saw the gulf was open and the plague was raging; and like Curtius, they boldly leaped in as a sacrifice for the general good. The federalists are now a minority, but a powerful minority, which are yet to save us. The party is now winnowed of its wretched chaff. The little souls, who longed for the rattles of office, have deserted our standard. Some of them are flattered and promoted; but we do not envy them the fruits of their apostacy. It was a pitiful ambition, and most pitifully are they rewarded. What honor is there in office, when honorable men are proscribed? Who is desirous of a seat in that Council, where witlings lead in the deliberations.

The hour is mournful and the prospect gloomy; but do not grow impatient. We have much to thank Heaven for, and much to rejoice in. Most of our civil rights yet remain. The Temple of Justice has been shaken by the warring winds of faction; but it stands as yet unprofaned and its sacred fires are burning. The spirit, which gained our Independence, rightly directed, will preserve it. The generation to come will grow wise by our misfortunes, and shun the evils we have borne. This strong delusion is but for a season; the return of reason is certain. To the rising race will soon be committed the guidance of the Country. Life is but a short and feverish dream; and those who are now “clothed in a little brief authority,” will soon be gone.

Much we owe you, venerable fathers, who fought our battles and secured our independence, when the veins of hope were chilled and dismay and despair hovered around you. Much we owe you honored Matrons, mothers of the fair and the brave, you partook of their dangers, cherished the flame of liberty, and shall share in their renown.

Every day is thinning the ranks of the heroes and statesmen, who have been conspicuous in our infant republic. The illustrious Green just tasted of liberty and died. Washington lived to raise us to the zenith of prosperity; but was opportunely called to Heaven. Death alone could shield his cheek from blushing at his country’s disgrace. Hamilton the pride of eloquence, and boast of genius, molders in an untimely grave. He was mild as the spirit of love, and immoveable as the rock of adamant. Had he lived in America would have had a Palinurus for every storm, who could have safely led the way in a starless night and through tempestuous seas. Within a few months Lincoln full of honors and years has descended to the tomb. Such was his purity in private life and his fame in war that his friends loved him with ardor, and his political enemies revered him for his virtues. My fathers, co-adjutors of these great men, in the cause of American freedom, “may your last days be your best days, or ever the silver cord of life is loosed;” see your children’s children rise up to call you blessed, and your country flourishing in republican virtues and increasing in wealth, fame and power.

END

Oration – July 5th – 1824, Quincy

George Washington Adams was the oldest son of John Quincy Adams. He graduated from Harvard, studied law, and was a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives. He died in 1829.


AN

ORATION

DELIVERED AT QUINCY,

ON THE

FIFTH OF JULY, 1824.

BY

GEORGE WASHINGTON ADAMS

ORATION.

The causes of great events, those events themselves, and their extensive consequences, are subjects worthy the attention of enlightened and intelligent minds. We have assembled, fellow citizens, to celebrate the anniversary of a day justly memorable in the records of our country’s history: a day glorious to this nation as the festival of its nativity; glorious to humanity, for the expression of principles, proportionate to its exalted privileges. It is the intention of our celebration to signify our adherence to those sublime principles, “which are not of an age but for all time,” and it is delightful to reflect upon the countless multitude of free Americans who with this purpose have watched this morning’s dawn. While we are endeavouring to pay the meed of gratitude to the memory of the past; while we are here to record our sense of our unexampled blessings, the voice of praise ascends around us in every variation of the passing wind: the time is hallowed: the Spirit of Gladness smiles on the land and her altars are adorned with thousand offerings: Genius is strewing roses over our happy clime, and Poetry is breathing forth her heaven born inspiration; throughout our wide extended territory, the day is welcomed with one burst of pleasure. Whence is this general joy? It arises from our independent freedom, which has made known to us the value of our institutions, planted by the energies, and secured to us by the virtuous efforts of our ancestors. Let their energy be to us an example, and their efforts motives for unfailing gratitude to Him who prospered them.The Declaration of Independence, was an advance in the progress of mind; a point in human history, to which the important occurrences of preceding ages led, and from which consequences of high import have proceeded.

