supremacy, it does not involve the most legitimate element of
precedence. There is no real ground of merit in the natural talents of a
man, any more than there is a ground of merit in personal beauty, or
family descent. He has nothing but what has been given him--the five
talents instead of his neighbor's one talent--and, so long as he does
not use them to their best purpose, there is only an admirable
possibility, no merit of achievement.
And all genuine merit--that which entitles one to some ground of human
precedence--comes from personal achievement in life; substantially, from
the stock of actual benefit which one has contributed to the world, and
which has become assimilated to his own spiritual nature. The ground of
precedence--so far as it is lawful for man to think of anything like
precedence at all--is not in outward possessions, not in gifts, but in
_uses_. And here is thrown open a broad and noble field, depending not
upon genius or station, but upon _will_, and therefore accessible to
every man. Here is an arena where one may strive lawfully, emulous to
build up his own inner nature, emulous to let such power as he possesses
go out in blessings for the world. A field for all of us, my friends,
right here in the dense city, amidst the hurrying feet, the clang of
machinery, and the roar of wheels. And the condition of the game is, not
large capacity but good purpose and loyal endeavor; not to strive
greatly but to strive lawfully.
And, I observe once more, that the real claim to precedence is not
eagerly snatched by us, but _comes_ to us. It is not in _seeming_ but in
_being_, and it makes no essential difference whether the world
confesses it or not, so long as we actually have it, working in our
consciousness of duty and drawing our consolation from inward resources.
Here, my friend, is your work--here is the field of opportunity, which,
however broad and rich absolutely, is for you great and pregnant with
incalculable possibilities. And though men may not see its best results,
they are nevertheless real, and develop in your own soul a light and
power, a ground and fabric of precedence that cannot be shaken, and will
never vanish away.
And yet, to a large extent, the world does confess this true supremacy.
For, let me ask, who among these crowds of citizens are really honored?
Not those who are so eagerly and vainly striving in their narrow,
conventional circle, heedful merely of the rules of their own little
game. But those who actually fill an honorable place in life. How much
acknowledged dignity is there in that man who just accepts his station
and makes the most of it, filling it with patience and self-sacrifice
and achieving the victory of principle and affection! How much genuine
nobleness in the quiet, unconscious discharge of duty! The field for
precedence is it not a broad one, and close at hand? And is there no
alternative between a frivolous and outside distinction, and some great
theatre of action large enough to fill and dazzle the world's eye?
Daily, right around us, there are occasions that summon up all the
energies of manhood as with a trumpet-peal. See yonder! where the
conflagration, bursting through marble walls, casts a terrible splendor
down the street and reddens the midnight sky. What an enemy has broken
loose among us, devouring the achievements of human skill and the hopes
of enterprise! What shall stay it? With a triumphant shout it snaps the
fetters of stone; it roars with victory; it bends its flaming crest
towards peaceful homes where men and mothers and babes lie in
unconscious slumber. The bell beats; and what old bugle-strain, what
pibroch, what rattling drum, ever sounded a more perilous call? And on
what battle-field that you have read of was there ever displayed a
loftier heroism, a more dauntless energy, than that man displays who,
with the unconscious courage of duty, plunges into the furnace, mounts
the quivering walls, and, making his own body a barrier between his
fellow-men and the flame, stands there scorched, bruised, bleeding, and
beats the red terror back and beats it down, with that irresistible
energy which always springs from the human will bent upon a noble
purpose?
And so, in other forms, more quiet and more sacred, where the
anticipation of public applause does not furnish its motive, men are
exercising a heroism, and working achievements, that make dim and pale
the trophies that are plucked from fields of war and in lists of
glittering renown. And when these things are known the hearts of men
render a spontaneous honor, and admit the genuine titles of supremacy.
Yet, if this true achievement in life is not known or confessed by the
world, its results really exist, and impart their inalienable strength
and blessing to the soul, while as the grounds of false supremacy
dissolve all gives way.
