^f^i.<.i^^£Z /^^.,„^ >^^^ ^k^ty^n:^^. 
 
 lJt,^ 
 
 DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, 
 
 DECEMBER 22, 1820. 
 
 THE FIRST 
 
 SETTLEMENT OF NEWENGLAND. 
 
 BY 
 
 lyANIEL, WEBSTER. 
 
 THZIID EDITIOM'. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 WBXXS AND LILLY, — COURT-STREET. 
 
 1825. 
 
DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: 
 
 District C'krk^s Office. 
 
 BE it lememberMl, that on the twentieth day of December A. D. 1821, in the fortr sixth 
 year of the Independence of the United States of America, Wells & Lilly of the said District 
 nave deposited in this Office the title of a Book, the Right whereof they claim as Proprietors 
 m the Words following, to rvit .— 
 
 "A Discourse, delivered at Plymouth. December 22, 1820. In commemoration of the First 
 Settlement of New England. By Daniel Webster." 
 
 In Conformitj to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " An Act for the 
 i-ncouragenient of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps. Charts and Books, to the Au- 
 tnors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the times therein mentioned :" and also to an Act 
 entitled, -An Act supplementary to an Act, entitled. An Act for ihe Ent ourasrement of 
 Learning, by securing the Copies ol Maps. Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors 
 ot such Copies during the times therein mentioned : and extending the benefits thereof to the 
 Arts ot Designing, Engraving, and Etching Historical and other Prints." 
 
 JNO W. DAVIS, 
 Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 G4Pr 
 
 ESTATE Of 
 
 VflktIAM C. RIVES 
 
 APHIL, 1940 
 
 f 
 
 ,11^^ 
 

 CP 
 
 r\ 
 
 Plymouth, Dec. 23, 1820. 
 
 Hon. Daniel Webster, 
 
 SIR, 
 
 At a meeting of the Trustees of the Pilgrim Society, present, 
 John fVa[son, William Davis, James Sever, Alden Bradford, Barnabas 
 Hf.dge, Thomas Jackson, Jr. and Zabdiel Sampson, Esquires, Voted, 
 " That the thanks of the Trustees be presented to the Hoi?. Daniel 
 Webster, for his eloquent and interesting Discourse, delivered at 
 Plymouth, on the 22d instant, at their request, in commemoration of 
 the completion of the second century since the settlement of JVeit' Eng- 
 land — that 1)0 be requested to furnish a copy for publication — and that 
 the Corresponding Secretary communicate the preceding vote." 
 
 While in the performance of this duty, as honorable as it is pleasing, 
 I am directed to subjoin, that the Committee of the Massachusdls His- 
 torical Society, and of the American Antiquarian Society, who attended 
 on this occasion, by invitation, unite in the request. 
 
 With great esteem and regard, 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 Very Respectfully, 
 
 SAMUEL DAVIS, 
 
 Corresponding Secretary of the Pilgrim Society. 
 
Boston, Dec. 26, 1820. 
 
 SIR, 
 I HAVE received yours of the 23cl, communicating the request of the 
 Trustees of the Pilgiim Society, and of the Committee of the Historical 
 and Antiquarian Societies, that a copy of my Discourse may be furnish- 
 ed for the press. I shall cheerfully comply with this request ; but at the 
 sanie time I must add, that such is the nature of my other engagements, 
 that I hope I may be pardoned if I should be compelled to postpone 
 this compliance to a more distant day than 1 could otherwise have 
 wished. 
 
 I am, Sir, with true regard, 
 
 Your most obedient Servant, 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 To Samuf.l Davis, Esq. 
 Corresponding Secretary of the Pilgrim Society. 
 
®ig©®wm^^ 
 
 ^iP:<% 
 
 Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be 
 thankful that we have lived to see the bright and 
 happy breaking of the auspicious morn, which com- 
 mences the third century of the history of New- 
 England. Auspicious indeed ; bringing a happiness 
 beyond the common allotment of Providence to men ; 
 full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams 
 the prospect of futurity, is the dawn, that awakens 
 us to the commemoration of the Landing of the 
 Pilgrims. 
 
 Living at an epoch which naturally marks the 
 progress of the history of our native land, we have 
 come hither to celebrate the great event with 
 which that history commenced. Forever honoured 
 be this, the place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever 
 remembered the day which saw them, weary and 
 distressed, broken in every thing but spirit, poor in 
 all but faith and courage, at last secure from the 
 dangers of wintry seas, and impressing this shore 
 with the first footsteps of civilized man ! 
 
It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables 
 us to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our 
 happiness, with what is distant in place or time ; 
 and, looking before and after, to hold communion at 
 once with our ancestors and our posterity. Human 
 and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless 
 not mere insulated beings, without relation to the 
 past or the future. Neither the point of time, nor 
 the spot of earth, in which we physically live, 
 bounds our rational and intellectual enjoyments. 
 We live in the past by a knowledge of its history ; 
 and in the future by hope and anticipation. By 
 ascending to an association with our ancestors ; by 
 contemplating their example and studying their char- 
 acter; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing 
 their spirit ; by accompanying them in their toils, by 
 sympathising in their sufferings, and rejoicing in 
 their successes and their triumphs, we mingle our 
 own existence with theirs, and seem to belong to 
 their age. We become their contemporaries, live 
 the lives which they lived, endure what they en- 
 dured, and partake in the rewards which they en- 
 joyed. And in like manner, by running along the 
 line of future time, by contemplating the probable 
 fortunes of those who are coming after us ; by at- 
 tempting something which may promote their hap- 
 piness, and leave some not dishonourable memorial 
 of ourselves for their regard when we shall sleep 
 with the fathers, we protract our own earthly 
 being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as 
 
well as all that is past, into the narrow compass of 
 our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, 
 but an exalted and religious imagination, which leads 
 us to raise our thoughts from the orb, which, amidst 
 this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to 
 inhabit, and to send them with something of the 
 feeling which nature prompts, and teaches to be 
 proper among children of the same Eternal Parent, 
 to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow beings, 
 with which his goodness has peopled the infinite of 
 space ; — so neither is it false or vain to consider 
 ourselves as interested and connected with our whole 
 race, through all time ; allied to our ancestors ; allied 
 to our posterity ; closely compacted on all sides with 
 others ; ourselves being but links in the great chain 
 of being, which begins with the origin of our race, 
 runs onward through its successive generations, bind- 
 ing together the past, the present, and the future, 
 and terminating at last, with the consummation of 
 all things earthly, at the throne of God. 
 
 There may be, and there often is, indeed, a re- 
 gard for ancestry, which nourishes only a weak 
 pride ; as there is also a care for posterity, which 
 only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the 
 workings of a low and grovelling vanity. But there 
 is also a moral and philosophical respect for our 
 ancestors, which elevates the character and im- 
 proves the heart. Next to the sense of religious 
 duty and moral feeling, I hardly know what should 
 bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and en- 
 
lightened mind, than a consciousness of alliance with 
 excellence which is departed ; and a consciousness, 
 too, that in its acts and conduct, and even in its senti- 
 ments and thoughts, it may be actively operating on 
 the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry 
 is found to have few stronger conceptions, by which 
 it would affect or overwhelm the mind, than those 
 in which it presents the moving and speaking image 
 of the departed dead to the senses of the living. 
 This belongs to poetry, only because it is congenial 
 to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the 
 hand-maid of true philosophy and morality ; it deals 
 with us as human beings, naturally reverencing those 
 whose visible connexion with this state of existence 
 is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not 
 what sympathy with ourselves ; — and when it car- 
 ries us forward, also, and shows us the long continued 
 result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of 
 those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, 
 and absorbs us in an intense interest for what shall 
 happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in 
 the language of our nature, and affects us with 
 sentiments which belong to us as human beings. 
 
 Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our 
 posterity, we are assembled on this memorable spot, 
 to perform the duties, which that relation and the 
 present occasion impose upon us. We have come 
 to this Rock, to record here our homage for our 
 Pilgrim Fathers; our sympathy in their sufferings; 
 our gratitude for their labours ; our admiration of 
 
their virtues ; our veneration for their piety; and 
 our attachment to those prijiciples of civil and reli- 
 gious liberty, which they encountered the dangers 
 of the ocean, the storms of heaven, the violence of 
 savages, disease, exile, and famine, to enjoy and to 
 establish. — And we would leave here, also, for the 
 generations which are rising up rapidly to fill our 
 places, some proof, that we have endeavoured to 
 transmit the great inheritance unimpaired; that in 
 our estimate of public principles, and private virtue ; 
 in our veneration of religion and piety ; in our devo- 
 tion to civil and religious liberty ; in our regard to 
 whatever advances human knowledge, or improves 
 human happiness, we are not altogether unworthy 
 of our origin. 
 
 There is a local feeling, connected with this occa- 
 sion, too strong to be resisted; a sort of genius of the 
 place^ which inspires and awes us. We feel that we 
 are on the spot, where the first scene of our history 
 was laid; where the hei;rths and altars of New-En- 
 gland were first placed ; where Christianity, and ci- 
 vilization, and letters made their first lodgment, in a 
 vast extent of country, covered with a wilderness, 
 and peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, 
 at the season of the year at which the event took 
 place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly 
 draws around us the principal features, and the lead- 
 ing characters in the original scene. We cast our 
 eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where the 
 little barque, with the interesting group upon its 
 2 
 
10 
 
 deck, made its slow progress to the shore. We 
 look around us, and behold the hills and promonto- 
 ries, where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw 
 the places of habitation and of rest. We feel the 
 cold which benumbed, and listen to the winds which 
 pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock, on which 
 New-England received the feet of the Pilgrims. 
 We seem even to behold them, as they struggle 
 with the elements, and, with toilsome efforts gain 
 the shore. We listen to the chiefs in council; we 
 see the unexampled exhibition of female fortitude 
 and resignation ; we hear the whisperings of youth- 
 ful impatience, and we see, what a painter of our 
 own has also represented by his pencil, chilled and 
 shivering childhood, houseless, but for a mother's 
 arms, couchless, but for a mother's breast, till our 
 own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of Car- 
 ver and of Bradford ; the decisive and soldier-like 
 air and manner of Standish ; the devout Brewster; 
 the enterprising Allerton ; J^he general firmness and 
 thoughtfulness of the whole band; their conscious 
 joy for dangers escaped ; their deep solicitude about 
 dangers to come ; their trust in heaven; their high 
 religious faith, full of confidence and anticipation : — 
 all these seem to belong to this place, and to be 
 present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence 
 and admiration. 
 
 The settlement of New-England by the colony 
 which landed here on the twenty second of Decem- 
 ber, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not the 
 
11 
 
 first European establishment In what now constitutes 
 the United States, was yet so peculiar in its causes 
 and character, and has been followed, and must still 
 be followed, by such consequences, as to give it a 
 high claim to lasting commemoration. On these 
 causes and consequences, more than on its immedi- 
 ately attendant circumstances, its importance as an 
 historical event depends. Great actions and striking 
 occurrences, having excited a temporary admiration, 
 often pass away and are forgotten, because they 
 leave no lasting results, affecting the prosperity and 
 happiness of communities. Such is frequently the 
 fortune of the most brilliant military achievements. 
 Of the ten thousand battles which have been fought; 
 of all the fields fertilized with carnage ; of the ban- 
 ners which have been bathed in blood; of the war- 
 riors who have hoped that they had risen from the 
 field of conquest to a glory as bright and as durable 
 as the stars, how few that continue long to interest 
 mankind ! The victory of yesterday is reversed by 
 the defeat of to-day ; the star of military glory, ris- 
 ing like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen; disgrace 
 and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and re- 
 nown ; victor and vanquished presently pass away to 
 oblivion, and the world goes on in its course, with 
 the loss only of so many lives and so much treasure. 
 