The Christian Revelation, that mild and beautiful religion, which has taught man his duties and his hopes, is the true source of human happiness. With its establishment commenced the course of improvement, which succeeding ages and wonderful events have carried onward to our own age and time. The contemplation of the steps by which it has advanced affords much matter of instructive thought, and many reasons for just admiration. America has done and is doing her share in the great work and from the hour of the discovery up to the present moment has shown a proud example to the world.

Past history justifies the reflection that undertakings of magnitude are accomplished only through toil, and suffering, and perilous endurance. This vast continent, unknown for centuries, was discovered, from the fortunate conjecture of an enlightened mind; yet the history of its discoverer is a history of injuries; injuries during his life and neglect after his death. Born in a republic, Christopher Columbus was brought up upon the bosom of the wave and fitted for the mighty object of his life. Having conceived that object he imparted it first to the people of his native land. Censured by his own countrymen as a visionary projector; rejected by nation after nation to whom he had applied; Columbus persevered in his design, with assiduity and firmness truly admirable. At length the Spanish sovereigns risked the experiment: furnished the daring navigator with a miserable squadron, and assisted him with slight encouragement: ill appointed and badly manned, he sailed to find a world! Tried by the dangers of the ocean; distrusted by his men; conflicting twice with mutiny and rage, the promise was wrung from him that in three days if land were not discovered he would return to Spain. His life; his all was on the cast, but his own fortitude supported him. On the evening after he gave the promise, a distant light pierced the dark waste of waters; Columbus saw and marked the glimmering signal: it was a moment of intense interest: to his aspiring mind, another world was found! His triumph was complete; that little beam revived the fainting spirits of his crew, and relumed [illuminate again] the rays of Hope,

“That star on life’s tremulous ocean.”

But this is not the time, my fellow citizens, nor this the place to detail the romantic incidents in the fortunes of Columbus, however rich the theme. His discovery has been mentioned only to notice its effects. It occasioned a rapid improvement in the condition of civilized man, and we may trust that the bright beam Columbus saw, betokened to the untutored Indian, the rising of the star of Bethlehem.

The Discovery of America by Columbus in 1492, succeeded by that of a shorter passage to the East Indies in 1497 by Vasco de Gama, exposed to European avarice the sources of unlooked for wealth. From their full fountains, the Indies poured the precious metals into Europe like a flood. With them went luxury and its concomitant vices, but with them went also the means of knowledge and they aroused an ardent desire for its acquisition. Europe was astonished at these immense discoveries: Venice, the Ocean Power, saw with alarm and terror her sister nations winning all her wealth: Spain measured with enthusiasm, the vast possessions she had acquired: the avarice of England’s seventh Henry stimulated him to obtain for her some portion of this valuable territory: a succession of skilful navigators pursued the track of the great Genoese, and all conspired to increase the thirst for knowledge; mankind began to think: the Reformation followed, and this third astonishing event, rousing men’s passions as its march went on, caused a continued emigration from the old world to the new, for other purposes than those of wealth and plunder, till the poor pilgrim, crossed the deep waters to find a home where he might worship God as his own conscience taught, and where he might be free from persecuting power.

