b'r _ \n\n\n\nE 297 \n\nG22 \nCopy 1 \n\n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 . \xe2\x96\xa0 \xe2\x80\xa2 \xe2\x96\xa0 . \xe2\x80\xa2 \n\n\n\n\n^9 ACTA p Hq \n\n\n\n7* \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0"""\xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0mini \n\n\n\n-THE \n\n\n\nU REVOLUTION, WASHINGTON :- B \n\n\n\nAND THE \n\nGGNeTITUTIGN: \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0jura \n\xe2\x96\xa0 iini.i \n\n\n\nWEBb Ik \n\n\n\nA HISTORICAL LECTURE , BY \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 l: \n\nI BET. ABRAHAM SYLVESTER\' GABDIMER, A. H., : \n\nPASTOR OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, \n\nI B \n\nMILFORD, PIKE CO., PA. \n\n3 DELIVERED O? THE 22 OF FEBRUARY IN VARIOUS PLACES \xc2\xbb \nTHROUGH SUCCESSIVE YEARS. \n\nni \n\nmi \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0\xe2\x80\xa2 Where may tlie weaiiod eye n , \n\nWhen gazing on the Great- \nwin re neither sru\'lty glory glows, \n\nNov despicable stale ? \n\nh\xe2\x80\x94 tli ,n\'st\xe2\x80\x94 tin- last\xe2\x80\x94 the best- \nTin\' Cineinna^us of the W \nWhom envy dared not li ite, \n\nthen the name of Washington \no make turn blusl there was but one ! \'\xe2\x80\x94 BYRON. \n\n\n\n1886. \n\n\n\n;..\xe2\x96\xa0\xe2\x96\xa0\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x96\xa0\xe2\x96\xa0>\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2 \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 \xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2>\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 \xc2\xab \n\ni \xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n\n\n\nClass E \n\nBook \n\nCopyright N?._ \n\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; \n\n\n\n\xe2\x80\x9e^US ACTA P Ho ^__ \n\nC ( \xc2\xa7\' | migl" 1 3 \n\ns \xe2\x80\x94 -1 \xe2\x96\xa0 iiiimi F \n\n-THE- \n\n-: REVOLUTION, WASHINGTON :- \n\nAND THE \n\nCONSTITUTION: \n\nA HISTORICAL LECTURE, BY \n\nREV. ABRAHAM SYLVESTER GARDINER, A. I, \n\nPASTOR OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, \n\nMILFORD, PIKE CO., PA. \n\nDELIVERED ON THE 22 OF FEBRUARY. IX VARIOUS PLACES \nTHROUGH SUCCESSIVE YEARS. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\'\xe2\x80\xa2 Where may the wearied eve repose \n\nWhen gazing on the GreaV- \nWliere neither guilty glory glows, q, ^ -, . \n\nNor despicable state ? \nres\xe2\x80\x94 one\xe2\x80\x94 the first\xe2\x80\x94 the last\xe2\x80\x94the best\xe2\x80\x94 \nThe Clnclnnatns of the West, \n\nWhom envy dared not hate. \n\nBequeathed the name of Washington \n\nTo make nun blush there was but one \'."\xe2\x80\x94 Byrox. v\\. \n\n\n\n1886. \n\n\n\nEntered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1886 bj \n\nKEV. ABRAHAM SYLVESTER CARDIAL \n\n111 the ^ce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. \n\n\n\nPSION PKIJTT, PORT JEBTIS, N. y. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\ni \n\n\n\n\n\nre \n\n\n\n\nd \n\n\ns \n\n\nVs \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nDEDICATION. \n\nTO THE MEMORY OF OUR BELOVED DAUGHTER, \n\nJULIA EVANGELINE GARDINER, \n\nWho, with lamp trimmed and burning, heard the midnight cry, "Behold, \nthe Bridegroom cometh!" and, being ready, "went in with Him to \nthe marriage," Sabbath morning, August 26lh, 1882, at the early age \nof twenty-two years and ten months : a student at Wellesley \nCollege, Massachusetts, in 1877-8, and one of the two first \nDegree-Graduates of Rockford Female College, Rock- \nford, Illinois, in 1882: at whose instance this Lecture \nwas delivered, February 22nd, of the same \nyear, before the Senior Class, at that time \nengaged in the study of the \n\nCONSTITUTION OF the UNITED STATES, \n\nOf which class she was a member.- and whose name I wish to be associated \n\nwith my own so long as any act of my life, and any utterances \n\nof my tongue or pen, shall be held in friendly remembrance \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nTHIS LECTURE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED \n\n)\'\xc2\xbbY HER BEREAVED FATHER. \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2\'(,ii. Gentle Spirit, to thy destined rest : \n\nWhile [,\xe2\x80\x94 reversed our Nature\'s kindlier doom,\xe2\x80\x94 \n\nPour forth a Father\'s sorrow on thy tomb." \n\nALSO \n\nTO THE YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN OF AMERICA, \nTo whom has been bequeathed the noble heritage of \n\nA FREE REPUBLIC; \n\nWho will be eager to learn its history, and to examine the solid founda- \ntions on which it rests: and who, estimating its value by what it \ncost, will be inspired to transmit it unimpaired to their posterity, \n\nThis Lecture is Respectfully Inscribed \n\nby their fellow-countryman, \n\nABRAHAM S.GARDINER. \n\n\n\nMilford, Pa . Feb. 22nd, L886. \n\n\n\nLECTURE. \n\n\n\nLadies and Gentlemen : I propose to speak to you to-night \nupon the Revolution, Washington, and the Constitution. The \nday we celebrate suggests the theme. This is the Anni- \nversary of Washington\'s birth. These topics are so closely asso- \nciated that they can scarcely be severed. Yet neither together ,nor \nsingly, can they be fully considered within the limits of a lecture. \nWhile it would be eminently proper to retrace the remarkable \nevents which distinguished the career of Washington, and to \nreproduce the life that rendered his country and age illustrious, \nand while it would not be less appropriate to recount the marches, \nprivations, and battles of the Revolution,we shall call your atten- \ntion chiefly to the great result which has come to us in the Con- \nstitution of the United States. The monument to the memory \nof Washington, just completed and dedicated in the city which \nbears his name, the capitol of the Republic, towers above St. \nPeter\'s at Rome, above the pyramids of Egypt, and above every \nstructure hitherto erected by human hands. In like manner \ndoes the Constitution, suggested by Washington, drawn up in the \nConvention of which he was President and transmitted by him \nwith his signature to the Continental Congress, accompanied by \nan earnest letter commending it for adoption by the Confederated \nStates, rise above all the forms of government that have hitherto \nappeared in the annals of history. \n\nIn the review which is to be taken by us this evening we shall \nsee that the work of W ashington and his associates could scarcely \nhave been accomplished at an earlier period. The way had to be \nprepared. Innumerable agencies, operating through long periods \nand in many lands, must precede so desirable a consummation. \n\nIn nothing is this more perceptible than, in that climax of \npolitical wisdom to which we have just referred, and which, in its \n\n\n\n2 \n\n\n\nhistorical relations, and in honor of the day we celebrate, we now \nproceed to consider. \n\nAs already intimated, a complete study of the Constitution of \nthe United States demands the consideration of times, persons \nand influences which are quite distinct and indeed remote from \nthose immediately connected with its formation. Its origin can- \nnot be found in any one mind, language, country, or period. It \nis the fruit of a tree whose roots penetrate the recesses of the \npast. It is the result of a series of events whose bearings and im- \nportance were not fully known, even to those by whom they were \nsuece.-sivelv achieved. These men, with all their devotion and \nhopes, built more wisely than they knew. The "Republic" of \nPlato, the glowing speculations of Cicero, among the ancients ; \nthe "Utopia" of Sir Thomas Moore; the "Arcadia" of Sidney . \nthe political disquisitions of Milton and of Locke, in modern times; \ndisclose rather what these writers wished than what they ex- \npected. But their influence has survived them in these imperish- \nable works, and has been a powerful factor in the progress of \nmen on the line of intellectual, moral and political development. \nThey saw through a glass darkly what we behold face to face. \n\nThe historical sources and accompaniments of the National \nConstitution, and not the Constitution itself, now claim our \nattention. Not to go further back into the past, we may \nsay, that the period extending from the year 1300 to the year \n1550, was of the first importance to invention, to maritime enter- \nprise, and to the achievement of civil and religious freedom. \nThe leading events of this period, were the introduction into \ngeneral use of the Mariner\'s Compass, the invention of gun- \npowder and guns and of the art of Printing, the Discovery of \nAmerica, and the Reformation. \n\nThe reports which came from the New World, at the close of \nthe 15th century, stimulated to the last degree the spirit of adven- \nture. The Spaniards were transported with glowing hopes, \nkindled by the adventures of De Soto, and the reports made by \nSir Walter Raleigh to his countrymen in England, aroused \namongst them a corresponding enthusiasm. Withrespect to an ex- \npedition led by De Soto, the distinguished companion of Pizzaro, \nit is said, that "as soon as the news of its design was \npublished in Spain the wildest hopes were indulged. Adven- \nturers assembled as volunteers, many of them people of good \nestates and noble birth. Houses and vineyards, land.- for tillage. \nand rows of olive trees, were sold.as in the times of the Crusades, \n\n\n\nto obtain the means of military equipment. The port whence \nthe expedition was to set sail was crowded with people anxious \nto join in the enterprise." * \n\nThose who in England had taken part in the expedition under \nRaleigh, were captivated by the scenes which they visited. Sail- \ning leisurely along the shores of North Carolina, they imagined \nthemselves within the precincts of another Eden. "The sea was \ntranquil ; the skies were clear ; no storms were gathering ; the \nair was agitated by none but the gentlest breezes, and all were \nin raptures with the beauty of the ocean seen in the magnificence \nof repose. Islands gemmed its surface, and it extended in the \nclearest transparency from cape to cape. The vegetation of \nthat southern latitude struck the beholders with admiration. \nThe trees were without their equals in the world. The luxuriant \nvines as they clambered up the loftiest cedars formed graceful \nfestoons. Grapes were so plenty on every little shrub, that the \nwaves of the ocean, as it lazily rolled in upon the shore with the \nquiet winds of summer, dashed its spray upon the clusters, and \nnatural arbors formed an impervious shade which not a ray of \nthe suns of duly could penetrate. As they drew near to land, \nthe fragrance was as if they had been in the midst of a most \ndelicate garden abounding with all kinds of odoriferous \nflowers." | \n\nWith such impressions, and such reports, widely diffused, it is \nnot wonderful that emigration from the shores of Europe was \nprompt and rapid. Nor need it hardly be said that the settle- \nment of the New World by Europeans was attended by the \ncharacteristics of European civilization. At this period that \ncivilization had assumed a definite outline. The emigration of \nGoth, Vandal, Hun, Frank and Burgundian, had ceased, and the \nintruders had become incorporated with the nations of Western \nEurope which they had invaded. \n\nThe feudal system had begun to yield to the claims of the age \nwinch called loudly for a recognition of the rights of the common \npeople. The mutual efforts of the state and church to uphold \neach other\'s authority, were at this period met with a wider and \nsterner resistance than had marked the history of Europe for a \nthousand years. \n\nThis, too, was the era of the Reformation. The church in \n(Treat Britain was revolutionized. Henry VIII. assumed supreme \nauthority in both church and state. Interrupted in the reign of \n\n\n\n\xe2\x80\xa2 Bancroft\'s J I \xc2\xa3 \xe2\x80\x94 t \n\ni I \xe2\x96\xa0 1 1 -i j i \n\n\n\nMary, it was resumed in that of Elizabeth The development of \nevents in the direction of civil freedom now became rapid, con- \nstituted in the language of the time a New Departure. But the \nstruggle was great and protracted. Elizabeth and lier successor, \ntlanies I., were bent upon uniformity in worship among all \ntheir subjects. Non-conformists incurred the royal displeasure. \nAmong these noble assertors and defenders of human rights \nwere the "Pilgrim Fathers." Driven by persecution in the reign \nof James I., they sought a transient refuge in Holland, and \nafterwards resuming the march of their exile, turned their faces \ntowards the New World, and on the 22nd December, 1620, two \nhundred and sixty-five years ago, planted their feet upon \nPlymouth Rock. Amid ice and snow they knelt upon the shore, \nand with prayers and tears, consecrated the land before them to \nthe enjoyment of civil and religious freedom. \n\nWhile this scene was being enacted upon the coast of New \nEngland, another, of scarcely less importance, was opening upon \nthe banks of James River, in the Colony of Virginia. In the \nyear 1619 the first Colonial Assembly that ever met upon this \ncontinent was convened at Jamestown. It was composed of a \nGovernor, a newly appointed Council, and two Representatives of \nthe eleven burroughs of the colony. Two years after the conven- \ntion of