AN
ADDRESS
DELIVERED AT THE MUSIC HALL, BOSTON,
IN AID OF THE
FUND FOR BALL'S EQUESTRIAN STATUE
OF WASHINGTON,
ON THE
EVENING OF 13 MAY, 1859,
BY~
ROBERT Ci.~?INTHROP.
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BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
M DCCC LIX.
].
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts
RIYERSIDE, cAMBRIDGE:
PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
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INTRODUCTION.
THE following Address was first delivered in Baltimore, on the
evening of 2d of May, 1859, in aid of the Funds of the Young
Men's Christian Association of that city. It is here published, by
request, as delivered at the Music Hall in Boston, on the 13th of
May following, in aid of an object for which it had been previously
promised.
On this latter occasion, after a chorus by the "Orpheus Glee
Club," which had kindly volunteered for the purpose, the object of
the Address was introduced as follows, by the HON. ALEXANDER
H. RICE, as Chairman of a Committee, appointed by the Artists of
Boston, to procure funds for casting in bronze the design of Mr.
THOMAS BALL for an Equestrian Statue of Washington:
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:
I have been requested by the committee who have in charge the
erection of Ball's equestrian statue of Washington in the city of
Boston, to introduce the subject and the orator of the evening.
And remembering that those who read books commonly skip the
preface, especially if it be long, in their eagerness to reach the interest of the following volume, I shall apply the warning to the
present occasion, and hope to secure your patience for the preparatory word by postponing for a moment only the intellectual banquet
for which we are already impatient. I shall therefore perform my
whole duty if I but sound the homely note of preparation, and hint
at the object to be attained, leaving all the poetry of the theme to
the same eloquent lips whose inauguration of other monuments and
statues, of marble or imperishable bronze, has likewise adorned the
literature of our country with contributions equally beautiful and
permanent. [Applause.] Nothing more strikingly indicates the
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progress of taste and the maturity of general intelligence, than the
interest which is beginning to he exhibited in the multiplication of
objects belonging to the department of the Fine Arts. Specimens of
these will indeed always be found among the appendages of wealth
and luxury; but they become peculiarly significant, when, obedient
to the voice of the people, Art, in her noblest forms, joins hand in
hand with History to bear the examples of human greatness down
the pathway of time.  Viewed in the light of local interest only, it
was eminently fitting that the first popular statue erected in Boston
should be that of her own native and illustrious son, the Printerphilosopher, Franklin.  And perhaps it is equally proper that the
second should be that of the great forensic genius of New England,
who made this state and city his chosen home, and whose public
career is so intimately associated with their social and political
history.  But viewed even in this light, or in any light, what other
name can be mentioned for this honor before his, who, living was
declared to be "first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts
of his countrymen;" and to whose memory Death gave an immortal consecration of fame and affection.  [Applause.]
The merit of initiating the present enterprise belongs to the
artists of Boston, who, besides fulfilling the dictates of patriotism,
embrace in their purposes a fraternal tribute to the genius and
worth of a distinguished member of their own profession.  And
as it may be concluded that we have fairly reached the period when
commemorative art in this country shall be in general requisition,
it is also proposed that this statue shall exhibit the resources of our
own State in the production of works of its class.  The artist is a
citizen of Boston; the statue will be modelled here; it will also              4
be cast in bronze at some one of the foundries of Massachusetts, and
it is expected that abundant funds for defraying its cost will flow
from the generosity of our own people.  The general supervision
of the work has been given to a committee appointed by the artists
themselves; but it is the desire of all concerned therein to secure,
as far as practicable, the co6peration of the public in such manner
as may be agreeable to the varying tastes of individuals.  The
committee, however, take the present opportunity to state that it
is proposed to hold a Fair some time in October next, on a scale of 
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liberality, if possible, never excelled in this city, the proceeds of
which will be devoted to this object. And they take pleasure, also,
in saying that the ladies, always the admirers of genius and heroism,
and who are only less -than omnipotent in their undertakings, have
already engaged in this service with an enthusiasm which ensures
success. [Applause.]
It has always been the source of honest pride to her people that
in the catalogue of patriotic States, Massachusetts has held an honorable position, and it is a continued gratification in our time to feel
that when the record of those who have manifested their veneration of the peerless Washington shall be gathered, it will be among
her durable honors that her sons and daughters, among them, him
whom, preeminent in the service, it is needless to name, have been
earnest in securing to posterity the unaltered home of the Father of
his country. [Applause.]
Here also again, in the capitol of the State, surrounded by the
ancient military landmarks, which neither the lapse of time nor the
hand of improvement has quite obliterated, within the sound of artillery from the spot where the Commander-in-chief first drew his
sword in the presence of the continental army, will a new memorial
rise to perpetuate his fame.  And among the cheering auspices of
the undertaking, I find not the least to be the privilege of announcing to you as one of its earliest supporters and advocates, the orator
of this evening; another honored son of Massachusetts, whose ears
I may not offend with the language of personal compliment, and
whose public services and private virtues supersede an introduction
to this audience of his fellow citizens-the HONORABLE ROBERT
C. WINTHROP. 
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ADDRESS.
I WAS not at all surprised, my friends, on my return
home yesterday from a brief Southern tour, to find that
the wars and rumors of wars from abroad, which are
agitating and engrossing the public mind, and the elemental revolutions at home, which precipitated us into
midsummer a few days since only to plunge us back again
so soon into this cold and cheerless spring, should have
somewhat overclouded the prospects and the promise of
this occasion.
But the glorious sunshine which we have enjoyed this
afternoon, the inspiring strains of this charming band of
choristers, and still more the eloquent and excellent remarks of my valued friend who has just introduced me
so kindly, have dissipated all doubts and forebodings, and
have assured me that the cause which I am to plead is
already safe, and that we shall none of us have occasion
to repent that we have "set this Ball in motion."-My
only apprehension is, that the occasion may hardly seem
to call for so grave and formal a discourse, as that which,
according to my promise, I now proceed to deliver.
It would not be easy, I think, to name a more interest 
8
iiig or a more instructive memorial of our Revolutionary
period, than the "Journal of a Voyage to England," with the account of what he saw and heard and did there
in the years 1774 and 1775,-by that eminent and elo quent young Boston patriot,-JOSIAH QUINCY, JR,-who
died, alas, within sight of his native shores on his return
home, just eighty-four years ago on the 26th of April
last, leaving a name which, even had no10 fresh renown
been earned for it in a later generation, could not fail to
have been held in the most grateful renemrbrance, through
all ages of our country's history, by every fiiend of Amer ican liberty.
This journal will be found in the admirable Memoir of
its author, prepared and published in the year 18%'5, by
his early distinguished and now venerable and venerated
son. The Memoir has long been out of print, and copies
of it are not always easily to be procured. But it well
deserves a place in every American library, and it is
greatly to be hoped that a new edition of it may be forthcoming at no distant day firom the same filial hland;a hand still untrembling under the ceaseless industry of
nmore than fourscore years, and never weary of doing
another, and still another, labor of love for his kinsfolk,
his fellow-citizelns, or his country.
One of the most striking passages of this journal is
that which describes an interview between ouri youig
Boston Cicero, as Quincy was deservedly called in those
days, and that distinguished member of Parliament and
friend of America, Col. Barre'.
Among the statesmen of the mother country, during
the early part of our Revolutionary contentions, the name 
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of no one was more familiar or more endeared to our
American  patriots than that of Isaac Barre'.   A  selfmade  man, of humble  Irish parentage, he had served
upon this continent, as an officer of the British army,
before the oppression of the colonies which led to their
separation had comrmenced.   He was with Wolfe, as an
aid-de-camnp, at the capture of Quebec, where he received
a         wound which  was destined to cost him his eyesight before          he  di ed. Some of you may, perhaps, remember a
pleasant  anecdote, which Mr. Webster used to tell with
the highest relish, when he was himself suffering from an
almost blinding catarrh during the season of roses or
of hay,-the story of Lord North, who was afflicted
with total blindness before his death, saying of Col. Barre',
after        he also had become blind,-"Although the worthy
gentleman and I have often been at variance, there are
few        men living who would feel more delighted to see each
other."  Ba re' returned home, however, to become adjutant-general,  govertor of Stirling Castle, and a member
o   f th   e  H ouse of Comrmons.   In this latter capacity he
signalized himself, withini two days after taking his seat,
by a bold and blunt plhilippic upon no less formjidable and
illustrious an opponent than William Pitt, the great Earl
o f        Chatham; and not long afterwards he was among  the
few members of parliament who ventured to resist the
passage  of the Stamp Act,  nalking a powerful and admirable reply on that occasion to (he celebrated Charles
Townsend, the most eloquent of all the advocates of that
ill-starr'd,-if I ought not rather to call it, in view of all
its   fortunate coniisequences,-that auspicious and glorious
measure.           "There has been nothing of note in Pai-lia
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ment, (writes Horace Walpo]e on the 12th of February,
1765,) but one slight day on the American Taxes,which Charles Townsend supporting, received a pretty
heavy thump firom Barre, who is the present Pitt, and
the dread of all the vociferous Norths and Rigbys, on
whose lungs depended so much of Mr. Greniville's power."
This is the speech which has become so familiar to the
declamation of the schools, and which will readily lbe remembered by those striking exclamations and replies,"They planted by your care!  No, your oppressions
planted them in America! They nourished up by your
indulgence! They grew by your neglect of them! They
protected by your arms!  They have nobly taken  up
arms in your defence!"
Barre' was also the first to foretell distinctly the result
of the oppressive measures which he  was so  bold in
opposing.  "I prophesied on the passing of the Stamp
Act in 1765, (said he just four years afterwards.) what
would happen thereon; and now in March, 1769, I fear
I can prophesy further troubles,-that if the whole people are made desperate, finding no remedy from Parliament, the whole continent will be in arms  immediately,
and perhaps these provinces lost to England forever."
