The New York Herald Newspaper, February 24, 1852, Page 7

, DANIEL WESSTER’S ADDRESS BEPORE THE NEW YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY, NIBLO’S THEATRE. Tremendous Crowd and Great Enthusiasm. the Stage. Actording to announsomont, the Hon. Daniel Wobster deliverd an address last evening, before the Historical Society, st Niblo’s Garden. The @oors of the theatre were thrown open at half- past six o’olock, and such a rush was never seen at Ninlo’s before—such a dense multitude never filled its capacious precincts. Tho élite and fashion of the whole city sovm to have congro- gated together, and ths groatest enthusiasm prevailed. All the strangers at tho different hotels—all the olergy of tho metropolis—the members of the legal profession, and othor professions-—the Jiiterateurs and tho _ politici- oians—together with an array of female beauty and fashion that cast the most brilliant nights of the opera into the shade—presented euch an assem: blage as has rarely, perhaps never, met within the walls of any building in New York. Not oaly was every seat occupied in a very few minutes, with the exception of the parquotto—which was reserved for the members of the society—but every chair about the theatro was brought into requisition; and atill vast nuenbors were compelled to stand in the bsek ground. Hundreds who remained, never heard or eaw him at all, and many went away in despair. There was, in fact, a perfoct fwrore, whatever ox- cited it. At a quartor past sevon o’clock, Mr. Webster mado his appearance in the diaing saloon, where Most Successful Debut on » be was introduced to the President, the committee, and the members ofthe socisty, who hadassembled there—having been admitted by mombers’ tickets. Immediately after, they proceeded in a body to oc- oupy the parqustte, which had boen reserved for them. it was arranged that Mr. Webster should address the audiense fron: the stage; and accordingly the great star appeared there in all his glory, precisely at half past sevon o’clock. He was acoompanied by tho committee and executive officers. His appear anvo was the eignal for one sf the most tremendous bursts of applause we ever heard. The débit of the honorable gentleman was completely successfal. He wore whito vest, a3 usual, and seomed in good health and spirits. Hoe took his saat at a table for 8 few minutos, till quiet wassecured in the audience. The azsemblago was thon called to order by the Presipenr, who announced that Rey. Dr. Dewey would open the proceedings by prayer. The Rey. gentloman then offered a prayer of somo length, imploring a blessing upon tho society, and concluding with “the Lord’s Prayer.” Luturx Baapisn, Esq , the President of the socie- ty,then introduced Mr Weaster formally to the au- dience, saying ho would not detain them by any remarks of his, knowing how impaticnt they must be to hear tho great man who was now bofore then. The Hen. Dante, Wensrer thon presented him- ef, and the scene of enthusiasm bafiles all dosorip- tion. When tho tumuituous cheering, waving of hats and handkerchiefs, subsided, he pro- ovcded to deliver his address, as follows, whish he did with great distinctness and offect, meking him- telf heard plainly in every part of the house, excopt by those who were complotely in the background:— THE ADDRESS. The object of your ascociation, gentlemen, like that of others of similar character, is highly impor- tant. Historical societies are auxiliary to histor’- cal compositions. They eolleet tho material from which the great narrative of events is, in duo time, tobe framed. The trangactions of public bodics, local histories, memoirs of all kind, statistics, laws, ordinances, public debates, and discussions, works of periodical litsrature, and the public journals whether of political events, of commores, literature or the arta, all find their places in the collections of historical sosieties. But these collections are not history; they are only elements for history. Histo- ry is a higher name, and importa literary produs tions of the first order. It is presumptuous in me, whose labors and studies have been s0 long devoted to other objects, to speak in the presence of those whom I sea before me, ofthe dignity and importance of history ia its just sense; and yet I find pleasuroin breaking iuupon tho course of daily pursuits, and indulging, fora time, in reflections upon topics of literature, and in the remombrance of the great examples of historic art. Well written history must always bo the ree sult of genius and taste, as well as of attainment It stands next to epic poetry, in the productions of the human mind. If it roquires loss of invention than that, it is not behind it in dignity and impor- tanco. The power of the epic consists ia the narrative of real or supposed events, and the repre- sentation of real, or at least natural, characters; and history, in its noblest examples, is an account of occurrences, in which great events are com- memorated, and distinguished men appoar as agents and actors. Epic peetry and the drama ore but narratives—the former partly, and the latter wholly, in the form of dialogue; but their characters and personages are usually the creations of the imagioation. Severs history sometimes arenmes.the dialoguo or dramatie form, and, without departing from truth, is embellished by euppored colloquies or peechos, ag in the production of that great macter litus Livius, or that greater master still, Thucy- dides. , ‘The drawing of characters, consistent with go- neral truth fidelity, is no vio: on of histori- col accuracy; it is only an illustration or an oma: went, When Livy ascribes an appropriate speech to ond of bis historical perconagos, it is only as if bo had portrayed tao same character in language pro- fostedly bia own. Lord Clarendon’s presentation, n his own words, of the character of Lord Falk. jond, one of tho highest and most successful efforts of personal description, is hardly different from what it would have been, if ho had put into the mouth of Lord Falkland o speech exhibiting the same quali- tice of the mind and the heart, the samo opinions, and the samo attachments. Homer describes tho notions of porsonayes, whied, if not real, are so yuegined os to bec uble tothe general cha- yactorintics ofmeu in the horoic ages. If his rela tion bo not historically trua, it ia such, neverthe- , a5, malemg due allowance for postical embel- monte, might have been true. greot epic, Which is so, almoct entirely mado up of yarratives and specck ere is nothing repugnaat tothe general conception which we form of tho y ors of thore whose sentiments and conduct peeok. 