this assembly, a memorable ordinance of the London \nCompany gave to Virginia a written, constitution, by which a \nsystem of representative government and trial by jury was estab- \nlished as an acknowledged right. In this memorable document, \nas in that drawn up in the cabin of the Mayflower, Ave discover \nthe germs of the Constitution of the United States. \n\nFrom the year 1625 to 1674, the colonies under their re- \nspective governments, whether Provincial, as was the form under \nwhich were included the colonies of New Hampshire, New York, \nVirginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, or Pro- \nprietary, as was that of Maryland, Pennsylvania and Delaware, \nor Charter, the government of Massachusetts, Rhode Island and \nConnecticut, enjoyed greater liberty and tranquility than their \ncountrymen in England. \n\nDuring this period which extended from the accession of \nCharles 1., to near the close of the reign of Charles II., Ena-land \nwas in a state of continual agitation. The bigoted views of \nJames I., and of his son were not congenial to the spirit of the \nBritish Constitution and the rising spirit of the British nation. \nWhen therefore Charles attempted a positive invasion of the \n\n\n\nrights of his subjects,hemet with unexpected and determined resist- \nance. The intelligence and power of the Third Estate, as the \npeople were sometimes called, were far greater then than at any \nprevious period of English history. \n\nThe House of Commons, once so impotent and unpopular, had \nbecome the right arm of the state. The power to originate \nmoney hills to meet the expenses of the government, was lodged \nexclusively with this branch of Parliament. The exercise of \narbitrary power attempted by the King was stoutly resisted by \nthese representatives of the people. The King would accept \nnothing the Commons were willing; to grant. Thus we are in- \ntroduced to perhaps the most interesting period in British annals; \nto one of the epochs of modern history. \n\nPeaceful measures having failed, the King grasped the sword. \nThis act was promptly and resolutely answered by the Commons \nand people. In the ensuing conflict the power of the King, once \ndeemed invulnerable, was broken. The scaffold and block, so \noften reddened with blood spilt in the cause of liberty, now blushed \nwith the blood of a martyr to tyranny. \n\nThe reign of Charles I. was followed by the energetic and \ngenerally benignant protectorate of Cromwell, and this was suc- \nceeded by the restoration of the Stewarts in the person of \nCharles II. \n\nWe are now brought to a period of special significance to our- \nselves. It was during the reign of Charles II. that the British \nParliament took the tirst step which on the part of the mother \ncountry injuriously affected the American colonies. \n\nAt this period an act of Parliament was passed prefaced by the \nfollowing preamble : " Whereas, it is just and necessary that a \nrevenue be raised in America for defraying the expenses of de- \nfending, protecting and securing the same." The act then pro- \nceeds to lay a duty on clayed-sugar, indigo, coffee, silk, molasses, \ncalicoes, &c, being the produce of a colony, not under the \ndominion <>t his Majesty. To this exercise of power on the part \nof Parliament the colonists submitted, but not without complaint \nand remonstrance. The subject of taxing the American colonies \nhad indeed been agitated before this time. But this was the first \nactual attempt to enforce that policy. \n\nReferring to this action on the part of Parliament and the colo- \nnies, Charles Fox, the celebrated British orator and statesman, says: \n"There is something curious in discovering that even at this \nearly period (1685) a question relative to North American liberty, \n\n\n\n6 \n\n\n\nand even to North American taxation, was considered as the test of \nprinciples friendly or adverse to arbitrary power at home. But \nthe truth is, that among the several controversies which have \narisen, there is no other where the natural rights of man on the \none hand and the authority of artificial institutions on the other, \nas applied respectively by the Whigs and Tories to the English \nconstitution, are so fairly put in issue, nor by which the line of \nseparation between the two parties, is so strongly and distinctly \nmarked." \n\nCharles II. was succeeded by his brother James II. Blind \nor indifferent to the intelligence and spirit of the English people, \nJames by still more arbitrary acts increased their exasperation, \n"lie suspended the exercise of the Protestant religion, acknowl- \nedged the supremacy of the Pope, and allowed the Jesuits again \nto establish themselves in the kingdom." \n\nThe thoughts of his subjects at this moment were similar to \nthose expressed by Archibald Rowan at his celebrated trial in \nIreland in 179-1. "I did imagine," said he on that stirring occa- \nsion, "that the British Constitution was a representative legisla- \nture ; that the people were represented by the House of Com- \nmons ; that the Lords - represented the territory, the property ; \nand that the King represented the state ; the power of the whole \nplaced in his hands for the benefit of the whole. As a person, \nas a man, I know nothing of the King. I can know nothing of \nhim except as wielding the force of the nation, and if ever that \nforce should be misapplied or abused, it then remains for the \npeople to decide in what hands it ought to be placed." \n\nSuch were the views of the English people more than a \ncentury before. And these views were urged with such vigor \nthat James II. was forced to abdicate his throne. This abdica- \ntion and the accession of William of Orange, with Mary, elder \ndaughter and heiress of James, accomplished the Revolution of \n1688. As an expression of the mind of the people and of the \nnew rulers whom they had chosen, a Bill of Bights was adopted, \ncontaining the following provisions : \n\n1. The pretended power of suspending laws, or the execution \nof laws by regal authority without the consent of Parliament, is \nillegal. \n\n2. That the pretended power of dispensing with laws, or the \nexecution of laws by regal authority as it hath been assumed \nand exercised of late, is illegal. \n\n3. That the commission for erecting the late Court of Com- \n\n\n\nmissioners for ecclesiastical causes, and all other commissions and \ncourts of like nature, are illegal and pernicious. \n\n4. That levying money for or to the use of the Crown by \npretense of prerogative, without grant of Parliament, for longer \ntime, or in all other manner than the same is and shall be \ngranted, is illegal. \n\n5. That it is the right of the subject to petition the King, \nand that all commitments and prosecutions for such petitioning \nare illegal. \n\n6. That the raising or keeping a standing army within the \nkingdom in time of peace, unless it be with the consent of Par- \nliament, is against law. \n\n7. That the subjects, who are Protestants, may have arms \nfor their defense, suitable to their conditions, and as allowed by \nlaw. \n\n8. That elections of members of Parliament ought to be free. \n\n9. That the freedom of speech and debates or proceedings in \nParliament ought not to be impeached in any court or place out \nof Parliament. \n\n10. That excessive bail ought not to be required ; nor exces- \nsive fines imposed ; nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. \n\n11. That Jurors ought to be duly impannelled and returned ; \nand that Jurors who pass upon persons in trials, for high treason, \nought to be freeholders. \n\n12. That all grants and promises of fines and forfeitures of \nparticular persons before conviction, are illegal and void. \n\n13. And that for the redress of all grievances, and for the \namending, strengthening and preserving of laws, Parliament \nought to be frequently held. \n\nSmm was the Bill of Eights of the Revolution of 1688. You \nwill readily perceive its importance. It gave the unwritten \nlaws of England a definite form and character. The rights of \nKing, Parliament, and people, were brought out from the dim \nobscurity and uncertainty of the common law, which was com- \nprised of customs, prescriptions, reports, statutes and traditions. \n\nWhile, however, the Revolution of 1688 achieved much, it \nfell short of securing to British subjects the full measure of \nnational freedom. "The Great Charter of King John and the \nBill of Rights," says Dr. Parley, "were wise and strenuous \nefforts to obtain security against certain abuses of regal power \nby which the subject had been formerly aggrieved ; but these \n\n\n\nwere, either of them, much too partial modifications of the con- \nstitution to give it a new original/\' \n\nThe progress of liberty was not to stop with this triumph. \nIts advance, however, was promoted by means at that time little \nanticipated. While far away over the Atlantic the Colonies \nwatched with interest the revolutionary movements in England, \nand were animated with an intelligent love of the more liberal \nfeatures of the British Constitution, which the seventeenth and \neighteenth centuries had developed ; they found themselves called \nupon to defend the political principles thus established, and to \ngive them a wider application than either the King, or Parlia- \nment, or the British people had suspected. \n\nIn the year 1765 an attempt was made by the home govern- \nment, \'\'practically to exert over the colonies the power of in- \nternal legislation and taxation." \n\nThis assumption of legislative power was promptly resisted. \nThe grounds of resistance were the same in all the colonies. \nNotwithstanding the differences in their original and actual \npolitical organization, "whether charter, provincial, or pro- \nprietary," the Colonies, at the time of the American Revolution, \nenjoj\'ed, in most respects, the same general rights and privileges. \nIn all of them there existed a governor, a council and a repre- \nsentative assembly, composed of delegates chosen by the people, \nby whom the legislative and executive functions were exercised \naccording to the particular organization of the Colony. In all \nof them express provision was made that all subjects and their \nchildren, inhabiting in the Colonies, should be deemed natural \nborn subjects, and should enjoy all the privileges and immunities \nconferred by the British Constitution upon the most favored citizens \nof the mother country. In all the Colonies, the common law of \nEngland, so far as it was applicable to their situation, was made \nthe basis of their jurisprudence, and that law was asserted at all \ntimes by them to be their birth-right and inheritance. Again, \n"it was insisted that the sole claim of England to the American \nContinent being founded in the mere title of discovery, the \nColonies brought with them, all the laws of the parent country \nwhich were applicable to their situation." \n\nThat the Colonies were bound to resist the violation of the \nlaws of the realm, and the spirit of the Great Charter and the \nBill of Rights, is a truth which lies embedded in the very \nstructure of government. "If public expediency be the founda- \ntion, it is also the measure of civil obedience ; the obligation of \n\n\n\nsubjects and sovereigns is reciprocal, and the duty of allegiance, \nwhether it be founded in utility or compact, is neither unlimited \nnor unconditional. Peace may be purchased too dearly. \nPatience becomes pusillanimity when it serves to increase the \nweight of our burden, or to bind it the faster. The submission \nwhich surrenders the liberty of a nation, and entails slavery \nUpon future generations, is enjoined by no law of national mo- \nrality. Each one should compare the peril and expense of the \nenterprise with the effects it is expected to produce and to make \nchoice of the alternative by which not his own present relief or \nprofit, but the whole and permanent interest of the state, is \nlikely to be promoted." * \n\nAVe will now examine those acts of the King and Parliament \nwhich the Colonists considered infractions of their Constitutional \nrights, and which called forth their prompt and determined \nopposition. \n\nIn the year 1765 Parliament imposed a duty on stamps. That \nthis was a serious and questionable step, may be inferred from \nwords spoken by the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole. \nSeveral years before, when a similar scheme for taxing the \ncolonies was proposed, he said : " I will leave that for some one \nof my successors who may have more courage than I have, and \nbe less a friend to commerce than I am." \n\nSoon after the passage of the " Stamp Act " a colonial Con- \ngress of twenty-eight members met at New York. This assem- \nbly remonstrated against the act of Parliament and made a declar- \nation of the rights of the colonies, declaring that taxation and \nrepresentation were inseparable, and that Parliament had no right \nto take their money without their consent. \n\nThat the stand taken by this assembly was correct is clear from \nthe language of Dr. Paiey, at that day one of the leading writers \nin England, on the British Constitution. \n\n" The Constitution," he says, " provides that every district of \nthe Empire shall enjoy the privilege of choosing