And, my friends, the tendency of things is to bring out more and more
these real claims to human precedence, and to throw all spurious titles
into the shade. This is the radical purport of true democracy, which I
take to be the social synonym of _Christianity_. I have shown what
inconsistencies and false distinctions swarm here in our midst, under
the profession of republican equality. This, however, is because names
are _not_ things. I don't call that "democracy" which is simply the
domineering spirit of self-exaltation in a new shape. For there is no
_essential_ difference whether we call the social order a monarchy or a
commonwealth; whether its leading men are Charles and Louis, or
Robespierre and Cromwell. If we must have the old social fallacies, they
appear more attractive with the old symbols. In that case, I would
rather not have them changed. For, when I look merely at the
_sentimental_ side of things, I feel sorry when the so-called "Royal
Martyr," with a dignity which contrasts with his past conduct, stretches
his head upon the block; or when the pitiless insults of a Parisian mob
are hurled upon the head of the beautiful Marie Antoinette. A poetic
regret and enthusiasm is awakened by the associations that cluster about
the Golden Lion and the Bourbon Lilies. And, when I turn to those grim
Ironsides, or those frantic Jacobins, the work they are doing looks
savage enough. But, with a more discriminating vision, I perceive that
that rude popular storm, which desolates palaces and shatters crowns,
embosoms a rectifying process which, tumbling all false distinctions
from their pedestals, shall by-and-by heave up the platform of social
justice, and reveal the true dignity of man. The essential work of
democracy is not the destruction of forms; is not the giant arm of
revolution, striking the hours of human progress by the crash of falling
thrones. But its great work is _construction_--is in changing the very
_spirit_ of institutions--and it asserts its legitimacy and bases its
claims upon the Christian doctrine of the human soul.
Therefore, I regard these spurious claims to precedence--these endeavors
after social distinction by virtue of riches, and equipage, and
wardrobes--as only evidences of a transition-state. Men, letting go the
feudal forms, and still assuming that there is some ground of human
precedence, as there really is, have adopted these false expressions of
it. They will in turn pass away, and give place to more genuine
methods.
But let it be remembered, that these false forms of precedence are not
only inconsistent with our social professions and institutions, but they
are futile because they are contrary to the Divine Law. Our endeavors in
life have a twofold operation, and we must count not only their effect
upon others but their reaction upon the fabric of our own inner being.
For, whatever honor _men_ may attribute to us, we know that there is no
real, substantial ground of supremacy except in the excellence and power
of our own spiritual nature. And this is acquired not in ostentatious
and selfish striving, but when self is least thought of; in the calm
work of duty, and when all conception of human merit fades into the
Glory of God. And this is the great end to be desired--this strength and
exaltation of the soul. This imparts the profoundest significance to
that great life-struggle which goes on in these crowded streets. The
city! what is it but a vast amphitheatre, filled with racers, with
charioteers, with eager competitors; surrounded by an unseen and awful
array of witnesses? And here, daily, the lists are opened, and men
contend for success, for station, for power. But these are meretricious
and perishable awards. The real prize is a spiritual gain, a crown that
"fadeth not away." And, if we comprehend the great purpose of existence
at all--if we look with any eagerness to its intrinsic issues and its
final result; we shall heed that decree of Divine Wisdom and Justice
that comes down to us through all the vicissitude of life--through all
the hurry and turmoil and contention. "If a man strive for masteries,
yet is he not crowned, except he strive lawfully."
THE SYMBOLS OF THE REPUBLIC.
DISCOURSE IV.
THE SYMBOLS OF THE REPUBLIC.
Thou art a great people, and hast great power.--JOSHUA, xvii. 17.
These words, originally addressed by the Hebrew Leader to the children
of Joseph--the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh--have been applicable to
many nations which, since that time, have risen, and flourished, and
fallen. But when we consider the circumstances of its origin, its
marvellous growth in all the attributes of civilization, and especially
the immense _possibilities_ which it involves; without even being
chargeable with a natural vanity, we may say, that to no country on the
face of the earth have they ever been more fitted than to this. For, my
friends, we know that it _is_ a dictate of our nature to magnify that
which is our own. However insignificant it really is, man spreads an
ideal glory over the land of his birth. Perhaps its historical
importance compensates for its geographical narrowness, or its material
poverty is hidden by its intellectual wealth. From its stock of mighty
men--its heroes, and bards, and sages--who have brightened the roll of
fame; or from its memorable battle-fields, on rude heath and in mountain
defile; or from its achievements which have swelled the tides of human
enterprise, and made the world its debtor; he draws the inspiration, he
carries away the conviction of greatness--so that wherever its emblems
come before his eyes, they touch the deep springs of reverence and
pride. Nor let us condemn this feeling as merely a selfish and
exaggerating one. This spirit of nationality exists for wise purposes,
embosoms the richest elements of loyalty and faith, and is one of those
profound _sentiments_ of our nature that cannot be driven out by any
process of logic.
But, if a nation really inherits the description in the text, it must
possess something more than an illustrious history and an ideal glory.
