RUFUS CHOATE

EULOGY OF WEBSTER[10] (1853)

Webster possessed the element of an impressive character,

inspiring regard, trust and admiration, not unmingled with

love. It had, I think, intrinsically a charm such as

belongs only to a good, noble, and beautiful nature. In its

combination with so much fame, so much force of will, and

so much intellect, it filled and fascinated the imagination

and heart. It was affectionate in childhood and youth, and

it was more than ever so in the few last months of his long

life. It is the universal testimony that he gave to his

parents, in largest measure, honor, love, obedience; that

he eagerly appropriated the first means which he could

command to relieve the father from his debts contracted to

educate his brother and himself; that he selected his first

place of professional practice that he might soothe the

coming on of his old age.

Equally beautiful was his love of all his kindred and of

all his friends. When I hear him accused of selfishness,

and a cold, bad nature, I recall him lying sleepless all

night, not without tears of boyhood, conferring with

Ezekiel how the darling desire of both hearts should be

compassed, and he, too, admitted to the precious privileges

of education; courageously pleading the cause of both

brothers in the morning; prevailing by the wise and

discerning affection of the mother; suspending his studies

of the law, and registering deeds and teaching school to

earn the means, for both, of availing themselves of the

opportunity which the parental self-sacrifice had placed

within their reach; loving him through life, mourning him

when dead, with a love and a sorrow very wonderful, passing

the sorrow of woman; I recall the husband, the father of

the living and of the early departed, the friend, the

counselor of many years, and my heart grows too full and

liquid for the refutation of words.

His affectionate nature, craving ever friendship, as well

as the presence of kindred blood, diffused itself through

all his private life, gave sincerity to all his

hospitalities, kindness to his eye, warmth to the pressure

of his hand, made his greatness and genius unbend

themselves to the playfulness of childhood, flowed out in

graceful memories indulged of the past or of the dead, of

incidents when life was young and promised to be

happy,--gave generous sketches of his rivals,--the high

contention now hidden by the handful of earth,--hours

passed fifty years ago with great authors, recalled for the

vernal emotions which they then made to live and revel in

the soul. And from these conversations of friendship, no

man--no man, old or young--went away to remember one word

of profaneness, one allusion of indelicacy, one impure

thought, one unbelieving suggestion, one doubt cast on the

reality of virtue, of patriotism, of enthusiasm, of the

progress of man,--one doubt cast on righteousness, or

temperance, or judgment to come.

I have learned by evidence the most direct and satisfactory

that in the last months of his life, the whole

affectionateness of his nature--his consideration of

others, his gentleness, his desire to make them happy and

to see them happy--seemed to come out in more and more

beautiful and habitual expressions than ever before. The

long day's public tasks were felt to be done; the cares,

the uncertainties, the mental conflicts of high place, were

ended; and he came home to recover himself for the few

years which he might still expect would be his before he

should go hence to be here no more. And there, I am assured

and duly believe, no unbecoming regrets pursued him; no

discontent, as for injustice suffered or expectations

unfulfilled; no self-reproach for anything done or anything

omitted by himself; no irritation, no peevishness unworthy

of his noble nature; but instead, love and hope for his

country, when she became the subject of conversation, and

for all around him, the dearest and most indifferent, for

all breathing things about him, the overflow of the kindest

heart growing in gentleness and benevolence--paternal,

patriarchal affections, seeming to become more natural,

warm, and communicative every hour. Softer and yet brighter

grew the tints on the sky of parting day; and the last

lingering rays, more even than the glories of noon,

announced how divine was the source from which they

proceeded; how incapable to be quenched; how certain to

rise on a morning which no night should follow.

Such a character was made to be loved. It was loved. Those

who know and saw it in its hour of calm--those who could

repose on that soft grass--loved him. His plain neighbors

loved him; and one said, when he was laid in his grave,

"How lonesome the world seems!" Educated young men loved

him. The ministers of the gospel, the general intelligence

of the country, the masses afar off, loved him. True, they

had not found in his speeches, read by millions, so much

adulation of the people; so much of the music which robs

the public reason of itself; so many phrases of humanity

and philanthropy; and some had told them he was lofty and

cold--solitary in his greatness; but every year they came

nearer and nearer to him, and as they came nearer, they

loved him better; they heard how tender the son had been,

the husband, the brother, the father, the friend, and

neighbor; that he was plain, simple, natural, generous,

hospitable--the heart larger than the brain; that he loved

little children and reverenced God, the Scriptures, the

Sabbath day, the Constitution, and the law--and their

hearts clave unto him. More truly of him than even of the

great naval darling of England might it be said that "his

presence would set the church bells ringing, and give

schoolboys a holiday, would bring children from school and

old men from the chimney-corner, to gaze on him ere he

died." The great and unavailing lamentations first revealed

the deep place he had in the hearts of his countrymen.

You are now to add to his extraordinary power of

influencing the convictions of others by speech, and you

have completed the survey of the means of his greatness.

And here, again, I begin, by admiring an aggregate made up

of excellences and triumphs, ordinarily deemed

incompatible. He spoke with consummate ability to the

bench, and yet exactly as, according to every sound canon

of taste and ethics, the bench ought to be addressed. He

spoke with consummate ability to the jury, and yet exactly

as, according to every sound canon, that totally different

tribunal ought to be addressed. In the halls of Congress,

before the people assembled for political discussion in

masses, before audiences smaller and more select, assembled

for some solemn commemoration of the past or of the

dead--in each of these, again, his speech, of the first

form of ability, was exactly adapted, also, to the critical

proprieties of the place; each achieved, when delivered,

the most instant and specific success of eloquence--some of

them in a splendid and remarkable degree; and yet, stranger

still, when reduced to writing, as they fell from his lips,

they compose a body of reading in many volumes--solid,

clear, rich, and full of harmony--a classical and permanent

political literature.

And yet all these modes of his eloquence, exactly adapted

each to its stage and its end, were stamped with his image

and superscription, identified by characteristics incapable

to be counterfeited and impossible to be mistaken. The same

high power of reason, intent in every one to explore and

display some truth; some truth of judicial, or historical,

or biographical fact; some truth of law, deducted by

construction, perhaps, or by illation; some truth of

policy, for want whereof a nation, generations, may be

worse--reason seeking and unfolding truth; the same tone,

in all, of deep earnestness, expressive of strong desire

that which he felt to be important should be accepted as

true, and spring up to action; the same transparent, plain,

forcible, and direct speech, conveying his exact thought to

the mind--not something less or more; the same sovereignty

of form, of brow, and eye, and tone, and manner--everywhere

the intellectual king of men, standing before you--that

same marvelousness of qualities and results, residing, I

know not where, in words, in pictures, in the ordering of

ideas, in felicities indescribable, by means whereof,

coming from his tongue, all things seemed mended--truth

seemed more true, probability more plausible, greatness

more great, goodness more awful, every affection more

tender than when coming from other tongues--these are, in

all, his eloquence.

But sometimes it became individualized and discriminated

even from itself; sometimes place and circumstance, great

interests at stake, a stage, an audience fitted for the

highest historic action, a crisis, personal or national,

upon him, stirred the depths of that emotional nature, as

the anger of the goddess stirs the sea on which the great

epic is beginning; strong passions, themselves kindled to

intensity, quickened every faculty to a new life; the

stimulated associations of ideas brought all treasures of

thought and knowledge within command; the spell, which

often held his imagination fast, dissolved, and she arose

and gave him to choose of her urn of gold; earnestness

became vehemence, the simple, perspicuous, measured and

direct language became a headlong, full, and burning tide

of speech; the discourse of reason, wisdom, gravity, and

beauty changed to that superhuman, that rarest consummate

eloquence--grand, rapid, pathetic, terrible; the _aliquid

immensum infinitumque_ that Cicero might have recognized;

the master triumph of man in the rarest opportunity of his

noble power.

