Life Without and Life Within Part 19

It flows inevitably from the emanc.i.p.ation of our wills, the development of individuality in us. These aims accomplished, all shall yet be well; and it is ours to learn _how_ that good time may be hastened.

We know no sign of the times more encouraging than the increasing n.o.bleness and wisdom of view as to the government of asylums for the insane and of prisons. Whatever is learned as to these forms of society is learned for all. There is nothing that can be said of such government that must not be said, also, of the government of families, schools, and states. But we have much to say on this subject, and shall revert to it again, and often, though, perhaps, not with so pleasing a theme as this of St. Valentine's Eve.

FOURTH OF JULY.

The bells ring; the cannon rouse the echoes along the river sh.o.r.e; the boys sally forth with shouts and little flags, and crackers enough to frighten all the people they meet from sunrise to sunset. The orator is conning for the last time the speech in which he has vainly attempted to season with some new spice the yearly panegyric upon our country; its happiness and glory; the audience is putting on its best bib and tucker, and its blandest expression to listen.

And yet, no heart, we think, can beat to-day with one pulse of genuine, n.o.ble joy. Those who have obtained their selfish objects will not take especial pleasure in thinking of them to-day, while to unbia.s.sed minds must come sad thoughts of national honor soiled in the eyes of other nations, of a great inheritance risked, if not forfeited.

Much has been achieved in this country since the Declaration of Independence. America is rich and strong; she has shown great talent and energy; vast prospects of aggrandizement open before her. But the n.o.ble sentiment which she expressed in her early youth is tarnished; she has shown that righteousness is not her chief desire, and her name is no longer a watchword for the highest hopes to the rest of the world. She knows this, but takes it very easily; she feels that she is growing richer and more powerful, and that seems to suffice her.

These facts are deeply saddening to those who can p.r.o.nounce the words "my country" with pride and peace only so far as steadfast virtues, generous impulses, find their home in that country. They cannot be satisfied with superficial benefits, with luxuries and the means of obtaining knowledge which are multiplied for them. They could rejoice in full hands and a busy brain, if the soul were expanding and the heart pure; but, the higher conditions being violated, what is done cannot be done for good.

Such thoughts fill patriot minds as the cannon-peal bursts upon the ear.

This year, which declares that the people at large consent to cherish and extend slavery as one of our "domestic inst.i.tutions," takes from the patriot his home. This year, which attests their insatiate love of wealth and power, quenches the flame upon the altar.

Yet there remains that good part which cannot be taken away. If nations go astray, the narrow path may always be found and followed by the individual man. It is hard, hard indeed, when politics and trade are mixed up with evils so mighty that he scarcely dares touch them for fear of being defiled. He finds his activity checked in great natural outlets by the scruples of conscience. He cannot enjoy the free use of his limbs, glowing upon a favorable tide; but struggling, panting, must fix his eyes upon his aim, and fight against the current to reach it. It is not easy, it is very hard just now, to realize the blessings of independence.

For what _is_ independence if it do not lead to freedom?--freedom from fraud and meanness, from selfishness, from public opinion so far as it does not agree with the still, small voice of one's better self?

Yet there remains a great and worthy part to play. This country presents great temptations to ill, but also great inducements to good. Her health and strength are so remarkable, her youth so full of life, that disease cannot yet have taken deep hold of her. It has bewildered her brain, made her steps totter, fevered, but not yet tainted, her blood. Things are still in that state when ten just men may save the city. A few men are wanted, able to think and act upon principles of an eternal value.

The safety of the country must lie in a few such men; men who have achieved the genuine independence, independence of wrong, of violence, of falsehood.

We want individuals to whom all eyes may turn as examples of the practicability of virtue. We want s.h.i.+ning examples. We want deeply-rooted characters, who cannot be moved by flattery, by fear, even by hope, for they work in faith. The opportunity for such men is great; they will not be burned at the stake in their prime for bearing witness to the truth, yet they will be tested most severely in their adherence to it. There is nothing to hinder them from learning what is true and best; no physical tortures will be inflicted on them for expressing it.

