A DISCOURSE

On the Progress of Philosophy, and its Influence on the Intellectual

and Moral Character of Man; delivered before the Virginia Historical

and Philosophical Society, February 5, 1835. By _George Tucker_,

Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Virginia.

_Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Society_:--

I feel the weight of the task I have undertaken to perform, the more

sensibly, when I recollect the brilliant qualifications of the

member[1] who was the first choice of the society, and that I must

disappoint the expectations which that choice so naturally raised. The

grave and sober speculations which I am about to submit to your

consideration will, I fear, but poorly compensate those who hear me,

for the graces of elocution, the rich, but chaste imagery, and the

rare felicity of diction by which that gentleman is distinguished; and

I regret on your account, as well as my own, that he has thus

unexpectedly failed to fulfil the wishes of his associates.

[Footnote 1: James McDowell, Esq. of Rockbridge.]

I have thought it would not be unappropriate to the occasion, to

present to the society some views of the influence which philosophy

has exercised, and must continue to exercise, over civilized man.

Amidst the din of political controversy, and the bustling concerns of

life, it is well sometimes to withdraw our thoughts from the

tumultuous scenes around us to the calm views of rational speculation.

Our minds may be not merely refreshed by the change, but they are

likely to acquire elevation and purity in being thus severed from

sordid and selfish pursuits, and made to contemplate human concerns in

the transparent medium of truth and philosophy.

_Philosophy!_ a term to which some attach a mysterious import, as

implying a kind of knowledge unattainable except by a few gifted

minds--whilst others regard it as more an object of aversion than of

affection,--inculcating a system of thought and action equally at war

with nature and common sense,--as a perversion of human reason and

feeling, at once cold and repulsive to others, and profitless to the

possessor. This is not the philosophy of which I propose to speak, but

her counterfeit; which, being as bold and forward as the other is

modest and retiring, has made herself more known to the world than the

character she personates, and has thus brought discredit on the name.

By philosophy, I mean that power of perceiving truths which are not

obvious--of seeing the complicated relations of things, and of seeing

them as they really are, unperverted by passion or prejudice. So far

from being repugnant to nature and common sense, it constantly appeals

to these for the justness of its precepts. It is indeed _Reason_,

exercising its highest attributes in the multifarious concerns of

human life. Such was the philosophy of Newton and Locke, and of our

own illustrious Franklin.

It will be the object of the following remarks to show, that this

philosophy is gradually increasing and diffusing itself over the

world; that it now mingles in all human concerns, and gives to the

present age its distinguishing characteristics; that its progress must

still continue, and more and more influence the character of man and

civilized society; and that in no country is its influence likely to

be more extensively or beneficently felt than in this.

The most superficial observer must be struck with the prodigious

advancement of the human intellect, when he compares the opposite

extremes of society. The savage, when his mind is roused from a state

of apathy, passes into one of strong emotion; for he is capable of

intense feelings, but not of profound and comprehensive thought. He

knows but few facts; and they have not that variety and complexity

which distinguish the knowledge of the civilized man. All that he sees

and hears, is heard and seen by the men of civilization; but to this

the latter is always adding the perception of new and intricate

relations, of which the former is incapable. Thus, compare the

knowledge of the relations of numbers possessed by one who barely

knows how many fives there are in twenty, with that of him who can

mark out the paths of the planets, calculate their mutual attractions,

and predict a distant eclipse to a minute; or the few and simple rules

of justice among a tribe of savages, to the intricate and multifarious

codes of civilized society; nay, extend the comparison to any other

department of human knowledge, and there will be found the same

difference between the two, as exists between the wigwam of mud or

bark, without a door, window or chimney, and the solid and spacious

hall in which we are assembled. Nor is this all; for as the reason, in

common with every other faculty, is strengthened by exercise, the

severer and more incessant exercise to which it is subjected by the

multiplication of new relations, is constantly increasing the

authority of reason, and weakening the dominion of the passions and

prejudices.

The mind therefore becomes, with the progress of civilization, more

capable of perceiving relations--more imbued with a knowledge of these

relations--more comprehensive--more capable of making remote

deductions. It perceives more truths that are complex and

difficult--and has more capacity to detect illusion and error. We thus

see human reason gradually extending its empire, successfully

assailing former prejudice, and fashioning human institutions to

purposes of utility. We see men more and more inclined to value every

object only in proportion as it conduces to the happiness of the

greater number; and to consider nothing as permanently connected with

that happiness, but what gives gratification to the senses without

debasing them; to the intellect without misleading it; and to the

passions when fulfilling their legitimate objects. It is thus we see

each succeeding generation regarding with indifference, and even with

contemptuous ridicule, what commanded the veneration of a former age.

It would exceed the limits of such a discourse as the present to give

even an outline of the advancement of reason, as exhibited in the

various branches of science. Nor is it necessary. It will be

sufficient for us to give our attention to some few striking facts in

the progress of science and art, especially in those cases which being

more recent, are at once better known to us, and have a nearer

relation to our interests. Let us turn to any department of human

knowledge or inquiry, and we see the clearest manifestations of the

growing philosophical spirit of which I speak.

If we look at the character of civil government, we find that every

revolution--every important change--is the result of the progress of

philosophy--of the extension of the empire of reason. Once kings were

regarded as deriving their power not from the consent of the people,

but immediately from the Deity. They were said to be the Lord's

anointed; and implicit obedience--unresisting submission to the

mandate of the sovereign, was enjoined not merely as a civil, but as a

religious duty.

In two out of the four quarters of the world, we all know how much

these opinions are changed; and that there, with the thinking portion

at least, government is now regarded as an institution created solely

for the happiness of the people; that they are the judges of what

constitutes that happiness; and that government may be changed, either

as to its form or agents, whenever it is proved incapable of

fulfilling its main purpose. This principle of reason and common sense

caused and justified the establishment of the Commonwealth in England;

the restoration of the monarchy; the subsequent revolution in 1688;

the American revolution in 1776; the French revolution of 1789, under

all its various phases; and that which produced a change of dynasty in

1830. We have seen the operation of the same principle in separating

the Spanish provinces on this continent from the mother country. We

have seen it in the separation of Belgium from Holland, and in the

liberation of Greece from the Turkish yoke.

Every subordinate institution too, is now judged according as it tends

to promote the welfare of the community; and the notion of rights of

particular classes and orders of men, farther than they can be shown

to rest on this foundation, is deemed presumptuous and absurd. Even

the rights of property itself, the most sacred of any, because they

are the most obvious and are possessed by a greater number, are

derived from the same source, and are regulated and controlled by it.

Every tax in a popular government--every restriction on the free use

of one's own,--whether it be in the form of a prohibition against

gaming, or of laying out a new road, or of an inspection law,

recognizes this principle. It governs legislatures in conferring

rights as well as abridging them. They all find their authority and

justification in the public good; nor does any one now attempt to

resist a tax or defend a privilege, but by appealing to this great

test of right, the interests of the community.

You see too in jurisprudence, that all those principles which grow out

of barbarous usages, or were the result of accident, or of mistaken

theory, are gradually made to give way to the light of reason and the

spirit of philosophy. They conform more and more to the common sense

and common feelings of mankind. Crimes which once incurred the

severest penalties of the law, are crimes no longer; modes of trial

originating in superstition have been abolished; many of the frivolous

niceties of pleading, or rules founded on a state of things which no

longer exist--such as that which excluded written testimony from the

common law courts, and which, like noisome weeds, choked up the

administration of justice, have been eradicated, in spite of the cry

which always will be raised against innovation, and which some of our

best principles, as well as our weakest prejudices, concur in raising.

Nor have we yet reached the end of this course of salutary reform. The

administration of justice may be still more simple; and though the

rules of property and of civil rights must always be numerous and

complicated in a civilized community, yet this necessity furnishes a

further reason why the modes of investigating truth and the rules of

evidence should possess all practicable simplicity. The spirit of

philosophy has been actively at work here. In some instances, perhaps,

it has been too far in advance of the age, and under the influence of

the pride of discovery and reform, or provoked by opposition, it may

have been urged farther than reason and propriety would warrant. It

has, however, arraigned the whole system of judicial evidence, and

endeavored to show that the rules for the examination of contested

facts are so erroneous or defective, that the truth is commonly

discovered better out of court than in it; and that questions about

which all the world is satisfied, when technically examined by

tribunals created purposely for their investigation, either receive no

answer, or a wrong one. The official expounders of the law, partaking

of the liberal spirit of the age, have of late years greatly narrowed

the objections to the competency of witnesses; but it is only the

legislature and public opinion which are adequate to a complete

reform, and they will one day assuredly bring it.

There is much seeming force in many of the other objections of the

reformers to the present very artificial and complicated system of

jurisprudence; but whether their views are satisfactory or otherwise,

they equally serve to show the prevalent disposition of men to bring

all human concerns to the bar of reason, and make them submit to her

decrees.