Such elevation above himself, in congressional debate, was

most uncommon. Some such there were in the great

discussions of executive power following the removal of the

deposits, which they who heard them will never forget, and

some which rest in the tradition of hearers only. But there

were other fields of oratory on which, under the influence

of more uncommon strings of inspiration, he exemplified, in

still other forms, an eloquence in which I do not know that

he has had a superior among men. Addressing masses by tens

of thousands in the open air, on the urgent political

questions of the day, or designed to lead the meditations

of an hour devoted to the remembrance of some national era,

or of some incident marking the progress of the nation, and

lifting him up to a view of what is, and what is past, and

some indistinct revelation of the glory that lies in the

future, or of some great historical name, just borne by the

nation to his tomb--we have learned that then and there, at

the base of Bunker Hill, before the corner-stone was laid,

and again when the finished column the centuries looked on

him; in Faneuil Hall, mourning for those with whom spoken

or written eloquence of freedom its arches had so often

resounded; on the Rock of Plymouth; before the Capitol, of

which there shall not be one stone left on another before

his memory shall have ceased to live--in such scenes,

unfettered by the laws of forensic or parliamentary debate,

multitudes uncounted lifting up their eyes to him; some

great historical scenes of America around; all symbols of

her glory and art and power and fortune there; voices of

the past, not unheard; shapes beckoning from the future,

not unseen--sometimes that mighty intellect, borne upward

to a height and kindled to an illumination which we shall

see no more, wrought out, as it were, in an instant a

picture of vision, warning, prediction; the progress of the

nation; the contrasts of its eras; the heroic deaths; the

motives to patriotism; the maxims and arts imperial by

which the glory has been gathered and may be

heightened--wrought out, in an instant, a picture to fade

only when all record of our mind shall die.

In looking over the public remains of his oratory, it is

striking to remark how, even in that most sober and massive

understanding and nature, you see gathered and expressed

the characteristic sentiments and the passing time of our

America. It is the strong old oak which ascends before you;

yet our soil, our heaven, are attested in it as perfectly

as if it were a flower that could grow in no other climate

and in no other hour of the year or day. Let me instance in

one thing only. It is a peculiarity of some schools of

eloquence that they embody and utter, not merely the

individual genius and character of the speaker, but a

national consciousness--a national era, a mood, a hope, a

dread, a despair--in which you listen to the spoken history

of the time. There is an eloquence of an expiring nation,

such as seems to sadden the glorious speech of Demosthenes;

such as breathes grand and gloomy from the visions of the

prophets of the last days of Israel and Judah; such as gave

a spell to the expression of Grattan and of Kossuth--the

sweetest, most mournful, most awful of the words which man

may utter, or which man may hear--the eloquence of a

perishing nation.

There is another eloquence, in which the national

consciousness of a young or renewed and vast strength, of

trust in a dazzling certain and limitless future, an inward

glorying in victories yet to be won, sounds out as by voice

of clarion, challenging to contest for the highest prize of

earth; such as that in which the leader of Israel in the

first days holds up to the new nation the Land of Promise;

such as that which in the well-imagined speeches scattered

by Livy over the history of the "majestic series of

victories" speaks the Roman consciousness of growing

aggrandizement which should subject the world; such as that

through which, at the tribunes of her revolution, in the

bulletins of her rising soldiers, France told the world her

dream of glory.

And of this king somewhat is ours--cheerful, hopeful,

trusting, as befits youth and spring; the eloquence of a

state beginning to ascend to the first class of power,

eminence, and consideration, and conscious of itself. It is

to no purpose that they tell you it is in bad taste; that

it partakes of arrogance and vanity; that a true national

good breeding would not know, or seem to know, whether the

nation is old or young; whether the tides of being are in

their flow or ebb; whether these coursers of the sun are

sinking slowly to rest, wearied with a journey of a

thousand years, or just bounding from the Orient

unbreathed. Higher laws than those of taste determine the

consciousness of nations. Higher laws than those of taste

determine the general forms of the expression of that

consciousness. Let the downward age of America find its

orators and poets and artists to erect its spirit, or

grace, and soothe its dying; be it ours to go up with

Webster, to the Rock, the Monument, the Capitol, and bid

"the distant generations hail!"

Until the seventh day of March, 1850, I think it would have

been accorded to him by an almost universal acclaim, as

general and as expressive of profound and intelligent

conviction and of enthusiasm, love, and trust, as ever

saluted conspicuous statesmanship, tried by many crises of

affairs in a great nation, agitated ever by parties, and

wholly free.

JOHN BRIGHT

The Strength of the American Government (1863)

Will anybody deny that the Government at Washington as

regards its own people is the strongest Government in the

world at this hour? And for this simple reason: because it

is based on the will, and the good will, of an instructed

people. Look at its power! I am not now discussing why it

is, or the cause which is developing this power; but power

is the thing which men regard in these old countries, and

which they ascribe mainly to European institutions; but

look at the power which the United States have developed!

They have brought more men into the field, they have built

more ships for their navy, they have shown greater

resources, than any nation in Europe at this moment is

capable of. Look at the order which has prevailed at their

elections, at which, as you see by the papers, fifty

thousand, or one hundred thousand, or two hundred and fifty

thousand persons voting in a given state, with less

disorder than you have seen lately in three of the smallest

boroughs in England. Look at their industry.

Notwithstanding this terrible struggle, their agriculture,

their manufactures and commerce proceed with an

uninterrupted success. They are ruled by a President,

chosen, it is true, not from some worn-out royal or noble

blood, but from the people, and the one whose truthfulness

and spotless honor have claimed him universal praise; and

now the country that has been vilified through half the

organs of the press in England during the last three years,

and was pointed out, too, as an example to be shunned by

many of your statesmen, that country, now in mortal strife,

affords a haven and a home for multitudes flying from the

burdens and the neglect of the old governments of Europe;

and, when this mortal strife is over--when peace is

restored, when slavery is destroyed, when the Union is

cemented afresh--for I would say, in the language of one of

our own poets addressing his country,

The grave's not dug where traitor hands shall lay

In fearful haste thy murdered corse away--

then Europe and England may learn that an instructed

democracy is the surest foundation of government, and that

education and freedom are the only sources of true

greatness and true happiness among any people.

GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS

ROBERT BURNS[11] (1880)

Burns died at the same age with Raphael; and Mozart, who

was his contemporary, died only four years before him.

Raphael and Mozart are the two men of lyrical genius in

kindred arts who impress us and the most exquisitely

refined by careful cultivation; and, although Burns was of

all great poets the most unschooled, he belongs with

Raphael in painting and Mozart in music, and there is no

fourth. An indescribable richness and flower-like quality,

a melodious grace and completeness and delicacy, belong to

them all. Looking upon a beautiful human Madonna of

Raphael, we seem to hear the rippling cadence of Mozart and

the tender and true song of Burns. They are all voices of

the whole world speaking in this accent of a native land.

Here are Italy and Germany and Scotland, distinct,

individual, perfectly recognizable, but the sun that

reveals and illuminates their separate charms, that is not

Italian or German or Scotch, it is the sun of universal

nature. This is the singer whom this statue commemorates,

the singer of songs immortal as love; pure as the dew of

the morning, and sweet as its breath; songs with which the

lover wooes his bride, and the mother soothes her child,

and the heart of a people beats with patriotic exultation;

songs that cheer human endeavors, and console human sorrow,

and exalt human life. We cannot find out the secret of

their power until we know why the rose is sweet, or the

dew-drop pure, or the rainbow beautiful, we cannot know why

the poet is the best benefactor of humanity. Whether

because he reveals us to ourselves, or because he touches

the soul with the fervor of divine aspiration, whether

because in a world of sordid and restless anxiety he fills

us with serene joy, or puts into rythmic and permanent form

the best thoughts and hopes of man--who shall say? But none

the less is the heart's instinctive loyalty to the poet the

proof of its consciousness that he does all these things,

that he is the harmonizer, strengthener, and consoler. How

the faith of Christendom has been stayed for centuries upon

the mighty words of the old Hebrew bards and prophets, and

how the vast and inexpressible mystery of divine love and

power and purpose has been breathed into parable and poem!

If we were forced to surrender every expression of human

genius but one, surely we should retain poetry; and if we

were called upon to lose from the vast accumulation of

literature all but a score of books, among that choice, and

perfect remainder would be the songs of Burns.

