\j / PROCEEDINGS DEDICATION TOWN HALL, WAYLAND i December 24, 1878 WITH BRIEF HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF PUBLIC BUILDINGS AND LIBRARIES WAYLAND PREPARED AxVD PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE TOWN M D C C C L X X I X PROCEEDINGS DEDICATION TOWN HALL, WAYLAND December 24, 1878 WITH BRIEF HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF PUBLIC BUILDINGS AND LIBRARIES WAYLAND PREPARED AND PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE TOWN MDCCCLXXIX \ k » Woodward & Lothrop ^ Mareli 21 1901. ORDER OF EXERCISES. The Order of Exercises at the Dedication was as follows: — MUSIC. CocHiTUATE Brass Band. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. Jas. S. Draper, Esq., President of the Day. VOCAL MUSIC. By a Sei.ect Choir. Delivery of the Keys, by H. B. Braman, Esq., Chairman of Building Committee ; Reception of the Same, by Dr. C. H. Boodey, Chairman of the Board of Selectmen. MUSIC. By the Band. DEDICATORY PRAYER. Rev. E. L. Chase. VOCAL MUSIC. ADDRESS. Elbridge Smith, Esq., Principal of Dorchester High School, a native of Wayland. SINGING. Old Hundred, by the Audience. BENEDICTION. Rev. T. A. Merrill. EXERCISES. At the appointed hour for the dedicatory services the seats of the spacious hall were tilled with citizens of Wayland and others interested in the occasion. On the platform were seated some of the more ven- erable gentlemen of the town, prominent among whom was the Rev. John B. Wight, whose silvery hairs and benign countenance entitled him to peculiar respect. Select music having been performed by the band, the opening address was then delivered by James S. Draper, Esq. Fellozv-citizens of Wayland ; Ladies and Gentlemen : — The occasion which brings us together so pleasantly to-day has no slight significance in the affairs of this town. The erec- tion of this building, and the construction of the Cochituate Water Works, — begun and carried on with an unusual degree of unanimity in the pubhc voice, — will mark the year 1878 as one of the most important in its history ; while the events them- selves will stand conspicuous on its annals. The one, providing a good supply of pure water, — so suggestive of health, con- venience, the protection of property, and of general pros- perity;— and the other, with its suite of rooms for town officers, its ample apartments for the Public Library, and this capacious hall for public meetings, — with their several arrangements for convenience, their beauty of design and thoroughness of finish, — must both be classed, not as ephemeral, fanciful results, but as important, substantial, permanent public works. Expenditures for such projects may startle the conservative elements, and evoke words of denunciation at their alleged extravagance. But, from another point of view, may it not be asked. Is Wayland doing anything more than keeping her proper place in the grand movements of the hour? Is she not acting in compliance with the principles of universal law, by which all higher civilization is reached, all nobler destiny wrought out? To attempt no improvement is equivalent to going backward. To have no aspirations for something higher and better, to be entirely content with present attainments, indicates the near approach to a condition more to be dreaded than death. The individual or the community that fails to seize every golden opportunity to advance personal or social interests, is false to a trust delegated by an authority higher than human. Under pressure of such considerations as these, what intense activity prevails at the present time in all departments of human knowledge and pursuit ! With what startling rapidity the Old is supplanted by the New ! Where are the implements and tools indispensable to the mechanic and farmer only a few years ago? Laid aside for the better ones of to-day. Where are hosts of utensils for household use that were once the pride of the good housewife? Preserved in her attic as relics ; she has something better for daily use. Where are civil governments and social customs once venerated for their long line of descent or their supposed divine origin? Retired or retiring before the majestic march of enfranchised man. Ask that venerable person, surnamed Theology, why he so often feels obliged to restate his old dogmas, — to remodel his dress, so to speak, — and, if he tells the truth, his reply will be, "To keep up with the present advanced style of thought, and make a respectable appearance in modern society." The daily press of to-morrow will announce projects, discov- eries, inventions, that seem among the impossibilities of to-day. A distinguished journalist declared a few weeks ago that more than a thousand men were at work perfecting the new processes for producing artificial light. And since the comparatively modern way of lighting this halP was contracted for by our ex- cellent Building Committee (whose fidelity to their trust be- speaks our gratitude), the active brains of scientific and inven- tive genius have so far completed new plans as to announce the fact that all the brilliant effects of the electric light can be pro- duced by incandescence only, without the consumption of a particle of charcoal.^ An almost costless illumination. Verily, we may almost say this gas is an antiquated affair, and must be consigned to the kitchen to cook our breakfast with until Nature's storehouse is rummaged for something better. But, to return to sober earnestness, the Great Deific Mind seems to be unlocking the chambers of his treasure-house, and inviting, yes. urging, his intelligent offspring to examine his hitherto secret methods, whereby this grand Cosmos has been evolved from universal chaos. And to observe how the same all-contriving mind and all-executing hand are, even now, in the full tension of their activity. At no former time has the human mind reached such sublime ' Aerated gas from gasoline. ^ By using the charcoal pencils in hermetically sealed vessels filled with pure nitrogen gas. heights of knowledge. At no period have its future destinies been so fully unfolded, and the paths by which those destinies may be reached been so clearly defined. And yet no limit can be fixed, no barrier erected to prevent (scarcely to check, even) the upward and onward course of human thought and human power. If, three centuries ago, a Copernicus received a heretic's doom for disclosing the true movements of half a dozen planets, what should be the fate of the scientists of our day, whose vision pierces to the very " soul of things," and before whom the mighty agencies of the uncounted ages, so utterly inscrutable to the past, now are seen to move in all the harmony of a Divine order? Our duty, then, seems plain. IVe must accept the New inevi- tably, if progression and not retrogression be our motto. Accept it with the grumbling protest of the conservative, if that is our highest ideal of propriety, — or with the cheerful gratitude of the pioneer, as we may and ought. Standing ever ready to say farewell to the once fondly cherished, while with equal readiness we welcome the better conditions of the ever freshly opening future. In this spirit, we this day pass from the Old to the New, — hopefully,, trustfully, joyously. These walls, planned by archi- tectural science, and now fresh from the skilled hands of artist and artisan, will be our teachers in aesthetic culture. Their purity and harmony will rebuke all vulgar-voiced expression ; and even the floor we tread upon will invite to cleanliness and utter its protest against some habits for the indulgence of . which humanity should blush for very shame. Looking back from the position we now occupy to the " Old Hall " across the street, — to its predecessor over the " Green Store," — to the " Old Meeting-house," that did double service beneath the tall sycamore, and to its predecessors in the " Old Burying-ground," where stood the primitive structure for public use, with its walls of logs and roof of thatch, — all of which served well their day, and are to be remembered with feelings of veneration, for they were the lower leaves of that archi- tectural plant now expanded and flowering in more stately dimensions of beauty above us, — we see what progress has been made during the two centuries and over of our municipal life. Is there now a citizen of Wayland who would willingly return to any of these former conditions? Any who would retrace even by a single step the path by which the present has been reached ? If any such anomaly may be found, it may possibly be accounted for on the ground that a very few minds, for- tunately or unfortunately, seem to reach an iiltinia tJiule — a point of " thus far shalt thou go and no farther ; " — in fact, they exhibit some pretty, clearly defined symptoms of being on the verge of fossilization. One of the latest writers on our National Government has said: "The good order of society; the protection of our lives and our property; the promotion of religion and learning; the enforcement of statutes, or the upholding of the unwritten laws of just moral restraints, — mainly depend on the wisdom of the inhabitants of townships. Our town officers are, in the aggregate, of more importance than our Congressmen."