The Reformation emanating from Germany passed into England, and owing to the fortunate conjuncture of the times was there established; but it was not in the intention of her “hard ruled king” to part with his supremacy, and hence arose wide differences of opinion. Tyrant power wielded the sword and used it bloodily designing, not to silence but to extirpate religious opposition, and the sanguinary measures thence adopted, hardened the non-conformists in their faith. Persecution was opposed by bigotry; suffering was paralleled by obstinacy; till the temper of the age grew cruel, unrelenting, merciless: men’s minds were soured and all parties assuming the rigorous rule of uniformity, while they believed their own opinions right, held every departure from them, heresy and sin. In this state of things, our forefathers, tired of a fruitless struggle with the dominant power, and harassed by domestic sorrows, sought an asylum here. Heaven seems to strengthen the human faculties proportionally to the obstacles to be encountered: obstacles multiplied before our fathers, and were surmounted; Plymouth was settled and in the rock the tree of Liberty was rooted. Bound by their religious covenant, the Pilgrims bound themselves by a political constitution. By a charter to the Plymouth Council, under a royal grant, based on discovery and implied conquest, they came hither, but their best title was afterwards acquired by purchase from the natives of the soil, and subsequent efficient labour on the land. Hardly had they completed the outline of their town, before the indiscretion of their countrymen surrounded them with dangers. The Puritans in England held a reformation of the manners of the age, essential to the reformation of religion, and the sharp cruelty exercised upon them, induced them to assert this point with more than stoic rigour: this drove their opponents to the opposite extreme; they increased their luxury because it was attacked, deriding Puritan severity to cut off the growth of Puritan belief. With these opinions, some of the established church came over to New England in the first year after the Plymouth settlement commenced, and fixed themselves at Weymouth: others followed them, and chose Mount Wollaston for their plantation: their leading officers soon left them, and they, unlike their Plymouth neighbours, and unrestrained by conscientious virtue, gave themselves up to wild licentiousness. The natives, wronged by them, concerted deep laid plans for their destruction, but they, urged onward by an evil schemer, plunged deeper into reckless dissipation: gathered the flowers of spring to wreath their garlands, and like the victims of the Roman altars, knew not the fate that was impending over them: strange! That a few adventurers; on an unsettled coast; surrounded by tribes whom they had irritated; straitened for bare subsistence; and while a fearful storm was gathering, could listen to the siren voice of pleasure and drain the cup of idle wantonness: yes; on yon merry mountain the shout of revelry was heard, until the Plymouth Government, alarmed at its pernicious influence, suppressed the settlement.

History, my fellow citizens, must be impartial: if the fate of this unthinking crew awakens painful feeling, there is an honest pride in the remembrance that you are not their sons. Very different was the character of the successful founders of New England. Their energy soon settled Plymouth, and their example founded other colonies, which, under favourable charters, nourished a free and hardy population, growing and gradually spreading through this Western world. The Pilgrims of Plymouth and the primitive settlers of New England came over to enjoy unmolested, the exercise of a simple and unadulterated form of worship. To obtain this religious freedom, they left a land over which Nature has profusely scattered her most attractive graces: a land which has been beautifully called

“A precious stone set in the silver sea,”

Where were the tombs of their fathers and the homes of their kindred; where their earliest affections had grown, and their dearest recollections lingered: but it was no longer the home of Liberty; Astraea had deserted it, and left green Albion a barren waste girt with a ripple wall of regal tyranny. What was the beauty of the earth to them, deprived of liberty of conscience? For this they could forego this “Pleasant land of their nativity;” for this they could restrain those feelings which might not be entirely destroyed; estrange themselves from home, and friends and kindred to become acquainted with the rude savage of the wilderness. They brought with them the rigid principles for which they had contended, and the stern spirit which they had imbibed. Religion was the platform of their political state, and they respected its ordinances, and its ministers. These exerted a favourable influence upon the public morals, watching them with scrutinizing jealousy: the people possessed an operative suffrage in their church government, and were familiar with polemic controversy: they sifted doctrines and decided for themselves contested points: but in the innumerable differences of human opinion, it was not probable that uniformity could long exist among them. Uniformity was the rule which the opposing sects required in England before they emigrated, and their uncompromising disposition made it essential here. They had moreover, assumed mistaken definitions of religious liberty: zeal was the leading feature of the character: zeal which had induced such honourable sacrifices, impelled them to become intolerant and too uncharitable to those from whom they differed in speculative belief. This intolerance was owing to their early habits, to the partial knowledge which that age possessed, and to their danger as a community if different systems should gain ground. If there are dark shades in the portrait, they serve but to contrast its glowing colours and to enhance its general expression. It is man’s nature to mingle imperfection with his best efforts, and his past errors present an awful warning for the future.Accustomed to judge for themselves in matters of theology, they began to feel it as their right to judge in those of government. Acknowledging themselves to be English subjects, they drew nice distinctions in defining that subjection in order that it might not prejudice their privileges. With no nobility to check the growth of equal systems; no hierarchy to hold out a lure to clerical ambition, or to sustain royal pretensions to supremacy in religion; no courts supported by the forfeitures decreed by their own judges; they grew up in the enjoyment of republican rights. They constituted a republic under the jurisdiction of a magistrate, too distant to govern them effectively, and too profoundly ignorant of their importance, to straiten round them the cords of sovereignty. Their governor chosen by themselves was annually removable under the earlier plan of administration, and though afterwards lost, this right of choosing their own rulers had been exercised and was remembered. Their immediate executive was elective and thus responsible to them: indeed, the wise and virtuous men who took the lead in their affairs, encouraged the republican immunities of the people and supported the established charter rule of annual elections from their own conviction of its value; sensible