9 it Mlustrates and adorns, con. , wid to tho narrative of agtunl rom truth to say, that istory is the epic of real | s of men ia au attractive and § what is improper and en And the ¢ ory consists in roclting yy and in presenting dime s, and koop Its parts, thor ted and well proporti tort artist aa trae to fact as other artiste ate (o watore; andthuaghhe may sometine: lich, he never talsrepresonts; he may oc porbaps, color too highly, bat tho truth is still visi Andina Milton’s | | those who fell ix the Pelopcnesian war, is one of tho ioture With real, jast, and woll | design seems essential to all ; produstioas. wig all the variety of tho list, Homer kept tao wrath of Achilles, and its consequences, always in view ; when he «1 of the exploits of other heroes, they were silently subordinated to the son of Thotis, Stilt more remaikable is tho unity in variety of the Od; seey, the character of which is mush more com- plicated, but all the pee are artfully adapted to each other, and they have a common centre of in- terect and aetion—the great end being the restora: tien of Ulysses to his native lthaca. Virgil, in the Moeid, sang of nothing but the man and his acts, who brought the Trojan gods to ltaly, and laid the foundation of the imperial walls of Rome; and Malton of nothing bat Man’s firet disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, And the beat historical productions of ancient and of moderm times have fidelity to one leading thought or purpose. It bas been said by Lord Bolingbroke, that * hise tory is philosophy teaching by example ;” and ba- fore Bolingbroke, Shakspeare has said :— © There is a history is all men’s lives, Figuricg the uature of the times deceased; The which observed, a man may prophecy, With @ vear aim, of the main chance of things, As yet not come to life, which in their Beeds and weak beginnings lie entreasured. Buch things necome the hatch and brood of time; And, by the necersary form of this, ", him, King Kichsrd might ereate a perteot gu! That great Northumberland, then false to Would of that reed grow to a greater falaeners, Whick should not fled » ground te rest upon, Unlees on you.” “ Are these things, then, necessities ? ‘Then let us meet them like necessities "* And @ wiser man than either Bolingbroko or Shakespeare haa declared :— “ The thing that hathebeen, it is that which shall bi and that which is done,is that which shall bs done; and there is no new thing under the suu.”” These sayings are all just, and they proceed upon the idea that tho essential characteristics of human naturo are the ame every where, and in all ages. This, doubt is true; and so far as history presents the ies and propensities of human nature, it does teach by example. Bolingbroke adds, with remarkable power of expression, *' that the schoolof example is the world, and its great masters or teachers are history and experience.” But the charactor cf man so much varices, from age to age, botn in his individual and oolisctive capacity, there comes such a change of circuin- stances, 20 many new obj-cts of desire and aver- sion, and 80 many new and powerful motives spring ap in his mind, that the conduct of men, in one ago, or under one state of circumstances, is no sure and precise indication of what will be their conduct, when times and circumstances alter; fo that the example of tho past, before it can become a useful instructor to tho present, must bo reduced to elemen- tary principles in human nature, freed from tho influence of conditions which were temporary and Rave changed, and applied tothe same pringiples under new relations, with o different degree of knowledge, and the impulses arising from the alter- ed state of things. A savage hag che passions of ambition, revengo, love and glory; and ambition and love, revenge and the hopa of renown, are also elements in the character of civilized life ; but the developement of thoso passions, in a state of bar barisw, hard!y instructs us as to the manner in which thoy will exhibit themselves in a cultivated period of society. And so it is of religious sontiment and fooling. I believe man is everywhere, moro or less, a religious being ; that is to say, in all countries, and atall | times, bo feels the tie which connects kim with an invisible power Jt is true, indeed, and it is @ remarkable fact in the history ot mankind, that in the very lowort stago of human existenca, and in the opposite ex- treme of high civilization, surrounded with every- thing luxurious in life, and with all the means of human knowledge, tho idea of an unseen and eupericr governor of the universe is most likely to be equally doubted or disregarded. ‘Tue lowest of human, savage existence, and the intelleetual and refined atheism, such a3 we have seen exhibited in our day, seem to be strangely coincident in this respect; though it is from oppo- site causes and influcnces that these clases are led to doubt or deny the existence of a supreme power. But both these are exseptions to the general cur- rent of human thought, and the general conviction of our nature. 5) Man is naturally religious; but thon his roligion takes its character from his condition, his degree of knowledge, and hisasscciations; aud, therefore, itis true that the religious feeling which operates in one state of society, and under one degree of light and knowledge, is not a safe example to prove its probable izfiuence and operation under circum: stances ecescutially different; so that when we ro- gard history as our instructor, in the developement cf the perceptions and character ef men, and in the motives which actuate them, there comes a con comitant rush of altered circumstances, which are all to be considered aud regarded. History, therefore, is an example which may teach us tho general principles of human nature, but does not instruct us greatly in its various pos- sible developements. What Dr. Johnsen said, in his comparison of Dry- den and Pope, ia not inapplicable to this topic. “Dryden,” said he, **knew more of man ia his general nature, and Pope in his lseal manners.” Dryden’s seatiments, therefore, aro the exemplar of buman nature in general, Pope’s of hamaa nature 8s modified in particular relations and circumstan- ces. And what is true of individual man, is true, also, of eociety and government. The lovo of liberty, for instance, is a passion and sentiment, which existed in intense force in the Gre cian republics, andin the early history of Rome. It exists now, chiefly, and first of all, on that por- tion of the Western continent in which we livo. Here it burns with heat and with splendor beyond all Grecian andall Roman example. It is not a light in the temple of Minerva, itis not a vestal fleme in Rome; itis the light of the eua, it is the illumination of all the constellations. Marth, air, aud ccesn, andall the heavens above us, are filled with its glorious illumination; aud, thereforo, though the passion and tho sentiment are the same, yet ke who would reason from Grecian liberty, or from Roman freedom, to our iatelligent