Years.MilitaryNavalEstablishment.Establishment.1789-91$835,618$57017921,223,59453!17931,237,62017942,733,53961,40917952,573,059410,56217961,474,672274,784Total, during eight years of Washington,}$10,078,102$747,3781835$9,420,313$3,864,939183619,667,1665,807,718183720,702,9296,646,915183820,557,4736,131,581183914,588,6646,182,294184012,030,6246,113,897184113,704,8826,001,07718429,188,4698,397,243Total, during eight recent years,}$119,860,520$49,145,664
Thus the expenditures for the national armaments under the sanction of Washington were less thaneleven milliondollars, while during a recent similar period of eight years they amounted to upwards ofone hundred and sixty-nine millions,—an increase of nearlyfifteen hundred per cent! To him who quotes the precept of Washington I commend the example. He must be strongly possessed by the martial mania who will not confess, that, in this age, when the whole world is at peace, and our national power is assured,there is less needof these Preparations than in an age convulsed with War, when our national power was little respected. The only semblance of argument in their favor is the increased wealth of the country; but the capacity to endure taxation is no criterion of its justice, or even of its expediency.
Another fallacy is also invoked, thatwhatever is is right. A barbarous practice is elevated above all thoseauthorities by which these Preparations are condemned. We are made to count principles as nothing, because not yet recognized by nations. But they are practically applied in the relations of individuals, towns, counties, and states in our Union.All these have disarmed.It remains only that they should be extended to the grander sphere of nations. Be it our duty to proclaim the principles, whatever the practice. Through us let Truth speak.
From the past and the present auspicious omens cheer us for the future. The terrible wars of the French Revolution were the violent rending of the body preceding the exorcism of the fiend. Since the morning stars first sang together, the world has not witnessed a peace so harmonious and enduring as that which now blesses the Christian nations. Great questions, fraught with strife, and in another age heralds of War, are now determined by Mediation or Arbitration. Great political movements, which a few short years ago must have led to bloody encounter, are now conducted by peaceful discussion. Literature, the press, and innumerable societies, all join in the work of inculcating good-will to man. The Spirit of Humanity pervades the best writings, whether the elevated philosophical inquiries of the "Vestiges of the Creation," the ingenious, but melancholy, moralizings of the "Story of a Feather," or the overflowing raillery of "Punch." Nor can the breathing thought and burning word of poet or orator have a higher inspiration. Genius is never so Promethean as when it bears the heavenly fire to the hearths of men.
In the last age, Dr. Johnson uttered the detestablesentiment, that he liked "a good Hater." The man of this age will say that he likes "a good Lover." Thus reversing the objects of regard, he follows a higher wisdom and a purer religion than the renowned moralist knew. He recognizes that peculiar Heaven-born sentiment, the Brotherhood of Man, soon to become the decisive touchstone of human institutions. He confesses the power of Love, destined to enter more and more into the concerns of life. And as Love is more heavenly than Hate, so must its influence redound more to the true glory of man and the approval of God. A Christian poet—whose few verses bear him with unflagging wing in immortal flight—has joined this sentiment with Prayer. Thus he speaks, in words of uncommon pathos and power:—
"He prayeth well who loveth wellBoth man and bird and beast."He prayeth best who loveth bestAll things, both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all."[104]
"He prayeth well who loveth wellBoth man and bird and beast."He prayeth best who loveth bestAll things, both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all."[104]
"He prayeth well who loveth wellBoth man and bird and beast.
"He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
"He prayeth best who loveth bestAll things, both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all."[104]
"He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."[104]
The ancient Law of Hate is yielding to the Law of Love. It is seen in manifold labors of philanthropy and in missions of charity. It is seen in institutions for the insane, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the poor, the outcast,—in generous efforts to relieve those who are in prison,—in public schools, opening the gates of knowledge to all the children of the land. It is seen in the diffusive amenities of social life, and in the increasing fellowship of nations; also in the rising opposition to Slavery and to War.
There are yet other special auguries of this greatchange, auspicating, in the natural progress of man, the abandonment of all international Preparations for War. To these I allude briefly, but with a deep conviction of their significance.
