Chapter XIX: Preface (17)

Here is exhibited a striking picture of the minds of these four great men, which appears to have escaped the notice of the several writers that I have consulted. Adams and Henry, drawing their conclusions from the past, the present and the future, diving into the depths of human nature and grasping, at one bold view, all the multiform circumstances that hung over the two nations, concluded truly, “_after all we must fight_.” They concluded that the confidence inspired in the ministers by the overwhelming physical force of Great Britain, would prevent them from relaxing the cords of oppression, and that the independent spirit of the hardy sons of Columbia would not be subdued without a struggle. Lee, naturally bouyant, his own mind readily impressed by reason and eloquence, did not reflect that inflated power, when deluded by obstinacy and avarice, is callous to all the refined feelings of the heart, is deaf to wisdom and blind to justice. He was as determined to maintain chartered rights as them, but did not scan human nature as closely. Washington, deep in reflection and investigation, his soul overflowing with the milk of human kindness, did not arrive as rapidly at conclusions. In weighing the causes of difference between the two countries, reason, justice and hope on the one side, power, corruption, and avarice on the other, held his mind, for a time, in equilibrio. He plainly perceived and pursued the right, and fondly but faintly hoped that England would see and pursue it too. He was as prompt to defend liberty as either of the others.

On his return, Mr. Adams was congratulated by his anxious friends upon the prudent course he had pursued, and was re-elected a member of the ensuing Congress. During the interim his pen was again usefully employed. Mr. Sewall, the king’s attorney-general, had written a series of elaborate and ingenious essays, maintaining the supremacy of parliament and censuring, in no measured terms, the proceedings of the whigs. Under the name of “Novanglus,” Mr. Adams stripped the gay ornaments and gaudy apparel from the high-varnished picture that Mr. Sewall had presented to the public, and when he had finished his work, a mere skeleton of visible deformity was left to gaze upon.

The attorney-general was made to tremble before the keen cuts of the falchion quill of this devoted patriot. So deep was his reasoning, so learned were his expositions, and so lucid and conclusive were his demonstrations, that his antagonist exclaimed, as he retired hissing from the conflict, “he strives to hide his inconsistencies under a huge pile of learning.” The pile proved too huge for royal power, and was sufficiently large to supply the people with an abundance of light. The supremacy of parliament was an unfortunate issue for ministers. It left the sages of liberty in a position to hurl their arrows freely at _them_, without denying the allegiance of the colonists to the _king_. The British cabinet worked out its own destruction, if not with fear and trembling, it was with blindness and disgrace—a disgrace arising from the grossest impolicy and injustice, if not to say ignorance and infatuation. They were entirely mistaken in the people of America—they awoke the wrong passengers.

In May, 1775, Mr. Adams again took his seat in Congress. The members convened under quite different feelings from those that pervaded their bosoms the previous autumn. Revolution was now rolling fearfully upon their bleeding country, hope of redress was expiring like the last flickerings of an exhausted taper, dark and portentous clouds were accumulating, the ministerial ermine was already steeped in blood, the chains of servitude were clanking in their ears, the dying groans of their fellow citizens and the mournful lamentations of widows and orphans were resounding through the land, and the prophetic conclusion of Adams and Henry, drawn at the previous session, began to force itself upon the minds of members, that “_after all we must fight_.” As a preliminary measure, it was necessary to appoint a commander of the military forces to be raised. To fix upon the _best_ man was of vital importance. Many were yet chanting the song of peace and thought it premature to make such an appointment, lest it should widen the breach which they still hoped might be repaired. The New England delegates were not of this class. When the purple current was wantonly diverted from its original channel upon the heights of Lexington, they hung their syren harps upon the weeping willows that shaded the tombs of their murdered brethren. They were convinced that war was inevitable. All soon became satisfied that prudence dictated a preparation for such an event. A suitable man to lead the armies and direct their course was a desideratum. The southern members were willing to submit to any nomination made by the eastern delegates. General Artemas Ward of Massachusetts was fixed upon by most of them, except John Adams. In George Washington he had discovered the commingling qualities of a philanthropist, a philosopher, a statesman and a hero. He was prompted by the force of moral courage to at once urge his colleagues to sanction his choice. They were all opposed to it, as were also the other members of the northern and eastern delegation. Mr. Adams was firm in his purpose, and met every objection with conclusive arguments. These discussions were all private, not a word was uttered on the floor of Congress as to who should be the man. At last Samuel Adams became convinced that his junior colleague was right. The work was soon accomplished. Satisfied that his measure would be supported by a majority, John Adams rose in Congress and proposed that a commander of the American armies should be appointed. When this resolution was passed, he proceeded to portray the requisite qualities necessary to fit a man for this important station, and emphatically remarked “_such a man is within these walls_.” But few knew who he was about to nominate, and could not imagine who among their own number was possessed of all these noble attainments. A transient pause ensued. A breathless anxiety produced a painful suspense. The next moment the name of COLONEL GEORGE WASHINGTON of Virginia, was announced, at which the colonel was more astonished than any other member of the house. He had not received an intimation of the intended honour from any person. He was nominated by John Adams about the middle of June, the nomination was seconded by Samuel Adams, the next day the vote was taken and was unanimous in his favour. This appointment originated entirely with Mr. Adams; a high encomium upon his deep penetration and discernment of human intellect, a clear demonstration of his moral courage manifested in persevering in his choice although opposed at the threshold by the entire New England delegation. So judicious and felicitous was this selection, that the revered La Fayette remarked, “it was the consequence of providential inspiration.” Be it so; Mr. Adams was the happy medium through which it was communicated to the Continental Congress, thereby placing at the head of the American armies just such a man as the crisis required—prudent, dignified, bold, sagacious, patient, persevering, and universally esteemed by the patriots, and admired even by the most violent adherents of the crown.