^ Ac- cepting these sentiments, may we not add, that in providing this structure, where free deliberation, discussion, and action will be accorded to every citizen voter, and from whose apartments specially appropriated to our Free Public Library will flow, as from a perennial fountain, streams of refreshing literature to gladden, instruct, and elevate the individual mem- ' H. Seymour, LL.D., in " North American Review" for Sept. — Oct., 1878. lO bers of all our homes, — we have contributed something towards attaining in a higher degree the results enumerated as lying at the basis, not only of our municipal but of our national prosperity. The speed of the fleeting years, seemingly accelerated as life advances, admonishes us that our works of to-day, whether wisely or unwisely planned, — whether successfully or unsuc- cessfully carried out, — must soon be transmitted to posterity. In doing this, as one by one we are relieved from duty at these outposts of life for nobler service elsewhere, may we not truly, and with a just sense of pride, say of this edifice, We leave an in- heritance for others worthy of the public spirit of our times. After vocal music by a select choir, H. B. Braman, Esq., accompanied the delivery of the keys by the fol- lowing address and statements : — Mr. President and Fellow-citizens: — As Chairman of the Building Committee it devolves upon me at the present time to submit to you a brief statement of our doings. We received our appointment in Town Meeting Oct. 5, 1877, when it was " Voted, That H. B. Braman, Horace Heard, R. T. Lombard, Thos. J. Damon, and Alfred H. Bry- ant, be a committee with full powers to contract for and super- intend the erection of a Town House in the central part of the town, suitable for Town Meetings, Town Officers, and the Pub- lic Library, at an expense not exceeding ten thousand dollars, to dispose of the present Town House, purchase land, if necessary, and obtain plans and specifications." In compliance with the foregoing instructions, the committee invited competitions of architects and received drawings from fourteen well-known artists. II After a careful examination of the different plans submitted, the one made by Mr. Geo. F. Fuller, of Boston, was adopted by the committee. As soon as drawings and specifications were prepared by the architect, they were submitted to contractors ; and twenty- three proposals were received from responsible parties, varying in amount from eleven thousand to sixteen thousand five hundred dollars. Mr. Wm. B. Stinson, of Maiden, being the lowest, the contract was awarded to him, with a few changes in the plans, for the sum of nine thousand seven hundred dollars. The building was commenced early in the month of May, and completed and accepted on the 26th day of October. We have had a constant supervision from its commencement until its completion, and have no hesitation in saying that the con- struction has been most thorough and complete. In the course of erection, very few changes were found necessary ; the only extra expense incurred amounts to seven dollars, making the whole cost of construction, including the architect's commission, ten thousand and thirty-five dollars. The contractor, Mr. Wm. B. Stinson, has fulfilled his contract in a faithful and honorable manner, according to the plans and specifications. We bear cheerful testimony to his ability and fidelity, and heartily commend him to any in want of his services. We feel that much credit is due to the architect, Mr. Geo. F. Fuller, for the tasteful design and for the very careful preparation of drawings and specifications, thereby enabling the committee to complete the structure without any material alterations of the original plans. The fact that but a few dollars extra expense has been incurred by the committee in the con- struction of this beautiful edifice, is chiefly due to the forethought and skill of the architect. 12 Mr. Chairman of the Board of Selectmen: — This building, having been completed and accepted by the Building Commit- tee, in their behalf I present to you these keys. The care and responsibility which has rested upon us will now devolve upon you. We have endeavored to carry out the vote of the Town, and feel confident that we have, this day, surrendered to you, the representative of the Town, " a building suitable for Town meetings, Town officers, and the Public Library," — a structure ornamental to our village, and well adapted to the present and prospective wants of the whole community. Dr. C. H. BooDEY, on receiving the keys, replied as follows: — Mr. Chairman, and Gentlemen of the Building Committee : ^— It is with pleasure that I am permitted to thank you for the interest, the good taste, and the sound judgment which you have manifested in selecting and adopting plans for this building, resulting in such convenience of arrangement, and so much artistic beauty; and also for your faithful superintendence of its. construction. You may be assured that these valuable services are appre- ciated by the inhabitants of this town, who are ready this day to congratulate you on the successful completion of your labors. In their name and behalf I accept these keys, trusting, as the edifice now passes into the custody of the public, that it will ever be held sacred for all proper uses, and especially for the free exercise of the Elective Franchise, — that sovereign right by which the enjoyment of all other rights of citizenship is assured. Fellow-citizens, let it ever be regarded as our privilege, as it will be our duty, so to use this building that our every act within its walls may adorn our individual lives as its architect- ural appearance beautifies this village. ^3 Following a performance by the band, Rev. E. S. Chase offered the Dedicatory Prayer. After a selection by the choir, the Dedicatory Address was delivered, as follows : — DEDICATORY ADDRESS By Elbridge Smith, Esq., A.M. Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: — The occasion which calls us together prescribes to me the subject of my address ; and that subject is so broad and invit- ing, that I shall waste no words in apology or introduction. I was, I confess, inclined to criticise your choice of a speaker for this occasion ; but I concluded that if you had erred in your selection, I had more inexcusably erred in my acceptance ; and that it ill became me to question the correctness of a judg- ment which I had the best possible means of correcting. Many a friend of my boyhood would have brought you a clearer head, but none, I maintain, would have brought you a warmer heart. You have come, I trust, in the full exercise of that charity that suffereth long and is kind, and will excuse a freer use of the first personal pronoun than the canons of a strict criticism would sanction. Those of you whose privilege it has been to live from child- hood to manhood, and even to old age, amid the scenery of this dear old town, little understand, I imagine, the fond enthusiasm that swells in the breasts of those who return to these scenes ■of their childhood from other and distant fields of toil and ■duty. On the eve of your first centennial, ninety-nine years since your separate corporate existence began, you throw open for public convenience these ample apartments. It is well that you H signalize this event by a formal act of dedication. The event will mark an era in your social and civil history. It means that the town has outgrown its previous accommodations, and that its municipal, intellectual, and social life has taken a wider range. It is not often the case that the outward marks of prog- ress for a century can be so distinctly traced as can now be done in this beautiful country village. At the beginning of your cor- porate life, and for nearly forty years afterwards, our fathers felt no need of a town-house save what they found in their meeting- house. Their religious, military, and civil life was so blended that they felt no incongruity in voting their taxes, laying out their highways, marshalling their trainbands, and, in fact, order- ing their whole secular life where they met to worship God. The meeting-house was the armory and the magazine, not only of their spiritual but of their temporal warfare. The exhorta- tion of the great Cromwell, "Trust in the Lord and keep your powder dry," sunk deep into the Puritan heart. The Puritan churches were literally as well as figuratively militant. The meeting-house of a hundred years ago, in which the first town-meetings of East Sudbury were held, still stands in a modi- fied form beside its more imposing successor. When the present meeting-house of the first parish was built, it was rightly judged too nice for the stirring and sometimes tumultuous scenes which characterized the town-meeting. The old meeting-house was transformed into the town-hall, which, for twenty-five years, was found sufficient for the varied municipal, secular, and social wants of the town. The town-hall, however, had a pretty active rival on the opposite side of the brook. The tavern-hall had certain conveniences and attractions which the town-hall could not boast; and the successive landlords had little hesitation, and suffered no loss, in showing a generous hospitality to the lyceum, to the dancing-school, to the private grammar-school, the sci- entific or popular lecture, and sometimes to the justice court. 