Let men feel that in private lives, more than in public measures, must the salvation of the country lie. If that country has so widely veered from the course she prescribed to herself, and that the hope of the world prescribed to her, it must be because she had not men ripened and confirmed for better things. They leaned too carelessly on one another; they had not deepened and purified the private lives from which the public vitality must spring, as the verdure of the plain from the fountains of the hills.

What a vast influence is given by sincerity alone. The bier of General Jackson has lately pa.s.sed, upbearing a golden urn. The men who placed it there lament his departure, and esteem the measures which have led this country to her present position wise and good. The other side esteem them unwise, unjust, and disastrous in their consequences. But both respect him thus far, that his conduct was boldly sincere. The sage of Quincy! Men differ in their estimate of his abilities. None, probably, esteem his mind as one of the first magnitude. But both sides, all men, are influenced by the bold integrity of his character. Mr. Calhoun speaks straight out what he thinks. So far as this straightforwardness goes, he confers the benefits of virtue. If a character be uncorrupted, whatever bias it takes, it thus far is good and does good. It may help others to a higher, wiser, larger independence than its own.

We know not where to look for an example of all or many of the virtues we would seek from the man who is to begin the new dynasty that is needed of fathers of the country. The country needs to be born again; she is polluted with the l.u.s.t of power, the l.u.s.t of gain. She needs fathers good enough to be G.o.dfathers--men who will stand sponsors at the baptism with _all_ they possess, with all the goodness they can cherish, and all the wisdom they can win, to lead this child the way she should go, and never one step in another. Are there not in schools and colleges the boys who will become such men? Are there not those on the threshold of manhood who have not yet chosen the broad way into which the mult.i.tude rushes, led by the banner on which, strange to say, the royal Eagle is blazoned, together with the word Expediency? Let them decline that road, and take the narrow, th.o.r.n.y path where Integrity leads, though with no prouder emblem than the Dove. They may there find the needed remedy, which, like the white root, detected by the patient and resolved Odysseus, shall have power to restore the herd of men, disguised by the enchantress to whom they had willingly yielded in the forms of brutes, to the stature and beauty of men.

FIRST OF AUGUST.

Among the holidays of the year, some portion of our people borrow one from another land. They borrow what they fain would own, since their doing so would increase, not lessen, the joy and prosperity of the present owner. It is a holiday not to be celebrated, as others are, with boast, and shout, and gay procession, but solemnly, yet hopefully; in prayer and humiliation for much ill now existing; in faith that the G.o.d of good will not permit such ill to exist always; in aspiration to become his instruments for removal.

We borrow this holiday from England. We know not that she could lend us another such. Her career has been one of selfish aggrandizement. To carry her flag wherever the waters flow; to leave a strong mark of her footprint on every sh.o.r.e, that she might return and claim its spoils; to maintain in every way her own advantage,--is and has been her object, as much as that of any nation upon earth. The plundered Hindoo, the wronged Irish,--for ourselves we must add the outraged Chinese, (for we look on all that has been written about the right of that war as mere sophistry,)--no less than Napoleon, walking up and down, in his "tarred great-coat," in the unwholesome lodge at St. Helena,--all can tell whether she be righteous or generous in her conquests. Nay, let myriads of her own children say whether she will abstain from sacrificing, mercilessly, human freedom, happiness, and the education of immortal souls, for the sake of gains of money! We speak of Napoleon, for we must ever despise, with most profound contempt, the use she made of her power on that occasion. She had been the chief means of liberating Europe from his tyranny, and, though it was for her own sake, we must commend and admire her conduct and resolution thus far. But the unhandsome, base treatment of her captive, has never been enough contemned. Any private gentleman, in chaining up the foe that had put himself in his power, would at least have given him lodging, food, and clothes to his liking; and a civil turnkey--and a great nation could fail in this! O, it was shameful, if only for the vulgarity of feeling evinced! All this we say, because we are sometimes impatient of England's brag on the subject of slavery. Freedom! Because she has done one good act, is she ent.i.tled to the angelic privilege of being the champion of freedom?

