The Unknown Speaker.It is the Fourth Day of July, 1776.In the old State-house[1476]in the city of Philadelphia are gathered half a hundred men to strike[1477]from their limbs the shackles of British despotism. There is silence[1478]in the hall—every face is turned toward the door[1479]where the committee of three, who have been out all night penning a parchment, are soon to enter. The door opens, the committee appears.[1480]That tall man[1481]with the sharp features, the bold brow, and the sand-hued hair, holding the parchment in his hand, is a Virginia farmer, Thomas Jefferson. That stout-built man[1482]with stern look and flashing eye, is a Boston man, one John Adams. And that calm-faced man[1483]with hair drooping in thick curlsto his shoulders, that[1484]is the Philadelphia printer, Benjamin Franklin.The three advance to the table.[1485]The parchment is laid[1486]there.Shall it be signed or not? A fierce debate ensues. Jefferson[1487]speaks a few bold words. Adams[1488]pours out his whole soul. The deep-toned voice of Lee[1489]is heard, swelling[1490]in syllables of thunder-like music. But still there is doubt, and one pale-faced man whispers something about “axes,[1491]scaffolds, and gibbet.”“Gibbet?” echoes a fierce, bold voice through the hall. “Gibbet? They may stretch our necks on all[1492]the gibbets in the land; they may turn every rock[1493]into a scaffold; every tree[1494]into a gallows; every home[1495]into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment[1496]there can never[1497]die! They may pour our blood[1498]on a thousand scaffolds, and yet from every drop that dyes the axe a new champion of freedom will spring[1499]into birth. The British King may blot out[1500]the stars of God from the sky, but he cannot blot out His words written on that parchment[1501]there. The works[1502]of God may perish; His words, never![1503]“The words of this declaration will live in the world long after our bones are dust. To the mechanic[1504]in his workshop they will speak hope; to the slave[1505]in the mines, freedom; but to the coward kings,[1506]these words will speak in tones of warning[1507]they cannot choose but hear.“They will be terrible as the flaming syllables on Belshazzar’s wall![1508]They will speak in language startling as the trump of the Archangel[1509]saying: ‘You have trampled on mankind long enough! At last the voice of human woe has pierced[1510]the ear of God, and called His judgment down! You have waded[1511]to thrones through rivers of blood; you have trampled[1512]on the necks of millions of fellow-beings. Now kings, now purple hangmen, for you[1513]come the days of axes and gibbets and scaffolds.’“Such is the message of that declaration to mankind,[1514]to the kings of the earth. And shall we falter now? And shall we start back[1515]appalled when our feet touch the very threshold[1516]of Freedom?“Sign[1517]that parchment! Sign,[1518]if the next moment the gibbet’s rope is about your neck! Sign,[1519]if the next minute this hall rings[1520]with the clash of the falling axes! Sign[1521]by all your hopes in life or death, as men, as husbands,[1522]as fathers,[1523]brothers,[1524]sign your names to the parchment, or be accursed[1525]forever!“Sign, and not only for yourselves, but for all ages,[1526]for that parchment will be the text-book of freedom,[1527]the Bible[1528]of the rights of men forever. Nay,[1529]do not start and whisper with surprise! It is truth,[1530]your own hearts witness it; God[1531]proclaims it. Look at this strange history of a band[1532]of exiles and outcasts, suddenly transformed into a people,[1533]a handful of[1534]men, weak in arms, but mighty[1535]in God-like faith; nay, look at your recent achievements, your Bunker Hill,[1536]your Lexington,[1537]and then tell me, if you can,[1538]that God has not given America to be free!“It is not given to our poor human intellect to climb to the skies,[1539]and to pierce[1540]the councils of the Almighty One. But methinks I stand among the awful clouds[1541]which veil[1542]the brightness of Jehovah’s throne.“Methinks I see the recording angel[1543]come trembling up to that throne to speak his dread message. ‘Father,[1544]the old world is baptized[1545]in blood. Father, look with one glance of Thine eternal eye, and behold evermore that terrible[1546]sight, man trodden beneath the oppressor’s feet, nations lost in blood, murder and superstition walking hand in hand over the graves of the victims, and not a single voice[1547]to whisper hope to man!’