There is nothing in which the progress of reason and philosophy are

more shown, than in the subject of religion. A large part, perhaps I

may say, the best part of religion, as it is most productive of good

results, is the religion of the heart; and consists in a profound and

thorough sense of the wisdom and beneficence of the Creator--of

thanksgiving for the blessings he has vouchsafed to frail and humble

beings like ourselves--to vigorous self-examinations by our own

conscience--to fervent aspirations after moral excellence in this

life, and a purer and higher state of existence hereafter. But all of

these are impulses of the feelings, rather than the cold dictates of

the reasoning faculty; and being dependant on the laws of our

emotions, which are as unchangeable as our forms, and probably as much

the result of organization, are the same in character, if not in

degree, in every stage of society.

But while philosophy has not altered, and could not alter these

impulses of the heart, we may see here also its benignant operations.

It has driven away from religion the superstitions which fraud and

credulity combined had gathered around it. Man no longer imputes to

the Deity the same violent and ignoble passions by which the baser

part of his own nature is agitated; and instead of regarding cruelty

and vengeance as attributes of the Supreme Being, he is invested with

those qualities which appear to our feeble conceptions more consonant

with divine perfection. Thus mercy to human frailty and pity for human

suffering, are regarded as divine attributes no less than wisdom and

power. On the part of its votaries, humility is invoked to take the

place of pride; forgiveness of injuries to supersede resentment;

meekness and patience and long suffering are held to indicate a truer

devotion than pompous rites and vain ceremonies; and instead of

incense and sacrifices, good deeds to his fellow mortals, and a lowly

and penitent spirit, are deemed the most acceptable offerings which

man can make to his Creator. In this transformation, Mr. President,

you recognize the leading precepts of christianity, which may well be

called the most philosophical of all religions.

It is true that after this religion became the creed of those northern

barbarians, who poured like an avalanche over the south of Europe,

christianity became greatly perverted from its original simplicity and

purity; but it was not destined to remain forever shrouded in these

mists of barbarism. After the growing spirit of philosophy prepared

men's minds for its reception and welcome, it broke forth in its

pristine beauty and splendor. The further continuance of the abuses of

the christian church was inconsistent with the increase of general

intelligence; and the reformation must have taken place had Martin

Luther never existed, or had the Dominican friars never carried on the

traffic in _indulgences_; though it might not have happened at the

precise time, or in the precise manner in which it did occur.

In truth, man's religion, as well as every thing else relative to his

opinions and feelings, partakes of the character of the age; and we

are warranted in saying, that the christian religion in the middle

ages must as necessarily have been subject to its corruptions, its

superstitions, and its persecutions, among a people so rude as that

which then swayed the destinies of Europe, as that after the discovery

of the art of printing, the revival of letters, and the general

progress of science and philosophy, these foul exhalations should

disappear.

It has been supposed, that the spirit of philosophy which has been so

hostile to superstition, is also unfavorable to true religion; and

many, listening to their fears rather than their reason, have readily

yielded to that opinion. But they have been too hasty in drawing

general conclusions from particular facts. It is true that many of the

philosophers of France, and some of those of Great Britain, during the

last century, were not only opposed to the prevailing creeds of their

country, but seemed to have no very fervid religious feelings of any

kind; but they were led first to make war on what they regarded as the

abuses of religion, and then their attacks appear to be levelled

against every thing which bore its name. It is highly probable that,

by a natural process of the mind, from coming to hate the corruptions

of christianity, they felt a prejudice against every thing which was

associated with it. But on the other hand, we have seen some,

occupying the very highest places in the scale of philosophers, who

were sincere and zealous christians. Besides, the present age, which

is the most philosophical the world has ever seen, is also the most

generally and ardently devoted to christianity, as is evinced by the

extraordinary number of Churches, Bible Societies, Missionary

Societies, Sunday Schools, &c. Let then the sincerely devout and pious

dismiss their fears. The foundations of religion are seated in the

very nature and constitution of man; in the deepest recesses of his

heart. It is a want of his moral nature, as indispensable as food to

his physical; and philosophy tends only to separate it from a part of

the dross with which every thing earthly more or less mingles, and to

leave its own pure essence undiminished and untouched.

Let us now pass to the subject of literature, where we shall see the

same evidences of the growing influence of philosophy and reason over

the minds of men. Thus poetry, in its efforts to please and elevate

the mind, by exciting the imagination and feelings, now never

addresses us unattended by philosophy. Her favorite occupation of late

has been to delineate the dispositions and characters of men; to

reveal the secret workings of the passions and the sources of human

sympathy; to exhibit the human mind, in short, under its most

impressive phases. The prevalent taste of the age is for metaphysical

poetry; by which I mean, poetry imbued with philosophy,--poetry which

lays bare the anatomy of the human heart, and discloses all the

springs and machinery by which it is put in play. Those who are gifted

with this beautiful talent, have conformed to the ruling taste, and

their success has been proportionate. It is to this circumstance that

Byron owes part of his popularity; for in exhibiting the most subtle

processes of human passion, its energies and its susceptibilities, he

is superior to any of his predecessors; though in the mere

embellishment of smooth and felicitous diction, and of agreeable and

varied rhythm, or even in the higher attributes of lively imagery and

lofty conception, he can boast of no superiority. Perhaps it would be

more correct to say, that the metaphysical character of his poetry

proceeded not so much from his wish to adapt it to the public taste,

as because he himself partook of the character of his age; that he

wrote metaphysically and philosophically because he spoke and thought

in this way, and he so spoke and thought from the very same causes as

his contemporaries.

This inference is the more warranted, when we find the same tincture

of philosophy in the poetry of his contemporaries,--Southey,

Wordsworth, Campbell and Coleridge.[2] Even Moore infuses into his

amatory poems as much philosophy as the subject will admit, though it

is of the sensual school of Epicurus. Sometimes we see the spirit of

philosophy controlling the poetic spirit, as was the case with

Shelley, Coleridge and some others, in whose poetry the precepts of

philosophy were more obscured by the restraints of verse than aided by

its ornaments. It is an unnatural alliance, and both the poetry and

the philosophy are the worse for the union.

[Footnote 2: The recent poetry of continental Europe exhibits the same

psychological character; as for instance, that of Alfieri and Monte in

Italy, of Goethe and Tieck in Germany, and of Beranger in France.]

In other works of imagination, those intended for the stage, and in

the region of romance, we see the same proofs of the progress of

philosophy. Walter Scott's novels are, throughout, the same

exhibitions of man, whether acting, speaking or thinking, which a

philosopher would take. We are made to see, not by the formality of an

instructor, or the impertinence of a _cicerone_, but by the consummate

fidelity and skill of the representation, every motive and passion of

the actors laid open to our view, and in strict conformity to what we

had often previously observed, though we may not have made it the

special subject of reflection. There never was before so much

philosophy taught by one writer, or taught in so pleasing a mode, or

taught to so many disciples.

Such a gallery of moral pictures could not have been created before

the nineteenth century; and though they had been, they would not have

met with the same unbounded popularity, but, like Milton's Paradise

Lost, would have been in advance of the spirit of the age.

In the drama, the plays of Joanna Baillie, and of Byron, are the most

metaphysical of all dramatic productions--so much so, as to make them

unsuited either to the tastes or capacities of a promiscuous audience.

The tragedies of Voltaire are of a more philosophical character than

those of Racine or Corneille, and these again more philosophical than

the earlier productions of the French drama.

But it is in history that we most clearly perceive the spirit of the

age. Formerly it consisted in little more than a recital of the

actions of princes, public or private; and no occurrence in the annals

of a nation was deemed worthy of commemoration, except battles and

conquests, revolutions and insurrections--with now and then the notice

of a plague, famine, earthquake or other general calamity. Now,

however, the historian aims to make us acquainted with the progress of

society and the arts of civilization; with the advancement or decline

of religion, literature, laws, manners, commerce--every thing indeed,

which is connected with the happiness or dignity of man; he does this,

not only because he deems these subjects more worthy the attention of

an enlarged and liberal mind, but also because we can, from a faithful

narrative of these events, traced out from their causes, and to their

effects, learn the lessons of wisdom--and seeing the approach of evil,

be better able to avert or mitigate it. It is in this spirit that all

history must now be written, to be approved or even read.

In the study of language, we perceive the same evidences of our

intellectual advancement. By arranging the elements of speech

according to the physical organs employed in their utterance, great

light has been thrown on etymology, and in this way, affinities have

been traced, first among languages, and through them among nations

apparently unconnected. And as all language consists of _signs_ of our

mental operations, the general principles of grammar have been sought

in the laws of the mind; while language in turn, has been sometimes

successfully invoked to explain those laws; and thus philology and

mental philosophy have assisted in elucidating each other.

This branch of philosophy (which treats of our mental faculties) has

not indeed made as much progress as many others; for it admits not the

discovery of new facts. But neither has _this_ been stationary. Great

improvements have been made in analyzing its compound states; in

separating its original from its derivative properties; in tracing

many seemingly diverse operations to one simple principle. To be

convinced of this improvement, we have only to regard the theory of

associations as it now is, compared with the slight and vague notice

of it by Locke; or advert to the opinions of the same eminent man on

the foundation of morals. He maintained that there was no original

propensity in mankind to approve one action as virtuous, and another

as vicious; and that there was no practical principle which was

approved or condemned by all nations. He even denied that parental

affection, the strongest feeling in the maternal bosom, was an

original feeling. He refers to the inventions of travellers in support

of his theory, and was as credulous of the anomalous facts they

related, as he was skeptical of innate propensities. Thus he says: "It

is familiar among the Mingrelians, a people professing christianity,

to bury their children alive without scruple; he asserts that the

Caribbees were wont to fat and eat their own children;" and that a

people of Peru who followed this practice, used, when by the course of

nature they no longer had a prospect of more children to eat, "to kill

and eat the mothers."