Look at the Past, and see how War itself is changed, so that its oldest "fire-worshipper" would hardly know it. At first nothing but savagery, with disgusting rites, whether in the North American Indian with Powhatan as chief, or the earlier Assyrian with Nebuchadnezzar as king, but yielding gradually to the influence of civilization. With the Greeks it was less savage, but always barbarous,—also with Rome always barbarous. Too slowly Christianity exerted a humanizing power. Rabelais relates how the friar Jean des Entommeures clubbed twelve thousand and more enemies, "without mentioning women and children, which is understood always." But this was War, as seen by that great genius in his day. This can be no longer. Women and children are safe now. The divine metamorphosis has begun.
Look again at the Past, and observe thechange in dress. Down to a period quite recent the sword was the indispensable companion of the gentleman, wherever he appeared, whether in street or society; but he would be deemed madman or bully who should wear it now. At an earlier period the armor of complete steel was the habiliment of the knight. From the picturesque sketch by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," we learn the barbarous constraint of this custom.
"Ten of them were sheathed in steel,With belted sword, and spur on heel;They quitted not their harness bright,Neither by day nor yet by night:They lay down to restWith corslet laced,Pillowed on buckler cold and hard;They carved at the mealWith gloves of steel,And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred."
"Ten of them were sheathed in steel,With belted sword, and spur on heel;They quitted not their harness bright,Neither by day nor yet by night:They lay down to restWith corslet laced,Pillowed on buckler cold and hard;They carved at the mealWith gloves of steel,And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred."
"Ten of them were sheathed in steel,With belted sword, and spur on heel;They quitted not their harness bright,Neither by day nor yet by night:They lay down to restWith corslet laced,Pillowed on buckler cold and hard;They carved at the mealWith gloves of steel,And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred."
"Ten of them were sheathed in steel,
With belted sword, and spur on heel;
They quitted not their harness bright,
Neither by day nor yet by night:
They lay down to rest
With corslet laced,
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard;
They carved at the meal
With gloves of steel,
And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred."
But all this is changed now.
Observe thechange in architecture and in domestic life. Places once chosen for castles or houses were savage, inaccessible retreats, where the massive structure was reared to repel attack and to enclose its inhabitants. Even monasteries and churches were fortified, and girdled by towers, ramparts, and ditches,—while a child was stationed as watchman, to observe what passed at a distance, and announce the approach of an enemy. Homes of peaceful citizens in towns were castellated, often without so much as an aperture for light near the ground, but with loopholes through which the shafts of the crossbow were aimed. The colored plates now so common, from mediæval illustrations, especially of Froissart, exhibit thesebelligerent armaments, always so burdensome. From a letter of Margaret Paston, in the time of Henry the Sixth, of England, I draw supplementary testimony. Addressing in dutiful phrase her "right worshipful husband," she asks him to procure for her "some crossbows, and wyndacs [grappling-irons] to bind them with, and quarrels [arrows with square heads]," also "two or three short pole-axes to keep within doors"; and she tells her absent lord of apparent preparations by a neighbor,—"great ordnance within the house," "bars to bar the door crosswise," and "wickets on every quarter of the house to shoot out at, both with bows and with hand-guns."[105]Savages could hardly live in greater distrust. Let now the Poet of Chivalry describe another scene:—
"Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men,Waited the beck of the warders ten;Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight,Stood saddled in stable day and night,Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow,And with Jedwood axe at saddle-bow;A hundred more fed free in stall:Such was the custom of Branksome Hall."
"Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men,Waited the beck of the warders ten;Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight,Stood saddled in stable day and night,Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow,And with Jedwood axe at saddle-bow;A hundred more fed free in stall:Such was the custom of Branksome Hall."
"Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men,Waited the beck of the warders ten;Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight,Stood saddled in stable day and night,Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow,And with Jedwood axe at saddle-bow;A hundred more fed free in stall:Such was the custom of Branksome Hall."
"Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men,
Waited the beck of the warders ten;
Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight,
Stood saddled in stable day and night,
Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow,
And with Jedwood axe at saddle-bow;
A hundred more fed free in stall:
Such was the custom of Branksome Hall."
This also is all changed now.
