There is, no doubt, a disposition and a tendency to extol the recent

past. The recollections of childhood are quite at variance with the real

truth, and tradition is often the dream of old age concerning the

events of early life. As rivers, hills, mountains, roads, and towns, are

all magnified by the visions of childhood, it is not strange that men

should be also. Hence comes, in part, the popular belief in the superior

physical strength and greater longevity of the people who lived fifty or

a hundred years ago. Each generation is familiar with its predecessor;

but of the one next remote it knows only the marked characters. Those

who possessed great physical excellences remain; but they are not so

much the representatives of their generation as its exceptions. The

weak, the diseased, have fallen by the way; and, as there is an intimate

connection between physical and intellectual power, the remnant of any

generation, whatever its common character, will retain a

disproportionate number of strong-minded men. Hence it is not safe to

judge a generation as a whole by those who remain at the age of sixty or

seventy years; especially if we reflect that public opinion and

tradition are most likely to preserve the names and qualities of those

who were distinguished for physical or mental power. Yet, after making

due allowance for these exaggerations, I cannot escape the conclusion

that we have, as a people, deteriorated in average sound political

learning; and I proceed to mention some of the causes and evidences of

our degeneracy, and of the superiority of our ancestors.

I. _The political condition of the country has been essentially

changed._--General personal and family comfort, according to the ideas

now entertained, was not a feature of American society for one hundred

and seventy years from the settlement at Plymouth. Life was a continual

contest--a contest with the forest, with the climate, with the Indians,

and especially was it a continual contest with the mother country. The

colonists sought to maintain their own rights without infringement,

while they accorded to the sovereign his constitutional privileges.

Conflicts were frequent, and apprehensions of conflict yet more

frequent. Hence those who had the conduct of public affairs were

compelled to give some attention to English history, and to the

constitutional law of Great Britain. Moreover, it was always important

to secure and keep a strong public sentiment on the side of liberty; and

there were usually in every town men who thoroughly investigated

questions of public policy. There was one topic, more absorbing than any

other, that involved the study of the legal history and usage of Great

Britain, and a careful consideration of the general principles of

liberty; namely, the constitutional rights of a British subject. Here

was a broad field for inquiry, investigation, and study; and it was

faithfully cultivated and gleaned. There has never been a political

topic for public discussion in America more important in itself, or

better calculated to educate an American in a knowledge of his political

rights, than the examination of the political relations of the subject

to the crown and parliament of Great Britain previous to the Declaration

of Independence. It was not an abstraction. It had a practical value to

every man in the colonies, and it was the prominent feature of the

masterly exposition made by the Massachusetts House of Representatives,

to which I have already referred. And we can better estimate the

political education which the times furnished, when we consider that the

revolutionary war was made logical and necessary through a knowledge of

positions, facts, and arguments, scattered over the history of the

colonies. But, when our Independence had been established and

recognized, constitutions had been framed, and the governments of the

states and nation set in motion, the beauty and harmony of our political

system seemed to render continued attention to political principles and

the rights of individual men unnecessary. Hence, we may anticipate the

judgment of impartial history in the admission that public attention was

gradually given to contests for office which did not always involve the

maintenance of a fundamental principle of government, or the recognition

of an essential human right. It does not, however, follow, from this

admission, that we are indifferent to our political lot,--occasional

contests upon principle refute such a conjecture,--but that men are not

anxious concerning those things which appear to be secure. And the

differences of political parties of the last fifty years have not been

so much concerning the nature of human rights, as in regard to the

institutions by which those rights can be best protected. Therefore our

political questions have been questions of expediency rather than of

principle. And, if there is any foundation for the popular impression

that public offices are conferred on men less eminently qualified to

give dignity to public employments, the reason of this degeneracy--less

noteworthy than it is usually represented--is to be found in this

connection.