A more intimate acquaintance with the people of this globe, and juster

modes of reasoning, have dissipated these illusions; and if I mistake

not, the laws of the mind will, in no distant day, be traced with an

accuracy and precision little inferior to those which prevail in most

branches of physics.

In the science of political economy too, we see the advance of the

light of philosophy. The errors which were the result of general and

deep-rooted prejudices, have yielded to the force of reason; and all

enlightened men now agree that nothing is so injurious to national

prosperity as too much regulation; and that the desire which mankind

have to increase their means of enjoyment, operates more unceasingly,

and sagaciously, and beneficially, than any schemes of the government,

however vigilant, intelligent and free from bias; since governments at

best can operate only by general rules, which injure some in

benefiting others,--while the sagacity of individuals, with few

exceptions, devises the best rules for each particular case.

It was for philosophy also to discover the connection between good

government and the national prosperity, and that a community will have

the most industry, skill and thrift, where property is best

protected--where every one can freely exercise his talents or his

capital, and securely enjoy the fruits they have yielded. Philosophy,

or unprejudiced reason, if you prefer it, also refuted an error once

prevalent, that one country, or one part of a country, was injured by

another's welfare; and proved both by reasoning and example, that

every accession of wealth or prosperity, experienced by one portion,

radiates light and heat to all around it.

If the progress of philosophy, or human reason, has done so much in

the moral sciences, it has done yet more in the physical branches of

knowledge for the material world--more invites our attention and

speculation--is more within the reach of experiment, and the benefits

it confers are more direct and obvious. It would be foreign to my

purpose, if I were competent to the task, to mark the steps by which

man has passed from conjecture to certainly--from rash hypothesis to

theories founded on cautious observation and experiment--from

inquiries which, if successful, had only gratified curiosity, to

discoveries and improvements immediately conducive to the benefits of

society. To enable us to appreciate the advance of science, it is

sufficient for us to look at what the condition of man now _is_,

compared with what it _was_.

In whatever direction we turn our eyes, we behold some triumph of mind

over matter. We cannot see a ship, a book, a gun, a watch--scarcely

the commonest implement or utensil--without being made sensible of the

wonders achieved by human science and art,--the result of the combined

efforts of a thousand minds and ten thousand hands, embodied in a form

that has added incalculably to man's power and enjoyment. If we take

the departments of knowledge separately, we are filled with admiration

at the labor by which it has climbed, and the elevation it has

attained. Astronomy, not content with teaching us the motions of the

planets and moons of our system, and by them, enabling us to traverse

the pathless ocean with the certainty with which we travel by land--of

itself a glorious achievement of science--now undertakes to estimate

the weight and density of these bodies--their influence on one

another--of the smallest on the largest--the flight of comets, and

even some of the changes of position in the stars themselves. Optics

has taught us new laws of light, and has subjected the most subtle and

the most rapid body in nature to measurements, of as much certainty as

the gross portions of matter. We now know the weight, density,

motions, elasticity of the air we breathe, and which encompasses the

earth; the laws of sound--its velocity, force, repercussion, musical

tone. By electricity, magnetism, galvanism, are revealed to us new

fluids of the existence of which we did not formerly dream. Their laws

have been investigated with all the accuracy, acuteness and unwearied

diligence which belongs to modern science; and though this branch of

physics is every day receiving new accessions, it already forms a

copious science of itself. While yet in the full career of discovery,

it affords persuasive evidence of the close affinity if not identity

of light, heat, magnetism, electricity and galvanism.

The progress of chemistry, shows us the growth of the human intellect

in its numerous useful results. In the power it has acquired over

brute matter, it has added infinitely to our means of comfort or

enjoyment, by improving the useful arts of husbandry, metallurgy,

dying, bleaching, tanning, brewing and medicine. Some of these

improvements have, indeed, been the effect of accident; but many, nay

the most of them, have been the result of human inquiry and sagacity.

And the _atomic theory_, which gives us an insight into some of the

primary laws of matter, is a pure deduction of reason.

By chemical discoveries, useful processes which once required months,

or even years, are now effected in a few days. The chemist has found

means to separate one of several properties from a drug, so that its

medicinal effect may be undiminished and unaffected by other combined

properties originally with it. Light, which formerly was furnished

only by the valuable substances of wax, tallow, spermaceti or oil, has

been supplied of a better quality, from the cheapest and most abundant

objects in nature; and these improvements are but the precursors of

the more splendid retinue which are hereafter destined to make their

appearance. This science gives us assurance that all those substances

which are most indispensable to man, because they repair the waste

which is unceasingly going on in his bodily frame, are dispersed in

boundless profusion throughout the universe, but under forms and

combinations which conceal them from our unassisted senses; and that

it may be within the scope of human art to separate those which are

nutritious, and assimilate with our system, from those that are of a

noxious or neutral character, and thus to modify the law which has

hitherto limited the numbers of mankind. It is now thought whatever

vegetable substances can be made soluble can be made digestible, in

proof of which, a German chemist[3] has already succeeded in

converting ligneous substances into wholesome aliment; and it has long

been known that sugar may be made by a similar chemical conversion.

What would have been the transmutation for which the alchemist of

former days consumed so many anxious days and sleepless nights,

compared with these? Gold owes its extraordinary value to its

scarcity, and had the adept succeeded in making it at pleasure, he

would have lessened its value in the same proportion as he increased

the quantity. If he could have converted copper into gold, the gold

would have been worth no more than the copper, except for the expense

of the transmutation. And if society had gained some advantage in

being able to substitute it for metals that are liable to rust, yet it

would have lost as much by the destruction of its property of

containing great value in a small bulk, and its consequent unfitness

to perform the functions of money.

[Footnote 3: Professor Autenrieth of Tubingen.]

It is not improbable that some of these splendid visions of science

may never be realized: but then other discoveries and improvements may

take place of equal and greater importance; and should those hopes be

verified, would they exhibit a greater triumph of art than has been

witnessed in our day? they are certainly not more beyond the bounds of

seeming probability than balloons, and diving bells, and rail roads,

would have appeared to a former age.

The most extravagant fancy in which the man of science has indulged

would scarcely exceed the wonders now wrought by steam, whether we

consider the simplicity of the means, or the magnitude of the results.

When in every vessel of heated water mankind had always seen a vapor

arise, who could have supposed that in this simple fact, nature had

furnished an agent, which by skilfully managing, he could multiply his

natural strength a thousand fold, and move from place to place with

the swiftness of a bird? By the alternate production and condensation

of this vapor, which he is able to do by the very common agents of

fire and water, he is able to extract the ponderous minerals from the

bowels of the earth, having made it previously drain off the water

which put them out of his reach. By the same power he fashions the

metal he has made, into bars, or sheets, or rods, according to his

various purposes. By it he performs all those operations which require

incessant action as well as preterhuman strength; and thus it is made

to spin and weave, to saw and bore and plane. By this he grinds his

flour, cuts and polishes marble, prints newspapers, and transfers both

himself and his commodities from place to place, by land or by water,

with a rapidity which had existed only in the creations of an eastern

imagination; and what is no less admirable, with a diminution of

fatigue equal to the increase of speed.

The kindred sciences of geology and mineralogy have undergone the same

improvements as that of chemistry. And by a course of inductive

reasoning, founded on careful observation, the changes which the outer

crust of our earth, to the small comparative extent that we are able

to penetrate it, have been most satisfactorily shown, and referred to

their several chemical or mechanical agents. It has also afforded data

from which important facts in the history of organized beings have

been deduced, and thus it has shed a light on a branch of knowledge

from which it seemed most remote. The notion which once prevailed,

that no species of animals is extinct, has been incontestibly

disproved; and it has shown not only that there were many species

which not only do not now exist, but which could not subsist in the

present state of the world. Where important facts have not been

discovered by human reason, we see its power exerted in profiting by

those which accident has suggested; as in Galvani's discovery and that

of Haüy in crystallography, of vaccination and many others.