The principles causing this change are not only active still, but increasing in activity; nor can they be confined to individuals. Nations must soon declare them, and, abandoning martial habiliments and fortifications, enter upon peaceful,unarmed life. With shame let it be said, that they continue to live in the very relations of distrust towards neighbors which shock us in the knights of Branksome Hall, and in the house of Margaret Paston. They pillow themselves on "buckler cold and hard," while their highest anxiety and largest expenditure are for the accumulation of new munitions of War. The barbarism which individuals have renounced nations still cherish. So doing, they take counsel of the wild-boar in the fable, who whetted his tusks on a tree of the forest when no enemy was near, saying, that in time of Peace he must prepare for War. Has not the time come, when man, whom God created in his own image, and to whom he gave the Heaven-directed countenance, shall cease to look down to the beast for an example of conduct? Nay, let me not dishonor the beasts by the comparison. The superior animals, at least, prey not, like men, upon their own species. The kingly lion turns from his brother lion;the ferocious tiger will not raven upon his kindred tiger; the wild-boar of the forest does not glut his sharpened tusks upon a kindred boar.
"Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcitCognatis maculis similis fera: quando leoniFortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquamExspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri?Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigridepacemPerpetuam."[106]
"Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcitCognatis maculis similis fera: quando leoniFortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquamExspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri?Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigridepacemPerpetuam."[106]
"Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcitCognatis maculis similis fera: quando leoniFortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquamExspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri?Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigridepacemPerpetuam."[106]
"Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcit
Cognatis maculis similis fera: quando leoni
Fortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquam
Exspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri?
Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigridepacem
Perpetuam."[106]
To an early monarch of France just homage has been offered for effort in the cause of Peace, particularly in abolishing the Trial by Battle. To another monarch of France, in our own day, descendant of St. Louis, and lover of Peace worthy of the illustrious lineage, Louis Philippe, belongs the honest fame of first from the throne publishing the truth that Peace is endangered by Preparations for War. "The sentiment, or rather the principle," he says, in reply to an address from the London Peace Convention in 1843, "that in Peace you must prepare for War,is one of difficulty and danger; for while we keep armies on land to preserve peace, they are at the same time incentives and instruments of war. He rejoiced in all efforts to preserve peace, for that was what all needed. He thought the time was coming when we should get rid entirely of war in all civilized countries." This time has been hailed by a generous voice from the Army itself, by a Marshal of France,—Bugeaud, the Governor of Algiers,—who, at a public dinner in Paris, gave as a toast these words of salutation to a new and approaching era of happiness: "To the pacific union of the great human family, by the association of individuals, nations, and races! To the annihilation of War! To the transformation of destructive armies intocorps of industrious laborers, who will consecrate their lives to the cultivation and embellishment of the world!" Be it our duty to speed this consummation! And may other soldiers emulate the pacific aspiration of this veteran chief, untilthe trade of Warceases from the earth![107]
To William Penn belongs the distinction, destined to brighten as men advance in virtue, of first in human history establishing theLaw of Loveas a rule of conduct in the intercourse of nations. While recognizing the duty "to support power in reverence with the people, and to secure the people from the abuse of power,"[108]as a great end of government, he declined the superfluous protection of arms against foreign force, and aimed to "reduce the savage nations by just and gentle manners to the love of civil society and the Christian religion." His serene countenance, as he stands with his followers in what he called the sweet and clear air of Pennsylvania, all unarmed, beneath the spreading elm, forming the great treaty of friendship with the untutored Indians,—whose savage display fills the surrounding forest as far as the eye can reach,—not to wrest their lands by violence, but to obtain them by peaceful purchase,—is to my mind the proudest picture in the history of our country. "The great God," said the illustrious Quaker, in words of sincerity and truth addressed to the Sachems, "hath written his law in our hearts, by which we are taught and commanded to love and help and do good to one another. It is not our custom to use hostile weapons against our fellow-creatures, for which reason we come unarmed. Our object is not to do injury, but to do good. We are now met on the broad pathway of good faith and good will, so that no advantage is to be taken on either side, but all is to be openness, brotherhood, and love, while all are to be treated as of the same flesh and blood."[109]These are words of True Greatness. "Without any carnal weapons," says one of his companions, "we entered the land, and inhabited therein, as safe as if there had been thousands of garrisons." What a sublime attestation! "This little State," says Oldmixon, "subsisted in the midst of six Indian nations without so much as a militia for its defence." A great man worthy of the mantle of Penn, the venerable philanthropist, Clarkson, in his life of the founder, pictures the people of Pennsylvania as armed, though without arms,—strong, though without strength,—safe, without the ordinary means of safety. According to him, the constable's staff was the only instrument of authority for the greater part of a century; and never, during the administration of Penn, or that of his proper successors, was there a quarrel or a war.[110]
Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king is the divinity that encompasses the righteous man and the righteous people. The flowers of prosperity smiledin the footprints of William Penn. His people were unmolested and happy, while (sad, but true contrast!) other colonies, acting upon the policy of the world, building forts, and showing themselves in arms, were harassed by perpetual alarm, and pierced by the sharp arrows of savage war.