After Mr. Adams had accomplished this important act, he remained apparently quiescent during the residue of the session, viewing, analyzing and scanning public feeling and public acts.

In the spring of 1776, he took his seat a third time in the National Assembly. The period had then arrived for more decisive action. Massachusetts had been declared out of the king’s protection by parliament. England had hired legions of soldiers from German princes to subdue the rebels in America, the last note of peace had died upon the voice of echo, every ray of hope in favour of an amicable settlement was banished, and every member became convinced that the dilemma was, _resistance or slavery_; but there were many who shrunk back with astonishment when independence was named to them.

At this juncture Mr. Adams marked out a bold course and had moral courage to pursue it. On the sixth of May he offered a resolution in Congress proposing that the colonies should organize governments independent of the mother country. On the tenth of the same month its substance was adopted in a modified form, recommending the formation of such government by the colonies “as might be conducive to the happiness and safety of their constituents in particular and America in general.”

This startling measure was at first ably opposed by many of the patriots as premature, admitting its justice, and, but for the weakness of the colonies, its propriety and necessity. But Mr. Adams knew no middle course. He had succeeded in obtaining the adoption of the preface to his broad and expanding folio of an independent compact, and he proceeded to put the main matter to press. He rose like a giant and commenced the mighty work of political regeneration. Each succeeding day brought him new aid. From the legislature of his own state he received full permission to strike for independence. North Carolina had declared first, Virginia followed, and on the seventh of June, Richard Henry Lee became the organ to lay the proposition fairly before Congress. A most animated discussion ensued. Then it was that the powers of Mr. Adams were fully developed. Mr. Jefferson said of him when alluding to his able support of the declaration of independence, “John Adams was the pillar of its support on the floor of Congress; its ablest advocate and defender against the multifarious assaults it encountered. He was our Colossus on the floor; not graceful, not elegant, not always fluent in his public addresses; yet he came out with a power, both of thought and of expression, that moved us from our seats.” Another writer remarks, I think Mr. Trumbull, “The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character. It was bold, manly and energetic, such as the crisis required.” The noblest powers of the soul of John Adams were raised to the zenith of their strength to accomplish the mighty work before him. Although on the committee to prepare the manifesto of eternal separation, he confided its preparation to his colleagues and bent his whole force, eloquence and energy upon the opponents to the measure. Most manfully did he contend, most gloriously did he triumph. He bore down upon his adversaries like a mountain torrent, a sweeping avalanche, prostrating their arguments and answering their objections in a manner that left no trace behind. He hurled the arrows of conviction so thick and fast, that every heart was pierced and a majority subdued. At length the time arrived when the momentous subject must be decided. The fourth of July, 1776, dawned upon the patriots; they assembled, the past, the present and the prospective future rushed upon their minds; moments flew, hearts beat quicker, the question was put, independence was declared, America was free, liberty was honoured, freedom was proclaimed and a nation redeemed.

The following copy of a letter written by Mr. Adams to his wife on the 5th of July, will show the feelings of his mind on that occasion:

“Yesterday the greatest question was decided that was ever debated in America, and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided among men. A resolution passed without one dissenting colony—‘that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states.’ The day is passed. The fourth of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomps, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward and for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this declaration and support and defend these states; yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more than all the means, and that posterity will triumph, although you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not.”

Early in the winter of 1776, Mr. Adams sketched a form of government to be adopted by each colony, which was substantially the same as the constitutions of the present time. It was in a letter to Richard Henry Lee, by whom it was, by permission, published without a name, and may be considered as the model of the constitutions now in force in the different states. After the form he remarks, “A constitution founded on these principles, introduces knowledge among the people and inspires them with a conscious dignity becoming freemen. A general emulation takes place which causes good humour, sociability, good manners and good morals to be general. That elevation of sentiment inspired by such a government, makes the common people brave and enterprising. That ambition which is inspired by it makes them sober, industrious and frugal. You will find among them some elegance perhaps, but more solidity; a little pleasure but a great deal of business; some politeness but more civility. If you compare such a country with the regions of domination, whether monarchial or aristocratical, you will fancy yourself in Arcadia or Elysium.”

Here, upon the canvass of truth, is a complete picture, exhibiting the blessings derived from a government like our own in its _principles_—that these principles are not strictly adhered to by all politicians, is a fact too fully and fearfully demonstrated. Among all the great men of the last century of increasing intellectual light, no one appears to have taken a more comprehensive and at the same time minute view of human nature and of human government, than John Adams. He traced causes and effects through all their labyrinthian meanderings, and drew conclusions as if by inspiration. Many of his predictions of the future bear the impress of prophecy, and show how deeply he investigated and the clearness of his perception.