 But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune 
 of military achievements, it is not always so. There 
 are enterprises, military as well as civil, which some- 
 times check the current of events, give a new turn 
 
12 
 
 to human affairs, and transmit their consequences 
 through ages. We see their importance in their re- 
 sults, and call them great, because great things fol- 
 low. There have been battles which have fixed the 
 fate of nations. These come down to us in history 
 with a solid and permanent interest, not cieated by a 
 display of glittering armour, the rush of adverse bat- 
 talions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, 
 the pursuit, and the victory ; but by their effect in 
 advancing or retarding human knowledge, in over- 
 throwing or establishing despotism, in extending or 
 destroying human happiness. When the traveller 
 pauses on the plain of Marathon, what are the emo- 
 tions which most strongly agitate his breast? What 
 is that glorious recollection, which thrills through 
 his frame, and suffuses his eyes? — Not, I imagine, 
 that Grecian skill and Grecian valour were here 
 most signally displayed ; but that Greece herself 
 was here saved. It is because to this spot, and to the 
 event which has rendered it immortal, he refers all 
 the succeeding glories of the republic. It is because 
 if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. 
 It is because he perceives that her philosophers, 
 and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptors 
 and architects, her governments and free institutions, 
 point backward to Marathon, and that their future 
 existence seems to have been suspended on the con- 
 tingency, whether the Persian or the Grecian ban- 
 ner should wave victorious in the beams of that 
 day's setting sun. And as his imagination kindles at 
 
13 
 
 the retrospect, he is transported back to the inter- 
 estinff moment, he counts the fearful odds of the con- 
 tendino- hosts, his interest for the result overwhelms 
 him; he trembles, as if it were still uncertain, and 
 seems to doubt, whether he may consider Socrates 
 and Plato, Demosthenes, Sophocles and Phidias, as 
 secure, yet, to himself and to the world. 
 
 "If we conquer," said the Athenian commander 
 on the morning of that decisive day, — " If we con- 
 quer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of 
 Greece." A prophecy, how well fulfilled ! — " If 
 God prosper us," might have been the more appro- 
 priate language of our Fathers, when they landed 
 upon this Rock, — "if God prosper us, we shall here 
 begin a work which shall last for ages ; we shall 
 plant here a new society, in the principles of the ful- 
 lest liberty, and the purest religion: we shall subdue 
 this wilderness which is before us ; we shall fill this 
 region of the great continent, which stretches al- 
 most from pole to pole, with civilization and chris^ 
 tianity ; the temples of the true God shall rise, 
 where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; 
 fields and gardens, the flowers of summer, and the 
 waving and golden harvests of autumn, shall extend 
 over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand 
 vallies, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to 
 the use of civilized man. We shall whiten this coast 
 with the canvas of a prosperous commerce ; we shall 
 stud the long and winding shore with an hundred 
 cities. That which we sow in weakness shall 
 
14 
 
 be raised in strength. From our sincere but house- 
 less worship, there shall spring splendid temples to 
 record God's goodness ; from the simplicity of our 
 social union, there shall arise wise and politic consti- 
 tutions of government, full of the liberty which Ave 
 ourselves bring and breathe ; from our zeal for 
 learning, institutions shall spring, which shall scatter 
 the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in 
 time, paying back where they have borrowed, shall 
 contribute their part to the great aggregate of hu- 
 man knowledge ; and our descendants, through all 
 generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this 
 hour, with unabated affection and regard." 
 
 A brief remembrance of the causes which led to 
 the settlement of this place ; some account of the 
 peculiarities and characteristic qualities of that set- 
 tlement, as distinguished from other instances of co- 
 lonization ; a short notice of the progress of New- 
 England in the great interests of Society, during the 
 century which is now elapsed ; with a few observa- 
 tions on the principles upon which society and gov- 
 ernment are established in this country; — comprise 
 all that can be attempted, and much more than can 
 be satisfactorily performed on the present occasion. 
 
 Of the motives which influenced the first settlers 
 to a voluntary exile, induced them to relinquish their 
 native country, and to seek an asylum in this then 
 unexplored wilderness, the first and principal, no 
 doubt, were connected with Religion. They sought 
 to enjoy a higher degree of Religious freedom, and 
 
15 
 
 what they esteemed a purer form of Religious wor- 
 ship, than was allowed to their choice, or presented 
 to their imitation, in the old world. The love of 
 Religious Liberty is a stronger sentiment, when fully 
 excited, than an attachment to civil or political free- 
 dom. That freedom which the conscience demands, 
 and which men feel bound by their hopes of salva- 
 tion to contend for, can hardly fail to be attained. 
 Conscience, in the cause of Religion, and the wor- 
 ship of the Deity, prepares the mind to act, and to 
 suffer beyond almost all other causes. It sometimes 
 gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters of 
 power or of opinion can withstand it. History in- 
 structs us that this love of Religious liberty, a com- 
 pound sentiment in the breast of man, made up of 
 the clearest sense of right, and the highest convic- 
 tion of duty, is able to look the sternest despotism 
 in the face, and with means apparently most inade- 
 quate, to shake principalities and powers. There 
 is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in religious reform- 
 ers, not to be measured by the general rules which 
 controul men's purposes and actions. li the hand of 
 power be laid upon it, this only seems to augment 
 its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to 
 be more formidable and terrible. Human invention 
 has devised nothing, human power has compassed 
 nothing that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks 
 forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it ; 
 nothing can check it, but indulgence. It loses its 
 power only when it has gained its object. The 
 
16 
 
 principle of toleration, to which the world has come 
 so slowly, is at once the most just and the most wise 
 of all principles. Even when religious feeling takes 
 a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and 
 seems to threaten the order of society, and shake 
 the columns of the social edifice, its principal danger 
 is in its restraint. If it be allowed indulgence and 
 expansion, like the elemental fires it only agitates 
 and perhaps purifies the atmosphere, while its ef- 
 forts to throw otr restraint would burst the world 
 asunder. 
 
 It is certain, that although many of them were 
 republicans in principle, we have no evidence that 
 our New-England ancestors would have emigrated, 
 as they did, from their own native country, become 
 wanderers in Europe, and finally undertaken the 
 establishment of a colony here, merely from their 
 dislike of the political systems of Europe. They 
 fled not so much from the civil ofovernment, as from 
 the Hierarchy, and the laws which enforced con- 
 formity to the Church Establishment. Mr. Robin- 
 son had left England as early as sixteen hundred and 
 eight, on account of the prosecutions for non-con- 
 formity, and had retired to Holland. He left Eng- 
 land, from no disappointed ambition in affairs of 
 state, from no regrets at the want of preferment in 
 the church, nor from any motive of distinction, or of 
 gain. Uniformity in matters of Religion was press- 
 ed with such extreme rigour, that a voluntary exile 
 seemed the most eligible mode of escaping from the 
 
17 
 
 penalties of non-compliance. The accession of Eli- 
 zabeth had, it is true, quenched the fires of Smith- 
 field, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the 
 crown of martyrdom. Her long reign had estab- 
 lished the Reformation, but toleration was a virtue 
 beyond her conception, and beyond the age. She 
 left no example of it to her successor; and he was 
 not of a character which rendered it probable that 
 a sentiment either so wise or so liberal should ori- 
 ginate with him. At the present period it seems 
 incredible, that the learned, accomplished, unassum- 
 ing, and inoffensive Robinson should neither be tol- 
 erated in his own peaceable mode of worship, in his 
 own country, nor suffered quietly to depart from it. 
 Yet such was the fact. He left his country by 
 stealth, that he might elsewhere enjoy those rights 
 which ought to belong to men in all countries. The 
 embarkation of the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply 
 interesting from its circumstances, and also as it 
 marks the character of the times; independently of 
 its connexion with names now incorporated with the 
 history of empire. The embarkation was intended 
 to be in the night, that it might escape the notice of 
 the officers of government. Great pains had been 
 taken to secure boats, which should come undiscov- 
 ered to the shore, and receive the fugitives ; and 
 frequent disappointments had been experienced in 
 this respect. At length the appointed time came, 
 bringing with it unusual severity of cold and rain. 
 An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of 
 3 
 
18 
 
 Lincolnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet 
 of the Pilgrims were to tread, for the last time, the 
 land of their fathers. 
 
 The vessel Avhich was to receive them did not 
 come until the next day, and in the mean time the 
 little band was collected, and men and women and 
 children and baa^gage were crowded together, in 
 melancholy and distressed confusion. The sea was 
 rough, and the women and children already sick, 
 from their passage down the river to the place of 
 embarcation. At length the wished for boat silently 
 and fearfully approaches the shore, and men and 
 women and children, shaking with fear and with 
 cold, as many as the small vessel could bear, venture 
 off on a dangerous sea. Immediately the advance of 
 horses is heard from behind, armed men appear, and 
 those not yet embarked are seized, and taken into 
 custody. In the hurry of the moment, there had 
 been no regard to the keeping together of families, 
 in the first embarcation, and on account of the ap- 
 pearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned 
 for the residue. Those who had got away, and 
 those who had not, were in equal distress. A storm, 
 of great violence and long duration, arose at sea, which 
 not only protracted the voyage, rendered distressing 
 by the want of all those accommodations which 
 the interruption of the embarcation had occasioned, 
 but also forced the vessel out of her course, and 
 menaced immediate shipwreck; while those on shore, 
 when they were dismissed from the custody of the 
 
19 
 
 officers of justice, having no longer homes or houses 
 to retire to, and their friends and protectors being 
 already gone, became objects of necessary charity 
 as well as of deep commiseration. 
 
 As this scene passes before us, we can hardly for- 
 bear asking, whether this be a band of malefactors 
 and felons flying from justice ? What are their 
 crimes, that they hide themselves in darkness ! — To 
 what punishment are they exposed, that to avoid it, 
 men, and women, and children, thus encounter the 
 surf of the North Sea, and the terrors of a night 
 storm? What induces this armed pursuit, and this 
 arrest of fugitives, of all ages and both sexes? — 
 Truth does not allow us to answer these inquiries, in a 
 manner that does credit to the wisdom or the justice 
 of the times. This was not the flight of guilt, but 
 of virtue. It was an humble and peaceable religion, 
 flying from causeless oppression. It was conscience, 
 attempting to escape from the arbitrary rule of the 
 Stuarts. It was Robinson, and Brewster, leading off 
 their little band from their native soil, at first to find 
 shelter on the shores of the neiffhbourinof continent, 
 but ultimately to come hither ; and having sur- 
 mounted all difficulties, and braved a thousand dan- 
 gers, to find here a place of refuge and of rest. 
 Thanks be to God, that this spot was honoured as 
 the asylum of religious liberty. May its standard, 
 reared here, remain forever! — May it rise up as 
 high as heaven, till its banner shall fan the air of 
 both continents, and wave as a glorious ensign of 
 peace and security to the nations ! 
 
20 
 
 The peculiar character, condition, and circum- 
 stances of the colonies which introduced civilization 
 and an English race into New-England, afford a most 
 interesting and extensive topic of discussion. On 
 these much of our subsequent character and fortune 
 has depended. Their influence has essentially af- 
 fected our whole history, through the two centuries 
 which have elapsed ; and as they have become 
 intimately connected with government, laws, and 
 property, as well as with our opinions on the subjects 
 of religion and civil liberty, that influence is likely 
 to continue to be felt through the centuries which 
 shall succeed. Emigration from one region to anoth- 
 er, and the emission of colonies to people countries 
 more or less distant from the residence of the pa- 
 rent stock, are common incidents in the history of 
 mankind ; but it has not often, perhaps never hap- 
 pened, that the establishment of colonies should be 
 attempted, under circumstances, however beset with 
 present difficulties and dangers, yet so favourable to 
 ultimate success, and so conducive to magnificent re- 
 sults, as those which attended the first settlements 
 on this part of the continent. In other instances, 
 emigration has proceeded from a less exalted pur- 
 pose, in a period of less general intelligence, or 
 more without plan and by accident ; or under cir- 
 cumstances, physical and moral, less favourable to 
 the expectation of laying a foundation for great 
 public prosperity and future empire. 
 
 A great resemblance exists, obviously, between 
 
21 
 
 all the English colonies, established within the pre- 
 sent limits of the United States ; but the occasion 
 attracts our attention more immediately to those 
 which took possession of New-England, and the pe- 
 culiarities of these furnish a strong contrast with 
 most other instances of colonization. 
 
 Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, 
 sent forth from their territories the greatest number 
 of colonies. So numerous indeed were they, and so 
 great the extent of space over which they were 
 spread, that the parent country fondly and naturally 
 persuaded herself, that by means of them she had 
 laid a sure foundation for the universal civilization 
 of the world. These establishments, from obvious 
 causes, were most numerous in places most contiguous; 
 yet they were found on the coasts of France, on the 
 shores of the Euxine sea, in Africa, and even, as is 
 alleged, on the borders of India. These emigra- 
 tions appear to have been sometimes voluntary and 
 sometimes compulsory; arising from the spontaneous 
 enterprise of individuals, or the order and regulation 
 of government. It was a common opinion with an- 
 cient writers, that they were undertaken in religious 
 obedience to the commands of oracles; and it is 
 probable that impressions of this sort might have 
 had more or less influence ; but it is probable, also, 
 that on these occasions the oracles did not speak a 
 language dissonant from the views and purposes of 
 the state. 
 