We must determine its greatness by its symbols; yet these must be not
merely signs of things, but instruments of achievement; not merely the
illustrations of dead works or patriotic enthusiasm, but the agents of
actual power and of living performance. Now, in looking over the world
at the present time, there are other nations to which the words of
Joshua might be applied as well as to our own, and with as little
assumption of national vanity. Other people are great and have great
power, by virtue of political importance, vast possessions, and strong
institutions. To say nothing of the rest, consider that huge domain
which at this hour confronts the troubled principalities of Europe. It
stretches itself out over three continents. The waves of three oceans
chafe against its shaggy sides. The energies of innumerable tribes are
throbbing in its breast. It clasps regions yet raw in history as well as
those that are grey with tradition, and incloses in one empire the bones
of the Siberian mammoth and the valleys of Circassian flowers. And it is
great not only by geographical extent, but by political purpose--great
by the idea which is involved with its destiny--an idea austere as the
climate, tremendous as the forces, indomitable as the will of the
gigantic north. It would set the inheritance of the Byzantine Emperors
in the diadem of Peter the Great. It would make the Sea of Marmara and
the ridges of the Caucasus, paths to illimitable empire and
uncompromising despotism. It moves down the map of the world, as a
glacier moves down the Alps, patient and relentless, startling the
jealous rivals that watch its course, and granting contemptuous peace to
the allies that shiver in its shadow.
In considering, therefore, the symbols which prove that we also are a
great people, having great power, we should select those which indicate
the possession of a _peculiar_ power. This peculiarity is not in our
geographical extent or material greatness. But it _is_, I think, in our
institutions, in the tendency of our national ideas, and in the
legitimate result of these. It is in conceptions and elements the direct
opposite of those that work in the destiny of the mighty empire just
referred to--and for this reason I _have_ referred to it.
In taking up a subject, then, which is especially connected with the
conditions of humanity in the city, because in the city the conception
of a people--of a public--is especially illustrated, let us
inquire--What _are_ the symbols of our republic; the signs and agents of
our greatness as a nation? And, for the sake of avoiding too many
specifications, I propose to consider these under two or three general
classes.
In the first place, then, I would select as a symbol of the Republic,
_Whatever represents the privilege of Free Thought_. As to whatever
gives full play to the intellect, whatever diffuses the intelligence,
whatever wakes up and assists the entire spiritual nature of individuals
and communities, I think there is really more opportunity here than
anywhere else on the face of the earth. And, as a sign and instrument of
this, I would point to some _District School-house_; rough,
weather-worn, standing in some bleak corner of New York or New
Hampshire; through whose closed windows the passer-by catches the
confused hum of recitation, or at whose door he sees children of all
conditions mingling in motley play. Of all conditions, so far as
external peculiarities go; for the laws of nature and the ordinances of
Providence cannot be dispensed with even here; but of one condition as
the recognized possessors of immortal _mind_. Those who have helped
mould the Republic have clearly seen that, although intelligence is not
the foundation of national greatness--for there is something deeper than
that--still it is the discerning and directing power upon which depends
the right use even of moral elements. They have scouted the notion that
there is any ultimate evil in diffused knowledge; any such thing as "a
dangerous truth;" and have affirmed that the best way to winnow the
false from the true, is to equip and set a-going the intellectual
machine by which God has ordained that the work shall be done. It has
been felt, that, if the State can properly extend its influence anywhere
beyond the restrictive limits of evil, or the punishment of overt wrong;
if anywhere it may exercise a positive ministration for good; it is
here, where it does not interfere on the one hand with those outward
pursuits which should be left to individual choice and aptitude, nor on
the other, with those inward sanctities which pertain to conscience and
to God; it is here, in that region of our personality from which we can
best discern our duty and fill our place. For the intellect is the most
neutral of all our qualities. Man is swayed by the animal propensities
of his nature; he is swayed by the moral and religious elements of his
nature; but the intellect, by itself, is not a motive power. It is a
_light_; and no one will object to its being kindled except those who,
by that objection, virtually confess that they fear the light. And this
work of kindling is just what the state purposes to do for a child;
leaving his religious convictions to such helps as conscience has
chosen, and his position in life to the decision of circumstances. And
there is no way in which it can show so much impartiality, and exercise
practically the most essential conception of freedom. For thus, as I
have already said, it recognizes a common inheritance--something which
all have--the possession of _mind_--something which is of more
importance than any external condition, for it influences external
condition; (whoever saw an educated community of which anything like a
large fraction were paupers and criminals?) something on which rests the
claim of human freedom; for the charter of man's liberty is in his soul,
not his estate. It says to the poorest child--"You are rich in this one
endowment, before which all external possessions grow dim. No piled-up
wealth, no social station, no throne, reaches as high as that spiritual
plane upon which every human being stands by virtue of his humanity; and
from that plane, mingling now in the Common School with the lowliest and
the lordliest, we give you the opportunity to ascend as high as you may.
