All other nations have this same fault, it may be said. But there is

this difference: in other nations the things of a man are put before the

man himself; so a materialism which exalts the accidents of the

man--rank, wealth, birth, and the like--above the man, is not

inconsistent with the general idea of England or Austria. In America it

is a contradiction. Besides, in most civilized countries, there is a

class of men living on inherited wealth, who devote their lives to

politics, art, science, letters, and so are above the mere material

elegance which surrounds them. That class has often inflicted a deep

wound on society, which festers long and leads to serious trouble in the

system, but at the same time it redeems a nation from the reproach of

mere material vulgarity; it has been the source of refinement, and has

warmed into life much of the wisdom and beauty which have thence spread

over all the world. In America there is no such class. Young men

inheriting wealth very rarely turn to any thing noble; they either

convert their talents into gold, or their gold into furniture, wines,

and confectionary. A young man of wealth does not know what to do with

himself or it; a rich young woman seems to have no resource but

marriage! Yet it must be confessed, that at least in one part of the

United States wealth flows freely for the support of public institutions

of education.

Here it is difficult for a man of science to live by his thought. Was

Bowditch one of the first mathematicians of his age? He must be at the

head of an annuity office. If Socrates should set up as a dealer in

money, and outwit the brokers as formerly the Sophists, and shave notes

as skilfully as of old, we should think him a great man. But if he

adopted his old plan, what should we say of him?

Manliness is postponed and wealth preferred. "What a fine house is

this," one often says; "what furniture; what feasting. But the master of

the house!--why every stone out of the wall laughs at him. He spent all

of himself in getting this pretty show together, and now it is empty,

and mocks its owner. He is the emblematic coffin at the Egyptian feast."

"Oh, man!" says the looker-on, "why not furnish thyself with a mind, and

conscience, a heart and a soul, before getting all this brass and

mahogany together; this beef and these wines?" The poor wight would

answer,--"Why, Sir, there were none such in the market!"--The young man

does not say, "I will first of all things be a man, and so being will

have this thing and the other," putting the agreeable after the

essential. But he says, "First of all, by hook or by crook, I will have

money, the manhood may take care of itself." He has it,--for tough and

hard as the old world is, it is somewhat fluid before a strong man who

resolutely grapples with difficulty and will swim through, it can be

made to serve his turn. He has money, but the man has evaporated in the

process; when you look he is not there. True, other nations have done

the same thing, and we only repeat their experiment. The old devil of

conformity says to our American Adam and Eve, "Do this and you shall be

as gods," a promise as likely to hold good as the devil's did in the

beginning. A man was meant for something more than a tassel to a large

estate, and a woman to be more than a rich housekeeper.

With this offensive materialism we copy the vices of feudal aristocracy

abroad, making our vulgarity still more ridiculous. We are ambitious or

proud of wealth, which is but labor stored up, and at the same time are

ashamed of labor which is wealth in process. With all our talk about

democracy, labor is thought less honorable in Boston than in Berlin and

Leipsic. Thriving men are afraid their children will be shoemakers, or

ply some such honorable and useful craft. Yet little pains are taken to

elevate the condition or improve the manners and morals of those who do

all the manual work of society. The strong man takes care that his

children and himself escape that condition. We do not believe that all

stations are alike honorable if honorably filled; we have little desire

to equalize the burdens of life, so that there shall be no degraded

class; none cursed with work, none with idleness. It is popular to endow

a college; vulgar to take an interest in common schools. Liberty is a

fact, equality a word, and fraternity, we do not think of yet.