On his return from Congress at the close of the session, he was chosen a member of the council of Massachusetts under the new constitution, and aided to organize a free government on a basis purely republican. He was also appointed chief justice, but declined serving.

In 1777, Mr. Adams resumed his seat in Congress, and engaged in a course of labour unparalleled in the history of legislation. He was an acting member of ninety committees, chairman of twenty-five, chairman of the board of war and of appeals, discharged all those multifarious duties promptly, besides participating in the debates of the house upon all important questions. In December of that year he was appointed a commissioner to France, and embarked on board of the frigate Boston in February following, from his native town at the foot of Mount Wollaston. During the voyage a British armed ship was discovered, and, by the consent of Mr. Adams, Captain Tucker gave chase, strictly enjoining the commissioner to keep out of danger. No sooner had the action commenced than Mr. Adams seized a musket and gave the enemy a well directed shot. The captain discovering him in his exposed situation, said to him, “I am commanded by the Continental Congress to carry you in safety to Europe, and I will do it,” and very pleasantly removed him and placed him out of danger.

On his arrival at France he had the satisfaction to learn that Dr. Franklin and his colleagues had succeeded in concluding a treaty of alliance with the French nation. He continued in Europe a little more than a year and then returned home. Soon after his arrival he was elected to a convention of his native state convened for the purpose of perfecting a constitution for the more complete organization of its government. He was upon the committee to prepare this document, and was selected to make the draught. He produced an instrument similar to that sketched for Richard Henry Lee in January 1776, which was sanctioned and adopted. Before his duties had terminated in this convention he was appointed by Congress “a minister plenipotentiary for negotiating a treaty of peace and a treaty of commerce with Great Britain.”

In October, 1779, he embarked from Boston for Europe, and after a long and tedious passage, he arrived at Paris in February following. The British ministry were not yet sufficiently humbled to do right, and Mr. Adams had too much sagacity to be ensnared, and too much moral courage to consent to any thing wrong. Anxious to benefit his country, on hearing that Mr. Laurens, the American commissioner to Holland, had been captured, he immediately repaired to that kingdom, and in August received a commission from Congress to negotiate a loan and to conclude a treaty of amity and commerce with the States General of Holland, with instructions to accede to any treaty of neutral rights that might arise from regulations to be made by a congress of the European states, then in contemplation. In a few months he was completely overwhelmed with diplomatic powers. He was minister plenipotentiary to Great Britain—to the States General—to the prince of Orange—to all the European states for pledging the faith of the United States to the armed neutrality, with letters of credit to the Russian, Swedish and Danish envoys in Holland, and a commissioner to negotiate a loan of ten millions of dollars for the support of the home department and foreign embassies. The duties thus devolving upon him, all of which he discharged with approbation, will give the reader some idea of the gigantic mental powers of John Adams. He had the same kind of intrigue to encounter as that alluded to in the biography of Franklin, which he met at the threshold and crushed whilst in embryo.

In July, 1781, he received a summons from the court of France to repair immediately to Versailles to deliberate upon a plan of peace with England. On his arrival he had occasion for the exercise of that moral courage that sustained him in every dilemma. The terms offered did not fully recognise the rights of the United States as an independent sovereign nation—peace was anxiously desired and ardently urged by the Duke de Vergennes, who stood at the head of the French cabinet—Mr. Adams desired it too, but only upon honourable and dignified terms. The duke, who had uniformly showed a disposition to make the United States at least _feel_ deeply a dependence upon France, undertook to dictate to Mr. Adams, and placed him in the position of a subordinate agent. In this project he was greatly mistaken. Mr. Adams recognised no dictator but the Continental Congress and his own keen and penetrating judgment. So chagrined was the French duke at the independence of the American minister, that he wrote to the chevalier de la Luzerne, then minister from France in America, to lay a formal complaint against Mr. Adams before Congress. This he did in a very ingenious manner, but without success. As a matter of deference to their new and important ally, the members of Congress very partially modified the instructions to their minister, but did not place him under the control of the duke as requested. They knew the spirit of John Adams would never compromise the dignity of the American name, and they reposed entire confidence in his ability to perceive the right, and in his moral courage to pursue it. It became evident that the motives of the French court in giving assistance to the United States were based entirely on self. Her objects were to humble her inveterate foe, and when that was accomplished, to secure her own aggrandizement and that of Spain at the expense of America. I speak of the _court_ of France, and not of the good Lafayette and French patriots like him.