Governments and political organizations accept the common law of

society. When an individual or a corporation is prosperous, places of

trust and emolument are often gained and occupied by unworthy men; but,

when profits are diminished, or when they disappear entirely; when

dividends are passed, when loss and bankruptcy are imminent, then, if

hope and courage still remain, places of importance are filled by the

appointment of abler and worthier men. The charge made against official

character, to whatever extent true, is better evidence of confidence and

prosperity than it is of the degeneracy of the people; and a public

exigency, serious and long-continued, would call to posts of

responsibility the highest talent and integrity which the country could

produce. But it is, nevertheless, to be admitted as a necessary

consequence of the facts already stated, and the views presented, that

the average amount of sound political learning among those engaged in

public employments is less than it was during the revolutionary era. It

is, however, also to be observed, that, when such learning seems to be

specially required, the people demand it and secure it. Hence the work

of framing constitutions, even in the new states, has, in its execution,

commanded the approval of political writers in this country and in

Europe. And it must, also, be admitted that peace and prosperity render

sound political learning and great experience less necessary, and at the

same time multiply the number of men who are considered eligible to

office. Candidates are put in nomination and elected because they have

been good neighbors, honorable citizens, competent teachers of youth, or

faithful spiritual guides; or, possibly, because they have been

successful in business, are of the military or of the fire department,

or because they are leaders and benefactors of special classes of

society. In ordinary times these facts are all worthy of consideration

and real deference; but when, as in the Revolution, every place of

public service is a post of responsibility, or sacrifice, or danger,

candidates and electors will not meet upon these grounds, but,

disregarding such circumstances, the canvass will have special reference

to the work to be done. For civil employments, political learning and

experience are required; and for military posts, skill, sagacity, and

courage. It may be said that our whole colonial life was a preparatory

school for the revolutionary contest; and, therefore, the major part of

the enterprise, ambition, and patriotism, of the country, was given to

the training, studies, and pursuits, calculated to fit men for so stern

a struggle. But now that other avenues are inviting in themselves, and

promise political preferment, we are liable to the criticism that our

young men, well educated in the schools and in a knowledge of the world,

are not well grounded in political history and constitutional law,

without which there can be no thorough and comprehensive statesmanship.

And, as I pass from this branch of my subject, I may properly say that I

do not seek to limit the number of candidates for public office; for

every office is a school, and the public itself is a great and wise

teacher. Nor do I ask any to abandon the employments and duties, or to

neglect the claims of business and of social life; but I seek to impress

upon our youth a sense of the importance of adding something thereto.

The knowledge of which I have spoken is valuable in the ordinary course

of public business, and absolutely essential in the exigences of

political and national life. And it is with an eye single to the

happiness of individuals, and the welfare of the public, that I invite

my fellow-citizens, and especially the young men of the state, to take

something from the hours of labor, where labor is excessive; or

something from amusement, where amusement has ceased to be recreation;

or something from light reading, which often is neither true, nor

reasonable, nor useful; or something from indolence and dissipation;

and, in the minutes and hours thus gained, treasure up valuable

knowledge for the circumstances and exigences of citizenship and public

office.

II. _The claims of business and society are unfavorable to political

learning._--I assume it to be true of Massachusetts that the proportion

of freehold farmers to the whole population is gradually diminishing,

and that the amount of labor performed by each is gradually increasing.

From the settlement of the country to the commencement of the present

century, there was a great deal of privation, hardship, and positive

suffering; but the claim for continuous labor was not exacting.

The necessary articles of food and clothing were chiefly supplied from

the land, and the majority did not contemplate any great accumulation of

worldly goods, but sought rather to place their political and religious

privileges upon a sure foundation. Agriculture was in a rude state, and

consequently did not furnish steady employment to those engaged in it.

It is only when there are valuable markets, scientific, or at least

careful cultivation, and large profits, that the farmer can use his

evenings and long winters in his profession. These circumstances did not

exist until the present century; and we have thus in this discussion

found both the motive and the opportunity for political learning among

our ancestors.

It is also possible that the increased activity of business and business

men is unfavorable to those studies and thoughts that are essential to

political learning. Commerce and trade are stimulated by never-ceasing

competition; and manufacturers are not free from the influence of

markets, and the necessity of variety, taste, and skill, in the

management of their business. If the larger share of the physical and

mental vigor of a man is given to business, his hours of leisure must be

hours of relaxation; and to most minds the study of history and of

kindred topics is by no means equivalent to recreation. Moreover,

society presents numerous claims which are not easily disregarded.

Fashionable life puts questions that but few people have the courage to

answer in the negative. Have you read the last novel? the new play? the

reviews of the quarter? the magazines of the month? or the greatest

satire of the age? These questions have puzzled many young men into

customary neglect of useful reading, that they may not admit their

ignorance in the presence of those whom they respect or admire.

But, everything valuable is expensive, and learning can be secured only

by severe self-sacrifice. With our ancestors, after religious culture,

historical and political reading was next immediately before them; but

the youth of this generation who seek such learning are compelled to

make their way without deference to the daily customs of society. There

is no fashionable or tolerated society that invites young men to read

the history of England prior to the time when Macaulay begins. Nor does

public sentiment recommend De Lolme on the British constitution, the

Federalist, the writings of Jefferson, Madison, Marshall, Story, and

Webster, upon the constitution of the United States, and the practice of

the government under it. Not but that these topics are considered in the

higher institutions of learning; but I address myself to those who have

enjoyed the advantages of our common schools only, where thorough

instruction in national and general political history cannot be given.