In this struggle for material wealth and the social rank which is based

thereon, it is amusing to see the shifting of the scenes; the social

aspirations of one and the contempt with which another rebuts the

aspirant. An old man can remember when the most exclusive of men, and

the most golden, had scarce a penny in their purse, and grumbled at not

finding a place where they would. Now the successful man is ashamed of

the steps he rose by. The gentleman who came to Boston half a century

ago, with all his worldly goods tied up in a cotton handkerchief, and

that not of so large a pattern as are made now-a-days, is ashamed to

recollect that his father was a currier, or a blacksmith, or a skipper

at Barnstable or Beverly; ashamed, also, of his forty or fifty country

cousins, remarkable for nothing but their large hands and their

excellent memory. Nay, he is ashamed of his own humble beginnings, and

sneers at men starting as he once started. The generation of English

"Snobs" came in with the Conqueror, and migrated to America at an early

day, where they continue to thrive marvellously--the chief "conservative

party" in the land.

Through this contempt for labor, a certain affectation runs through a

good deal of American society, and makes our aristocracy vulgar and

contemptible. What if Burns had been ashamed of his plough, and Franklin

had lost his recollection of the candle-moulds and the composing stick?

Mr. Chubbs, who got rich to-day, imitates Mr. Swipes, who got rich

yesterday, buys the same furniture, gives similar entertainments, and

counts himself "as good a man as Swipes, any day." Nay, he goes a little

beyond him, puts his servants in livery, with the "Chubbs arms" on the

button; but the new-found family arms are not descriptive of the

character of the Chubbses, or of their origin and history--only of their

vanity. Then Mr. Swipes looks down on poor Chubbs, and curls his lip

with scorn; calls him a "parvenu," "an upstart," "a plebeian;" speaks of

him as one of "that sort of people," "one of your ordinary men;"

"thrifty and well off in the world, but a little vulgar." At the same

time Mr. Swipes looks up to Mr. Bung, who got rich the day before

yesterday, as a gentleman of old family and quite distinguished, and

receives from that quarter the same treatment he bestows on his

left-hand neighbor. The real gentleman is the same all the world over.

Such are by no means lacking here, while the pretended gentlemen swarm

in America. Chaucer said a good word long ago:

"--This is not mine intendement

To clepen no wight in no age

Only gentle for his lineage;

But whoso that is virtuous,

And in his port not outrageous:

When such one thou see'st thee beforn,

Though he be not gentle born,

Thou mayest well see this in soth,

That he is gentle, because he doth

As 'longeth to a gentleman;

Of them none other deem I can;

For certainly withouten drede,

A churl is deemed by his deed,

Of high or low, as ye may see,

Or of what kindred that he be."

It is no wonder vulgar men, who travel here and eat our dinners, laugh

at this form of vulgarity. Wiser men see its cause, and prophesy its

speedy decay. Every nation has its aristocracy, or controlling class: in

some lands it is permanent, an aristocracy of blood; men that are

descended from distinguished warriors, from the pirates and freebooters

of a rude age. The nobility of England are proud of their fathers'

deeds, and emblazon the symbols thereof in their family arms, emblems of

barbarism. Ours is an aristocracy of wealth, not got by plunder, but by

toil, thrift, enterprise; of course it is a movable aristocracy: the

first families of the last century are now forgot, and their successors

will give place to new names. Now earning is nobler than robbing, and

work is before war; but we are ashamed of both, and seek to conceal the

noble source of our wealth. An aristocracy of gold is far preferable to

the old and immovable nobility of blood, but it has also its peculiar

vices: it has the effrontery of an upstart, despises its own ladder, is

heartless and lacks noble principle, vulgar and cursing. This lust of

wealth, however, does us a service, and gives the whole nation a

stimulus which it needs, and, low as the motive is, drives us to

continual advancement. It is a great merit for a nation to secure the

largest amount of useful and comfortable and beautiful things which can

be honestly earned, and used with profit to the body and soul of man.

Only when wealth becomes an idol, and material abundance is made the

end, not the means, does the love of it become an evil. No nation was

ever too rich, or overthrifty, though many a nation has lost its soul by

living wholly for the senses.