This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy from the caustic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by sympathetic historians. Every ingenuous soul in our day offers willing tribute to those graces of justice and humanity, by the side of which contemporary life on this continent seems coarse and earthy.
Not to barren words can we confine ourselves in recognition of virtue. While we see the right, and approve it too, we must dare to pursue it. Now, in this age of civilization, surrounded by Christian nations, it is easy to follow the successful example of William Penn encompassed by savages. Recognizing those two transcendent ordinances of God, theLaw of Rightand theLaw of Love,—twin suns which illumine the moral universe,—why not aspire to the true glory, and, what is higher than glory, the great good, of taking the lead inthe disarming of the nations? Let us abandon the system of Preparations for War in time of Peace, as irrational, unchristian, vainly prodigal of expense, and having a direct tendency to excite the evil against which it professes to guard. Let the enormous means thus released from iron hands be devoted to labors of beneficence. Our battlements shall be schools, hospitals, colleges, and churches; our arsenals shall be libraries; our navy shall be peaceful ships, on errands of perpetual commerce;our army shall be the teachers of youth and the ministers of religion. This is the cheap defence of nations. In such intrenchments what Christian soul can be touched with fear? Angels of the Lord will throw over the land an invisible, but impenetrable panoply:—
"Or if Virtue feeble were,Heaven itself would stoop to her."[111]
"Or if Virtue feeble were,Heaven itself would stoop to her."[111]
"Or if Virtue feeble were,Heaven itself would stoop to her."[111]
"Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her."[111]
At the thought of such a change, the imagination loses itself in vain effort to follow the multitudinous streams of happiness which gush forth from a thousand hills. Then shall the naked be clothed and the hungry fed; institutions of science and learning shall crown every hill-top; hospitals for the sick, and other retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for all who suffer in any way, in mind, body, or estate, shall nestle in every valley; while the spires of new churches leap exulting to the skies. The whole land shall testify to the change. Art shall confess it in the new inspiration of the canvas and the marble. Theharp of the poet shall proclaim it in a loftier rhyme. Above all, the heart of man shall bear witness to it, in the elevation of his sentiments, in the expansion of his affections, in his devotion to the highest truth, in his appreciation of true greatness. The eagle of our country, without the terror of his beak, and dropping the forceful thunderbolt from his pounces, shall soar, with the olive of Peace, into untried realms of ether, nearer to the sun.
I pause to review the field over which we have passed. We have beheld War, sanctioned by International Law as a mode of determiningjusticebetween nations, elevated into anestablished custom, defined and guarded by a complex code known as the Laws of War; we have detected its origin in an appeal, not to the moral and intellectual part of man's nature, in which alone is Justice, but to that low part which he has in common with the beast; we have contemplated its infinite miseries to the human race; we have weighed its sufficiency as a mode of determining justice between nations, and found that it is a rude invocation to force, or a gigantic game of chance, in which God's children are profanely treated as a pack of cards, while, in unnatural wickedness, it is justly likened to the monstrous and impious custom of Trial by Battle, which disgraced the Dark Ages,—thus showing, that, in this day of boastful civilization, justice between nations is determined by the same rules of barbarous, brutal violence which once controlled the relations between individuals. We have next considered the various prejudices by which War is sustained, founded on a false belief in its necessity,—the practice of nations, past and present,—the infidelity of the Christian Church,—a mistaken sentiment of honor,—an exaggerated idea of the duties of patriotism,—and finally, that monster prejudice which draws its vampire life from the vast Preparations for War in time of Peace;—especially dwelling, at this stage, upon the thriftless, irrational, and unchristian character of these Preparations,—hailing also the auguries of their overthrow,—and catching a vision of the surpassing good that will be achieved, when the boundless means thus barbarously employed are dedicated to works of Peace, opening the serene path to that righteousness which exalteth a nation.