 Political science among the Greeks seems never 
 
22 
 
 to have extended to the comprehension of a system, 
 which should be adequate to the government of a 
 great nation upon principles of hberty. They were 
 accustomed only to the contemplation of small re- 
 publics, and were lead to consider an augmented 
 pupulation as incompatible with free institutions. 
 The desire of a remedy for this supposed evil, and 
 the wish to establish marts for trade, led the gov- 
 ernments often to undertake the establishment of 
 colonies as an affair of state expediency. Coloniza- 
 tion and commerce, indeed, would naturally become 
 objects of interest to an ingenious and enterprising 
 people, inhabiting a territory closely circumscribed 
 in its limits, and in no small part mountainous and 
 sterile ; while the islands of the adjacent seas, and 
 the promontories and coasts of the neighbouring 
 continents, by there mere proximity, strongly solicit- 
 ed the excited spirit of emigration. Such was this 
 proximity, in many instances, that the new settle- 
 ments appeared rather to be the mere extension of 
 population over contiguous territory, than the es- 
 tablishment of distant colonies. In proportion as 
 they were near to the parent state, they would be 
 under its authority, and partake of its fortunes. 
 The colony at Marseilles might perceive lightly, or 
 not at all, the sway of Phocis ; while the islands in 
 the Egean sea could hardly attain to independence 
 of their Athenian origin. Many of these establish- 
 ments took place at an early age ; and if there were 
 defects in the governments of the parent states, the 
 
23 
 
 colonists did not possess philosophy or experience 
 sufficient to correct such evils in their own institu- 
 tions, even if they had not been, by other causes, 
 deprived of the power. An immediate necessity, 
 connected with the support of life, was the main 
 and direct inducement to these undertakings, and 
 there could hardly exist more than the hope of a 
 successful imitation of institutions with which they 
 were already acquainted, and of holding an equality 
 with their neighbours in the course of improvement. 
 The laws and customs, both political and municipal, 
 as well as the religious worship of the parent city, 
 were transferred to the colony ; and the parent city 
 herself, with all such of her colonies as were not too 
 far remote for frequent intercourse and common 
 sentiments, would appear like a family of cities, 
 more or less dependent, and more or less connected. 
 We know how imperfect this system was, as a sys- 
 tem of general politics, and what scope it gave to 
 those mutual dissentions and conflicts which proved 
 so fatal to Greece. 
 
 But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to 
 observe, that nothing existed in the character of 
 Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and intelligence 
 of the emigrants, likely to give a new and important 
 direction to human affairs, or a new impulse to the 
 human mind. Their motives were not high enough, 
 their views were not sufficiently large and prospec- 
 tive. They went not forth, like our ancestors, to 
 erect systems of more perfect civil liberty, or to 
 
24 
 
 enjoy a higher degjree of religious freedom. Above 
 all, there was nothing in the religion and learning of 
 the age, that could either inspire high purposes, or 
 give the ability to execute them. Whatever re- 
 straints on civil liberty, or whatever abuses in reli- 
 gious worship, existed at the time of our fathers' 
 emigration, yet, even then, all was light in the moral 
 and mental world, in comparison with its condition in 
 most periods of the ancient states. The settlement 
 of a new continent, in an age of progressive knowl- 
 edge and improvement, could not but do more than 
 merely enlarge the natural boundaries of the habit- 
 able world. It could not but do much more even 
 than extend commerce and increase wealth among 
 the human race. We see how this event has acted 
 how it must have acted, and wonder only why it did 
 not act sooner, in the production of moral effects on 
 the state of human knowledge, the general tone of 
 human sentiments, and the prospects of human hap- 
 piness. It gave to civilized man not only a new 
 continent to be inhabited and cultivated, and new 
 seas to be explored ; but it gave him also a new 
 range for his thoughts, new objects for curiosity, and 
 new excitements to knowledge and improvement. 
 
 Roman colonization resembled, far less than that 
 of the Greeks, the original settlements of this coun- 
 try. Power and dominion were the objects of 
 Rome, even in her colonial establishments. Her 
 whole exterior aspect was for centuries hostile and 
 terrific. She grasped at dominion, from India to 
 
25 
 
 Britain, and her measures of colonization partook of 
 the character of her general system. Her pohcy 
 was military, because her objects were j)ovver, 
 ascendancy, and subjugation. Detachments of emi- 
 grants from Rome incorporated themselves with? 
 and governed, the original inhabitants of conquered 
 countries. She sent citizens where she had first 
 sent soldiers ; her law followed her sword. Her 
 colonies were a sort of military establishment ; so 
 many advanced posts in the career of her dominion. 
 A governor from Rome ruled the new colony with 
 absolute sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. 
 In Sicily, in Gaul, in Spain, and in Asia, the power 
 of Rome prevailed, not nominally only, but really 
 and effectually. Those who immediately exercised 
 it were Roman; the tone and tendency of its ad- 
 ministration, Roman. Rome herself continued to 
 be the heart and centre of the great system which 
 she had established. Extortion and rapacity, find- 
 ing a wide and often rich field of action in the pro- 
 vinces, looked nevertheless to the banks of the 
 Tiber, as the scene in which their ill-gotten treas- 
 ures should be displayed ; or if a spirit of more 
 honest acquisition prevailed, the object, neverthe- 
 less, was ultimate enjoyment in Rome itself. If our 
 own history, and our own times did not sufficiently 
 expose the inherent and incurable evils of provincial 
 government, we might see them pourtrayed, to our 
 amazement, in the desolated and ruined provinces of 
 the Roman empire. We might hear them, in a 
 4 
 
26 
 
 voice that terrifies us, in those strains of complaint 
 and accusation, which the advocates of the provin- 
 ces poured forth in the Roman Forum. — " Qiias res 
 luxuries m Jlagitiis, crudelitas in suppliciis, avaritia in 
 rapinis, superbia in contumeliis, ejicere potinsset^ eas 
 omneis sese pertulisse.''^ 
 
 As was to be expected, the Roman provinces par- 
 took of the fortunes as well as of the sentiments and 
 general character of the seat of empire. They lived 
 together with her, they flourished with her, and fell 
 with her. The branches were lopped away even be- 
 fore the vast and venerable trunk itself fell prostrate 
 to the earth. Nothing had proceeded from her, 
 which could support itself, and bear up the name of 
 its origin, when her own sustaining arm should be en- 
 feebled or withdrawn. It was not given to Rome 
 to see, either at her zenith, or in her decline, a child 
 of her own, distant indeed, and independent of her 
 controul, yet speaking her language and inheriting 
 her blood, springing forward to a competition with 
 her own power, and a comparison with her own 
 great renown. She saw not a vast region of the 
 earth, peopled from her stock, full of states and 
 political communities, improving upon the models of 
 her institutions, and breathing in fuller measure the 
 spirit which she had breathed in the best periods of 
 her existence; enjoying and extending her arts and 
 her literature ; rising rapidly from political child- 
 hood to manly strength and independence ; her off- 
 fipring, yet now her equal; unconnected with the 
 
27 
 
 causes which might affect the duration of her own 
 power and greatness ; of common origin, but not 
 linked to a common fate ; giving ample pledge, that 
 her name should not be forgotten, that her language 
 should not cease to be used among men ; that what- 
 soever she had done for human knowledge and 
 human happiness, should be treasured up and pre- 
 served ; that the record of her existence, and her 
 achievements, should not be obscured, although, in 
 the inscrutable purposes of Providence, it might be 
 her destiny to fall from opulence and splendour ; 
 although the time might come, when darkness should 
 settle on all her hills ; when foreign or domestic 
 violence should overturn her altars and her temples; 
 when ignorance and despotism should fill the places 
 where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had flourished ; 
 when the feet of barbarism should trample on the 
 tombs of her consuls, and the walls of her senate 
 house and forum echo only to the voice of savage 
 triumph. She saw not this glorious vision, to inspire 
 and fortify her against the possible decay or down- 
 fal of her power. Happy are they, who in our day 
 may behold it, if they shall contemplate it with the 
 sentiments which it ought to inspire ! 
 
 The New-England colonies differ quite as widely 
 from the Asiatic establishments of the modern Eu- 
 ropean Nations, as from the models of the Ancient 
 States. The sole object of those establishments 
 was originally trade ; although we have seen, in one 
 of them, the anomaly of a mere trading company 
 
attaining a political character, disbursing revenues, 
 and maintaining armies and fortresses, until it has 
 extended its control over seventy millions ol' people. 
 Differing from these and still differing more from 
 the New-England and Norih American Colonies, are 
 the European settlements in the West India Islands. 
 It is not strange, that Avhen men's minds were turn- 
 ed to the settlement of America, different objects 
 should be proposed by those who emigrated to the 
 different regions of so vast a country. Climate, soil, 
 and condition were not all equally favourable to all 
 pursuits. In the West Indies, the purpose of those 
 who went thither, was to engage in that species of 
 agriculture, suited to the soil and climate, which 
 seems to bear more resemblance to commerce, than 
 to the hard and plain tillage of New-England. The 
 great staples of these countries, being partly an 
 agricultural and partly a manufactured product, and 
 not being of the necessaries of life, become the ob- 
 ject of calculation, with respect to a profitable in- 
 vestment of capital, like any other enterprise of 
 trade or manufacture ; and more especially, as they 
 require, by necessity or habit, slave labour for their 
 production, the capital necessary to carry on the 
 work of this production is more considerable. The 
 West Indies are resorted to, therefore, rather for 
 the investment of capital, than for the purpose of 
 sustaining life by personal labour. Such as possess 
 a considerable amount of capital, or such as choose 
 to adventure in commercial speculations without 
 
29 
 
 capita), can alone be fitted to be emigrants to the 
 islands. The agriculture oi" these regions, as before 
 observed, is a sort of commerce ; and it is a species 
 of employment, in which labour seems to form an 
 inconsiderable inoredient in the productive causes ; 
 since the portion of white labour is exceedingly small, 
 and slave labour is rather more like profit on stock, 
 or capital, than labour properly so called. The in- 
 dividual who contemplates an establishment of this 
 kind, takes into the accoufit the cust of the necessa- 
 ry number of slaves, in the same manner as he cal- 
 culates the cost of the land. The uncertainty, too, 
 of this species of employment, affords another ground 
 of resemblance to commerce. Although gainful, on 
 the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very 
 disastrous for a single year, and as the capital is not 
 readily invested in other pursuits, bad crops, or bad 
 markets, not only affect the profits, but the capital 
 itself. Hence the sudden depressions which take 
 place in the value of such estates. 
 
 But the great and leading observation, relative to 
 these establishments, remains to be made. It is, that 
 the owners of the soil and of the capital seldom con- 
 sider themselves at home in the colony. A very great 
 portion of the soil itself is usually owned in the mo- 
 ther country ; a still greater is mortgaged for capital 
 obtained there ; and, in general, those who are to 
 derive an interest from the products, look to the 
 parent country as the place for enjoyment of their 
 wealth. The population is therefore constantly flue- 
 
30 
 
 tuating. Nobody conies but to return. A constant 
 succession of owners, agents, and factors takes place. 
 Whatsoever the soil, forced by the unmitigated toil 
 of slavery, can yield, is borne home to defray rents, 
 and interest, and agencies ; or to give the means of 
 living in a better society. In such a state, it is evi- 
 dent that no spirit of permanent improvement is 
 likely to spring up. Profits will not be invested with 
 a distant view of benefiting posterity. Roads and 
 canals will hardly be built ; schools Avill not be 
 founded ; colleges will not be endowed. There will 
 be few fixtures in society ; no principles of utility or 
 of elegance, planted now, with the hope of being 
 developed and expanded hereafter. Profit, imme- 
 diate profit, must be the principal active spring in 
 the social system. There may be many particular 
 exceptions to these general remarks, but the outline 
 of the whole, is such as is here drawn. 
 
 Another most important consequence of such a 
 state of things is, that no idea of independence of 
 the parent country is likely to arise ; unless indeed 
 it should spring up in a form, that would threaten 
 universal desolation. The inhabitants have no strong 
 attachment to the place which they inhabit. The 
 hope of a great portion of them is to leave it ; and 
 their great desire, to leave it soon. However useful 
 tbey may be to the parent state, how much soever 
 they may add to the conveniences and luxuries of 
 life, these colonies are not favoured spots for the 
 expansion of the human mind, for the progress of 
 
31 
 
 permanent improvement, or for sowing the seeds of 
 future independent empire. 
 