So signal, indeed, had been his efforts, on repeated occasions, in favor of the rights and privileges of the Colonies, that the people of Boston, at a town meeting in
1765,-at which James Otis presided and Samuel Adams
was present and took part in the proceedings,-not only
voted an address of thanks to Col. Barre' and Gen. Conway, but ordered that the portraits of both those gentlemen, as soon as they could be procured, should be sus
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pended in Faneuil Hall, " as a standing monument to all
posterity of the virtue and justice of our benefactors, and
a lasting proof of our owii gratitude." That was among
the earliest formal and( public applications of the Fine
Arts to historical moinuments inl our New England annals.
And the order was duly and honorably executed.  At the
Boston townI meeting of May 8, 1767, only a few days
more than ninety-two years ago, a letter was directed to
be written to Col. Barre'., announcing that his picture had
been received and placed in Faneuil Hall. That of Gen.
Conway was also procured about the same time; but I
am sorry to add that both these portraits, together with
others, perhaps, of even greater artistic value, disappeared
during the occupancy of the town by the British army in
1775-6, both of them having been either destroyed or
carried away.
Bare' is said to have been the first person who gave to
our Boston rebels the cherished title of' Sons of Liberty.'
And, as aii evidence of the estimation in which he was
held in Massachusetts as late as 1771, I may remind you
that a niioble agricuiltural town in the heart of the Commotwealth was called by his name, which it still bears
the odious name of IHutchiison having been repudiated
to make way for it. And though Col. Barre' did not
continue to sustain our cause,-as he could hardly have
been expected to do,-after we were once at open war
with his own land; although he was even betrayed into
a vote for that abominable measure, the Boston Port
Bill; I cannot help thinking that it would still be a most
agreeable solve,)ir of those early services to American
liberty, if the comnpletion of a full century from the dlate
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when it was first placed there, should find that same portrait of himn, (by Sir Joshua Reynolds I dare say,) if it
could anyhow be recovered, once  more hanging  on the
walls of old Ftneuil Hall, side  by side with that of
Quincy himnself, which ought certainly to be there, also.
There will be time enough, however, for Boston  folkls,
who are proverbially full of notions, to think about this,
between now and the 8th of May,  1867.   Meanwhile,
having refreshed your mnemories with a brief account of
the career and( character of this young Irish friend of
American freedom let me turn to the interview between
him and our patriot Quincy, as described in the journal
to which I have already refeirre(l.
That interview took place on the 2d day of January, 1775, at Bath, well known, at that period and since,
as one of the most fashionable watering-places of England,
and it is thus introdluced by the spirited young journalist
-" January ~d. Was visited by Hon. Mr. Temple, who
spent an hour with me.  Went again over Bath, in order
to review the buildings.   Spent the afternoon with Mrs.
Macaulay,' and went in the evening to a ball at the new
rooms, which  was full and very splendid.   The rooms
are very elegant, and the ptinitiiigs which cover the windows,-takenii fromnt the draulghts of the figures found at
the  ruins of Ilerculaneutn,-have  a fine effect.   This
evening, (he atlds,) I had two hours' conversation with
Col. BariIt, atiid from him I learned that he was once the
1 She was the accomplished lady whose History of England was hardly
less celebrat(ed in those days than that of her distinguished namesake in
these, having been pronounced both by Horace WValpole and by the poet
Gray, as "the most sensible, unaflected, and best history of England
that wve hlave had yet," although Hume's had been published long before.
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friend of Mr. Hutchinson in opposition to Gov. Powuall,
but that he had for a long time, and especially since his
last arrival in England, wholly deserted him."
In the course of this conversation, Col. Barre' made
the following remarks:  "About fifteen years ago, I
was through a considerable part of your country;-for in
the expedition against Canada, my business called me
to pass by land through Pennsylvania, New Jersey,
New  York,  and Albany.    When  I returned to this
country, I was often speaking of America, and could -
not help speaking well of its climate, soil, and inhabitants;-for you must know, Sir, America was always a
favorite with me;-but will you believe it, Sir,-yet I
assure you it is true,-more than two thirds of this
island at that time, thought the Amnericalns were negroes!"-" I replied," says Quincy, "that I did not in
the least doubt of it,-for that if I was to judge by the
late acts of Parliament, I should suppose that a majority
of the people of Great Britain still thought so;-for I
found that their representatives still treated them as
such."  " He smile(l, (continues the Journal,) and the discourse dropped;" but Quincy quietly a(lds, as an intimuation that the point of his own reply had not been linperceived,-"Col. Barre was among those who voted for the
Boston Port Bill."
Few things could more strikingly illustrate the ignorance which prevailed in the mother country, at that
critical period, in regard to those Colonies which she was
so blindly and madly goading on to rebellion, than this
little dialogue;-but  interesting as it is in itself, and
instructive as it would be to dwell uponII it longer, it is 
not tile part of the interview between Barre' and Quincy
which I have taken as the text and topic of this Address,
and to which I now hasten to proceed, without further
preamble.
"Col. Barre'," says Quincy, while we were viewing the
pictures taken from the ruins found at Herculaneum,
said, "I hope you have not the books  containinig the
draughts of those ruins with you." I replied, "There was
one set, I believed, ill the public library at our College."
"Keep) them there," said he, "and they may be of some
service as a matter of curiosity for the speculative, but
let them get abroad and you are ruined.'Tis taste that
ruins whole kingdoms;'tis taste that depopulates whole
nations; I could not help weeping when I surveyed the
ruins of Rome. All the remains of Roman grandeur
are of works which were finished when Ronme and the
spirit of Rome were no mnore,-unless I except the
ruins of the Emilian  baths.   Mr.  Quincy, let your
countrymen beware of taste in their buildings, equipage,
and (Iress, as a deadly poison."
If this solemn and emphatic warning, to which the
youthful Quincy seems to have made no reply, but which
he considered worthy of being recorded at length in his
private diary,-a warning which some of us, perhaps,
might be almost invidious enough to intimate had been
literally interpreted and( practically followed from that day
to this, so very little of anything worthy of being called
taste has yet been exhibited among us;-if this solemn
and emphatic warning had come from some sober moralist, or some grave minister of the Gospel, it might have
been regarded only as an amplification or paraphrase of
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one of those general injunctions against vanity and worldliness which abound oII the pages of Holy Writ, and we
should have listened to it, or read it, as we read or listen
to that memorable text, for example, of one of the Epistles
of St. John-" For all that is in the world, the lust of the
flesh, and the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, is not
of the Father but is of the world. And the world
passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the
will of God abideth forever." But here was an experienced and enlightened Statesman, in the maturity of his
parliamentary renown, whose vigor of intellect and force
of character and felicity of style have ranked him among
the few by whom even the brilliant and mysterious Letters of Junius might have been written, and to whom
those letters have sometimes been ascribed,-a man who
ha(l seen the world, and was deeply read in the history of
the world, and had no distaste for the pomps and vanities
of the world,-a lover of Liberty, too, and an earnest
sympathizer with Young America in that cause of freedom, for which she was girding herself so heroically to
contend even unto the death;-and it was from the lips
of this man, in no spirit of religious bigotry or of moral
primness and punctiliousness, but on broad, philosophical,
and political grounds, that the warning has come down
to us againtist cultivating and indulging a taste-an extravagant and licentious taste-inot merely for equipage
and furniture and dress, but for buildings and sculpture
and the Fine Arts.
Such a warning, I need hardly say, was not original
with Col. Barre'. So far at least as it may be construed
into a protest against luxury in general, as unworthy of 
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being countenanced by a firee and enlightened people, and
as leading to the decay and downfall of Liberty, it may
be found on the pages of a thousand historians and
poets and moralists of every age  aind land.  Gibbon,
indeed, who had gazed on the remains of the Eternal
City with an agitation not less vivid than his parliamentary compeer,-for Gibbon once sat in the House of
Commons by the si(le of Col. Barre,-Gibbon, who
traced the original idea of his great "History of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" to the emotions
excited by a company of barefooted friars singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter, while he sat musing amidst
the ruins of the Capitol,-Gib)bon appears to have found
some compensation for tile evils of this sort of extravagance in the suggestion, that "in the present imperfect
condition of society, luxury, though it may proceed from
vice and folly, seems to be the only means that can correct the unequal distribution of property."   Huine, too,
with the ingenuity and acuteness which characterize so
many of his celebrated Essays, draws a careful distinction
between those luxurious indulgences which "are pursued
at the expense of some virtue, as liberality or charity,"
and those which "entrench upon no virtue, leaving an
ample surplus whence to provide for fiiends, family, and
every proper object of generosity or compassion;" and he
would seem to imply, that from  this latter sort of indulgence there was no danger to be apprehended either to
individuals or to nations. And Dr. Johnson, in a spirit
of combative dissent from those who conversed with him,
and with a singularity which can hardly be reconciled
with his ordinary good sense,-while he expressed a
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strong and strange contempt for everything like ornamental architecture, and severely ridiculed and satirized
sculpture in particular, yet declared with more than his
ordinary dogmatism to Sir Adam Ferguson, who had
suggested that luxury corrupts a people and destroys the
spirit of liberty,-" Sir, that is all visionary; "-adding
emphatically, in a conversation with Goldsmith, on another occasion afterwards,-" No nation was ever hurt by
luxury." But Goldsmith himself, however he may have
been silenced and confounded for the moment, was, as we
all know, by no means convinced by the dogmatic moralist; and no one has left a more earnest and unequivocal
testimony on the subject, than may be found in those
well-remembered and  exquisite lines of the "Deserted
Village ":
"Ye friends to truth, ye Statesmen, who survey
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay,
'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand
Between a splendid and a happy land.
Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore,
And shouting Folly hails them from her shore;
Hoards e'en beyond the miser's wish abound,
And rich men flock from all the world around.
Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name
That leaves our useful product still the same.
Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor supply'd;
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds,
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds;
The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth
Has robb'd the neighb'ring fields of half their growth;
His seat, where solitary sports are seen,
Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;
Around the world each needful product flies,
For all the luxuries the world supplies;
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While thus the land, ad(orn'd for pleasures all,
In barren splendour feebly waits the fall.