Of all the branches of human knowledge there is no one which sooner

exercised the understandings of men than that of medicine, first as a

practical art, and then as a science, as there is none to which he is

impelled by stronger motives; and accordingly we find it practised by

a separate clan, in some of the rudest nations. Yet long and

diligently as it has been cultivated, it has made prodigious advances

of late years, and human reason has here too achieved its accustomed

triumphs. In the surgical branch diseases are cured every day, often

too by young and inexperienced operators, that were once deemed

immedicable, and often proved fatal. The materia medica has been

improved both by happy accidents, and the scientific labors of the

chemist--and the science, trusting only to cautious observation and

experiment, has profited as much by what it has rejected from the

catalogue of sanative remedies, as what it has added. Reason has here

taken the place of superstition and blind credulity, and few

prescriptions are now made on purely empirical grounds. We have the

most conclusive evidence of the advance of the medical science, in the

greater average length of life now, compared with former periods. It

has in England increased in 31 years from 1 in 33 to 1 in 58. A

similar increase has been found to have taken place in every nation of

Europe. In Great Britain, France and Germany, the average increase has

been from 1 in 30 to 1 in 38 in less than two generations. And if a

part of this melioration may be attributed to the moral improvement of

men, to the greater wealth and comfort of a greater number, the

diminution of intemperance and other vices, a part also seems fairly

attributable to the medical science; but in either way it attests the

progress of reason and philosophy.

The progress of those sciences which exercise no other faculty but the

reason, also attest the increase and vigor of the human faculties.

Algebra is not only more generally cultivated than in a former age,

but it is now applied to every species of regular form and motion that

matter can assume, and has thus reached conclusions which seemed

unattainable by human skill; and the calculus which one generation

readily performs, was scarcely intelligible to that which preceded it.

Even our most familiar and household concerns show the increased

influence of reason over our actions. The dress of both sexes is more

conformable to nature than formerly, and less biassed by caprice and

arbitrary or accidental forms. I need only, by way of proof, refer to

hair powder and buckles, and the tight ligatures which once bound our

limbs or bodies, but bind them no longer. Forms have been discarded or

abridged and made subservient to convenience--our modes of eating,

drinking and sleeping--all the ordinary habits of social life prove

the growing ascendancy of reason over habit and prejudice. Though in

all of these we may occasionally see some retrograde steps.

The more philosophical spirit of modern, compared with ancient times,

is illustrated by what was then considered as the seven wonders of the

world. They boasted of magnitude or costliness--of some enormous

expenditure of human labor in a pyramid, a statue or temple, which was

fitted to make a strong impression on the senses. But what are the

objects which now fill men's minds with admiration and astonishment?

They are such as are addressed to their powers of reflection--great

moral changes like the American or French revolutions; the liberation

of Greece or of Spanish America; or if they be of a physical

character, then they are of some successful effort of science and art

which directly conduces to the benefit of mankind; such, for instance,

as the application of steam to manufactures and navigation--the New

York Canal, the Manchester Rail Road, and the Thames Tunnel. These,

and such as these, are the world's wonders in our day.

Such then, Mr. President, is the character of the changes which the

mind of man has wrought on physical nature, as well as in the

improvement of his own condition; and these in turn have effected an

immense change in the character of his mind. _He has become less

subjected to the dominion of his senses and more to that of his

reason._ He is necessarily made to perceive an infinite number of new

and intricate relations, which the progress of knowledge and

civilization are ever adding to those which previously existed, and

his reasoning faculties have acquired strength in proportion to their

exercise. From particular facts he is continually deducing general

laws; and from those general laws, laws still more comprehensive. The

consequence of which is, that the elaborate deductions of one age

become the obvious truths of that which succeeds it, and each

succeeding generation is more capable of intricate processes of

reasoning than its predecessor.

In the same proportion too, as reason acquires strength, the dominion

of the passions becomes weaker. They are less likely to be excited by

unworthy causes, and less violent when excited. Reason obviously tends

to prevent those mental perturbations which arise from false views of

things, as from mistaken notions of right--from the exaggerations of

future good or evil, and wrong estimates of their probability. Many

objects which a more ignorant age has deemed important, the light of

philosophy exhibits in their real insignificance. And in addition to

all these direct causes, it seems not improbable that our minds being

now so much more occupied in noticing causes and effects, and other

important relations, will be less prone to strong emotions, except so

far as they may have the sanction of reason. Let me not be understood

to favor the dream of some speculatists, that philosophy will ever

eradicate the passions. This result is neither possible nor desirable.

It is in their proper indulgence that consists all that is called

either happiness or virtue, and all that deserves to be so considered

by a moral and intellectual being. They are

"The lights and shades, whose well-accorded strife

Gives all the strength and color of our life."

The passions have been aptly compared to the winds which impel the

ship on the ocean of life,[4] but reason performs higher functions

than "the card." It sits at the helm, and guides the course of the

bark when the gale is not too strong, and takes in sail when it is.

[Footnote 4: On life's vast ocean diversely we sail,

Reason the card, but passion is the gale.--_Pope_.]

One of the consequences of this growing ascendancy of reason is, that

there will be less inequality in the civil condition of mankind; and

happy are they whose political institutions enable them to accommodate

themselves to the change, without going through the process of blood

and violence. Whatever may be the advantages, real or supposed, of a

difference of ranks, the institution originated in accident, and is

supported by illusions, which natural enough in a certain stage of

society, the light of philosophy tends to dissipate; and as ghosts,

witches and other shadows of the night have vanished at the

approaching dawn of reason, the further progress of day will

extinguish hereditary rank, which, when it does not, like faux-fire,

shine by its own corruption, emits an ineffectual ray at best.

If the preceding views are correct, it would follow that in our

reasonings from the past to the future we must take these changes of

the human character into account, and if we do, that they would

sometimes lead us to expect different results hereafter from those

which formerly took place under similar circumstances. The failure to

make allowance for these changes, has produced much groundless

_apprehension_, much _mistaken confidence_, and much _false

vaticination_.

In thus speaking of the gradual progress of reason and philosophy, I

do not mean to say that the advancement is uninterrupted. Far from it.

Though the tide may be rising, each individual wave does not always

reach as far as that which preceded it: so man, in his onward progress

to a higher state of existence, does occasionally make oblique and

even retrograde steps. By the influence of those prejudices which have

not yet been dislodged from their strong holds--under the sway of our

passions, which indeed may be regulated, but can never be

extinguished, reason for awhile succumbs and philosophy disappears.

Thus, in the Reformation, the struggle between those who sought to get

rid of the ancient abuses, and those who endeavored to maintain them,

was accompanied with ferocity, cruelty and injustice; and men were

often hated and persecuted in proportion to their sincerity in avowing

their real sentiments, and their firmness in maintaining them. Then

too, we beheld those who had been the victims of oppression, when

power changed hands, becoming persecutors in turn; and this, not on

the principle of retaliation, but because the new persecutors were

impelled by the same blind fury as their predecessors, in regarding a

mere difference of opinion as synonymous with crime.

Philosophy had not then advanced far enough to teach them that men

were responsible only to their own conscience and their God for their

modes of faith; and that punishment tended to make hypocrites of the

bad and martyrs of the good, but converts of none. They had yet to

learn that the unadulterated common sense of that portion of mankind,

who were less frenzied by zeal, revolted at such injustice; and that

their sympathies acted more powerfully in favor of the sufferer, than

their fears in favor of their persecutors; a truth which has suggested

the maxim that "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church."

The French revolution also furnished a signal instance of the

retrograde steps of philosophy. The oppressions, the injustice, the

absurdities of the French monarchy, and above all, the incongruities

of many of its institutions with the state of knowledge and of private

society in France, could not be corrected without calling forth all

the strongest impulses of our nature--the worst passions of the worst

men, as well as the nobler feelings of the best. The advanced state of

reason and philosophy among the educated classes, acting on the sense

of justice, indelibly stamped on the heart of man, made the mass of

the nation see and feel the odium of their civil institutions, and

determined them to attempt a remedy. They were prompted in their

schemes, and quickened in their sensibility by the superior social

condition of their neighbors, the English, and yet more by the

American revolution and its happy issue. Before this great event,

their notice of the defects or abuses of their government was confined

to philosophical speculatists--to rhetorical declaimers--or to those

who wielded the lighter, but no less efficient weapons of ridicule--to

all of whom many of those classes who most profited by the existing

abuses, bowing to the resistless force of truth, and not foreseeing

the danger to themselves, gave their cordial support. Public opinion

was thus gradually gaining strength and unanimity; and when accident

afforded a favorable occasion for the _reformers_ to act, every one

was astonished at the rapidity and force with which they acted. But

there were strong interests and passions arrayed on the other side,

and the shock of the conflict was violent in proportion.

As soon as the cry of reform and change was sounded, every furious and

ignoble passion--every sordid and profligate and depraved motive,

hoping to profit by the confusion, entered into the strife, and

corrupted the whole mass. Then it was that in the heart of

Christendom, we saw a city, associated in our minds with every

refinement of civilization--the emporium of science, literature and

the arts--suddenly transformed into a moral desert. The annals of

mankind had recorded no such metamorphosis. To the _senses_ indeed,

all the monuments of science and art and social improvement remained,

but they seemed to belong to other times. Every thing relative to the

human character was forcibly overturned, or wrested from its natural

position. Women without humanity or timidity, at one moment braving

death, and at another thirsting for blood. Science and practical art

employed in devising new modes of taking away life. Statesmen and

legislators engrossed by the one great subject of how they might

exterminate citizens no less than foreign enemies. Speculative minds

racking their inventions to frame excuses for these enormities, or in

making frivolous changes in the names of streets and provinces--of the

months and days--while _Religion_, finding nothing congenial to her

own mildness and purity, fled from the country, and the infuriated

multitude hallooed and exulted in her retreat: and in the metropolis

of fashion, which had given the laws of dress to all Europe, and one

of whose most distinguished literati[5] had asserted that the apparel

was a part of the man, an attention to outward appearance was deemed

presumptive evidence of aristocracy. Nor was there a more certain mode

of awakening suspicion of _incivism_, than to seem to be devout, or

moral, or gentlemanly, unless these obnoxious qualities were redeemed

by some accompaniment of crime.