And now, if it be asked why, in considering theTRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, I dwell thus singly and exclusively on War, it is because War is utterly and irreconcilably inconsistent with True Greatness. Thus far, man has worshipped in Military Glory a phantom idol, compared with which the colossal images of ancient Babylon or modern Hindostan are but toys; and we, in this favored land of freedom, in this blessed day of light, are among the idolaters. The Heaven-descended injunction,Know thyself, still speaks to an unheeding world from the far-off letters of gold at Delphi:Know thyself; know that the moral is the noblest part of man, transcending far that which is the seat of passion, strife, and War,—nobler than the intellect itself. And the human heart, in its untutored, spontaneous homage to the virtues of Peace, declares the same truth,—admonishing the military idolater that it is not the bloody combats, even of bravest chiefs, even of gods themselves, as they echo from the resounding lines of the great Poet of War, which receive the warmest admiration, but those two scenes where are painted the gentle, unwarlike affections of our nature, the Parting of Hector from Andromache, and the Supplication of Priam. In the definitive election of these peaceful pictures, the soul of man, inspired by a better wisdom than that of books, and drawn unconsciously by the heavenly attraction of what is truly great, acknowledges, in touching instances, the vanity of Military Glory. The Beatitudes of Christ, which shrink from saying, "Blessed are the War-makers," inculcate the same lesson. Reason affirms and repeats what the heart has prompted and Christianity proclaimed. Suppose War decided byForce, where is the glory? Suppose it decided byChance, where is the glory? Surely, in other ways True Greatness lies. Nor is it difficult to tell where.
True Greatness consists in imitating, as nearly as possible for finite man, the perfections of an Infinite Creator,—above all, in cultivating those highest perfections, Justice and Love: Justice, which, like that of St. Louis, does not swerve to the right hand or to the left; Love, which, like that of William Penn, regards all mankind as of kin. "God is angry," says Plato, "when any one censures a man like Himself,or praises a man of an opposite character: and the godlike man is the good man."[112]Again, in another of those lovely dialogues precious with immortal truth: "Nothing resembles God more than that man among us who has attained to the highest degree of justice."[113]The True Greatness of Nations is in those qualities which constitute the true greatness of the individual. It is not in extent of territory, or vastness of population, or accumulation ofwealth,—not in fortifications, or armies, or navies,—not in the sulphurous blaze of battle,—not in Golgothas, though covered by monuments that kiss the clouds; for all these are creatures and representatives of those qualities in our nature which are unlike anything in God's nature. Nor is it in triumphs of the intellect alone,—in literature, learning, science, or art. The polished Greeks, our masters in the delights of art, and the commanding Romans, overawing the earth with their power, were little more than splendid savages. And the age of Louis the Fourteenth, of France, spanning so long a period of ordinary worldly magnificence, thronged by marshals bending under military laurels, enlivened by the unsurpassed comedy of Molière, dignified by the tragic genius of Corneille, illumined by the splendors of Bossuet, is degraded by immoralities that cannot be mentioned without a blush, by a heartlessness in comparison with which the ice of Nova Zembla is warm, and by a succession of deeds of injustice not to be washed out by the tears of all the recording angels of Heaven.
The True Greatness of a Nation cannot be in triumphs of the intellect alone. Literature and art may enlarge the sphere of its influence; they may adorn it; but in their nature they are but accessaries.The True Grandeur of Humanity is in moral elevation, sustained, enlightened, and decorated by the intellect of man.The surest tokens of this grandeur in a nation are that Christian Beneficence which diffuses the greatest happiness among all, and that passionless, godlike Justice which controls the relations of the nation to other nations, and to all the people committed to its charge.
