affectation; sometimes from the wish to appear superior to those
sensual indulgences and light amusements which are to be obtained only
in cities, and sometimes from the pride of seeming to despise what is
beyond our reach. But the sentiment here expressed by Mr. Jefferson is
truly felt by many an American, and we have no reason to doubt it was
felt also by him. There is a charm in the life which one has been
accustomed to in his youth, no matter what the modes of that life may
have been, which always retains its hold on the heart. The Indian who
has passed his first years with his tribe, is never reconciled to the
habits and restraints of civilized life. And although in more
artificial and advanced stages of society, individuals, whether they
have been brought up in the town or the country, are not equally
irreconcilable to a change from one to the other, it commonly takes
some time to overcome their preference for the life they have been
accustomed to; and in many instances it is never overcome, but
continues to haunt the imagination with pleasing pictures of the past
or imaginations of the future, when hope gives assurance that those
scenes of former enjoyment may be renewed. That most of our country
gentlemen, past the heyday of youth, would soon tire of Paris, and
pant after the simple pleasures and exemption from restraint which
their own country affords, is little to be wondered at; but it is the
more remarkable in Mr. Jefferson, and more clearly illustrates the
force of early habit, when it is recollected that he found in the
French metropolis that society of men of letters and science which he
must often have in vain coveted in his own country, and that here he
met with those specimens of music, painting, and architecture, for
which he had so lively a relish. But in these comparisons between the
life we are leading and that which we have left, or are looking
forward to, we must always allow much to the force of the imagination,
and there are few men who felt its influence more than Mr. Jefferson.
In one of his letters to Mr. Carmichael, he says, "I sometimes think
of building a little hermitage at the Natural Bridge, (for it is my
property), and of passing there a part of the year at least."
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA.
(_From the Same._)
We have seen that the subject of education had long been a favourite
object with Mr. Jefferson, partly from his own lively relish for
literature and science, and partly because he deemed the diffusion of
knowledge among the people essential to the wise administration of a
popular government, and even to its stability. He had not long retired
from public life, before the subject again engaged his serious
attention, and, besides endeavouring to enlist men of influence in
behalf of his favourite scheme of dividing the counties of the State
into wards, and giving the charge of its elementary schools to these
little commonwealths, he also aimed to establish a college, in the
neighbourhood of Charlottesville, for teaching the higher branches of
knowledge, and which, from its central and healthy situation, might be
improved into a university.
He lived to see this object accomplished, and it owed its success
principally to his efforts. It engrossed his attention for more than
eleven years, in which time he exhibited his wonted judgment and
address, in overcoming the numerous obstacles he encountered, and a
diligence and perseverance which would have been creditable to the
most vigorous period of life. . . . . . .
In getting the university into operation, he seemed to have regained
the activity and assiduity of his youth. Everything was looked into,
everything was ordered by him. He suggested the remedy for every
difficulty, and made the selection in every choice of expedients. Two
or three times a week he rode down to the establishment to give orders
to the proctor, and to watch the progress of the work still
unfinished. Nor were his old habits of hospitality forgotten. His
invitations to the professors and their families were frequent, and
every Sunday some four or five of the students dined with him. At
these times he generally ate by himself in a small recess connected
with the dining-room; but, saving at meals, sat and conversed with
the company as usual. The number of visiters also to the University
was very great, and they seldom failed to call at Monticello, where
they often passed the day, and sometimes several days. He was so fully
occupied with his duties, as rector of the university, and he found so
much pleasure in the occupation, that for a time every cause of care
and anxiety, of which he now began to have an increased share, was
entirely forgotten; and the sun of his life seemed to be setting with
a soft but unclouded radiance.
[Illustration: ~Henry Clay.~]
THIRD PERIOD ... 1800-1850.
HENRY CLAY.
~1777=1852.~
HENRY CLAY was born at "The Slashes," Hanover County, Virginia, whence
he got his title, "Mill-Boy of the Slashes." His mother, early left a
widow, was poor, and on her second marriage, to Mr. Henry Watkins,
removed to Kentucky. Henry Clay became a clerk and then a law-student
in Richmond, Va., and in 1797 followed his mother to Kentucky, making
his home in Lexington. He rose speedily to eminence as a jury lawyer,
and in 1803 entered public life as a member of the State Legislature.
In 1806 he entered the United States Senate, and after the war of 1812
he was sent to Belgium as one of the Commissioners to treat of peace
with Great Britain.