 Different, indeed, most widely different, from all 
 these instances of emigration and plantation, were 
 the condition, the purposes, and the prospects of our 
 Fathers, when they established their infant colony 
 upon this spot. They came hither to a land from 
 which they were never to return. Hither they had 
 brought, and here they were to fix, their hopes, 
 their attachments, and their objects. Some natural 
 tears they shed, as they left the pleasant abodes of 
 their fathers, and some emotions they suppressed, 
 when the white cliffs of their native country, now 
 seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. 
 They were acting however upon a resolution not to be 
 changed. With whatever stifled regrets, with what- 
 ever occasional hesitation, with whatever appalling 
 apprehensions, which might sometimes arise with 
 force to shake the firmest purpose, they had yet com- 
 mitted themselves to heaven and the elements ; and 
 a thousand leagues of water soon interposed to sepa- 
 rate them forever from the region which gave them 
 birth. A new existence awaited them here ; and 
 when they saw these shores, rough, cold, barbarous, 
 and barren as then they were, they beheld their 
 country. That mixed and strono- feelinof, which we 
 call love of country, and which is, in general, never 
 extinguished in the heart of man, grasped and em- 
 braced its proper object here. Whatever consti- 
 tutes country, except the earth and the sun, all the 
 
moral causes of afTectlon and attachment, which 
 operate upon the heart, thej had brought with them 
 to their new abode. Here were now their families 
 and friends ; their homes, and their property. 
 Before they reached the shore, they had estabhshed 
 the elements of a social system, and at a much ear- 
 lier period had settled their forms of religious wor- 
 ship. At the moment of their lauding, therefore, 
 they possessed institutions of government, and insti- 
 tutions of religion : and friends and families, and so- 
 cial and religious institutions, established by consent, 
 founded on choice and preference, iiow nearly do 
 these fill up our whole idea of country ! — The morn- 
 ing that beamed on the first night of their repose, 
 saw the Pilgrims already established in their coun- 
 try. There were political institutions, and civil li- 
 berty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied 
 nothing, in the wanderings of heroes, so distinct and 
 characteristic. Here was man, indeed, unprotected, 
 and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fear- 
 ful wilderness ; but it was politic, intelligent and 
 educated man. Every thing was civilized but the 
 phvsical world. Institutions containing in substance 
 all that ages had done for human government, were 
 established in a forest. Cultivated mind was to act 
 on uncultivated nature ; and, more than all, a go- 
 vernment, and a country, were to commence with 
 the very first foundations laid under the divine light 
 of the christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy 
 futuritv ! Who would wish, that his country's exis- 
 
33 
 
 tence had otherwise begun ? — Who would desire the 
 power of going back to the ages ot" table? Who 
 would wish for an origin, obscured in the darkness 
 of antiquity ? — Who Would wish for other embla- 
 zoning of his country's heraldry, or other ornaments 
 of her genealogy, than to be able to say, that her 
 first existence was with intelligence ; her first breath 
 the inspirations of liberty; her fust principle the 
 truth of divine religion? 
 
 Local attachments and sympathies would erelong 
 spring up in the breasts of our ancestors, endearing 
 to them the place of their refuge. Whatever natu- 
 ral objects are associated with interesting scenes and 
 high efforts, obtain a hold on human feeling, and de- 
 mand from the heart a sort of recognition and re- 
 gard. This Rock soon became hallowed in the 
 esteem of the Pilgrims, and these hills grateful to 
 their sight. Neither they nor their children were 
 again to till the soil of England, nor again to tra- 
 verse the seas which surrounded her. But here 
 was a new sea, now open to their enterprise, and a 
 new soil, which had not failed to respond gratefully 
 to their laborious industry, and which was already 
 assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had they pro- 
 vided shelter for the living, ere they were summon- 
 ed to erect sepulchres for the dead. The ground 
 had become sacred, by enclosing the remains of 
 some of their companions and connexions. A parent, 
 a child, a husband or a wife, had gone the way of 
 all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New-England. 
 
We naturally look with strong emotions to the spot, 
 though it be a wilderness, where the ashes of those 
 we have loved repose. Where the heart has laid 
 down what it loved most, it is desirous of laying 
 itself down. No sculptured marble, no enduring 
 monument, no honourable inscription, no ever burn- 
 ing taper that would drive away the darkness of 
 death, can soften our sense of the reality of mortali- 
 ty, and hallow to our feelings the ground which is to 
 cover us, like the consciousness that we shall sleep, 
 dust to dust, with the objects of our affections. 
 
 In a short time other causes sprung up to bind the 
 Pilgrims with new cords to their chosen land. Chil- 
 dren were born, and the hopes of future generations 
 arose, in the spot of their new habitation. T1k2 
 second generation found this the land of their na- 
 tivity, and saw that they were bound to its fortunes. 
 They beheld their father's graves around them, and 
 while they read the memorials of their toils and la- 
 bours, they rejoiced in the inheritance which they 
 found bequeathed to them. 
 
 Under the influence of these causes, it was to be 
 expected, that an interest and a feeling should arise 
 here, entirely diflferent from the interest and feeling 
 of mere Englishmen; and all the subsequent history 
 of the colonies proves this to have actually and gra- 
 dually taken place. With the general acknowledg- 
 ment of the supremacy of the British crown, there 
 was, from the first, a repugnance to an entire sub- 
 mission to the control of British legislation. The 
 
35 
 
 colonies stood upon their charters, which as they 
 contended, exempted them from the ordinary power 
 of the British parHament, and authorized them to 
 conduct their own concerns by their own councils. 
 They utterly resisted the notion that they were to 
 be ruled by the mere authority of the government 
 at home, and would not endure even that their own 
 charter governments should be established on the 
 other side of the Atlantic. It was not a controling 
 or protecting board in England, but a government of 
 their own, and existing immediately within their 
 limits, which could satisfy their wishes. It was easy 
 to foresee, what we know also to have happened, 
 that the first great cause of collision and jealousy 
 would be, under tlie notion of political economy 
 then and still prevalent in Europe, an attempt on 
 the part of the mother country to monopolize the 
 trade of the colonies. Whoever has looked deeply 
 into the causes which produced our revolution, has 
 found, if I mistake not, the original principle far 
 back in this claim, on the part of England, to mono- 
 polize our trade, and a continued eflfurt on the part 
 of the colonies to resist or evade that monopoly ; if 
 indeed it be not still more just and philosophical to 
 go farther back, and to consider it decided, (hat an 
 independent government must arise here, the mo- 
 ment it was ascertained that an English colonv, such 
 as landed in this place, could sustain itself against 
 the dangers which surrounded it, and, with other 
 similar establishments, overspread the land with an 
 
36 
 
 English population. Accidental causes retarded at 
 times, and at times accelerated the progress of the 
 controversy. The colonies wanted strength, and 
 time gave it to them. They required measures of 
 strong and palpable injustice on the part of the mo- 
 ther country, to justify resistance ; the early part of 
 the late King's reign furnished them. They needed 
 spirits of high order, of great daring, of long fore- 
 sight and of commanding pov>'er, to seize the favour- 
 ing occasion to strike a blow, which should sever, 
 forever, the tie of colonial dependence ; and these 
 spirits were found, in all the extent which that or 
 any crisis could demand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, 
 and the other immediate authors of our indepen- 
 dence. Still it is true, that for a century, causes 
 had been in operation tending to prtoare things for 
 this great result. In the year 1660 -he English act 
 of Navigation was passed ; the first and grand ob- 
 ject of which seems to have been to secure to Eng- 
 land the whole trade with her plantations. It was 
 provided, by that act, that none but English ships 
 should transport American produce over the ocean; 
 and that the principal articles of that produce should 
 be allowed to be sold only in the markets of the 
 mother country. Three years afterwards another 
 law was passed, which enacted, that such commodi- 
 ties as the colonies might wish to purchase, should 
 be bought only in the markets of the mother coun- 
 try. Severe rules were prescribed to enforce the 
 provisions of these laws, and heavy penalties impos- 
 
ed on all who should violate them. In the subse- 
 quent years of the same reign, other statutes were 
 passed, to reinforce these statutes, and other rules 
 prescribed, to secure a compliance with these rules. 
 In this manner was the trade, to and from the colo- 
 nies, tied up, almost to the exclusive advantage of 
 the parent country. But laws, which rendered the 
 interest of a whole people subordinate to that of 
 another people, were not likely to execute them- 
 selves ; nor was it easy to find many on the spot, 
 who could be depended upon for carrying them into 
 execution. In fact, these laws were more or less 
 evaded, or resisted, in all the colonies. To enforce 
 them was the constant endeavour of the government 
 at home ; to prevent or elude their operation, the 
 perpetual object here. " The laws of navigation," 
 says a living British writer, " were no where so 
 openly disobeyed and contemned, as in New-Eng- 
 land." " The people of Massachusetts Bay," he 
 adds, " were from the first disposed to act as if in- 
 dependent of the mother country, and havinsj a Go- 
 vernor and magistrates of their own choice, it was 
 difficult to enforce any regulation which came from 
 the English parliament, adverse to their interests." 
 To provide more effectually for the execution of 
 these laws, we know that courts of admiralty were 
 afterwards established by the crown, with power to 
 try revenue causes, as questions of admiralty, upon 
 the construction, given by the crown lawyers, to an 
 act of parliament ; — a great departure from the 
 
38 
 
 ordinary principles of English jurisprudence, but 
 which has been maintained, nevertheless, by the 
 force of habit and precedent, and is adopted in our 
 own existing systems of government. 
 
 " There lie," says another Ens^lish writer, whose 
 connexion with the Board of Trade has enabled him 
 to ascertain many facts connected with colonial his- 
 tory, — •' There lie among the documents in the 
 board of trade and paper office, the most satisfactory 
 proofs, from the epoch of the English revolution in 
 1688, throughout every reign, and during every ad- 
 ministration, of the settled purpose of the colonies to 
 acquire direct independence and positive sovereign- 
 ty." Perhaps this may be stated somewhat too 
 strongly ; but it cannot be denied, that from the 
 very nature of the establishments here, and from the 
 general character of the measures respecting their 
 concerns, early adopted, and steadily pursued by the 
 English government, a division of the empire was 
 the natural and necessary result to which every thing 
 tended. 
 
 I have dwelt on tiiis topic, because it seems to me, 
 that the peculiar original character of the New-En- 
 gland colonies, and certain causes coeval with their 
 existence, have had a strong and decided influence 
 on all their subsequent history, and especially on the 
 great event of the Revolution. Whoever would 
 write our history, and would understand and explain 
 early transactions, should comprehend the nature 
 and force of the feeling which I have endeavoured 
 
to describe. As a son, leaving the house of his fa- 
 ther for his own, finds, by the order of nature, and 
 the very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects 
 around which his atfections circle, while his attach- 
 ment to the parental roof becomes moderated, by 
 degrees, to a composed regard, and an affectionate 
 remembrance; so our ancestors, leaving their native 
 land, not without some violence to the feelings of 
 nature and affection, yet in time found here, a new 
 circle of engagements, interests, and affections ; a 
 feeling, which more and more encroached upon the 
 old, till an undivided sentiment, that this was their 
 country, occupied the heart ; and patriotism, shutting 
 out from its embraces the parent realm, became 
 local to America. 
 
 Some retrospect of the century which has now 
 elapsed, is among the duties of the occasion. It 
 must, however, necessarily be imperfect, to be com- 
 pressed within the limits of a single discourse. I 
 shall content myself, therefore, with taking notice of 
 a few of the leading, and most important, occurren- 
 ces, which have distinguished the period. 
 
 When the first century closed, the progress of the 
 country appeared to have been considerable ; not- 
 withstanding that, in comparison with its subsequent 
 advancement, it now seems otherwise. A broad and 
 lasting foundation had been laid : excellent institu- 
 tions had been established ; much of the prejudices 
 of former times had become removed ; a more liberal 
 and catholic spirit on subjects of religious concern had 
 
40 
 
 begun to extend itself, and many things conspired to 
 give promise of increasing future prosperity. Great 
 men had arisen in public life and the liberal profes- 
 sions. The Mathers, father and son, were then 
 sinking low in the western horizon ; Leverett, the 
 learned, the accomplished, the excellent Leveiett, 
 was about to withdraw his brilliant and useful liirht. 
 In Pemberton, great hopes had been suddenly ex- 
 tinguished, but Prince and Colman, were in our sky; 
 and the crepuscular light had begun to flash along 
 the East, of a great luminary which was about to 
 appear; and which was to mark the age with his 
 own name, as the age of Franklin. 
 