How fitly, then, among the memorials of those who in

different countries and times and ways have been leaders of

mankind, we raise this statue of the poet whose genius is

an unconscious but sweet and elevating influence in our

national life. It is not a power dramatic, obvious,

imposing, immediate, like that of the statesman, the

warrior, and the inventor, but it is as deep and strong and

abiding. The soldier fights for his native land, but the

poet touches that land with the charm that makes it worth

fighting for, and fires the warrior's heart with the fierce

energy that makes his blow invincible. The statesman

enlarges and orders liberty in the state, but the poet

fosters the love of liberty in the heart of the citizen.

The inventor multiplies the facilities of life, but the

poet makes life better worth living. Here, then, among

trees and flowers and waters; here upon the greensward and

under the open sky; here where birds carol, and children

play, and lovers whisper, and the various stream of human

life flows by--we raise the statue of Robert Burns. While

the human heart beats, that name will be music in human

ears. He knew better than we the pathos of human life. We

know better than he the infinite pathos of his own. Ah!

Robert Burns, Robert Burns! whoever lingers here as he

passes and muses upon your statue will see in imagination a

solitary mountain in your own beautiful Scotland,

heaven-soaring, wrapped in impenetrable clouds. Suddenly

the mists part, and there are the heather, the brier-rose,

and the gowan fine; there are the

Burnies, wimplin' down your glens

Wi' toddling' din,

Or foaming strang wi' hasty stens

Frae lin to lin;[12]

the cushat is moaning; the curlew is calling; the plover is

singing; the red dear is bounding; and look! the clouds

roll utterly away, and the clear summit is touched with the

tender glory of sunshine, heaven's own benediction!

L. Q. C. LAMAR

SUMNER AND THE SOUTH[13] (1874)

It was certainly a gracious act on the part of Charles

Sumner toward the South, though unhappily it jarred on the

sensibilities of the people at the other extreme of the

Union, to propose to erase from the banners of the national

army the mementos of the bloody internal struggle which

might be regarded as assailing the pride or wounding the

sensibilities of the Southern people. The proposal will

never be forgotten by that people so long as the name of

Charles Sumner lives in the memory of man.

But while it touched the heart and elicited her profound

gratitude, her people would not have asked of the North

such an act of self-renunciation. Conscious that they

themselves were animated by devotion to constitutional

liberty, and that the brightest pages of history are

replete with evidences of the depth and sincerity of that

devotion, they can but cherish the recollection of the

battles fought and the victories won in defense of their

hopeless cause; and respecting, as all true and brave men

must respect, the martial spirit with which the men of the

North vindicated the integrity of the Union, and their

devotion to the principles of human freedom, they do not

ask, they do not wish the North to strike the mementos of

heroism and victory from either records or monuments or

battle-flags. They would rather that both sections should

gather up the glories won by each section, not envious, but

proud of each other, and regard them as a common heritage

of American valor. Let us hope that future generations,

when they remember the deeds of heroism and devotion done

on both sides, will speak, not of northern prowess or

southern courage, but of the heroism, courage and fortitude

of the Americans in a war of ideas--a war in which each

section signalized its consecration to the principles, as

each understood them, of American liberty and of the

Constitution received from their fathers.

Charles Sumner in life believed that all occasion for

strife and distrust between the North and South had passed

away, and there no longer remained any cause for continued

estrangement between these two sections of our common

country. Are there not many of us who believe the same

thing? Is not the common sentiment, or if not, ought it not

to be, of the great mass of our people, North and South?

Bound to each other by a common constitution, destined to

life together under a common government, forming unitedly

but a single member of a great family of nations, shall we

not now at least endeavor to grow toward each other once

more in heart, as we are indissolubly linked to each other

in fortunes? Shall we not, while honoring the memory of

this great champion of liberty, this feeling sympathizer

with human sorrow, this earnest pleader for the exercise of

human tenderness and heavenly charity, lay aside the

concealments which serve only to perpetuate

misunderstandings and distrust, and frankly confess that on

both sides we most earnestly desire to be one--one not

merely in political organization; one not merely in

community of language, and literature, and traditions, and

country; but more and better than all that, one also in

feeling and in heart?

Am I mistaken in this? Do the concealments of which I speak

still cover animosities, which neither time nor reflection

nor the march of events have yet suffered to subdue? I can

not believe it. Since I have been here I have scrutinized

your sentiments, as expressed not merely in public debate,

but in the abandon of personal confidence. I know well the

sentiments of these by my southern friends, whose hearts

are so infolded that the feeling of each is the feeling of

all; and I am on both sides only the seeming of a

constraint which each apparently hesitates to dismiss.

The South--prostrate, exhausted, drained of her life-blood

as well as her material resources, yet still honorable and

true--accepts the bitter award of the bloody arbitrament

without reservation, resolutely determined to abide the

result with chivalrous fidelity. Yet, as if struck dumb by

the magnitude of her reverses, she suffers on in silence.

The North, exultant in her triumph and elevated by success,

still cherishes, as we are assured, a heart full of

magnanimous emotions toward her disarmed and discomfited

antagonist; and yet, as if under some mysterious spell, her

words and acts are words and acts of suspicion and

distrust. Would that the spirit of the illustrious dead,

whom we lament today, could speak from the grave to both

parties to this deplorable discord, in tones which would

reach each and every heart throughout this broad territory:

My country-men! know one another and you will love one

another.

ROBERT INGERSOLL

AT HIS BROTHER'S GRAVE[14] (1879)

My Friends: I am going to do that which the dead oft

promised he would do for me.

The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, dies

where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the

shadows were still falling toward the west.

He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks

the highest point, but, being weary for a moment, lay down

by the wayside, and, using his burden for a pillow, fell

into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids

still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the

world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust.

Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest,

sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are

kissing every sail, to task against the unseen rock, and in

an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. For,

whether in mid-sea or 'mong the breakers of the farther

shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all.

And every life, no matter if its every house is rich with

love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its

close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be

woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death.

This brave and tender man in every storm of life was oak

and rock, but in the sunshine he was vine and flower. He

was the friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the heights

and left all superstitions far below, while on his forehead

fell the golden dawning of the grander day.

He loved the beautiful, and was with color, form, and music

touched to tears. He sided with the weak, and with a

willing hand gave alms; with loyal heart and with purest

hands he faithfully discharged all public trusts.

He was a worshiper of liberty, a friend of the oppressed. A

thousand times I have heard him quite these words: "For

justice, all place a temple; and all seasons, summer." He

believed that happiness was the only good, reason the only

torch, justice the only worship, humanity the only

religion, and love the only priest. He added to the sum of

human joy; and were every one to whom he did some loving

service to bring a blossom to his grave, he would sleep

tonight beneath a wilderness of flowers.

Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of

two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the

heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of

our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying

dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope

sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a

wing.

He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of

death for the return of health, whispered with his last

breath: "I am better now." Let us believe, in spite of

doubts and dogmas, and tears and fears, that these dear

words are true of all the countless dead.

And now to you who have been chosen, from among the many

men he loved, to do the last sad office for the dead, we

give his sacred dust. Speech can not contain our love.

There was, there is, no greater, stronger, manlier man.

WILLIAM GLADSTONE

AGAINST THE TORY GOVERNMENT[15] (1880)

To those gentlemen who talk of the great vigor and

determination and success of the Tory government, I ask you

to compare the case of Bulgaria and Turkey. Try them by

principles, or try them by results, I care not which; we

knew what we were about and what was to be done when we had

integrity and independence to support. When they had

integrity and independence to protect they talked indeed

loud enough about supporting Turkey, and you would suppose

they were prepared to spend their resources upon it; but

all their measures have ended in nothing except that they

have reduced Turkey to a state of greater weakness than at

any portion of her history, whereas, on the other hand, in

regard to the twelve or thirteen millions of Slavs and

Roumanian population, they have made the name of England

odious throughout the whole population, and done everything

in their power to throw that population into the arms of

Russia, to be the tool of Russia in its plans and schemes,

unless, indeed, as I hope and am inclined to believe, the

virtue of free institutions that they have obtained will

make them too wise to become the tools of any foreign power

whatever, will make them intent upon maintaining their own

liberties, as becomes a free people playing a noble part in

the history of Europe.