His share in public life was most important. He was the author of the
Missouri Compromise of 1820, of the Tariff Compromise of 1832, of the
Bill for Protection and Internal Improvements; his agency in the first
two and in the Missouri Compromise of 1850, gaining for him the title
of the "Great Pacificator." With Calhoun and Webster, he formed the
triad of great statesmen who made illustrious our politics in the
first half of the nineteenth century.
He died in Washington City and was buried in Lexington, Kentucky,
where an imposing column, surmounted by his statue, marks his tomb. In
the Capitol grounds at Richmond there is also a fine monument and
statue to his memory. It has been said of him that no man ever had
more devoted friends and more bitter enemies. See Benton's account of
his duel with Randolph.
His home, "Ashland," on the suburbs of Lexington, is now a part of the
University of Kentucky. The old Court House in which so many of his
famous speeches were made still stands in Lexington, and is cherished
as an honoured reminder of his greatness in the eyes of his admiring
compatriots. See under A. H. Stephens, _Sketch in the Senate, 1850_;
also, Life, by Prentice, and by Schurz.
WORKS.
Speeches, [of which several collections have been made.]
Henry Clay was perhaps the greatest popular leader and orator that
America has produced, although his influence will not be so lasting as
that of profounder statesmen. He was a master of the feelings and
could sway the multitude before him as one man. "His style of argument
was by vivid picture, apt comparison, and forcible illustration,
rather than by close reasoning like Webster's, or impregnable logic
like that of Calhoun."--John P. McGuire.
TO BE RIGHT ABOVE ALL.
Sir, I would rather be right than be president. (_In 1850, on being
told that his views would endanger his nomination for the
presidency._)
NO GEOGRAPHICAL LINES IN PATRIOTISM.
I know no North, no South, no East, no West.
MILITARY INSUBORDINATION.
(_From the speech on the Seminole War, delivered 1819._)
I will not trespass much longer upon the time of the committee; but I
trust I shall be indulged with some few reflections upon the danger
of permitting conduct, [Gen. Jackson's arbitrary court-martial], on
which it has been my painful duty to animadvert, to pass without a
solemn expression of the disapprobation of this House. Recall to your
mind the free nations which have gone before us. Where are they now?
"Gone glimmering through the dream of things that were,
A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour."
And how have they lost their liberties? If we could transport
ourselves back to the ages when Greece and Rome flourished in their
greatest prosperity, and, mingling in the throng, should ask a Grecian
whether he did not fear that some daring military chieftain, covered
with glory, some Philip or Alexander, would one day overthrow the
liberties of his country, the confident and indignant Grecian would
exclaim, No! no! we have nothing to fear from our heroes; our
liberties shall be eternal. If a Roman citizen had been asked whether
he did not fear that the conqueror of Gaul might establish a throne
upon the ruins of public liberty, he would have instantly repelled the
unjust insinuation. Yet Greece fell; Cæsar passed the Rubicon, and the
patriotic arm even of Brutus could not preserve the liberties of his
devoted country. The celebrated Madame de Staël, in her last and
perhaps her best work, has said that in the very year, almost the very
month, when the president of the Directory declared that monarchy
would never show its frightful head in France, Bonaparte with his
grenadiers entered the palace of St. Cloud, and, dispersing with the
bayonet the deputies of the people, deliberating on the affairs of the
state, laid the foundation of that vast fabric of despotism which
overshadowed all Europe.
I hope not to be misunderstood; I am far from intimating that General
Jackson cherishes any designs inimical to the liberties of the
country. I believe his intentions to be pure and patriotic. I thank
God that he would not, but I thank Him still more that he could not if
he would, overturn the liberties of the Republic. But precedents, if
bad, are fraught with the most dangerous consequences. Man has been
described, by some of those who have treated of his nature, as a
bundle of habits. The definition is much truer when applied to
governments. Precedents are their habits. There is one important
difference between the formation of habits by an individual and by
government. He contracts it only after frequent repetition. A single
instance fixes the habit and determines the direction of governments.
Against the alarming doctrine of unlimited discretion in our military
commanders, when applied to prisoners of war, I must enter my protest.
It begins upon them; it will end on us. I hope our happy form of
government is to be perpetual. But if it is to be preserved, it must
be by the practice of virtue, by justice, by moderation, by
magnanimity, by greatness of soul, by keeping a watchful and steady
eye on the executive; and, above all, by holding to a strict
accountability the military branch of the public force. . . . . . .