representatives \ninformed of the interests and circumstances and desires of their \nconstituents, and entitled by their situation to communicate that \ninformation to the Xational Council. The meanest subject has \nsome one whom he can call upon to bring forward his complaints \nand requests to the public attention." And on this subject of \ntaxation he says : " Every law which by the remotest construc- \ntion may be deemed to levy money upon the property of the sub- \n\n* Pa ley. \n\n\n\n10 \n\nject, must originate, that is, must first he proposed and assented \nto in the House of Commons. By this regulation the levying of \ntaxes is almost exclusively reserved to the popular part of the \nConstitution, and the House of Commons, it is presumed, \nwill not tax themselves nor their fellow suhjects, without being \nfirst convinced of the necessity of the aids which they grant." \n\nWe thus perceive that the British Constitution guaranteed the \nfull representation of all British subjects. \n\nIn keeping with these sentiments of Dr. Paley, was the opinion \nof Lord Chatham pronounced in Parliament just after the news \nof colonial resistance reached England: \n\n" You have no right to tax America. I rejoice that America \nhas resisted. Three millions of our fellow subjects so lost to \nevery sense of virtue, as tamely to give up their liberties, would \nbe fit instruments to make slaves of the rest." \n\nThe obnoxious " Stamp Act " was at length repealed. But \nstrange to say, this was followed by other acts still more obnoxious. \nOne imposed a duty upon painters 1 colors, glass, paper and tea. \nAnother established at Boston a Board of Commissioners to man- \nage the revenue arising from the duties. Another to compel the \ncolonists to provide for British troops, and to support them at \ntheir own expense. \n\nThese several acts awakened among the colonists increased ex- \ncitement and resistance. Yet all this, instead of producing \nmoderation in parliamentary proceedings, had a contrary effect. \n" A bill was speedily passed by which the port of Boston was \nprecluded the privilege of landing and discharging, or of lading \nand shipping wares and merchandise." \n\nAnother bill was passed essentially altering the charter of the \nprovince of Massachusetts, making the appointment of the \nCouncil, justices, judges, sheriffs, or other officers, dependent on \nthe Crown, or its immediate agent. \n\nAnother act directed the Governor to send to another colony, \nor to Great Britain, for trial, any person indicted for murder or \nany other capital offence. \n\nThe news of these proceedings went through the land as on \nthe wings of the wind. \n\nThe time for action had now arrived. The people resolved to \nassemble for consultation. Eleven of the colonies appointed \ndeputies for this purpose. On the -fth of September, 1774, these \ndeputies met at Philadelphia, and there organized under the name \nof"" The Continental Congress." \n\n\n\n11 \n\n\n\nThe proceedings of this celebrated assembly were attended \nwith the most mature deliberation. The responsibility they as- \nsumed was of the gravest character. \n\nTo meet the legislation of Parliament, " a non-importation and \nnon-consumption agreement " was made. An address was issued \nto the inhabitants of British America, and another to the people \nof Great Britain. They also drew up and unanimously adopted \na Declaration of Bights substantially as follows : \n\n1. That we are entitled to life, liberty and property, and have \nnever ceded to any sovereign power whatever a right to dispose \nof either without our consent. \n\n2. That our ancestors who first settled these colonies were at \nthe time of their emigration from the mother country entitled to \nall the rights, liberties and immunities of free and natural born \nsubjects within the realm of England. \n\n3. That by such emigration they by no means forfeited, sur- \nrendered or lost any of their rights ; but they were, and their \ndescendants now are, entitled to the exercise and enjoyment of \nall such of them as their local and other circumstances enable \nthem to exercise and enjoy. \n\n4. That the foundation of English liberty and of all free gov- \nernment is a right in the people to participate in their Legislative \nCouncil. And as the English colonists are not represented, and \nfrom their local and other circumstances, cannot properly be rep- \nresented in the British Parliament, they are entitled to a free and \nexclusive power of legislation in their several provincial Legisla- \ntures, where the right of representation can alone be preserved in all \ncases of taxation and internal polity, subject only to the negative of \ntheir Sovereign in such manner as has heretofore been used and \naccustomed. But from the necessity of the case and a regard to \nthe mutual interests of both countries, we cheerfully consent to \nthe operation of such acts of the British Parliament as are, in \ngood faith, restrained to the regulation of our external commerce, \nfor the purpose of securing the commercial advantages of the \nwhole Empire to the mother country, and the commercial benefit \nof its respective members ; excluding every idea of taxation, in- \nternal or external, for raising a revenue on the subjects in America \nwithout their consent. \n\n5. That the respective colonies are entitled to the common \nlaw of England, and especially to the great and inestimable privi- \nlege of being tried by the peers of the vicinage, according to the \ncourse of that law. \n\n\n\n12 \n\n\n\n6. That they are entitled to the benefit of such of the Eng- \nlish statutes us existed at the time of their colonization, and which \nthey have by experience respectively found to be applicable to \ntheir several local and other circumstances. \n\n7. That these his Majesty\'s colonies are likewise entitled to \nall the immunities and privileges granted and confirmed to them \nby royal charters, or secured to them by their several codes of \nprovincial law. \n\n8. That they have a right peaceably to assemble, consider of \ntheir grievances and petition the King ; and that all prosecutions, \nprohibitory proclamations and commitments for the same, are \nillegal. \n\n9. That the keeping a standing army in these colonies in times \nof peace without the consent of the Legislature of the Colony in \nwhich such an army is .kept, is against law. \n\n10. It is indispensibly necessary to good government, and \nrendered essential by the English Constitution, that the constitu- \nent branches of the Legislature be independent of each other ; \nthat therefore the exercise of legislative powers in several col- \nonies by a council appointed during the pleasure of the Crown, is \nunconstitutional, dangerous, and destructive to the freedom of \nAmerican Legislation. \n\nSuch was the Declaration of Rights made bv the Coni:rc>s \nof 1774. \n\nThe addresses which were issued to the people of Great \nBritain, and to the inhabitants of the Province of Quebec were \nmarked with the same moderation and decision. \n\nIn the address to the people of Great Britain, after setting \nforth the distinctions in legislation made by Parliament between \nthe colonies and the mother country, they add : \n\n"Reason looks with indignation upon such distinctions, and \nfreemen can never perceive their propriety. And yet however \nchimerical and unjust such discriminations are, the Parliament \nassert that they have a right to bind us in all cases without ex- \nception, whether we consent or not ; that they may take and \nuse our property when and in what manner they please; that we \nare pensioners on their bounty for all that we possess, and can \nhold it no longer than they vouchsafe to permit. Such declara- \ntions we consider heresies in English politics, and which can no \nmore operate to deprive us of our property, than the interdicts \nof the Popes can divest Kings of sceptres which the laws of the \nlaud and the voice of the people have placed in their hands/\' \n\n\n\n13 \n\n\n\nIn the address to the people of Quebec, after recounting the \nrights guaranteed by the British Constitution, they say: "these \nare the rights without which a people cannot be free and happy, \nand under the protecting and encouraging influence of which \nthese Colonies have hitherto so amazingly flourished and increased. \nThese are the rights which the Ministry are. now striving by \nforce of arms to ravish from us, and which we are, with one \nmind, resolved never to resign but with our lives." \n\nLord Chatham said,January 20th, 1775, in Parliament : " Had \nthe earl) r situation of the people of Boston been attended to, \nthings would not have come to this, but the infant complaints of \nBoston were literally treated like the capricious squalls of a \nchild, who, it was said, did not know whether it was aggrieved \nor not. Put full well I knew, at that time, that this child, if \nnot redressed, would soon assume the courage and voice of a \nman Full well I knew, that the sons of ancestors, born under \nthe same free constitution, and once breathing the same liberal \nair as Englishmen, ancestors who even quitted this land of \nliberty, the moment it became a land of oppression, and, in \nresistance to bigoted councils and oppressive measures, tore \nthemselves from their dearest connections ; I say, full well I \nknew, that the offspring of such ancestors would resist upon the \nsame principles and on the same occasions. * * * * \n\n" I have crawled, m}\' Lords, to this house to-day to tell you so. \n1 think it my duty to give the whole of my experience and \ncouncil to my country at all times, but more particularly when \nshe is so much in need of it ; and having thus entered upon the \nthreshold of this business, I will knock at your gates for justice, \nand never stop, except infirmities should nail me to my bed, until \nI have at least tried everything in my power to heal those \nunhappy divisions. \n\n" There is no time to be lost \xe2\x80\x94 every hour is big with danger \xe2\x80\x94 \nperhaps, whilst I am now speaking, the decisive blow is struck, \nwhich may involve millions in the consequence; and, believe me, \nthe very first drop of blood that is spilled will not be from a \nwound easily skimmed over, it will be irritabile vulnus ; a wound \nof that rancorous and festering kind, that, in all probability, \nwill mortify the whole body. \n\n" Who then, in the name of heaven, could advise this measure? \nOr who can continue to give this strange and unconstitutional \nadvice? If his Majesty continues to hear such counsellors, he \nwill not only be badly advised, but undone. lie may wear his \n\n\n\n11 \n\n\n\n,;,,,"! \' i * r" not ],e w \'"\'"\' wearin g : \'\xe2\x96\xa0" , \' , \xc2\xab<i of \ni. "i s .tVr\'ff\'r A " uT, r !, -, i \' , win iose its r " stre \xc2\xbb<\xc2\xab \xc2\xbbo \n\nm!!|,\'s,v \xe2\x80\xa2 " e <Mge>><>e winch should irradiate the brow of \n\n\\<n^!TJZ^ lip ^ at , !\' e P a P ere transmitted us from \na-menca, when 3 ou consider their decency, firmness and wisdom \n\nv:.;;;;:!r t :::r? f eir -? e and wisfi to s str^s: \n\n\xc2\xabb e \' tt u "i I T a " d a \xe2\x84\xa2 w \' that \' "\' a " \xe2\x84\xa2y readi "S \xc2\xab\'"! \nooseivation, and it has been my favorite study\xe2\x80\x94 1 have read \n\nor me vroild, that for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity \n-\xc2\xab1 wisdom of conclusion, under such a complication of dXent \ncircumstances no nation or body of men can stand in preference \nto the general Congress at Philadelphia " pieteience \n\nbese addresses respectful and well founded as they were \nProduced only an exasperating effect upon the Ministry.\'\' Otho,- \n\nwl , 1,\'d" h\'dv , OWed ?\xc2\xb0\' l68S ob J<*\xc2\xabonable than t , , . \nvviut.ii naci aJieadv been passed \n\nThe issue toward which all previous discussions and acts h-,,1 \nended was now reached. In the legislature of Virginia Pat ck \nHenry gave expression to the general feeline \xe2\x80\xa2 \xc2\xab A S 1 \xe2\x99\xa6 \nnnnsand the God of battles," he excTatj,\' \xc2\xab is ^tha^ Lft \n\n\'Peace\' P^,? M\xe2\x84\xa2* 9 ^ mttet - 4ntleluen "\'^ \n1 eace reace . but there is no peace. The war is ar-r\'nallv \n\ne > th, clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren arc already in \n\nsweet, as to be purchased at the \'price of ,l,t Z T\xe2\x84\xa2 S " \nForbid ff, Almighty God ! I LlTno^Zr^Zy \n\nOn Mav tn\xc2\xb0H m XT% me Hbert * \xc2\xb0 r S ive me death !" \nthe nil \' f "\' V 1 \'\xe2\x96\xa0 C \xc2\xb0 T gl \' eSS ! net a \xc2\xab ain at Philadelphia. On \n\n-fon was celebrated at Ci ^^^""T^tS \n\nffc\xc2\xa3SS\xc2\xa3|^^ \n\n\n\n15 \n\n\n\nhonor to be present on the occasion and to participate in a \nbanquet given in Memorial Hall by the city of Cambridge in \ncommemoration of that interesting event. \n\nThe battles of Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, had \nalready been fought. The prediction of Patrick Henry had been \nfulfilled. \n\nOn June 7th, 1776, Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, made a \nmotion in Congress in favor of declaring the Colonies free and \nindependent. In support of this motion John Adams spoke \nwith even more than his wonted vehemence : \n\n" The war," said he, " must go on. We must tight it through. \nAnd if the war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration \nof Independence ? Every Colony, indeed, has expressed its \nwillingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the Declar- \nation will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of \na long and bloody war for restoration of privileges, for redress \nof grievances, for chartered immunities, held under a British \nKing, set before them the glorious object of entire Independence \nand it will breathe into them anew the breath of life. \n\n" Read this Declaration at the head of the army ; every sword \nwill he drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered to \nmaintain it or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from \nthe pulpit ; religion will approve it, and the love of religions \nliberty will cling round it, resolved to stand with it or fall with \nit. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there ; let them hear \nit who heard the first roar of the enemy\'s cannon ; let them see \nit who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of \nBunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Concord, and \nthe very walls will cry out in its support. \n\n\'Sir, 1 know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see \nclearly, through this day\'s business. You and I, indeed, may rue \nit. We may not live to the time when this Declaration shall be \nmade good. We may die ; die Colonists ; die slaves ; die, it may \nbe, igiioininiously and on the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If \nit be the pleasure of heaven that my country shall require the \npoor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the \nappointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But \nwhatever be our fate, be assured, be assured, that this Declaration \nwill stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood, but it \nwill stand and richly compensate for both. Through the thick \ngloom of the present 1 see the brightness of the future as the \nsun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. \n\n\n\n16 \n\n\n\nWhen wo are in our graves our children will honor it. They \nwill celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires \nand illuminations. \n\n"Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment \napproves this measure and my whole heart is in it. All that I \nhave, and all that I am, I am now ready here to stake upon it. \nAnd I leave off as I began, that live or die, survive or perish, I \nam for the Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and by the \ngrace of God, it shall be my dying sentiment: Independence \nnow and Independence forever." \n\nOn the 4th of July, 1776, the thirteen Colonies were declared \nFree and Independent. The title assumed was, The United States \nof America. \n\nThe Declaration of Independence contained a concise recital \nof Colonial grievances. On its adoption the bell of the Old \nState House of Philadelphia rang out the news to the thousands \nassembled in Independence Square, and to the homes of the \nColonists in the neighborhood of the city. The news was \nreceived everywhere with the highest exultation. The ennobling \nprospect of ;i separate national existence animated the people \nwith new courage and resolution to repel the invader. \n\nThe war of the Revolution followed. With it came suffering \nand gloom. Truthfully did the poet Campbell sing the rise of \nAmerican liberty : \n\n" Dark was the hour by stern oppression driven, \nWhen trans-Atlantic Liberty arose ; \n\nNot in the sunshine and the smile of heaven, \nBut wrapped in whirlwinds and begirt with woes !" \n\nThe climax of suffering on the part of the army seemed to be \nreached when on the 17th December, 1777, they made their \ndreary encampment at Valley Forge. The winter had set in \nwith unusual severity. Hungry and cold were the poor fellows \nwho had so long been keeping the field. Provisions were scant, \nclothing worn out, and so badly off were they for shoes, that the \nfootsteps of many might be tracked in blood. It has been \neloquently said that "there, in the midst of frost and snow, \ndisease and destitution, Liberty erected her altar. In all the \nworld\'s history we have no record of purer devotion, holier \nsincerity, or more heroic self sacrifice, than was exhibited in this \ncamp of Washington. If there is a spot on the face of our \nbroad land whereon patriotism should delight to pile its highest \nand most venerated monument, it should be in the bosom of that \n\n\n\n17 \n\n\n\nlittle vale on the banks of the Schuylkill, amid the \' templed \nhills,\' consecrated by the presence and suffering of those who \nachieved our Independence." \n\n"The land is holy where they fought, \n\nAnd holv where they fell ; \nFor by their blood that land was bought, \n\nThe land they loved so well. \nThen glory to that valiant band \nThe honored saviors of the land ! \n\n< ), few and weak their numbers were \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nA handful of brave men ; \nBut to their God they gave their prayer, \n\nAnd rushed to battle then. \nThe God of battles heard their cry, \nAnd sent to them the victory. \n\n\n\nThey left the plowshare in the mould, \n\nTheir flocks and herds without a fold, \n\nThe sickle in the unshorn grain, \n\nThe corn, half garnered, on the plain, \n\nAnd mustered in their simple dress \n\nFor wrongs to seek a stern redress, \n\nTo right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, \n\nTo perish or o\'ercome their foe. \n\n\n\nAnd where are ye, oh, fearless men? \n\nAnd where are ye to-day ? \nI call :\xe2\x80\x94 the hills reply again, \n\nThat ye have passed away ; \nThat on old Bunker\'s lonely height, \n\nIn Trenton and on Monmouth ground, \nThe grass grows green, the harvest light. \n\nAbove each soldier\'s mound. \n\nThe bugle\'s mild and warlike blast \n\nShall muster them no more ; \nAn army now might thunder past, \n\nAnd they heed not its roar. \nThe starry flag \'neath which they fought \n\nIn many a bloody day, \nFrom their old graves shall rouse them not. \n\nFor they have passed away. " \n\nThe Government during the Revolution was composed of one \ndelegate from each Colony, appointed from time to time, who \nconducted the national affairs till near the close of the war. \nWhile the Colonies were holding a belligerent attitude toward the \nmother country, a common regard for public safety held them \nfirmly together. But the Continent;!] Congress plainly saw that \n\n\n\n18 \n\n\n\nwhen the external pressure should he removed, the Colonies \nwould fall apart into separate and independent States. The \nconsequences of such an event were as clearly foreseen and as \nfully understood. In order to provide against such dangers, they \nprepared and passed the memorable Articles of Confederation. \nThis step was carefully taken and was in the right direction. But \nso keenly jealous was each State of its own rights, and so fearful \nof a consolidated government, that these Articles, though passed \nby Congress in November, 1777, were not finally adopted until \nMarch, 1781. Whatever hopes may have been awakened by the \nadoption of these Articles, and however great the efforts to do \nthat which would prove most for the public good, it was soon \ndiscovered that the Confederation, even under the Articles as \nfinally adopted, was utterly powerless. "By this political \ncompact," snid one, " the Continental Congress have exclusive \npower for the following purposes without being able to execute \none of them : They may make and conclude treaties, but can \nonly recommend the observance of them ; they may appoint \nAmbassadors, but they cannot defray even the expenses of their \ntables ; they may borrow money, on their own names on \nthe faith of the Union, but they cannot pay a dollar ; \nthey may coin money, but they may not import an ounce of \nbullion ; they may make war, and determine what number of \ntroops is necessary, but they cannot raise a single soldier ; in \nshort, they may declare everything, but they can do nothing." \n" It became evident, therefore, that the Confederation, being \nwithout resources, and without powers, must soon expire of its \nown debility. It had not only lost all vigor but it had ceased \neven to be respected. It had approached the last stages of its \ndecline and the only question which remained was, whether it \nshould be left to a silent dissolution or an attempt be made to \nform a more efficient Government before the great interests of \nthe Union were buried beneath its ruins." \n\nA serious crisis had now arrived. The war was indeed over. \nPeace had been proclaimed \xe2\x80\x94 liberty and independence had been \nachieved \xe2\x80\x94 but the object for which the Nation\'s treasure and blood \nhad been expended was still exposed to defeat. The public \nmind was greatly agitated by the dangers which pointed toward \neither anarchy or despotism. The voices of those who had never \nfavored the separation of the Colonies from Great Britain, and \nespecially of those who had no faith in popular Government, \nwere heard on everv hand, boasting of their own wisdom, and \n\n\n\n19 \n\n\n\npredicting disastrous results from the policy and patriotism of \ntheir countrymen. \n\n" The signers of the Declaration of Independence themselves \nwere the persons who had fallen into the error of believing that \na Confederacy of independent States would serve as a substitute \nfor the repudiated Government of Great Britain. Experience had \ndemonstrated their mistake, and the condition of the country \nwas a shriek of terror at its awful magnitude. They did retrace \ntheir steps, not to extinguish the federative feature on which \ntheir Union had been formed. Nothing could be wider from \ntheir intention ; but to restore," as we shall see, " the order of \nthings conformably to the principles of the Declaration of \nIndependence, and as they had been arranged in the first plans \nfor a confederation. To make the people of the Union the \nconstituent body, and the reservation of the rights of the State \nsubordinate to the Constitution, instead of recognizing the \nassumed sovereignty of each separate State as the source of all \nauthority." An exigency had arisen which could no longer be \naverted nor postponed. \n\nAt Mt. Vernon, the residence of Washington, this was well \nunderstood, and there in March, 1785, the first idea of the \nConstitution was started on a proposal to revise the Articles of \nConfederation by an organization of means differing from that of \na compact between the State Legislatures and their own delegates \nin Congress. An incipient step was thus taken toward the \nformation of the present Constitution of the United States. In \nthat year Commissioners were appointed by the Legislatures of \nMaryland and Virginia, to form a compact relative to the \nnavigation of the rivers Potomac and Roanoke, and the \nChesapeake Bay. The Commissioners met accordingly at \nAlexandria, near Mt. Vernon, in Virginia ; but feeling the want \nof adequate powers, they recommended proceedings of a more \nenlarged nature. The Legislature of Virginia, therefore, in \nJanuary, 1786, proposed a convention of Commissioners from all \nthe States for the purpose of taking into consideration the state \nof trade, and the propriety of a uniform system of commercial \nrelations for their permanent harmony and common interest. \nPursuant to this proposal, Commissioners were appointed by five \nStates, who met at Annapolis in September. 1786. They framed \na report to be laid before the Continental Congress, advising the \nlatter to call a convention of Commissioners from all theStates,to \nmeet in Philadelphia in May. 1787, for n //>>>/\xe2\x96\xa0<\' effectual revision \n\n\n\n20 \n\n\n\nof the Articles of Confederation. Congress adopted the recom- \nmendation of the Report, and in February, 1787, passed a resolu- \ntion for assembling a Convention. All. the States except Rhode \nIsland, appointed delegates. The delegates met\' at Philadelphia. \nGeneral Washington, a delegate from Virginia, was called to \npreside. After very protracted deliberation, extending through \nexactly four months, and amid great diversities of opinion, their \nwise, patient, patriotic labors were concluded. The present ( insti- \ntution of the United States was the result. \n\nThe Preamble of the Constitution reads as follows: " We, \nthe people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect \nUnion, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for \nthe common defense, promote the general welfare and secure the \nblessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and \nestablish tlds Constitution for the United States of America." \nOn September 17th, 1787, this Constitution was laid by the Con- \nvention, before Congress, with the recommendation that it be laid \nby Congress before the several States, to be by them considered \nand ratified in conventions of the representatives of the people \nto be called for that purpose.