“That nobler is a limited command
“Given by the love of all your native land,
“Than a successive title, long and dark,
“Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah’s ark.”

To annual elections they soon added representation, and improved on the practice of the Mother Country, by equalizing the rule. This right of being represented was not granted by the first charters, but it was adopted shortly after their arrival, and in various periods of our history its value has been ascertained. Actual experience proved the necessity of distinguishing property and they fortunately held it unburthened with the incidents of feudal extortion and by admitted titles.

These rights were the elements of their high character; but there was another cause which added to their firmness and increased their privileges. From the earliest settlement, they cultivated good learning and useful science. The controversies of theology could not be maintained without sufficient learning to oppose the arguments of learned orders of the church, laboring for its preservation. Controversy had been for years familiar as the daily food of life. The reformation had in the different sides which States and Monarchs were compelled to take, opened the wide gates of speculative doubt, and proved to mankind that they could think for themselves. This point once gained, there was no limit to the interest which attended the investigation of religious questions; hence this interest extended throughout Europe, and spread itself over the whole surface of society. The study of theology became the surest path to influence and hour, and learning was sought for as a weapon of controversy. Inexpressibly anxious about their eternal welfare, our fathers taught their children to “search the scriptures,” and thus laid the corner stone of learning’s proudest temple, a reading and reflecting community. They established schools and colleges for public education. While New England was a sterile wilderness, the halls of Harvard rose to educate a line of excellent men, qualified to instruct their countrymen in wisdom: to seek her in her dearest treasuries: to dispense to mankind the inestimable benefits of knowledge and virtue.

“These are brighter, richer gems
“Than the stars of diadems.”

The collective character of a people is composed of the same mixture of differing qualities, which are discernible in individuals: it comprises the same liberality, generosity, honesty of intention, and the same stormy passions which when roused, shake the whole happiness of private life. Our forefathers were a patient and persevering people: their devotion was simple but earnest; their theories were circumscribed but conscientious; their morality was rigorous but practical. They were from necessity frugal; from their position circumspect; from their situation vigorous and hardy. Obliged alike to brave the savage and the European foe; acquainted equally with the implements of husbandry and with the weapons of war, they guarded the State till she had cleared the dangers of her infancy. Such was the early character of the people of New England. It shows a race of men fit to be free. History presents no parallel to such a people: mid all her records of blood stained laurels and successful wrong; mid all her tales of daring enterprise and reckless valour; of learned lawgivers and grasping conquerors, she shows no other state, originating in devotion and in liberty of thought; no other nation whose foundation was the pure worship of the living God.

In this character we may trace the progress of mind. Freedom opened the blossom of republican polity which was in aftertimes to ripen into admirable fruit. The early systems of elections, of representation and of property were improvements on the old modes; the former by limiting official power, increasing responsibility and equalizing popular participation in government; the latter by securing to industry, the profits it affords.

This character, which intercourse and habit, in the next generation had extended and confirmed, was not in good accordance with regal prerogative or Parliamentary supremacy. It became necessary, therefore, that the Mother Country should counteract and check it, by a plan of colonial policy.