15 Meanwhile, the centre school-house had served nearly two gen- erations, and was beginning to feel the infirmities of age. A new school-house must be built, and the occasion was a favor- able one for the erection of a larger building, which should at once accommodate the district and the town. And there was soon made provision for a public library which was destined to achieve so honorable a distinction as to give the free public library to the State, and become a great example to the nation. It would be most grateful to my own feelings to pause here and notice at some length the events and the characters with which these structures are associated, and give utterance to the thoughts which they suggest to the mind. I would gladly dwell upon the old meeting-house, — the meeting-house of the revolution, — which I never saw in its primitive form, but which I so thoroughly learned by tradition that I feel scarcely less acquainted with it than with that to which I was led to worship in my childhood. Built by loyal subjects of the house of Hanover, in its devotions were often heard supplications for the success of our colonial arms at Louisburg and in the West Indies, on the St. Lawrence, on the Ohio, at Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, and devout thanks- givings for victories at Dettingen, at Cape Breton, at Minden, at Quebec, at Saratoga, and Yorktown. Its pulpit did its full share in training its congregation for the almost ceaseless conflicts with the mother country, through which the colonies passed during the last century. Fain would I notice the long pastorate of the Rev. Josiah Bridge, whose descendants in the last generation were so conspicuous in your social and civil life. Born in Lexington, and trained, in his youth, under the ministries of the Revs. John Hancock and Jonas Clarke, with two of his near kinsmen in Capt. Parker's company, we may well suppose that the east parish of Sudbury heard no uncertain sound from their spiritual watchman when the sword came on the land in i6 the earlier years of his ministry. I would glance at the much briefer ministry of the Rev. Joel Foster, in a period of even greater bitterness in political controversy and of scarcely less moment in our national history. I would gladly follow the old meeting-house across the brook, after it had resigned the care of the church, which it sheltered for almost a century, there still to show its fondness for the town. Its stout timbers of sturdy oak, so thoroughly seasoned by the stern Calvinism of the Rev. Israel Loring, and the milder theology of the Rev. William Cooke, by discussions on the Stamp Act and the Boston Port Bill, would take no alarm from the vociferous debates on questions of local policy ; and it was in no spirit of jealousy or schism that it welcomed back some portion of its former spiritual charge, and felt its young life renewed by the eloquence of that son of thunder, Lyman Beecher. I would gladly venture, with reverent steps, upon still more sacred ground, and recall scenes still fresh in the memories of some who hear me. I would take you with me upon some summer Sabbath morning to the first parish meeting-house, then in the freshness and beauty of its youth ; and, after a long walk beneath the burning sun, we would pause for a moment in the delicious shade of its northern front, and climb the iron balustrade to enjoy the cool north-western breeze until the pastor should arrive. From the farm, the street, the plain, the Concord and the South roads, the devout worshippers are rapidly assem- bling. The horses come up the gentle slope at a smart trot, and after discharging their precious freight, the matrons and maidens of the parish, retire silently across the beautiful green carpet to the sheds in the rear. The leading men of the town exchange their cordial weekly greetings in the porch or on the steps ; the silver tones of the tolling bell, mingling with the radiance and stillness of the hour, diffuse a pleasing serenity over the scene, and raise the soul to that rapture of emotion — that divinest 17 melancholy of which Milton speaks — and though not the essence of worship, is its essential preparative. I would point you to the loved and loving pastor, then in the prime of his virtuous manhood (whose gray hairs and venerable form on the verge of fourscore and ten are our pride and delight here to-day), entering the meeting-house with that benignity and courtesy which were in themselves an educating force. I would have you see him pass up the broad aisle and climb the long winding pulpit stairs, robed in that surplice of flowing silk in which the ladies of the town had clothed the pastor that they loved. I would have you listen with the ears of childhood to the invocation, to tiie reading of the Ninteenth Psalm in the good old Saxon of King James, and to the singing of the same in the metrical version of Dr. Watts : " The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech and night unto night showeth knowl- edge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. The law of the Lord is perfect converting the soul ; the testimony of the Lord is sure making wise the simple. Who can understand his errors, cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my strength and my Redeemer." Behold, the morning sun Begins his glorious way; His beams through all the nations run And life and light convey. But where the Gospel comes It spreads diviner light; It calls dead sinners from their tombs And gives the blind their sight. i8 My gracious God, how plain Are thy directions given ! Oh, may I never read in vain. But find the path to heaven. I have attended, not without interest, the imposing service of vast cathedrals, in which were combined all the influences that attract the eye or charm the ear. I have heard the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced choir below In service high and anthems clear. I have seen ecclesiastical dignitaries arrayed in all the splen- dors of sacerdotal power ; but in the simple, sincere, and artless worship of yonder meeting-house there was an impressiveness and a sanctity which conflicting creeds and scholastic dogmas have never been able to eff'ace. And so, with Mr. Emerson, I love the venerable house Our fathers built to God. There holy thoughts a light have shed From many a radiant face, And prayers of tender hope have spread A perfume through the place. From humble tenements around Came up the pensive train And in the church a blessing found That filled their homes again. They dwell with God, their homes are dust, But there their children pray, And in this fleeting lifetime trust To find the narrow way. I would take you to the Lyceum of forty years ago ; but you must pause a moment ere you cross the threshold, and lay aside all your sectarian robes and theological phylacteries ; neither Unitarian nor Trinitarian nor Baptist nor Methodist can enter here. You must go as the conflicting states of ancient Greece 19 went up to their Olympia, under strict bonds of religious and political neutrality. You should listen to the lectures, and de- bates, and the essays, and learn that the Lyceum of to-day, with its intinerant lecturer with his pompous rhetoric and sensational eloquence, is far inferior, as an educator, to the original Lyceum as it came from the pure mind and heart of Josiah Holbrook, and in which were trained so many effective speakers and de- baters, in which so many mature minds gained broader views, and so many young minds first felt the thirst for knowledge. It was in the Lyceum of the adjoining town that a young shoe- maker began a career that ended in the Vice-Presidency of the United States. I would take you into the district school-houses, those brick martello towers which used to dot our cross-roads and hillsides. You should there see the barefooted infantry just beginning to learn How hard it is to climb the steep Where Fame's proud temple shines afar. Those little urchins and bright-eyed misses look as shy and wary as the young partridges in the neighboring thickets. But when they take the floor you shall see no skulking nor timidity. In the flash of their eyes, the smile of their countenances, and the clear ring of their voices, sending forth their words like pistol-shots, you would find a promise to be realized in all the fair fields of manly and womanly achievement. That boy at the head, with a ten-cent piece hung from his neck, is the intel- lectual bellwether of the class. In a few years you will be very likely to see him at the Cambridge Commencement, in his Ox- ford cap and gown, delivering the valedictory or salutatory. I would by all means have you there on committee day. You. would find that the school-house had been most thoroughly 20 swept, washed, and garnished the preceding evening from turret to foundation-stone. Plentiful supplies of pine, hemlock, and evergreen have been plundered from the adjoining woods. Any want of taste in the arrangement is more than compensated by the abundance of the supply of the raw material. The teacher's work is light to-day. Sometime before the regular hour, all the scholars, in their best attire, are in their seats; the parents have gathered and filled all the vacant space, and all is hushed awaiting a crisis. Those scholars in District No. 4 are resolved not to be outdone in conduct or scholarship by those of Nos. i, 2, 3, 5, or 6. That girl who sits near the window, and can com- mand a view of the road, is the sentinel of the occasion. She is very studious, but she will do what girls so well know how to do, — she will keep watch of the road. At last her countenance proclaims by a gentle flush and a glance of the eye that the committee have arrived. In a moment a rap is heard at the door. The master opens it, and the scholars all arise and remain standing until the committee are seated. In a moment the grand review begins in the old Roman fashion, with the skirmishing of the light troops — the a-b-c-darians ; and then the classes pro- ceed in long array from the alphabet to Blair's Rhetoric, from the multiplication table to the profound mysteries of single and double position, from the punctuation to the canons of Aristotle ; from the a-b abs to the concert spelling of the long sesquipeda lian words ; from the primer to the tale of Troy divine ; from the calling of Abraham to the Declaration of Independence, until the committee, wearied and amazed that so small heads can carry so much knowledge, kindly remark, " That is sufficient." Clatidite jam vivos, piieri ; sat prata biberwit. Meanwhile, the writing-books and manuscripts are passed round for examination ; specimens of map-drawing are exhibited, 21 and some samplers display the skill of cunning fingers and record the family history. The evening shadows have become too deep for continued work, and in the dim religious twilight you may listen for a moment to words of wisdom, warning, and encour- agement from lips of gentleness and grace, and the scene will close with prayer from one whose reverent demeanor and con- sistent life will give double sway to his utterance. I would most gladly continue to trace these threads of thrill- ing, sad, humorous, and pleasing reminiscence. I would trace them to the riverside and to the fireside, to hill and valley, to field and grove, to streamlet and stream ; but the occasion demands a more serious word and more directly suited to the time and place. Why