 The bloody Indian wars, which harassed the peo- 
 ple for a part of the first century; the restrictions 
 on the trade of the Colonies — added to the discour- 
 agements inherently belonging to all forms of colonial 
 government ; the distance from Europe, and the 
 small hope of immediate profit to adventurers, are 
 among the causes which had contributed to retard 
 the progress of population. Perhaps it may be ad- 
 ded, also, that during the period of the civil wars in 
 England, and the reign of Cromwell, many persons, 
 whose religious opinions and religious temper might, 
 under other circumstances have induced them to 
 join the New-England colonists, found reasons to re- 
 main in England ; either on account of active occu- 
 pation in the scenes which were passing, or of an an- 
 ticipation of the enjoyment, in their own country, of 
 a form of government, civil and religious, accommo- 
 
41 
 
 dated to their vieAvs and principles. The violent 
 measures, too, pursued against the Colonies in the 
 reign of Charles the second, the mockery of a trial, 
 and the forfeiture of the Charters, were serious 
 evils. And during the open violences of the short 
 reign of James the second, and the tyranny of An- 
 dros, as the venerable historian of Connecticut ob- 
 serves, " All the motives to great aclions, to industry, 
 economy, enterprize, wealth, and population, were in a 
 manner annihilated. A general inactivity and lan- 
 guishrnent pervaded the public body. Liberty, proper- 
 ty, and every thing which ought to be dear to men, every 
 day grew more and more insecure.''^ 
 
 With the revolution in England, a better prospect 
 had opened on this country, as well as on that. The 
 joy had been as great, at that event, and far more 
 universal in JYew, than in Old England. A new 
 Charter had been granted to Massachusetts, which, 
 although it did not confirm to her inhabitants all 
 their former privileges, yet relieved them from 
 great evils and embarrassments, and promised fu- 
 ture security. More than all, perhaps, the revolu- 
 tion in England, had done good to the general cause 
 of liberty and justice. A blow had been struck, in 
 favour of the rights and liberties, not of England 
 alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of England, 
 all over the world. Great political truths had been 
 established. The champions of liberty had been 
 successful in a fearful and perilous conflict. Somers, 
 and Cavendish, and JekyI, and Howard, had tri- 
 6 
 
42 
 
 umphed in one of the most noble causes ever un- 
 dertaken bj men. A revolution had been made 
 upon principle. A monarch had been dethroned, 
 for violating the original compact between King and 
 People. The rights of the people to partake in 
 the government, and to limit the monarch by fun- 
 damental rules of government, had been maintained; 
 and however unjust the government of England 
 might afterwards be, towards other governments or 
 towards her colonies, she had ceased to be governed 
 herself, by the arbitrary maxims of the Stuarts. 
 
 New-Eno^land had submitted to the violence of 
 James the second, not longer than Old England. 
 Not only was it reserved to Massachusetts, that on 
 her soil should be acted the first scene of that great 
 revolutionary Drama, which was to take place near 
 a century afterwards, but the English revolution 
 itself, as far as the Colonies were concerned, com- 
 menced in Boston. A direct and forcible resistance 
 to the authority of James the second, was the seiz- 
 ure and imprisonment of Andros, in April 1689. 
 The pulse of Liberty beat as high in the extremi- 
 ties, as at the heart. The vigorous feeling of the 
 Colony burst out, before it was known how the 
 parent country would finally conduct itself. The 
 King's representative, Sir Edmund Andros, was a 
 prisoner in the Castle at Boston, before it was or 
 could be known, that the King himself had ceased 
 to exercise his full dominion on the English throne. 
 
 Before it was known here, whether the invasion 
 
43 
 
 of the Prince of Orange would or could prove suc- 
 cessful ; as soon only as it was known that it had 
 been undertaken, the people of Massachusetts, at 
 the imminent hazard of their lives and fortunes, had 
 acconiphshed the revolution as far as respected 
 themselves. It is probable, that, reasoning on gen- 
 eral principles, and the known attachment of the 
 English people to their constitution and liberties, and 
 their deep and fixed dislike of the King's religion 
 and politics, the people of New-England expected a 
 catastrophe fatal to the power of the reigning 
 Prince. Yet, it was not either certain enough, or 
 near enough to come to their aid against the autho- 
 rity of the crown, in that crisis which had arrived, 
 and in which they trusted to put themselves, relying 
 on God, and on their own courage. There were 
 spirits in Massachusetts, congenial with the spirits of 
 the distinguished friends of the revolution in Eng- 
 land. There were those, who were fit to associate 
 with the boldest asserters of civil liberty ; and Ma- 
 ther himself, then in England, was not unworthy to 
 be ranked with those sons of the church, whose 
 firmness and spirit, in resisting kingly encroachment 
 in religion, entitled them to the gratitude of their 
 own and succeeding ages. 
 
 The Second Century opened upon New-England 
 under circumstances, which evinced, that much had 
 already been accomplished, and that still better 
 prospects, and brighter hopes, were before her. 
 She had laid, deep and strong, the foundations of 
 
44 
 
 her society. Her relloflous principles were firm, and 
 her moral habits exemplary. Her public schools 
 had begun to diffuse widely the elements of knowl- 
 edge ; and the College, under the excellent and ac- 
 ceptable administration of Leverett, had been raised 
 to a high degree of credit and usefulness. 
 
 The commercial character of the country, not- 
 withstanding all discouragements, had begun to dis- 
 play itself, and five hundred vessels, then belonging 
 to Massachusetts, placed her in relation to com- 
 ijnerce, thus early, at the head of the colonies. An 
 author who wrote very near the close of the first 
 century says ; " New-England is almost deserving 
 that noble name ; so mightily hath it increased ; and 
 from a small settlement, at first, is now become a 
 very populous and fiourishing government. The cap- 
 ital city, Boston, is a place of great wealth and 
 trade ; and by much the largest of any in the Eng- 
 lish empire of America; and not exceeded but by 
 few cities, perhaps two or three, in all the Ameri- 
 can world." 
 
 But, if our ancestors at the close of the first cen- 
 tury, could look back with joy, and even admiration, 
 at the progress of the country ; what emotions must 
 we not feel, when, from the point in which we 
 stand, we also look back and run along the events 
 of the century which has now closed ? The coun- 
 try, which then, as we have seen, was thought 
 deserving of a " noble name ;" which then had 
 *' mightily increased," and become "very populous;" 
 
45 
 
 what was it, in comparison with what our eyes behold 
 it ? At that period, a very great proportion of its 
 inhabitants lived in the Eastern section of Massa- 
 chusetts proper, and in this colony. In Connecticut, 
 there were towns along the coast, some of them 
 respectable, but in the interiour, all was a wilderness 
 beyond Hartford. On Connecticut river, settlements 
 had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and fort Dum- 
 mer had been built, near where is now the South line 
 of New-Hampshire. In New-Hampshire, no settle- 
 ment was then begun thirty miles from the mouth of 
 Piscataqua river, and, in what is now Maine, the inha- 
 bitants were confined to the coast. The aggregate of 
 the whole population of New-England did not exceed 
 one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present amount 
 is probably one million seven hundred thousand. 
 Instead of being confined to its former limits, her 
 population has rolled backward and filled up the 
 spaces included within her actual local boundaries. 
 Not this only, but it has overflowed those bounda- 
 ries, and the waves of emigration have pressed, far- 
 ther and farther, toward the Avest. The Alleghany 
 has not checked it ; the banks of the Ohio have 
 been covered with it. New-England farms, houses, 
 villages, and churches spread over, and adorn the 
 immense extent from the Ohio to Lake Erie ; and 
 stretch along, from the Alleghany, onwards beyond 
 the Miamies, and towards the Falls of St. Anthony. 
 Two thousand miles westward from the rock where 
 their fathers landed, may now be found the sons of 
 
46 
 
 the Pilgrims; cultivating smiling fields, rearing towns 
 and villages, and cherishing, we trust, the patrimo- 
 nial blessings of wise institutions, of liberty, and reli- 
 gion. The world has seen nothing like this. Re- 
 gions large enough to be empires, and which, half a 
 century ago, were known only as remote and unex- 
 plored wildernesses, are now teeming with popula- 
 tion, and prosperous in all the great concerns of life ; 
 in good governments, the means of subsistence, and 
 social happiness. It may be safely asserted, that 
 there are now more than a million of people, de- 
 scendants of New-England ancestry, living free and 
 happy, in regions, which hardly sixty years ago, were 
 tracts of unpenetrated forest. Nor do rivers, or 
 mountains, or seas resist the progress of industry and 
 enterprise. Ere long, the sons of the Pilgrims will 
 be on the shores of the Pacific. The imagination 
 hardly keeps up with the progress of population, 
 improvement, and civilization. 
 
 It is now five and forty years, since the growth 
 and rising glory of America were portrayed, in the 
 English parliament, with inimitable beauty, by the 
 most consummate orator of modern times. Going 
 back somewhat more than half a century, and de- 
 scribinoj our progress, as foreseen, from that point, 
 by his amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then living, he 
 spoke of the wonderful progress which America had 
 made, during the period of a single human life. 
 There is no American heart, I imagine, that does not 
 glow, both with conscious patriotic pride, and admi- 
 
47 
 
 ration for one of the liapplest efforts of eloquence, 
 so often as the vision, of " that little speck, scarce 
 visible in the mass of national interest, a small semi- 
 nal principle, rather than a formed bodj," and the 
 progress of its astonishing development and growth, 
 are recalled to the recollection. But a stronger 
 feeling might be produced, if we were able to take 
 up this prophetic description where he left it ; and 
 placing ourselves at the point of time in which he 
 was speaking, to set forth with equal felicity, the 
 subsequent progress of the country. There is yet 
 among the living, a most distinguished and venerable 
 name, a descendant of the Pilgrims ; one who has 
 been attended through life by a great and fortunate 
 genius; a man illustrious by his own great merits, 
 and favoured of Heaven in the long continuation of 
 his years. The time when the English orator was 
 thus speaking of America, preceded, but by a few 
 days, the actual opening of the revolutionary Drama 
 at Lexington. He to whom I have alluded, then at 
 the age of forty, was among the most zealous and 
 able defenders of the violated rights of his country. 
 He seemed already to have filled a full measure of 
 public service, and attained an honourable fame. 
 The moment was full of difficulty and danger, and 
 big with events of immeasurable importance. The 
 country was on the very brink of a civil war, of 
 Avhich no man could foretel the duration or the result. 
 Something more than a courageous hope, or charac- 
 teristic ardour, would have been necessary to im- 
 
48 
 
 press the glorious prospect on his belief, if, at that 
 moment, before the sound of the first shock of ac- 
 tual war had reached his ears, some attendant spirit 
 had opened to him the vision of the future ; if it had 
 said to him, "The blow is struck, and America is 
 severed from England forever!" if it had informed 
 him, that he himself, the next annual revolution of 
 the sun, should put his own hand to the great In- 
 strument of Independence, and write his name where 
 all nations should behold it, and all time should not 
 efface it ; that ere long he himself should maintain 
 the interest and represent the sovereignty of his 
 new-born country, in the proudest courts of Europe ; 
 that he should one day exercise her supreme ma- 
 gistracy ; that he should yet live to behold ten mil- 
 lions of fellow citizens paying him the homage of 
 their deepest gratitude and kindest affections ; that 
 he should see distinguished talent and high public 
 trust resting where his name rested ; that he should 
 even see with his own unclouded eyes, the close of 
 the second century of New England ; he who had 
 begun life almost with its commencement, and lived 
 through nearly half the whole history of his country; 
 and that on the morning of this auspicious day, he 
 should be found in the political councils of his native 
 state, revising, by the light of experience, that sys- 
 tem of government, which forty years before he 
 had assisted to frame and establish ; and great and 
 happy as he should then behold his country, there 
 should be nothing in prospect to cloud the scene, 
 
49 
 
 nothing to check the ardour of that confident and 
 patriotic hope, which should glow in his bosom to 
 the end of his long protracted and happy life. 
 
 It would far exceed the limits of this discourse, 
 even to mention the principal events in the civil and 
 political history of New-England during the century ; 
 the more so, as for the last half of the period, that 
 history has been, most happily, closely interwoven 
 with the general history of the United States. New- 
 England bore an honourable part in the wars which 
 took place between England and France. The cap- 
 ture of Louisbourg gave her a character for mili- 
 tary achievement ; and in the war which terminated 
 with the peace of 1763, her exertions on the fron- 
 tiers were of most essential service as well to the 
 mother country as to all the colonies. 
 
 In New-England the war of the revolution com- 
 menced. I address those who remember the memo- 
 rable 19th of April 1775; who shortly after saw 
 the burning spires of Charlestown ; who beheld the 
 deeds of Prescott, and heard the voice of Putnam 
 amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous 
 Warren fall, the first distinguished victim in the 
 cause of liberty. It would be superfluous to say, 
 that no portion of the country did more than the 
 states of New-England, to bring the revolutionary 
 struggle to a successful issue. It is scarcely less to 
 her credit, that she saw early the necessity of a 
 closer union of the states, and gave an efficient and 
 7 
 
50 
 
 ludispensible aid to the establishment and organiza- 
 tion of the federal government. 
 