I have detained you too long, and I will not, though I

would, pursue this subject further. I have shown you what I

think the miserable failure of the policy of the

government. Remember, we have a fixed point from which to

draw our measurements. Remember what in 1876 the proposal

of those who approved of the Bulgarian agitation and who

were denounced as the enemies of Turkey, remember what the

proposal would have done. It would have given autonomy to

Bulgaria, which has not got autonomy; but it would have

saved all the remainder at less detriment to the rest of

the Turkish Empire. Turkey would have had a fair chance.

Turkey would not have suffered the territorial losses which

she has elsewhere suffered, and which she has suffered, I

must say, in consequence of her being betrayed into the

false and mischievous, the tempting and seductive, but

unreal and unwise policy of the present administration.

There are other matters which must be reserved for other

times. We are told about the Crimean War. Sir Stafford

Northcote tells us the Crimean War, made by the Liberal

government, cost the country forty millions of debt, and an

income tax of one shilling and four pence per pound. Now

what is the use of telling us that? I will discuss the

Crimean War on some future occasion, but not now. If the

Liberal government were so clever that they contrived to

burden the country with forty millions of debt for this

Crimean War, why does he not go back to the war before that

and tell us what the Tory government did with the

Revolutionary War, when they left a debt on the country of

some nine hundred millions, of which six hundred and fifty

millions then had made in the Revolutionary War, and not

only so, but left the blessing and legacy of the corn laws,

and of a high protective system, an impoverished country,

and a discontented population--so much so that for years

that followed the great Revolutionary War, no man could say

whether the constitution of this country was or was not

worth five years' purchase. They might even go further back

than the Revolutionary War. They have been talking loudly

of the colonies, and say that, forsooth, the Liberal party

do nothing for the colonies. What did the Tory party do for

the colonies? I can tell you. Go to the war that preceded

the Revolutionary War. They made war against the American

continent. They added to the debt of the country two

hundred millions in order to destroy freedom in America.

They alienated it and drove it from this country. They were

compelled to bring this country to make an ignominious

peace; and, as far as I know, that attempt to put down

freedom in America, with its results to this country, is

the only one great fact which has ever distinguished the

relations between a Tory government and the colonies.

But gentlemen, these must be matters postponed for another

occasion. I thank you very cordially, both friends and

opponents, if opponents you be, for the extreme kindness

with which you have heard me. I have spoken, and I must

speak in very strong terms of the acts done by my

opponents. I will never say that they did it from

vindictiveness, I will never say that they did it from

passion, I will never say that they did it from a sordid

love of office; I have no right to use such words; I have

no right to entertain such sentiments; I repudiate and

abjure them. I give them credit for patriotic motives--I

give them credit for those patriotic motives which are

incessantly and gratuitously denied to us. I believe we are

all united in a fond attachment to the great country to

which we belong, to the great empire which has committed to

it a trust and function from Providence, as special and

remarkable as was ever entrusted to any portion of the

family of man. When I speak of that trust and that function

I feel that words fail. I cannot tell you what I think of

the nobleness of the inheritance which has descended upon

us, of the sacredness of the duty of maintaining it. I will

not condescend to make it a part of controversial politics.

It is a part of my being, of my flesh and blood, of my

heart and soul. For those ends I have labored through my

youth and manhood, and, more than that, till my hairs are

gray. In that faith and practice I have lived, and in that

faith and practice I shall die.

JAMES G. BLAINE

EULOGY OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD[16] (1881)

His terrible fate was upon him in an instant. One moment he

stood erect, strong, confident in the years stretching

peacefully out before him. The next he lay wounded,

bleeding, helpless; doomed to weary weeks of torture, to

silence, and the grave.

Great in life, Garfield was surpassingly great in death.

For no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness, by the red

hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of this

world's interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its

victories, into the visible presence of Death--and he did

not quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which,

stunned and dazed, he could give up life, hardly aware of

its relinquishment, but through days of deadly languor,

through weeks of agony, that was not less agony because

silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he

looked into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his

anguished eyes, whose lips may tell--what brilliant broken

plans, what baffled high ambitions, what sundering of warm,

strong, manhood's friendships, what bitter rending of sweet

household ties! behind him a proud, expectant nation, a

great host of sustaining friends, a cherished and happy

mother, wearing the full, rich honors of her early toil and

tears; the wife of his youth, whose whole life lay in his;

the little boys not yet emerged from childhood's days of

frolic; the fair, young daughter; the sturdy sons just

springing into closest companionship, claiming every day

and every day rewarding a father's love and care, and in

his heart the eager rejoicing power to meet all demands!

Before him desolation and great darkness! And his soul was

not shaken. His countrymen were thrilled with instant,

profound, and universal sympathy. Masterful in his mortal

weakness, he became the centre of a nation's love,

enshrined in the prayers of a world; but all the love and

all the sympathy could not share with him his suffering. He

trod the wine-press alone. With unfaltering front he faced

death. With unfailing tenderness he took leave of life.

Above the demoniac hiss of the assassin's bullet, he heard

the voice of God. With simple resignation, he bowed to the

Divine decree.

As the end drew near his early craving for the sea

returned. The stately mansion of power had been to him the

wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken from

its prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from

its homelessness and hopelessness. Gently, silently, the

love of a great people bore the pale sufferer to the

longed-for healing of the sea, to live or to die, as God

should will, within sight of its heaving billows, within

sound of its manifold voices. With wan, fevered face

tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze, he looked out

wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders; on its far

sails whitening in the morning light; on its restless waves

rolling shoreward to break and die beneath the noonday sun;

on the red clouds of evening arching low to the horizon; on

the serene and shining pathway of the stars. Let us think

that his dying eyes read a mystic meaning which only the

rapt and parting soul may know. Let us believe that in the

silence of the receding world he heard the great waves

breaking on a farther shore, and felt already upon his

wasted brow the breath of the eternal morning.

WILLIAM J. BRYAN

"THE CROSS OF GOLD" SPEECH[17] (1896)

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of the Convention: I would be

presumptuous indeed to present myself against the

distinguished gentlemen to whom you have listened if this

were a mere measuring of abilities; but this is not a

contest between persons. The humblest citizen in all the

land, when clad in the armor of a righteous cause, is

stronger than all the hosts of error. I come to speak to

you in defense of a cause as holy as the cause of

liberty--the cause of humanity.

When this debate is concluded, a motion will be made to lay

upon the table the resolution offered in commendation of

the Administration, and also the resolution offered in

condemnation of the Administration. We object to bringing

this question down to the level of persons. The individual

is but an atom; he is born, he acts, he dies; but

principles are eternal; and this has been a contest over a

principle.

Never before in the history of this country has there been

witnessed such a contest as that through which we have just

passed. Never before in the history of American politics

has a great issue been fought out as this issue has been,

by the voters of a great party. On the fourth of March,

1895, a few Democrats, most of them members of Congress,

issued an address to the Democrats of the nation, asserting

that the money question was the paramount issue of the

hour; declaring that a majority of the Democratic party had

the right to control the action of the party on this

paramount issue; and concluding with the request that the

believers in the free coinage of silver in the Democratic

party should organize, take charge of, and control the

policy of the Democratic party. Three months later, at

Memphis, an organization was perfected, and the silver

Democrats went forth openly and courageously proclaiming

their belief, and declaring that, if successful, they would

crystallize into a platform the declaration which they had

made. Then began the conflict. With a zeal approaching the

zeal which inspired the crusaders who followed Peter the

Hermit, our silver Democrats went forth from victory unto

victory until they are now assembled, not to discuss, not

to debate, but to enter up the judgment already rendered by

the plain people of this country. In this contest brother

has been arrayed against brother, father against son. The

warmest ties of love, acquaintance, and association have

been disregarded; old leaders have been cast aside when

they refused to give expression unto the sentiments of

those whom they would lead, and new leaders have sprung up

to give direction to this cause of truth. Thus has the

contest been waged, and we have assembled here under as

binding and solemn instructions as were ever imposed upon

representatives of the people.