But War crushes with bloody heel all beneficence, all happiness, all justice, all that is godlike in man,—suspending every commandment of the Decalogue, setting at naught every principle of the Gospel, and silencing all law, human as well as divine, except only that impious code of its own, theLaws of War. If in its dismal annals there is any cheerful passage, be assured it is not inspired by a martial Fury. Let it not be forgotten, let it be ever borne in mind, as you ponder this theme, that the virtues which shed their charm over its horrors are all borrowed of Peace,—that they are emanations from the Spirit of Love, which is so strong in the heart of man that it survives the rudest assault. The flowers of gentleness, kindliness, fidelity, humanity, which flourish unregarded in the rich meadows of Peace, receive unwonted admiration when we discern them in War,—like violets shedding their perfume on the perilous edge of the precipice, beyond the smiling borders of civilization. God be praised for all the examples of magnanimous virtue which he has vouchsafed to mankind! God be praised, that the Roman Emperor, about to start on a distant expedition of War, encompassed by squadrons of cavalry, and by golden eagles swaying in the wind, stooped from his saddle to hear the prayer of a humble widow, demanding justice for the death of her son![114]God be praised, that Sidney, on the field of battle, gave with dying hand the cup of cold water to the dying soldier! That single act ofself-forgetful sacrifice has consecrated the deadly field of Zutphen, far, oh, far beyond its battle; it has consecrated thy name, gallant Sidney, beyond any feat of thy sword, beyond any triumph of thy pen! But there are lowly suppliants in other places than the camp; there are hands outstretched elsewhere than on fields of blood. Everywhere is opportunity for deeds of like charity. Know well that these are not the product of War. They do not spring from enmity, hatred, and strife, but from those benign sentiments whose natural and ripened fruit of joy and blessing are found only in Peace. If at any time they appear in the soldier, it is lessbecausethannotwithstandinghe is the hireling of battle. Let me not be told, then, of the virtues of War. Let not the acts of generosity and sacrifice sometimes blossoming on its fields be invoked in its defence. From such a giant root of bitterness no true good can spring. The poisonous tree, in Oriental imagery, though watered by nectar and covered with roses, produces only the fruit of death.
Casting our eyes over the history of nations, with horror we discern the succession of murderous slaughters by which their progress is marked. Even as the hunter follows the wild beast to his lair by the drops of blood on the ground, so we follow Man, faint, weary, staggering with wounds, through the Black Forest of the Past, which he has reddened with his gore. Oh, let it not be in the future ages as in those we now contemplate! Let the grandeur of man be discerned, not in bloody victory or ravenous conquest, but in the blessings he has secured, in the good he has accomplished, in the triumphs of Justice and Beneficence, in the establishment of Perpetual Peace!
As ocean washes every shore, and with all-embracing arms clasps every land, while on its heaving bosom it bears the products of various climes, so Peace surrounds, protects, and upholds all other blessings. Without it, commerce is vain, the ardor of industry is restrained, justice is arrested, happiness is blasted, virtue sickens and dies.
Peace, too, has its own peculiar victories, in comparison with which Marathon and Bannockburn and Bunker Hill, fields sacred in the history of human freedom, lose their lustre. Our own Washington rises to a truly heavenly stature, not when we follow him through the ice of the Delaware to the capture of Trenton, not when we behold him victorious over Cornwallis at Yorktown, but when we regard him, in noble deference to Justice, refusing the kingly crown which a faithless soldiery proffered, and at a later day upholding the peaceful neutrality of the country, while he met unmoved the clamor of the people wickedly crying for War. What glory of battle in England's annals will not fade by the side of that great act of justice, when her Parliament, at a cost of one hundred million dollars, gave freedom to eight hundred thousand slaves? And when the day shall come (may these eyes be gladdened by its beams!) that shall witness an act of larger justice still,—the peaceful emancipation of three million fellow-men "guilty of a skin not colored as our own," now, in this land of jubilant freedom, bound in gloomy bondage,—then will there be a victory by the side of which that of Bunker Hill will be as the farthing candle held up to the sun. That victory will need no monument of stone. It will be written on the grateful hearts of countless multitudes that shall proclaim it to thelatest generation. It will be one of the famed landmarks of civilization,—or, better still, a link in the golden chain by which Humanity connects itself with the throne of God.
As man is higher than the beasts of the field, as the angels are higher than man, as Christ is higher than Mars, as he that ruleth his spirit is higher than he that taketh a city,—so are the victories of Peace higher than the victories of War.