As some fair female, unadorn'd and plain,
Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,
Slights every borrow'd charm that dress supplies,
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes;          But when those charms are past, for charms are frail,
When time advances, and when lovers fail,
She then shines forth, solicitous to bless,
In all the glaring impotence of dress;          Thus fares the land, by luxury betray'd,
In Nature's simplest charms at first array'd;
But verging to decline, its splendours rise,
Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;
While, scourg'd by famine, from the smiling land
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;
And while he sinks, without one arm to save,
The country blooms-a garden and a grave!"
And nearly eighteen hundred years before Goldsmith,
the inimitable satirist of antiquity (Juvenal) had condensed tile whole idea into two noble lines, for which our
circunmlocutory language can supply no adequate translation,-when he represented and personified Luxury, more
ruthless than War itself, brooding over Rome, revelling
in her streets, and wreaking a relentless vengeance for a
conquered world:
" Saevior armis,
Luxuria incubuit, victumque ulciscitur orbem."
But there is something in the time, place, and circumstances of the dialogue between Quincy and Barre', which
give it a peculiar impressiveness for every American
heart,-imparting to it an interest far different from any,
and far deeper than any, which could be inspired by the
most brilliant flights and figures of mere poetry, whether
ancient or modern, and challenging for it the gravest and 
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most serious consideration.   And at this precise moment
of our history, especially, when Luxury has made such
unmistakable inroads upon the old simplicities of our indoor and of our out-door life; when its flaunting manifestations confront us at every corner of the streets of our
large cities, and even of some of our smaller towns and
villages; vwhen Vice and Crime, and political degeneracy,
and personal profligacy, too, in so many fearful forms,
seem  to be following and accompanying its track; and
when, at length, a sweeping financial crisis has so recently
summoned us all to a reluctant pause in our career of
profuse and reckless expenditure; at this precise moment of our history. it may be wholesome as well as interesting to ponder a little upon so remarkable an utterance,-accepting and laying to heart so much of it as is
just and reasonable, and not omitting, at the same time,
to recognize such discriminiiati6ots and distinctions, as may
spare us from being called on to proscribe all encouragement and patronage of the Fine Arts, as incompatible
with the purity of our social life, and dangerous to the
security of our Republican Liberty.
I do not propose, in pursuing this subject on tile present occasion, my friends, to occupy any considerable part
of my time in trite severities or easy sarcasms upon the
particular manifestations which have marked the advances
of luxury in our country  of late years.   There have
beei attacks enough, certainly, and more than eniiough,
upon our sister sex, for the costly material or the swelling proportions of modern female costume.   I shall enter
into no criticisms  upon their laces and jewelry, their
basques and bodices, their cashmeres or crinoline, their 
gossamer expansions "or patent adjustables ";-nor will I
even venture upon the discussion whether a better balance might not be struck in the book of beauty, if a little
less of whatever  material they may wear should be employed in encumbering the lower half of their forms. and
a little more  in covering  the upper  half.   Talleyrand
once wittily said of womtnen's dress in his own time
and land, that "it began  too late and ended too soon."
The latter fault has certainly disappeared at the behest of
modern milliners, and our streets and crossing stones are
daily and hourly swept by many more than those who are
hired to keep them clean. There is, after all, nothing
new in the fashions and follies of modern female attire,
and nothing new can be said about them. Milton por
trayed them all in that memorable description of the
treacherous wife of Samson, as he introduced her to the
chorus of the Danites in his magnificent drama of The
Agoiiistes, and one might almost imagine that he was
prefiguring the advent of some Broadway or Washington
Street or Beacon Street belle of the present day:
"But who is this, what thing of sea or land?
Female of sex it seems,
That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay,
Comes this way sailing
Like a stately ship
Of Tarsus, bound for the isles
Of Javan or Gadire,
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,
Sails filled, and streamers waving,
Courted by all the winds that hold them play,            An amber scent of odorous perfume
Her harbinger, a damsel train behind;
Some rich Philistian matron she may seem,
And now at nearer view, no other certain
Than Dalila thy wife."
11?O 
And even the idea, which is so much harped on of late,
that woman is responsible for draining the country of its
wealth, and robbing domestic industry of its rightful remuneration, by indulging so inordinately in foreign fashioIns and imported finery, is almost as old as the Christian
era.  It was in the year of our Lord o2, a great ancient
historian informs us, that luxury had reached such a
pitch in Rome, that the iE(iles complained to the Senate,
and the Senate laid the subject before the Emperor Tiberius, and called for his special and sovereign intervention.
It was before Tiberius had indulged in those corrupting
excesses at Caprea, which have associated his name with
eternal infamy, and while he wvas still "addicted (as the
historian tells us) to the frugality of ancient  manners."
The Emperor addressed a special and serious communication to the Senate on the subject, which gives us an
edifying insight into the fashions of those days:   If a reform is in truth intended," says he, " where
must it begin? and how am I to restore the simplicity of
ancient times?   Must I abridge your villas, those vast
domains, where whole tracts of land are laid out for ornament?  Must I retrench the number of slaves, so great
at present, that every family seems a nation in itself?
What shall be said of massy heaps of gold and silver! of
statues wrought in brass, and an infinite collection of pictures, all indeed highly finished, tlhe perfection of art!How shall we reform the taste for dress, which, according
to the reigning fashion, is so exquisitely nice, that the sexes
are scarce distinguished? How are we to deal with the
peculiar articles of female vanity, and, in particular, with
that rage for jewels and precious trinkets, which drains
!2] 
the Empire of its wealth, and sends, in exchange for bcavw bles, the money of the Comnmo,zvealth to foreign nations,
and even to the enemies of Rome?"-He  concludes by
the prudent and excellent suggestion, thalt sumptuary laws
will not answer the purpose, that each individual must be
a law unto himself, that men of rank must be restrained
by principle, the poor by indigence, and the rich, if in no
other way, by satiety. The whole subject was accord ingly dismissed for the time, andl the Roman ladies continued to wear what they pleased.*
And so, doubtless, will the American ladies continue
to wear what they please, in spite of anyr reproaches or
ridicule, any gibes or sneers, which may be cast upon
them from any source. Yet American ladies are as
open to the appeals of reason, of justice, and of patriotism,
as those who aspire to be considered as their rightful lords
and masters.   Let them once be convinced that the cause
of virtue, of good morals, and of freedom, delnands of
them any sacrifice of show or of substance, any abatement of expenditure, any abandonment  of display, any
self-denial or self-devotion whatever, and they will be the
last to shrink from such an appeal.   If any one doubts
this, let him recall the sacrifices of our Pilgrim Mothers
and of our Patriot Mothers, as recorded on the pages of
our Colonial and Revolutioniary history. Let him read
afresh the story of that noble North Carolina landlady,
Mrs. Elizabeth Steele, who, as Irving tells us in his admrirable "Life of Washington," when  the gallant Greene
was resting atnd refreshing himself at her Innt, on his way
to Guilford Court-house in 1781, "fatigued, hungry, alone,
* Tac. Ann. 3 Lib. ch. 51-53.
-0 e 
and penniless," no10 sooner overheard his desponding words,
than she entered the room where he was sitting, closed
the door, and, drawing from under her apron two bags of
monley which she had carefully hoarded, said, most nobly:
"Take these, you will want them, and  I can do without
them."
Let him read afresh that pledge which the young ladies
of Mecklenburg and Rowan, in the same old North State,
are said to have entered into in the year 1780, not to
receive the attentions of young men who would not
v.lunteer in defence of the country,-" being of opinion,
(as the pledge reads,) that such persons as stay loitering
at home, when the important calls of country demand
their military services abroad, must certainly be destitute
of that nobleness of sentiment, that brave and manly
spirit, which would qualify them to be the defenders and
guardians of the fair sex."
Let him recall that charming incident of the ball
giveni to Lafayette in the City of Baltimore, as he was
passing along to the field of his Southern conflicts, and
when to the question of one of the Baltimore belles of
the Revolutionary period —" Why so gloomy at a. ball,
Marquis? "-he replied, "I cannot enjoy the gayety of
the scene while so many of the poor soldiers are without
garments to keep them warm."-" We will supply them,"
was the noble reply of the ladies, and lo-instead of a
hundred twinkling feet on a ball-room floor, a hundred
twinkling fingers of devoted wives and daughters are plying their needles, night and day, in making up the materials furnished by patriot husbands and fathers,-one lady
cutting out with her own hands no less than five hundred
28 
pairs of pantaloons, and  superintending the making of
them for the poor soldiers.
Let him read afresh the account of that memorable
association of ladies in Philadelphia, for the relief of the
poor soldiers in 1780, under  the lead and direction of
Esther De Berdt, (then the wife of Gen. Joseph Reed,)
and of Sarah Franklinii, (the daughter of our illustrious
Bostonian, then Mrs. Bache,) who, having bought the
linen with their pin-mioney, cut out and made, with their
own hands, no less than twenty-two hundred shirts, marking each one of them with the name of the married or
unmarried lady who had worked upon it, and then threw
their trinkets and jewelry  into  the  common treasury
besides.
Let him read afresh such a memorandum as Mr.
Jefferson has furnished us, of the contributions of females
in Virginia in aid of the War of Independence:
"Mrs. Sarah Cary of Scotchtown, a watchchain, cost
~7 sterling.
Mrs. -         Ambler, five gold rings.
Mrs. Rebecca Ambler, three gold rings.
Mrs. Nicholas, a diamond drop."
Ah! if the secret history of those little rings and
ornaments, of those precious souvenirs and trinkets and
love-tokens, could have been copied from the hearts of
those who contributed them, into records which the world
might read, we should see how muchi woman can forget,
how much woman can forego, when the perils of her
Country call upon her for some signal act of self-sacrifice and self-devotion.   Yes, when the men of America
shall be as ready to give up their own follies and fopperies
24, 
and extravagances and vices, as some of them are to
rebuke and ridicule their wives and daughters, we may
look for a social reformation which shall leave nothing
to be desired for purity, and nothing to be feared for
Liberty.