Finding that his presence could be of no service at Versailles, Mr. Adams returned to Amsterdam. Soon after this, so powerfully did the French minister operate upon Congress, taking the advantage of the reverses of the American arms, that he induced that body to add to the commission of Mr. Adams, Dr. Franklin, Messrs. Jefferson, Jay and Laurens, with the humiliating direction, “that they should govern themselves by the advice and opinion of the ministers of the king of France.” The duke de Vergennes now exulted in his power, having been made by Congress virtually the sovereign minister of the United States to Great Britain. But his exultation was delusive. Nothing could bend Mr. Adams or Franklin, and the other commissioners became convinced of the propriety of the bold stand assumed. Mr. Adams wrote to Congress and exposed the plans of the duke and his coadjutors, and was the bold medium of communication that opened the eyes of its members to see and permit the commissioner to maintain their true dignity, which enabled them to finally obtain an honourable peace. He also succeeded, after surmounting many Alpine barriers, in negotiating a loan in Holland of eight millions of guilders, in September, 1782. The benefits of this loan were two-fold—it enabled the United States to prosecute the war with more vigour, and had a direct influence upon England, inducing her to make proposals of peace soon after this was known to lord Shelburne, then at the head of the British administration, which secured to the United States the great privileges insisted on by Mr. Adams. A provisional treaty was signed at Paris on the thirtieth of November, 1782, and a definitive treaty was signed on the third of September, 1783. This step was taken without consulting the duke de Vergennes, and completely thwarted his golden schemes of finesse. He addressed a letter of reproach to the American commissioners, because they dared to proceed without his approbation, which they did not condescend to answer. The three grand points in the plan of the court of France were—in securing to themselves the trade and fisheries of the Unites States, and for Spain—the sole right of navigating the Mississippi river.

After the important work of concluding peace with England was accomplished, Mr. Adams returned to Holland, where he remained a part of the year 1784, when he returned to France and assumed the duties of a commission, at the head of which he was placed, having Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefferson associated with him, forming a trio of combined, various and exalted talent, never surpassed if ever equalled. They were empowered to negotiate commercial treaties with all foreign nations that desired such an arrangement with the United States.

In 1785, Mr. Adams was appointed the first minister to Great Britain after the acknowledgement of the independence of the United States by that kingdom. He was received with marked attention and courtesy, so far as courtly etiquette and ceremony were concerned, but found the ministry morose and bitter in their feelings towards the new republic. They were unwilling to enter into a commercial treaty, and seemed to treat the peace as a mere truce between the two nations. Mr. Adams performed the delicate duties of his mission with great sagacity and wisdom, and patiently removed subsisting difficulties between the two countries. Nor did he remain passive as to the internal affairs of his country at home. To win independence he considered one thing, to preserve it, was a different and more difficult matter. The theories of a republican form of government that had been published by Thurgot[H] and others, and freely circulated in America, he considered wild and visionary, as the transient existence of the French republic subsequently proved. To strip these delusive theories of their sophistry, Mr. Adams published a learned and able disquisition on republican constitutions, which operated as a polar light to his own countrymen and had a powerful influence in correcting error and allaying prejudices in England against the government of the United States. His “Defence of the Constitutions” also placed him on a lofty eminence in view of the literati of Europe.

[H] Thurgot said of Franklin—“He first snatched the thunderbolt
from Jove, and then the sceptre from kings.”

In 1788, he obtained permission to return home, and in the autumn of the same year was elected the first vice-president of the United States under the federal constitution, the duties of which station he performed with dignity and great ability. He was a confidential counsellor of Washington, who consulted him on all important questions. He was re-elected in 1792, with but little opposition; and in 1796, he was elected president of the republic, to establish which he had perilled life, fortune and honour. At this time party spirit had commenced its career of venality and his election was warmly contested. His opponent, Mr. Jefferson, received sixty-eight votes and Mr. Adams seventy-one. During all the effervescence of party feeling, which arrayed father against son and cut asunder the long cherished ties of friendship between thousands, these two great men remained personal friends, showing at once the magnanimity of their minds and the folly of low minded foaming partizans. It was then that the American press first descended from its lofty and legitimate eminence and planted it before unsullied feet in the obloquious quagmire of party spirit. Since that time partisan presses have been sinking deeper and deeper, until some of them, _pro et con._, have become so deeply planted in the filth and scum of personal abuse and political slander, that, to use a simile, Archimedes, with the mighty powers of his lever, could not raise them to their pristine elevation in half a century. So far were matters carried by his political friends against the public measures of Mr. Adams in 1800, that Mr. Jefferson was compelled, from a sense of duty, to rebuke the slanders that were uttered, in the following emphatic language, which becomes more forcible from the fact that his own private character had been shamefully attacked by those who supported his political opponent.

“Gentlemen, you do not know that man—there is not upon earth a more perfectly honest man than John Adams. Concealment is no part of his character—of that, he is utterly incapable. It is not in his nature to meditate any thing that he would not publish to the world. The measures of the general government are a fair subject for difference of opinion—but do not found your opinions on the notion that there is the smallest spice of dishonesty, moral or political, in the character of John Adams, for I know him well, and I repeat—that a man more perfectly honest never issued from the hands of his Creator.”

