security against the spread of slavery; but I would have it distinctly
understood, that by the next anniversary of the birth of the Father of his
Country, we shall emancipate the slaves in all the disloyal and rebellious
States if they do not previously return to their allegiance.
But justice to the slaves, no less than necessity to us, demands
emancipation. Certainly they have been subjected to a sufficient
apprenticeship under slavery, through two centuries, to prepare them for
freedom if ever they are to be prepared. I say, then, justice to the slave
demands emancipation. Let us maintain the principles of the declaration of
Independence. The fundamental difference on which the North and South have
divided for thirty years is on that part of the Declaration which says
"All men are created equal." They have denied it; we have undertaken to
maintain it. Jefferson meant, when he penned that immortal truth, not that
men are equal physically, intellectually, or morally, but that no one is
born under any political subserviency to his fellow man. Let us maintain
the doctrine now. These slaves are men; Jefferson did not hesitate to call
them "brethren." The declaration concerning the equality of men applies to
them as to us; and now that in the progress of events the South has
relieved us from responsibility in regard to eleven disloyal States, let us
stand forth as a nation in our original strength and purity, maintaining
the ideas to which our fathers gave utterance. That we may have ground on
which to stand and defend ourselves in this contest, let us declare in the
presence of these slaveholders and rebels, in the presence of Europe, that
we proclaim THE EQUALITY OF ALL MEN.
G. S. Boutwell.
CCCXVIII.
THE RECONSTRUCTION OF LOUISIANA.
Mr. President and Fellow-citizens--At the request of the Committee of
Arrangements, I am present as a spectator, to witness the imposing and
grand ceremonies of this interesting occasion, and reluctantly to express
in words my great gratification at the progress that has been made in the
restoration of Louisiana to the Union of States, and in the majestic
evidence before me of the returning loyalty of its people. I have watched
with the deepest interest the momentous events in the struggle through
which we are passing, from its inception to the present hour. In common
with the mass of my countrymen I have sorrowed at reverses, and rejoiced in
victories. I have mourned over the heroes who have fallen on the field of
battle--my brothers in blood, my brothers in arms--and have joined in the
honors which a grateful people have showered upon the gallant spirits who
upon the sea and upon the land have led our hosts to victory. They never
can be forgotten. Day by day and hour by hour, I have observed the receding
armies of the enemy, until more than half the territory covered by the
shadow of the rebel flag at the beginning of the war, has fallen into the
possession of the Government, and is covered by the Stars and Stripes--the
emblem of Liberty, now and forever, here and everywhere.
We have, indeed, enough to rejoice our hearts in the progress of our
armies, and to give joy to the festivities of this glad hour,--
"But much remains
To conquer still. Peace hath her victories
No less renowned than war."
In order to maintain the ground we have recovered with such terrible
sacrifice of precious life, and to enable the gallant leaders and heroic
men of our armies to retire to the walks of civil life again, it is
necessary that civil institutions of government should be reëstablished,
and a new, subdued, yet patriotic spirit, like that which held
"The helm of Rome, when robes, not arms,
Repelled the fierce Epirote and the bold African,"
should animate our people and restore the pristine purity and power of the
nation.
Louisiana has not been faithless to her duties, nor is she now, nor will
she be in the future. Among the truest spirits in the hour of trial were
her sons and her daughters. Among the bravest and truest upon the field of
battle have been her volunteers. She was the first in this great revolution
of ideas rather than arms, to organize her public schools upon a war
footing, and infuse into the uncorrupted hearts of their pupils this new
sentiment of nationality, by the daily repetition, with the morning
prayers, of the magnificent anthems of American liberty. She was the first
to institute the system of compensated labor, that makes the restoration of
the institution of slavery on this continent impossible that compels us to
prepare for the elevation of the oppressed race among us, and the ultimate
recognition of all their rights. She is the first in this revolution of
ideas to give to the social element of the people a national interest and a
national spirit in the great drama of life through which we are passing.
And here, to-day, with this splendid pageant--here, to-day, at the
inauguration which consummates an election by the people of more than
ordinary purity and of unrestricted freedom--here, to-day she is to
recognize, as a national sentiment for the new age and the new history, the
doctrine that Union AND Liberty, now and forever, must be, and will be, one
and inseparable.