has this building been reared? Why, in times called hard, have you esteemed this structure not a luxury, not a con- venience merely, but a necessity? What is its real civil and political significance? It has been built by no party; it is appropriated to no sect. The man who pays only his poll-tax owns as much of this building as your wealthiest citizen. Such a building is hardly required out of New England. Had you a fine old feudal castle with its towers and battlements, its hall and bower, its moat and drawbridge, upon the top of Reeves's hill, you would never have needed this town-house, or I should rather say you might never have felt its need. Had our fathers maintained their loyalty to his most gracious maj- esty beyond the sea, we might even now be sharing with our Canadian brethren all the honors that flow from the presence of a royal princess. Had they Been willing to give up their town-meeting, and drop all meddling with questions of State policy, you would never have been inclined to add this orna- ment to your village. But they had a very profound impres- sion that they knew their own business best, and that no one 22 should do for them what they could do for themselves. You have and need a town-house, then, for the very simple reason that you are in the habit of holding town-meetings. We are but just beginning to learn the greatness of a town government. It was a great French publicist, who came among us more than forty years ago, and taught us the real significance and greatness of the town organization and the town-meeting. Whence came the New England' town? What Lycurgus or Solon, what Bacon or Locke, what seven wise men, what con- clave or synod, laid down the laws which have so completely harmonized conflicting interests and welded into one glowing and fervid body politic the secular and religious forces which have so often sundered states and empires? The New England town-meeting was a growth, not a creation. No lawgiver devised and balanced its framework. Its several elements appeared as the occasion demanded. Its executive feature — the Board of Selectmen — may be clearly traced to its source in the meeting of the freeholders of Dorchester on the eighth of Oct., 1633. "It is ordered that for the general good and well ordering of the affairs of the plantation, there shall be every Monday before the Court, by 8 o'clock A.M., and presently by the beating of the drum, a general meeting of the inhabitants of the plantation at the meeting-house, there to settle and set down such orders as may tend to the general good as aforesaid, and every man to be bound thereby without gainsaying or resist- ance. It is also agreed that there shall be twelve men selected out of the company, that may, or the greatest part of them, meet as aforesaid to determine as aforesaid ; yet so far as it is desired that the most of the plantation will keep the meeting constantly, and all that are there, though not of the twelve, shall have a free voice as any of the twelve, and that the greater vote, both of the twelve and the other, shall be of force 23 and efficacy as aforesaid. And it is likewise ordered, that all things concluded as aforesaid shall stand in force and be obeyed until the next monthly meeting, and afterwards if it be not con- tradicted and otherwise ordered at said monthly meeting by the greatest vote of those that are present as aforesaid." This vote, but a temporary arrangement at the time, was adopted the next year by Watertown, and in the year following by Charlestown. It was little thought by the earnest freemen of that meeting that they had founded a prime feature in a civil institution which, at the distance of two centuries and a quarter, should guide the destinies of nearly fifteen hundred municipal- ities in New England, and, in a modified form, should have carried civilization across the continent. This form of town government, little different from what we see to-day, was approved and per- fected by the General Court in 1636, and soon extended to the other colonies, — Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven, — and in ten years, at the time of the formation of the New England Confederacy, there were forty-nine distinct townships. Think for a moment upon their relative importance to the world's progress and civilization, or, as our Darwinian friends would say, consider their environment. It was an important era in the history of this town. It was the year in which John Rutter built your first meeting- house for six pounds (and his name is a guarantee that he did the work well ; and it seems worthy of mention that it was, as I suppose, a descendant of his — Gen. Micah Maynard Rutter — who was chairman of the committee who built the last church built by the town). It was the year in which Louis XIV. came to the throne of France, and began the longest reign in European history ; it was the year in which the French began to colonize South America ; it was the year in which Conde won the battle of Rocroi ; it was the year in which these 24 settlers in Sudbury were saddened by the news of the deaths of Hampden and Pym. (They probably did not hear that a cousin of Hampden's was enlisting and drilling a regiment of horse ; they will hear of them the next year at Marston Moor, and the year following at Naseby.) Charles I. was fighting his parliament; Germany was in the last agonies of the thirty years' war; Lutheran, Calvinist, and Romanist will soon agree at Westphalia to live and let live in matters of conscience. Galileo has just died ; Isaac Newton is one year old ; Descartes is busy with his vortices and analysis ; Kepler will soon lay down the laws of planetary motion. These are some of the salient points in the political, religious, and scientific worlds. Absolut- ism is in the ascendant, and democracy, shielded by three thou- sand miles of ocean, unnoticed and scarcely known, is learning to debate civil and religious questions freely, to respect the will of the majority in town-meeting, to bow reverently to the verdict of a jury and the decisions of a magistrate. These settlers in Sudbury, occupying one of the outposts of civ- ilized life, gazed westward across their little Mississippi (in whose spring-tide they saw no unworthy compeer of the Great Father of Waters) upon a continent vast, unexplored, and uncultivated, the home of savage beasts and of more savage men. Its in- land seas had been unvisited ; its rivers flowed in unappreciated beauty and magnificence to distant and undiscovered oceans ; its continuous woods, Where rolled the Oregon, and heard no sound Save his own dashings, waved over solemn and awful solitudes ; its boundless prairies were deepening their dark rich mould and affording a paradise for the buffalo and the antelope ; its cataracts, its Niagaras and Yosemites, wasted their thunders on the desert air. It is true 25 that the great valley had been the abode of something like a civilization, but its Cyclopean remains, stretching from the lakes to the isthmus, undiscovered then, even now serve rather to deepen and intensify the mysteries which enshroud a country where man has been, but has ceased to be, than to bring it within the range of human sympathies, associations, and tradi- tions. The wilderness immediately around them was filled with real and imaginary horrors. Both the flora and the fauna were new and strange. The esculent vegetation was unknown or but sparingly and suspiciously tasted. The river and its numerous tributaries furnished many a delicious meal to appetites that had been strengthened by toil and sharpened by scarcity. The woods, with their stout growth of timber, oak, pine, and hemlock, and the thickets, sometimes almost impenetrable, were peopled by reptiles more dreaded than the wolf and the wildcat. When we contemplate these colonists in their log-huts, cut off from all communication with the old abodes of civilization, just fringing the eastern coastline of this vast continent, our feelings vibrate between admiration and pity. It is hard to see how any theory of " natural election," or "survival of the fittest," or " power without us tending to righteousness," can satisfy all the conditions of the problem. We rise instinctively above the range of second causes and natural laws, and find repose only in the sublime faith which filled and fired their souls. We leave them for a few moments with their Bible, their meeting-house, and their town-meeting. Turn now to the very focus and centre of the world's culture, wealth, and power. In the year 1643, as I have already stated, the very year in which the forty-nine hamlets in New England had united in a common league against the wilderness and its savage tenants, Louis XIV. ascended the throne of France. 