Now and then we see noble men living apart from this vulgarity and

scramble; some rich, some poor, but both content to live for noble aims,

to pinch and spare for virtue, religion, for truth and right. Such men

never fail from any age or land, but everywhere they are the exceptional

men. Still they serve to keep alive the sacred fire in the hearts of

young men, rising amid the common mob as oaks surpass the brambles or

the fern.

* * * * *

In these secondary qualities of the people which mark the special signs

of the times, there are many contradictions, quality contending with

quality; all by no means balanced into harmonious relations. Here are

great faults not less than great virtues. Can the national faults be

corrected? Most certainly; they are but accidental, coming from our

circumstances, our history, our position as a people--heterogeneous,

new, and placed on a new and untamed continent. They come not from the

nation's soul; they do not belong to our fundamental idea, but are

hostile to it. One day our impatience of authority, our philosophical

tendency, will lead us to a right method, that to fixed principles, and

then we shall have a continuity of national action. Considering the

pains taken by the fathers of the better portion of America to promote

religion here, remembering how dear is Christianity to the heart of all,

conservative and radical--though men often name as Christian what is

not--and seeing how truth and right are sure to win at last,--it becomes

pretty plain that we shall arrive at true principles, laws of the

universe, ideas of God; then we shall be in unison also with it and Him.

When that great defect--lack of first principles--is corrected, our

intensity of life, with the hope and confidence it inspires, will do a

great work for us. We have already secured an abundance of material

comforts hitherto unknown; no land was ever so full of corn and cattle,

clothing, comfortable houses, and all things needed for the flesh. The

desire of those things, even the excessive desire thereof, performs an

important part in the divine economy of the human race; nowhere is its

good effect more conspicuous than in America, where in two generations

the wild Irishman becomes a decent citizen, orderly, temperate, and

intelligent. This done or even a-doing, as it is now, we shall go forth

to realize our great national idea, and accomplish the great work of

organizing into institutions the unalienable rights of man. The great

obstacle in the way of that is African slavery--the great exception in

the nation's history; the national sin. When that is removed, as soon it

must be, lesser but kindred evils will easily be done away; the truth

which the land-reformers, which the associationists, the free-traders,

and others, have seen, dimly or clearly, can readily be carried out. But

while this monster vice continues, there is little hope of any great and

permanent national reform. The positive things which we chiefly need for

this work, are first, education, next, education, and then education, a

vigorous development of the mind, conscience, affections, religious

power of the whole nation. The method and the means for that I shall not

now discuss.

The organization of human rights, the performance of human duties, is an

unlimited work. If there shall ever be a time when it is all done, then

the race will have finished its course. Shall the American nation go on

in this work, or pause, turn off, fall, and perish? To me it seems

almost treason to doubt that a glorious future awaits us. Young as we

are, and wicked, we have yet done something which the world will not let

perish. One day we shall attend more emphatically to the rights of the

hand, and organize labor and skill; then to the rights of the head,

looking after education, science, literature, and art; and again to the

rights of the heart, building up the State with its laws, society with

its families, the church with its goodness and piety. One day we shall

see that it is a shame, and a loss, and a wrong, to have a criminal, or

an ignorant man, or a pauper, or an idler, in the land; that the jail,

and the gallows, and the almshouse are a reproach which need not be. Out

of new sentiments and ideas, not seen as yet, new forms of society will

come, free from the antagonism of races, classes, men--representing the

American idea in its length, breadth, depth, and height, its beauty and

its truth, and then the old civilization of our time shall seem

barbarous and even savage. There will be an American art commensurate

with our idea and akin to this great continent; not an imitation, but a

fresh, new growth. An American literature also must come with democratic

freedom, democratic thought, democratic power--for we are not always to

be pensioners of other lands, doing nothing but import and quote; a

literature with all of German philosophic depth, with English solid

sense, with French vivacity and wit, Italian fire of sentiment and soul,

with all of Grecian elegance of form, and more than Hebrew piety and

faith in God. We must not look for the maiden's ringlets on the baby's

brow; we are yet but a girl; the nameless grace of maturity, and

womanhood's majestic charm, are still to come. At length we must have a

system of education, which shall uplift the humblest, rudest, worst born

child in all the land; which shall bring forth and bring up noble men.