\'\' \n\nThe resolutions of the Convention, passed at the close of its \nlabors, together with a copy of the proposed Constitution, were \ntransmitted by Washington to Congress, accompanied with a \nletter to the President from Washington, which concludes with \nthe following language: "In all our deliberations on this \nsubject we kept steadily in view that which appears to us the \ngreatest interest of every true American \xe2\x80\x94 the consolidation of \nour Union\xe2\x80\x94 in which is involved our prosperity, felicity, safety, \nperhaps our national existence. This important consideration, \nseriously and deeply impressed on our minds, led each State in \nthe Convention to be less rigid on points of inferior magnitude \nthan might have been otherwise expected; and thus the Consti- \ntution which we now present is the result of a spirit of amity, \nand of that mutual deference and concession which the peculiarity \nof our political situation rendered indispensible. \n\n" That it will meet the full and entire approbation of every \nj State, is not, perhaps, to be expected ; but each will doubtless \nconsider, that had her interest been alone considered, the conse- \nquences might have been particularly disagreeable or injurious to \nothers. That it is liable to as few exceptions as could reasonably \nhave been expected, we hope and believe : that it may promote \n\n\n\n21 \n\n\n\nthe lasting welfare of that country so dear to us all, aud secure \nher freedom and happiness, is our most ardent wish. \n\nWith great respect we have the honor to be, sir, your Excel- \nlency\'s most obedient, humble servants. \nBy unanimous order of the Convention. \n\nGeorge Washington, \n\nPresident.*\' \nTo His Excellency, \n\nthe President of Congress. \n\nThe Continental Congress promptly carried out the recommen- \ndation of the Convention. In compliance with the action of \nCongress, Conventions were called in all the States except Rhode \nIsland, and after many warm discussions, all the States with the \nexception of Rhode Island and North Carolina ratified the Con- \nstitution. Thus from the convulsions of the Revolutionary period, \nand from the not less serious apprehensions of civil discord \nunder the Articles of Confederation, emerged the Constitution \nwhose history and associations we are now considering. \n\nThe assent of nine States only being required to put the \nConstitution into operation, measures were taken by Congress \nfor this purpose in September, 1788, at which time the requisite \nratifications had been ascertained. \n\nAccordingly elections were held in the several States, when \nElectors for President and Vice-President were chosen. The \nElectors subsequently assembled and gave their votes. The \nnecessary election of Senators and Representatives having \nbeen made, the first Congress under the Constitution assembled at \nNew York, then the seat of Government, on AVednesday^, March \nthe 4th, 1789. A quorum, however, of both Houses for the \ntransaction of general business did not assemble until the sixth \nof April. At that time the votes of the Electors were counted. \nThe result showed that George AVashington had been unani- \nmously elected President, and John Adams Vice-President of the \nUnited States. On the 30th of April President Washington \nwas sworn into office, and the Government went immediately into \nfull operation. \n\nOnly eleven States were at first represented, but North \nCarolina afterward, in a Convention held in November, ITS*,*, \nadopted the Constitution, and Rhode Island also, by a Convention \nheld in May, 1790. So that all the Thirteen States, by authority \n\n\n\n24 \n\n\n\npreceded him" said Mr. Adams, " as a guard of ornament and of \nglory. At his passage over the Schuylkill bridge, a crown of \nunfading laurel was, unconsciously to himself, dropped by a \nblooming boy, from a thickly laurelled arch, upon his head. At \nTrenton he was welcomed by a band of aged matrons commemo- \nrating his noble defense of them, thirteen years before on that \nspot, at the turning tide of the War of Independence \xe2\x80\x94 while their \nvirgin daughters strewed the path before him with flowers, and, \nchanting a song like that of Miriam, hailed him as their protector, \nwho had been the defender of their mothers. A Committee of \nCongress met him on his approach to the Point, where a richly \nornamented barge of thirteen oars, manned by branch pilots of \nNew York, was in waiting to receive him. In this barge he \nembarked. But the bosom of the waters around her, as she \nswept along, was as populous as had been the shores. The garish \nstreamers floated upon the gale \xe2\x80\x94 songs of enchantment resounded \nfrom boat to boat, intermingled with the clashing of cymbals, \nwith the echoing of horns, with the warbling of the flute, \nand the mellowing tones of the clarionet, weakened, but softened \nas if by distance, by the murmur of the breeze and the measured \ndashing of the waters from the oars, till on reaching New York \n\xe2\x80\x94 but let his own diary given by Chief Justice Marshall, \nhis biographer, disclose the emotions of his soul amid \nthis entrancing scene: \'The display of boats which attended \nand joined on this occasion, some with vocal, and others with \ninstrumental music on board, the decorations of the ships, the \nroar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people, which \nrent the sky, as I passed along the wharves, filled my mind with \nsensations as painful ( contemplating the reverse of this scene \nwhich may be the case after all my labors to do good ) as they \nwere pleasing.\' \n\n"How delightful it is, on this commemoration of Washington\'s \nbirth,"and nearly the hundredth year since those scenes transpired, \nto reflect that all the fairest visions of hope were to be more \n" than realized, and all the apprehensions of wary prudence and \nself-distrusting wisdom more than dissipated and dispelled." \n\nWashington opened his Inaugural Address, which was given in \nNew York, April 30, 1789, with the following words : " Fellow \nCitizens of the Senate and House of Representatives : Among \nthe vicissitudes of life no event could have tilled me with greater \nanxieties than that of which the notification was transmitted by \nyour order, and received on the 4th day of the present month. \n\n\n\n25 \n\n\n\nOn the one hand I was summoned by my country, whose voice I \ncan never hear but with veneration and love, from a retreat \nwhich I had chosen with the fondest predeliction, and, in my \nflattering hopes, with an immutable decision as the assylum of \nmy declining years ; a retreat which was rendered every day \nmore necessary as well as more dear to me, by the addition of \nhabit to inclination, and of frequent interruptions in nry henlth \nby the gradual waste committed on it by time ; on the other \nhand, the magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice \nof my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest \nand most experienced of her citizens, a distrustful scrutiny into \nhis qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondency one \nwho, inheriting inferior endowments from nature, and unpractised \nin the duties of civil administration, ought to be particularly \nconscious of his own deficiencies. In this conflict of emotions, \nall I dare aver is. that it has been my faithful study to collect \nmy duty from a just appreciation of every circumstance by which \nit might be affected. AH I dare hope is, that if, in executing \nthis task, I have been too much swayed by grateful remembrance \nof former instances, or by an affectionate sensibility to this tran- \nscendent proof of the confidence of my fellow citizens, and have \nthence too little consulted my incapacity, as well as disinclination \nfor the weighty and untried cares before me, my error will be \npalliated by the motives which misled me, and its consequences \nbe judged by my country, with some share of the partiality in \nwhich they originated." \n\nIn the conclusion he says : \n\n" Having thus imparted to you my sentiments, as they have \nbeen awakened by the occasion which brings us together, I shall \ntake my present leave, but not without resorting once more to the \nbenign Parent of the human race, in humble supplication, that \nsince he has been pleased to favor the Americau people with \nopportunities for deliberating in perfect tranquility, and disposi- \ntions for deciding with unparalleled unanimity, on a form of \nGovernment for the security of their Union, and the advance- \nment of their happiness, so his divine blessing may be equally \nconspicuous in the enlarged views, the temperate consultations, \nand the wise measures on which the success of this Government \nmust depend." \n\nDuring the eight years of the Revolutionary War Washington \nreceived no compensation, satisfied if Congress would meet the \nexpenses necessarily incurred by him in the public service. Of \n\n\n\n26 \n\n\n\nthese he kept the most exact account. When he undertook the \nduties of the chief magistracy of the country, he gave a further \nevidence of his unselfishness and exalted patriotism. Towards \nthe conclusion of his speech to the First Congress, April 30th, \n1789, he says : " When I was first honored with a call into the \nservice of my country, then on the eve of an arduous struggle \nfor its liherties, the light in which I contemplated my duty re- \nquired that I should renounce every pecuniary consideration. \nFrom this resolution I have in no instance departed. And \nbeing still under the impression which produced it, I must \ndecline as inapplicable to myself any share in the personal \nemoluments which may be indispensibly included in \na permanent provision for the executive department ; and must \naccordingly pray that the pecuniary estimates for the station in \nwhich I am placed may, during my continuation in it, be limited \nto such actual expenditures as the public good may be thought to \nrequire."" \n\nHaving thus been led by the course of events to the inaugu- \nration of Washington and the complete establishment under the \nConstitution of the Government of the United States, let us turn \nfor a while to the contemplation of Washington himself, anil \nconsider as we proceed, some of the elements of his character. \n\nAnd in doing this I observe that Washington was possessed \nof great tenderness of heart. This trait is revealed in numerous \nincidents related by his biographers, and in not a few of his \nwritings, especially in his appeals to Congress and to the Govern- \nors of the States in behalf of his suffering soldiers. It was \nconspicuous in his addresses to the soldiers themselves. In- \ndeed, so great is the pathos of many portions of his public dis- \ncourses and of his private correspondence, that for my own part \nI can rarely read them without being moved to tears. No won- \nder that he w T as beloved by his officers and army ! No wonder \nthat he was almost idolized by his countrymen ! Through his \n\xe2\x80\xa2sympathies he held the hearts of his fellow men as with hooks of \nsteel. \n\nHe had no love for war as such. The news of the cessation \nof hostilities between the King of Great Britain and the United \nStates (which was received by Washington at his headquarters at \nNewburgh, N. Y., April 18th, 1783), filled his heart with the \nmost pleasing emotions. General orders were immediately issued \nannouncing the fact, and directing the proclamation prohibiting \nhostilities to be read at the head of every regiment and corps of \n\n\n\n27 \n\n\n\nthe army. "After which," adds Washington, " the chaplains, \nwith the several brigades, will render thanks to the Almighty \nGod for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath \n. of man to His own glory and causing the rage of war to cease \namong the nations. \n\n" Although the proclamation above alluded to," he continues, \n" extends only to the prohibition of hostilities, and not to the \nannunciation of a general peace, yet it must afford the most ra- \ntional and sincere satisfaction to every benevolent mind, as it puts \na period to a long and doubtful contest, stops the effusion of hu- \nman blood, opens the prospect to a more splendid scene, and, like \nanother morning star, promises the approach of a brighter day \nthan hath hitherto illuminated the western hemisphere. On such \na happy day, which is the harbinger of peace, a day which com- \npletes the eighth year of the war, it would be ingratitude not to \nrejoice ; it would be insensibility not to participate in the general \nfelicity." \n\nWashington had ambition. But it was not the ambition o \nAlexander, who, hearing Anaxarchus, the philosopher, speak con- \ncerning the multiplicity of worlds, wept to think that he had not \' \nyet become master of one. Nor was it the ambition of Attila, \nthe Hun, whose footsteps were marked with desolation, and who \nproudly called himself "The Scourge of God." Washing- \ntun was ambitious to secure the liberty of his country, to enjoy \nthe favor of heaven, and to find a permanent lodgment in the \nesteem and affections of his race. /And this ambition never left \nhim. Hence the wonderful spectacle, wonderful because unpre- \ncedented, which he presented to an observing and admiring world \nwhen he sheathed his sword and returned his commission to the \nAmerican Congress. He might have imitated the example of \nJulius Caesar and converted his popularitj 7 into an instrument for \nhis own aggrandizement. He might have taken the path which \nNapoleon subsequently pursued, and by his sword carved \nliis way to a throne. That he was urged to pursue this \ncourse is matter of record. But never did virtue shrink with \nmore instinctive abhorrence from vice, than did Washington from \nthe suspicion of being guilty of such a design. With all the \nhonesty of a patriot, with all the promptness of a lover of peace, \nhe resigned the sword which he had reluctantly taken. \n/ Repairing to Annapolis, where the Congress was at that time \nsitting, Washington signified to that venerable body his desire \nto surrender the commission which he had received from them as \n\n\n\nJ \n\n\n\n28 \n\n\n\nCommander-in-Chief of the American army. On the 23d of \n\n\\ December, 1782, the impressive ceremony took place in the \n\npresence of a numerous auditory. The members of Congress \n\nremained seated and covered. The spectators stood uncovered. \n\nWashington, on his entrance, was conducted by the Secretary to \n\na chair, when after a brief pause the President, General Mifflin, \n\ninformed him that " the United States in Congress assembled \n\nwere prepared to receive his communications." A hush ran \n\nthrough the assembly as Washington, with calm dignity, stepped \n\nforward to perform the last, the most sublime act of his \n\nwhole military life. I cannot forbear quoting the introduction \n\nand the close of his remarks : /" Mr. President," said he, " the \n\nfgreat events on which my resignation depended, having taken \n\n/place, I have now the honor of offering my sincere eongratula- \n\n]/ 1 tions to Congress, and of presenting myself before them to sur- \n\nS render into their hands the trust committed to me and to claim \n\nithe indulgence of retiring from the service of my country." And \n\nin conclusion, he adds, "I consider it as an indispensible duty to \n\nclose this hist solemn act of my official life, by commending \n\nthe interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty \n\nGod, and those who have the superintendence of it to his holy \n\nkeeping. \n\n!