Mr. Adams proceeded to the conscientious and independent discharge of his presidential duties, prompted by the best motives for the glory of his country. His administration, however, became unpopular, and at the expiration of his term the democratic party triumphed, and he retired to Quincy, to once more enjoy the long lost comforts of retirement. Much has been written upon the causes that produced the political overthrow of Mr. Adams. To my mind the solution is brief and plain. His cabinet was not of his own choosing—he was too independent to bend to party management—he opposed the humiliating demands of the then self-styled democratic France—he advocated, most earnestly, the augmentation of the navy of the United States, and recommended the law for suppressing the venality of the press. In the two first points he was impolitic as the head of a _party_—in the two next, he did what all now acknowledge to be right—and in the last, he took the wrong method to correct one of the most alarming evils of that day—an evil that still hangs over our country like an incubus. The three last were the strong points seized upon by partisans, and were rendered extremely unpopular, and enabled his opponents to defeat his re-election. He retired with a good grace, and remained the personal friend of his rival until the day of his death. He supported the policy of Mr. Jefferson towards England, and approved of the declaration of war in 1812. In writing to a friend, in July of that year, he remarked:

“To your allusion to the war, I have nothing to say—but that it is with surprise that I hear it pronounced, not only in the newspapers, but by persons in authority, ecclesiastical and civil, and political and military—that the declaration of it was altogether unexpected * * * How it is possible that a rational, a social or a moral creature can say the war is unjust, is to me utterly incomprehensible. How it can be said to be unnecessary, is very mysterious. I have thought it necessary for five or six years. How it can be said to be unexpected, is another wonder. I have expected it more than five-and-twenty years, and have great reason to be thankful that it has been postponed so long.”

He attributed the opposition of the eastern states to the war to the impolicy of the government in not cherishing the navy, and compared them to Achilles, who, in consequence of his being deprived of Briseis, withdrew from the Grecian confederacy. The augmentation of the navy was the _ne plus ultra_ of his national policy, and had his views upon this point been carried out by our government, our nation would now have been mistress of the seas, instead of having scarcely armed vessels enough to protect the expanding commerce of our enterprising merchants—a fact that has become a by-word among other nations, and has often crimsoned the cheeks of liberal minded Americans.

Soon after his retirement he was offered the gubernatorial chair of his native state, but declined the honour on account of his advanced age—but continued to take a deep interest in the welfare of his country, and wrote many essays and letters in favour of liberal principles and American rights. After the retirement of Mr. Jefferson, a most happy and interesting correspondence was continued between these two great apostles of liberty. In 1815, Mr. Adams had the gratifying pleasure of seeing his son at the head of the diplomatic commission to conclude a second treaty with Great Britain, which carried his mind back, with all the enthusiastic force of an old man’s memory, to the scenes of 1782–3, when he had performed and executed a similar mission. In 1817, he was placed at the head of the list of presidential electors, and three years after was elected president of the convention that revised the constitution he had written forty years previous. The compliment was duly appreciated by him, but his infirmities did not permit him to preside over the deliberations of that body, although he imparted his counsels and aided greatly in the revision. This was the last public act of this great man—the curtain of the political drama then closed upon him for ever. Two years previous the partner of his bosom had gone to her final rest, which was an affliction most keenly felt by him. For more than half a century she had shared with him the pains and pleasures of their eventful career, and had always met the events of life with christian fortitude. Surrounded by friends who delighted to honour him, his country prosperous and happy, enjoying the full fruition of divine grace, which had produced the fruits of unsophisticated piety through a long life, political animosities buried in oblivion, his now frail bark glided smoothly down the stream of time until the fiftieth anniversary of independence dawned upon his beloved country. On the morning of the fourth of July, 1826, an unexpected debility seized him, and he was unable to leave his bed, but no one imagined he was standing on the last inch of his time. He was asked for a sentiment, to be given for him at the celebration on that day—“INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER,” burst from his dying lips, which were the last words that he ever uttered, with a loud and animated voice. About four o’clock in the afternoon he expired—without an apparent pain, a groan, a murmur or a sigh, with a full assurance of a happy reception in that brighter world, where sin and sorrow never cross the peaceful path of the angelic throng. On the same day, and but a few hours previous, the immortal spirit of the illustrious Jefferson had left its prison of clay, thrown off its mortal coil, and perhaps took its kindred in its flight, and they together “ascended in essence to an ecstatic meeting with the friends they had loved and lost, and whom they should still love and never lose,” there to enjoy, through the rolling ages of eternity, the blissful scenes of angelic purity—the smiles and favours of their Saviour and their God.

This unparalleled combination of extraordinary circumstances produced a deep and unusual sensation in the United States and in Europe. The simultaneous departure of two of the noblest spirits that ever graced the great theatre of human life, illuminating the world around them with freedom—whose actions had resounded through the universe—whose mighty deeds had been and will continue to be a theme of wonder and admiration to the end of time—was an incident that seemed designed by the great Jehovah, to impress their precepts, their examples and their names upon the minds of men with all the force of god-like divinity.

Mr. Adams was a plain man; low in stature, not graceful in his movements, and was sometimes abrupt and repulsive. His manners were rather austere and unbending in public, but in the social circle, with his relatives and friends, he was familiar, pleasing and entertaining. He was not partial to ceremonious etiquette, and was averse to pedantry. Plain strong common sense he practised and admired. He spoke his sentiments freely, and could never have been transformed into a _technical_ politican, even had he enjoyed the magic advantages of modern schools. His open frankness was proverbial, and he often alluded to it as one of his failings. When once in Stewart’s room of paintings, he fixed his eyes upon the portrait of Washington, and then upon his own, and observing the compressed mouth of the former and the open lips of the latter, facetiously remarked as he pointed to it—“Ah! that fellow never could keep his mouth shut.” This circumstance alone did much to enhance his unpopularity as a party politician.