American liberty, would be holding a farthing can- dle to the orb of sey The magnitieent faacral oration of Pericles over grandest oratoricsl productions of antiquity. It contains sentiments and excites emotions congenial to the minds of all lovers of liborty, in allrogions andatalltimes. It exhibits a strong and ardons attachment to country, which true patriots always feel—an undaunted courage in jts defence, and a re- golution and a wiNinguess to pledge and hazard ail for the maiatenance of liberty. | cannot deny my- self the pleasure of quoting afew patsages from that celeprated address :— : “Tt sball, therefore, begin first,” said Pericles, “with our forefathers, since both justice and do- cency require, we should on this occasion bestow on them an honorable remembrance. In this, our country, they kept themselves always firmly setiled and through their valorj handed it down freot every ginee succesding generation. Worthy in- deed of praise are they, snd yet more worthy are our immediate fathers ; eince, cnla inheritance into the extensive empire which we now possess, they bequeathed that, their work o toil, to us theie cons. Yet, even theso 6 4, we Ourcelvos, hero pierent, we who are yetinthe suergth and vigor of our days, have nobly im- preveg, and have made euch provi Athens, that now it is all-sufficie every exigence of war and of peace. : “Put by what methods wo havo riven to thia height of glory and power, by what polity and by what condnet We are thus aggrandized, t shal first endeavor to shew, and then proceed to the praise of the deceased. Thee, in my opinice, can be no impertinent topics on this ocowsion; the discussion of them must be beneficial to this numerous com pany of Athenians and of strangers. “We are happy in a form ef government which cannot envy the Jaws of our neighbors; for it hath sorved as a model to oth but is original at Athena And this our form, as ccmusitted not to the few, but to the whole bedy of the people, is called a demosracy. How dillerent eoover in a pris vate capacity, we all enjoy tie taino genera! equal- ity which ovr laws are fitted to proerve, aud sapa— rior honors just as woexcel. ‘Cho public adminis tration is not confined to @ partiou’sr family, but is attainable only by merit. Poverty is aet & bin dronce, {since} boever is able to serve his country, meets with no obstacle to preforment from his first obscurity. ‘The offices of the State re go througa without obstructions from one another, and live to- gether in the mutual endearments of private life without suspicions; pot angry with @ Fh following the bent of his owa humor, ate ebance a iteoli to auswer x putting on pains, though t in private life we conversa ismoge, whilst we dare n ngainst the pub 9 the m iv without any account ofle reverence Wo b and the laws; reas of tho in wa, @ breach of jured nose unw which have evory#here leit bebi | moruments both of our enmity & to bo tho horald of onr his ering nien of ex t ry fea y land bath | by 1 1 yp for you who now survive them, you may pray for a better fortune, but you must, never ider it your duty to preserve the sawe we thelees. | splcis and warmth of courage against your enemies; xo! judging of the expediency of this from mero | harangue, where eny map, indulging ina flow of been written, with eqaal | ve for | Pie through the lights and shades. ‘This unity of | words | | the intercourse of man w ing theirown | | conditi 8 for vhis, our | | from the foundation of the city to the time of Livy | dignant rebukes of Sallust, and tho inimitable sa- | end which, may tell you, what you yourselves know 98 well as he, how many a4vantages there are in fighting valiantly against your enomies, but rather waking the daily increaring grandeur of this com- munity the object of your thoughta, and growing quite cnamored of it. “And wheu it really appears great in your apprehensions, thirkagain that this grevetue was acquired by brave and valiant mon— y wen who knew their dnty, aud in the moments of action wero sensible of shame and feared ro- ploach; who, whenever their attempts wero unsuc- cereful, thought it dishonor that their country evould stand in necd cfanytbing their valor could dofor it, and eo made itthe mos? glorious present. Bestow- ing their lives on the public, they have every one received a praire that will never decay, a sepulchre that will always be most illustrious—not that in which their bones lie moulderivg, but that in which their fame is preserved, to be on every occasion, when honor is the theme of either word or act, eter nally remembered. ‘(his whole earth is the sepul- chre of illustrious men; nor is it the inseription on the columns of their native soil alone that show their merit, buttbe memorial ef them better than ail inscriptions, in every foreign nation, reposited more durably ia universal remembrance than on their own tomb. From this very moment, emu- lating these noble patterns, placing your happines! in liverty, and liberty in valor, be prepared to en- counter all the dangers of war.” Gentlemen, does not every page, paragraph, and sentence of what | have read, go home to all our hearta, carrying a most gratified consciousness of resemblance to what is near and dear to usin our native Jand? Is it Athens or America’? Is Athens or America the theme of these immortal Strains? Wue Pericles speuking of his own coun- try, as he saw it or know it, or was he gaziug upon @ bright vision then two thousand yoara before bh m, which we éce in reality, and as he saw in pros ect? But the contests of Sparta and Athens, what wore they in lasting importance, and in their beariag on the destinies of the world, in comparison with that ever momorable struggle which peperatea the cole- nies frcm the dominion of Europe How differont the result which betided Athens from that which crowned the glorious efforts of our ancestors; and, therefore, this renowned oration of Pericles. what is it in comparison with an effort of historical eloquence which should justly set forth the merits cf tho heroes and the martyrs of the American revolution? And the liberty of Athons. and of the otber Grecian republics, being founde in pure democracies, without any principleof repre- sentation, was fitted only tor small States. The ex- ercise of popular power, in a purely domocratic form, cannot be extended over countries of large ex- tent; because, insuch countrios, ali cannot assemble in the same place, to vote direstly upon laws and ordinances and other publio questions. But the principle of representation is expansive ; it may be enlarged, if not infinitely, yet indefinitely, te meet new occasions, and embrace new regions, Whiie, therefore, the love of liberty was the same, and its gexeral principle the same, in the Grecian republic as with us, yet not only were forma ossen- tially different, but that