The affairs of England claimed the whole attention of her cabinet, and these plantations were permitted to grow unmolested, until the overturn of ancient prejudices had changed the form of English government, and placed Cromwell at the helm. He first perceived the true importance of the colonies, and bent his mind upon them. The leader of the Puritans; he looked with favour on New England while ruling other colonies with rigour; but to sustain the war with Holland, he procured from Parliament the passage of the act of navigation, which formed the ground work of their future policy. After the restoration, the people lost many of their most peculiar privileges. The gloomy machinations of the last Stuarts, extended to America, and were mainly directed against the bold and independent spirit of New England. No longer empowered to elect their own executive, the colonists were holden at the mercy of the throne; a mercy, burthened with such hard conditions as completely changed its office. Violent and arbitrary maxims of government, carried into execution by rulers, strangers to the soil and its inhabitants, affecting the right of property, destroying the right of suffrage, subverting customs which had grown up with the people, were the “tender mercies,” which the “nursing mother” administered to her distressed offspring. The same eclipse which had overshadowed the Sun of British Liberty, portended total darkness to the world, but under the merciful decree of Providence it passed away, and left the orb more radiant than before. The British revolution saved mankind from projects deeply designed for their entire subjection, and forms another step in the advance of mind. During the reigns of the last Charles and James, the value of the American plantations began to be appreciated. The Mother Country framed a system of colonial policy, which depressed their energies and fettered their power. The Parliament during the Commonwealth had passed the act of navigation, and subsequently added to it acts of trade, by which the profits of the colonial commerce were made returnable through the British market. This commercial monopoly was vigorously enforced by one party and artfully evaded by the other, till at length the power of the crown extorted a partial obedience. The secret springs of the machine were avarice and fear. Profound and learned writers directed the attention of the British rulers, to the colonies. The propositions fundamental to their policy were, that plantations possessing unrestricted trade are prejudicial to the commerce of the Mother Country; and that on this principle, New England most of all obstructed English trade. It was therefore determined to check the growth and stop the progress of these provinces by means of the act of navigation, strengthened and supported by a succession of laws for regulating, or more properly, crippling the trade of the plantations by a continued chain of restrictions laid on their commerce. These restrictions were made to act equally upon the importation and the exportation of the Colonists, compelling them to purchase at a dearer rate than was primarily requisite, and to sell at a higher rate than was otherwise necessary, to prevent their underselling the English trader. The people of New England were experienced navigators, and the fisheries an unfailing school for seamen. The coast afforded large facilities for ship building, and the Colonies would assuredly improve them, whence would arise in case of insubordination, an American navy. The commercial monopoly was the instrument made use of to prevent all this danger to the “fast anchored isle.” Was it to be imagined that a people such as we have shown, habitually jealous of their liberties, would tamely and quietly submit to such restrictions? Was it to be supposed that a hardy and enterprising race of men, skilful in calculation and shrewdly sensitive to honest profit, would willingly consent to let the price of their labour, the gains of their industry slip from their hands? It would have been wholly foreign to the character of this people to have submitted without murmuring to this unfavourable scheme. They did not willingly submit: they lost the first charter for their opposition; they lost that right of choosing their own executive, which had so long protected them in freedom: they were subjected to a tyrannical governor, brought up and nourished in the Stuart projects: all this they bore, before they would submit to this restrictive plan, and when at last, they were compelled to avow obedience, it was conveyed to an act of their own legislature, which imposed the burthen. From the Restoration in 1660, this plan of curbing the Colonies was enforced by England and evaded in America, till in the course of time it became the fountain of our revolution. When the provinces had consented to it, their obedience was as literal as might have been expected, and notwithstanding its rigorous operation, they prospered, for their commodities and produce were immensely profitable to the monopolist, and thence in great demand; and this may prove the interested wisdom of the framers of this scheme; for if the sun “shorn of his beams” yet shone so brightly, his concentrated power might be dangerous. The Colonies increased and prospered, their regulation notwithstanding, but their prosperity ran counter to the fundamental proposition of English doctrines, and in consequence it became necessary to weave a net about America, which should completely foil her struggles and be sufficiently elastic to increase with her increasing strength. To effect this scheme, some genius, invented the plan for raising a revenue from America by Parliamentary taxation without representation: a revenue superadded to the restrictive, exclusive, oppressive system of commercial monopoly: an union of which the offspring was “uncompensated slavery.” My fellow citizens it was this scheme of “exquisite policy” originating either in ministerial embarrassments abroad or in high reaching ambition at home, which brought about our glorious revolution. The people saw that the point most settled in the British constitution, that taxation must not exist without representation, was annihilated by the British policy. It was this violation on the British part which caused the revolution, and was followed by the revolutionary war.