26 That throne was reared upon trophies which had been accumu- latyig during sixteen centuries. JuHus Csesar, Clovis, Charles Martel, Charlemagne, had each in his turn contributed to its strength. Overrun by the Roman legions, France received language, laws, and institutions from her conquerors, and early took her place at the head of the march of European civiliza- tion. She led the van in the Holy War, which, for more than two centuries, enlisted the enterprise and the fanaticism of Eu- rope for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, and she received in return her full share of the benefits and the curses re- sulting from those expeditions. The genius of Richelieu had contrived, that, while Spain, Germany, and Holland had been prostrated by thirty years of war, France should derive all the real advantages resulting from the conflict. It is not, however, to coincidence of time merely, but rather to the absolute contrast in civil and political procedure, — the im- posing array of rank, power, and precedent on the one side, and the utter absence of them on the other, — to which I desire to direct your attention. It is from these positive and negative theories of government, as illustrated in French and American history, — the theory of absolute monarchy and of absolute democracy, — that I think we may gather instruction suited to this time and place. Louis XIV. announced his theory of gov- ernment in that celebrated saying, which has passed into proverb, " I AM THE State." And for a time that concise theory seemed triumphantly successful. Europe had never seen such display. The proconsuls and Caesars in their three hundred triuriiphs, their arches and their amphitheatres, had far less of real grandeur than was seen in the magnificence of Versailles, Marly, and Paris. In all the great departments of human action, in the arts of peace or war, in literature, in science, — everything that can fire the imagination or please the fancy, — the court of the 2-7 grand monarch attained a distinction that awakened no less alarm than admiration. Vauban carried the science of attack and defence to the highest perfection — reared or repaired three hundred citadels* directed fifty-three sieges, and was present in one hundred and forty-three battles. In the Cabinet there were names of equaj distinction. In the Church, Massillon, Bourdaloue, and Bossuet reached the summit of pulpit eloquence, while Fenelon eclipsed them all, not indeed in the finish and force of his periods, but in that higher eloquence of life and power of character which made Louis, as centuries before it had made Felix, tremble. Cassini and Pascal taught science ; Perrault built the Louvre; Mansard gave new architectural glories to Paris ; Lebrun and Poissin painted ; Racine and Corneille wrote tragedy, and Moliere com- edy. Nor w^as the ambition of Louis confined to the Old World- The time was when his rule seemed as firmly established from the mouth of the St. Lawrence, along the lakes and down the valley to the mouth of the Mississippi, as from the Seine to the Loire. For some years the Mississippi bore the name Colbert, in honor of his great minister, and Louisiana still retains the name which Lasalle gave it to express his loyalty to his sover- eign ; and the patron saint of France has given name to that great city whose geographical position seems to mark it for the future capital of the nation. " The heir of all ages foremost in the files of time," there stood Old France, threatening the liberties of Europe, conquering by her arms or corrupting by her gold. New France, or France in America, held by unquestioned claims territories equal to all Europe, — territories extending from tropical heat to polar cold. Spain and Portugal divided between them the rest of the conti- nent, with the exception of the coastline occupied by colonies from England. As Spain, France, and Portugal were foremost 28 in the work of discovery, so were they also in attempts at the work of colonization. Old Europe was thus to be transferred to the New World. Castilian pride and French culture with feudal notions of government, English pluck and manhood, in its Puritan form, were placed upon this great theatre to struggle for its mastery under their respective forms of civil and religious polity. New Spain wa? organized indolence ; New France was a modified feudalism ; and New England was organized industry, thrift, and enterprise. Which shall win the continent? The New England, to all outward appearance, is greatly sur- passed by the new^ France and the new Spain. She has left her loved island-home with no parental blessing, but v/ith the foul stain of non-conformity in religion and disloyalty in politics. She occupies byt a strip of territory, but she starts with the TOWN-MEETING. With no abstract theories of government, and no great affection for dynasties or nobilities, these sturdy Britons legislated for each emergency as it arose. All questions of boundary, of equity, taxation, religion, and magistracy were dis- cussed and settled by the whole body of freemen. When the labor became too great, and the meetings too frequent, and, we may suppose, the debates too protracted, they followed the Mosaic injunction, and selected wise men, who were to hear the cause that was too hard, and decide it with the right of appeal to the town. And so in five years from the arrival of the first settlers of Salem, Dorchester, Boston, and Charlestown, we find all the essential elements of a town government as it now exists in New England, and w^here it has become the wonder and admiration of the civilized world. If you will spread out before you a map of North America, and, without the least reference to political organization, mark with intelligent care those portions in which the great ends of human society have been most com- pletely attained, where life, liberty, and property have been 29 the most abundant and at the same time the most sacred, and where intellect has put forth in its richest luxuriance, you will find, when your work is complete, that you have marked with reniarkable accuracy the habitat of the town-meeting ; you will find that you have included those divisions where the rights of majorities and minorities are both regarded ; where the verdict of a jury is respected because it is honest and intelligent; and where all bow with respectful submission to the decision of a judge, because they know that judge cannot be bought. Nor is it difficult, I apprehend, to find the secrets of this strange power which resides in the town organization. It recognizes the rights of the humblest, and it cowers not in the presence of the wealth- iest and most powerful. It is worthy of remark how early the tenderest regard for the rights of all became manifest. I find in the early history of Dorchester that any man, though not a freeman, was allowed to attend town-meeting and lay before the town any grievance, and in an orderly manner to ask for redress. As its. great aim was to protect the persons and property of all, so it presented a strong stimulus to the minds of all, and thus became an educat- ing force of the highest order. The numberless questions aris- ing in their new relations, — questions of education and religion, of boundary, territory, and highway; questions of subsistence for the passing hour, and questions of well-being when the heavens and earth should have passed away, — all these were pressed upon the mind of the New England colonists with an urgency from which there was no escape. The tough problems of their secular life, and the tougher problems of their the- ology, allowed no sluggishness of spirit, no indolence of body or mind. And when they gathered in town-meeting, discussion became a relief to minds burdened with thought, and interchange of opinions taught them to respect conflicting views, and to yield 30 in form, if not in feeling, to the vote of the majority. Nor did their debates cease in the town-meeting ; they were adjourned to the field and the fireside. The cheerful circle of neighbors, gathered by chance or by invitation around the winter fire, or in the sheltering shade from summer heat, discussed the articles of the town-warrant, and anticipated or supplemented the action of the town-meeting. And this process of education you will readily perceive extended to all ages and conditions. The child of tender years shared its influence and partook of its power; maidens and matrons, with no right of suffrage recognized by law, not unfrequently directed that sufi'rage by a higher law than legislators and lawgivers can ordain or revoke. And so, with diversities of manners sometimes strongly marked, there grew up a unity of aim and spirit which had more than the force of a great central power. These little independent states, or nations, as they have been termed, have grown up side by side, have been multiplied, divided, and subdivided to the round number of fifteen hundred without shedding one drop of blood in civil strife, and without one conflict of interest which could not be settled in the supreme or General Court. Questions which have shaken the very pillars of continental Europe, and let loose the havoc of war from Cadiz to Archangel, from the Dardanelles to the Orkneys, have been settled by a vote in town-meeting by twelve men in a jury-box, or by a few calm words from the chief justice of the supreme court. The central force around which these communities have crystallized has been the toivn- meeting. The religious controversies of New England, bitter though they have sometimes been, have never shaken the deep and solid foundations of the town- meeting polity. It is true that church and state have been separated, parishes have been sun- dered, families have been divided, but these changes, unlike 31 similar ones in the old world, have kindled no Smithfield fires, nor left behind them the blackened and smouldering ruins of whole cities to mark their career of desolation. Our fathers, and some of us now present, have differed about the strait and narrow way that leadeth unto life, but we have travelled in per- fect harmony the rugged highways that lead us to the school- house and the meeting-house. We have not always sat around the same communion table, but we have always used precisely the same multiplication table; and so the school — the great bul- wark reared by the fathers against Satan — has remained beloved and inviolate. The people of Old Sudbury have once and again divided their territory, but they all still retain the same govern- ment. The original town acknowledged, nay was proud of its loyalty to Charles Stuart ; it was even more loyal to the Com- monwealth and its great Protector; it returned to the Stuarts; it shook off the tyranny of James II. ; it welcomed the Prince of Orange, and was ardently devoted to the House of Brunswick ; it defied George III. ; it adhered to the Provincial and Continental Congresses ; it upheld the Confederation, and for ninety years has been true to the Federal Constitution. Changes of dynasty, revolutions and reconstructions, have left your succession of boards of selectmen more peaceful and perfect than was that of the Pharaohs or Caesars. Nor is this all : the town-meeting has been the special object of royal displeasure. James