We do not come as individuals. As individuals we might have

been glad to compliment the gentleman from New York

(Senator Hill), but we know that the people for whom we

speak would never be willing to put him in a position where

he could thwart the will of the Democratic party. I say it

was not a question of persons; it was a question of

principle, and it is not with gladness, my friends, that we

find ourselves brought into conflict with those who are now

arrayed on the other side.

The gentleman who preceded me (ex-Governor Russell) spoke

of the State of Massachusetts; let me assure him that not

one present in all this Convention entertains the least

hostility to the people of the state of Massachusetts, but

we stand here representing the people who are the equals,

before the law, of the greatest citizens in the state of

Massachusetts. When you [turning to the gold delegates]

come before us and tell us that we are about to disturb

your business interests, we reply that you have disturbed

our business interests by your course.

We say to you that you have made the definition of a

business man too limited in its applications. The man who

is employed for wages is as much a business man as his

employer; the attorney in a country town is as much a

business man as the corporation counsel in a great

metropolis; the merchant at the cross-roads store is as

much a business man as the merchant of New York; the farmer

who goes forth in the morning and toils all day, who begins

in spring and toils all summer, and who by the application

of brains and muscle to the natural resources of the

country creates wealth, is as much a business man as the

man who goes upon the Board of Trade and bets upon the

price of grain; the miners who go down a thousand feet into

the earth, or climb two thousand feet upon the cliffs, and

bring forth from their hiding places the precious metals to

be poured into the channels of trade are as much business

men as the few financial magnates who, in a back room,

corner the money of the world. We come to speak of this

broader class of business men.

Ah, my friends, we say not one word against those who live

upon the Atlantic coast, but the hardy pioneers who have

braved all the dangers of the wilderness, who have made the

desert to blossom as the rose--the pioneers away out there

[pointing to the West], who rear their children near to

Nature's heart, where they can mingle their voices with the

voices of the birds--out there where they have erected

schoolhouses for the education of their young, churches

where they praise their Creator, and cemeteries where rest

the ashes of their dead--these people, we say, are as

deserving of the consideration of our party as any people

in this country. It is for these that we speak. We do not

come as aggressors. Our war is not a war of conquest; we

are fighting in the defense of our homes, our families, and

posterity. We have petitioned, and our petitions have been

scorned; we have entreated, and our entreaties have been

disregarded; we have begged, and they have mocked when our

calamity came. We beg no longer; we entreat no more; we

petition no more. We defy them!

The gentleman from Wisconsin has said that he fears a

Robespierre. My friends, in this land of the free you need

not fear that a tyrant will spring up from among the

people. What we need is an Andrew Jackson to stand, as

Jackson stood, against the encroachments of organized

wealth.

They tell us that this platform was made to catch votes. We

reply to them that changing conditions make new issues;

that the principles upon which Democracy rests are as

everlasting as the hills, but that they must be applied to

new conditions as they arise. Conditions have arisen, and

we are here to meet those conditions. They tell us that the

income tax ought not to be brought in here; that it is a

new idea. They criticize us for our criticism of the

Supreme Court of the United States. My friends, we have not

criticized; we have simply called attention to what you

already know. If you want criticisms, read the dissenting

opinions of the court. There you will find criticisms. They

say that we passed an unconstitutional law; we deny it. The

income tax law was not unconstitutional when it was passed;

it was not unconstitutional when it went before the Supreme

Court for the first time; it did not become

unconstitutional until one of the judges changed his mind,

and we cannot be expected to know when a judge will change

his mind. The income tax is just. It simply intends to put

the burdens of government justly upon the backs of the

people. I am in favor of an income tax. When I find a man

who is not willing to bear his share of the burdens of the

government which protects him, I find a man who is unworthy

to enjoy the blessings of a government like ours.

They say that we are opposing national bank currency; it is

true. If you will read what Thomas Benton said, you will

find he said that, in searching history, he could find but

one parallel to Andrew Jackson; that was Cicero, who

destroyed the conspiracy of Catiline and saved Rome. Benton

said that Cicero only did for Rome what Jackson did for us

when he destroyed the bank conspiracy and saved America. We

say in our platform that we believe that the right to coin

and issue money is a function of government. We believe it.

We believe that it is a part of sovereignty, and can no

more with safety be delegated to private individuals than

we could afford to delegate to private individuals the

power to make penal statutes or levy taxes. Mr. Jefferson,

who was once regarded as good Democratic authority, seems

to have differed in opinion from the gentleman who has

addressed us on the part of the minority. Those who are

opposed to this proposition tell us that the issue of paper

money is a function of the bank, and that the government

ought to go out of the banking business. I stand with

Jefferson rather than with them, and tell them, as he did,

that the issue of money is a function of government, and

that the banks ought to go out of the governing business.

They complain about the plank which declares against life

tenure in office. They have tried to strain it to mean that

which it does not mean. What we oppose by that plank is the

life tenure which is built up in Washington, and which

excludes from participation in official benefits the humble

members of society.

Let me call your attention to two or three important

things. The gentleman from New York says that he will

propose an amendment to the platform providing that the

proposed change in our monetary system shall not affect

contracts already made. Let me remind you that there is no

intention of affecting these contracts which, according to

the present laws, are made payable in gold; but if he means

to say that we cannot change our monetary system without

protecting those who have loaned money before the change

was made, I desire to ask him where, in law or in morals,

he can find justification for not protecting the debtors

when the act of 1873 was passed, if he now insists that we

must protect the creditors.

He says he will also propose an amendment which will

provide for the suspension of free coinage if we fail to

maintain a parity within a year. We reply that when we

advocate a policy which we believe will be successful, we

are not compelled to raise a doubt as to our own sincerity

by suggesting what we shall do if we fail. I ask him, if he

would apply his logic to us, why he does not apply it to

himself. He says he wants this country to try to secure an

international agreement. Why does he not tell us what he is

going to do if he fails to secure an international

agreement? There is more reason for him to do that than

there is for us to provide against the failure to maintain

the parity. Our opponents have tried for twenty years to

secure an international agreement, and those are waiting

for it most patiently who do not want it at all.

And now, my friends, let me come to the paramount issue. If

they ask us why it is that we say more on the money

question than we say upon the tariff question, I reply

that, if protection has slain its thousands, the gold

standard has slain its tens of thousands. If they ask us

why we do not embody in our platform all the things that we

believe in, we reply that when we have restored the money

of the Constitution all other necessary reforms will be

possible; but that until this is done there is no other

reform that can be accomplished.

Why is it that within three months such a change has come

over the country? Three months ago, when it was confidently

asserted that those who believe in the gold standard would

frame our platform and nominate our candidates, even the

advocates of the gold standard did not think that we could

elect a President. And they had good reason for their

doubt, because there is scarcely a state here today asking

for the gold standard which is not in the absolute control

of the Republican party. But note the change. Mr. McKinley

was nominated at St. Louis upon a platform which declared

for the maintenance of the gold standard until it can be

changed into bimetallism by international agreement. Mr.

McKinley was the most popular man among the Republicans,

and three months ago everybody in the Republican party

prophesied his election. How is it today? Why, the man who

was once pleased to think that he looked like

Napoleon--that man shudders today when he remembers that he

was nominated on the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo.

Not only that, but as he listens he can hear with

ever-increasing distinctness the sound of the waves as they

beat upon the lonely shores of St. Helena.

Why this change? Ah, my friends, is not the reason for the

change evident to any one who will look at the matter? No

private character, however, pure, no personal popularity,

however great, can protect from the avenging wrath of an

indignant people a man who will declare that he is in favor

of fastening the gold standard upon this country, or who is

willing to surrender the right of self-government and place

the legislative control of our affairs in the hands of

foreign potentates and powers.

We go forth confident that we shall win. Why? Because upon

the paramount issue of this campaign there is not a spot of

ground upon which the enemy will dare to challenge battle.