also was wanting which we have been taught to consider as indispensable to its cecurity; that i, @ fixed, settled, definite, funda- mental law, or constitution, imposing limitations and restraints equally on governors, sig paren i. ‘We may, therefore, inhale all the fullness and greatness of tho Grecian epirits, but wo necessarily give its developementa different form, and subject it to Lew modifications. But history is not only philosophy teaching by example ; its true purpvgo is, also, to illustrate the general progress of society in knowledge and the arts, and the changes of manners and pursuits of men. Thero is an imperfection, both in ancient and modern histories, and those of tho best masters in this respect. While they recite public transactions, they omit, ina great degreo, what belongs to tho civil, gocial, and domestic progress of men and na- tions. ‘Chere is not, so fur as iknow, a good civil kistory of Nemo, nor is there an account of the manners and habits in social and domestic life, as may itform usof the progress of hor cil ns, and Sallust, in individual exhibitions of charactor. ye know, indeed, something of tho private pur- suits and private vices of the Roman peoplo at the commencement of the empire; but we obtain our knowledge of these chiefly from the severe aud in- tires of Juvenal. Wars, foreign and domestic, the achievements of arms, and nauonal alliaccea ill up | the recorded greatness of the Roman emp're. it is very remarkable that, in this respect, Roman literatare is far more deficient than that of Grecce. Aristophanes, and other Grecian comic writers, have scenes richly filled with the deline- ation cf the lives and manners of their own paopie. But the Reman imitutors of the Grecian siage gave themselves wp to the reproduction of forviga characters on their own stage, and presented in their dramas-Grecian macners also, icstead of Roman wenners. How much wiser was Soake- peere, who exchaired the attention ef his a cee, and still enchains the attention of th Teutonic race, by the presentation ¢f Lag’ mannexe and English history ? Falsteff, Justice Shallow, and Dogberry, are not shrubs of foreign growth, transplanted iavo tre peges of Shakepeare, but genuine productions of tao soil. the creations of his own home bred fancy Mr. Banks has written # civil history of Rome; but it sceme not to have auswered the great end which it propered. The labors of Niebuhr, Arnold, and \ have accompliched much towards furnishing tho materials of such history, and Becker, ia his Gat- jus, has drawn a picture not uninteresting, of the private life of the Romans at tho Commoacement of the empire. : I krow nothing of the fact, but I once had an ine timation, that one of the most distinguished writers of our time and of our country hus had his thoughts turned to this subject for several years. If this be so, and tho work, said to bein contemplation, be perfected, it will be true, as | have no doubt, that the civil history of the great republic of antiquity will have been written, not only with thorough research, but also with ole Sd of style, and chaste, classical illustratioa, y a citizen of the great republic ef modern times. | trust, that when this work shall appear, if it shall appear, we ebail not only see the Roman consul and the l'oman general, the Comitia and the Forum, but that wo shail, also, sce Roman hearths and altars, the lioman matron at the hoad of her household, Rsman children in their schools of instruction, aud the whole of Roman lifo fully preecatcd to our view, so far as tho waterials, 20w existing in separate and special works, afford the means. it is in our day only that the history and progress of the civil and fecial institutions and manners of England have become the subjects of particulur at- | tention. Sheron Turner, Lingard, and, more thaa all, Mr. Hajlam, have laid this age, and all fotlowing ages, under the heaviest obligations by their labors in this field of Jiterary comporitien; nor would I soparate from them tho writings of a most learned and clo- | quent person, whose work on English history is now in progrers History of Eng a full, thoroug n eur English anceste shail trace the lish lerivale, ut there is still wanting Social account of iz, a history which of social life in man, the advance | gos in the hab la, and those improves have attended the of arts, the various ¢ and ocoupations of indivi ments in domecti in the & a history of fir kings and queens ex: hanged becs of Ww beos of down, and | coated to breakfast on beef and beer. We wish | to tee more, and k moro, of the changes | which took place from inthe homes of as it goes, is not Ww too soon, and even in the period whioh fell and satisfac- reeard t | it embraces, it is not evfl tory in ite particulars ‘The feudal ages were © tory and agricultural, history of the ritere; and pi but the splendor of armé ibe times, monopolized baps materials are aknowledge of the e Ho would te a public struc J Prev Log ard inception in t of Henry iV, ot r considerable developement two atterws Th rees of re are bwo BOY bave e nily ex of knowledge. 1 mean the étatotes, and the pro: . gs of tho courte of Jaw. Atan early period I recurred, with some degreo of atte to fe (curecs of informatien—ne nal purposes, ne for the el progrecs of seciety. J acquainted ebjcet, and purpores, apd eubst d tta‘ulein Britieh legislatio at the Legislature of the co u to time, and {rox mr te tho reports of con ey » What where the parsaits and ndividuals, and what ibe "6 arnestly engaged attention I ha bing which more repays r h thew eludies thie kird We learn from thom whet pursuits ocevpicd men during the foudal ages We feo the cflorts of society to throw off the chaing of this ferdal dominion. We seo too, ins most inte ing nerner, the ingenious devices resorted to to Yroole the thraldom of pcrsonal slavery. Wetec the bopinning of manufac § intorsste, and at length neverthelose, ace tion of ayeelt wil ¢ of every j Thoso she y wa | of publio records there were noue, or at the most, | history he undertook to relate; but he is loss crod- | heareals Jed the Gree | toa more advanced state of culture nor tho author of the Piotorial | | ! good Greek historian. bursts upon us the {ull splondor of the commercial age. Littleton, Coke, Plowden, what are they ? How their learning fades away ana becomes obsolete wher Holt, and Somers, aud Manofield arise, oatoh- | belonging to the Roman tongue at an ear! ing themselves, and infusing al! around chem, the ixtivences, and the knowledge which commerce had hed upon the world? Our great teachers and examples in the hiatori- 1 art ure. doubtless, the eminent historians of the Greek and Roman ages. Io thoir several ways, they are the wasters to whom all succeeding times bave iccked for instruction, and improvement. ‘They are the models which havo stood