 Perhaps we might safely say, thai a new spirit^ 
 and a new excitement began to exist here, about the 
 middle of the last century. To whatever causes it 
 may be imputed, there seems then to have com- 
 menced a more rapid improvement. The colonies 
 had attracted more of the attention of the mother 
 country, and some renown in arms had been acquir- 
 ed. Lord Chatham was the first English minister 
 who attached high importance to these possessions 
 of the crown, and who foresaw anything of their fu- 
 ture growth and extension. His opinion was, that 
 the great rival of England was chiefly to be feared 
 as a maritime and commercial power, and to drive 
 her out of North America and deprive her of her 
 West India possessions, was a leading object in his 
 policy. He dwelt often on the fisheries as nurseries 
 for British seamen, and the colonial trade as furnish- 
 ing them employment. The war, conducted by him 
 with so much vigour, terminated in a peace, by which 
 Canada was ceded to England* The etTect of this 
 was immediately visible in the New-England colo- 
 nies : for the fear of Indian hostilities on the fron- 
 tiers being now happily removed, settlements went 
 on with an activity before that time altogether un- 
 precedented, and public affairs wore a new and en- 
 couraging aspect. Shortly after this fortunate ter- 
 mination of the French war, the interesting topics 
 connected with the taxation of America by the Bri- 
 
SI 
 
 fish Parliament began to be discussed, and the at- 
 tention of all the faculties of the people drawn to- 
 wards them. There is perhaps no portion of our 
 history more full of interest than the period from 
 1760 to the actual commencement of the war. The 
 progress of opinion, in this period, though less known, 
 is not less important, than the progress of arras after- 
 wards. Nothing deserves more consideration than 
 those events and discussions which affected the pub- 
 lic sentiment, and settled the Revolution in men's 
 minds, before hostilities openly broke out. 
 
 Internal improvement followed the establishment, 
 and prosperous commencement, of the present go- 
 vernment. More has been done for roads, canals, 
 and other public works, within the last thirty years, 
 than in all our former history. In the first of these 
 particulars, few countries excel the New-England 
 States. The astonishing increase of their naviga- 
 tion and trade is known to every one, and now belongs 
 to the history of our national wealth. 
 
 We may flatter ourselves, too, that literature and 
 taste have not been stationary, and that some ad- 
 vancement has been made in the elegant, as well as 
 in the useful arts. 
 
 The nature and constitution of society and govern- 
 ment in this country, are interesting topics, to which 
 1 would devote what remains of the time allowed to 
 this occasion. Of our system of government, the 
 first thing to be said, is, that it is really and practi- 
 cally a free system. It originates entirely with the 
 
52 
 
 people, and rests on no other foundation than their 
 assent. To judge of its actual operation, it is not 
 enough to look merely at the form of its construction. 
 The practical character of government depends 
 often on a variety of considerations, besides the ab- 
 stract frame of its constitutional organization. Among 
 these, are the condition and tenure of property ; the 
 laws regulating its ahenation and descent ; the pre- 
 sence or absence of a military power ; an armed or 
 unarmed yeomanry ; the spirit of the age, and the 
 degree of general intelligence. In these respects it 
 cannot be denied, that the circumstances of this 
 country are most favourable to the hope of main- 
 taining the government of a great nation on princi- 
 ples entirely popular. In the absence of military 
 power, the nature of government must essentially 
 depend on the manner in which property is holden 
 and distributed. There is a natural influence belong- 
 ing to property, whether it exists in many hands or 
 few; and it is on the rights of property, that both 
 despotism and unrestrained popular violence ordina- 
 rily commence their attacks. Our ancestors began 
 their system of government here, under a condition 
 of comparative equality in regard to wealth, and 
 their early laws were of a nature to favour and con- 
 tinue this equality.* A republican form of govern- 
 
 * The contents of several of the following pages will be found also in the 
 printed account of the proceedings of the Massachusetts convention, in some 
 remarks made by the author a few days before the delivery of this discourse. 
 As those remarks were originally written for this discourse, it was thought 
 proper not to omit them, in the publication, notwithstanding this circumstance. 
 
53 
 
 inent rests, not more on political Constitutions, than 
 on those laws which regulate the descent and 
 transmission of property. — Governments like ours 
 could not have been maintained, where property 
 was holden according to the principles of the feu- 
 dal system; nor, on the other hand, could the feu- 
 dal Constitution possibly exist with us. Our New 
 England ancestors brought hither no great capitals 
 from Europe; and if they had, there was nothing 
 productive, in which they could have been invested. 
 They left behind them the whole feudal policy of 
 the other continent. They broke away, at once, 
 from the system of military service, established in 
 the dark ages, and which continues, down even to 
 the present time, more or less to affect the condi- 
 tion of property all over Europe. They came to a 
 new country. There were, as yet, no lands yield- 
 ing rent, and no tenants rendering service. The 
 whole soil was unreclaimed from barbarism. They 
 were themselves, either from their original condi- 
 tion, or from the necessity of their common interest, 
 nearly on a general level, in respect to property. 
 Their situation demanded a parcelling out and di- 
 vision of the lands ; and it may be fairly said, that 
 this necessary act fixed the future frame and form 
 of their government. The character of their politi- 
 cal institutions was determined by the fundamental 
 laws respecting property. The laws rendered es- 
 tates divisible among sons and daughters. The right 
 of primogeniture, at first limited and curtailed, was 
 
6i 
 
 afterwards abolished. The property was all free- 
 hold. The entailment of estates, long trusts, and the 
 other processes for fettering and tying up inheritan- 
 ces, were not applicable to the condition of society, 
 and seldom made use of. On the contrary, aliena- 
 tion of the land was every way facilitated, even to 
 the subjecting of it to every species of debt. The 
 establishment of public registries, and the simplicity 
 of our forms of conveyance, have greatly facilitated 
 the change of real estate, from one proprietor to 
 another. The consequence of all these causes has 
 been, a great subdivision of the soil, and a great 
 equality of condition ; the true basis most certainly 
 of a popular government. — ^" If the people," says 
 Harrington, " hold three parts in four of the terri- 
 tory, it is plain there can neither be any single per- 
 son nor nobility able to dispute the government with 
 them ; in this case therefore, except Jorce be interpos- 
 ed, they govern themselves." 
 
 The history of other nations may teach us how 
 favourable to public liberty is the division of the 
 soil into small freeholds, and a system of laws, of 
 which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, 
 to produce and to preserve a degree of equality of 
 property. It has been estimated, if I qjistake not, 
 that about the time of Henry the VII., four fifths 
 of the land in England, was holden by the great 
 barons and ecclesiastics. The effects of a growing 
 commerce soon afterwards beo^an to break in on this 
 state of things, and before the revolution in 1688 a 
 
55 
 
 vast change had been wrought. It may be thought 
 probable, that, for the last half century, the process 
 of subdivision in England, has been retarded, if not 
 reversed ; that the great weight of taxation has 
 compelled many of the lesser freeholders to dispose 
 of their estates, and to seek employment in the 
 array and navy ; in the professions of civil life ; in 
 commerce or in the colonies. The effect of this on 
 the British Constitution cannot but be most unfa- 
 vourable. A few large estates grow larger ; but 
 the number of those who have no estates also in- 
 creases ; and there may be danger, lest the inequal- 
 ity of property become so great, that those who 
 possess it may be dispossessed by force ; in other 
 words that the government may be overturned. 
 
 A most interesting experiment of the effect of a 
 subdivision of property on government, is now mak- 
 ing in France. It is understood, that the law regu- 
 lating the transmission of property, in that country, 
 now divides it, real and personal, among all the chil- 
 dren, equally, both sons and daughters ; and that 
 there is, also, a very great restraint on the power of 
 making dispositions of property by will. It has 
 been supposed, that the effects of this might proba- 
 bly be, in time, to break up the soil into such small 
 subdivisions, that the proprietors would be too 'poor 
 to resist the encroachments of executive power. I 
 think far otherwise. What is lost in individual 
 wealth, will be more than gained, in numbers, in in- 
 telligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. Tf in-' 
 
56 
 
 deed, only one, or a few landholders were to resist 
 the crown, like the barons of England, they must, 
 of course, be great and powerful landholders with 
 multitudes of retainers, to promise success. But if 
 the proprietors of a given extent of territory are 
 summoned to resistance, there is no reason to believe 
 that such resistance would be less forcible, or less 
 successful, because the number of such proprietors 
 should be great. Each would perceive his own im- 
 portance, and his own interest, and would feel that 
 natural elevation of character which the conscious- 
 ness of property inspires. A common sentiment would 
 unite all, and numbers would not only add strength, 
 but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France 
 possesses a vast military force, under the direction 
 of an hereditary executive government; and military 
 power, it is possible, may overthrow any government. 
 It is, in vain, however, in this period of the world, to 
 look for security against military power, to the arm of 
 the great landholders. That notion is derived from 
 a state of things long since past ; a state in which a 
 feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand against 
 the sovereign, who was himself but the greatest 
 baron, and his retainers. But at present, what could 
 the richest landholder do, against one regiment of dis- 
 ciplined troops? Other securities, therefore, against 
 the prevalence of military power must be provided. 
 Happily for us, we are not so situated as that any 
 purpose of national defence requires, ordinarily and 
 constantly, such a military force as might seriously 
 endanger our liberties. 
 
57 
 
 In respect, however, to the recent law of succes- 
 sion in France, to which I have alluded, I would, 
 presumptuously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that 
 if the government do not change the law, the law, 
 in half a century, will change the government; and 
 that this change will be not in favour of the power 
 of the crown, as some European writers have sup- 
 posed; but against it. Those writers only reason 
 upon what they think correct general principles, in 
 relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want 
 of experience. Here we have had that experience; 
 and we know that a multitude of small proprietors, 
 acting with intelligence, and that enthusiasm which 
 a common cause inspires, constitute not only a formi- 
 dable, but an invincible power. 
 
 The true principle of a free and popular govern- 
 ment would seem to be, so to construct it, as to give 
 to all, or at least to a very great majority, an inter- 
 est in its preservation : to found it, as other things 
 are founded, on men's interest. The stability of 
 government requires that those who desire its con- 
 tinuance should be more powerful than those who 
 desire its dissolution. This power, of course, is not 
 always to be measured by mere numbers. — Educa- 
 tion, wealth, talents, are all parts and elements of 
 the general aggregate of power; but numbers, never- 
 theless, constitute ordinarily the most important con- 
 sideration, unless indeed there be a military force, in 
 the hands of the few, by which they can controul the 
 many. In this country we have actually existing 
 8 
 
58 
 
 systems of government, in the maintenance of which, 
 it should seem, a great majority, both in numbers 
 and in other means of power and influence, must see 
 their interest. But this state of things is not brought 
 about solely by written political constitutions, or the 
 mere manner of organizing the government: but also 
 by the laws which regulate the descent and trans- 
 mission of property. The freest government, if it 
 could exist, would not be long acceptable, if the 
 tendency of the laws were to create a rapid accu- 
 mulation of property in few hands, and to render 
 the great mass of the population dependent and 
 pcnnyless. In such a case, the popular power would 
 be likely to break in upon the rights of property, or 
 else the influence of property to limit and controul 
 the exercise of popular power. — Universal suflrage, 
 for example, could not long exist in a community, 
 where there was great inequality of property. The 
 holders of estates would be obliged in such case, 
 either, in some way, to restrain the right of suffrage ; 
 or else such right of suflrage would, long before, di- 
 vide the property. In the nature of things, those 
 who have not property, and see their neighbours 
 possess much more than they think them to need, 
 cannot be favourable to laws made for the protec- 
 tion of property. When this class becomes numer- 
 ous, it o-rows clamorous. It looks on property as its 
 prey and plunder, and is naturally ready, at all 
 times, for violence and revolution. 
 
 It would seem, then, to be the part of political 
 
59 
 
 wisdom, to found government on property ; and to 
 establish such distribution of property, by the laws 
 which regulate its transmission and alienation, as to 
 interest the great majority of society in the support 
 of the government. This is, I imagine, the true 
 theory and the actual practice of our republican in- 
 stitutions. With property divided, as we have it, 
 no other government than that of a republic could 
 be maintained, even were we foolish enough to desire 
 it. There is reason, therefore, to expect a long con- 
 tinuance of our systems. Party and passion, doubtless, 
 may prevail at times, and much temporary mischief 
 be done. Even modes and forms may be changed, 
 and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution, 
 in regard to property, must take place, before our 
 governments can be moved from their republican 
 basis, unless they be violently struck ofif by military 
 power. The people possess the property, more 
 emphatically than it could ever be said of the peo- 
 ple of any other country, and they can have no in- 
 terest to overturn a government which protects that 
 property by equal laws. 
 