In proportion to the confidence with which the people of the American
continent shall view the results of this day's history so will arise, in
all parts of our land, a cry of joy as of a people liberated from the
bondage of slavery and death. And from the hearthstone and the altar will
arise the prayer of the good and wise, that this first gleam of light will
prove a joyful harbinger of a perpetual day of peace, prosperity, and
power.
N. P. Banks.
CCCXIX.
THE BIBLE--ITS INFLUENCE.
This Book has taken such a hold on the world as no other. The literature of
Greece, which goes up like incense from that land of temples and heroic
deeds, has not half the influence of this Book from a nation alike despised
in ancient and modern times. It is read of a Sunday in all the thirty
thousand pulpits of our land. In all the temples of Christendom is its
voice lifted up, week by week. The sun never sets on its gleaming page. It
goes equally to the cottage of the plain man and the palace of the king. It
is woven into the literature of the scholar, and colors the talk of the
street. The bark of the merchant cannot sail the sea without it; no ship of
war goes to the conflict but the Bible is there! It enters men's closets;
mingles in all the grief and cheerfulness of life. The affianced maiden
prays God in Scripture for strength in her new duties; men are married by
Scripture. The Bible attends them in their sickness; when the fever of the
world is on them, the aching head finds a softer pillow if such leaves lie
underneath. The mariner, escaping from shipwreck, clutches this first of
his treasures, and keeps it sacred to God. It goes with the peddler, in his
crowded pack; cheers him at eventide, when he sits down dusty and fatigued;
brightens the freshness of his morning face. It blesses us when we are
born; gives names to half Christendom; rejoices with us; has sympathy for
our mourning; tempers our grief to finer issues. It is the better part of
our sermons. It lifts man above himself; our best of uttered prayers are
its storied speech, wherewith our fathers and the patriarchs prayed.
The timid man, about awaking from this dream of life, looks through the
glass of Scripture and his eye grows bright; he does not fear to stand
alone, to tread the way unknown and distant, to take the death-angel by the
hand, and bid farewell to wife, and babes, and home. Men rest on this their
dearest hopes. It tells them of God, and of his blessed Son; of earthly
duties and of heavenly rest. Foolish men find it the source of Plato's
wisdom, and the science of Newton, and the art of Raphael; wicked men use
it to rivet the fetters of the slave. Men who believe nothing else that is
Spiritual, believe the Bible all through; without this they would not
confess, say they, even that there was a God.
T. Parker.
CCCXX.
THE BIBLE--ITS DEEP AND LASTING POWER.
For this deep and lasting power of the Bible there must be an adequate
cause. That nothing comes of nothing is true all the world over. It is no
light thing to hold, with an electric chain, a thousand hearts, though but
an hour, beating and bounding with such fiery speed. What is it then to
hold the Christian world, and that for centuries? Are men fed with chaff
and husks? The authors we reckon great, whose word is in the newspaper, and
the market-place, whose articulate breath now sways the nation's mind, will
soon pass away, giving place to other great men of a season, who in their
turn shall follow them to eminence and then to oblivion. Some thousand
"famous writers" come up in this century, to be forgotten in the next. But
the silver cord of the Bible is not loosed, nor its golden bowl broken, as
Time chronicles its tens of centuries passed by. Has the human race gone
mad? Time sits as a refiner of metal; the dross is piled in forgotten
heaps, but the pure gold is reserved for use, passes into the ages, and is
current a thousand years hence as well as to-day. It is only real merit
that can long pass for such. Tinsel will rust in the storms of life. False
weights are soon detected there. It is only a heart that can speak deep and
true, to a heart; a mind to a mind; a soul to a soul; wisdom to the wise,
and religion to the pious. There must then be in the Bible, mind,
conscience, heart and soul, wisdom and religion. Were it otherwise, how
could millions find it in their lawgiver, friend, and prophet? Some of the
greatest of human institutions seem built on the Bible; such things will
not stand on heaps of chaff but on mountains of rocks.
T. Parker.
CCCXXI.
SUPPORT OF THE GOVERNMENT BY FORCE.