The revolution commenced with the resistance made to an order from the superior court of this province for writs of assistance to carry into execution the acts of trade. These writs of assistance indicated the first speck in the horizon, round which the clouds collected, to burst in thunder over Britain and to purify the political atmosphere of the world. The revolution, that total change in the feelings of the Colonies towards the Mother Country, was completed by the Declaration of Independence, which was ratified by a successful conflict. The Colonies together with the parent kingdom were coming out victoriously from the war with France, which had greatly added to their military glory and to the national burthens. The provinces in America had borne an active and an honourable share in the labours and successes of the war; thereby becoming more closely bound to the parent state than ever; but their success alarmed the British ministry by awakening their fears, that the checks on the free spirit of the Americans had been diminished by the destruction of the French power. They resumed their monopoly and added to it the scheme for revenue at the very moment they lessened the means of meeting their demands. Bill after bill was fulminated by Parliament with the double motive of extorting revenue to meet the pecuniary difficulties of the kingdom, and of breaking the spirit of the Americans. It is a tale of wrongs too melancholy for this hour. After long suffering, patient forbearance, and glorious resistance, America determined to be free. Passions were roused to their extremes, and British pride pledged to the contest: the ministry alarmed and angered, drew the sword upon their countrymen, resolved to strain every nerve for ultimate success.

In this situation, when the British government had decided to exert the power of the empire, and war hung lowering darkly over America; the Declaration of Independence was issued and received with acclamation throughout the Colonies.—The arm of Tyranny was palsied by the blow, it cleft his Lion helm in twain, and struck the feeble faulchion [one-handed, single-edged sword] from his hand. The Colonies had shaken off the chains by which they had been manacled, and owned no longer an imperious master; they told the world that they were free; and in the reasons they assigned for this assertion of their freedom are to be found the soundest principles of public justice, the boldest theories of human rights. These are the reasons why this sublime instrument marks an advancement of the human mind; these are the claims, which have won for this day the annual tribute of a nation’s joy; these are the sacred ties, which hold together these increasing states in the strict bonds of union and of harmony.

The effects of this Declaration were at the time when it was issued, most favourable. Other powers lent their assistance to an independent nation, contending for its existence, which they could not have done to subject colonies, conflicting with a master whom they acknowledged: at home the public resources were concentrated: an object to be gained and defined. Through fields of hard fought battle, through patient toil and painful suffering, the object has been gained: America is free: the valour of her sons, the wisdom of her statesmen, nerved by the glorious cause for which they fought, have made and kept her free.

The effects of this Declaration are now everywhere visible. Look through the country and behold our accumulated blessings: see Nature robed in beauty; fertile in rich luxuriance: see health and plenty everywhere around you: see a dense and settled population stretching from the cold regions of the North to the exuberant valleys of the South; from the prolific intervals of the East to the flourishing prairies of the West: see your shores washed by two oceans and the soil your own: Are not these motives for rejoicing? The welcome of this day throughout the land gives our reply.

But beside the general national reasons for rejoicing in the benefits resulting from this proud day, there are others, fellow citizens, which affect us peculiarly. We cannot forget that the great name, which leads the illustrious catalogue upon that venerated instrument, went forth from here. I would speak with diffidence of Mr. Hancock. Common praise would not express his virtues. His character was compounded of mingled gravity and splendor. Accustomed to the luxuries of life, Fortune clothed him with her mantle of elegant refinement and poured her gifts upon him in a golden shower. With every prospect of pre-eminence under the ancient aristocratic system, commanding influence and sure of honours, it was no common strain of patriotism that could put by the glittering bait which courted him. Dignified, graceful, affable, and eloquent, he seemed to win involuntary favour, while to these outward excellences, he added the sterner virtues which the time required. Liberal, charitable, generous, his fortune was his country’s and his wealth made for the poor. Generosity was the flower of his life, and whether actively exercised in freely bestowing or negatively in giving up emoluments it bloomed in equal brilliancy. His splendid qualities were perhaps displayed too publicly ; there might be something too shining in his mode of life; but this splendor was the growth of early habit and the overflowing of a liberal nature. It is difficult to lay aside the customs which have grown with us from childhood; self denial is a hard and trying thing; but Mr. Hancock was willing to put everything at stake: fortune, honours, safety, life itself were to him worthless in comparison with Republican Liberty. His soul was comprehensive and his spirit bold as the character which records his signature: and if persevering aid to the right cause in sickness, sorrow, sacrifice are honourable; then is Mr. Hancock’s life entitled to our highest panegyric.