If they tell us that the gold standard is a good thing, we

shall point to their platform and tell them that their

platform pledges the party to get rid of the gold standard

and substitute bimetallism. If the gold standard is a good

thing, why try to get rid of it? I call your attention to

the fact that some of the very people who are in this

Convention today and who tell us that we ought to declare

in favor of international bimetallism--thereby declaring

that the gold standard is wrong and that the principle of

bimetallism is better--these very people four months ago

were open and avowed advocates of the gold standard, and

were then telling us that we could not legislate two metals

together, even with the aid of all the world. If the gold

standard is a good thing we ought to declare in favor of

its retention and not in favor of abandoning it; and if the

gold standard is a bad thing why should we wait until other

nations are willing to help us to let go? Here is the line

of battle, and we care not upon which issue they force the

fight; we are prepared to meet them on either side or on

both. If they tell us that the gold standard is the

standard of civilization, we reply to them that this, the

most enlightened of all the nations of the earth, has never

declared for a gold standard and that both the great

parties this year are declaring against it. If the gold

standard is the standard of civilization, why, my friends,

should we not have it? If they come to meet us on that

issue we can present the history of our nation. More than

that; we can tell them that they will search the pages of

history in vain to find a single instance where the common

people of any land have ever declared themselves in favor

of the gold standard. They can find where the holders of

fixed investments have declared for a gold standard, but

not where the masses have. Mr. Carlisle said in 1878 that

this was a struggle between "the idle holders of idle

capital" and "the struggling masses, who produce the wealth

and pay the taxes of the country"; and, my friends, the

question we are to decide is: Upon which side will the

Democratic party fight, upon the side of "the idle holders

of idle capital" or upon the side of "the struggling

masses"? That is the question which the party must answer

first, and then it must be answered by each individual

hereafter. The sympathies of the Democratic party, as shown

by the platform, are on the side of the struggling masses

who have ever been the foundation of the Democratic party.

There are two ideas of government. There are those who

believe that, if you will only legislate to make the

well-to-do prosperous, their prosperity will leak through

on those below. The Democratic idea, however, has been that

if you legislate to make the masses prosperous, their

prosperity will find its way up through ever class which

rests upon them.

You come to us and tell us that the great cities are in

favor of the gold standard; we reply that the great cities

rest upon our broad and fertile prairies. Burn down your

cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up

again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass

will grow in the streets of every city in the country.

My friends, we declare that this nation is able to

legislate for its own people on every question, without

waiting for the aid and consent of any other nation on

earth; and upon that issue we expect to carry every state

in the Union. I shall not slander the inhabitants of the

fair state of Massachusetts, nor the inhabitants of the

state of New York, by saying that, when they are confronted

with the proposition they will declare that this nation is

not able to attend to its own business. It is the issue of

1776 over again. Our ancestors, when but three millions in

number, had the courage to declare their political

independence of every other nation; shall we, their

descendants, when we have grown to seventy millions,

declare that we are less independent than our forefathers?

No, my friends, that will never be the verdict of our

people. Therefore, we care not upon what lines the battle

is fought. If they say bimetallism is good, but that we

cannot have it until other nations help us, we reply that,

instead of having a gold standard because England has, we

will restore bimetallism, and then let England have

bimetallism because the United States has it. If they dare

to come out in the open field and defend the gold standard

as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost.

Having behind us the producing masses of this nation and

the world, supported by the commercial interests, the

laboring interests and the toilers everywhere, we will

answer their demand for a gold standard by saying to them:

You shall not press down upon the brow of labor this crown

of thorns, you shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of

gold.

JOHN HAYNES HOLMES

THE BIRTH OF AN ORATOR[18] (1912)

On the 9th day of December, 1837, there was held in Faneuil

Hall, in the city of Boston, a great public meeting in

protest against the recent murder, in Alton, Illinois, of

the Rev. Elijah P. Lovejoy. The historic old edifice was

filled upon this momentous occasion to suffocation, as

feeling was running very high upon both sides of the

slavery question; and the audience was about equally

divided between the friends and enemies of the cause. The

meeting was opened with a brief and impressive address by

Dr. Channing. Resolutions denouncing the murder of Lovejoy

were then read and formally seconded. Everything seemed to

be moving smoothly, when a man was seen making his way

through the excited crowd to the great gilded eagle in the

front of the gallery. He was instantly recognized as

James T. Austin, a parishioner of Dr. Channing, a popular

politician, and at that time the Attorney-General of the

Commonwealth. Gaining his position, he began a harangue,

calculated to fire the crowd and break up the meeting. He

compared the slaves of the South to a menagerie, and

likened Lovejoy to one who should "break the bars and let

loose the caravan to prowl about the streets." He talked of

the rioters of Alton as akin to the "orderly mob" which

threw the tea into Boston Harbor in 1773; and, in direct

allusion to his minister, Dr. Channing, he closed by

asserting that a clergyman with a gun in his hand, or one

"mingling in the debates of a popular assembly, was

marvellously out of place."

No sooner were these words spoken than the chairman lost

all control of the meeting. The Attorney-General had

captured his audience, and friends and foes seemed to vie

with one another in calling for the resolutions that they

might vote them down, and then turn the protest of the

occasion into an endorsement. At this wild moment, when all

hope of saving the meeting seemed to be lost, a young man

with pale face and close-pressed lips, was seen pushing his

way to the platform through the frenzied mob. A few persons

recognized Wendell Phillips, a son of one of the richest

and most conservative families of Boston, a graduate of

Harvard College and Harvard Law School, and now just

entered upon the practice of his profession. Leaping upon

the stage, this unknown stripling faced the crowd, as tall

and fair and beautiful as an Apollo, and, raising his hand,

spoke two or three words in those marvellous silvery tones

which were destined ultimately to chant their music in so

many halls and before so many popular assemblies. Instantly

the wild "tumult and shouting" was hushed, while men leaned

forward curiously to hear what this foolish youth could

find to say in answer to the Attorney-General. "Mr.

Chairman," he began, "we are here met for the freest

discussion of these resolutions, and the events which gave

rise to them. I hope I shall be permitted to express my

surprise as to the sentiments of the last speaker--surprise

not only at such sentiments from such a man, but at the

applause which they received within these walls. . . . Sir,

when I heard the gentleman lay down principles which place

the murders of Lovejoy side by side with Otis and Hancock,

Quincy and Adams, I thought [pointing to the portraits of

the revolutionary heroes in the hall] those pictured lips

would have broken into voice to rebuke this recreant

American--this slanderer of the dead." Instantly, with this

utterance of magic eloquence, the tide of popular feeling

was turned. Sentence after sentence fell from the speaker's

lips like thunderbolts from the land of Jove, until at last

his words were swept away in the wild tumult of applause;

and with a mighty shout the resolutions were put and

carried. Thus was the day unexpectedly saved, and from that

moment on Faneuil Hall was identified with the name of

Wendell Phillips as it had previously been identified with

the names of James Otis and Samuel Adams, and was dedicated

to the cause of anti-slavery, as it had hitherto been

dedicated to the cause of political independence.

PEACE BETWEEN LABOR AND CAPITAL[19] (1912)

First of all, let me tell you that nothing will be gained

by crushing unions and destroying organizations of labor.

The time has passed by forever for that course of

procedure. Labor is learning its power; and, what is more

important still, society has itself learned the value of

organized labor as a bulwark against the aggressions of

militant capitalism. The man who thinks that labor can be

permanently repressed and exploited is mad, and his madness

is a menace to the future peace of the country.

Neither can we solve this problem by talking about the

interests of capital and labor being identical under the

present system of industry, and by bringing capital and

labor together into any such "moonshine" organization as

the Civic Federation. We might as well recognize the fact

once for all that, just as long as higher wages mean lower

dividends, and shortened hours mean lessened output, the

interests of capital and labor are not identical but

opposite, not mutual but antagonistic.