 Let it not be supposed, that this state of things 
 possesses too strong tendencies towards the produc- 
 tion of a dead and uninteresting level in society. 
 Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the 
 infinite diversities in the characters and fortunes of 
 individuals. Talent, activity, industry, and enter- 
 prize tend at all times to produce inequality and 
 distinction ; and there is room still for the accumula- 
 
60 
 
 tion of wealth, with Its great advantages, to all rea- 
 sonable and useful extent. It has been often urged 
 against the state of society in America, that it fur- 
 nishes no class of men of fortune and leisure. This 
 may be partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the 
 evil, if it be one, would affect rather the progress 
 of taste and literature, than the general prosperity 
 of the people. But the promotion of taste and 
 literature cannot be primary objects of political in- 
 stitutions; and if they could, it might be doubted, 
 whether, in the long course of things, as much is 
 not gained by a wide diffusion of general knowledge, 
 as is lost by abridging the number of those whom 
 fortune and leisure enable to devote themselves ex- 
 clusively to scientific and literary pursuits. How- 
 ever this may be, it is to be considered that it is the 
 spirit of our system to be equal, and general, and if 
 there be particular disadvantages incident to this, 
 they are far more than counterbalanced by the ben- 
 efits which weigh against them. The important 
 concerns of society are generally conducted, in all 
 countries, by the men of business and practical abili- 
 ty ; and even in matters of taste and literature, the 
 advantasfes of mere leisure are liable to be over- 
 rated. If there exist adequate means of education, 
 and the love of letters be excited, that love will find 
 its way to the object of its desire, through the crowd 
 and pressure of the most busy society. 
 
 Connected with this division of property, and the 
 consequent participation of the great mass of people, 
 
61 
 
 in Its possession and enjoyments, is the system of re- 
 presentation, which is admirably accommodated to 
 our condition, better understood among us, and more 
 familiarly and extensively practised, in the higher 
 and in the lower departments of government, than 
 it has been with any other people. Great facility 
 has been given to this in New-England by the early 
 division of the country into townships or small dis- 
 tricts, in which all concerns of local police are regu- 
 lated, and in which representatives to the Legislature 
 are elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of these 
 little bodies. They are so many Councils, or Par- 
 liaments, in which common interests are discussed, 
 and useful knowledge acquired and communicated. 
 
 The division of governments into departments,, 
 and the division, again, of the legislative department 
 into two chambers, are essential provisions in our 
 systems. This last, although not new in itself, yet 
 seems to be new in its application to governments 
 wholly popular. The Grecian Republics, it is plain, 
 knew nothing of it ; and in Rome, the check and 
 balance of legislative power, such as it was, lay be- 
 tween the People and the Senate. Indeed few 
 things are more difficult than to ascertain accurately 
 the true nature and construction of the Roman 
 Commonwealth. The relative power of the Senate 
 and the People, the Consuls and the Tribunes, ap- 
 pears not to have been at all times the same, nor at 
 any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Ci- 
 cero, indeed, describes to us an admirable arrange- 
 
ment of political power, and a balance of the consti- 
 tion, in that beautiful passage, in which he compares 
 the democracies of Greece with the Roman Com- 
 monwealth. " O morem praeclarum, disciplinamque, 
 quam a majoribus accepimiis^ si quidem teneremus ! sed 
 nescio quo pacto jam de manibus elabitur. JYuUam 
 enim illi nostri sapientissimi et sandissimi viri vim 
 concionis esse voluerunt, quae scisseret plebs, aut quae 
 popidus juberet ; summota condone, distributis partibus, 
 iributim, et centuriatim, descriptis ordinibus, classibus, 
 cBtatibus, auditis auctoribus, re multos dies promulgata 
 et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Graecorum avr 
 tern totae respublicae sedentis concionis temeritate ad- 
 ministrantury 
 
 But at what time this wise system existed in this 
 perfection at Rome, no proofs remain to show. Her 
 constitution, originally framed for a monarchy, never 
 seemed to be adjusted, in its several parts, after the 
 expulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it 
 was a disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. 
 The patrician and plebeian orders, instead of being 
 matched and joined, each in its just place and pro- 
 portion, to sustain the fabric of the state, were 
 rather like hostile powers, in perpetual conflict. 
 With us, an attempt has been made, and so far not 
 without success, to divide representation into Cham- 
 bers, and by ditference of age, character, qualification 
 or mode of election, to establish salutary checks, in 
 governments altogether elective 
 
63 
 
 Having detained you so long with these observa- 
 tions, I must yet advert to another most interesting 
 topic, the Free Schools. In this particular New- 
 England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of 
 a peculiar character. She early adopted and has 
 constantly maintained the principle, that it is the un- 
 doubted right, and the bounden duty of government, 
 to provide for the instruction of all youth. That 
 which is elsewhere left to chance, or to charity, we 
 secure by law. For the purpose of public instruc- 
 tion, we hold every man subject to taxation in pro- 
 portion to his property, and we look not to the ques- 
 tion, whether he himself have, or have not, children 
 to be benefited by the education for which he pays. 
 We regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, 
 by which propert}', and life, and the peace of socie- 
 ty are secured. We seek to prevent, in some mea- 
 sure, the extension of the penal code, by inspiring a 
 salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of 
 knowledge in an early age. We hope to excite a 
 feeling of respectability, and a sense of character, 
 by enlarging the capacity, and increasing the sphere 
 of intellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, 
 we seek, as far as possible, to purify the whole moral 
 atmosphere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and 
 to turn the strong current of feeling and opinion, as 
 well as the censures of the law, and the denuncia- 
 tions of religion, against immorality and crime. We 
 hope for a security, beyond the law, and above the 
 law, in the prevalence of enlightened and well prin- 
 
64 
 
 clpled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and 
 prolong the time, when, in the villages and farm 
 houses of New-England, there may be undisturbed 
 sleep within unbarred doors. And knowing that our 
 government rests directly on the public will, that we 
 may preserve it, we endeavour to give a safe and 
 proper direction to that public will. We do not, in- 
 deed, expect all men to be philosophers or states- 
 men ; but we confidently trust, and our expectation 
 of the duration of our system of government rests on 
 that trust, that by the diffusion of general knowledge 
 and good and virtuous sentiments, the political fa- 
 bric may be secure, as well against open violence 
 and overthrow, as against the slow but sure under- 
 mining of licentiousness. 
 
 We know, that at the present time, an attempt is 
 making in the English Parliament to provide by law 
 for the education of the poor, and that a gentleman 
 of distinguished character, (Mr. Brougham) has 
 taken the lead, in presenting a plan to government 
 for carrying that purpose into effect. And yet, al- 
 though the representatives of the three kingdoms 
 listened to him with astonishment as well as delight, 
 we hear no principles, with which we ourselves have 
 not been familiar from youth ; we see nothing in the 
 plan, but an approach towards that system which has 
 been established in New-England for more than a 
 century and a half. It is said that in England, not 
 more than one child in ffteen possesses the means of 
 being taught to read and write ; in Wales, one in 
 
65 
 
 twenty ; in France, until lately, when some improve- 
 ment has been made, not more than one in thirty-five. 
 Now, it is hardly too strong to say, that in New-En- 
 gland, every child possesses such means. It would be 
 difficult to find an instance to the contrary, unless 
 where it should be owing to the negligence of the 
 parent ; — and in truth the means are actually used 
 and enjoyed by nearly every one. A youth of fif- 
 teen, of either sex, who cannot both read and write, 
 is very unfrequently to be found. Who can make 
 this comparison, or contemplate this spectacle, with- 
 out delight and a feeling of just pride ? Does any 
 history shew property more beneficently applied ? 
 Did any government ever subject the property of 
 those who have estates, to a burden, for a purpose 
 more favourable to the poor, or more useful to the 
 whole community ? 
 
 A conviction of the importance of public instruc- 
 tion was one of the earliest sentiments of our ances- 
 tors. No lawgiver of ancient or modern times has 
 expressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser mea- 
 sures, than the early records of the Colony of Ply- 
 mouth show to have prevailed here. Assembled on 
 this very spot, a hundred and fifty-three years ago, 
 the legislature of this Colony declared ; " For as 
 much as the maintenance of good literature doth 
 much tend to the advancement of the weal and flour- 
 ishing state of Societies and Republics, this Court 
 doth therefore order, that in whatever township in 
 this government, consisting of fifty families or up- 
 9 
 
6() 
 
 wards, any meet man shall be obtained to teach a 
 grarnrnir school, such township shall allow at least 
 twelve pounds, to be raised by rate, on all the inha- 
 bitants." 
 
 Having provided, that all youth should be instruct- 
 ed in the elements of learning by the institution oi" 
 Free Schools, our ancestors had yet another duty to 
 perform. Men were to be educated for tlie profes- 
 sions, and the public. For this purpose they found- 
 ed the University, and with incredible zeal and per- 
 severance they cherished and supported it, through 
 all trials and discouragements. On the subject of 
 the University, it is not possible for a son of New- 
 England to think without pleasure, nor to speak 
 without emotion. Nothing confers more honour on 
 the state where it is established, or more utility on 
 the country at large. A respectable University is 
 an establishment, which must be the Avork of time. 
 If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new insti- 
 tution could possess character and respectability at 
 once. We owe deep obligation to our ancestors^ 
 who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, 
 the work of building up this institution. 
 
 Although established in a different government, 
 the Colony of Plymouth manifested warm friendship 
 for Harvard College. At an early period, its go- 
 vernment took measures to promote a general sub- 
 scription throughout all the towns in this Colony, in 
 aid of its small funds. Other Colleges were subse- 
 quently founded and endowed, in other places, as the 
 
67 
 
 ability of the people allowed ; and we may flatter 
 ourselves, that the means of education, at present 
 enjoyed in New-England, are not only adequate to 
 the diffusion of the elements of knowledge among 
 all classes, but sufficient also for respectable attain- 
 ments in literature and the sciences. 
 
 Lastly, our ancestors have founded their system 
 of government on morality and religious sentiment. 
 Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be trust- 
 ed on any other foundation than religious principle, 
 nor any government be secure which is not support- 
 ed by moral habits. Living under the heavenly 
 light of revelation, they hoped to find all the social 
 dispositions, all the duties which men owe to each 
 other, and to society, enforced and performed. 
 Whatever makes men good christians, makes them 
 good citizens. Our fathers came here to enjoy their 
 religion free and unmolested; and, at the end of two 
 centuries, there is nothing upon which we can pro- 
 nounce more confidently, nothing of which we can 
 express a more deep and earnest conviction, than of 
 the inestimable importance of that religion to man, 
 both in regard to this life, and that which is to come. 
 
 If the blessings of our political and social condition 
 have not now been too highly estimated, we cannot 
 well over-rate the responsihiiity af)d duty which they 
 impose upon us. We hold these institutions of go- 
 vernment, religion, and learning, to be transmitted, 
 as well as enjoyed. We are in the line of convey-^ 
 ance, through which whatever has been obtained by 
 
68 
 
 the spirit and efforts of our ancestors, is to be com- 
 municated to our children. 
 
 We are bound to maintain public liberty, and by 
 the example of our own systems, to convince the 
 Avorld, that order, and law, religion, and morality, 
 the rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and 
 the rights of property, may all be preserved and se- 
 cured, in the most perfect manner, by a government 
 entirely and purely elective. If we fail in this, our 
 disaster will be signal, and will furnish an argument, 
 stronger than has yet been found, in support of those 
 opinions, which maintain that government can rest 
 safely on nothing but power and coercion. As far 
 as experience may show errors in our establishments, 
 we are bound to correct them ; and if any practices 
 exist, contrary to the principles of justice and hu- 
 manity, within the reach of our laws or our influence, 
 we are inexcusable if we do not exert ourselves to 
 restrain and abolish them. 
 