[Footnote 5: The Count de Buffon.]

There have been those who would make philosophy responsible for these

extravagances and excesses, because it had been assiduously cultivated

in Paris, just before the Revolution, and some of its maxims were

appealed to in justification of the excesses. But nothing can be more

unjust. There was mingled with the enlightened part of the Paris

population, a far larger portion which was immersed in the grossest

ignorance. They had been brought up as it were in a prison house, into

which the surrounding light of heaven could never penetrate; and, when

set free from the restraints of law, they were powerful instruments of

mischief in the hands of those who were at once skilful and

unscrupulous in using them. There were also those who partook of the

intellectual light of the age, but who from a faulty education, or

accident, or the unjust institutions of society had not proportional

moral improvement--men who saw the inequality with which the goods of

life were distributed; that those who had the smallest share were the

most numerous; and that they might be prompted to the inclination, as

they already had the ability, to be their own carvers. An alliance was

thus formed between cunning and ignorance--the cunning few and

ignorant many--and no wonder that in a short time, all that was

venerable and virtuous and generous, as well as all that had been

tyrannical and oppressive, were furiously assailed and beaten to the

ground. The progress of knowledge had no other agency in producing

this result, than that a portion of society borrowed its _intellectual

light_ without approaching near enough to profit by its _moral

warmth_: and it is as unreasonable to blame philosophy for these

outrages, as to blame religion for the bloody massacres and merciless

persecutions which were perpetrated in her name. With far greater

reason may the moderation observed by the mob of Paris, in the three

day revolution of 1830, be ascribed to the influence of the liberal

and philosophical spirit, which had been gaining ground throughout the

civilized world, and particularly in France for twenty years before:

and it deserves notice, that this moderation, as well as the occasion

on which it would be exercised, was confidently predicted in this

country, by a French gentleman,[6] now enjoying an elevated rank in

France; and he founded his prediction on the improved character of the

population of Paris.

[Footnote 6: General Bernard, whose anticipations of the leading

events of that revolution, in a conversation with the author, had all

the accuracy of history.]

Having thus taken a view of the past effects of the progress of

philosophy, let us now look before us, and endeavoring to scan the

future, learn what are hereafter to be its effects on the world,

especially on that portion of it, in which we are most interested.

We are sometimes reproached with being more disposed to look at what

our country will be, than at what it is; but when the changes are so

rapid and great, we should not only betray a strange insensibility to

our future destiny, but be grossly wanting in prudence, not to keep

the fact constantly present to our minds. It should affect our policy,

legislation, and even our individual contracts and schemes of profit;

and while we do not object to other nations seeing, in the mirror of

the past, interesting memorials of their former glory, they may suffer

us to look at ours, through the prism of hope, in which objects are a

little distorted without being exaggerated, and appear in hues

delightfully gay and diversified. Let us see then how the certain

progress of population, and the probable progress of reason and

philosophy are likely to affect us.

Of the rapid advancement of the United States in numbers, powers and

wealth, we have now a moral certainty. After the lapse of forty years,

we have seen that their population continues to double at the rate

which Franklin long ago assumed, and we have full confirmation of the

views taken by Malthus more than thirty years ago, and by Franklin

long before him, that mankind continue thus to increase where the

means of subsistence are easy. There will hardly be any change in this

particular here, before our numbers have reached 60 persons to a

square mile. Perhaps when we consider the remarkable fertility of the

larger part, not before we have reached 100: but with the former

limit, our country would contain 100 millions of inhabitants, in three

periods of doubling, or in 75 years. Some doubts have been entertained

whether our future increase will not diminish in an increasing ratio;

and a very general error as to the rate of increase, exhibited at the

last census, has favored that opinion. But in point of fact, the

increase for the ten years ending in 1830, was a fraction more than 34

per cent., instead of a fraction more than 33 per cent., as our

almanacs and other periodicals have stated, because they did not

attend to the fact, that the last census shewed the increase only for

nine years and ten months. This result is so unexampled and so great,

that it requires an effort for us to conceive its reality; yet it

rests upon as satisfactory grounds as any future event whatever: and

it is not a remote improbability, that some who now hear me will live

to see our population amount to 100 millions.

For our political organization we have nothing to desire, if our

present government continues. The self-healing power, which more or

less pervades all bodies, politic as well as natural, has unrestricted

vigor here, and may be expected to bring an adequate remedy for every

political disease likely to arise.

But one of the evils apprehended by some, is a dissolution of the

Union; and it is asked, if this has already been seriously threatened,

how will it be when the sources of collision and rivalship shall be

multiplied--when all fear of foreign aggression, which now operates as

a band to keep us together, shall be removed--when personal ambition

shall seek, by a separation, that field for its enterprises which the

Union does not afford--and the natural increase of an indigent and

ignorant class shall furnish him with ready tools for his selfish

projects?

But I do not see the probability that the proud hopes, which dictated

a perpetual league among the states, are to be disappointed. It seems

to me that the occasions in which their interests clash are few,

compared with those in which they coincide, and that one of the

strongest ligaments of union is the diversity of pursuits among the

states, by which they are all benefited by a free commercial

intercourse. Thus, some produce grain and cattle, others, fish, or

sugar, or rice and cotton: some are exclusively agricultural in their

pursuits, and are of course venders of raw produce, whilst others are

manufacturing states, and purchasers of raw produce: some are largely

concerned in navigation, whilst others are inland. Thus all are

gainers by an interchange of their respective commodities and species

of industry; and this mutual commerce, founded in mutual interests,

will less and less require aid from the government.

We may, moreover, reasonably expect, that these sources of mutual

benefit and intercourse will increase, and that new products of

agriculture and manufactures will arise under some propitious accident

or kindness of nature, will extend the mutual dependence of the

states, and proportionally multiply the bonds of union. Each state

will be important to the rest for its useful products, and they in

turn will be valuable to it, both for affording a market, and for the

products they give in exchange. The commerce, too, will be the more

profitable, and likely to be the more extensive, by its being free

from imposts or vexatious restrictions. Under the fostering care of

this freedom, we may expect that wine, and silk, and the olive may be

added to the products of the south--and that whenever labor shall fall

to the point of merely earning a subsistence, tea may be also

cultivated; as no doubt some part of our country is similar in climate

to China, since it is not only in a correspondent latitude, but on the

same side of its continent.

The time will come when most of our manufactures can be procured from

the northern or middle states cheaper than from Europe, and when those

states will also furnish a larger market for the products of the

south. The time has already come when cotton, and rice, and tobacco,

if that pernicious weed shall always constitute one of man's

artificial wants, can be procured more cheaply from the southern

states than elsewhere; and though there is not, within the present

limits of the United States, as much land adapted to the cane as will

supply its future inhabitants with sugar, without that increase of

price which must greatly diminish its rate of consumption, yet the

trade in this useful commodity will not therefore be less important,

either to the states which sell, or those which purchase it.

This commercial intercourse will be greatly extended by the numerous

canals and rail roads, which are destined to intersect our country in

every direction. By the greater cheapness of transportation, the

commerce will be extended, not only because more distant points will

be brought into connection, but also because there will be a greater

number of articles which may be advantageously transported. All the

canals and rail roads from one state to another, which shall be

sufficiently used to compensate for their construction, will be so

many sinews to knit together our wide spread and diversified republic.

New York and Pennsylvania have already thus bound themselves to the

west. Maryland and Virginia, and, without doubt, Georgia and the

Carolinas, will follow the example.

When we shall be thus connected by the golden chain of mutual

interests instead of the iron fetters of power, and by that

homogeneousness of manners which an increased intercourse will

produce, what will be likely to effect a separation? Let us suppose

any state, considering itself aggrieved by some measure of the federal

government, was to withdraw herself from the confederacy, and that the

other states were to acquiesce in her course, either because they felt

no interest in the matter, or because they were willing to surrender

up those interests to a claim of right. It can scarcely be doubted

that such seceding state would find the disadvantages of its new

situation so great, surrounded by rival and hostile and taunting

neighbors--attended with so much contingent danger and certain

expense, that after the first irritation had passed away, it would sue

to be re-admitted.

But when it is recollected that, in no distant day, every state will

either be an outlet for other states to the ocean, or the medium of

communication for those lying on each side of it, it would be

according to all experience to presume that they will not regard a

question thus directly affecting their _interests_, as one also

affecting their _rights_, and will vindicate both, by an appeal to

force, if necessary: and thus the question of _separation_ will always

be a question of _war_. The _constitutional_ question, which may have

been previously agitated, will be drowned in the din and tumult of

arms, and finally decided by the issue of the war. _Victory_ is the

great arbiter of right in national disputes, and that scale of justice

on which she happens to light, is almost sure to preponderate.