And yet it is true that once she n.o.bly awoke to a sense of what was right and wise. It is true that she also acted out that sense--acted fully, decidedly. She was willing to make sacrifices, even of the loved money. She has not let go the truth she then laid to heart, and continues the resolute foe of man's traffic in men. We must bend low to her as we borrow this holiday--the anniversary of the emanc.i.p.ation of slaves in the West Indies. We do not feel that the extent of her practice justifies the extent of her preaching; yet we must feel her to be, in this matter, an elder sister, ent.i.tled to cry shame to us. And if her feelings be those of a sister indeed, how must she mourn to see her next of kin pus.h.i.+ng back, as far as in her lies, the advance of this good cause, binding those whom the old world had awakened from its sins enough to loose! But courage, sister! All is not yet lost! There is here a faithful band, determined to expiate the crimes that have been committed in the name of liberty. On this day they meet and vow themselves to the service; and, as they look in one another's glowing eyes, they read there a.s.surance that the end is not yet, and that they, forced as they are

"To keep in company with Pain, And Fear, and Falsehood, miserable train,"

"Turn that necessity to glorious gain,"

"Trans.m.u.te them and subdue."

Indeed, we do not see that they "bate a jot of heart or hope," and it is because they feel that the power of the Great Spirit, and its peculiar workings in the spirit of this age, are with them. There is action and reaction all the time; and though the main current is obvious, there are many little eddies and counter-currents. Mrs. Norton writes a poem on the sufferings of the poor, and in it she, as episode, tunefully laments the sufferings of the Emperor of all the Russias for the death of a beloved daughter. And it _was_ a deep grief; yet it did not soften his heart, or make it feel for man. The first signs of his recovered spirits are in new efforts to crush out the heart of Poland, and to make the Jews lay aside the hereditary marks of their national existence--to them a sacrifice far worse than death. But then,--Count Apraxin is burned alive by his infuriate serfs, and the life of a serf is far more dog-like, or rather machine-like, than that of _our_ slaves. Still the serf can rise in vengeance--can admonish the autocrat that humanity may yet turn again and rend him.

So with us. The most shameful deed has been done that ever disgraced a nation, because the most contrary to consciousness of right. Other nations have done wickedly, but we have surpa.s.sed them all in trampling under foot the principles that had been a.s.sumed as the basis of our national existence, and shown a willingness to forfeit our honor in the face of the world.

The following stanzas, written by a friend some time since, on the fourth of July, exhibit these contrasts so forcibly, that we cannot do better than insert them here:--

Loud peal of bells and beat of drums Salute approaching dawn; And the deep cannon's fearful bursts Announce a nation's morn.

Imposing ranks of freemen stand And claim their proud birthright; Impostors, rather! thus to brand A name they hold so bright.

Let the day see the pageant show; Float, banners, to the breeze!

Shout Liberty's great name throughout Columbia's lands and seas!

Give open sunlight to the free; But for Truth's equal sake, When night sinks down upon the land, Proclaim dead Freedom's wake!

Beat, m.u.f.fled drums! Toll, funeral bell Nail every flag half-mast; For though we fought the battle well, We're traitors at the last.

Let the whole nation join in one Procession to appear; We and our sons lead on the front, Our slaves bring up the rear.

America is rocked within Thy cradle, Liberty, By Africa's poor, palsied hand-- Strange inconsistency!

We've dug one grave as deep as Death, For Tyranny's black sin; And dug another at its side To thrust our brother in.

We challenge all the world aloud,-- "Lo, Tyranny's deep grave!"

And all the world points back and cries, "Thou fool! Behold thy slave!"

Yes, rally, brave America, Thy n.o.ble hearts and free Around the Eagle, as he soars Upward in majesty.