“He stands there,[1548]the angel, trembling with the record of human guilt. But hark![1549]The voice of Jehovah speaks from out the awful cloud: ‘Let there be light again! Tell my people, the poor and oppressed, to go out from the old world, from oppression and blood, and build my altar in the new!’“As I live, my friends, I believe that to be His voice! Yes, were my soul trembling on the verge[1550]of eternity, were this hand[1551]freezing in death, were this voice choking[1552]in the last struggle, I would still, with the last impulse of that soul, with the last wave[1553]of that hand, with the last gasp of that voice, implore[1554]you to remember this truth—God has given America to be free![1555]Yes, as I sank[1556]into the gloomy shadows of the grave, with my last faint whisper I would beg you to sign[1557]thatparchment for the sake of the millions whose very breath is now hushed[1558]in intense expectation as they look up to you for the awful words, ‘You are free!’”[1559]The unknown speaker fell exhausted in his seat, but the work was done. A wild murmur runs[1560]through the hall. “Sign!” There is no doubt now. Look how they rush forward![1561]Stout-hearted John Hancock has scarcely time to sign his bold name before the pen is grasped by another,[1562]another,[1563]and another.[1564]Look how the names blaze[1565]on the parchment! Adams and Lee, Jefferson and Carroll, Franklin and Sherman!And now the parchment is signed.Now, old man[1566]in the steeple, now bare your arm and let the bell speak![1567]Hark[1568]to the music of that bell! Is there not a poetry in that sound, a poetry more sublime than that of Shakespeare[1569]and Milton? Is there not a music in that sound that reminds you of those sublime tones which broke from angel lips when the news of the child Jesus burst on the hill-tops of Bethlehem?[1570]For the tones of that bell now come pealing, pealing, pealing.[1571]“Independence now[1572]and Independence forever.”[1573]Gestures.[1476]H. O.[1477]B. D. L.[1478]P. H. O.[1479]Left H. O.[1480]Left H. O.[1481]Left Ind. H. O.[1482]Left Ind. H. O.[1483]Left H. O.[1484]Left Ind. H. O.[1485]Right hand sweep from left to H. F.[1486]P. H. F.[1487]H. O.[1488]Left H. O.[1489]H. F.[1490]H. Sw.[1491]Hand to mouth, sustained.[1492]B. H. O.[1493]D. O.[1494]H. O.[1495]Left H. O.[1496]Ind. H. F.[1497]Ind. D. F.[1498]B. D. F.[1499]Raise P.[1500]V. A. Sw.[1501]Ind. H. F.[1502]H. O.[1503]D. O.[1504]H. O.[1505]Left D. O.[1506]P. Ind. H. O.[1507]Ind. Impulses.[1508]Trace as though on wall.[1509]A. O.[1510]Ind. A. O.[1511]B. H. F., palms facing.[1512]B. P. D. O.[1513]H. O.[1514]H. Sw.[1515]Sp. body.[1516]D. F.[1517]-[1518]-[1519]Ind. H. F.[1520]A. Sw.[1521]Ind. H. F.[1522]H. O.[1523]-[1524]Impulses.[1525]Cli. D.[1526]B. H. O.[1527]A. O.[1528]H. O.[1529]V. H. F.[1530]H. F.[1531]A. O.[1532]H. F.[1533]H. O.[1534]H. F.[1535]Cli. raised.[1536]H. O.[1537]Imp.[1538]H. F.[1539]A. O.[1540]Ind. A. O.[1541]B. A. O.[1542]B. V. A. O.[1543]A. O.[1544]A. O., sustained to victims; eyes follow this gesture.[1545]Left P. D. L.[1546]Left V. D. L.[1547]B. D. L.[1548]A. O.[1549]Lis. to R. A., sustained during and to end of quotation.[1550]D. F.[1551]H. F.[1552]To throat.[1553]Sp.[1554]B. H. F.[1555]B. H. O.[1556]B. D. F.[1557]Ind. H. F.][1558]B. P. H. O.[1559]B. H. O.[1560]H. Sw.[1561]H. F.[1562]-[1563]-[1564]Imps.[1565]Trace with finger.[1566]A. F.[1567]A. Sw.[1568]Lis.[1569]Left H. L.[1570]Left H. B.[1571]A. Sw.[1572]H. F.[1573]H. Sw.
It is the Fourth Day of July, 1776.
In the old State-house[1476]in the city of Philadelphia are gathered half a hundred men to strike[1477]from their limbs the shackles of British despotism. There is silence[1478]in the hall—every face is turned toward the door[1479]where the committee of three, who have been out all night penning a parchment, are soon to enter. The door opens, the committee appears.[1480]That tall man[1481]with the sharp features, the bold brow, and the sand-hued hair, holding the parchment in his hand, is a Virginia farmer, Thomas Jefferson. That stout-built man[1482]with stern look and flashing eye, is a Boston man, one John Adams. And that calm-faced man[1483]with hair drooping in thick curlsto his shoulders, that[1484]is the Philadelphia printer, Benjamin Franklin.
The three advance to the table.[1485]
The parchment is laid[1486]there.
Shall it be signed or not? A fierce debate ensues. Jefferson[1487]speaks a few bold words. Adams[1488]pours out his whole soul. The deep-toned voice of Lee[1489]is heard, swelling[1490]in syllables of thunder-like music. But still there is doubt, and one pale-faced man whispers something about “axes,[1491]scaffolds, and gibbet.”