\'\xe2\x80\xa2 Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the \ngreat theatre of action ; and bidding an affectionate farewell to \nthis august body, under whose orders I have long acted, I here \noffer my commission and take mv leave of all the employments \nof public life." \n\nI need hardly say that this address of Washington was heard \nwith emotions too deep for utterance, and that he withdrew with \nthe benedictions of Congress, of the country, of heaven, and of \nmankind. Upon the surrender of his military commission he \nwithdrew, he hoped forever, from all the scenes of public life. \nHis love for retirement was singularly strong, but at the call of \nhis country to serve as her chief magistrate he again sacrificed, \nas we have seen, his personal predelietions, and repaired once \nmore to the post of duty, ready to serve in a civil, as he had done \nin a military capacity. The period which he devoted to each was \nby a singular coincidence the same. At the close of his Presi- \ndential career, he prepared that wonderful paper, his Farewell \nAddress, as the last token of his solicitude for the welfare of his \ncountry. After pointing out the dangers to which a popular \n< rovernment will ever be exposed and suggesting the best methods \n\n\n\n29 \n\n\n\nfor averting them, after indicating the duties which the different \nportions of the country would owe to one another, and the whole \ncountry to foreign nations, he brings his address to a conclusion \nby a modest and affecting reference to himself. " Though in \nreviewing,\'\' says he, *\' the incidents of my administration, I am \nunconscious of intentional error; I am, nevertheless, too sensible \nof my defects not to think it probable I may have committed \nmany errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the \nAlmighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. \nI shall also carry with me the hope that my country will never \ncease to view them with indulgence; and that after forty-five \nyears of my life dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the \nfruits of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as \nmyself must soon be to the mansions of rest." \n\nHon. Mr. Gladstone, Prime Minister of the British Govern- \nment, pays, in the North American Review, for September, 1878, \ndiscriminating and glowing tribute to the British Constitution, \nand follows it with a tribute, if possible, still more glowing to \nthe Constitution of the United States. \n\nSpeaking of the British Constitution he says: " The Cabinet \nand all the present relations of the Constitutional powers in this \ncountry have grown into their present dimensions, and settled \ninto their present places, not as the fruit of a philosophy, not in \nthe effort to give effect to an abstract principle ; but by the silent \naction of forces, invisible and insensible, the structure has come \nup into the view of all the world. \n\n" As the British Consitution is the most subtle organism which \nhas proceeded from the womb and the long gestation of progres- \nsive history, so the American Constitution is, so far as I can see, \nthe most wonderful work ever struck off at a given time by the \nbrain and purpose of man. It has had a century of trial, under \nthe pressure of exigencies caused by an expansion unexampled \nin point of rapidity and range : and its exemption from formal \nchange, though not entire, has constantly proved the sagacity of \nthe constructors and the stubborn strength of the fabric." \n\nAnd here I cannot but observe that it will ever be a wonder \nhow a man so esteemed and so applauded could have maintained \nthe equanimity for which Washington was always distinguished. \nThe praise which is now universally accorded to him was not \naltogether withheld in his life time. Nor did the expressions \nof warm regard emanate solely from his own countrymen. His \n\n\n\n30 \n\n\n\ncharacter and career had attracted the attention and met the \napprobation of the great and good in other lands. \n\nIn the year 1794, Charles Fox, one of the greatest statesman \nof his own and,perhaps,of any age, in the course of a speech upon \nthe attempt of France to embroil the United States in her diffi- \nculties with Great Britain, pronounced in Parliament an euloginm \nupon Washington. Regardless of the fact that scarce twenty \nyears before, the subject of his eloquence had been pronounced \nwithin those very walls, a rebel, he thus breaks forth : " Illus- \ntrious man ! deriving honor less from the splendor of his situation \nthan from the dignity of his mind; before whom all borrowed \ngreatness sinks into insignificance and all the Princes and poten- \ntates of Europe ( excepting the members of our own \' royal \' \nfamily) become little and contemptible!" "I cannot indeed \nhelp admiring the wisdom and the fortune of this great man ; \nnot that by the phrase fortune I mean in the smallest degree to \nderogate from his merit. But nowithstanding his extraordinary \ntalents and exalted integrity, it must be considered as singularly \nfortunate, that he should have experienced a lot, which so seldom \nfalls to the portion of humanity and have passed through \nsuch a variety of scenes, without stain and without reproach. It \nmust indeed create astonishment, that placed in circumstances so \ncritical and filling for a series of time, a station so conspicuous, \nhis character should never once have been called in question ; \nthat he should in no one instance have been accused either of \nimproper insolence or of mean submission, in his transactions \nwith foreign nations. It has been reserved for him to run that \nrace of glory, without experiencing the smallest interruption to \nthe brilliancy of his career. The breath of censure has not dared \nto impeach the purity of his conduct, nor the eye of envy to raise \nits malignant glance to the elevation of his virtues. Such has \nbeen the transcendant merit and the unparalleled fate of this \nillustrious man !" \n\nWhen the news of the death of Washington reached France, \nhis great contemporary, Napoleon, announced the melancholy \nevent in an appropriate proclamation to the Government, to his \narmy, and to the people, and in token of respect, he ordered \nblack crape to be suspended from all the flags and standards \nin the French service, the Chamber of Deputies was dressed \nin mourning, and other marks of public sorrow were exhibited. \n\n\n\n31 \n\n\n\nThus the representative men of the two leading nations of \nthe earth paid their homage to the character and memory of \nWashington. \n\nNor since that day have the respect and affection of the world \ndiminished. On the contrary, with the lapse of time, the virtues of \nWashington shine forth with a brighter lustre. There is no land \naccessible to enlightened enterprise whither his fame has not \nextended. The monument just completed at the national \nmetropolis, speaks trumpet-tongued in this behalf, for its impos- \ning shaft goes up not merely by the additions made from the \nStates of the Union which he so largely helped to create, but by \nthe marble or granite sent from Switzerland, and Italy, and Greece, \nand from the Islands of the sea. Nor is it an uninteresting fact, \nthat towards the close of the year 1860 the heir apparent to the \nBritish crown, in company with some of England\'s illustrious \nnobles, visited the tomb of Washington. By this act they signi- \nfied their appreciation of the virtues of the dead, and, may I not \nadd, set the seal of their approbation to the cause which he so \nsuccessfully defended. \n\nBut while we speak of Washington in deserved eulogium let \nus not forget that Almighty Being who raised him up, like another \nJoshua, to lead the hosts of our American Israel. Nothing short \nof the divine interposition could have saved our country from the \nperils to which she was exposed. And Joseph, and Moses, and \nJoshua, and David, and Cyrus, were not more certainly ordained \nof heaven to the age and work with which in history they stand \nassociated, than was Washington to the stupendous enterprise to \nwhich he was summoned ; stupendous, I say, for it involved a \ntwo-fold labor of the greatest difficulty and deepest significance, \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe achievement of Independence from a nation possessed of the \ngreatest military and naval power, and the creation and establish- \nment of a Popular Government upon the foundation of a written \nConstitution. And God graciously endowed Washington with just \nthose qualities of body, mind and spirit, which the exigency of the \ntimes demanded. And as He raised him up so He kindly protected \nhim against the savages of the wilderness, against traitors in his \nown camp, and against the ten thousand dangers incident to a \nbitter and protracted war. God was with him in the Cabinet. \nNothing less than wisdom imparted from above could have \nguided him in the multiplied, new, and perplexing questions \nwhich confronted him at every turn during the entire period of \nhis civil as well as military life. The difficulties which were \n\n\n\n32 \n\n\n\nencountered hy him as President may be inferred from the work \naccomplished. \n\n"For during the eight years of a turbulent and tempestuous ad- \nministration, Washington settled upon firm foundations the practical \nexecution of the Constitution of the United States. In the \nmidst of the most appalling obstacles, through the bitterest \ninternal dissentions and the most formidable combi- \nnations of foreign antipathies and cabals, he had subdued \nall opposition to the Constitution itself ; had averted all \ndangers of a European war ; had redeemed American captives \nin Algiers ; had reduced by chastisement and conciliated by kind- \nness, the hostile of the Indian tribes ; had restored the credit of \ntbe nation ; had provided for the total extinguishment of the \npublic debt ; had settled the Union upon the unmovable founda- \ntion of principle, and had drawn around bis head for the admira- \ntion and emulation of after times, a brighter blaze of glory than \nhad ever encircled the brows of hero or statesman, patriot or \nsage." * \n\nWashington was a Christian. He was not ostentatious in his \npiety, but his principles in this regard were fixed. He felt his \ndependence upon God for the accomplishment of the purposes he \nformed, and frequently in the retirement of the forest, as \nat Yalley Forge, was he seen by the passing soldier, in earnest \nprayer, on bended knee, invoking the guidance of Heaven in his \nmilitary plans, the pity of Heaven upon his suffering soldiers, \nand its blessing upon his country then in the throes of revolu- \ntion, struggling to be free. \n\n"The Revolution itself was a work of thirteen years \xe2\x80\x94 and had \nnever been completed until the adoption of the Constitution. The \nDeclaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United \nStates are parts of one consistent whole, founded upon one and \nthe same theory of government." \n\nBy the Declaration national independence was proclaimed ; by \nthe War it was established ; and by the Constitution it was em- \nbodied or consolidated into a distinct nationality. \n\n" The great measures by which the Revolution was commenced, \nconducted, and concluded, were devised and prosecuted by a very \nfew leading minds, animated by one pervading, predominating \nspirit. The object of the Revolution was the transformation of \nthirteen dependent and oppressed English Colonies into one nation \nof thirteen confederated states. It was an undertaking," said \n\n* .1. Q. Adams. \n\n\n\n33 \n\n\n\nMr. Madison, " to do that which had always before been believed \nimpossible. In the progress to its accomplishment, obstacles \nalmost numberless, and difficulties apparently unsurmountable, \nobstructed every step of the way. That on the dissolution and \nre-institntion of the social compact, by men marching over an un- \ntrodden earth to the very fountains of human Government, great \nand dangerous errors should have been committed, is but an ac- \nknowledgement that the builders of the new edifice were fallible \nmen. But at the head of the Convention was George Washing- \nton, the leader of the Armies of the Revolution \xe2\x80\x94 amongst its \nprominent members were Benjamin Franklin and Roger Sherman, \ntwo of the members of that memorable committee who had re- \nported the Declaration of Independence \xe2\x80\x94 and its other members, \nwithout exception, were statesmen who had served in the council \nof the Union throughout the Revolutionary struggle, or warriors \nwho had contended with the enemy upon the field." \n\nThe framers of the Constitution never claimed for it perfection. \nThey left it for time to disclose its defects and to furnish a remedy. \nAccordingly, since its adoption fifteen articles of amendment \nhave been passed and become incorporated with it. Twelve \nof these amendments were proposed by the first Congress itself \nin 1789. The remaining three grew out of the recent war for \nthe Union. These latter abolish and forever prohibit human \nslavery, and also declare that the right of citizens of the United \nStates to vote shall not be denied nor abridged by the United \nStates nor by any State on account of race, color, or previous \ncondition of servitude. So that by authority of the people of \nthe United States, and the favor of God, the Constitution framed \nby our fathers, now stands complete. By it the right of life, \nliberty, and the pursuit of happiness, is guaranteed to every \ncitizen of the Republic. \n\nThe monument, dedicated to Washington, did not reach its \ncompletion till all this had been accomplished. Nay, more. \nIt was not finished until the war for the Union had vindicated the \ntruth blazoned on our national escutcheon, " E Pluribus Unum," \nand shown that the Constitution makes the States a Nation, \n\n"Distinct like the billows, \nYet one like the sea." \n\nHad the result been otherwise, the monument had well re- \nmained incomplete. Had the result been otherwise, well had \nthe monument paused midway to its intended height, and stood \n\n\n\n34 \n\n\n\nforever and forevermore, pointing with sarcasm and unutterable \ndisappointment to the folly which had made shipwreck of a \nmatchless Government, blighted the prospects of posterity, and \nhurled back expectant millions, into hopeless servitude all round \nthe world. \n\nThe year 1881 completed a century since the Declaration of \nIndependence was made good in the close of the military opera- \ntions of the Revolution. Two years hence will complete a century \nsince the Constitution was adopted,and three years,a century since, \nin the city of New York, Washington was inaugurated President \nof the United States. We are living in the centennial of great \nevents. To the City and State of New York will therefore be \naccorded the honor of leading in 1889 the celebration of the Cen- \ntennial of Peace, of the Adoption of the Constitution, and of the \nInauguration of Washington. * \n\nThus it belonged to our fathers a century ago to set in motion \ninfluences whose power for good has continually intensified, and \nwhose sweep has widened with every successive year. In their de- \nvotion to the highest interest of their country and race, they com- \nbined zeal with wisdom. In the cabinet and in the field alike, \nthey wrought with only one object in view. They contended for \nthat which belonged to them as Englishmen, and which had been \nwith difficulty obtained by the sacrifices of many generations. \nMagna Charta was theirs. The Bill of Rights, secured at the \naccession of William and Mary, was theirs. The traditions of the \npast, bearing testimony to England\'s love of Liberty, w r ere theirs. \nAnd theirs they resolved they should continue to be; and not \nonly theirs, but also their children\'s, and their children\'s child- \nren\'s. With England they would gladly continue to enjoy these \nprivileges if they could ; without her, if they must. Fidelity to \ntheir high and sacred trust demanded separation. Separation \ncame. But true to the spirit and motive which impelled them to \nthis course, they embodied in written form the great principles of \nhuman justice and freedom for which they contended, and by \ncommon consent and common sacrifice, established as the organic \nlaw of the Republic, the Constitution under which we live ; a \nConstitution which secures to every citizen in the United States \n\n* As this Lecture is about to go to press the following appears in the New York Tribune of April \n7th, 1886 : \n\nNEW YOEK WOULD HAVE THE HONOR. \n\nWashington, April ".\xe2\x80\x94Representative Phelps, of Xew .Jersey, has received a telegraphic request \nfrom the New Fork Chamber of I lommerce i" offer us an amendment to the resolution introduced by \nMr. Butterworth for the appointment of a committee to consider the subject of a celebration in IS5H, \nat Washington, of the centennial anniversary of the formation of the Government under the Constitu- \ntion, "that the celebration shall be held in New York, where the event occurred.\' - \n\n\n\nalike, civil and religions privileges snch as render our country at \nthis hour the freest and most favored nation upon earth. \n\n"Thus was achieved," says Judge Story, "another and still \nmore glorious triumph in the cause of national liberty than even \nthat which separated us from the mother country. By it," he \nadds, "we fondly trust that our Republican institutions will grow \nup and be nurtured into more strength and vigor; our independ- \nence be secured against foreign usurpation and aggression ; our \ndomestic blessings be widely and generally felt ; and our Union, \nas a people, be perpetuated as our truest glory and support, and \nas a proud example of a wise and beneticent government, entitled \nto the respect, if not the admiration of mankind." \n\nIf what Curran, the great Irish orator, said of Britain was \ntrue of her in his day, nearly a hundred years ago, then we may \nassert, without fear of successful contradiction, that the same \nlanguage is doubly applicable to America in ours. And I now \nclaim for America under her matchless Constitution, what Cur- \nran proudly and justly claimed for Britain : "I speak," said he, \n"in the spirit of British law, which makes liberty commensurate \nwith and inseparable from the British soil \xe2\x80\x94 which proclaims, \neven to the stranger and the sojourner, the moment he sets his \nfoot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is \nholy, and consecrated by the genius of Universal Emancipation. \nNo matter in what language his doom may have been pro- \nnounced ; no matter what complexion incompatible with freedom, \nan Indian or an African sun may have burnt upon him; no \nmatter in what disastrous battle his liberty may have been \ncloven down ; no matter with what solemnities he may have been \ndevoted upon the altar of slavery ; the tirst moment he touches \nthe sacred soil of Britain the altar and the god sink together in \nthe dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; his body \nswells beyond the measure of his chains which burst from around \nhim, and he stands forth redeemed, regenerated, and disen- \nthralled, by the irresistible genius of Universal Emancipation." \n\nW e are told that " the Arab of the desert talks of Washington \nin his tent, and that his name is familiar to the wandering Scyth- \nian." And shall it be that we or our children admiring his char- \nacter, shall ever forget that the cause in which he became illus- \ntrious, was the cause of American Liberty ? Shall we, receiving \nat his hands the boon of civil and religious freedom, neglect the \nadmonitions which fell from his lips, and refuse to employ the \nmeans by which alone that freedom can be preserved \'. The her- \n\n\n\n36 \n\n\n\neulean labors, the immense sacrifices, which this great national \nfabric cost, should constrain us to say, that in our day at least, \nthat fabric shall not fall. Should such a calamity occur at all, \nit would produce universal regret. But should it occur by the \nact or the neglect of American citizens, the maledictions of a \nworld would descend upon us. And especially should it take \nplace now that the terrible ordeal of civil strife, and war for the \nUnion and the Constitution, through which the Republic has \ntriumphantly passed are over,then justly and surely should we be \ndenounced by the friends of freedom everywhere as having dese- \ncrated the altars of human liberty, and plucked down the fairest \ntemple ever dedicated to her honor by human hands. In snch an \nevent, curses, thicker than the hailstones, and keener than the \nlightning which desolated the land of Egvpt, would descend \nupon us, and we should almost anticipate the day of tinal doom, \nand call upon the rocks and the mountains to cover us, that we \nmight disappear forever from the withering glance of a disap- \npointed world. \n\nI speak strongly indeed, but not more strongly than I feel. \nI love my country; and it is in her behalf I speak. I love my \nchildren, and as I look upon them I cannot endure the thought \nthat the blessings of the Union, and of free institutions, shall not \nbe theirs to inherit. I love my race. With Chremes in Ter- \nrence, I may say : " Homo sum ; humani nihil a me, alienum \njputoP \n\nHence as I look over both hemispheres and survey the teeming \nmillions that now inhabit them, and especially when I reflect \nupon the incalculable numbers of coming generations, I cannot \nconsent that the experiment of Constitutional Liberty made under \nsuch unparalleled advantages should ever prove a failure, and \ntyrants thus be furnished with a sarcastic,an irresistible argument \nto wield against the friends of freedom through all future time, \nwhenever and wherever they shall presume to lift up their voices \nin the advocacy, and their hands in the defense of human rights. \n\nIn the words of Daniel Webster spoken at a public dinner \nin honor of Washington, and in the City of Washington, Feb. \n22d, 1S32, we may with increased emphasis say : "Other mis- \nfortunes may be borne,or their effects overcome. If disastrous war \nshould sweep our commerce from the ocean, another generation \nmay renew it ; if it exhaust our treasury, future industry may \nreplenish it ; if it desolate and lay waste our fields, still under a \nnew cultivation, they will grow green again, and ripen to future \n\n\n\n.;: \n\n\n\nharvests. It were but a trifle even if the walls of yonder Capitol \nwere to crumble, if its lofty pillars should fall, and its gorgeous \ndecorations be all covered with the dust of the valley. All these \nmight be rebuilt. But who shall reconstruct the fabric of demol- \nished government { Who shall rear again the well proportioned \ncolumns of constitutional liberty \'. Who shall frame together \nthe skillful architecture which unites national sovereignty with \nstate rights, individual security, and public prosperity \'. No, if \nthese columns fall, they will he raised not again. Like the Coli- \nseum and the Parthenon, they will be destined to a mournful, a \nmelancholy immortality. Bitterer tears, however, will flow over \nthem, than were ever shed over the monuments of Roman or \nGrecian art ; for they will be the remnants of a more glorious \nedifice than Greece or Borne ever saw \xe2\x80\x94 the edifice of constitu- \ntional American liberty." \n\nIf there was one thing which more than another Washington \nconsidered as essential under God to the preservation of the na- \ntional liberty, it was the Union of the States. Accordingly in \nhis farewell address to his countrymen he says : "The unity of \ngovernment which constitutes you one people is also now dear to \nyou. It is justly so ; for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your real \nindependence, the support of your tranquility at home, your peace \nabroad; of your safety ; of your prosperity ; of that very liberty \nwhich you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee, that \nfrom different causes and from different quarters, much pains \nwill be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds \nthe conviction of this truth ; as this is the point in the political \nfortress against which the batteries of internal and external \nenemies will be most constantly and actively (though often cov- \nertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment that you \nshould properly estimate the immense value of your national \nunion to your collective and individual happii \nthat you should cherish a cordial, habitual and immov- \nable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak \nof it as the