 I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that 
 the land is not wholly free from the contamination 
 of a traffic, at which every feeling of humanity must 
 forever revolt — I mean the African slave trade. 
 Neither public sentiment, nor the law, has hitherto 
 been able entirely to put an end to this odious and 
 abominable trade. At the moment when God, in 
 his mercy, has blessed the Christian world with an 
 universal peace, there is reason to fear, that to the 
 disgrace of the Christian name and character, new 
 efforts are making for the extension of this trade, by 
 subjects and citizens of Christian states, in whose 
 
e9 
 
 hearts no sentiment of humanity or justice inhabits, 
 and over whom neither the fear of God nor the fear 
 of man exercises a controul. In the sight of our 
 law, the African slave trader is a pirate and a felon; 
 and in the sight of heaven, an offender far beyond 
 the ordinary depth of human guilt. There is no 
 brighter part of our history, than that which records 
 the measures which have been adopted by the go- 
 vernment, at an early day, and at different times 
 since, for the suppression of this traffic; and I would 
 call on all the true sons of New-England, to co-ope- 
 rate with the laws of man, and the justice of heaven..^ 
 If there be, within the extent of our knowledge or 
 influence, any participation in this traffic, let us 
 pledge ourselves here, upon the Rock of Plymouth, ^ 
 to extirpate and destroy it. It is not fit, that the 
 land of the Pilo^rims should bear the shame Ioniser.. 
 I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke 
 of the furnaces where manacles and fetters are still 
 forged for human limbs. I see the visages of those, 
 who by stealth, and at midnight, labour in this work 
 of hell, foul and dark, as may become the artificers 
 of such instruments of misery and torture. Let that 
 spot be purified, or let it cease to be of New-En- 
 gland. Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from 
 the Christian world ; let it be put out of the circle 
 of human sympathies and human regards, and let 
 civilized man henceforth have no communion with it. 
 I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice, 
 and all who minister at her altar, that they execute 
 the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. I 
 
70 
 
 invoke the ministers of our religion, that they pro- 
 claim its denunciation of these crimes, and add its 
 solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. If 
 the pulpit be silent, whenever, or wherever, there 
 may be a sinner bloody with this guilt, within the 
 hearing of its voice, the pulpit is false to its trust. 
 I call on the fair merchant, who has reaped his har- 
 vest upon the seas, that he assist in scourging from 
 those seas the worst pirates which ever infested 
 them. That ocean, which seems to wave with a 
 gentle magnificence to waft the burdens of an hon- 
 est commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a 
 conscious pride; that ocean, which hardy industry 
 regards, even when the winds have ruffled its sur- 
 face, as a field of grateful toil ; what is it to the vic- 
 tim of this oppression, when he is brought to its 
 shores, and looks forth upon it, for the first time, 
 from beneath chains, and bleeding with stripes ? 
 What is it to him, but a wide spead prospect of suf- 
 fering, anguish, and death? Nor do the skies smile 
 longer, nor is the air longer fragrant to him. The 
 sun is cast down from heaven. An inhuman and ac- 
 cursed trafhc has cut him off in his manhood, or in 
 his youth, from every enjoyment belonging to his 
 being, and every blessing which his Creator intend- 
 ed for him. 
 
 The Christian communities send forth their emis- 
 saries of religion and letters, who stop, here and 
 there alony. the coast of the vast continent of Africa, 
 and with painful and tedious efforts, make some al- 
 most imperceptible progress in the communication 
 
7J 
 
 of knowledge, and in the general improvement of 
 the natives who arc immediately about them. Not 
 thus slow and imperceptible is the transmission of 
 the vices and bad passions which the subjects of 
 Christian states carry to the land. The slave trade 
 having touched the coast, its influence and its evils 
 spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, 
 making savage wars more savage, and more frequent, 
 and adding new and fierce passions to the contests 
 of barbarians. 
 
 I pursue this topic no further ; except again to 
 say, that all Christendom being now blessed with 
 peace, is bound by every thing which belongs to its 
 character, and to the character of the present age, 
 to put a stop to this inhuman and disgraceful traffic. 
 
 We are bound not only to maintain the general 
 principles of public liberty, but to support also those 
 existing forms of government, which have so well 
 secured its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the 
 public prosperity. It is now more than thirty years 
 that these States have been united under the Fede- 
 lar Constitution, and whatever fortune may await 
 them hereafter, it is impossible that this period of 
 their history should not be regarded as distinguish- 
 ed by signal prosperity and success. They must be 
 sanguine, indeed, who can hope for benefit from 
 change. Whatever division of the public judgment 
 may have existed in relation to particular measures 
 of the government, all must agree, one should think. 
 in the opinion, that in its general course it has been 
 eminently productive of public happiness. Its most 
 
r2 
 
 ardent friends could not well have hoped from it 
 more than it has accomplished ; and those who dis- 
 believed or doubted ought to feel less concern about 
 predictions, which the event has not verified, than 
 pleasure in the good which has been obtained. Who- 
 ever shall hereafter write this part of our history, 
 although he may see occasional errors or defects, 
 will be able to record no great failure in the ends 
 and objects of government. Still less will he be 
 able to record any series of lawless and despotic acts, 
 or any successful usurpation. His page will contain 
 no exhibition of provinces depopulated, of civil au- 
 thority habitually trampled down by military power, 
 or of a community crushed by the burden of taxa- 
 tion. He will speak, rather, of public liberty pro- 
 tected, and public happiness advanced ; of increased 
 revenue, and population augmented beyond all ex- 
 ample ; of the growth of commerce, manufactures, 
 and the arts ; and of that happy condition, in which 
 the restraint and coercion of government are almost 
 invisible and imperceptible, and its influence felt only 
 in the benefits which it confers. We can entertain 
 no better wish for our own country than that this 
 government may be preserved; nor have we a 
 clearer duty than to maintain and support it in the 
 full exercise of all its just constitutional powers. 
 
 The cause of science and literature also imposes 
 upon us an important and delicate trust. The wealth 
 and population of the country are now so far ad- 
 vanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct 
 literature, and a well formed taste, as well as respect- 
 
73 
 
 able progress in the abstruse sciences. The country 
 has risen from a state of colonial dependency ; it 
 has established an indc{)cndcnt government, and is 
 now in the undisturbed enjoyment of peace and po- 
 litical security. The elements of knowledge are 
 universally diffused, and the leading portion of the 
 community large. Let us hope that the present 
 may be an auspicious era of literature. If, almost 
 on the day of their landing, our ancestors founded 
 schools and endowed colleges, what obligations do 
 not rest upon us, living under circumstances so much 
 more favourable both for providing and for using the 
 means of education? Literature becomes free in- 
 stitutions. It is the graceful ornament of civil liber- 
 ty, and a happy restraint on the asperities, which 
 political controversy sometimes occasions. Just taste 
 is not only an embellishment of society, but it rises 
 almost to the rank of the virtues, and diffuses posi- 
 tive good throughout the whole extent of its influ- 
 ence. There is a connexion between right feeling 
 and right principles, and truth in taste is allied with 
 truth in morality. With nothing in our past history 
 to discourage us, and with something in our present 
 condition and prospects to animate us, let us hope, 
 that as it is our fortune to live in an age when we 
 may behold a wonderful advancement of the country 
 in all its other great interests, we may see also equal 
 progress and success attend the cause of letters. 
 
 Finally, let us not forget the religious character 
 of our origin. Our fathers were brought hither by 
 10 
 
74 
 
 their high veneration for the Christian Religion. 
 They journeyed by its light, and laboured in its 
 hope. They sought to incorporate its principles 
 with the elements of their society, and to diffuse its 
 influence through all their institutions, civil, political, 
 or literary. Let us cherish these sentiments, and 
 extend this influence still more widely ; in the full 
 conviction, that that is the happiest society, which 
 partakes in the highest degree of the mild and 
 peaceable spirit of Christianity. 
 
 The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this 
 occasion will soon be passed. Neither we nor our 
 children can expect to behold its return. They are 
 in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in 
 the all-creating power of God, who shall stand here, 
 a hundred years hence, to trace, through us, their de- 
 scent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now 
 surveyed, the progress of their country, during the 
 lapse of a century. We would anticipate their concur- 
 rence with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our 
 common ancestors. We would anticipate and partake 
 the pleasure with which they will then recount the 
 steps of New-England's advancement. On the morning 
 of that day, although it will not disturb us in our re- 
 pose, the voice of acclamation and gratitude, com- 
 mencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be trans- 
 mitted through millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, 
 till it lose itself in the murmurs of the Pacific seas. 
 
 We w^ould leave for the consideration of those 
 who shall then occupy our places, some proof that 
 we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in 
 
75 
 
 just estimation ; some proof of our attachment to 
 the cause of good government, and of civil and reli- 
 gious liberty; some proof of a sincere and ardent 
 desire to promote every thing which may enlarge 
 the understandings and improve the hearts of men. 
 And when, from the long distance of an hundred 
 years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, 
 at least, that we possessed affections, which running 
 backward, and warming with gratitude for what our 
 ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward 
 also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial sal- 
 utation, ere yet they liave arriy.e^,,^p fe^ifeligjSS 
 
 Being. ^-yy,,., nr> nv/ni;.I 
 
 Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would 
 hail you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill 
 the places which we now fill, and to taste the bles- 
 sings of existence, where we are passing, and soon 
 shall have passed, our own human duration. We 
 bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the Fa- 
 thers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies, 
 and the verdant fields of New-England. We greet 
 your accession to the great inheritance which we 
 have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessino-s of 
 good government, and religious liberty. We wel- 
 come you to the treasures of science, and the de- 
 lights of learning. We welcome you to the tran- 
 scendant sweets of domestic life, to the happiness 
 of kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome 
 you to the immeasurable blessings of rational exis- 
 tence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the 
 light of everlasting Truth ! 
 
y 
 
 fCjjpentrijf. 
 
 Tke following is a list of the Discoukses delivered on this jlnniversarij. 
 Those marked with an asterisk have not been printed. 
 
 1769. First publicly noticed by the Old Colony Club. 
 
 1770. Edward Winslow, jun. Esq. of Plymouth, an Oration.* 
 
 1771. (Lord's Day) the next day (23d) a public dinner. 
 
 1772. Rev. Chandler Robbins, oi Plymouth, on Ps. Ixxviii. 6. 7.* 
 
 1773. Rev. Charles Turner, Dvxbury, Zeck. iv. 10. 
 
 1774. Rev. Gad Hitchcock, Pembroke, Gen. i. 31. 
 
 1775. Rev. Samuel Baldwin, Hanover, Heb. xi. 8. 
 
 1776. Rev. Sylvanus Conant, Middleborough, Exod. i. 12. 
 
 1777. Rev. Samuel West, Dartmouth, Isai. Ixvi. 5 — 9. 
 
 1778. Rev. Timothu Hilliard, Barnstable*- 
 
 1779. Rev. William Shaw, Marshfield* 
 
 1780. Rev. Jonathan Moore, Rochester, Isai. xli. 10. 11.* 
 
 From this time the public observance of the day was suspended, till 
 
 1794. Rev. Chandler Robbins, D.D. Plymouth, Psal. Ixxvii. 11. 
 1795._1796, — 1797. Private celebration. 
 
 179iJ. Doct. Zacheus Bartlett, Plymoulh, an Oration.* 
 
 1799. The day was so near that appointed for the ordination of the Rev. 
 
 Mr. Kendall, that it was not celebrated by a public disccurse. 
 
 1800. John Davis, Esq. Boston, an Oration.* ^ 
 
 1801. Rev. John Allyn, Duxbury, Heb. xii. 2. 
 
 1802. John Quincy Adams, Esq. Boston, an Oration. 
 
 1803. Rev. John T. Kirkland, D.D. Boston, Prov. xvii. 6.* 
 
 1804. (Lord's Daj') Rev. James Kendall, of Plymouth, preached from 
 
 Heb. xi. 13.* 
 
 1305. Aldkn Bradford, Esq. JViscassel, Exod. xii. 14. 
 
 1806. Rev. Abiel Holmes, D.D. Cambridge, Romans, ix. 5. 
 
 1807. Rev. James Freeman, Boston.* 
 
 1803. Rev. Thaddeus M. Harris, Dorchester, Ps. xliv. 1.2. 3. 
 
 1809. Rev. Abiel Abbott, Beverly, Deut. xxxii. 11. 12. 
 
 1810. Private celebration. 
 
 1811. (Loiil's Day) Rev, John Elliot, D.D. Boston.* 
 1812. 1813. — 1814. Private celebration. 
 
 1S15. Rev. James Flint, Bridaeu-ater, Ps. xvi. 6. 
 
 1816. (Lord's Day) Rev. Ezra Goodwin, Sandwich, Isai. Ix. 22.* 
 
 1817. Rev. Horace Holley, Boston.* 
 
 1818. Wendell Davis, Esq. an Oration.* 
 
 1819. Francis C. Gray, Esq. Boston, an Oration.* 
 
 1820. Hon. Daniel Webster, Boston, an Oration. 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^^n 13 '-^'^