“Gibbet?” echoes a fierce, bold voice through the hall. “Gibbet? They may stretch our necks on all[1492]the gibbets in the land; they may turn every rock[1493]into a scaffold; every tree[1494]into a gallows; every home[1495]into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment[1496]there can never[1497]die! They may pour our blood[1498]on a thousand scaffolds, and yet from every drop that dyes the axe a new champion of freedom will spring[1499]into birth. The British King may blot out[1500]the stars of God from the sky, but he cannot blot out His words written on that parchment[1501]there. The works[1502]of God may perish; His words, never![1503]
“The words of this declaration will live in the world long after our bones are dust. To the mechanic[1504]in his workshop they will speak hope; to the slave[1505]in the mines, freedom; but to the coward kings,[1506]these words will speak in tones of warning[1507]they cannot choose but hear.
“They will be terrible as the flaming syllables on Belshazzar’s wall![1508]They will speak in language startling as the trump of the Archangel[1509]saying: ‘You have trampled on mankind long enough! At last the voice of human woe has pierced[1510]the ear of God, and called His judgment down! You have waded[1511]to thrones through rivers of blood; you have trampled[1512]on the necks of millions of fellow-beings. Now kings, now purple hangmen, for you[1513]come the days of axes and gibbets and scaffolds.’
“Such is the message of that declaration to mankind,[1514]to the kings of the earth. And shall we falter now? And shall we start back[1515]appalled when our feet touch the very threshold[1516]of Freedom?
“Sign[1517]that parchment! Sign,[1518]if the next moment the gibbet’s rope is about your neck! Sign,[1519]if the next minute this hall rings[1520]with the clash of the falling axes! Sign[1521]by all your hopes in life or death, as men, as husbands,[1522]as fathers,[1523]brothers,[1524]sign your names to the parchment, or be accursed[1525]forever!
“Sign, and not only for yourselves, but for all ages,[1526]for that parchment will be the text-book of freedom,[1527]the Bible[1528]of the rights of men forever. Nay,[1529]do not start and whisper with surprise! It is truth,[1530]your own hearts witness it; God[1531]proclaims it. Look at this strange history of a band[1532]of exiles and outcasts, suddenly transformed into a people,[1533]a handful of[1534]men, weak in arms, but mighty[1535]in God-like faith; nay, look at your recent achievements, your Bunker Hill,[1536]your Lexington,[1537]and then tell me, if you can,[1538]that God has not given America to be free!
“It is not given to our poor human intellect to climb to the skies,[1539]and to pierce[1540]the councils of the Almighty One. But methinks I stand among the awful clouds[1541]which veil[1542]the brightness of Jehovah’s throne.
“Methinks I see the recording angel[1543]come trembling up to that throne to speak his dread message. ‘Father,[1544]the old world is baptized[1545]in blood. Father, look with one glance of Thine eternal eye, and behold evermore that terrible[1546]sight, man trodden beneath the oppressor’s feet, nations lost in blood, murder and superstition walking hand in hand over the graves of the victims, and not a single voice[1547]to whisper hope to man!’
“He stands there,[1548]the angel, trembling with the record of human guilt. But hark![1549]The voice of Jehovah speaks from out the awful cloud: ‘Let there be light again! Tell my people, the poor and oppressed, to go out from the old world, from oppression and blood, and build my altar in the new!’
“As I live, my friends, I believe that to be His voice! Yes, were my soul trembling on the verge[1550]of eternity, were this hand[1551]freezing in death, were this voice choking[1552]in the last struggle, I would still, with the last impulse of that soul, with the last wave[1553]of that hand, with the last gasp of that voice, implore[1554]you to remember this truth—God has given America to be free![1555]Yes, as I sank[1556]into the gloomy shadows of the grave, with my last faint whisper I would beg you to sign[1557]thatparchment for the sake of the millions whose very breath is now hushed[1558]in intense expectation as they look up to you for the awful words, ‘You are free!’”[1559]
The unknown speaker fell exhausted in his seat, but the work was done. A wild murmur runs[1560]through the hall. “Sign!” There is no doubt now. Look how they rush forward![1561]Stout-hearted John Hancock has scarcely time to sign his bold name before the pen is grasped by another,[1562]another,[1563]and another.[1564]Look how the names blaze[1565]on the parchment! Adams and Lee, Jefferson and Carroll, Franklin and Sherman!
And now the parchment is signed.
Now, old man[1566]in the steeple, now bare your arm and let the bell speak![1567]Hark[1568]to the music of that bell! Is there not a poetry in that sound, a poetry more sublime than that of Shakespeare[1569]and Milton? Is there not a music in that sound that reminds you of those sublime tones which broke from angel lips when the news of the child Jesus burst on the hill-tops of Bethlehem?[1570]For the tones of that bell now come pealing, pealing, pealing.[1571]“Independence now[1572]and Independence forever.”[1573]
Gestures.