The only way to bring peace into the present turmoil and

confusion of industry is first, for the sake of ordinary

decency and order, to make some laws to meet the

situation--laws which will oblige two warring classes to

bring their dispute before some impartial tribunal for

peaceful settlement, as two warring individuals are obliged

to do; and then, going straight to the heart of the matter,

to recognize that our whole system of capital and labor,

employer and employee, master and servant, is a form of

feudalism, and that this feudalism must give way to

democracy in the world of industry as it has long since

given way to democracy in the world of politics. The social

war will be over and peace established, when the man who

invests his labor in an industry is given the same degree

of ownership in that industry, as the man who invests his

money--when the laborer with his hands, like the laborer

with his brains, is given the full product of his

labor--when the laborer becomes a capitalist and the

capitalist becomes a laborer--when one man counts for one

man in the organization of industry, whatever his class or

station or wealth, just as one man is now counted for one

man in the organization of government. In other words, when

competition is succeeded by coöperation, private ownership

and control by social ownership and control, feudalism by

democracy, despotism by liberty, inequality by equality,

antagonism by fraternity, hatred by good-will. And you and

I can speed the coming of this happy day, by solemnly

resolving in the sight of God, that, so far as we are

concerned, we shall seek the enjoyment of no privilege

which is not universal, demand the exercise of no right for

ourselves which is denied to one of the least of these our

brethren, and cherish no sentiment within our hearts save

that of good-will for all the sons of men.

I have spoken upon this burning question this morning, my

friends, with a freedom which makes misinterpretation

inevitable and misquotation certain. I have spoken thus for

two reasons! First, that you, as my people, may know,

beyond all doubt, just where I, your minister, stand on

this burning question. I want you to know that, in this

present fight, I am on the side of labor. I excuse none of

its crimes--I pardon none of its criminals; but no crime

and no criminal can ever shake my faith in the justice of

its cause. And, in the second place, I have thus spoken,

that I may shake you out of that opinion which has been

forced upon your minds by the public discussions of the

last two weeks, and set your thinking upon this question

all anew. If you go out of this place, and denounce me as a

dynamiter, I shall have failed in my purpose; and the fault

will be mine, that I cannot express clearly what I want to

say. If you go out of this place, and, without accepting

any of my opinions, think the whole problem through again,

in prayer to God that you may find the truth and may do

injustice to no living soul, I shall have succeeded; and

the credit will be yours, that you have the open mind. But

whether I succeed or fail, matters little, perhaps; for, in

spite of you and in spite of me, "it is God who reigneth

over all the earth--He will judge the world in

righteousness and minister judgment to the people. He will

not fail nor faint till He have set justice in the

earth--till He have burst the yoke asunder and given

liberty to all them that are oppressed."

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN

THE PERFECT ORATOR

Imagine to yourself a Demosthenes, addressing the most

illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point whereon the

fate of the most illustrious of nations depended. How awful

such a meeting! How fast the subject! Is man possessed of

talents adequate to the great occasion? Adequate! Yes,

superior. By the power of eloquence, the augustness of the

assembly is lost in the dignity of the orator; and the

importance of the subject, for a while superseded, by the

admiration of his talents.

With what strength of argument, with what powers of the

fancy, with what emotions of the heart, doth he assault and

subjugate the whole man; and at once, captivate his reason,

his imagination, and his passions. To effect this, must be

the utmost effort of the most improved state of human

nature. Not a faculty that he possesses is here unemployed;

not a faculty that he possesses but is here exerted to its

highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his

external, testify their energies.

Within, the memory, the fancy, the judgment, the passions,

are all busy. Without, every muscle, every nerve, is

exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs

of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, through

the kindred organs of the hearers, instantaneously vibrate

those energies from soul to soul.

Notwithstanding the diversity of minds in such a multitude,

by the lightning of eloquence, they are melted into one

mass; the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way,

become, as it were, but one man, and have but one voice.

The universal cry is--"_let us move against Philip_--LET US

FIGHT FOR OUR LIBERTIES--+LET US CONQUER OR DIE!+"

THEODORE ROOSEVELT

INAUGURAL ADDRESS[20] (1905)

My Fellow Citizens: No people on earth have more cause to

be thankful than ours, and this is said reverently, in no

spirit of boastfulness in our own strength, but with

gratitude to the Giver of Good, who has blessed us with the

conditions which have enabled us to achieve so large a

measure of well-being and happiness.

To us as a people it has been granted to lay the

foundations of our natural life in a new continent. We are

the heirs of the ages, and yet we have had to pay few of

the penalties which in old countries are exacted by the

dead hand of a bygone civilization. We have not been

obliged to fight for our existence against any alien race;

and yet our life has called for the vigor and effort

without which the manlier and hardier virtues wither away.

Under such conditions it would be our own fault if we

failed, and the success which we have had in the past, the

success which we confidently believe the future will bring,

should cause in us no feeling of vainglory, but rather a

deep and abiding realization of all that life has offered

us; a full acknowledgment of the responsibility which is

ours; and a fixed determination to show that under a free

government a mighty people can thrive best, alike as regard

the things of the body and the things of the soul. Much has

been given us, and much will rightfully be expected from

us. We have duties to others and duties to ourselves--and

we can shirk neither. We have become a great nation, forced

by the fact of its greatness into relation to the other

nations of the earth, and we must behave as becomes a

people with such responsibilities.

Toward all other nations, large and small, our attitude

must be one of cordial and sincere friendship. We must show

not only in our words but in our deeds that we are

earnestly desirous of securing their good will by acting

toward them in a spirit of just and generous recognition of

all their rights.

But justice and generosity in a nation, as in an

individual, count most when shown not by the weak but by

the strong. While ever careful to refrain from wronging

others, we must be no less insistent that we are not

wronged ourselves. We wish peace; but we wish the peace of

justice, the peace of righteousness. We wish it because we

think it right, and not because we are afraid. No weak

nation that acts rightly and justly should ever have cause

to fear, and no strong power should ever be able to single

us out as a subject for insolent aggression.

Our relations with the other powers of the world are

important; but still more important are our relations among

ourselves. Such growth in wealth, in population, and in

power, as a nation has seen during a century and a quarter

of its national life, is inevitably accompanied by a like

growth in the problems which are ever before every nation

that rises to greatness. Power invariably means both

responsibility and danger. Our forefathers faced certain

perils which we have outgrown. We now face other perils the

very existence of which it was impossible that they should

foresee.

Modern life is both complex and intense, and the tremendous

changes wrought by the extraordinary industrial development

of the half century are felt in every fiber of our social

and political being. Never before have men tried so vast

and formidable an experiment as that of administering the

affairs of a continent under the forms of a democratic

republic. The conditions which have told for our marvelous

material well-being, which have developed to a very high

degree our energy, self-reliance, and individual

initiative, also have brought the care and anxiety

inseparable from the accumulation of great wealth in

industrial centers.

Upon the success of our experiment much depends--not only

as regards our own welfare, but as regards the welfare of

mankind. If we fail, the cause of free self-government

throughout the world will rock to its foundations, and

therefore our responsibility is heavy, to ourselves, to the

world as it is today, and to the generations yet unborn.

There is no good reason why we should fear the future, but

there is every reason why we should face it seriously,

neither hiding from ourselves the gravity of the problems

before us, nor fearing to approach these problems with the

unbending, unflinching purpose to solve them aright.

Yet, after all, though the problems are new, though the

tasks set before us differ from the tasks set before our

fathers, who founded and preserved this Republic, the

spirit in which these tasks must be undertaken and these

problems faced, if our duty is to be well done, remains

essentially unchanged. We know that self-government is

difficult. We know that no people needs such high traits of

character as that people which seeks to govern its affairs

aright through the freely expressed will of the free men

who compose it.

But we have faith that we shall not prove false to memories

of the men of the mighty past. They did their work; they

left us the splendid heritage we now enjoy. We in our turn

have an assured confidence that we shall be able to leave

this heritage unwasted and enlarged for our children's

children.

To do so we must show, not merely in great crisis, but in

every-day affairs of life, the qualities of practical

intelligence, of course, of hardihood, and endurance, and,

above all, the power of devotion to a lofty ideal, which

made great the men who founded this Republic in the days of

Washington; which made great the men who preserved this

Republic in the days of Abraham Lincoln.