But I leave all further discussion of this point for
some more convenient season.
Nor do I propose to spend much of my rapidly flying
hour this evening, in any vague generalities or obvious
commonplaces on the danger to freedom which is involved in what is commonly understood by luxurious indulgence. The whole argument upon this point may be
summed up, as it seems to me, in two brief and simple
propositions: —
1. True Liberty can only be maintained by a moral
and virtuous people.  One of the great elemental ideas
of freedom is Self-Government. This self-government
is partly to be exercised by rulers elected by the people
and agreeably to Constitutions and Laws established and
enacted by themselves or their representatives;-but  it
is to be exercised partly, and in great part, let me say,
by their own individual restraint and control of their own
passions and their own wills. Individual self-discipline,
the government of each one of us over ourselves, constitutes the largest part of the full idea of that self-goverinment which is so often employed as the very synonyme of
freedom. And whatever corrupts and debases the individual man, lowering his standard of integrity, dethroning the vicegerent of God within his breast, and substituting ease and indolence and pleasure and profligacy
for the aimtns and ends and obligations which are alone
4
25
I 
26
worthy of a rational and responsible being, is by its very
nature hostile to true freedom.   It incapacitates men for
the enjoyment of freedom.  It incapacitates them for the
discharge of those duties which are essential to the existence of freedom.   There  must  be government  somewhere, within us or without us.  And just so far as individual, internal self-government is abandoned, just so far
an external, political restraint and compulsion must be
substituted and must be endured.   Individual indulgences,
individual vices, individual crimes,-these are what occasion the necessity for prohibitions and penalties, for punishments, prisons, and scaffolds; and when the moral
sense and moral condition of the men and women composing a whole community has become thoroughly infected and depraved, tyranny must soon come in, in some
form or other, and by some means or other, to enforce
that degree of subordination to authority, that measure
of obedience to law, which is vital to the existence of
every organized society.  It is not written in the book of
history, it is not written in the nature of man, it is not
written in the will of God, that an immnoral and vicious
and dissolute people can ever remain a free people. There
is no such thing as the permanent separation, in any such
sense as this,-if, indeed, in any sense,-of morality and
politics;-and no glorifications of Liberty, however boastful or however defiant, can preserve any people from those
chains and fetters, which immorality and vice will gradually weave and weld upon their limbs.  Edmund Burke
expressed the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, on
this point, in that inimitable passage from one of his most
celebrated letters, which cannot too often be recalled and
repeated: 
"Men are qualified for civil liberty in exact proportion
to their disposition to put moral chains upon their own
appetites; in proportion as their love to justice is above
their rapacity; in proportion as they are more disposed
to listen to the counsels of the wise and good, in preference to the flattery of knaves.  Society cannot exist unless
a controlling power upon will and appetite be placed
somewhere, and the less of it there is within, the more
there must be without.  It is ordained in the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds cannot
be free.  Their passions forge their fetters."
2. But there is a physical view, too, which may serve
for the second proposition, to which I referred.   True
Liberty can only be maintained by a manly and muscular
people.  "Who would be free," the poet tells us, "themselves must strike the blow." And whoever would maintain freedom must be able to strike a second and a third
blow in its defence, as hard and as effective as the first by
which it was achieved; and must keep themselves in a
condition to do so, whenever summoned to the struggle.
And whatever impairs the vigor, enfeebles the nerve,
dwarfs and dwindles the stature and proportions, undermines the health and heartiness of a people, melting down
their manhood and their womanhood into mere courtesy
and compliment, and frittering away their energies upon
mere form and show and ceremony, until, like the masses
of Rome in its degenerate days, they care only for two
things,-panem et Circenses,-food and festivals, eating
and enjoyment;-whatever tends to produce such enervating and emasculating results as these upon a population, does just so much to prepare them for falling an
27 
easy prey to any form of oppression or of tyranny which
may approach them, either from abroad or from among
themselves. This is the physical view.
Now it would be the merest waste of time and of
words to frame elaborate periods in order to prove, that
what is generally understood by luxurious living is to be
condemned on both these grounds,-that it wars at once
against mind and body, engendering those diseases and
weaknesses, alike physical and moral, which are incom patible with a strenuous assertion or a successful mainten ance or defence of freedom. No man or woman would
for an instant dispute the doctrine in the abstract, however reluctant they might be to admit that their own individual and personal indulgence, in this or that particular
luxurious habit, could have a tendency towards producing
so grave and serious a mischief. We all know, however,
that a nation is but an aggregate of individuals, as the
ocean is but an aggregate of drops, and that no one can
so live unto himself, as to escape his proportionate share
of responsibility for the character and composition of the
whole.
It is not, then, only a momentary pecuniary pressure
or financial revulsion, nor is it only a consideration of
permanent religious or moral obligation, which may well
lead us all to abate something of our fancy for the pride
and pomp and vanity of the world, and to put a seasoniable curb upon our appetite for luxurious living, but
patriotism, a love of country, a love of liberty, call upon
us, in almost the very words of Barre' to Quincy in 1775,
to beware, to beware, not indeed, of a true and refined
taste, but of that meretricious and extravagant taste for
28 
equipage and furniture and dress, for balls and ballets and
banquets and voluptuous excesses of all sorts, which is a
deadly poison to Freedom.
It was in this spirit that John Adams, in that noble
clause of our own Massachusetts State Constitution, which,
in the Convention of 18-0, he boasted of having written
carefully with his own hand, included frugality, together with industry and benevolence and public and
private charity,, among the virtues which it was made
the duty of legislatures and magistrates, in all future
periods of the commonwealth, to countenance and inculcate.
And in this spirit, too, a greater even than John
Adamns, the immortal Father of his country himself, prepared the following paragraph for his Farewell Address,
which though not ultimately retained by his advisers, and
therefore not familiar even to those who reverence that
document most deeply, has been fortunately preserved in
the original draft, as given by him to Mr. Claypoole, the
Philadelphia printer, and as beautifully printed at the expense of its present munificent owner, Mr. James Lenox,
of New York:  "Cultivate industry and  frugality, as auxiliaries to
good morals and sources of private and public prosperity.
Is there not room to regret that our propensity to expense exceeds our means for it.   Is there not more
luxury among us, and more diffusively, than suits the
actual stage of our national progress. Whatever may
be the apology for luxury in a country, mature in the
arts which are its ministers and the cause of national
opulence, can it promote the advantage of a young coun
29 
80
try, almost wholly agricultural, in the infancy of the arts,
and certainly not in the maturity of wealth? "
Suchl were the reflections which weighed on the heart
of Washington sixty years ago, before the world had be gun to go by steam, and when fast men and fast women
were as rare as slow ones are now. What new emphasis
would he not have given to the warning, could he have
witnessed the social state of America, and especially of
"young America," at the present day!  Would he not
have welcomed even worse reverses and calamities than
any which have visited us of late years, if nothing else
could seasonably arouse us to the dangers of a corrupting and cankering luxury?
Aud now, my friends, having thus given in my unequivocal adhesion to the doctrines involved in these
memorable warnings which have come down to us from
the distant and the dead, from the great and good of
other countries as well as of our own, so far at least as
they are aimed at what may fairly be included in the idea
of extravagant and luxurious living, I turn to a brief considerationl of the question, whether everything like a taste
for the Fine Arts is to fall under the general ban which
that eloquent British statesman and ardent friend to
America, in his dialogue with Quincy, would seem to
have pronounced upon it, and whether architecture and
sculpture and painting are, indeed, to be altogether proscribed as poisonous to liberty?
Must we, in order to save our free institutions from
overthrow, fall back upon the old laws of Lycurgus, that
"the ceilings of our houses shall be wrought with no
tool but the axe, and the doors shaped with nothing but 
81
the saw?."   Must our teeming quarries be sealed up
against the chisel of the sculptor, and no counterfeit presentment of the beauties of nature or the conceptions of
genius ever be permitted to glow upon the canvas, and
to greet us from the walls of our public buildings or of
our private dwellings? Are our infant galleries of art
to be closed up and abated as schools of immorality and
nurseries of corruption?  Are  Phidias and  Praxiteles,
Michael Angelo and Raphael, and our own Allston and
Crawford, and Trumbull and Stuart, and Cole and Hor:tio Greenough,-not  to venture  upon  any selection
among so many living names,-to be classed henceforth
among the conspirators against republican liberty? Must
we even hide away, in the most secret crypts of our college libraries, the drawings of the ancient ruins of Herculaneum or Pompeii, of Athens or of Rome, so that while
they may be of some service, "as a matter of curiosity to
the speculative," they may not get abroad and bring upon
ourselves a like destruction to that which they so powerfully depict? This, you remember, was Col. Barre"'s
idea; and, extravagant as it may seem, it may furnish
us a theme for a few wholesome reflections.
Beyond all doubt, a taste for the Fine Arts is one o
the most expensive tastes in which an individual or a
community can indulge, and we should never lose sight
of the idea that it may easily be encouraged to an extent
which may bring the wealthiest among us to bankruptcy
and beggary. This is a danger of abuse and excess; but
it should not be forgotten by artists, when they are disappointed in obtaining orders for expensive works.
Beyond a doubt, too, painting and sculpture may be 
82
degraded to the service of ministering to the merest personal pride and vanity,-a service alike injurious to their
own advancement and to the manliness and moral health
of a community.   "I entirely agree with you," wrote
Edmund Burke to an eminent member of the Royal
Academy, "that the rage of the inhabitants of this country
for having their phizes perpetuated, whether they are
worthy of it or not, is one great obstacle to the advancement of art; because it makes that branch more profitable than any other, and therefore makes many men of
great talents consider it as the ultimate object of their
art, instead of the means of that object." What would
Burke have said "of the rage of the inhabitants for having their phizes perpetuated, whether they are worthy of
it or not," if he had lived in our land and in this age,
when to the temptation of painting and sculpture, of
crayon, engraving, and lithography, is added that of chrystallotypes and ambrotypes, and even of twenty-five cent
and ten cent daguerreotypes,-and when, too, it seems to
depend on the caprice of artists and publishers, or, perhaps, on the pecuniary facility of the subjects themselves,
who shall be included among the champions of Freedom,
or who shall find places in the gallery of Illustrious
Statesmen!