While he was thus conspicuous in the front rank of the advocates of liberty and law, beside him stood a Roman patriot. Samuel Adams was certainly an extraordinary character: a man whom few resemble. We should be inclined to think him rather of the school of the younger Brutus, or bred in the faith of Cato, than an inhabitant of a modern colony; rather taught by the Scottish Covenanters than by the courtly statesmen in the reign of the third George; cotemporary rather with Standish and Carver than with Bernard and Hutchinson. There was “a daily beauty I in his life” which calls for our warmest approbation. His public course exhibited a firmness and decision which were indeed remarkable: he was no half way man; reform with him required total, final, essential, alteration. Poor as he was, it was idle to attempt to bribe such a man: to the allurements of Fortune he was blind as her own fabled divinity; but to the real charms of Liberty he paid his homage with clear unclouded vision. In private he was conciliating and benevolent; in public strenuous and severe. He could contemplate the gathering clouds with satisfaction; could see a glory in the fearful struggle; could moralize upon the day of battle: there was, it may be, something too rugged in his policy, but it was the obstinacy of masculine virtue. He was one of those men who effect great ends, and that he did contribute much to the event, which distinguishes this day, is clearly unquestionable. Differing widely in character from Mr. Hancock he was equally useful to the cause of American freedom: their names were inscribed together on the same record of proscription and glow with equal grandeur on the same scroll of fame.

There was a third citizen of this soil: alas! too quickly taken. Educated to benefit his species; gifted with the fascinating, the appalling powers of oratory; compared by those who heard his magic speech to the splendid orator of Rome:–God in his own wise designs did not permit him to see the light of that bright hour, which gave our Declaration of Independence, but “his mind’s eye” beheld it as Moses from the top of Pisgah saw the land which he might not inhabit. His life was spent in arduous professional labour, and he bore an honourable share in that decree which proved the triumph of eternal justice even in the very midst of massacre. This severe labour, added to the toils he bore to aid his country, cost Mr. Quincy life: let his memory live ever here; bloom ever in the spot which bears his name: it is not too much to say of him in the language of the poet,

“O’er him whose doom your virtues grieve,
“Aerial forms shall sit at eve
“And bend the pensive head:
“And fallen to save his injur’d land
“Immortal Honour’s awful hand
“Shall point his lonely bed.”

In attempting to award a feeble measure of justice to the memory of these eminent men, it is not designed to assign to them exclusive praise. The results of our Revolution produced a company of patriots unsurpassed in earthly annals; men wise and bold in counsel and the field. The majority of that vigorous race have gone to brighter climes; a few, alas, how few! Remain to greet this morning; blessed by the wishes of their country: blessed by the sight of national prosperity beyond their fondest hopes:–the rest we trust are joined again with Washington, above the reach of time.

The last, the best effect of this immortal instrument, has been upon the nations of the earth. The lessons which it diffuses have not been lost, have not died away unheard. Crushed, trampled on, oppressed, Liberty rises by her own resistless energy, to renew the struggle for the dearest rights of man. The herald of those rights has spoken to the world. France has heard the sound, but Despotism has benumbed her faculties and Cruelty has stained her proud escutcheon. Spain has heard the sound and tried to loose the chains of ancient days, but Superstition holds her down as with a spell of sorcery. Greece has heard the sound and sprung in armour from her slothful couch, to ring the loud larum [alarm] peal of war, and blood, and battle: yes, my fellow citizens, the subtle fluid is at work; the waters are rising, and they will pour the great tide of liberty throughout the globe: it already rolls in the Archipelago, it mingles in the billows of the mighty Amazon.

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.

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.