An American State is a thing that must also be; a State of free men who

give over brawling, resting on industry, justice, love, not on war,

cunning, and violence,--a State where liberty, equality, and fraternity

are deeds as well as words. In its time the American Church must also

appear, with liberty, holiness, and love for its watchwords, cultivating

reason, conscience, affection, faith, and leading the world's way in

justice, peace, and love. The Roman Church has been all men know what

and how; the American Church, with freedom for the mind, freedom for the

heart, freedom for the soul, is yet to be, sundering no chord of the

human harp, but tuning all to harmony. This also must come; but hitherto

no one has risen with genius fit to plan its holy walls, conceive its

columns, project its towers, or lay its corner-stone. Is it too much to

hope all this? Look at the arena before us--look at our past history.

Hark! there is the sound of many million men, the trampling of their

freeborn feet, the murmuring of their voice; a nation born of this land

that God reserved so long a virgin earth, in a high day married to the

human race,--rising, and swelling, and rolling on, strong and certain as

the Atlantic tide; they come numerous as ocean waves when east winds

blow, their destination commensurate with the continent, with ideas vast

as the Mississippi, strong as the Alleghanies, and awful as Niagara;

they come murmuring little of the past, but, moving in the brightness of

their great idea, and casting its light far on to other lands and

distant days--come to the world's great work, to organize the rights of

man.

VI.

A DISCOURSE OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. DELIVERED AT

THE MELODEON, IN BOSTON, MARCH 5, 1848.

Within a few days one of the most distinguished statesmen of the age has

passed away; a man who has long been before the public, familiarly known

in the new world and the old. He was one of the prominent monuments of

the age. It becomes us to look at his life, works, and public character,

with an impartial eye; to try him by the Christian standard. Let me

extenuate nothing, add nothing, and set down nought from any partial

love or partial hate. His individuality has been so marked in a long

life, his good and evil so sharply defined, that one can scarcely fail

to delineate its most important features.

God has made some men great and others little. The use of great men is

to serve the little men; to take care of the human race, and act as

practical interpreters of justice and truth. This is not the Hebrew

rule, nor the heathen, nor the common rule, only the Christian. The

great man is to be the servant of mankind, not they of him. Perhaps

greatness is always the same thing in kind, differing only in mode and

in form, as well as degree. The great man has more of human nature than

other men, organized in him. So far as that goes, therefore, he is more

me than I am myself. We feel that superiority in all our intercourse

with great men, whether kings, philosophers, poets, or saints. In kind

we are the same; different in degree.

In nature we find individuals, not orders and genera; but for our own

convenience in understanding and recollecting, we do a little violence

to nature, and put the individuals into classes. In this way we

understand better both the whole and each of its parts. Human nature

furnishes us with individual great men; for convenience we put them into

several classes, corresponding to their several modes or forms of

greatness. It is well to look at these classes before we examine any one

great man; this will render it easier to see where he belongs and what

he is worth. Actual service is the test of actual greatness; he who

renders, of himself, the greatest actual service to mankind, is actually

the greatest man. There may be other tests for determining the potential

greatness of men, or the essential; this is the Christian rule for

determining the actual greatness. Let us arrange these men in the

natural order of their work.

First of all, there are great men who discover general truths, great

ideas, universal laws, or invent methods of thought and action. In this

class the vastness of a man's genius may be measured, and his relative

rank ascertained by the transcendency of his ideas, by the newness of

his truth, by its practical value, and the difficulty of attaining it in

his time, and under his peculiar circumstances. In literature it is such

men who originate thoughts, and put them into original forms; they are

the great men of letters. In philosophy we meet with such; and they are

the great men of science. Thus Socrates discovered the philosophical

method of minute analysis that distinguished his school, and led to the

rapid advance of knowledge in the various and even conflicting

academies, which held this method in common, but applied it in various

ways, well or ill, and to various departments of human inquiry; thus

Newton discovered the law of gravitation, universal in nature, and by

the discovery did immense service to mankind. In politics we find

similar, or analogous men, who discover yet other laws of God, which

bear the same relation to men in society that gravitation bears to the

orbs in heaven, or to the dust and stones in the street; men that

discover the first truths of politics, and teach the true method of

human society. Such are the great men in politics.