Far be from us, fellow-citizens, on this festival, the pride of national victory, and the illusion of national freedom, in which we are too prone to indulge! None of you make rude boast of individual prosperity or prowess. And here I end as I began. Our country cannot do what an individual cannot do. Therefore it must not vaunt or be puffed up. Rather bend to unperformed duties. Independence is not all. We have but half done, when we have made ourselves free. The scornful taunt wrung from bitter experience of the great Revolution in France must not be levelled at us: "They wish to befree, but know not how to bejust."[115]Nor is priceless Freedom an end in itself, but rather the means of Justice and Beneficence, where alone is enduring concord, with that attendant happiness which is the final end and aim of Nations, as of every human heart. It is not enough to be free. There must be Peace which cannot fail, and other nations must share the great possession. For this good must we labor, bearing ever in mind two special objects, complements of each other: first, the Arbitrament of War must end; and,secondly, Disarmament must begin. With this ending and this beginning the great gates of the Future will be opened, and the guardian virtues will assert a new empire. Alas! until this is done, National Honor and National Glory will yet longer flaunt in blood, and there can be no True Grandeur of Nations.
To this great work let me summon you. That Future, which filled the lofty vision of sages and bards in Greece and Rome, which was foretold by Prophets and heralded by Evangelists, when man, in Happy Isles, or in a new Paradise, shall confess the loveliness of Peace, may you secure, if not for yourselves, at least for your children!Believethat you can do it, and youcando it. The true Golden Age is before, not behind. If man has once been driven from Paradise, while an angel with flaming sword forbade his return, there is another Paradise, even on earth, which he may make for himself, by the cultivation of knowledge, religion, and the kindly virtues of life,—where the confusion of tongues shall be dissolved in the union of hearts, and joyous Nature, borrowing prolific charms from prevailing Harmony, shall spread her lap with unimagined bounty, and there shall be perpetual jocund Spring, and sweet strains borne on "the odoriferous wing of gentle gales," through valleys of delight more pleasant than the Vale of Tempe, richer than the Garden of the Hesperides, with no dragon to guard its golden fruit.
Is it said that the age does not demand this work? The robber conqueror of the Past, from fiery sepulchre, demands it; the precious blood of millions unjustly shed in War, crying from the ground, demands it; the heart of the good man demands it; the conscience, even of the soldier, whispers, "Peace!" There areconsiderations springing from our situation and condition which fervently invite us to take the lead. Here should join the patriotic ardor of the land, the ambition of the statesman, the effort of the scholar, the pervasive influence of the press, the mild persuasion of the sanctuary, the early teaching of the school. Here, in ampler ether and diviner air, are untried fields for exalted triumph, more truly worthy the American name than any snatched from rivers of blood. War is known as theLast Reason of Kings. Let it be no reason of our Republic. Let us renounce and throw off forever the yoke of a tyranny most oppressive of all in the world's annals. As those standing on the mountain-top first discern the coming beams of morning, so may we, from the vantage-ground of liberal institutions, first recognize the ascending sun of a new era! Lift high the gates, and let the King of Glory in,—the King of True Glory,—of Peace! I catch the last words of music from the lips of innocence and beauty,[116]—
"And let the whole earth be filled with His Glory!"
It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there was at least one spot, the small island of Delos, dedicated to the gods, and kept at all times sacred from War. No hostile foot ever pressed this kindly soil, and citizens of all countries met here, in common worship, beneath the ægis of inviolable Peace. So let us dedicate our beloved country; and may the blessed consecration be felt in all its parts, everywhere throughout its ample domain! The Temple of Honor shallbe enclosed by the Temple of Concord, that it may never more be entered through any portal of War; the horn of Abundance shall overflow at its gates; the angel of Religion shall be the guide over its steps of flashing adamant; while within its happy courts, purged of Violence and Wrong,Justice, returned to the earth from long exile in the skies, with equal scales for nations as for men, shall rear her serene and majestic front; and by her side, greatest of all,Charity, sublime in meekness, hoping all and enduring all, shall divinely temper every righteous decree, and with words of infinite cheer inspire to those deeds that cannot vanish away. And the future chief of the Republic, destined to uphold the glories of a new era, unspotted by human blood, shall be first in Peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen.