This kind of learning must be self-acquired, and acquired by some

temporary sacrifice; and the sooner, in the case of every young man,

this sacrifice is contemplated and offered, the more acceptable and

useful it will be. And the acquisition of this kind of learning does

not, in a majority of cases, admit of delay. It should be the work of

youth and early manhood. The duties of life are so constant and pressing

that we find it difficult to abstract ourselves and our thoughts from

the world; but, from the age of sixteen to the age of twenty-five, the

attention may be concentrated upon special subjects, and their elements

mastered.

By the Athenian law, minority terminated at the age of sixteen years;

and Demosthenes, at that period of his life, commenced a course of

self-education by which he became the first orator of Athens, and the

admiration of the after-world. The father of Demosthenes died worth

fourteen talents; and the son, though defrauded by his guardians, was,

as his father had been, enrolled in the wealthiest class of citizens;

yet he did not hesitate to subject himself to the severest mental and

physical discipline, in preparation for the great life he was to lead.

"Demosthenes received, during his youth, the ordinary grammatical and

rhetorical education of a wealthy Athenian.... It appears also that he

was, from childhood, of sickly constitution and feeble muscular frame;

so that, partly from his own disinclination, partly from the solicitude

of his mother, he took little part, as boy or youth, in the exercises of

the palæstra.... Such comparative bodily disability probably contributed

to incite his thirst for mental and rhetorical acquisitions, as the only

road to celebrity open. But it at the same time disqualified him from

appropriating to himself the full range of a comprehensive Grecian

education, as conceived by Plato, Isokrates, and Aristotle; an education

applying alike to thought, word, and action--combining bodily strength,

endurance, and fearlessness, with an enlarged mental capacity, and a

power of making it felt by speech.

"The disproportion between the physical energy and the mental force of

Demosthenes, beginning in childhood, is recorded and lamented in the

inscription placed on his statue after his death.... Demosthenes put

himself under the teaching of Isæus; ... and also profited largely by

the discourse of Plato, of Isokrates, and others. As an ardent

aspirant, he would seek instruction from most of the best sources,

theoretical as well as practical--writers as well as lecturers. But,

besides living teachers, there was one of the last generation who

contributed largely to his improvement. He studied Thucydides with

indefatigable labor and attention; according to one account, he copied

the whole history eight times over with his own hand; according to

another, he learnt it all by heart, so as to be able to rewrite it from

memory, when the manuscript was accidentally destroyed. Without minutely

criticizing these details, we ascertain, at least, that Thucydides was

the peculiar object of his study and imitation. How much the composition

of Demosthenes was fashioned by the reading of Thucydides, reproducing

the daring, majestic, and impressive phraseology, yet without the

overstrained brevity and involutions of that great historian,--and

contriving to blend with it a perspicuity and grace not inferior to

Lysias,--may be seen illustrated in the elaborate criticism of the

rhetor Dionysius.

"While thus striking out for himself a bold and original style,

Demosthenes had still greater difficulties to overcome in regard to the

external requisites of an orator. He was not endowed by nature, like

Æschines, with a magnificent voice; nor, like Demades, with a ready flow

of vehement improvisation. His thoughts required to be put together by

careful preparation; his voice was bad, and even lisping; his breath

short; his gesticulation ungraceful; moreover, he was overawed and

embarrassed by the manifestations of the multitude.... The energy and

success with which Demosthenes overcame his defects, in such manner as

to satisfy a critical assembly like the Athenians, is one of the most

memorable circumstances in the general history of self-education.

Repeated humiliation and repulse only spurred him on to fresh solitary

efforts for improvement. He corrected his defective elocution by

speaking with pebbles in his mouth; he prepared himself to overcome the

noise of the assembly by declaiming in stormy weather on the sea-shore

of Phalerum; he opened his lungs by running, and extended his powers of

holding breath by pronouncing sentences in marching up-hill; he

sometimes passed two or three months without interruption in a

subterranean chamber, practising night and day either in composition or

declamation, and shaving one-half of his head in order to disqualify

himself from going abroad."[3] Yet all this effort and sacrifice were

accompanied by repeated and humiliating failures; and it was not until

he was twenty-seven years of age that the great orator of the world

achieved his first success before the Athenian assembly.

But how can the youth of this age hope to be followers, even at a

distance, of Demosthenes, and of those his peers, who, by eloquence,

poetry, art, science, and general learning, have added dignity to the

race, and given lustre to generations separated by oceans and centuries,

unless they are animated by a spirit of progress, and cheered by a faith

that shall be manifested in the disposition and the power to overcome

the obstacles that lie in every one's path?