palladium of your political safety and prosperity : \nwatching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discounten- \nancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any \nevent be abandoned ; and indignantly frowning upon the first \ndawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country \nfrom the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link to- \ngether the various parts." \n\nIt will be in harmony with the design of this discourse to speak \n\n\n\n38 \n\n\n\nof Washington\'s personal appearance. In the Scripture narra- \ntive respecting Saul chosen to be the ruler of Israel, it is said that \n" there was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than \nhe : from his shoulders and upward he was taller than any of the \npeople. \' "Of Washington\'s personal appearance," says one who \nevidently drew the picture from life, "little further need be re- \nmarked than that it comported entirely with the solid grandeur of \nhis character.. In respect to physique, no man could have been bet- \nter formed for command \xe2\x80\x94 a stature somewhat exceeding six feet, a \nfull but admirably proportioned frame, calculated to sustain \nfatigue without that heaviness which generally attends great mus- \ncular strength and abates active exertion, displayed bodily power \nof no mean standard. A light and full gray eye, firm forehead, \na Roman nose; his mouth was peculiar of its class \xe2\x80\x94 the lips firm, \nand the under jaw seeming to grasp the upper with force, as if its \nmuscles were in full action when he sat still. It was Washing- \nton\'s habit to fasten his eyes calmly and steadily upon those who \nwere ushered into his presence, whether friend or foe, nor was it a \nslight ordeal to thus meet his penetrating gaze. His limbs were \nlong, large and sinewy, and his frame was of equal breadth from \nthe shoulders to the hips; his joints were large, as were also his \nfeet, and the great size of his hand never failed to attract atten- \ntion. His gait and tread was that of a practiced soldier ; his de- \nportment invariably grave and reserved ; his speech sparing \nand deliberate. At home he wore the usual dress \nof a citizen ; on state occasions he dressed in a full \nsuit of the richest black velvet, with diamond knee buckles, and \nsquare silver buckles set upon shoes japanned with the most \nscrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the \nbreast and wrists, a light dress sword, his hair profusely powdered, \nfully dressed so as to project at the sides and gathered behind in \na silk bag ornamented with a large rose of black ribbon. In the \nprime of life Washington stood six feet two inches, and weighed \nnearly two hundred and twenty pounds ; he measured precisely \nsix feet when attired for the grave \'" \n\nThe death of Washington was in keeping with his life. It \ndid not find him unprepared. Just before the fatal attack he \nhad been making arrangements at Mt. Vernon for an improved \nfamily tomb. " This change,\'" he said to a relative, "I shall \nmake the first of all, for I may require it before the rest. I am \nof a short-lived family and cannot expect to remain long upon \nthe earth.\' 1 What was thus spoken of as possible, turned in a \n\n\n\n39 \n\n\n\nshort time into a sad reality. On the 12th of December, \n1799, he rode out to his farms, and during his absence encoun- \ntered a cold wind, accompanied with rain, hail and snow. This \nexposure was followed with serious indisposition, which, in the \nend, proved fatal. During his illness he could speak but little. \nTo the respectful and affectionate inquiries of an old family \nservant, who, as she smoothed down his pillow, asked how he felt, \nhe answered, " I am very ill." Penetrated with gratitude for \nattentions, he often said : " I am afraid 1 shall fatigue you too \nmuch." And on one occasion added, "Well, it is a debt we must \npay to each other, and I hope, when you want aid of this kind, \nyou will find it." Toward the close of the day on which he \nexpired the physician came into the room, and, upon going to the \nbedside, the General said to him : " Doctor, I die hard, but I \nam not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I \nshould not survive it. My breath cannot last long " The doctor \npressed his hand but could not utter a word. He retired from \nthe bedside and sat by the tire absorbed in grief. \n\n" Between live and six o\'clock," says one who was present, \n" Dr. Dick and Dr. Brown came into the room and with Dr. Craik \nwent to the bed when Dr. Craik asked the General if \nhe could sit up in bed. He held out his hand and \nI raised him up. He then said to the physicians, \n\' I feel myself going ; I thank you for your attentions ; but I \npray you to take no more trouble about me. Let me go off \nquietly. I cannot last long.\' After several ineffectual attempts \nto speak, he at length said, \'I am just going. Have me decently \nburied ; and do not let my body be put into the vault in less \nthan three days after I am dead.\' I bowed assent, for I could \nnot speak. He then looked at me again and said, \' Do you \nunderstand me ? \' \' Yes \' I replied. "T IS WELL,\' said he ; the \nlast words he ever uttered on earth. With surprising self-posses- \nsion he prepared to die \xe2\x80\x94 composing his form at full length, and \nfolding his arms on his bosom. About ten minutes before he \nexpired ( which was between ten and eleven o\'clock on Saturday \nevening) his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he \nwithdrew his hand from mine, and felt of his own pulse. I saw \nhis countenance change. 1 spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat. by the \nfire. He came to the bedside. The General\'s hand fell from \nbis wrist. 1 took it in mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. \nCraik put his hand over his eyes, and he expired without a \nstruggle or a sigh, December 14th, 1799, in the sixty-eighth year \n\n\n\n40 \n\n\n\nof his age, after an illness of twenty-four hours. While we \nwere fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was sitting at \nthe foot of the bed, asked in a firm and collected voice, \' Is he \ngone V I could not speak, but held up my hands as a signal that \nhe was no more. \' \'T is well,\' said she in the same voice, \' All \nis over now ; I shall soon follow him ; I have no more trials to \npass through.\' " \n\nThe burial took place on Wednesday, December eighteenth. \nThe ashes of AVashington now rest in a beautiful inclosure, \nwhich, in his later years, was selected by himself for a tomb. \n\nThe news of the sudden death of the illustrious patriot soon \nspread throughout his own country and also across the sea, and \nfilled every heart with surprise and lamentation. Men of every \nclass and clime joined in expressions of lofty, generous, unstinted \neulogy. \n\nA truly great man is not envious of the fame of another. " I \nfelt on his death," wrote Jefferson of Washington, " that \' verily \na great man hath fallen this day in Israel.\' " \n\nWhile Mr. Jefferson was riding, one starry night, with a mem- \nber of his family, the conversation fell upon Washington. \nPointing to the stars, he exclaimed ; \n\n"Washington\'s fame will go on increasing until the brightest \nconstellation in yonder heavens shall be called by his name ! \' \n\nA bust of Washington stood in the hall at Montieello many \nyears after Jefferson\'s retirement from public life. Some warm \nadmirer of his, living in France, sent a wreath of immortelles to \na member of his family, with the request that it \nmight, on his birthday, be placed around Mr. Jefferson\'s brow. \nThe day came, and the relative, informing the venerable man of \nthe request, attempted to crown him with the wreath. \n\n"Place it on Washington\'s bust," he said, raising his hand to \nprevent the intended honor. It was placed on the bust and rested \nthere for many years. \n\nSaid Napoleon : "The measure of Washington\'s fame is full. \nPosterity will talk of him as the founder of a great empire, \nwhen my name shall be lost in the vortex of revolutions." \n\n" I have a large acquaintance among the most valuable and \nexalted classes of men, "wrote Lord Erskine to Washington from \nLondon ; " but you are the only human being for whom I have \never felt an awful reverence." \n\nFrederick the Great, King of Prussia, in the year 1780, pre- \nsented General Washington with a picture of his majesty taken \n\n\n\n41 \n\n\n\nfrom life. Underneath it were inscribed the words : "From \nthe oldest General in Europe, to the greatest General on earth." \n\nIn the funeral oration delivered February, 1800, by the direc- \ntion of Napoleon in his own presence and in that of the great \ndignitaries of the realm, the orator, M. DeFontanes, declared the \nillustrious deceased to be \'\' a character worthy the best days of \nantiquity." \n\nTo speak of the grief and praises awakened among his own \ncountrymen would be vain. A mere catalogue of the demon- \nstrations, public and private, would consume more time in its \nperusal than has been devoted to this entire discourse. \n\nSuffice it to say, as a summary of the whole, Washington, the \npatriot, soldier, statesman, sage, was "First in war, first in \n\nPEACE, AND FIRST IN THE HEARTS OF HIS COUNTRYMEN." \n\nHaving thus presented the utterances and deeds of some of the \nleading actors in the great drama of the American Revolution, \nhaving held up the character and work of Washington, the \nillustrious representative of his scarcely less illustrious compat- \nriots, I come now to a reluctant conclusion, and complete the \ndesign proposed in this discourse by presenting once more to \nyour view the result of their combined labors, the matchless \nCONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. And, as I \nhave all along preferred to give t< > you in place of my own, the living \nwords of men both at home and abroad who were conspicuous in that \ngreat epoch of human history and since,so now I introduce as a most \nappropriate peroration, the glowing language of Judge Story, \nlanguage with which he closes his masterly Commentary upon the \nAmerican Constitution : " If what I have said shall but inspire \nany here with a more ardent love of their country, an unquench- \nable thirst for liberty, a profound love for the Constitution and \nand the Union, and a fervent gratitude to God, the source of our \ntriumphs and prosperity, then it will have accomplished all that \nit ought to desire. \n\n" Let Americans, and especially American youth, into whose \nhands the power of the country must soon fall, go back to the \nclose of the Revolutionary period, and contemplate the feeble- \nness and incompetency of the Confederation of States then \nexisting, and trace the steps by which the intelligence and patriot- \nism of the great men of that day led the country to the adoption \nof the existing Constitution ; let them never forget that they \npossess a noble inheritance bought by the toils, the sufferings, the \nblood of their ancestors, and capable, if wisely improved and \n\n\n\n42 \n\n\n\nfaithfully guarded, of transmitting to their latest posterity all the \nsubstantial blessings of life, the peaceful enjoyment of liberty, \nof religion, and of independence. \n\n" The structure has been erected by architects of consummate \nskill and fidelity ; its foundations are solid ; its compartments are \nbeautiful as well as useful; its arrangements are full of wisdom and \norder, and its defences are impregnable from without. It has been \nreared for immortality, if the work of man may justly aspire to \nsuch a title. It may nevertheless perish in an hour by the folly \nor corruption, or the negligence of its only keepers \xe2\x80\x94 the People. \nRepublics are created by the virtue, public spirit and intelligence \nof the citizens. They fall when the wise are banished from the \npublic councils because they dare to be honest, and the profligate \nare rewarded because they flatter the people in order to betray \nthem/\' \n\n\n\n!? \n\n\n\n" Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! \n\nSail on, O Union, strong and great ! \n\nHumanity, with all her fears, \n\nWith all the hopes of future years \n\nIs hanging breathless on thy fate ! \n\nWe know what Master laid thy keel, \n\nWhat Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel ; \n\nWho made each mast, and sail, and rope, \n\nWhat anvils rang, what hammers beat, \n\nIn what a forge, and what a heat \n\nWere shaped the anchors of thy hope ! \n\nFear not each sudden sound and shock, \n\n\' T is of the wave and not the rock ; \n\n\' T is but the flapping of the sail, \n\n\' T is but a rent made by the gale ! \n\nIn spite of rock and tempest\'s roar, \n\nIn spite of false lights on the shore, \n\nSail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! \n\nOur hearts, our hopes, are all with thee ; \n\nOur hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, \n\nOur faith triumphant o\'er our fears, \n\nAre all with thee\xe2\x80\x94 are all with thee !" \n\n\n\nx^-^7 \n\n\n\n\n\n\nm \n\n\n\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS \n\n\n\n\'-"\'lillllNllilllllllilll \n011 782 161 4 A \n\n\n\nm \n\n\n\n\n\xe2\x80\xa2 m^t \n\n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 \n! \n\n\n\n\n\n\n'