We put into your hands the key of knowledge; leaving your religious
convictions, with which we dare not interfere, to your chosen guides. So
far as the intellectual path may lead, it is open to you.--Go free!" And
when we consider the great principles which are thus practically
confessed; when we consider the vast consequences which grow out of
this; I think that little District School-house dilates, grows
splendid, makes our hearts beat with admiration and gratitude, makes us
resolve that at all events, _that_ must stand; for, indeed, it is one of
the noblest symbols of the Republic--a sign and an instrument of a great
people, having great power.
Or, if you would behold another of these symbols, go through this city,
and pause wherever you hear the rumbling of the _Printing-Press_. As I
have dwelt upon the characteristics of this great power in another
place, I only allude to it here as a vehicle of that _expression_ which
is so essential to all genuine freedom of thought. Mere education is no
evidence of this freedom. It may be made, it has been made in one of the
most intelligent but despotic countries in Europe, an instrument for
drilling the human mind into an absolute routine of state policy. Mere
liberty of speculation is nothing, though it has the boundless firmament
of abstraction for its own, so long as it is not allowed to strike the
solid ground of fact or touch one organized abuse. Let us be thankful
for a free-press--the electric tongue of thought, which at every stroke
is felt throughout a continent, which no dictator dares to chain, and
over whose issues no censor sits in judgment--or only that great censor,
public opinion. Everybody is aware of its evil as well as its good--the
errors, the crudities, the abominations it sends out. But we must
remember that it is only the representative, the voice, of elements that
actually exist in human minds and bosoms; and, surely, it is better that
they should come out into the free air, and be sprinkled by the chloride
of truth, than to work darkly and infectiously out of sight. It is the
hidden, not the open evil that is dangerous.
Or, still again, you might have seen a true symbol of the Republic in
the spectacle which has been presented this very day--the spectacle of a
_Free Worship_. The great stream of religious impulse has poured through
these streets, and separated into its rills of distinctive opinion,
without trepidation and without challenge. Every man has had the
opportunity to commune with his God, and approach the Cross of his
Redeemer, with no established barriers between. Neither the cathedral
nor the chapel rest upon the patronage of the state, but in the deep
foundations of individual conviction. To be sure, here and there, there
is a little assumption; but it is dramatic rather than substantial, and
does not amount to much. Here and there breaks out an unjust prejudice
or a spiteful calumny, but it shames the source more than the object,
and soon dies away in the atmosphere of tolerance and investigation. It
looks doubtful sometimes, but I verily believe that the real spirit, as
well as the mere form of Religious equality, is beginning to prevail.
Every day, it is more and more practically acknowledged that
Christianity is profounder than any name, and exists under strange and
despised names; that there really is decent observance in every church,
and holy living in every communion; and a man finds that his neighbor
has the same essence of righteousness as himself, though he has not half
so many links in his creed. And something more than tolerance grows out
of this practical liberty. It is not easy to measure the moral
sincerity, the moral principle, which results from it; which is far more
precious than mere intelligence; which is the perennial spring and
assurance of national welfare.
But I proceed to observe, in the second place, that we may select as a
symbol of the Republic--a sign and an instrument of a great people,
having great power--whatever illustrates the principle of _Political
Equality_. I am speaking, at present, not of our deficiencies, but of
our possessions; not of the instances in which this doctrine of equality
is practically contradicted, but of those in which it is practically
acknowledged. The sovereignty of every man is a fundamental principle in
our institutions; it is essential to the conception of a Republic; and
so far as it _is_ legitimately a Republic, we shall find this principle
in operation. And, looking around for some extant symbol of this, let me
select that which is the object of so much strife and agitation--the
_Presidential Chair_. I do not, by any means, consider this the most
comfortable seat in the nation, or that the most deserving man is sure
to get there; but, as an emblem, I believe it illustrates the noblest
privileges, and the proudest supremacy, on the face of the globe. And I
refer to it as a _possibility_ for the poorest and humblest child in the
land. No hereditary gallery leads to it--only the broad road of the
people. And, as the highest seat in the nation, it illustrates all the
honors of the nation. They are possible to anybody. And I trust the time
has not yet arrived when this can be said only by way of satire; can be
true only because the waves of political corruption carry the meanest
and unworthiest into office; but as a grand fact, a fact with which are
involved the springs of our national greatness and power, it may be said
that here there are no barriers of caste, no terms of descent, no depths
so low that enterprise cannot rise out of them, no heights so exalted
that genius cannot attain them; for, on a platform as level to the
peasant's threshold as to the nabob's door, stand the judge's bench, the
senator's seat, and the President's chair.