In the brilliant career of this great and good man the reader must discover a higher and holier eulogy than language can express. For more than fifty years he served his country ably and faithfully in a public capacity, and continued to impart his counsels until the curtain of death shut him from the world. In all the relations of private life he stood upon a lofty eminence—beyond the reach of slander. The escutcheon of his social name was too pure for the approach of the foulest of all pestiferous atmospheres—that of party spirit. And now, as his ashes rest in the peaceful grave, that hydra monster dare not impute to his actions in life a spark of political dishonesty or impurity of motive, however much he differed from other great men in his views, lest the voice of Jefferson should proclaim to them from the tomb—AN HONESTER MAN THAN JOHN ADAMS NEVER ISSUED FROM THE HANDS OF THE CREATOR.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

This revered name stands associated with every amiable and noble quality to which mortal man can attain on this dim revolving ball of human action. A sacred halo encircles it, that renders it dear to every philanthropist and respected by the whole civilized world. I am aware that his merits cannot be enhanced by eulogy, nor could detraction ever tarnish the glory of his fame. I am aware that the whole magazine of language has been exhausted in his praise. I am aware that talents of the highest order, hearts of the warmest devotion, imaginations of the happiest conception, united with the most refined and thrilling eloquence, have portrayed, in bold and glowing colours, the fair fame of WASHINGTON. To delineate fully and clearly the virtues of this great and good man, would require an angel’s pen dipped in etherial fire, and an angel’s hand to guide it. His life cannot be too often reviewed; his examples cannot be too closely imitated. Like some magnificent scenes of nature, his history is

“Ever charming, ever new,
The prospect never tires the view.”

The lustre of his virtues was of that celestial character, that, like the luminary of day, it is seen and felt, but cannot be fully described. His picture is one on which we may gaze with increased delight, and discover new beauties to the last. His memory should be rehearsed by every print in our land; every new press and fount of type should spread, in glowing capitals, the name of the beloved, the illustrious WASHINGTON. The aged sire should impress it on the hearts of the rising generation; the mother should teach it to her lisping babe; the preceptor should point his pupils to this polar star of virtue, goodness and magnanimity; and the friends of union, liberty and order, should read often, carefully and attentively, the biography of the father of our country. These are deemed reasons sufficiently strong to prompt this humble effort to delineate the interesting career of the man who was first in peace—terrible in war—the friend of humanity—the HERO OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE—and the founder of our country’s glory. To me, the subject possesses a peculiar zest, fraught with pleasure and delight.

GEORGE WASHINGTON was born in the county of Fairfax, Virginia, on the 22nd of February, 1732. He lost his father at an early age, and to the wisdom of his mother he declared himself indebted for the correct formation of his youthful mind. Matrons of America, if the mother of Washington moulded _his_ mind with such beauty and greatness, how much may _you_ do to perpetuate, through your sons, the prosperity and happiness of your favoured country! Train their youthful minds in wisdom’s ways; guide them in the paths of virtue and patriotism; teach them to love their country and its liberty; and to prize, dearer than life, the sacred boon of freedom that was nobly won and sacredly transmitted by the sages and patriots of ’76.

Washington, during his childhood and youth, exhibited a strong and enquiring mind. His habits were those of industry, perseverance and stability. He was assiduous in his studies and enriched his memory with solid and useful knowledge. He possessed a large share of merit and modesty, which gained for him the love and esteem of all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. He was frank, open, generous, humane and honest. Nothing could induce him to utter a falsehood, practice deceit, or disobey his fond mother. He soared above the vain and trifling amusements that so often divert youth from wisdom’s ways. He was designed to be a star of the first magnitude on the great theatre of action; he studied well his part before he entered upon the stage, and when the curtain rose, he was prepared for his audience, acquitted himself nobly, and retired amidst the plaudits and cheers of astonished and admiring millions.

His talents and merit attracted the attention of Governor Dinwiddie, who then presided over Virginia, the frontiers of which were greatly annoyed by the French and Indians. It was deemed necessary to send a messenger to them, demanding the reasons for their unprovoked hostility, and, if possible, to induce them to evacuate their forts, smoke the pipe of peace and disperse. Young Washington, then only twenty-one years of age, was selected to perform this important mission, which was fraught with dangers on every side. His path lay through a dense wilderness for four hundred miles, inhabited by roving Indians seeking for prey. He undertook the hazardous enterprise and arrived at his place of destination in safety. Whilst the French commandant was writing an answer to Governor Dinwiddie, Washington, unobserved, took the dimensions of the fort and returned unmolested. It was soon found necessary to raise a regiment of troops to arrest the bloody career of the savages on the frontiers. Washington was placed in command over them with the commission of colonel, and marched towards the Great Meadows in April, 1754. On his way he surprised and captured a body of the enemy. On his arrival at the Great Meadows he erected a small stockade fort, very appropriately naming it Fort Necessity. Here he was reinforced, swelling his little army to four hundred men. He then made preparations to attack Fort Du Quesne (now Pittsburgh,) but soon learned that the enemy was advancing upon him to the number of 1500 men, commanded by M. de Villiers. The attack was soon commenced with great fury, and continued for several hours, when the French commander offered terms of capitulation and was glad to permit the young champion to march away unmolested. This brilliant and bold adventure placed the talents of Washington high on the scale of eminence, as a bold, skilful and prudent officer. It occurred on the 4th of July, a happy prelude to the glorious 4th of ’76, the grand birthday of American Independence.