Such a course of training requires individual effort and personal

self-sacrifice. It would not be wise to follow the plan of the Athenian

orator; he adapted his training to his personal circumstances, and the

customs of the country. His history is chiefly valuable for the lessons

of self-reliance, and the example of perseverance under discouragements,

that it furnishes. But it is always a solemn duty to hold up before

youth noble models of industry, perseverance, and success, that they may

be stimulated to the work of life by the assurance of history that,

"Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us further than to-day."

III. _The popular reading of the day does not contribute essentially to

the education of the citizen and statesman._--It is not, of course,

expected that every man is to qualify himself for the life of a

statesman; but it does seem necessary for all to be so well instructed

in political learning as to possess the means of forming a reasonable

and philosophical opinion of the policy of the government. It is as

discreditable to the intellect and judgment of a free people to complain

of that which is right in itself, and rests upon established principles

of right, as to submit without resistance or murmur to usurpation or

misgovernment. I do not mean to undervalue the periodical press; but it

must always assume something in regard to its readers, and in politics

it must assume that the principles of government and the history of

national institutions are known and understood.

But the young man should subject himself to a systematic course of

training; and I know of nothing more valuable in political studies than

a thorough acquaintance with English history. Our principles of

government were derived from England; and it is in the history of the

mother country that the best discussion of principles is found, as in

that country many of the contests for liberty occurred. But, as our

government is the outgrowth rather than a copy of British principles and

institutions, the American citizen is not prepared for his duties until

he has made himself familiar with American history, in all its

departments. How ill-suited, then, for the duties of citizenship and

public life, in the formation of taste and habits of thought, is much of

the reading of the present time! And I may here call attention to the

fact that each town in Massachusetts is invested with authority to

establish a public library by taxation. This, it seems to me, is one of

the most important legislative acts of the present decennial period;

and, indeed, a public library is essential to the view I am taking of

the necessity and importance of political education. Private libraries

exist, but they are not found in every house, nor can every person enjoy

their advantages. Public libraries are open to all; and, when the

selection of books is judicious, they furnish opportunities for

education hardly less to be prized than the common schools themselves.

The public library is not only an aid to general learning, a contributor

to political intelligence and power, but it is an efficient supporter of

sound morals, and all good neighborhood among men.

If the public will not offer to its youth valuable reading, such as its

experience, its wisdom, its knowledge of the claims of society, its

morality may select, shall the public complain if its young men and

women are tempted by frivolous and pernicious mental occupations? It is,

moreover, the duty of the public to furnish the means of self-education,

especially in the science of government; and political learning, for the

most part, must be gained after the school-going period of life has

passed.

Let American liberty be an intelligent liberty, and therefore a

self-sustaining liberty. Freedom, more or less complete, has been found

in two conditions of life. Man, in a rude state, where his condition

seemed to be normal, rather than the result of a process of mental and

moral degeneracy, has often possessed a large share of independence; but

this should by no means be confounded with what in America is called

liberty. The independence of the savage, or nomad, is manifested in the

absence of law; but the liberty of an American citizen is the power to

do whatever may be beneficial to himself, and not injurious to his

neighbor nor to the state. The first leaves self-protection and

self-regulation to the individual, while the latter restrains the

aggressive tendencies of all for the security of each. The first is

natural equality without law; the second is natural equality before the

law. With the first, might makes right; with the latter, right makes

might. With the first, the power of the law, or of the will of an

individual or clan, is in the rigor and success of execution; with the

latter, the power of the law is in the justice of its demand. We, as a

people, have passed the savage and nomadic state, and can return to it

only after a long and melancholy process of decay and change, out of

which ultimately might come a new and savage race of men. This, then, is

not our immediate, even if it be a possible danger. But we are to guard

against intellectual, political, and moral degeneracy. We are, through

family, religious, and public education, to take security of the

childhood and youth of the land for the preservation of the institutions

we have, and for the growth, greatness, and justice, of the republic.

Liberty in America, if you will admit the distinction, is a growth and

not a creation. The institutions of liberty in America have the same

character. By many centuries of trial, struggle, and contest, through

many years of experience, sometimes joyous, and sometimes sad, the fact

and the institutions of liberty in America have been evolved. It has not

been a work of destruction and creation, but a process of change and

progress. And so it must ever be. Reformation does not often follow

destruction; and they who seek to destroy the institutions of a country

are not its friends in fact, however they may be in purpose. Ignorance

can destroy, but intelligence is required to reform or build up. Let

the prejudice against learning, not common now, but possibly existing in

some minds, be forever banished. Learning is the friend of liberty. Of

this America has had evidence in her own history, and in her observation

of the experience of others. The literary institutions and the

cultivated men of America, like Milton and Hampden in England, preferred

"Hard liberty before the easy yoke

Of servile pomp."

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