What we have to do is clear. The dictate of wisdom, the impulse of
patriotism, the instinct of safety and preservation, the lessons of the
past, the hopes of the future, all bid us uphold the constitutional
Government of the United States, and by the power of force--a power which,
of necessity, underlies all government--carry it triumphantly through this
conflict, till its legitimate results are attained. Upon this power of
force, the conspirators against this Government have relied from the
beginning. They have expected to appeal to it, as is evident from the
extent to which the Northern forts, arsenals, and people have been robbed
of arms and munitions of war, which, during the last administration, were
sent into the Southern States in numbers altogether disproportionate to
their population, and unauthorized by law. If they believed in the right of
peaceable secession from the Government of the United States, as a right
clearly admitted and secured by the Constitution, it is strange that they
should have made such far-sighted preparations to maintain this right by
forcible resistance to its authority. To this power, these conspirators and
those whom they had beguiled from their allegiance, made a direct appeal
when they fired their first shot upon Fort Sumter. This appeal, the United
States Government is compelled to meet, and by the strong arm of its
military power, at the point of the bayonet, and beneath the smoke and
blaze of its guns, enforce the obedience which reason, if it had not been
dethroned, would never have refused, and recover the allegiance which
patriotism, if it had not been deceived and bewildered, would never have
relinquished. In this case, it is not the Government that inaugurates civil
war, but the men who, by treason and rebellion, are seeking to overturn it;
and for this gigantic crime,--the crime of disturbing the peace of thirty
millions of people, of attempting to dismember a Union fraught with
manifest advantages to all embraced in it, and to overturn, by force, a
Government benignant in its sway, and mighty in its protection, its
benefits, and its blessings,--for this crime they have no justification.
Under civil institutions, republican and representative in their character,
where there are legitimate, constitutional channels provided for the
expression of the popular will, through which the Government can be
modified, its organic or its statute laws reached, altered, amended, so as
to meet the wishes of the majority, or protect the rights of a minority,
there can be no justification of rebellion that will stand before the
world, or secure a verdict of approval from the pen of impartial history.
If we would secure for ourselves that approval, let us stand be this
constitutional Government of the United States, and at whatever cost, carry
it thorough to the legitimate results of this conflict.
S. K. Lothrop.
BOOK SECOND.
RECENT SELECTIONS.
POETRY.
CCCXXII.
OUR COUNTRY'S CALL.
Lay down the axe, fling by the spade:
Leave in its track the toiling plough;
The rifle and the bayonet-blade
For arms like yours were fitter now;
And let the hands that ply the pen
Quit the light task, and learn to wield
The horseman's crooked brand, and rein
The charger on the battle-field.
Our country calls; away! away!
To where the blood-stream blots the green,
Strike to defend the gentlest sway
That Time in all his course has seen.
See, from a thousand coverts--see
Spring the armed foes that haunt her track;
They rush to smite her down, and we
Must beat the banded traitors back.
Ho! sturdy as the oaks ye cleave,
And moved as soon to fear and flight,
Men of the glade and forest! leave
Your woodcraft for the field of fight.
The arms that wield the axe must pour
An iron tempest on the foe;
His serried ranks shall reel before
The arm that lays the panther low.
And ye who breast the mountain storm
By grassy steep or highland lake,
Come, for the land ye love, to form
A bulwark that no foe can break.
Stand, like your own gray cliff's that mock
The whirlwind; stand in her defence:
The blast as soon shall move the rock
As rushing squadron's bear ye thence.
And ye, whose homes are by her grand
Swift rivers, rising far away,
Come from the depth of her green land
As mighty in your march as they;
As terrible as when the rains
Have swelled them over bank and bourn,
With sudden floods to drown the plains
And sweep along the woods uptorn.
And ye who throng, beside the deep,
Her ports and hamlets of the strand,
In number like the waves that leap
On his long murmuring marge of sand,
Come, like that deep, when, o'er his brim,
He rises, all his floods to pour,
And flings the proudest barks that swim,
A helpless wreck against the shore.
Few, few were they whose swords, of old,
Won the fair land in which we dwell;
But we are many, we who hold
The grim resolve to guard it well.
Strike for that broad and goodly land,
Blow after blow, till men shall see
That Might and Right move hand in hand,
And glorious must their triumph be.
W. C. Bryant.
CCCXXIII.
NOT YET.
O country, marvel of the earth!
O realm to sudden greatness grown!
The age that gloried in thy birth,
Shall it behold thee overthrown?
Shall traitors lay that greatness low?
No, Land of Hope and Blessing, No!
And we who wear thy glorious name,
Shall we, like cravens, stand apart,
When those whom thou hast trusted, aim
The death-blow at thy generous heart?
Forth goes the battle-cry, and lo!
Hosts rise in harness, shouting, No!
And they who founded, in our land,
The power that rules from sea to sea,
Bled they in vain, or vainly planned
To leave their country great and free?