While seeking these fruitful glories for ourselves, let us strive for their extension to other lands. Let the bugles sound theTruce of Godto the whole world forever. Not to one people, but to every people, let the glad tidings go. The selfish boast of the Spartan women, that they never saw the smoke of an enemy's camp, must become the universal chorus of mankind, while the iron belt of War, now encompassing the globe, is exchanged for the golden cestus of Peace, clothing all with celestial beauty. History dwells with fondness on the reverent homage bestowed by massacring soldiers upon the spot occupied by the sepulchre of the Lord. Vain man! why confine regard to a few feet of sacred mould? The whole earth is the sepulchre of the Lord; nor can any righteous man profane any part thereof. Confessing this truth, let us now, on this Sabbath of the Nation, lay a new and living stone in the grand Temple of Universal Peace, whose dome shall be lofty as the firmament of heaven, broad and comprehensive as earth itself.
THE LATE JOSEPH STORY.
Article from the Boston Daily Advertiser, September 16, 1845.
Ihave just returned from the funeral of this great and good man. Under that roof where I have so often seen him in health, buoyant with life, exuberant in kindness, happy in family and friends, I stood by his mortal remains sunk in eternal rest, and gazed upon those well-loved features from which even the icy touch of death had not effaced all the living beauty. The eye was quenched, and the glow of life extinguished; but the noble brow seemed still to shelter, as under a marble dome, the spirit that had fled. And is he dead, I asked myself,—whose face was never turned to me, except in affection,—who has filled the civilized world with his name, and drawn to his country the homage of foreign nations,—who was of activity and labor that knew no rest,—who was connected with so many circles by duties of such various kinds, by official ties, by sympathy, by friendship and love,—who, according to the beautiful expression of Wilberforce, "touched life at so many points,"—has he, indeed, passed away? Upon the small plate on the coffin was inscribed,Joseph Story,died September 10th, 1845, aged 66 years. These few words might apply to the lowly citizen, as tothe illustrious Judge. Thus is the coffin-plate a register of the equality of men.
At his well-known house we joined in religious worship. The Rev. Dr. Walker, present head of the University, in earnest prayer, commended his soul to God who gave it, and invoked upon family and friends a consecration of their afflictive bereavement. From this service we followed, in mournful procession, to the resting-place which he had selected for himself and his family, amidst the beautiful groves of Mount Auburn. As the procession filed into the cemetery I was moved by the sight of the numerous pupils of the Law School, with uncovered heads and countenances of sorrow, ranged on each side of the road within the gate, testifying by silent and unexpected homage their last reverence to their departed teacher. Around the grave, as he was laid in the embrace of the mother earth, were gathered all in our community most distinguished in law, learning, literature, station,—Judges of our Courts, Professors of the University, surviving classmates, and a thick cluster of friends. He was placed among the children taken from him in early life.Of such is the kingdom of heavenwere the words he had inscribed over their names on the simple marble which now commemorates alike the children and their father. Nor is there a child in heaven of more childlike innocence and purity than he, who, full of years and honors, has gone to mingle with these children.
There is another sentence, inscribed by him on this family stone, which speaks to us now with a voice of consolation.Sorrow not as those without hopewere the words which brought solace to him in his bereavements. From his bed beneath he seems to whisper thusamong his mourning family and friends,—most especially to her, the chosen partner of his life, from whom so much of human comfort is apparently removed. He is indeed gone; but we shall see him once more forever. With this blessed trust, we may find happiness in dwelling upon his virtues and fame on earth, till the great consoler, Time, shall come with healing in his wings.
From the grave of the Judge I walked a few short steps to that of his classmate and friend, the beloved Channing, who died less than three years ago, aged sixty-two. Thus these companions in early studies—each afterwards foremost in important duties, pursuing divergent paths, yet always drawn towards each other by the attractions of mutual friendship—again meet and lie down together in the same sweet earth, in the shadow of kindred trees, through which the same birds sing a perpetual requiem.
The afternoon was of unusual brilliancy, and the full-orbed sun gilded with mellow light the funereal stones through which I wound my way, as I sought the grave of another friend, the first colleague of the departed Judge in the duties of the Law School,—Professor Ashmun. After a life crowded with usefulness, he laid down the burden of disease which he had long borne, at the early age of thirty-three. I remember listening, in 1833, to the flowing discourse which Story pronounced, in the College Chapel, over the departed; nor can I forget his deep emotion, as we stood together at the foot of the grave, while the earth fell, dust to dust, upon the coffin of his friend.
Wandering through this silent city of the dead, I called to mind those words of Beaumont on the Tombs in Westminster Abbey:—