The following year another expedition was sent against Fort Du Quesne of about two thousand troops, under the command of the unfortunate General Braddock, who had more courage than prudence, more self-conceit than wisdom. He spurned the advice of the “beardless boy,” and rushed into a snare, where he and nearly half of his army met the cold embrace of death. The deliberate courage and superior skill of Washington, by a judicious retreat, saved the remainder from the bloody tomahawk and scalping-knife. He arrived with them safe at Fort Cumberland. By his rashness, Braddock led his men into an ambuscade of about five hundred French and Indians, who were secreted in three deep ravines forming a triangle, secure from danger unless charged, where he remained with them until he had five horses shot under him, nearly half of his men cut down, himself mortally wounded, and not an enemy to be seen. One hundred men headed by Washington, with fixed bayonets, would have dispersed them in ten minutes.

Washington, unwilling to witness again such waste of human life, resigned his military command and retired to private life. But his sterling talents were not suffered to remain long inactive. He was elected to the legislature from Frederick, and subsequently from Fairfax, and was highly respected as a wise, discerning legislator, exhibiting a mind imbued with philanthropy and liberal principles, guided by a clear judgment and a sound discretion, adorned by a retiring modesty, too rare in men of talent.

From this field of action, Washington entered one of greater magnitude and importance, big with events, involving consequences of the deepest interest to himself, to his country, and to the world. After serving the mother country in the French war with blood and treasure, after submitting to taxation, oppression, and insult for years, the colonists resolved to burst the chains of slavery, throw off the shackles of tyranny, and assume their native dignity. Every source of redress had been exhausted; every avenue of conciliation had been explored; more than reason could demand had been offered; all that was clearly _right_, and much that was clearly _wrong_, the pilgrims had submitted to, and still their ungracious, their unfeeling, their blinded mother, cried give—give—give. They had not dreamed of independence; they had only demanded sheer justice; this being denied, they resorted to the last, the only alternative. Instead of submitting to taxation, without representation—instead of yielding obedience to the pernicious stamp act, they stamped their names with unfading glory, their country with lasting fame. In the autumn of 1774, the first great Congress of the American nation assembled at Philadelphia, of which Washington was a member. The solemnities of that thrilling scene have been repeatedly alluded to as of the most imposing character. No one felt them more deeply than the father of our country. When the proceedings were opened by prayer, Washington alone was upon his knees. His mind, on all occasions, seems to have reached to heaven, his soul seemed to dwell in the bosom of his God. Devoted, unsophisticated and humble piety marked his whole life—a piety sincere in its motives and consistent in all its exhibitions. But Washington was not to remain in the hall of the Continental Congress. A mighty work was in store for him. On the memorable 19th of April, 1775, on the heights of Lexington, American blood was spilt by order of Major Pitcairn. Justice looked at the purple current as it flowed, and sighed; mercy carried the sad news to the etherial skies; the eagle of liberty caught the mournful sound, descended in a stream of liquid fire, planted the torch of freedom in the serum of the bleeding patriots and bid eternal defiance to the British lion.

The effect was electrical. The alarm spread with the rapidity of lightning. It was sounded from church-bells and signal-guns; echo carried it from hills to dales, from sire to son. Vengeance was roused from its lair; the hardy yeomanry left their ploughs in the furrow; the merchant forsook his counting-house; the professional man his office; the minister his pulpit; and with powder-horn and slug, shouldered their rusty muskets, hastened to the scene of action determined to avenge their injured rights, defend their bleeding country, or perish in the attempt. The implements of husbandry were exchanged for those of war; the mechanic shop, the bar, the desk and the forum, were exchanged for the dangers and fatigues of the army. A band of veterans arose, with “hearts of oak and nerves of steel,” headed by that bright luminary the illustrious WASHINGTON, who stood forth the champions of LIBERTY, the advocates of FREEDOM; resolved upon emancipation or death; pledging their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honours in defence of their common country; looking to Heaven for strength, guidance and support. Illustrious heroes! disinterested patriots! yours exceeded all Greek, all Roman fame.

In June following, Washington was appointed by the unanimous voice of the Continental Congress commander-in-chief of the American armies. This appointment he accepted with diffidence and reluctance, feeling that it involved responsibilities, consequences and results too mighty for him to assume, too vast for him to encounter.

He did not view it as the field of glory, of conquest, of ambition, or of fame. He did not thirst for human blood or exult in the profession of arms. Love of country, of liberty, of human rights, of liberal principles, and the oppressive chains of tyranny, prompted him to action.

Before his arrival at Cambridge, to enter upon the important duties of his command, the fortress of Crown Point and Ticonderoga had fallen into the hands of the colonists.