We find corresponding men in religion; men who discover an idea so

central that all sectarianism of parties or of nations seems little in

its light; who discover and teach the universal law which unifies the

race, binding man to man, and men to God; who discover the true method

of religion conducting to natural worship without limitation, to free

piety, free goodness, free thought. To my mind such are the greatest of

great men, when measured by the transcendency of their doctrine and the

service they render to all. By the influence of their idea, letters,

philosophy, and politics become nobler and more beautiful, both in their

forms and their substance.

Such is the class of discoverers; men who get truth at first hand, truth

pertaining either especially to literature, philosophy, politics,

religion, or at the same time to each and all of them.

* * * * *

The next class consists of such as organize these ideas, methods,

truths, and laws; they concretize the abstract, particularize the

general; they apply philosophy to practical purposes, organizing the

discoveries of science into a railroad, a mill, a steam-ship, and by

their work an idea becomes fact. They organize love into families,

justice into a state, piety into a church. Wealth is power, knowledge is

power, religion power; they organize all these powers, wealth,

knowledge, religion, into common life, making divinity humanity, and

that society.

This organizing genius is a very great one, and appears in various

forms. One man spreads his thought out on the soil, whitening the land

with bread-corn; another applies his mind to the rivers of New England,

making them spin and weave for the human race; this man will organize

his thought into a machine with one idea, joining together fire and

water, iron and wood, animating them into a new creature, ready to do

man's bidding; while that with audacious hand steals the lightning of

heaven, organizes his plastic thought within that pliant fire, and sends

it of his errands to fetch and carry tidings between the ends of the

earth.

Another form of this mode of greatness is seen in politics, in

organizing men. The man spreads his thought out on mankind, puts men

into true relations with one another and with God; he organizes

strength, wisdom, justice, love, piety; balances the conflicting forces

of a nation, so that each man has his natural liberty as complete as if

the only man, yet, living in society, gathers advantages from all the

rest. The highest degree of this organizing power is the genius for

legislation, which can enact justice and eternal right into treaties and

statutes, codifying the divine thought into human laws, making absolute

religion common life and daily custom, and balancing the centripetal

power of the mass, with the centrifugal power of the individual, into a

well-proportioned state, as God has balanced these two conflicting

forces into the rhythmic ellipses above our heads. It need not be

disguised, that politics are the highest business for men of this class,

nor that a great statesman or legislator is the greatest example of

constructive skill. It requires some ability to manage the brute forces

of Nature, or to combine profitably nine-and-thirty clerks in a shop;

how much more to arrange twenty millions of intelligent, free men, not

for a special purpose, but for all the ends of universal life!

Such is the second class of great men; the organizers, men of

constructive heads, who form the institutions of the world, the little

and the great.

* * * * *

The next class consists of men who administer the institutions after

they are founded. To do this effectually and even eminently, it requires

no genius for original organization of truths freshly discovered, none

for the discovery of truths, outright. It requires only a perception of

those truths, and an acquaintance with the institutions wherein they

have become incarnate; a knowledge of details, of formulas, and

practical methods, united with a strong will and a practised

understanding,--what is called a turn for affairs, tact, or address; a

knowledge of routine and an acquaintance with men. The success of such

men will depend on these qualities; they "know the ropes" and the

soundings, the signs of the times; can take advantage of the winds and

the tides.

Speeches, Addresses, and Occasional Sermons, Volume 2 (of 3) · 第 14 / 23 段