the test of time, and, like the giorious creations in marblo of Grecian genius, have been always admired aud never eurpas:ed. We have our favorites in literature, as well as otherthings, and, ! confess, that, among the Gro- cian writere, my cétimate of Herodotus is great. His evident truthfulnoss, his singular simplicity of style, and bis constaot respects and veneration for tacred and divine things, win my regard. I[t is true that he sometimes appears crodulons, which caused Aristotle to say oF him that he was a story teller. But, in respect to this, two things are to bo remarked—the ong is, that he nover avers as afoct that which rests on the ascounts of others; tho other ig, that all subsequent travels and dis- coverice have tended to confirm his fidelisy. From his great qualitics a: a writer, a8 well a3 from the age in which he lived, ho is justly denomi- pated the * Father of Iiistory.” Herodotus was ® conscientious narrator of what he saw and heerd. In his manner there is much of the old epic style; indeed, his work may be considered as the connecting link, between tho epio legend and political history; truthful, on the one band, sines it was a genuino history; but, on the other, conceived and executed in tho spirit of pootry, and not the profounder spirit of political philosophy. It breathes a reverential eubmisaion te the divine will, and recognises distinctly the governing: hand of Providence in the affairs of men. But, apon the whole, | am compelled to regard Thney ages as the reater Writer. Thucydides was equally trathful, ut more conversant with the motives and charac- | ter of men in their political rolations. Ho took infinite pains to make himself thoroughly acquaint- ed with transactions that occurred in his own day, and which became tho subject et his own narrative. It is said, even, that persona were employed by him to obtain information from both the belligerent ewors, for his use, while writing tho history of the eloponesian war. He was one of the most eminent citizens of the Athenian ropublio, educated under tho institutions of Solon, and trained in ail the political wisdom these institutions had doveloped in the two centu- ries since their establishment. A more profound intellect never applied iteelf to historical investiga- tion; a more clearsighted and impartial jadge of human conduct never dealt with tho fortunes and | etarum rerum egeng, quod accedam, aut quos ap tion. He is suffision without being mi pawns and indivi ‘here are, indeed, is sententious, or obscure ; and his powor of | ual description is remarkable. in his style, some roughnosses — rags; but they seem to strengthen the structure of his sentences, without especially injuring their beauty. | No character drawing cau well execed his dolinea- | tion of Cataline, his eocount of Jugurtha, or bis | parallel between Cwrar ardCato. Lbave thought, sometimes, that I saw resemblances between his terse acd powerful periods, and the romarka and seyings of Dr. Johnson, as they appear, not in his stately performances, bat iathe record of bis cou | versations, by Boswell. 2 In turping’ to peruse once more the pagos of Sal- lust, to refresh myself for (he proparations ef this | address, I wase(ruck by the aoinoidence of @ trans. | notion narrated by him, end ono which wo havo | feen very recently in eur Ova country. | Won Jugurtha bad pus to death Hiemy expelled Adherbal from his righ’ latier, who was born in Numidia, and not ia Han. gory, come to Rome to invoke, what we shouldeall, | the intervention of the Loman people. His spesek delivered on that occasion, in the Sonate, ag Nal- lust has given it, is one of the most t made by a man in misfortune, and suffering fram injury, to those having the power of granting relief or redress. His eupplication to Senat ed on the bread and geveral idea, that the Roman people were just shomsolves, afd, as they had tho ower, £6 it was uty to pr or punish igh handed injustics threateucd or inflioted by | others. “Bed quoniam parum tute per s9 ipsa . Beque | mili in wavu fuil, Jvjurtha quolis f A vos confugi, | patres covecripti, quibus, quod misserrimum, cogor | prius oneri, quam urui esse, Ceteri reges aut bello | victi in amiocttiam a yobis receptt, aut tn suis dubus | rebus ecoietatem vestram appetiverant; familia nostra cum pepulo Romans bello Carthngivienti amicitiam in- ftituit; quo tempore magis fides ejus, quam fortune petenda Querum progemem vos, patres conscripti, | note peti frustra » ¢ auxilium petere. Si ad | jmpetraudum nihil cow eberem, privter missrandam fortunam ; quod paulo te rex, genera, fama aiyue copiis potexe, nunc deformatus a rurunis, inopy, alienas opes expect; tarien erat insjestatis Romant populi pro. hibere ipjuriqm neque patt cujusquam reguum per scolus erescere, imum infelix accedam? Generis ota sunt; pater, Uti necesse erat, it; fratri, quem iminime deouit, propia- quus per scelus vitant eripuit: afines, amicos, pr ceteres. sliuia elia clades oppresmt: capt al pars in crucem acta, para be-tiis object elicta anima, clauni in terebris, cum mos luctv, morte gravicrem, vitem exiguat. Biomola, qui gut rmisi,aul ex necersariis adverss facta sunt, inoo- lumia wenerent; tamen, si quid ex improviso accidinset, yes implorareia, patres conecriptl, quibus, pro magni- tudine imperil, jus et fujurias omnes cur esse decet, Nuno vero exsul patria, domo, solus et omnium hone. pellem ? natioverne. an reges, qui omnes familic nost: acts of political communitios. 2 ‘The work of Heredotus is graphic, fluent, dra- matic, and ethical im tho highest degree; but it is not the work of alreo citizen of a free republic, Peeaaly experienced in the conduct of its affairs. | revno, rerum humanwrum epectaculum preebeo: inesrtus . | quid e, snr be ‘be hietory of the Peloponesian war, on the other band, could only have been produced by a man who added to vast genius deep personal insight into the workings of various public institutions. As Thucydides himself saya, his history was writ- ten not for tho entertainment of the moment, but to be “a possession forever.” There can, it ecems to me, that the first works, by which mau oxpregzod kia thoughts ard feelings in an orderly composition, | were essentially poetical. In tho oarliost writings, of which we know anything with distinctness, wo embodying the traditions and history of the people | smong which they arose. | Like other intollectual culture, tory appeared firstin tho last, and, from the days of | Meses and Joshua down to our own times, it hag there retained substantially the eame character. | mean it hasheena remarkable mixture of the spirit | ot history and of epic poetry. In Greeoo, we may obrerve originally the same state of things; but the | two forms of composition soon became separated, though the Greek historical art, when nighost, never loses all its relations to the