II. ordered its discontinuance; George III. obtained with supreme satisfac- tion from his parliament an act abolishing town-meetings in Massachusetts. Abolish town-meetings ! Why did he not abol- ish the Gulf Stream, and stay the ebb and flow of the tide in Boston Harbor? And so this form of government proceeding from the people, carried on by the people for the people, has been the adamantine foundation upon which your higher polit- ical structures have been reared ; your legislatures, your courts, 32 your county commissions, your city charters, all rest upon the primitive granite of the town. The " stars and stripes " do not float from the summit of Beacon Hill in Boston on the first Monday in March. Governor and councillor, senator and representative, from Barnstable to Berkshire, presume not to sit in council while the sovereigns to whom they owe allegiance are holding court at the town-house. Once only in our history has there been the semblance of domestic violence ; but even that was not directed against the towns ; it was aimed at the courts and the Legislature. I do not justify it, but I cannot wonder at it. When I have stood upon the summit or slopes of Reeves's Hill, which command the river view from Beaver Hole to Sherman's Bridge, and gazed upon one of the fairest scenes in Middlesex, — fields clothed in the richest luxuriance of Ceres' golden reign, melting into the meadows at one time clinging close to the river banks, and then widening into the broad expanse of Sweetham and Landham ; the causeways with their willow-tufted banks ; the river creeping on its silver-winding way ; the farm with its fertile and fruitful acres, its giant oaks, its historic elms with their pendent branches waving gracefully in the breeze ; the cattle reposing beneath their shade, or grazing on the green- sward, Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Arrayed in living green; the copses and the thickets ; the woods rising in grandeur around the cultivated plain, with Nobscut, Green, and Goodman's Hills in the immediate background, and Wachusett, Monadnock, and Chicorua in the horizon, rearing their Atlantean summits against the sky, — when I have seen these meadows, intended by boun- teous Heaven for the sustenance of your flocks and herds, con- 33 verted into a millpond or pestilential marsh, and reflected that for two centuries you have been denied relief in the county and General Courts, and that all this has been borne without one act of violence, — I realize the truth of what De Tocqueville said when he affirmed that nowhere in the world is the authority of law so absolute as in America. And I may be allowed to add that you seem to me to have carried your obedience close to that point where it ceases to be a virtue. May we not hope that this part of our fair domain shall yet be redeemed. When Boston shall have taken from the head-waters of the river all she needs for her health, cleanliness, and adornment ; when im- proved drainage, dredging, and engineering shall have cleared the stream ; when Miss Hosmer and Mr. Gary shall complete their magnetic motors, which they promise us shall work so much cheaper than water, may we not hope that our river shall be allowed to flow unobstructed to the sea, and be no longer (to use the emphatic language of one of your citizens) " dammed at both ends, and cussed in the middle." A few facts from our history will show that I have not over- stated the efficiency of the town organization in those great crises which test the strength and tax the resources of states. I have tried to sketch the aspect of Europe and America at the time of the confederation of 1643. Advance a century in European and colonial history. Europe is in one of her dynastic convulsions, — the Silesian wars. France and England were arrayed on opposite sides in the conflict. War between Old France and Old England was also war between New France and New England. France was more liberal as a military power in her colonial policy than England. She had exhausted her military science and had spent thirty millions of francs in building the Dunkirk of America to guard her fisheries on the Grand Banks, to protect the valley of the St. Lawrence, and 34 to menace New England. The town-meeting colonies, without one soldier or one dollar from the mother country, and with but little aid from her navy, planted the provincial flag of Massa- chusetts Bay on the battlements of Louisburg, — the most brilliant achievement in a war made memorable by Dettingen and Fontenoy. The loss of Louisburg was a keen affront to the military pride of France, and marked the colonies as objects for early and ter- rible revenge. Scarcely ten years had passed before* the alarms of war again were heard along three thousand miles of frontier. France took to her alliance the untamed savage, and thought of nothing less than absolute submission or complete extermina- tion. Possessed of twenty of the twenty-five parts of the conti- nent, and leaving four twenty-fifths to Spain, it seemed an easy matter to conquer and appropriate the remaining twenty-fifth. But France did not consider the vast difference between subject and citizen, nor had England but a dreamy conception of it. The French colonists flocked to no town-meeting ; in danger and difficulty, their only resort was to the governor and to the throne. But the five hundred parliaments that gathered in the meeting-houses along the Connecticut, the Charles, and the Mer- rimac, and on the shores of Narragansett Bay, were more than a match for the war-councils of the savage, and in practical wisdom in colonial affairs, were as much superior to the great parliament in Westminster. Caesar tells us that in one of his battles, when he fought, not for victory but for life, it was of the greatest ad- vantage that the soldiers, trained in previous conflicts, knew exactly what to do, and without waiting for orders, took their places in the ranks and did good service against the enemy. This was precisely the case in our colonial history. The colon- ists were always in advance of the mother country. The pom- pous Braddocks, the cowardly Abercrombies, and the haughty 35 Loudouns, sent over at the beginning of the seven years' war, to patronize, to discipline, and lead to victory the yeomen of America, were despised by half the soldiers whom they led to slaughter. But a brighter day was at hand. The great English com- moner was called to the helm of state. His imperial will was guided by intelligence, and his commanding eloquence spake not for prerogative or rank alone, but for all England. He sympathized with the colonists, and they rallied to his call as clansmen to the summons of their chief. The exertions and sacrifices of these towns at this crisis almost surpass belief. But they knew the nature of the conflict, and marched to the plains of Abraham as cheerfully as to their ov/n village parade. Massachusetts sent six thousand eight hundred men, and she had spent a million in the cause the previous years. In the conflict on that memorable field were staked the destinies of colonial America. It was one of the most dramatic fields in all history. Numbers nor multitudes, it is true, were not ordained to the contest ; but all the interest that can be derived from variety of character and culture, race and religion, from the near and the remote, from antecedents and consequents, from influences reaching backward to the first upheaval of the continent and forward to its final doom, representatives of the highest civiliza- tion which the world had reached, ranged side by side with those who knew only the rude arts of the stone age ; from the disciples of Rome and Geneva, prelatical absolutism and pure Congrega- tionalism, worshippers of the Virgin and of the Great Spirit, memories of Champlain, Lasalle, Brebeuf, and Guercheville ; from the holy rites and solemn vows with which the city was founded, with its seminary, its hospital, and its convent, before it had a population ; memories of the captivities and cruelties of more than a century of border warfare ; the desolation of Acadia 36 (now partially atoned for by the verses of our own Longfellow) ; Louisburg, twice captured and dismantled ; from naval and military display ; from natural scenery in the full blaze of its au- tumnal glories, — these were some of the influences that centred on a field where a continent was the price of the conflict. There was Montcalm, our most dangerous and most honorable foe, a scholar, a soldier, a gentleman, and a patriot, with scars and honor brought from German and Italian fields ; there was Wolfe, weak and diminutive in body but great and valiant in soul, uttering from his scholarly lips, in the very manner and spirit of the Greek chorus, as he moved on his pathway of glory to his grave : — The heavens above him for his tent, And all around the night, the verses of that immortal Elegy : — The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. Await alike the inevitable hour, — The paths of glory lead but to the grave. " Gentlemen," said he to his fellow-officers in the boat, " I would rather be the author of that poem than to take Quebec." In the fleet was James Cook, then unknown to fame, studying his Euclid and improving his seamanship. In ten years he will be observing the transit of Venus on the other side of the globe, will give his name to lands and waters then undiscovered and his life to science and to man. Side by side with Montcalm was Bourgainville, then a soldier, soon to become a sailor and rival Cook as a navigator, explore Pacific archipelagos, be the first to carry the flag of France around the world, then mount the quarter-deck in the French navy and help us gain our inde- pendence. There was Isaac Barr6, the adjutant of Wolfe, 37 destined to lose his eyesight in the struggle, then to become our defender in parliament, and for ever remain the admir- ation of every American school-boy. There was Richard Mont- gomery, the promising young soldier, now risking his life