The sanguinary battle of Bunker Hill had been fought, which convinced the British that men contending for their just rights, their dearest interests, their bosoms fired with indignation and patriotism, could not be made to yield to the glittering arms of a haughty monarch without a bold and daring effort to maintain that liberty which they had received at their birth from the hands of their Creator.

War now assumed a serious aspect, the bloody toils of the revolution commenced. England poured in her legions by thousands, and, to cap the climax of the terrific scene, called to her aid the blood-thirsty Indian with his tomahawk and scalping-knife. The welkin rang with the savage war-whoop and the expiring groans of mothers and babes. The contest seemed to be that of an infant with a giant, a lamb with a lion. The dark clouds blackened as they rose, charged with the fury of demons and the lightning of revenge.

Washington viewed their fiery aspect with calm serenity, heard their portentous roar without a tremor. With a soul reaching to heaven, he met the awful crisis with firmness and wisdom before unknown; his gigantic mind soared above the highest pinnacle difficulty could rear; his course was onward towards the goal of LIBERTY; beneath his conquering arm monarchy trembled, tottered and fell.

His whole energy was now directed to the organization of the army and a preparation for future action. An important expedition was planned against Canada, which was attended with great hardship, boldness and perseverance. It was entrusted to Generals Montgomery and Schuyler, who were subsequently followed by Arnold. It was crowned with success, until an unfortunate attack was made upon Quebec, where the brave Montgomery fell with many other valuable officers and soldiers. The ensuing spring the American army evacuated Canada. The royal governors in some of the colonies, by the aid of the king’s troops, still maintained the authority of the crown, but they were soon compelled to flee on board of the British ships of war, where they issued their proclamations with about as much effect as the puffing of a porpoise.

Early in March, 1776, Washington appeared before Boston, where lord Howe had concentrated his army, and took a position that induced the English general to evacuate the town on the 17th of the same month. In July, the fort on Sullivan’s Island was attacked by General Clinton and Sir Peter Parker, and after an action of ten hours, Sir Peter was compelled to retire with his silk breeches disfigured by the rudeness of a cannon ball, his ships badly torn to pieces by the rebel artillery, and two hundred of his men killed and wounded. The fort was defended by Colonel Moultrie with about five hundred men, with twenty-six nine and eighteen pounders. Sir Peter had two fifty gun ships, four frigates and several small vessels, with three thousand veteran troops. There was so much elasticity in the southern climate on this occasion, that the royalists did not venture there again for nearly two years.

On the 7th of June, Richard Henry Lee, a member from Virginia, made a motion in Congress to break off all allegiance with the mother country, and assume the rightful dignity of a free and independent nation. This resulted in the appointment of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman and Philip Livingston, a committee to draft a declaration of independence; and, on the 4th of July, they arose in all the majesty of greatness, and in view of an admiring heaven and an astonished world, published that master-piece of composition which gave us national birth, absolved us from kingly power, planted the tree of liberty deep in our soil, and showed to anxious and gazing millions, that a nation could be born in a day and live. Language can never express, and none but those who witnessed the thrilling scene can fully conceive with what enthusiastic joy this declaration was received by the people. The bells sounded a requiem and funeral knell for monarchy; illuminations and roaring artillery quickly conveyed the glad news from the central arch of the union to its remotest bounds; the blazing torch of liberty rose, like a pillar of fire, to guide the patriots in their onward march; on the wings of thanksgiving and praise the happy tidings ascended to the throne of heaven, received the sanction of Jehovah’s high authority, and were recorded by the hand of justice, with an angel’s pen, in the book of everlasting fame. Kindred hearts mingled in joy and gratitude, and every FREEMAN shouted a hearty response—a loud AMEN.

On the 2nd of July, Admiral and General Howe landed near the narrows, nine miles below the city of New York, with twenty-four thousand men. They sent an insulting communication to Washington, which he very properly refused to receive. That part of the American army stationed at Brooklyn, under the command of General Sullivan, was attacked and defeated with great loss, on the 27th of August; and Generals Sullivan, Sterling and Woodhull were taken prisoners. Two days after, Washington planned and effected a retreat, and landed the troops from Long Island safely in New York, before the movement was discovered by the enemy. Chagrined and mortified at the loss of their prey, the British prepared to attack the city, which induced the Americans to evacuate it and retire to White Plains. Here they were attacked on the 28th of September; the British were repulsed, a considerable loss was sustained on both sides, neither party gaining a decided advantage. The disasters of the patriots multiplied rapidly; fort Washington and fort Lee fell into the hands of the English, and the American army was flying before a barbarous and conquering foe.

Washington crossed the Hudson, and retreated through New Jersey into Pennsylvania, with Lord Cornwallis pressing on his rear. His army was now reduced to three thousand men, who were destitute of almost every comfort of life; they could be tracked by blood from their naked feet on the frozen ground; disaster had chilled the zeal of many leading men who at first espoused the cause of liberty; a cloud of fiery indignation hung over the bleeding colonies, ready to devour them. But in the archives of heaven their FREEDOM was recorded; guardian angels directed their destiny; the bold career of the lion was arrested; this Spartan band was crowned with victory, and the red coats, in their turn, beat a retreat.