Beware how you give a fatal sanction, in this infant period of our
republic, scarcely yet two score years old, to military
insubordination. Remember that Greece had her Alexander, Rome her
Cæsar, England her Cromwell, France her Bonaparte, and that, if we
would escape the rock on which they split, we must avoid their errors.
FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.
~1780=1843.~
FRANCIS SCOTT KEY was born in Frederick county, Maryland, and was
educated at St. John's College, Annapolis. He became a lawyer, was
appointed District Attorney of the District of Columbia, and spent his
life in Washington City.
A very handsome monument has been erected to his memory in San
Francisco by Mr. James Lick: his song, the "Star-Spangled Banner,"
will be his enduring monument throughout our country. It was composed
during the attack on Fort McHenry in Baltimore Harbor, 1814. Key had
gone to the British vessel to get a friend released from imprisonment,
in which he succeeded, but he was kept on board the enemy's vessel
until after the attack on the fort; and the song commemorates his
evening and morning watch for the star-spangled banner on Fort
McHenry, and the appearance of the flag in "the morning's first beam"
showed that the attack had been successfully resisted. The words were
written on an old envelope. (See illustrations in the _Century
Magazine_, July, 1894.)
WORKS.
Poems, with a sketch by Chief-Justice Taney.
[Illustration: ~Star-Spangled Banner.~]
[Illustration: Obverse
Reverse
~Seal of the United States.~]
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.
Oh! say can you see by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the clouds of the fight
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming!
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
O, say, does that Star-Spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?
On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
'Tis the Star-Spangled banner; O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave;
And the Star-Spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto--"_In God is our trust_"--
And the Star-Spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.
~1780=1851.~
[Illustration: ~Scene in Louisiana.~]
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON was born near New Orleans and educated in France
where he studied painting under David. While still a young man, his
father put him in charge of a country estate in Pennsylvania.
Afterwards he engaged in mercantile persuits in Philadelphia,
Louisville, New Orleans, and Henderson, Kentucky, but unsuccessfully;
for he knew and cared much more about the birds, flowers, and beasts
around him than about the kinds and prices of goods that his
neighbors needed.
His great literary and artistic work is "The Birds of America,"
consisting of five volumes of Ornithological Biographies and four
volumes of exquisite portraits of birds, life-size, in natural colors,
and surrounded by the plants which each one most likes. "Quadrupeds of
America" was prepared mainly by his sons and Rev. John Bachman of
South Carolina. These works gave him a European reputation. He died at
Minniesland, now Audubon Park, New York City.
His style in writing is pure, vivid, and so clear as to place before
us the very thing or event described. The accounts of his travels and
of the adventures he met with in his search for his birds and animals
are very natural and picturesque; and they show also his own fine
nature and attractive character.
A biography arranged from his diary by Mrs. Audubon was published in
New York, 1868. See also Samuel Smiles' "Brief Biographies." The State
Library of North Carolina possesses a set of Audubon's invaluable
works, of which there are only eight sets in America.
THE MOCKING-BIRD.
It is where the great magnolia shoots up its majestic trunk, crowned
with evergreen leaves, and decorated with a thousand beautiful
flowers, that perfume the air around; where the forests and the fields
are adorned with blossoms of every hue; where the golden orange
ornaments the gardens and groves; where bignonias of various kinds
interlace their climbing stems around the white-flowered Stuartia,
and, mounting still higher, cover the summits of the lofty trees
around, accompanied with innumerable vines, that here and there
festoon the dense foliage of the magnificent woods, lending to the
vernal breeze a slight portion of the perfume of their clustered
flowers; where a genial warmth seldom forsakes the atmosphere; where
berries and fruits of all descriptions are met with at every step; in
a word, kind reader, it is where Nature seems to have paused, as she
passed over the earth, and, opening her stores, to have strewed with
unsparing hand the diversified seeds from which have sprung all the
beautiful and splendid forms which I should in vain attempt to
describe, that the mocking-bird should have fixed his abode, there
only that its wondrous song should be heard.
But where is that favored land? It is in that great continent to whose
distant shores Europe has sent forth her adventurous sons, to wrest
for themselves a habitation from the wild inhabitants of the forest,
and to convert the neglected soil into fields of exuberant fertility.
It is, reader, in Louisiana that these bounties of nature are in the
greatest perfection. It is there that you should listen to the
love-song of the mocking-bird, as I at this moment do. See how he
flies round his mate, with motions as light as those of the butterfly!