One half thy emblem is the bird, Out-facing thus the day; But wouldst thou make him wholly thine,-- _Give him a helpless prey!_

This should be sung in Charleston at nine o'clock in the evening, when the drums are heard proclaiming "dead Freedom's wake," as they summon to their homes, or to the custody of the police, every human being with a black skin who is found walking without a pa.s.s from a white. Or it might have been sung to advantage the night after Charleston had shown her independence and care of domestic inst.i.tutions by expulsion of the venerable envoy of Ma.s.sachusetts! Its expression would seem even more forcible than now, when sung so near the facts, when the eagle soars so close above his prey.

How deep the shadow! yet cleft by light. There is a counter-current that sets towards the deep. We are inclined to weigh as of almost equal weight with all we have had to trouble us as to the prolongation of slavery, the hopes that may be gathered from the course of such a man as Ca.s.sius M. Clay,--a man open to none of the accusations brought to diminish the influence of abolitionists in general, for he has eaten the bread wrought from slavery, and has shared the education that excuses the blindness of the slaveholder. He speaks as one having authority; no one can deny that he knows where he is. In the prime of manhood, of talent, and the energy of a fine enthusiasm, he comes forward with deed and word to do his devoir in this cause, never to leave the field till he can take with him the wronged wretches rescued by his devotion.

Now he has made this last sacrifice of the prejudices of "southern chivalry," more persons than ever will be ready to join the herald's cry, "G.o.d speed the right!" And we cannot but believe his n.o.ble example will be followed by many young men in the slaveholding ranks, brothers in a new, sacred band, vowed to the duty, not merely of defending, but far more sacred, of purifying their homes.

The event of which this day is the anniversary, affords a sufficient guarantee of the safety and practicability of strong measures for this purification. Various accounts are given to the public, of the state of the British West Indies, and the foes of emanc.i.p.ation are of course constantly on the alert to detect any unfavorable result which may aid them in opposing the good work elsewhere. But through all statements these facts s.h.i.+ne clear as the sun at noonday, that the measure was there carried into effect with an ease and success, and has shown in the African race a degree of goodness, docility, capacity for industry and self-culture entirely beyond or opposed to the predictions which darkened so many minds with fears. Those fears can never again be entertained or uttered with the same excuse. One great example of the _safety of doing right_ exists; true, there is but one of the sort, but volumes may be preached from such a text.

We, however, preach not; there are too many preachers already in the field, abler, more deeply devoted to the cause. Endless are the sermons of these modern crusaders, these ardent "sons of thunder," who have pledged themselves never to stop or falter till this one black spot be purged away from the land which gave them birth. They cry aloud and spare not; they spare not others, but then, neither do they spare themselves; and such are ever the harbingers of a new advent of the Holy Spirit. Our venerated friend, Dr. Channing, sainted in more memories than any man who has left us in this nineteenth century, uttered the last of his tones of soft, solemn, convincing, persuasive eloquence, on this day and this occasion. The hills of Lenox laughed and were glad as they heard him who showed in that last address (an address not only to the men of Lenox, but to all men, for he was in the highest sense the friend of man) the unsullied purity of infancy, the indignation of youth at vice and wrong, informed and tempered by the mild wisdom of age. It is a beautiful fact that this should have been the last public occasion of his life.

Last year a n.o.ble address was delivered by R. W. Emerson, in which he broadly showed the _juste milieu_ views upon this subject in the holy light of a high ideal day. The truest man grew more true as he listened; for the speech, though it had the force of fact and the l.u.s.tre of thought, was chiefly remarkable as sharing the penetrating quality of the "still small voice," most often heard when no man speaks. Now it spoke _through_ a man; and no personalities, or prejudices, or pa.s.sions could be perceived to veil or disturb its silver sound.

These speeches are on record; little can be said that is not contained in them. But we can add evermore our aspirations for thee, O our country! that thou mayst not long need to borrow a _holy_ day; not long have all thy festivals blackened by falsehood, tyranny, and a crime for which neither man below nor G.o.d above can much longer pardon thee. For ignorance may excuse error; but thine--it is vain to deny it--is conscious wrong, and vows thee to the Mammon whose wages are endless remorse or final death.