But this is but a trivial abuse compared with others to
which the Fine Arts are peculiarly and proverbially liable.
We all know that they may be, and often have been,
prostituted to the most corrupting and licentious purposes. And I cannot omit the opportunity of entering
my humble but earnest protest against their too common
employment in pandering to the depraved and prurient
I 
88
appetites of vulgar and vicious minds. Away with the
old maxim which is so often quoted to palliate the grossest indecency-" Evil be to him who evil thinks." That
maxim may be allowed to retain its historical place
as the motto of the Order of the Garter; and was well
enough to cover the embarassment and confusion arising
out of the ludicrous accident which is sometimes said to
have given occasion to the original institution of that
"most noble order."  You all have heard the story.  It
is said that the Countess of Salisbury, at a Court ball,
happening to drop her garter, King Edward III. took it
up and presented it to her with these words: Honi soit
qui rmalypense.-But the maxim of modern civilization
and refinement and Ciiristianity should rather be-Evil
be to him that evil does;-whether he does it by word
or act, by lip or hand, by pen, pencil, chisel, brush  or
burin.  The day has almost gone  by, I trust, for the
multiplication of indecent and lascivious pictures.   We
may endure them, and even sometimes admire them
against our moral sense, on the cracked canvas or in
the crumbling marble of an old master. Such productions peculiarly befitted the dark idolatries and corrupt
obscenities of other ages. But the Artist, and more
especially the American Artist, who, in this nineteenth
century, in this age of Christianity and civilization, call
find nothing more worthy of his genius than such exhibitions and exposures, may think himself well off if he
meets with no sterner rebuke than that his productions
should attract neither praise nor purchasers, and should
be left to remain a drug-a poisonous drug-upon his
own polluted hands. I know it is not always easy to fix
5 
the precise vanishing point, if I may so speak, at which
delicacy ends and indelicacy begins. I do not forget
how readily the cry of primness and prudery is raised
against any scruples of the sort.  And I am  aware how
eagerly some of the amateurs and connoisseurs in art
cling to its ancient prerogative of dealing in what they
softly style the nude. And some of them might be
pardoned for discarding all dress and drapery in their
designs, since they have proved themselves such miserable mantuamakers and such abominable tailors. But
rarely upon any other ground.
We often hear it said, indeed, that "Art must be true
to Nature." And so it must be. But it must be true
to something else besides Nature,  It must be true to
virtue and freedom, true to purity and patriotism, true to
morals and to religion, or it will cease to be worthy of
the patronage  of Christian  freemen.   What  has  not
Religion done for art! What has ever inspired such
exquisite delineations, such sublime conceptions, such
enchanting portraitures, such grand and glorious groupings, such glowing and gorgeous colorings, as the scenes
of the Bible, wrought out in faith and reverence, to decorate the shrines and altars of the cathedrals and chapels
of other ages and  other lands?   How much of their
inexpressible richness and radiance would have been lost
to those glorious works of the old masters, which have
received the homage of centuries, and which we all make
pilgrimages over land and sea to enjoy a single sight of,how much of their richness and radiance would have been
lost, had not a devout faith in God and in Christ, not only
furnished the theme, but prepared the pallet, directed the
84 
85
brush, and dipped it in the very hues of heaven! Let
Art, in all its departments, architecture, sculpture, and
painting alike, never fail to recognize and acknowledge
its obligations to Religion; and if simpler forms of worship, in later days and in our own land, afford less scope
for its employment oil religious themes, let it, at least,
abstain from doing despite to its earliest and noblest
source of inspiration, by ministering to irreligion and
vice, and by employing a divine faculty on that which is
not only earthly, but "sensual and devilish."  Art can be
true to nature, and true to itself, without groping in the
chambers of imagery to bring forth whatever is most
offensive and unclean; and the artist who, in these days,
presumes upon his genius to violate the decencies of
society, and who thinks to make delicacy of outline or
brilliancy of coloring atone for the want of decency of
design, deserves the hoot of every true friend to freedom
and to virtue,-such a hoot and such a hue and cry, as
recently and most deservedly followed those publishers
and sellers of indecent prints and engravings in the city
of New York. This is, indeed, the sort of art which, in
the words of Barre' to Quincy, is poisonous to freedom,
and it may be that those drawings of Herculaneum were
not altogether exempt from the censure.
But I turn, my friends, to the closing, and yet the
principal thoughts of this Address.   I turn  to a brief
consideration of the question, whether our own land and
our own condition of society do not afford ample opportunity for the enjoyment and encouragement of the Fine
Arts, without danger to Liberty, and without just liability to the charge of furthering and fostering a periiicious and poisonous luxury. 
86
And  I know not how  I can so well commence my
reply to this question as by quoting for your instruction
and admiration a few of the emphatic and noble sentences
of the great orator of Ancient Greece,-the greatest
orator of the world:   "Mark, O Athenians," said Demostlhenes in his third
Olynthiac,-" Mark, O  Athenians, what a summary contrast may be drawn between the doings in our olden
time and in yours.  It is a tale brief and familiar to all;
for the examples by which you may still be happy are
found not abroad, men of Athens, but at home. Our
forefathers, whom the speakers humored not nor caressed,
as these men caress you, for five and forty years took the
leadership of the Greeks by general consent, and brought
above ten thousand talents into the citadel; and the king
of this country was submissive to them, as a barbarian
should be to Greeks; and many glorious trophies they
erected for victories won by their own fighting on land
and sea, and they are the sole people in the world who
have bequeathed a renown superior to envy.   Such were
their merits in the affairs of Greece: See what they
were at home, both as citizens andl as men.  Their public
edifices and ornaments of such beauty and grandeur, in
temples and consecrated furniture, that posterity have no
power to surpass then.  In private they were so modest
and attached to the principles of our Constitution, that
whoever knows the style of house which Aristides had,
or Miltiades and the illustrious of that day, perceives it
to be no grander thanii those of their neigllbors.  Their
politics were not for money-making; each felt it his duty
to exalt the Commonwealth.   By a conduct honorable
I/
.-i 
87
towards the Greeks, pious to the gods, brotherlike among
themselves, they justly attained a high prosperity."
Listen to this preeminent orator of antiquity once more,
while he unfolds with even more distinctness this noble
discrimination, which seems to have been a favorite theme
with him, between public magnificence and private moderation and frugality.  He is discoursing on the regulation of the State, and has just been declaiming with great
boldness and severity against the degeneracy of the Athenians of his day, as compared  with their fathers and
ancestors.
"The edifices they have left to us," said he, "their
decorations of our city, of our temples, of our harbors, of
all our public structures, are so numerous and so magnificent, that their successors can make no10 addition. Look
around you," he exclaimed, "to their vestibules, their arsenals, their porticos, and all those honors of our city which
they transmitted to us."   (And remember that he was
standing on the Bema in the Pnyx, from which the Propylea, and the Parthenon, and so many of the exquisite
and inimitable temples of Athens, could all be taken in at
a glance.)  "Look around you," said he, " at these magnificent structures!  Yet were the private habitations of
the men of eminence ill those times, so moderate, so consonant to that equality, the characteristic of our constitution, that if any of you knows the house of Themistocles,
of Cimon, of Aristides, of Miltiades, or of any of these
illustrious personages, he knows that it is not distinguished by the least mark of grandeur. But now, ye
men of Athens, as to public works the State is satisfied,
if roads be repaired, if water be supplied, if walls be whi 
88
tened, if any trifle be provided. Not that I blame those
who have executed such works. No! I blame you who
can think so mneanly as to be satisfied with such firuits of
their administration.   Then, in private life, of the men
who have conducted our affairs, some have built houses
not only more magnificent than those of other citizens,
but superior to our public edifices; others have purchased
and improved an extent of land greater than all their
dreams of riches ever presented to their fancies."
In this forcible and most felicitous contrast, between
private simplicity and moderation and public magnificence and splendor, we may find the very clue and passkey to a policy, which marked the earlier and better
periods of ancient Greece, and which may reconcile, in
our own day, and in our own land, the highest and most
effective encouragement of the Fine Arts, in all their
departments, with entire immunity and safety to morality
and freedom.
It is only in their unworthy ministrations to private
vanity and voluptuousness, that painting and sculpture
and architecture are dangerous to liberty and destructive
to virtue.  It is only in garnishing and furbishing the
mansions of pride and ostentation, of ambition and arrogance, that they too often become responsible for a wasteful and ridiculous excess of expenditure, and too often
engender a licentious luxuriousness of living, which are at
war with all the just simplicities anal equalities of republican society.   I would not forbid or discourage, indeed,
the modest portrait or the classic bust of the loved and the
lost, or even of the honored and the living, which are the
precious decorations of so many of our parlors and libra
-i 
89
ries. I would not banish from the private habitations of
such as can afford them, the glowing landscape or the
fragrant flower-piece, the tasteful Parian or the enduring
bronze. My precept would be strangely at variance with
my practice, were I to advocate or even intimate such an
idea.   A  thousand-fold nobler and purer and worthier
are the gratifications which ornaments and souvenirs like
these communicate, than any which can be derived from
the most gorgeous upholstery, or the most glittering mirrors, or the most massive and magnificent plate, which
ever dazzled the eyes of a gaping crowd, or bedizened
the halls of a vulgar fashion. And those are to be honored, at home and abroad, who do not shut up such treasures for their own selfish enjoyment, but open them wide,
from time to time, for the entertainment and instruction
of the community in which they live, or, better still, for
some occasional purpose of philanthropy or of patriotism.