epic. Tho ear | liest Greek poets wero religious and historisal poots, dealing in the traditions and mythology of thoir | country, and £0 continued down through Homer. | Heredotus was by birth an Asiatic Greek, and was quite imbued with the ociental spirit. In his time, there were only local registers of public events, and their dates, such, for ance, ag those kept by the priesthood in the V'emples at Delphiand Arges, or tee registers of particular families. He travelled therefore, to collect the materials for his History. but be made of them one whole, and laid one idea at the bottom, with as much Epic simplizity as Ho- aner did in the Iliad. His subject wag the contest of swith the Porsiens and the triuaph of Gre- erty, or, more strictly, the great Grecian victcry over the barbarians who had conquered the then known. The relations between Iero- snd Homer are not to bo mistaken; ho not only has episcdes, like the long one about Egyp’, and ferme! speechos, which were common ia Ec ithe eixt century of our cra, n éince, but he has div. rvcementin politics! knowledge for the age of Pericle:--1 inean thet in which the con- i st tho Magi of Persi: rovionsly to of Daxius, digenss the different forms of government, much in the spirit of Monteequicn. Put ail there thinga are kept in thoir proper places by Hercdctus. He feele tho connection of his sub- ject ulithe wey through; how one event proceeds from another, and how ail tends to the principal result, or coutributes to it directly. In ‘Thucydides, the art of history is farthor ad- vaneed, though he lived very little later than Hero- dotus, and probably had read or heard his history, though that is doubted. ‘Thuoy dides did not, indeed, make one wholo of bis work, for he did not survivo the war whose ulous than Heredotus; ke has no proper dialogue ; he ismore compact ; he indulges very little in epi- sodes; he draws charactcre, and his specchcs are more like formal, stately discussions. And ho says of them, they aro such as ho either beard himself, or received irom thoeo who did hear them, and he states that he gives them in their truo eubtanco. There isnothing to create a doubt that personally be heard the oration of Pericles; snd it is remark- able that, throughout the most flourishing period of Greek literature, both postiosl and historical, productions were composed to bo heard, rather than to be read; and the practice of lis ng to their re- ple to attain great accu: racy, as well as retentivenees of momory. In shert, Herodotus’ work scoms a natura’ production of the soil; that of Thuoydid Quai faye of tho former, / of the Jatter, Dens ‘evis cL semper tn Xenophon, in his Hellenica, continues Thucy di dio was a military leador, and familiar with t | po bono reasonablo doubt, i | etill, ithae always struck me that, in tho style of have an union, or mingling, of poetry and fact, | Livy, there was vo much fulnoss, go muck accumu. this form of his | degree of diflidence. | tribi affairs of State, and though not so deep a thinker, was 2 moro graceful and casy writer. Polybius, living in a wuch later period, is defoctive in etyle, but 18a wigo and eeneible author. His objoct is | cot merely to show what has been, bat to ntte | the inetr ion of the future—making " what he calls a demonstrative history, fitted fe the vee of statesmen. No is the last of the really The Romans had tho groat Greek mastorsi yroso and poetry all beforo thom, and imitat them in everything, but approached tuvit moc nearly onl} in elequence and history. Lik Grecss, too, they had carly peetical torical legends, tongs, &o. Lenni i tory of Rome. Cwsar, ozo o! juithed of all great men, wroie his wr ecounts of | vksot be had done, or what related di iy to him- | sot The clearness, purity, and precision of his | t ro a8 characteristic of him as any of hia groat a cnis. : Sailust went more upon Greek modols. veh of | 3 two rema’ histories is an epic whole ; short ced, but complete; fashioned with the greatest | etness, and inspired with a dignity and statoli- yle, which Casar did not eck, and which have been fitting for his personal me- | Livy kad another purpose ; thero is an epic in his great work, though that w utiiated state. J ubject, and he gnori requently, the rigor of ud flowing, some one a His descriptions are there isa nobleness wad gi thi work, well fitted to bie mag- ve purpose in writing it a6 sWhon ho could no longer ta of bis oountry as Li wd dono. Ele a epiri the power of Loseydides a great, vyvight men, dissatisfied with iy tho ascendancy of ¢ other, with th calf cori ble ia F | OL Roman writers, wy naly for Sailust. J admire avy clearneve of style, a8 wy Dae Lis ian history should have given no 2 D t author. 1 did not then | know, or had net then coneidered, that pootical tram amicitiem infesti cunt? an quoquam adire licet, vbi non majcrum mecrum hostilia monumenta plurima tint? aut quisquam nostri misereci potest, qui ulijuando vobis hortis fuit ? Atego infelix, in tanta mala provolpitatus ex patrio mi Luasne injuries perseduar, ipso auxilil ezens; 0 conrulam, cujus vite sque potestas ex opi- klienia pecdet, Uciuain emori fortunis mets honestus et, neu Vivere coutemptus viderer, si, defearus ra lidet, riulis, iujuriey concess' Leque mori licet sine de Vou, per liberos atque ya i Romani, subvertte » ite patirecnum Nu neni familie nostri tabre While | confess wyseli not compstont te sit in judgment on tke greut masters of Roman story, wune neque vii », Ratree conscript, per otet Yestros, per majestatem sero inihi; its obyiam inja- inlaw, per scelus et sangul- lution of circumstuvee, a3 ccc turgidily. I speak t nally tended to with the greatest ivy to me lke the rivers under the influence of cvpious spring freshets, en not only is the main channel fall, but all the ry streams are tending to overflow; while Sallust, | think, takes care only that thero shall be one deep, clear, strong and rapid current to convey him and his thoughts co their destined end. {do not ween to Psy that tho skilful uso of cir- cumstance, either in the bend of 9 historian ora pect, is not a great p I think itis. Whatwo ptiov, is but the presentation of with a discreet accompaniment te of a singls auxiliary thought lace gives @ new glow to the piecure. Particalarity, woll iny attention. In our language, no ood this better than Miltoa poctical images and descriptions are sure to t nothing wkich can make thoso images and those descriptions siviking, distinct, aud certain, while all is industriously repelled. Witness the fall of Lucifer:— from morn To noen be feil, from noon to dewy eva, A evinn;er’s d he seitiog sua Decpt tiem the venith, like a falling stax, Cx Lanner, the geen ile.” His descr ption ef vocal musia in the Allegro is anciber instence of tho same kind :— © And ever sgainst eating cares, Lup me im soit bydian o immortal verse, £ € melting way plerea, In notes, With many a winding beut Of linked sweetness long drawn out, n heed and giddy cuaning, ¢ ycive through mazes ruaning, 14 alt the chaioe that tie den rou! of harmony. ‘That Orpheus’ relf may heave his head Frem golden slumber, on 2 bed Of ben} Etyrion flowers, and hear vo charmed the ear set free ary dice» ig which surpasse: these ond, at the same time, lish, and 60 free ‘The introductior or expression sow historical or pe Or Pinto, to liis balf regained 1 kardly know sny exquisite lines—so poction 60 \ucrovghly and from all foreign idi ‘Lhe fret three etanzna of Gray's Etegy ina Country Church Yard, aro also romarkablo for the power and accuracy with which rural scenery is presented, by grouping together many objects ia one picture Auother poctical instance, of the same horuty, is tho * of Sir John Moore.” There are remarka)!o instances of tho same skill in writing in some of tho English prose writers, and especially in the productions of Dantel De Foo. No boy doubts that everything told of iLobingon Crasoo ie exactly true, kecauro all i so ciroumstantially told; and no mand until he is informed of the contrary, that the rorian of the Plague of London actually enw all that ho described, although De Foe was not born till afterwards. It isa well known eaying, that tho lio with oir- cumstance is exceedingly calealated to deceive, and that is true, and ¢, not only that fietiti 4 boliet by the skil- { truo history, also, interest from the same ub source In general, however, lated with rather a fuch, and such onl, are impo Tho art of hi: al comp to the institutions of po cerpotiems of the ¢ fleuriehed, With orienta liest 4 : yrimevallitere fenec of that t crowded with torionl fasts aro to be ro- i ‘9 regard to ant. ition owes ite origin ma. Under the id tho Indus, poctry xurience, from the ear- ¢ compacs of that rich, history, in tho high 3 of tha Nilo ronumentsand momoriats, the remoteat antiquity; and records @ ecrolis of papyrus, some of mt as the books h Hatin ali o history om; in Greose, tho torical por ween thought it the iid, that the pooms of itten ata poriod so re- omer yande | iy in the co and under the by Solon, had applied to the transactions betwoen the citizens, all 44 resourees of refined logic, auddrawn into the sphere of civil rights and obligations | the power of high forensic ora:ory—it was not until theee results of the legislative wisdom of Solon bad been attained, that the art of history rose and flouriebed in Gre With tho decline of (irecian liberty, tegan the deoline in the art of historical comporlt.on. Histories were written under the kings of Egypt, and along line of Geurished urder the Byzantine emperors; but the high art of historical compe: n, as perfected in the matter works of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Zenophon, had perished in tho death of political freedom. ‘The erigin, progress, and decline of history, ae an art, Were nearly the same in lLome. Sallust and Livy flourished st the close of she republic and the commencement of theempire. The great works of ‘Tacitna bimeeif are thought by many to betray the beginvieg of decline in tho art, and the later writers exhibits its fall. ¢ The art of history again rovived with tho rise of the Italian republics; and vince the revival of lite- rature, at the close of the middle ages, it will pro- hably be found that three things naturally rise into importance together—thet ia to say, oivil liberty, eloquence, and the art of historical writ- ) Suber foundation is not to be laid for authentia Listory than woll antbentioated frots; bat on thia foundation structures y be raised of different charaoteristict—historiea!, biographical, and philo- foph One wriler may contine himself to exact and minute narration; anvther, trae to the general story, may embellish that siory with moro or less of external ornament, or of eloquence in desorip- tion; a third, witha deepor philosophisal spirit, may | look into the causes of events and transactions, trace them with more profound rovrearch to their sources inthe elements of human nature, or consider and eolve with more or loss succens, that most important question—how fartho character of individaals has roduced public events, or how far, on the other and, public events have produced and formed the character of individuals! Therefore one history of the same period in hu- man affairs,no more renders another history of the same period usolees, or unadvisable, than the struc turoof one temple forbids the erection of another, to the rame god, or ono status ef Hercules, Apollo, or Pericles, should suppross all other attempts to produce statues of tho same persons. But, gentlemen. I must not dwell longer on these general topics. Wo are Americans. We haves country all ourown. We are oll linked to its fates and ita fortunes. It is alrondy not without renown. It has been the theatre of some of the most impor- tant of human transactions, aud it may well bocome us to reflect on the topics and the means furnished for historical composition in our own land. | have abstained, on this ocoasion, gentiomen, from mueh comment on the histories composed by European writers of modern times, and, for obvious reasons, | abstain altogethor from remarks upon tho writera of our own country. Works have beon written upon tho history of the United Stetes, other works upon the samo subjoct nre in progrees, and, no doubt, new works are cen- templated, and will be accomplished. It need not be doubted that what has beon achicved by tho great men who have preceded our generation, will bo properly recorded by thoir fuccessors. A country in which highly interesting events occur, is not likely to bo destitute of eoholara and authors, fit to transmit those events to poster- ity. Vor the present, i contont myself with a few general remorks on tho subject. In the history of tho United States thore are three epochs. ‘Ibe firet extends from the origin aod settlement of the color respectively, to year 1774, During this, mach the longest period, thehistory of the country is tne his:ory of separate communities and governments, with different lawa and institutions, though ali were of a common origin—not identical, indecd, though having @ strong family retemblance, and having more or less reference to the constitution aud common law of the parent country. Jn all thee governments, the principle of popular repreaentation more or levs prevailed. It oxisted ia the State goverpmects, in countios, in large dig- tricts,and in townships snd parishes. And it ig rot irrelevant to remark, that, hy the oxercise of tho rights enjoyed under ‘hese popular principles, the whole people came to bo prepared, beyond the exumple of all others, for the observance of the somo principles in the establishment of national ine stitution, and the administration