I have been supposing the case of a single state, or even a small

section of states to desire a separation. But it may be asked whether

all the states may not voluntarily consent to a dissolution; or at

least so large a portion as to make resistance on the part of the rest

hopeless. I answer that I am not able to conceive any such general and

powerful cause, nor do I know of any example of a similar voluntary

disseverance in history. In every case in which an integral community,

whether consolidated or confederate, has been separated, it has been

by violence, and commonly external violence--either by one nation,

subjugating another, or by some successful leader succeeding by his

arts and talents in arraying one part against the rest: or the parts

of a great empire have been partitioned among the descendants or

legatees of the last occupant--none of which causes of separation can

be expected to operate here. It is indeed a conceivable thing for some

prominent and popular individual to excite a particular state to

discontent, and finally to civil war; and although we have happily had

no example of such flagitiousness, we have seen enough to make us

think it possible: yet whatever may be the supposed success of such

men at home, there will always be many counteractions to their

influence in the adjoining states, and in the same degree that the

agitator is a popular idol in his own state, he will be an object of

suspicion in the adjoining states, who will judge of him by his

actions, unaffected by his arts or the imposing lustre of his personal

qualities.

Our own past history affords some confirmation of these views. It is,

for example, now seen, since the veil which once concealed the acts of

the Hartford Convention, has been partially raised, that the power of

the agents in that combination to separate the union was far less than

had been supposed, and that they could not have led on the states

there represented to make that shew of resistance to the general

government which excited apprehensions for the union, if they had

professed any other than the moderate and legitimate objects of making

their peculiar interests more respected, and of providing additional

guards against the invasion of those interests in the time to come. It

now appears, that however we may disapprove the _means_ used to

effectuate their objects, the _ends_ were blameless; and there is much

reason to believe that the moment the separation of the states had

shewn itself to be the ultimate object of their leaders, that moment

they would have been deserted by the larger part of their followers.

The case of him whose history has been so pregnant of instruction to

lawless ambition, and who eighteen years ago was arraigned in this

very capitol for the highest of all crimes, affords another

instructive example. So long as his object was believed to be the

settlement of the Washita lands, he may have ranked among his

followers the most honest and patriotic of the land. So long as he

merely proposed to emancipate the Mexicans from the Spanish yoke, the

generous and enterprising youth of the west, as unsuspicious of guile

in others as they were incapable of it themselves, might have flocked

to his standard, and even gloried in the act of self-devotion: but no

sooner was it known that the infatuated man was pursuing the phantom

of individual aggrandizement, at the expense of his country's peace

and in violation of her laws, than he was "left alone in his glory."

Most of his followers abandoned him from principle, and the few who

were without principle, deserted him from cowardice. It is peculiarly

gratifying that both of these examples so strikingly exhibit the

attachment of the American people to the union, as it will probably be

only in one or the other of these modes that its integrity will ever

be assailed.

The event by which the union was still more seriously threatened, has

been too recent for me to say much of it on the present occasion. Yet

I may be permitted to remark, without opening wounds hardly yet

cicatrized, that both those who apprehend disunion and those who dread

consolidation may draw salutary lessons from that event; and that each

party may, by a course of imprudence, promote the very evil of which

it is most apprehensive. I will add, that it affords additional

evidence of the strength of the ligaments which bind us together, for

if those who felt themselves aggrieved by the general government, had

been less sensible of the _value_--of the _necessity_ of the

union--then the master pilot,[7] who at the critical moment seized the

helm, and steered the ship of state through the breakers that

threatened her on either side, had interposed his consummate skill in

vain.

[Footnote 7: Henry Clay, who was thus thrice mainly instrumental in

giving peace to his country.]

But when it is considered that the continuance of the union is

indispensable to our peace, prosperity, and civil liberty--that on it

rest our hopes of national greatness, it would hardly seem consistent

with prudence to rely altogether on the natural securities I have

mentioned. We should also sedulously guard against whatever may tend

to weaken our attachment to it; and should therefore confine the

functions of the general government to those objects which are most

indispensable to the prosperity of the whole, and to which the powers

of the separate governments are incompetent. And while it should

exercise no power which was not clearly beneficial, as well as

constitutional, it should forbear to exercise such powers as come

under this description, when they may prove sources of discontent, or

of collision with local feelings and interests. The advantages of such

a course will be to give the federal government greater efficacy in

the execution of its remaining powers, and especially in our foreign

concerns; and it will afford us the best security, not only against

disunion, but the opposite danger of consolidation. The continuance of

our present complex system of government--the only one in which the

highest degree of civil liberty can be reconciled with the greatest

extent of territory--depends on its maintaining a just equipoise

between the general government and the governments of the separate

states; and that equipoise may be disturbed no less by enlarging the

capacity of conferring favors than that of doing mischief--of

appealing to the hopes no less than to the fears of the community.

There is another safeguard against both disunion and consolidation, to

be found in the diffusion of instruction among all classes of people;

to which object all the states have given encouragement. Besides the

general moral effects which such mental culture is found to produce,

wherever it has been tried, it will make the mischiefs of a single

national government or of several disunited governments, which are

already so obvious to those who have reflection and forecast,

intelligible to all. The diffusion of intelligence will operate

advantageously to the same end in another way. It will raise the

self-respect and honest pride of the indigent classes, and these

sentiments afford the best security against an over-crowded population

and its deleterious consequences, for they naturally tend to raise the

ordinary standard of comfort, and the higher _that_ is, the sooner do

the checks to improvident marriages begin to operate.

Supposing our federal union to be thus enduring, the progress of

philosophy may be expected to continue with our advancement in numbers

and wealth, and to exhibit itself in the increased vigor of the

reasoning faculties; the greater purity of religion; the better

government of the passions; an enlarged dominion over physical nature;

a deeper insight into the multifarious laws of mind and matter; and a

general amelioration of our condition, social, intellectual, and

moral. But dangers and evils are apprehended by some, when we shall

have a large class of manufacturers. This must eventually be the

condition of the greater part of the population of every civilized

country, since in no other way can the greater part of a dense

population find employment. A small proportion of the community is

sufficient to cultivate the soil, especially with so fertile a

territory as the greater part of the United States; and the rest must

be employed in manufactures, or starve. Besides, the products of this

species of industry are as essential to our comfort and enjoyment, if

not to our subsistence, as raw produce. We must have clothes,

furniture, utensils, and books, as well as food: and when our numbers

shall be sufficiently great to consume the whole of our raw produce,

as in time it certainly will be, we shall cease to export; and the

great mass of its consumers here, must fulfil the inevitable ultimate

destiny of man--he must labor for his subsistence, either in tilling

the earth, or in giving to its products some new form, which by

ministering to the wants of others, may enable him to satisfy his own.

The people of the United States must therefore become a manufacturing

people, as well as their progenitors, and that too at no very remote

period. At present, most of our citizens are agriculturists, because

they find a ready sale for their redundant products; but while it may

be easy to obtain a market for the surplus produce of fourteen

millions of people, it may not be equally easy to find a vent abroad

for the products of the one hundred millions before spoken of; or even

of the fifty millions which our numbers will certainly reach in less

than another half century. It must be recollected that while we

increase at the rate of three per cent. per annum, our customers do

not increase beyond the rate of one per cent., and some scarcely

increase at all. Those therefore, who will be thus spared from

agriculture, must be employed in manufactures.

The political effects of so large a class of manufacturers in our

country, has suggested two very opposite theories. According to one,

the influence of property will be increased by the change; according

to the other, its rights will be endangered. The advocates of the

first opinion say, that capital has the same relation to manufactures

that land has to agricultural labor; for it is only large capitals

that can be advantageously employed in the principal manufactures; and

that the laborers in both species of industry, will feel their

dependence on their employers. It will therefore happen that the votes

given immediately by the laboring class, will be substantially the

votes of the rich landlord or capitalist.

But on the other hand, it has been apprehended, and not without some

show of reason, that the working class, having the power in their own

hands, by the preponderance of numbers, need only to act in concert,

to control the course of legislation. It is further urged, that if the

means of popular instruction can become general, or though that should

be found impracticable, if the intelligence of the community should

increase with the progress of society, that this class will more

readily feel its power, have stronger inducements to exercise it, and

be better able to devise the means. Admitting concerted action

practicable, as it would be obviously desirable, what, it is asked, is

to hinder these men from ridding themselves of their proportion of the

taxes?--of appropriating to themselves the property of the rich by

various legislative devices, as in limiting the prices of provisions,

in planning expensive schemes in which the utility would be

exclusively to themselves, or not in proportion to the cost,--or even

in some moment of madness and reckless injustice, of passing an

Agrarian law? It is vain to urge that as such a violation of the

rights of property would have the ultimate effect of injuring all

classes, or at least a far greater number than it would benefit, it is

contrary to the general instinct of self interest to suppose the

greater portion of the community would pursue it; for these remote

interests might not be perceived, and though they were, they would not

prevail against the force of present temptation.