I cannot forget my own good fortune in being present,
by the kind invitation of the late Sir Robert Peel, a few
weeks more than twelve years ago, at the annual exhibitionii of his own celebrated gallery in Whitehall Gardens,
where I found the humblest disciples of art mingling with
the highest dignitaries of the realm,-Landseer and Leslie and Stansfield and Fielding and Westmacott, with the
Duke of Cambridge and the Duke of Wellington and
Lord Palmerston and Lord John Russell,-now gazing
with delight at a Cuyp or a Hobbimna, a Gerard Douw or
an Ostade, a Wouvermans or a Vanidervelde,-now gathering with rapture around the original Chapeau de Paille
of Rubens, (which had cost Sir Robert nearly eighteen
thousand dollars,)-or now pausing for another glance of 
40
admiration at the matchless portraits of Dr. Johnson,
Mrs. Thrale, and Boswell, by Sir Joshua Reynolds.
But let us not forget that the true mission of the fine
arts in a republican land, and in our own land especially,
is to adorn the State, to exalt the Commonwealth, to
elevate and ennoble our country, in oir own eyes and in
the eyes of others, to illustrate its history, to portray its
magnificent scenery, to commemorate its great events, to
immortalize its sages and heroes and patriots, and to pre sent to the daily sight and daily reverence, not of a few
lordly patrons or wealthy proprietors only, but of the
whole people, of every passer-by,.suchl memorials of the
great men and great deeds of the past, as shall inspire
them with a generous pride in their institutions, and with
a gallant determination to maintain and defend them.
Ours, in a word, is peculiarly a land for free galleries
and out-of-door statues, from which he who runs may
read that republics are not always ungrateful, and that
patriotic services and sacrifices may not always be unremembered.   I should hardly be afraid  to hazard  the
remark, that more of the common people had studied and
learned something of the history of their own land, on the
bas-reliefs and legends of our noble statue of Franklin,
during the two years since it was completed, than in any
library iin our city during ten times the same period.
There will be no danger to liberty, my friends, in such
indulgences ill taste as these.  Safety, security, rather.
The images of the pure and good will do something to
shame  down  vice and profligacy in our streets.   The
statues of the patriotic and the brave will stand like seiintries over our freedom,-more vigilant and effective, and
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41
certainly less corruptible sentries than many of our living
watchmen and policemen;-they will stand like sentinels
over our institutions, challenging and rebuking the first
approaches of sedition or treachery; while from our larger
and loftier monuments will be repeated to the present and
to the future the great lesson of the past, that in union
there is strength and victory and glory! Yes, the fabled
music, which the rising sun drew forth from the image of
Memnon, will find its audible antitype upon our American
soil; and from the massive bronzes or sculptures which
commemorate the glories of a Washington, the risen and
still soaring sun of liberty will draw forth the choral song
of "Union, Union, All's well," to find ever a welcome
and joyous response in the hearts of twenty millions of
people!
Nor can there be the slightest danger that American
Art will be in want of patronage in such a line of employment,-for it will not depend on the mere caprice or
favoritism of individuals, rich to-day and poor to-morrow,
but the wealth of the whole community, within reasonable bounds, will be pledged and mortgaged to its support.  Certainly there can be no dearth of opportunities
or of subjects for the genius of our Artists, in a country
whose soil is so continuously chequered over with the landing-places of Pilgrims or of Cavaliers, the council clhambers of Planters or of Patriots, the birthplaces and cradles
and battle fields of Liberty and Independence.
It is hardly too much to say, that beyond all other
lands, this great and glorious Republic of ours affords
scope, in its institutions and in its history, for the illustrations and embellishments of Art. We have not, indeed,
6 
as yet,-I hope we shall never have,-any single, allabsorbing, overshadowing Capital, like London or Paris, of
unimaginable and inexhaustible wealth, with its thousands
of acres of palaces and parks, and its standing army of
statues and monuments and portraits,-where Art might
almost be appalled at the idea that so much has been
done already, and that so little seems to remain to be
done, or to find any room for being done,-where genius
might almost be found, like the youthful inheritor of a
mighty Kingdom of antiquity, sighing over the achievements of the past and lamenting that there were not more
worlds to be conquered.
We have, it is true, a National Capital, where much
has been done, and much is being done, sometimes in good
taste and sometimes in very bad taste, but always with a
loose and lavish profuseness of expenditure, in adorning
and embellishing the offices of Government, and in commemorating the fathers of the Republic. But architecture will recognize a still wider field for its development
in the two or three and thirty capitals of our separate
States, and in the countless cities, larger than many, and
some of them larger than any, of these political centres,
which already exist, or are still springing into existence, within the limits of those States. And what richer
or more picturesque and varied materials can Sculpture or
Painting discover or desire, the world over, than the subjects which belong to the rise and progress of our Republic, to the settlement of so many colonies, to the struggles
of the settlers with savage or with civilized foes, to the
establishment of our Independence, and to the various
scenes of civil controversy or military combat, through
42
4. 
48
which we have reached the magnificent maturity of the
present moment! We can hardly turn over a page of
American history,-whether we begin with the Puritan at
Plymouth Rock, or with the Minute Man at Lexington,
or Concord-without lighting upon subjects which appeal
emphatically to the commemoration of art, and which we
should all delight to see perpetuated by the pencil or the
chisel.
Let me borrow the inimitable words of another in suggesting one or two such subjects by way of illustration.
They are the words of old John Adams, writing to his
friend Judge Tudor, in the year 1817:  "Is your daughter, Mrs. Stewart, who I am credibly
informed is one of the most accomplished of ladies, a
painter? Are you acquainted with Miss Lydia Smith,
who, I am also credibly informed, is one of the most
accomplished ladies, and a painter? Do you know Mr.
Sargent? Do you correspond with your old companion
in arms, Col. John Trumbull?  Do  you think Fisher
will be an historical painter?  Whenever you shall find
a painter, male or female, I pray you to suggest a scene
and a subject for the pencil.
"The  scene is the council chamber in the old Town
House in Boston. The date is in the month of February,
1761, nine years before you entered my office in Cole
Lane. As this was five years before you entered college,
you must have been in the second form of Master Lovell's school.
"That council chamber was as respectable an apartment as the House of Commons or the House of Lords
in Great Britain in proportion, or that in the State House 
in Philadelphia, in which the Declaration of Independence
was signed in 1776. In this chamber, round a great fire,
were seated five Judges, with Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson at their head, as Chief Justice, all arrayed in their
new, fresh, rich robes of scarlet English broadcloth; in
their large cambric bands, and immense judicial wigs.
In this chamber were seated at a long table all the barristers of law of Boston, and of the neighboring County of
Middlesex, in gowns, bands, and tie wigs. They were
not seated on ivory chairs, but their dress was more solemn and more pompous than that of the Roman Senate,
when the Gauls broke in upon them. In a corner of the
room must be placed as a spectator and an auditor, wit,
sense, imagination, genius, pathos, reason, prudence, eloquence, learning, and immense reading, hanging by the
shoulders on two crutches, covered with a great cloth
coat, in the person of Mr. Pratt, who had been solicited
on both sides, but would engage on neither, being, as
Chief Justice of New York, about to leave Boston forever.  Two portraits, at more than full length, of King
Charles the Second, and of King James the Second, in
splendid golden frames, were hung up on the most conspicuous sides of the apartment.
"One circumstance  more, Samuel Quincy and John
Adams had been admitted barristers at that term. John
was the youngest (and here he is speaking of himself);
he should be painted looking like a short thick Archbishop of Canterbury, seated at the table with a pen in
his hand, lost in admiration, now and then minutinig those
poor notes which your pupil, Judge Minot, has printed in
his history...
44
-A 
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45
"I have given you a sketch of the stage and the
scenery....    Now  for the actors and performers.   Mr.  Gridley  argued with his characteristic
learning, ingenuity, and dignity, and said everything that
could be said in favor of Cockle's Petition.
Mr. Thacher followed himn on the other side, and argued
with the softness of manners, the ingenuity and cool
reasoning, which were remarkable in his amiable character. But Otis was a flame of fire! with a promptitude of classical allusions, a depth of research, a rapid
sutmmary of historical events and dates, a profusion of
legal authorities, a prophetic glance of his eye into futurity, and a torrent of impetuous eloquence, he hurried
away everything before him. American Independence
was then and there born; the seeds of patriots and heroes
were then and there sown, to defend the vigorous youth,
the non sine Diis animosus infans.   Every man of a
crowded audience appeared to me to go away, as I did,
ready to take arms against writs of assistance.  Then
and there was the first scene of the first act of opposition
to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and
there the child Independence was born.  In fifteen years,
namely, in 1776, he grew up to manhood, and declared
himself free."
What a picture is this to have been left so long unpainted and even unattempted! The materials still exist.
The old building is still standing in State Street, and the
portraits of the principal actors are still within reach.
Since I first sketched this address, James Otis himself has
taken his station in breathing marble at Mount Auburn,
fiom the hands of the lamented Crawford, 
46
"A station like the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill."
But the picture of the scene which made James Otis
famous forever still waits for the coming artist of
America.
Let me give you another scene from the same glowing
pen, writing to the same friend a fortnight afterwards:   "Since our National Legislature have established a
national painter, (says he, referring to Col. Trumbull,)
a wise measure, for which I thank them, my imagination
runs upon the art, and has already painted I know not
how many historical pictures.   I have sent you one;
give me leave to send another. The bloody rencounter between the citizens and the soldiers, on the 5th of
March, 1770, produced a tremendous sensation throughout the town and country. The people assembled first at
Faneuil Hall, and adjourned to the Old South Church, to
the number, as was conjectured, of ten or twelve thousand
men, among whom were the most virtuous, substantial,
independent, disinterested, and intelligent citizens.....
A remonstrance to the governor, or the governor and
council, was ordained, and a demand that the regular
troops should be removed from the town. A committee
was appointed to present this remonstrance, of which
Samuel Adams was the chairman.