of sovereign powers. ‘Tho « colonies ond period extends from 1774, when these rat acted officiently together, for great po- hie endg, as & confederacy of States, to the year 1789. whon tho present constitution of governmens was established. Tho third embraces the period from 17$9 to the preecat time. ‘Lo avoid dealing with events too recent, it might be well to consider tho third era, or epoch, as ter- mipating with the cloce of President Washington’s administration, and going back into tho seoond so far as to traco the events and ovcurrences which thowed the necessity of a genoral government, dif- fercnt from that framed by tho artislos of confede- tation, which prepared the minds of the people for the adoption of the pregent constitution. Nodoubt the arsembling of tho firet Continental Congress may bo regarded as the era at which the Union of these States commenced. ‘This event took place in Pai- ladoipbia, the city dfetinguished by the groat civil events of our early history, on the Sth of Soptem- ber, 1774, on which day the first Contizental Con- Tess aseembled. Delogates were present from ew Hampshire, Massachusette, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Ponnsylva- nia, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Caro- lina, South Carolina, and Georgia. Let this day be ever remembered! It saw assem- bled from the soveral colonics thdse great men whose names have come down to us and wilidescend to all posterity. ‘Their proocedings ere remarkable for timplioity, dignity, and uncqualied ability. At that day, probably, there could have beenconvened on Lo part of this globo, an equal number of mon pos- ressing greater talents and wbility, or animated by a higher and more patriotic motive. ‘They wore men full of the spirit of the oosasion, imbued deeply with the general sontiment of the country, ot large comprehension, i long foresight, and of few words. They mace no speeches for ostentation, thoy sat with closed doors, ind their groat maxim was ‘*faire <ans dire.” Ibis true, they only wrote; but the issuing of euch writings, oa such authority, andateuch @ orisis, was action—high, decisive, naticnal action. ‘They know the history of the pset, they werealive to Ml tho difficulties and all the duties of tho present, and they acted from tho first asif tho future were ali open before them. Peyton Randolph was unanimously choson Pro- sident ; Charles Thompson was appointed Socre- tary. In such a conateliation, it would be invidious to point out the bright particular stars. Let mo only say, what none can contidor injustice to others, that George Washington was one of th The proceedings of the aszombly wer by religious observances, and devout s cations tothe Ibrono of Graco for tho inspiration of wis- dom and the spirit of good counsels On the second day of the agesion it was ordered that a committee should be appointed to alata the rights of the colonies, the instances in which those rights had been violated, and tho means proper to be pureucd for thoir restoration, and another com- mittce to examine and repert upen the several eta- tutes of the English Parliament which had beon parsed, affecting tho trady and manufactures of the colonics. The mombers of these committees were chosen on the following day. Immediately after- warde Congress took up, as tho /undation of their proceedings, cortain rogolations adopted, jast beforo a time < their bape by delegates from owns in tho oounty of Suifulk, aud especially the town of Boston. (i , hed ope Boston, the early victim of the infliction of wron; by the mother country, the early champion o' Ame w liberty--Boston, though in this vast méte, that tho ear ns, songs, accounts of personal ad- coef Lercules and Jason, were, in cariior than regular historical informs us that Homer lived dred yesrs before his timo. writings, by four hu Thero iz, neveriheless, fumething very wonderful in tho 7 ems of How i tal, it is true of the lan- | gunges of ut, in thoir carliest agee, they contain th bono and sinew characteris: | tic of thei fect, and without polis li but it is what w not the sinvothners anc of Pope and Addison. bot, though ric! cision and ace would seem tha read, anda gr before the lan, polish a3 nd p ago shou at they are rongh, imper- ‘Thus Chaucer wrote ting call old 1 b, and it hes gto thestyle | t tmavy books must be y t man) id pers ashes its bighest ow, the wonder is, howa eo perfect as was the when that Jauguago written. Doubtless, in eo of the Greek tongue 20 hee cotion. ithe language y centuries by a | cople of gient 1 extraordinary goed ste, bur bad culcivaied by the re- cua great variety n of Solon had laid | | tation © Pp uticos, and there instirutions had unfolde dd powerful, and active } col iife, inthe Athenian ropublic ; ) the diseur on ec pubic affairs ia the Senate i the poptlar Arsesnbly \ created deliberative romeo, amd (he open oda inistration of justice | vpon her all ite indig | 2ens of b try #ho may be now surpssted by other citiez, mbers, in commerce and wealsh, yet she can- © urgssied in the renown of her early revolu- tiorery bistor, Sho will stand sckaowledged, who the world doth stand, as the origin and orna- uh, promoter and d coder, ofthe rights ef the frowned upon her adign ; it only made her +ftind put ons face of greater Tho Perliament poured tio It only held her up with greater illumination, and drew towards her the greator attachment and voncration of the country. boston, ar ebe was in heart, in priaciple, and feel- ing, in 1774, so may she remuia till her shroo hills shail sink into the sea, aud be uo more remombered among wen. Centlemen, those carly proceedings of the citi- n, and othor inhabitants of the county of Suffolle, desorve to be written where all posterity may read them. They wore carried to the repre- eentativo of royalty, by the first distinguished martyr in the causa of liberty, Joreph Warren. tL t that he who was not long afterwards to fall defence ef tho liberty of nis country, and to is love of that count b his blood, full of nd i uld be the boarer of notre epresentative of <i iegland. ~ gland. nimin, NO {which havo tho poy Ad honor to bo a citizen, din tho umaoi- n Congres, of those words :— ‘ova the opposition xeoution of the late shall be attempted to execution by foree, in such case all fupport them in their opposition.” ¢ erect boldrees and cefiance eqcor een! olution of the f of Ootober, 177 clved That this Con, he S husetta Imy to be i America ovght to Gentler en, I will not believe that theanciont com- mcawerlth of Massachazetts can ever depart from her true char I think it impossible. But thould she be left to forgetfuln herself, and all that belongs to her, should sho porarily or permaxently stray away from the of hor an- cient patriotism—should she, which heaven avert, bo willing to throw off hor original and all-Aneri-