But the argument assumes that there will be a majority of the

community who will feel a present interest in such violations of the

rights of property, and this proposition may well be questioned. In

our country, where industry and capital are free to exercise

themselves in any way, there will always be a gradation of classes

from the richest to the poorest, so as to make the line which

separates them an imperceptible one. We have no political

institutions, and few prejudices to make such a separation. Every one

is estimated according to his individual merits, little affected by

those of his ancestors: and although somewhat of the honor or

discredit of parents attaches to the child, yet it is probably little

more than is warranted by the presumption that there is a resemblance

between them. We are not distinguished into castes as in India, where

one portion of society engrosses all the more honorable and agreeable

employments of life, and the other is allotted to its most irksome and

debasing offices; nor into Patrician and Plebeian, as in Rome; nor

into lords and commons, as in England; nor _noblesse_ and _canaille_,

as formerly in France and the rest of Europe; distinctions which at

once provoke combination and make it more practicable.

Nor is the indigent class likely to be as large in this country as in

most others. Our institutions, in many ways, favor both the

acquisition and the diffusion of property. In the first place, by

their being more exempt from restrictions. No trade or occupation is

fettered by monopolies or corporation laws, or laws of apprenticeship,

so that industry and talent being free to act, wherever and however

they please, are likely to find the situations in which they can be

most profitably exerted.

In the next place, all offices and professions which are means of

acquiring property, or are of themselves a valuable property, while

they last, are thrown open to the competition of all; and we see them

as often, or more often, won by those who were born in poverty, and

who have been accustomed to rely on their own resources, than by the

pampered sons of wealth and luxury.

And lastly, the diffusion of property is the greater by the practice

of dividing an estate among all the children of a family; which,

either by the act of law, or the will of the deceased proprietor, has

become almost universal. The law of primogeniture, by artificially

damming up property to prevent its natural diffusion, must increase

the number of the poor in the same degree that it increases the number

of the rich. The estate which remains in the same family in England

for three generations, and continues throughout the property of a

single individual, is here distributed among twenty or thirty, and

often a far greater number. _This single change_ in our municipal law,

would necessarily have the effect of converting the property holders

into a majority of the community.

Whenever, then, the line between the rich and the poor is drawn in

this country, it will always comprehend a far smaller proportion of

the last class than in any other, so long as our civil institutions

retain their present character; and the number of people who have

property to some amount, and who have the hope of acquiring it, will

always be much greater than those who have none. When it is further

recollected that those who have made their own fortunes--a very

numerous class in all free countries--are likely to possess energy and

intelligence; they may also be expected to possess an influence more

than proportionate to their numbers. To these considerations we may

add the connections which arise from favors received or expected, by

the poor from the rich; the influence of habit; the protection of the

laws; the restraints of morality, of indolence, and fear, and they

seem sufficient to assure us that apprehensions of a mischievous

combination of the poor against the rich, are groundless; and that all

which the indigent class can effect for their own advantage by

combination, may not prove a sufficient antagonist to the influence

the rich will be able to exert over them.

I know of no instance of a successful combination of the indigent

classes, except in the case of the Agrarian laws at Rome. But this

subject has been greatly misunderstood, and there never was a more

well founded complaint than that which the poor made against the rich,

on that occasion. Modern historians seem to have followed up the

injustice, by misrepresenting the facts, and assailing the character

of those who had been previously defrauded of their property. The

diligent researches of German scholars[8] have shewn incontestibly

that the Agrarian laws, for which the Gracchi lost their lives,

concerned only the _public_ lands, which had been obtained by

conquest, and not those which formed part of the territory of the

ancient republic. As these public lands were charged with a very

moderate,--merely nominal rent,--it was necessary to impose some limit

upon the portion which a single individual could obtain, which was

accordingly fixed at 500 _jugera_--equal to about 312 of our acres.

But the Patrician class soon found means to evade this law, and having

engrossed these lands, the purposes for which they were set apart--of

affording the means of support to the poor, and of rewarding those by

whose bravery and toils they had been won--was thus completely

defeated: and the redundant population, unprovided with the means of

subsistence, were obliged to become the bondsmen of the rich. Tiberius

Gracchus endeavored to have this flagrant wrong, which was a political

mischief, as well as a moral injustice, corrected: and whatever may

have been his motives, he so evidently had right on his side, that he

finally prevailed. But because he succeeded in defending the

unquestioned rights of the injured party, does it follow that he would

have had equal success in defending injustice? Because he was able to

sustain the violated rights of property, would he have been also able

to destroy them? Certainly not: For he with difficulty succeeded, even

at the cost of his life: and success would have been impossible but

for the dauntless intrepidity and the zealous support which the

goodness of his cause inspired.

[Footnote 8: Heeren and Niebuhr.]

To the progress of our literature and science we may look with

unalloyed hopes. In many branches, both ornamental and useful, we are

still behind the country from which we are descended; and we fall as

far short of her in the quantity of original productions as in the

quality. But this, we confidently trust, is but a temporary

inferiority. Our whole faculties are now engaged in cultivating the

choicest fruits of civilization, and by and by we shall turn our

attention to its flowers. Our late rapid advancement in letters

affords a sure presage of future excellence, and symptoms of this

gratifying change gladden our eyes in every direction. As soon as the

more imperious wants of the country shall be satisfied, and men of

superior powers and attainments shall have filled the learned

professions, and offices requiring science and talent, then we shall

begin to form a class of men of letters, who will devote their leisure

and genius to minister to our intellectual wants: And they will find

here a wide field both for speculation and description, political,

physical and moral. We are justified in pronouncing that our

literature will have freshness, boldness, richness and variety, and I

would fain hope, the crowning grace of simplicity. Poetry, though not

destined again to receive divine honors, or even the same profound

homage as in a later day, will always occupy a high place in the world

of letters: for the pleasure which can be conveyed to the mind by

rhythm, imagery and fervid sentiment combined, are immutable; but the

higher province of intellect will be to instruct and convince; to aid

us in the arduous duties of life--whether as members of a profession,

as citizens of the state, or as moral and responsible beings. Until

that day arrives, let us cherish those institutions which best serve

to preserve and diffuse a knowledge of science and letters, as well as

to increase a taste for them; and never relax in our exertions until

we are at least upon a level with the highest. Next to an elevated

moral character, this is the most proper object of national ambition:

and while I should be content that this country may never give birth

to a Phidias, or Canova, a Raphael or Titian--that it should not

produce as good musicians as Italy or Germany--as beautiful millinery

as Paris--as cheap or good cutlery as Sheffield--I should be mortified

to think that we should never be able to boast of such poets as Byron

or Pope, such historians as Hume or Gibbon, such moralists as Johnson,

such novelists as Walter Scott, or such mathematicians as La Place.

In looking into our future destiny, I have not allowed myself to

travel into the regions of fancy, but have confined my attention to

those results which seemed fairly deducible from causes now visibly

operating; and which are in conformity with the past experience of

mankind. I have not indulged in those overstrained speculations with

which some have contemplated the future progress of philosophy, but

have endeavored to avoid on the one hand, those views of future evil,

which it is the nature of gloomy tempers to entertain, and on the

other, those visions of future excellence or perfection incompatible

with our past experience; such, for example, as the dreams, first of

Condorcet, and afterwards of Godwin. Of a similar character, I fear,

are the predictions of those who think that war may be banished from

the civilized world. Without doubt it is the tendency of the progress

of reason and philosophy, to lessen the chances of war: in the same

way as refinement of manners checks personal conflicts among

individuals. But it will, probably, no more put an end to them in one

case, than in the other; and the time may never come, when the

interests of nations will not clash, when they will not differ in

opinion about their respective rights; when they will not be willing

to resent supposed injustice, and hazard their lives to gratify their

resentment. Nor can occasions be wanting at any time to call forth

these motives to war. Nations may have rivalship in trade; rivalship

in fisheries; they may differ about boundaries, or the construction of

treaties; or they may be involved in the disputes of others. These

causes must be regarded as inseparable from the condition of man, even

if he should no longer be exposed to the danger of war, from mere

differences of opinion on some speculative points in religion,

politics or morals. It may then prove in all future time, as it has

proved in all time past, that it is man's nature to quarrel and fight,

no less than to love or to hate, and the only difference may be as to

the occasions of war, and the mode of carrying it on: in short, that

this ultimate argument of republics as well as kings, will continue to

be appealed to, as it always has been, when all others have failed.

If this is to be regarded as a part of man's inevitable destiny, let

us not indulge in vain repinings at it--but endeavor to prevent it as

far as we can, by a course of justice, and moderation, and

forbearance: and if, nevertheless, our efforts should be unavailing,

let the philosophic and patriotic mind find consolation in the fact,

that though war is the cause of much human misery, it calls forth many

virtues, and affords occasion for the display of some of the noblest

traits of our character--courage, patriotism, generosity,

disinterestedness and every form of virtuous self-denial. It gives a

stimulus to all the more elevated and severer virtues. It breaks up

the icy frost of selfishness, which in the still times of peace may

congeal about the heart. The love of country never burns with a purer

or stronger flame than in the bosom of the patriotic soldier: nor can

any thing but war enable a citizen to make the same sacrifices, or so

prove his self devotion to his country. It may then be among the

dispensations of the ruler of the universe, that war, as well as

peace, is necessary for the development and the preservation of some

of our highest qualities, and to fulfil our destiny. Nor let us vainly

hope to extinguish national more than individual resentment, but

merely to regulate it--to reserve it for those occasions which a sense

of justice prompts and reason sanctions: and although it is but a

blind arbiter of disputes, it is the only one, in some circumstances,

that can be appealed to.