His tail is widely expanded, he mounts in the air to a small distance,
describes a circle, and, again alighting, approaches his beloved one,
his eyes gleaming with delight, for she has already promised to be his
and his only. His beautiful wings are gently raised, he bows to his
love, and, again bouncing upwards, opens his bill and pours forth his
melody, full of exultation at the conquest which he has made.
They are not the soft sounds of the flute or of the hautboy that I
hear, but the sweeter notes of Nature's own music. The mellowness of
the song, the varied modulations and gradations, the extent of its
compass, the great brilliancy of execution, are unrivalled. There is
probably no bird in the world that possesses all the musical
qualifications of this king of song, who has derived all from Nature's
self. Yes, reader, all!
No sooner has he again alighted, and the conjugal contract has been
sealed, than, as if his breast was about to be rent with delight, he
again pours forth his notes with more softness and richness than
before. He now soars higher, glancing around with a vigilant eye to
assure himself that none has witnessed his bliss. When these
love-scenes, visible only to the ardent lover of nature, are over, he
dances through the air, full of animation and delight, and as if to
convince his lovely mate that to enrich her hopes he has much more
love in store, he that moment begins anew and imitates all the notes
which Nature has imparted to the other songsters of the grove.
THE HUMMING-BIRD.
No sooner has the returning sun again introduced the vernal season,
and caused millions of plants to expand their leaves and blossoms to
his genial beams, than the little Humming-Bird is seen advancing on
fairy wings, carefully visiting every opening flower-cup, and, like a
curious florist, removing from each the injurious insects that
otherwise would ere long cause their beauteous petals to droop and
decay. Poised in the air, it is observed peeping cautiously, and with
sparkling eyes, into their innermost recesses, while the ethereal
motions of its pinions, so rapid and so light, appear to fan and cool
the flower, without injuring its fragile texture, and produce a
delightful murmuring sound, well adapted for lulling the insects to
repose. Then is the moment for the Humming-Bird to secure them. Its
long delicate bill enters the cup of the flower, and the protruded
double-tubed tongue, delicately sensible, and imbued with a glutinous
saliva, touches each insect in succession, and draws it from its
lurking place, to be instantly swallowed. All this is done in a
moment, and the bird, as it leaves the flower, sips so small a portion
of its liquid honey, that the theft, we may suppose, is looked upon
with a grateful feeling by the flower, which is thus kindly relieved
from the attacks of her destroyers. . . . . . . . Its gorgeous throat
in beauty and brilliancy baffles all competition. Now it glows with a
fiery hue, and again it is changed to the deepest velvety black. The
upper parts of its delicate body are of resplendent changing green;
and it throws itself through the air with a swiftness and vivacity
hardly conceivable. It moves from one flower to another like a gleam
of light, upwards, downwards, to the right, and to the left.
THOMAS HART BENTON.
~1782=1858.~
THOMAS HART BENTON was born in Hillsboro, North Carolina, and was
partly educated at the State University. He left before graduation,
however, and removed with his widowed mother to Tennessee, where
twenty-five miles south of Nashville they made a home, around which a
settlement called Bentontown gradually grew up.
He studied law with St. George Tucker, began to practice in Nashville,
and was elected to the State Legislature in 1811. In 1815 he removed
to St. Louis, and was elected United States Senator in 1820 on the
admission of Missouri to the Union. He worked heartily and
successfully in the interests of settlers in the West. His title "Old
Bullion" was derived from his famous speeches on the currency, during
Jackson's administration, and they gained him a European reputation.
He and Calhoun were opposed to each other on almost every question,
and they carried on a ferocious warfare in the Senate. He was a
Senator for thirty years, 1820-50, and his great work gives an account
of men and measures during that very exciting and intensely
interesting period, in which he was himself one of the most prominent
actors.
A fine statue was erected to him in the park at St. Louis.
WORKS.
Thirty Years' View of the Workings of Our Government.
Abridgment of the Debates of Congress.
Examination of the Dred Scott Case.
Benton's style as an orator was easy, full, and strong, showing him
well acquainted with his subject and confident of his powers.
The "Thirty Years' View" is noted for its excellent arrangement and
for a style easy and fluent yet not diffuse. "It is a succession of
historical tableaux," of which the following extract presents one of
the most famous.
THE DUEL BETWEEN RANDOLPH AND CLAY.
(_From Thirty Years' View._[7])