"Now for the picture. The theatre and the scenery
are the same with those at the discussion of writs of
assistance. The same glorious portraits of King Charles
II. and King James II., to which might be added, and
should be added, little miserable likenesses of Gov. Winthrop, Gov. Bradstreet, Gov. Endicott, and Gov. Belcher,
.a
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47
hung up in obscure corners of the room. Lt. Gov. Hutchinson, in the absence of the governor, must be placed at
the head of the council table; Lt. Col. Dalrymple, commander-in-chief of his majesty's military forces, taking
rank of all his majesty's counsellors, must be seated by
the side of the lieutenant-governor and comnmander-inchief of the province.   Eight  and  twenty  counsellors
must be painted, all seated at the council board.  Let
me see-what costume? What was the fashion of that
day, in the month of March. Large white wigs, English scarlet cloth cloaks, some of them with gold-laced
hats, not on their heads, indeed, in so august a presence,
but on the table before them, or under the table beneath
them.   Before  these  illustrious  personages  appeared
Samuel Adams, a member of the House of Representatives and their clerk, now- at the head of the committee
of the great assembly at the Old South Church....
He represented the state of the town and the country;
the dangerous, ruinous, and fatal efftects of standing
armies in populous cities in time of peace, and the determined resolution of the public, that the regular troops,
at all events, should be removed from the town.....
The heads of Hutchinson and Dalrymple were laid together in whispers for a long time; when the whispering
ceased, a long and solemn pause ensued, extremely painful to an impatient, expecting audience.   Hutchinson, in
time, broke silence; he had consulted with Col. Dalrymple, and the colonel had authorized him to say that he
might order one regiment down to the Castle, if that
would satisfy the people. With a self-recollection, a selfpossession, a self-command, a presence of mind that was
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48
admired by every man present, Samuel Adams arose
with an air of dignity and majesty, of which  he was
sometimes capable, stretched forth his hand, though even
then quivering with palsy, and with an harmonious voice
and decisive tone, said,' If the Lieutenant-Governor or
Colonel Dalrymple, or both together, have authority to
remove one regiment, they have authority to remove two,
and nothing short of the total evacuation of the town by
all the regular troops, will satisfy the public mind or preserve the peace of the province.'
"These few words thrilled through the veins of every
man in the audience, and produced the great result.
After a little awkward hesitation, it was agreed that the
town should be evacuated, and both regiments sent to
the Castle.....      The painter should seize upon the
critical moment, when Samuel Adams stretched out his
arm and made his last speech.  It will be as difficult to
do justice to as to paint an Apollo; and the transaction
deserves to be painted as much as tile Surrender of Burgoyne. Whether any artist will ever attempt it, I know
not."
'k
But we, in this day, know that the artist will come,
is coming, must come, who will attempt it, and will
succeed in the attempt.
One more scene from the same source: "'You inquire,
in your kind letter of the 19th, (wrote John Adams to
William  Plumer,  March  28,  1818,) whether'every
member of Congrress did, on the 4th of July, 1776, in
fact, cordially approve of the Declaration of Indepen
deuce.' They who were then members all signed it,
and, as I could not see their hearts, it would be hard
4
t 
49
for me to say that they did not approve it; but, as far as
I could penetrate the intricate, internal foldings of their
souls, I then believe(l, and have  not since altered my
opinion, that there were several who signed with regret,
and several others with many doubts and much lukewarmness.   The measure had been upon the carpet for
months, and obstinately opposed from day to day.   Majorities were constantly against it.  For  many (lays the
nmajority depended upon Mr. Hewes, of North Carolina.1
While a member one day was  speaking, and reading
documents from  all the colonies, to prove that the public opinion, the general sense of all, was in favor of the
measure, when he came to North CaLrolina, and produced
letters and public proceedings which demonstrated that
the majority of that colony were in favor of it, Mr.
Hewes, who  had  hitherto constantly voted against it,
started suddenly upright, and lifting up both his hands
to Heaven, as if he had been in a trance, cried out,' It
is done, and I will abide by it!'  I would give more
for a perfect painting of the terror and horror upon the
faces of the old majority, at that critical moment, than
for the best piece of Raphael."
So said John Adams, and so say we all.  That is a
picture for the Old North State, and one which would do
more than all her Meckleiiburgh pretensions, be they
ever so well founded, to identify her with that glorious
Declaration, of which Adams himself was the Colossus
on the floor of Congress.
I Joseph Hewes, a native of New Jersey, and a Quaker by education,
but of whom it is said that when the Quakers put forth a testimony
against the proceedings of Congress in 1775, he withdrew from their
communion. 
50
Certainly, my friends, no more graphic and inspiring
libretto for a great work of art was ever composed, than
may be found in these familiar letters of old John Adams.
Too many of our American artists seem to think that
there is nothing worthy of their notice on their own soil,
that the first secret of all success is to expatriate themselves,-to go abroad and stay abroad to study the great
models of Greece and Rome.   Rogers, the poet, who
knew what Italy is, and who has so helped us all to know
it, and whose walls were covered with so many gems of the
old masters, once told me that in his judgment nobody
need go twenty miles out of London to see as fine works
of art as the world afforded, referring particularly to the
Elgin marbles in the British Museum and the Cartoons
of Raphael at Hampton Court.  But it is not too late
for American artists to learn that they need not go twenty
miles out of Boston to find as good subjects, certainly,
as the world can afford; that it may be as well for some
of them, at least, to stay at home, or certainly to return
home, and to study the history of their own land. They
will find models and characters there, which can be but
poorly supplied by the false gods and fabulous heroes of
an idolatrous antiquity. And there will be no danger
that their statues will go down to decorate the hall
of Neptune or the caves of the mermaids, as those of
Webster and of John Adams himself did, not long ago.
There is no consideration which affords me more satisfaction in performing this humble labor of love for the artists
of Boston, than that it is for the advancement of their
patriotic purpose of securing an equestrian statue of
Washington, designed and moulded by a native artist,
-4.
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and cast by native mechanics, and wholly to be completed, like yonder Franklin, on our own soil.
I cannot forget that a scene was witnessed at Washington, a little more than eleven years ago, which will
one day or other furnish the subject of another of our
great historical pictures.   The Representatives of the
people are assembled in the Hall which has so recently
been abandoned. The customary acknowledgment of the
God of nations has been made, and his blessing invoked
on the day's labors and duties. The Speaker has assumed
the chair, and the clerk has just finished the reading of
the journal. A venerable figure is seen rising to address
the House.   Associated with the longest and most varied
public service, commencing under the Presidency of
Washington, and by no means ending,-rather beginning
again,-at the close of his own Presidency; associated,
too, with the purest integrity and the highest ability and
accomplishments;-all eyes are riveted upon that figure
as it rises. A paper is seen in the outstretched hand.
A voice is heard, in broken accents, fronm those aged lips,
trembling, but not with fear. But hand, voice, figure
are at once perceived to be  sinking  under the effort.
Affectionate colleagues, skilful physicians, and friends
from his owii State and from other States, hasten to his
support.  The still-breathing form is borne out into the
rotundo, followed in silence by a House impatient of any
prescribed ceremonies of adjournment.  Illustrious Senators meet them from the other wing of the capitol.  The
birthday of Washington intervenes, and Providence still
averts a blow which might associate that day with anything but the gladness and gratitude which must ever
51 
belong to it.  In the Speaker's private room  the last
struggle is witnessed, not many days after, and the noblest
hearts of South Carolina and Virginia are soon found
mingling their sympathies with those of Massachusetts,
over one whose enviable privilege it was to fall il the
discharge of his duties, and to die beneath the very roof
of the Capitol! Can any American painter desire a
grander subject for his pencil. One would have thought
that it would have been seized upon ere now, before the
traditions of that scene should have grown fainter, and
the living witnesses of it fewer.   An American painter,
as we are proud to remember, (the father of the venerable Lord Lyndhurst,) won his richest reputation by immortalizing a kindred theme. - But the death of Chatham
was not more august than that of John Quincy Adams.
The men who surrounded Chatham, though decked in
ermine and decorated with orders, were not more worthy
of illustration than our own Clays and Calhouns and
Berriens and Bentons and Websters, all of whom would
be included in such a group.
But not New England history or New England men
alone have filrnished materials for historical commemoration. In singling out the Adamses as at once the suggesters and the subjects of American art, we have literally but commenced with the first letter of the Alphabet
of Patriotism. We might follow down that Alphabet,
letter competing with letter, to its very close,-as far
down as W, certainly, the initial not only of our Webster, but of a name above every name in the annals of
human liberty,-and find scarce a consonant or a vowel
without its corresponding and manifold title to commem
5 -0 
oration.   Every  colony,  every  State, every county,
every city, almost every village, has its great names and
its glorious associations.  And I need not say, that there
are some nanmes and some associations which belong
everywhere,-which are the property of nothing less
than the whole nation, and the commemoration of which
can never be confined to any territorial localities, nor
exhausted by any number of repetitions.
As I passed along the streets of Baltimore, a few
days since, I saw in a niche constructed for the purpose,
on the front of a new and noble store, a really beautiful
full length statue of Washington, in pure white marble,
recently erected by a successful trader of that city,
wholly at his own expense, and executed among the
latest works of the accomplished and lamented Bartholomew.   The "Monumental City" has long had a statue
of Washington, surmounting a magnificent column, of
which it may well be proud;-but nobody in Baltimore
dreams that there can be too many Washingtons.
I commenced this Address, my friends, with a memorabl)le saying of a distinguished British statesman in
his dialogue with Quincy. Let me conclude it by a no
less memorable and far more discriminating utterance
from a young and gallant French soldier,-the Marquis
de Chastellux,-who served so bravely with our army
of Independence for two years,-a grandson of the great
Chancellor D'Agutesseau,-to whom Washington paid
the tribute, so unusual with him, of saying in a letter of
farewell, "I can truly say, that never in my life have I
parted with a man, to whom my soul clave more sincerely
than it did to you,"-to whom he paid the still more
15 
unusual and unique tribute of writing a humorous letter
to him on occasion of his marriage six years afterwards.
I wish I had time to make a parenthesis here and read
you a part of this letter; a very funny one it is, and
exhibits Washington most gracefiully and felicitously
unbending from his constitutional and habitual grav ity;-but you will find it in the admirable collection of
Dr. Sparks.