Their sleeping ashes, from below,
Send up the thrilling murmur, No!
Knit they the gentle ties which long
These sister States were proud to wear,
And forged the kindly links so strong
For idle hands in sport to tear--
For scornful hands aside to throw?
No, by our fathers' memories, No!
Our humming marts, our iron ways,
Our wind-tossed woods on mountain crest,
The hoarse Atlantic, with his bays,
The calm, broad Ocean of the West,
And Mississippi's torrent flow,
And loud Niagara, answer, No!
Not yet the hour is nigh, when they
Who deep in Eld's dim twilight sit,
Earth's ancient kings, shall rise and say,
"Proud country, welcome to the pit!
So soon art thou, like us, brought low?"
No, sullen group of shadows, No!
For now, behold the arm that gave
The victory in our fathers' day,
Strong as of old, to guard and save--
That mighty arm which none can stay--
On clouds above and fields below,
Writes, in men's sight, the answer, No!
W. C. Bryant.
CCCXXIV.
THE AMERICAN FLAG.
At last, at last, each glowing star
In that pure field of heavenly blue,
On every people shining far,
Burns, to its utmost promise true.
Hopes in our fathers' hearts that stirred,
Justice, the seal of peace, long scorned,
O perfect peace! too long deferred,
At last, at last, your day has dawned.
Your day has dawned, but many an hour
Of storm and cloud, of doubt and tears,
Across the eternal sky must lower,
Before the glorious noon appears.
And not for us that noontide glow:
For us the strife and toil shall be;
But welcome toil, for now we know
Our children shall that glory see.
At last, at last, O Stars and Stripes!
Touched in your birth by Freedom's flame,
Your purifying lightning wipes
Out from our history its shame.
Stand to your faith, America!
Sad Europe listen to our call!
Up to your manhood, Africa!
That gracious flag floats over all.
And when the hour seems dark with doom,
Our sacred banner, lifted higher,
Shall flash away the gathering gloom
With inextinguishable fire.
Pure as its white the future see!
Bright as its red is now the sky!
Fixed as its stars the faith shall be,
That nerves our hands to do or die.
G. W. Curtis
CCCXXV.
AM I FOR PEACE? YES.
For the peace which rings out from the cannons' throat,
And the suasion of shot and shell,
Till Rebellion's spirit is trampled down
To the depths of its kindred hell.
For the peace which shall follow the squadron's tramp,
Where the brazen trumpets bray,
And, drunk with the fury of storm and strife,
The blood-red chargers neigh.
For the peace which shall wash out the leprous stain
Of our slavery--foul and grim,
And shall sunder the fetters which creak and clank
On the down-trodden dark man's limb.
I will curse him as traitor, and false of heart,
Who would shrink from the conflict now,
And will stamp it, with blistering, burning brand,
On his vitreous, Cain-like brow.
Out! out of the way! with your spurious peace,
Which would make us Rebellion's slaves;
We will rescue our land from the traitorous grasp,
Or cover it with our graves.
Out! out of the way! with your knavish schemes!
You trembling and trading pack!
Crouch away in the dark, like a sneaking hound
That its master has beaten back.
You would barter the fruit of our fathers' blood,
And sell out the Stripes and Stars,
To purchase a place with Rebellion's votes,
Or escape from Rebellion's scars.
By the widow's wail, by the mother's tears,
By the orphans who cry for bread,
By our sons who fell, we will never yield
Till Rebellion's soul is dead.
Anonymous.
CCCXXVI.
THE GREAT BELL ROLAND.
Toll! Roland, toll!
In Old St. Bavon's tower,
At midnights hour,
The great bell Roland spoke!
All souls that slept in Ghent awoke!
What meant the thunder stroke?
Why trembled wife and maid?
Why caught each man his blade?
Why echoed every street
With tramp of thronging feet
All flying to the city's wall?
It was the warning call
That Freedom stood in peril of a foe!
And even timid hearts grew bold
Whenever Roland tolled,
And every hand a sword could hold!
So acted men
Like patriots then,
Three hundred years ago!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Bell never yet was hung,
Between whose lips there swung
So grand a tongue!
If men be patriots still,
At thy first sound
True hearts will bound,
Great souls will thrill!