Having thus, Mr. President, brought to your notice, with less of

condensation than I could have wished, the great and rapid strides

which human reason is now making in the civilized world, as exhibited

in every field of intellectual exercise: having noticed the

unequivocal signs that this progress will yet continue, that we cannot

assign to it any precise limits, and that in all estimates of the

future, we must take it into consideration: having endeavored to infer

its probable effects on our condition, taken in connection with the

other changes to which we are destined, I have discharged my main

purpose. Yet I do not feel that I have entirely fulfilled my duty as a

member of the Society, unless I say something of its particular

objects.

One of these objects was to collect and preserve the perishable

memorials of the past history of Virginia, from the time it was a

colony to the present day. While this is a subject which must always

be one of lively interest to her citizens, it is also one in which

diligence will be amply rewarded. Our early colonial history more

abounds in events of a striking and diversified character, than that

of any of the other colonies; and this state, moreover, has a sort of

parental relation to nearly all the states to the south and west. Full

justice has never yet been done to this subject. There are indeed

points in the history of the settlement of the colony, which require

elucidation, and for which the materials are to be found, if at all,

only in the archives of England. But on our later history much light

has been thrown by a diligent examination of the laws of the colony;

and somewhat may be further gleaned from a search into those records

of the county courts, which have yet escaped the ravages of war and

time. The records of these courts, whose duties were always of a very

miscellaneous character, may communicate much information concerning

the state of society, the habits, manners and ways of thinking of the

people. The authentic details of the public offences and their

punishment, is no insignificant portion of a nation's history. Much

has been done in this way by Hening's Collection of the Statutes at

Large; and though a large portion of the treasure has already been

drawn from this mine, it has not been exhausted. After paying a just

tribute to the industry and general accuracy of that work, it also

suggests a caution to future inquirers against a spirit of skepticism

towards preceding narratives, merely because some inaccuracies have

been discovered. Of this I may be allowed to mention one or two

examples, as in the endeavor to shew (in which Burke concurs,) that

the account of all preceding historians of the loyalty of Virginia

towards the House of Stuart, immediately before and after the

Commonwealth, was erroneous--and that because Robertson in his

posthumous historical sketch was plainly mistaken in saying that no

man suffered capitally "for his participation in Bacon's rebellion,"

he is not entitled to credit: or, when Bacon, according to all

previous accounts, had, during a wet spell, at the most sickly season

of the year, in the county of Gloucester, been seized with a dysentery

which proved mortal, to suggest that a death so little violating

probability, should be deemed mysterious, and warranted the _suspicion

of poison by his enemies_.

The history of the settlements of the west exists only in tradition or

family letters, and its materials ought to be collected and preserved,

while it is not too late. The contest between the pioneer of

civilization and the native savage, is full of daring adventure and

romantic interest. If the command of gunpowder, and the use of iron

ultimately gave victory to the former, it was one always dearly

bought. The Indians defended their native rights with desperate valor

and consummate address, and it was only inch by inch that they yielded

their native soil to the invaders.

The origin of some anomalous enactments in the statute book, also

invite inquiry. Thus in the year 1647, lawyers were forbidden to take

any fees whatever, and in 1658 they were excluded from the

legislature. For this uncourteous act, it must be confessed that their

descendants have made the _amende honorable_. The medical profession

seemed also an object of jealousy with the planter; as by another

law,[9] physicians were required to swear to the value of their drugs.

[Footnote 9: Passed in 1646.]

There is too, a good deal of uncertainty and inconsistency in the

statistical accounts of the state. On the duty of the present

generation to collect and preserve every thing relative to the

revolution, I need not lay any stress. There are still numerous papers

in many families, of no sort of value to them, that may yet shed light

on that interesting era.

In all that concerns the other object of this Society, the physical

history of the state, every thing is yet to be done. The records here

are before us, and are indestructible in any reasonable term of time;

but we must first labor to remove the rubbish which conceals them, and

then study to decipher them. This is a tempting field of research, as

it may not only add to our stock of information, but also to our store

of worldly wealth. The great Appalachian chain of mountains, which

traverses the United States from Maine to Alabama, is broader no where

than in Virginia, or consists of a greater number of distinct ridges,

and no where has it given as clear indications of abounding in mineral

wealth. We have found in it already gold, copper, lead, iron,

manganese, gypsum, salt, coal, nitre, alum, marble in great variety,

besides other minerals that are useful in the arts; and a more

diligent and scientific search than has yet been made, may by

increasing their number increase the profit of those canals and roads

that are now projected, and give rise to others not yet contemplated.

Our demand for fossil coal is of growing importance; for our

increasing population at once increases the demand for fuel, and

diminishes the supply of wood. I was happy to see last evening, the

specimen of anthracite coal from the county of Augusta; and the value

of that mineral deserved the high eulogy it received. We may form some

idea of the importance of fossil coal, from the fact that steam

engines in England are now computed to perform annually, the work of

four hundred millions of men! a number nearly double to that now

living on the whole globe.

Nor is the geology of the state to be disregarded. Ever since a

careful examination of the materials of the earth's surface has been

found to afford indications of its past changes, this science has been

diligently and successfully cultivated in Europe, and has not been

neglected in some parts of the United States. It is high time that

Virginia should contribute her quota to its researches. We should be

the more stimulated to cultivate this branch of science in the United

States, in consequence of the remarkable regularity of the different

formations on this continent. Thus along the coast below the falls, we

have south of Long Island the tertiary formation; between the falls

and the Blue Ridge, the primitive; and the great Mississippi Valley,

from the Alleghany to the Rocky Mountains, if principally secondary.

There are however, occasional exceptions to these general rules, and

they should be noticed with care. As our useful minerals lie near the

surface, our observations will, for a long time to come, be

principally confined to that; but as there are instances of shafts

being sunk in search of salt water or gold, the strata should be

carefully noted; and where any pit of unusual depth is sunk, it would

be well to make experiments on the heat of the earth, before the

admission of the ordinary air has altered its temperature. It has long

been asserted that there was an internal heat in the interior of the

earth, and further observation seems to confirm it. This fact has

lately had a seemingly conclusive verification in England. A shaft had

been sunk there in pursuit of coal, to the extraordinary depth of

nearly fifteen hundred feet; and by a number of careful experiments,

the heat at the bottom was found to be 28° hotter than the average

heat of the earth in this latitude, which would seem to show an

increase at the rate of a degree of Fahrenheit for every sixty

feet.[10] Should this correctly indicate the measure of the earth's

internal heat, then at the depth of something less than two miles, we

should come to the temperature of boiling water. When we recollect

that this heat is not farther removed from us than a two thousandth

part of the distance to the centre, (bearing about the same proportion

to the earth as the parchment stretched over it, does to an ordinary

globe,) it seems to afford a ready solution for volcanoes,

earthquakes, and many geological phenomena; and may even excite our

wonder, that some of these results of so mighty an agent are not more

frequent and terrible than they are. And when we recollect that the

confines between organized matter, and that form of it which is

inconsistent with animal or vegetable life, approach so near each

other, it is calculated to humble the pride of man, that he has been

upon this globe all but six thousand years without a suspicion of the

fact.

[Footnote 10: See London and Edinburgh Philosophical Magazine for

December 1834. This experiment coincides with the theory regarding the

internal heat of the earth, promulgated by a member of the French

Institute (Mons. Cordier,) in a memoir presented to that association

about six years since, in which he gives a detail of numerous

observations and experiments on which he founded his theory, now fully

confirmed by the more decisive experiment in England.]

There are also problems concerning our climate which well deserve

solution. The acknowledged difference between the eastern and western

coasts of climates, has been attributed, with a great show of reason,

to the prevalence of the westerly winds; and of the fact of their

greater prevalence there, is the most satisfactory general

evidence--but it is discreditable that the amount of the difference

should not be as well ascertained as the fact itself. The average

difference can be ascertained only by repeated and accurate

observations.

It has also been asserted that the temperature of the Mississippi

Valley is higher than that of the Atlantic coast. Mr. Jefferson long

ago advanced this opinion, and it was adopted by Volney; but there is

strong reason to believe that the direct contrary is the fact. It is,

however, high time that this question should be settled by a series of

thermometrical observations, and a comparison of facts derived from

the vegetable world.

We have, Mr. President, been three years in existence, and as yet have

done little. Let us bestir ourselves in the cause of science and of

our country; and endeavor, under some disadvantages, to give Virginia

the same rank in science and literature that she has always maintained

in her devotion to civil liberty and political integrity. Though borne

along with the rest of the world, by the great current of philosophy

of which I have been speaking, we should not fold our arms in listless

apathy, but diligently ply our oars, lest we should be left further

behind by those in advance of us, and be overtaken by those now in our

rear.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.