EDWIN G. LAWRENCE

OUR COUNTRY[21] (1912)

MR. TOASTMASTER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: In that long ago,

that age just following the period when darkness covered

the face of the earth, that age when God dispelled that

darkness by issuing his fiat, "Let there be light," we are

told in the Good Book that God followed the birth of the

light with the creation of man, that He breathed the breath

of life into his nostrils and that man became thereby a

living soul. With the entrance of divine breath into the

senseless clay, with the awakening of the soul of man,

there came the realization of three spiritual facts: the

belief in God, the love of home, and the devotion to

country.

Nowhere in this vast universe does a conscious being exist

who does not, in his heart, believe in God. Traverse the

wilds of darkest Africa, enter the densest jungles of that

great continent, and you will find that all its human

inhabitants have some conception of God. In the remotest

isles of the Pacific, among the cannibals who devour the

flesh of their victims, is found evidence of the belief in

the existence of God, although the evidence may be nothing

more than the setting up of a symbol of wood or stone that

typifies to the poor savage the Being he worships. Even the

blasphemer, who, with the words of his mouth, denies the

Almighty who created him, will, in his secret soul, hear

the still small voice, the reflex of that great Creator,

whisper unto him, "I am the Lord thy God."

The love of home is universal. Be that home a hovel or a

palace, if the heart be there, happiness will be its

companion. Love of home often exists where the home is only

in the fancy, only in the heart that longs and hungers for

its blessings. That sweet singer who sang of "Home, sweet

home" was a wanderer on the face of the earth, and

possessed that home only in his dreams. No matter how pomp

and power may elevate us, no matter how our erring feet may

carry us astray, still in our hearts will echo the refrain:

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

As we are gathered within this palatial building, around

these well-laden tables, under the splendor of these

electric lamps, how many of you at the sound of the word

"Home" think of the little cottage perched upon the hill,

or nestling down in the valley, where, seated at the plain

wooden table, the room faintly lighted by a tallow candle,

you have eaten your humble meal, blessed by the spirit that

ever sanctifies the home? How many of you at this moment

are, in fancy, back in the dear old county of Greene? How

many of you trace the winding brook climb the hills, till

the fields, or sit within the holy confines of the House of

God, humble in its man-made structure but magnificent with

the glory of His presence?

Home is a thought, a dream, a wish, the longing of the soul

for the attainment of the heaven upon earth; and because

man keeps before him the vision of what he would have his

home, and sees not the materiality of its reality, he

conceives his home, no matter where it may be placed, to be

the best on earth. That beautiful writer, weak man, and

luckless wanderer, Oliver Goldsmith, thus expresses the

idea I would convey to you:

But where to find that happiest spot below

Who can direct, when all pretend to know?

The shudd'ring tenant of the frigid zone

Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own.

Extols the treasures of his stormy seas,

And his long nights of revelry and ease:

The naked negro, panting at the Line,

Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine,

Basks in their glare, or stems the tepid wave,

And thanks his gods for all the good they gave.

Such is the patriot's boast where'er he roam,

His first, best country, ever is at home.

What does the word country signify? It means the same to

the Russian on the frozen Volga; the German on the castled

Rhine; the Irish on the shores of the River Lee, listening

to "those bells of Shandon"; to the English on the Thames,

that little stream pregnant with the history of a world;

and to the American by the shores of the Hudson, the

Columbia or the Mississippi. To all men, in all climes, "my

country" means the land of my fathers, or the land of my

choice; the place of sacred memories, of strong endeavors

and of fervent hopes. Be that country the rock-ribbed land

of Scotland, the sands of Africa, the vine-clad hills of

France, the plains, the valleys and the mountains of

America, it is "my country" to her sons and daughters. No

matter what may be the language spoken, no matter what may

the natural formation of the landscape, be it Holland with

her dykes and ditches or Switzerland with her home in the

clouds, no matter what may be the color of her children, be

they white, yellow, black or brown, to them she is their

mother, and they adore her.

All this and more "our country" means to us Americans. She

means more to us than most lands can mean to their

children, because she offers us greater opportunities for

advancement in education, more religious, social and

political liberty, and instills into us an appreciation of

the necessity of working for the uplifting of mankind.

While laboring to uplift ourselves and our fellows, we

should keep ever in mind the first tenth of that Decalogue

given to the children of Israel for their guidance and

government, and which is as necessary to our national

preservation as it was to their national formation. That

commandment states "Thou shalt have no other gods before

Me"; and wherever that divine order was broken, the peoples

so breaking it, went down to destruction. When Athens

turned from her high ideals of progress and liberty she

became the vassal of Macedonia and passed out of existence

as an independent state. When the Emperor Augustus mounted

the throne of the world-power of Rome, the people of that

vast empire were slaves to sensuality and luxury, and from

that moment, when her greatness appeared fixed for all

times, her decline began. Let America pause and ponder as

she stands on the brink of that gulf wherein lie buried

Israel, Assyria, Carthage, Greece, and Rome, for unless she

turns from the false god Mammon, and returns to the worship

of the Lord God, she will as surely be plunged into the

bottomless pit as were the nations that preceded her in

wealth and power and which she is imitating by bowing down

to and worshiping the golden calf. Let us keep before our

country the lights of truth and justice that they may guide

her from this threatening peril on to that upward and

onward path leading to the holy of holies wherein sits

enthroned the one true God--the God of Equality and of Love.

It is well to blend God, Home and Country, because the

belief in all three makes the believer, man or woman, the

patriot and the child of God. Take God out of the home and

what have we? A shelter for the body, perhaps, but a

wilderness for the spirit. Take God out of the country and

what have we? A ship of state without a compass whereby to

direct its course. Therefore, if either love of God or love

of home fails to exist in the hearts of the citizens of any

land, that part of the earth's surface will be their

habitation but it will fail to be their country. When the

patriot thinks of the nation he loves he does not picture

it as so much land, so much water, so many mountains or so

many plains. No, he sees it as he sees his flag, symbolical

of all that is dear, holy and true. It is the spirit of our

flag that we love. It is the spirit of God and the spirit

of Home that make us love our Country. Let us look to hear

as our mother, let us be to her faithful and loving

children, and may she be the better for having nurtured us

in her arms.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Our Country. God grant she may always

stand for the fulfillment of His word.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Delivered in the Virginia Convention, on a resolution

to put the commonwealth into a state of defense,

March 23, 1775.

[2] Delivered in the United States Senate, March 7, 1850,

in support of Clay's compromise resolutions. Abridged.

[3] Delivered in the Senate of the United States,

January 21, 1830. Abridged.

[4] Delivered at the Illinois Republican State Convention

at Springfield, June 16, 1858.

[5] Delivered on February 11, 1861.

[6] Delivered in Faneuil Hall, Boston, December 8, 1837.

[7] Delivered in the United States Senate,

January 21, 1861.

[8] Delivered in the United States Senate,

January 7, 1861.

[9] A city of Iberia (Spain). Captured by Hannibal in

219 B.C., in spite of Rome's warning. Hannibal's

action caused the war between Rome and Carthage.

[10] Delivered at Dartmouth College, July 27, 1853.

[11] Extract from an address delivered at the unveiling of

the Statue of the Poet, in Central Park, New York,

October 2, 1880.

[12] From Robert Burns' Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson.

[13] Delivered in the House of Representatives,

April 28, 1874. Extract.

[14] Delivered in Washington, D. C., June 3, 1879.

[15] Delivered in Edinburgh, Scotland, March 17, 1880.

[16] Extract from an oration delivered before the President

and both Houses of Congress in the House of

Representatives at Washington, D. C., February 27, 1882.

[17] Delivered in the National Democratic Convention at

Chicago in 1896.

[18] From a sermon delivered in the Church of the Messiah,

New York City.

[19] From a sermon on "Capital vs. Labor," delivered in the

Church of the Messiah, New York City.

[20] Delivered at Washington, D. C., March 4, 1905.

[21] Delivered at the Hotel Astor, New York City, on the

occasion of the Eighth Annual Dinner of The Greene

County Society, Jan. 30, 1912.