to plant the standard of St. George on the battlements of Quebec and in sixteen years destined to lose that life on that very spot in an attempt to replace it by the provincial flag of America. There was Richard Gridley, artillerist and engineer, who planned Long Wharf in Boston Harbor and built its first pier, dropped the first bombshell in the citadel of Louisburg fourteen years be- fore, now raising to the heights, by the strong arms of his pro- vincial troops, all the artillery to be used in the battle; in six- teen years he will draw the lines and direct the fortifications on Bunker Hill and be wounded in their defence ; then, from his works on Dorchester Heights, compel his superior officer to evacuate Boston, and drive forever from the waters of Massachu- setts Bay the hostile flag of England. That superior officer was William Howe, who was learning, under Wolfe, those arts of war by which he was to force at such fearful cost the lines at Bunker Hill and gain a Pyrrhine victory. Such were some of the per- sonnel gathered upon that memorable field. But more than all, and above all, more interesting because more interested, were the Canadian peasantry and the New England yeomen ; more than the English veteran, whose tattered banner told of victories beyond the sea; more than the plaided Highlander; more than the regiments of Languedoc, Bearne and Guienne, — names which carry the imagination back to feu- dal scenes and mediaeval conflicts ; more than the titled leaders who fought with equal courage on either continent, and followed their banners without questioning the merits of their cause, — were those who fought, not for the smiles of princes, but for their wives and children, their faith and their firesides. Foes by 38 race and national traditions, the followers of creeds more hostile than race or nation could make them, they now stood face to face on a fairer field than any on which they had before met. On the one side was political and religious absolutism, the most extreme form of unquestioning and unquestioned obedience ; on the other, the extreme doctrine of individual freedom and re- sponsibility — the Spartan and the Athenian, the subject and the citizen, the man who does what he is told to do and the man who commands himself. Of the regiments who bore the brunt of that charge, led by Montcalm in person, and held their fire as they did afterwards at Bunker Hill till not a bullet should be wasted, three out of four were Americans, — Americans who had debated and voted in your town-meetings, held your ploughs, manned your fishermen, swung your scythes and axes, tilled your fields, and reaped your harvests. That bloody day virtually gave the continent of North Amer- ica to the British crown and placed England on the highest pin- nacle of glory that she has ever attained. And had she known at the Treaty of Paris the things that belonged to her peace and prosperity, had she followed the teachings of her Chathams and her Burkes, the world's history would have a very different read- ing for the last century to-day ; but they were hidden from her eyes. Take another step forward in the course of empire, and you find England arrayed against the colonial town-meet- ings. Up to that period the towns had done, as they do now, their own taxing, and they had done it well. Thirteen shillings in the pound had been cheerfully paid for their own defence and for England's aggrandizement. Massachusetts had sent more men into the field in proportion to her population than Napoleon's se- verest conscription took from France. But this was not enough. Ministers beyond the sea who knew not Joseph insisted on taxing 39 and governing. They sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind. I will ask your attention only to a single scene. The rights of Englishmen as established by the English constitution, defined in Magna Charta, ratified no less than thirty-five times by the Plantagenet kings, sealed by the blood of Simon De Montfort, reaffirmed in the Grand Remonstrance and the Petitions of Right, vindicated on all the hard-fought fields from Edgehill to Naseby, — these rights were expounded in the Boston town- meetings by the great New England commoner, Samuel Adams, with a force of logic and vigor of rhetoric which aroused the as- tonishment and admiration of all British statesmen, but were met by the scoffs and jeers of a subservient ministry and an obsti- nate king. The debate lasted ten years, and was transferred from the formulas of logic to the ultima ratio regiim on Lex- ington Green. The great commoner of Old England, Chatham, the veteran of a score of parliamentary campaigns, whose en- ergy had carried victory to the Ohio and the Ganges, warned and thundered in vain. France, twenty years before, had tried to exterminate the town-meeting civilization, and had been made to drink deep of the cup of humiliation in consequence. The young giant of the wilderness, who had been her deadliest foe, she was now willing to make her offensive and defensive ally. Just one hundred years ago, in the early months of the year, England was trying to corrupt by her gold where she had failed to conquer by her armies, and was willing to become a suppliant where she had been a tyrant. At this awful moment the great English commoner entered the English Parliament for the last time. Burdened by age and disease, but with eye undimmed and mental force unabated, he rose to protest against the dis- memberment of that monarchy, which, for more than forty years, he had faithfully and brilliantly served. It was the realization of the sublime scene which Milton imagined a century before, — 40 With grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat and public care ; And princelj' counsel in his face yet shone Majestic though in ruin ; sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as night. Or summer's noontide air. That voice which had sent CHve to Plassey and Wolfe to Quebec was now heard for a moment in opposition to Amer- ican independence ; but it was too late. In a second attempt to speak, his strength failed, and he sank into the arms of his son to rise no more. It was, perhaps, the most solemn and impressive scene in English parliamentary history. At the same time the great New England commoner spoke, not now to the town-meeting of Boston, but from his seat in the colonial congress to America, and the voice of the New England commoner prevailed even over the dying eloquence of Chatham. As England, by the aid of the town-meeting, had stripped France of four-fifths of the continent, so now France, by the aid of the same town-meeting, deprived the royal house of Brunswick of their fairest inheritance. Call now to mind the state of affairs at the time of the confederation of 1643, and think again for a moment of the splendor, the pomp, the power, and the pride of the French monarchy at that period. Compare it with these exiles in the wilderness, sheltered by their log-houses and defended by their stockades. Since that period we have seen these infant States with their town-meeting polity subdue the wilderness, conquer the savage, scale the battlements of Louisburg, climb the heights of Abraham, drive from Boston Harbor the most powerful navy in the world without firing a shot, fling defiance 41 at France, Spain, and England, compel their alliance andc laim the continent as their own. Look once more ere we leave this " specular mount." We began this panoramic sketch with a glance at absolute mon- archy in France, and of absolute democracy in New England ; let us close it with a glance at both at the close of a century and a half. In 1789, the French monarchy, ruined by its own excesses and abhorred by the nation, went down in its " impe- rial maelstrom of blood and fire ; " and for three generations we have seen this great nation struggling to construct a govern- ment, subverting this year the constitution of the last, passing from monarchy to republicanism, from the wildest anarchy to the sternest military despotism, scourged and betrayed by each new dictator, tribune, and demagogue, shaking every throne in Europe in its frenzied agonies, and threatening the moral foun- dations of the world while it plunged with fatal recklessness from experiment to experiment of bloodshed and ruin. In that very year the thirteen colonies, with George Wash- ington at their head, not by the sword, not by usurpation, not by intrigue, not by corruption, but by the spontaneous choice of an enfranchised and grateful people, put on the sovereign robes of their separate national existence, and joined for peace and for war, the great procession of the nations, — Magnus ab integro sjeclorum nascitur ordo. Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna . et incipiunt magni procedere menses. In this imperfect sketch of some leading events in our his- tory, it has been my aim to give prominence and emphasis to the town-meeting as the great force which underlies our national strength, and the want of which in some parts of the country is the great source of our national weakness. But do 42 not understand me to say that the town-meeting or the town organization is in itself possessed of any magical power. A microscope or a steam-engine would be of no use to a New Zealand savage. He would spoil the former, and be blown up by the latter. Intelligent foreigners who come among us cannot hold a town-meeting. They can debate, sometimes five or six at a time, but they cannot, to use the significant phrase of the Charlestown freeholders in 1635, — they cannot "bring things to a joint issue." What a blessing would the town- meeting be to-day in France if she knew how to use it ! Who can estimate its value to the Southern States of our own country, if they would train themselves to wear its easy yoke, and sub- mit to its mild discipline? These peaceful and unostentatious gatherings under forms prescribed by law, where nearly all the great functions of States are performed, mark the highest point which social science has yet reached. To those who are captivated by ceremony, by stars, garters, and titles of nobility, the opening of an English parliament, the throne, the robes 01 state, the mace, the orders and vestments of the nobility, the Commons at the foot of the throne, the forms of procedure handed down from Saxons to Normans, from Normans to Plantagenets, from Plantagenets to Tudors, from Tudors to Stuarts, and from Stuarts to Hanoverians, — all this would seem very grand to grown-up children, nor, indeed, is the scene with- out interest to a reflecting and cultivated mind ; but to the philosophic statesman who looks through show to substance, who regards realities, and not gaudy colors, character, and not ceremony, the quiet meeting of the farmer, the mechanic, the merchant, the manufacturer, the scholar, the artist, and the day-laborer, to talk over their common interests and decide upon their management, — this is the meeting where he discerns the strength of States ; and it is this spectacle which De 43 Tocqueville has pronounced in human affairs the height of the moral subhme. It is often said that it is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous ; and, in the case of the town-meeting, it is safe to say that the ridiculous is a part of the sublime. In the lives of towns, as in the lives of nations, crises occur and questions arise which seem, for the moment, to threaten the destruction of the very foundations of civil and social order. Conflicting in- terests, excited passions, intense ambitions, tear and rend these fierce democracies as tempest and tornadoes sweep the skies. These exciting contests, it is true, have their evils, but it is also true that they have their benefits ; and in the long run it will be found that the benefits greatly outnumber the evils. When these storms are past it is wonderful how few are the marks of injury which they leave behind them. In far the greater num- ber of cases the community is elevated, its deeper life has been stirred, and powers which had lain dormant are waked to health- ful and vigorous action. How often has it been the case tha when these contests have reached the verge of the tragic, a comic scene, adroitly introduced, has prevented the threatened catastrophe ! It is one of the chief elements of strength in the town-meeting that it is not insufferably respectable. It gives human nature a fair chance and full play, and weaves into the strength of its political fabric the grave, the gay, the lively, and the severe. A stroke of broad humor has sometimes, without answering, annihilated the most pompous and elaborate argu- ment. The striped frock has often been found more than a match for the finest broadcloth. The sterling common-sense trained at the plough, the anvil, or the shoemaker's bench, has proved too much for wits that could boast their collegiate, their legal, or their theological learning, and the broad-axe of the carpenter, or the cleaver of the butcher, has cut many a Gordian 44 knot of sophistry, which no logic could penetrate or refute. Faction and unreason, it is true, will sometimes gain the ascen- dency; but in the long run nowhere is talent or wisdom better appreciated and rewarded, or humbug more mercilessly chas- tised, than in town legislation. James Russell Lowell has shown in Hosea Biglow's March-meeting speech what elements of power reside in the homely Yankee dialect, and that something more than orthography and technical grammar is essential in effective speaking. When the University of Oxford con- ferred upon Mr. Lowell the highest of her academic honors, the Biglow Papers were mentioned as the special merit which gained their author his distinction. What treasures of wit and wisdom are slumbering in the records and recollections of these rural legislatures awaiting the touch of some " Great Wizard " of the future to give them form and life in the nation's literature ! It cost East Sudbury twenty-six town-meetings before the six brick school-houses were completed seventy years ago ; but the discussions and contentions, the passionate utterances of those meetings, I doubt not, carried the town forward a generation in her educational life. The seven years' contest, from 1806 to 1 81 3, that preceded the erection of yonder meeting-house, the thirty-four battles which were fought in this village parliament, to decide on which side of the brook it should stand, made all feel happier when, at last, by a unanimous vote, it was decided to build it on its present beautiful site. The traditions of those parliamentary strifes are among the pleasantest recollections of my boyhood. The teachers and actors of fifty years ago, in the town of East Sudbury, were men of which any community might, without vanity, be proud. They marched at the front of your municipal progress, because the soundness of their judg- ments, the correctness of their lives, in short, because that 45 mysterious compound, which, without self-assertion, will, never- theless, always assert itself, and which we call character, placed them there. You must allow me to improve this opportunity of acknowl- edging a debt, " the debt immense of endless gratitude," which has been accumulating for threescore years, — a debt which I owe to those who, now gathered to their fathers, were then your trusted and trustworthy leaders in town affairs. I ren^ember them on Sunday, and on the we^-day, at the altar and at the plough, at the public meeting, and at the social fireside. The Reeveses, the Heards, the Shermans, the Glezens, the Damons, the Lokers, the Johnsons, the Drapers, and the Rices. And when I was at school and in college, I felt an obligation resting on me to do no discredit to a town which contained so many men whose approbation was worthy of my ambition. Had I incurred censure in conduct or scholar- ship, I should not have dared to look them in the face. From men like these New England's grandeur springs, Who make her loved at home revered abroad ; Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, But honest men the noblest work of God. It is a most interesting feature in the structure which we dedicate to-day that it marks so distinctly the intellectual growth of the town, and makes provision for its greater devel- opment. As I gazed upon the well-kept library of seven thousand volumes in its new home, I could easily have made myself unhappy in cherishing the wish that I had been born sixty years later, that I might satiate the " thirst that from the soul doth spring" at that abundant fountain. Yet I feel that I was fortunate in having my lot cast in this community, for the 46 very reason that it was a reading community a half century ago. The parish Hbrary and the social library, with which I early became acquainted, though they would seem meagre to-day in comparison with their successor, were treasures, I imagine, which but few towns possessed. You enjoy a proud distinction among the three hundred towns and cities of this Commonwealth. When, more than thirty years ago, you received a generous gift from a source which greatly increased its value, you were not content to enjoy it alone. You seized the golden opportunity of placing, through your reverend representative, this great blessing within the reach of every town and city in the State. Other com- munities have received more princely benefactions, have erected more imposing buildings, have gathered a larger number of volumes ; but it has been your peculiar glory to give a bright example of that Fabian wisdom which saved Rome in her extremity, — the wisdom of doing much with comparatively little expenditure. It is a pleasure to me to reflect how the money with which your library was founded was obtained. The first five hundred dollars was earned by honest brain-work in teaching, first to the senior class of Brown University, and then publishing to the world the great principles of moral and political philosophy. The second five hundred was earned upon your own farms and in your own shops ; and the document that records these gifts in their original form is one of the proudest in your whole history. The third was the product of honest agricultural industry, or it may have been in part derived from one of those useful applications by Searching wits of more mechanic parts Who've graced our age with new-invented arts. The remainder has been furnished by your annual taxation. If so grand a result can be elsewhere found from the same 47 means, I know not where to direct you to search for it. There is another feature connected with your Hbrary which I must not pass over. You have called in the aid of art to enforce the in- structions of the printed page. You would remind all who repair thither for instruction not merely of the names but of the countenances of those to whom they are so deeply indebted. I want words and judgment to do them justice as I pass them briefly in review. There, in lines of startling beauty and accu- racy, you may be sure that you behold the features which gave expression to the thought and feeling of one of the ablest men^ of the past generation ; of whom it might be said, as Dr. Johnson said of Edmund Burke, that if a man were to go by chance with him under a shed to shun a shower, he would say, " This is an extraordinary man." You see the countenance in repose, and can hardly realize that so much gravity could dis- solve into the most contagious laughter and play with the most mischievous and mirth-provoking humor. His personal pres- ence was most imposing, and his intellectual and moral powers were in admirable harmony with his physical proportions. In another you behold the village pastor,^ who, in the earlier years of his ministry, felt that the intellectual and moral wants of his parish demanded his care along with their spiritual and religious culture ; whose lot it was, not by chance but by choice, when representing you in the Legislature, to propose a measure which marks an era in the educational history of the State.^ It was a peculiar pleasure to me, a few wee1