This gallant soldier of France, as you may all remember, wrote an account of his travels in America, which
has been published both in French and in English in two
octavo volumes.  In one of these volumes, he included,
also, a letter of his own, addressed "To Mr. Madison,
Professor of Philosophy in the University of Williamsburgh," (Virginia,) a friend and near relative, I believe, of
the illustrious James Madison.   The letter was dated on
board the Frigate L'Emeraude, in the Bay of Chesapeake, on the 12th of January, 1783, and contained the
following remarkable, and I had almost said exquisite,
passage:  "Henceforward, Sir, let us enlarge our views; the
Fine Arts are adapted to America: They have already
made some progress there, they will eventually make
much greater; no obstacle, no reasonable objection can
stop them in their career;  these are poilnts at least on
which we are agreed. Let us now see to what purposes
they may be converted by the public, the State, and the
government.   Here a vast field opens to our speculation,
but as it is exposed to every eye, I shall fix mine on the
object with which it has been most forcibly struck.
Recollect, Sir, what I have said above, relative to officers
54 
55
and public dignities. I have remarked that a jealousy,
possibly well founded in itself, but pushed to the extreme,
had  made honors too rare, and rewards  too moderate
amongst you. Call in tile Fine Arts to the aid of a
timid legislation; the latter confers neither rank, nor
permanent distinction; let her bestow statues, monuments, and medals. Astonished Europe, in admiring a
Washington,  a Warren, a Green, and a Montgomery,
demands  what  recompense  can repay  their services
behold that recompense, worthy of them and of you.
Let all the great towns in Amnerica present statues of
Washington with this inscription:-PATER, LIBERATOR, DEFENSOR PATRIE;  let us see, also, those of Hancock and of Adams, with only two words, Primi Proscripti; that of Franklin, with the Latin verse inscribed
in France below his portrait —(Eripuit celo fuilmen,
sceptrunzque tyrannis).-What glory would not this reflect
upon America!  It would be found that she has already
more heroes than she could procure marble and artists,and your public Halls, your Curice, why should they not
offer in relief and paintings, the battles of Bunker's Hill,
of Saratoga, of Trenton, of Princeton, of Monmouth, of
Cowpens, of Eutaw Springs. Thus would you perpetuate the memory of these glorious deeds; thus would you
maintain even through a long peace, that national pride,
so necessary to the preservation of liberty; and you
might, without alarming even that liberty, lavish rewards
equal to the sacrifices she has received."
The gallant Marquis did not live to see any part of his
suggestion accomplished. Our country was not in a condition, at that period of its history, to spare any of its 
time or its means for the commemoration of its heroes or
patriots. Boston did, indeed, as early as 1790, set up on
Beacon Hill a simple Doric column, surmounted by our
then newly  adopted national emblem-the  Eagle-in
commemoration of the adoption of the Constitution of
the United States and of the great Revolutionary events
by which it was preceded. But Beacon Hill itself was
long ago  removed  into the midst of the sea, and the
shaft reduced to its original elements of brick and stone.
The old( tablets, however, are still to be seen in the
Doric Hall of the State House, and I have sometimes
wished that the whole columnii might be set up again, in
its primal proportions and simlplicity, peering above trees
and flagstaff; on the highest elevation of Boston Commoii, with the original tablets in its pedestal.
But the memorials of that day were few and economical.  Nor can I regret that such honors were not awarded
to living men, however illustrious.  It is time enough for
such distinctions, when death has closed the account and
set his seal upon the record, and when the judgment of
posterity has confirmed the impressions and ratified the
decrees of contemiporaries.  It is rash to accept the applauses of the hour for the verdict of history.  It is
dangerous to pronounce upon the ultimate merits of a
whole life, from the brilliancy of its opening, or even from
the steadier lustre of its middle passages.   Had  their
daring and chivalrous exploits during the early stages
of the Revolution been crowned with such rewards, Benedict Arnold and Aaron Burr would have had statues
in all our streets,-to be hurled from their pedestals
long before this time,-dashed into pieces and crumbled
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II 
57
into powder beneath the feet of a betrayed and outraged people!
But there is no longer any fear in commemorating, by
suitable and proportionate monuments, the truly great men
of the Colonial or of the Revolutionary period. Their
fame is beyond the reach of accident, and their forms
may well be seen decorating our halls and squares. The
work has been auspiciously commenced. The wish of
the Marquis de Chastellux is in process of being accomplished.  The great chapters of our history may be read
on the walls of our National Capitol, and even his own
portrait is not wanting to at least one of the groups.
Franklin may be seen, in marble or in bronze, in the cities
of his burial and of his birth. Warren is oIl Bunker Hill.
James Otis is at Mount Auburn, and Adams will soon be
there with him. While there is scarce a city in our land,
in which the peerless presence of the transcendent Washington-Pater, Liberator, Defensor Patrice-may not be
hailed upon the canvas or in sculpture. The exquisite
portrait statue by Houdon came first, and nothing will ever
surpass, or equal it, in interest or in beauty. But the ancient and illustrious State of Virginia has now worthily
set the example of a more elaborate and composite memorial,-no huge unmeaning pile of stone, exhibiting nothing
but the fidelity of the commonest mechanic art,-no grotesque combination of allegorical and exaggerated shapes,
-but a glorious group of her own sainted sons, Henry
and Jefferson, Nelson and Lee, Mason and Marshall, as
they stood proudly and loyally and lovingly in life, clustering around him who was ever above them all, and challenging, alike for him a(nd for themselves, the affectionate
8
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4 
remembrance ot a grateful posterity! Coming from the
hands of an American artist of the highest genius, and
whose early loss the country and the world have not yet
ceased to deplore,-it has every title to the admiration of
all who shall be privileged to behold it. I have just returned from seeing it for the first time, and no one can
leave it without the reflection, that the great mission of
American Art has here at least been successfully exemplified-to adorn the State, to exalt the Commonwealth, to
illustrate its history, and to perpetuate, for the admiration
and emulation of mankind, the memories of those matchless men, by whom the union and liberty and independence of our country were so nobly established and defended.
And now the artists of Boston,-incited by the
spirited and admirable design of a most meritorious
brother artist, have appealed to us to aid them in placing Massachusetts by the side of Virginia in this precise
mode of commemorating the Father of his Country. I
rejoice that our native artists have thus spoken out, unitedly and earnestly, for themselves, and I trust and believe
that their appeal will meet with a cordial and generous
response.   I do not forget that other and excellent designs for a similar work have recently been produced,one by Mr. Ball Hughes, who has so long resided in our
neighborhood, and another by our own Richard Greenough, lately residing in Paris, and jist returned to his
native country.   I trust that both of them will be called
for and cast, somewhere  or other, at no  distant day.
Philadelphia cannot do better than adopt one of them;
while the other may well be taken, in due time, to decorate
58
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those consecrated grounds at Mount Vernon, which the
efforts of American ladies, aided and inspired by the eloquence of our incomparable Everett, will soon have redeemed from all proprietorship less comprehensive than
that of the whole people of the Union.
Yet, my friends, the end of my Address must not forget
its beginning. We may go too far, we may go too fast,
in these memorials.   We may exhaust upon single works
and single subjects all that art can rightfully claim from a
whole generation. We may bestow upon monuments and
memorials that which is wanted, that which is needed, for
the relief of the destitute, for the education of the young,
or for the institutions of religion and the worship of God.
We must not forget that the soul of the humblest living
man is of more worth, than the dust of the mightiest
dead that ever trod the ways of glory or sounded all the
depths and shoals of honor.  State Statues, merely, will
not sustain and shore up these cherished institutions of freedom.   Graven images, even of our most saintly heroes,
are but a poor substitute for the worship of that Almighty
Being to whom we owe it, that our horse and his rider,
instead of being thrown into the sea like those of Egypt
of old, have become associated forever with the most
glorious triumphs of Liberty.   We  must not rob our
charities, or starve our churches, to decorate our squares
or even to magnify our beneftactors,-and fortunate, fortunate is it, when both objects can be worthily blended, as
in the Memorial Church of the Puritans in London, for
which an eloquent English voice is at this moment
pleading among us. But no such considerations are involved in this design. It is one which contemplates no
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60
extravagant or disproportionate outlay.   A  single Fair,
in this very Hall,-like that which finished the monument
on Bunker Hill, or endowed the Asylum for the Blind,
or relieved the treasury of the Boston Provident Association at a moment of its utmost need, or more recently
assured the erection of a Hospital for Incurables,
under the auspices of ladies like those I see before
me,-will accomplish the entire work. And it will be
accomplished.   The artists and the lovers of art, in our
city, have pronounced the imperative decree, that this
admirable design of Washington,-as he mounted his
charger under the Old Cambridge elm on  the  3d of
July, 1775, to take command, for the first time, of an
American army for the relief of Boston,-or as he stood
on yonder heights and witnessed his first great victory,
while the British fleet and the British forces sailed out
of our harbor on the 17th of March, 1776,-or  as he
reined up in yonder street to receive the homage of every
true Boston  heart, as  First President  of the United
States, on the 24th day of October, 1789,-that this
design shall no longer remain in precarious, perishable
plaster, but shall assume a form as durable as our gratitude or his own fimne. And to that decree, as well as
to this Address, I feel assured that all who hear me will
give a hearty and unanimous Amen!
. 
APPENDIX.
RESOLVED, that this Committee gratefully acknowledge the generosity
of the Honorable ROBERT C. WINTHROP, in complying with their invitation to deliver his admirable address upon "The Fine Arts and their
relation to Historical Monuments," in aid of the erection in Boston of
Ball's Equestrian Statue of Washington, and that they return to him
their sincere thanks for his service, with the assurance, that among the
pleasing associations which will accompany the undertaking, none will be
more encouraging than the interest which he so promptly and so acceptably manifested.
THOMAS RUSSELL.
BENJAMIN CHAMPNEY.
JOHN D. W. Joy.
WARREN SAWYER,
HAMMATT BILLINGS.
wf
ALEX. H. RICE.
F. H. UNDERWOOD..
GEO. H. CHICKERING.
S. E. GUILD.
CHAS. G. LORING, JR. 
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