Then toll and strike the test
Through each man's breast,
Till loyal hearts shall stand confess'd,--
And may God's wrath smite all the rest!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Not now in old St. Bavon's tower-Not
now at midnight hour--
Not now from River Scheldt to Zuyder Zee,
But here,--this side the sea!--.
Toll here, in broad, bright day!-For
not by night awaits
A noble foe without the gates,
But perjured friends within betray,
And do the deed at noon!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Thy sound is not too soon!
To Arms! Ring out the Leader's call!
Reëcho it from East to West,
Till every hero's breast
Shall swell beneath a soldier's crest!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Till cottager from cottage wall
Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun!
The sire bequeathed them to the son,
When only half their work was done!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Till swords from scabbards leap!
Toll! Roland, toll!
What tears can widows weep
Less bitter than when brave men fall?
Toll! Roland, toll!
In shadowed hut and small
Shall lie the soldier's pall,
And hearts shall break while graves are filled!
Amen! So God has willed!
And may his grace anoint us all!
Toll! Roland, toll!
The Dragon on thy tower
Stands sentry to this hour,
And Freedom so stands safe in Ghent!
And the merrier bells now ring,
And in the land's serene content
Men shout "God save the King!"
Until the skies are rent!
So let it be;
For a kingly king is he
Who keeps his people free!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Ring out across the sea!
No longer They but We
Have now such need of thee!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Forever may thy throat
Keep dumb its warning note
Till Freedom's perils be outbraved!
Toll! Roland, toll!
Till Freedom's flag, wherever waved,
Shall overshadow not a man enslaved!
Toll! Roland, toll!
From Northern lake to Southern strand,
Toll! Roland, toll!
Till friend and foe, at thy command,
Once more shall clasp each other's hand,
And shout, one-voiced, "God save the land!"
And love the land that God hath saved!
Toll! Roland, toll!
T. Tilton.
CCXXVII.
THE MASSACHUSETTS LINE.
Still first, as long and long ago,
Let Massachusetts muster:
Give her the post right next the foe;
Be sure that you may trust her.
She was the first to give her blood
For Freedom and for Honor;
She trod her soil to crimson mud:
God's blessing be upon her!
She never faltered for the right,
Nor ever will hereafter:
Fling up her name with all your might;
Shake roof-tree and shake rafter.
But of old deeds she need not brag,--
How she broke sword and fetter:
Fling out again the old striped Flag;
She'll do yet more and better.
In peace, her sails fleck all the seas;
Her mills shake every river;
And where are scenes so fair as these
God and her true hands give her?
In war, her claim who seek to rob?
All others come in later:
It is hers first to front the Mob,
The Tyrant, and the Traitor.
God bless, God bless, the glorious State!
Let her have way to battle!
She'll go where batteries crash with fate,
Or where thick rifles rattle.
Give her the Right, and let her try;
And then who can may press her;
She'll go straight on, or she will die:
God bless her, and God bless her!
R. Lowell.
CCCXXVIII.
ON THE SHORES OF TENNESSEE.
"Move my arm-chair, faithful Pompey,
In the sunshine bright and strong,
For this world is fading, Pompey--
Massa won't be with you long;
And I fain would hear the south wind
Bring once more the sound to me,
Of the wavelets softly breaking
On the shores of Tennessee.
"Mournful though the ripples murmur,
As they still the story tell,
How no vessels float the banner
That I've loved so long and well,
I shall listen to their music,
Dreaming that again I see
Stars and stripes on sloop and shallop,
Sailing up the Tennessee.
"And, Pompey, while old massa's waiting
For death's last despatch to come,
If that exiled starry banner
Should come proudly sailing home,
You shall greet it, slave no longer--
Voice and hand shall both be free
That shouts and points to Union colors
On the waves of Tennessee."
"Massa's berry kind to Pompey;
But ole darkey's happy here,
Where he's tended corn and cotton
For 'ese many a long-gone year.
Over yonder Missis's sleeping--
No one tends her grave like me;
Mebbie she would miss the flowers
She used to love in Tennessee.
"'Pears like she was watching Massa--
If Pompey should beside him stay,
Mebbie she'd remember better
How for him she used to pray;
Telling him that way up yonder
White as snow his soul would be,
If he served the Lord of heaven
While he lived in Tennessee."
Silently the tears were rolling
Down the poor old dusky face,
As he stepped behind his master,
In his long accustomed place.
Then a silence fell around them,
As they gazed on rock and tree
Pictured in the placid waters
Of the rolling Tennessee.