E a 57 MLGODDARD'S ADDRESS, IN COMMEMORATION OF THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT HARRISON. Oass ^3 3 Book , AN ADDRESS, IN COMMEMORATION OF THE DEATH OF WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, DELIVERED BEFORE THE CITY COUNCIL AND CITIZENS OF PROVIDENCE, ON THE NATIONAL FAST, MAY 14, 1841. By WILLIAM G^GODDARD. • • •• . ..... • • ••• • ,. . . • «••••••• • . . ... ... • ••• • • • * . . »» -* , ' PROVIDENCE: KNOWLES & VOSE, PRINTERS. 1841. '01 P«'-. w • i - II. 1 City Council of . request a copy for the pn ts, is herewith ■nbmitted u< your disp [ have the honor to hf, with the great! ot,your obedient servant, w ill,] \M i. GODDARD. Thomas C. Horrra, Toon u EL II in, B, Wi I M I .. M OALV, .1 \m M. Baalk, i Bi rai i v , \\ LfjAN W .!•'.'• I ADDRESS. Gentlemen of the City Council, and Fellow-Citizens of Providence ; The death of William Henry Harrison, late the President of the United States, has no paral- lel in the history of our country. Washington died amid the tranquil shades of Mount Vernon, after a life illustrated by the rarest union of heroic and of civic virtue which the world hath yet seen. His illustrious compatriots and successors, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, were permitted, for many years after they had rested from the labors of office, to rejoice in the prosperity of the land over which they had ruled, and, yet more, to rejoice in the power of republican institutions to withstand the trials to which republican institu- tions are, in an especial manner, exposed. They all died, after having accomplished every object for which, as public men, they had wished to live. Not thus was it with him, the tidings of whose death so recently agitated the hearts of this whole people. He was swept from the earth, in the hour of fresh triumph and joyous expectance, — in the midst <»l n: mplishcd plan-, amid all tin rns of place and of power; Bnatched for i from our sight at the moment when every i turned towards him, and before the voice, which he had lifted up in the presence of thousands, had died away upon the ear ! Whal | es of splen- dor and of gloom in the hi of th< last w< What alternations of joy and grief haw torn the public mind! How man] purposes have 11 broken off! How many hopes have perished! The Angel of Death hath gone up into our pal ces, and. as if to give this whole nation a more ml manifestation of his power, he hath smitten iwn, al light, the < bi< f w hom I rhted to honor. The agitation caused by an a! so startling, has subsided into the stillm of a contemplative sorrow. The son for ab- irbinfi emotion has The season for reflei tion has come. Let it not have come in vain. Now, in the time of our adversity, shall we not ek to learn the sweet uses of adversity ! Shall we not, in dependence upon divine aid, aim to discover and to renounce our sins I Shall we not, in profound humility, supplicate the King of all the earth to look down from the throne of bis holiness, in pity, upon us and our common coun- n I In the solemnities of this day there lieth a deep tning, which it were well to understand. They are endowed with a moral sublimit] which no forms of material grandeur can shadow forth. Thcj appeal to undying principles in the nature of man They -land in awful relationship to the attributes of the Eternal. They speak to us, in no earthly tones, of all that scatters light or dark- ness over the prospects of immortality. What a spectacle have the temples of Christian worship, throughout our land, this day presented ! A whole people, chastened by the recollection of their re- cent sorrow, and putting aside the interests of daily life, have prostrated themselves before the Al- mighty, to confess their dependence upon him ; to entreat the forgiveness of all their sins, negli- gences, and ignorances ; and to commend to his protection the country upon which, in all past time, his richest blessings have been showered. The pulpit, this morning, has been faithful to its high trust. It has addressed to the understanding the most momentous truths, and to the conscience and the heart the most persuasive exhortations in behalf of a better life. We have assembled, this evening, amid the trappings and the suits of wo, not to banish from our minds the high spiritual design of these solemnities, but to blend with them a tribute of grateful homage to the life and char- acter of our departed Chief Magistrate ; not to speak of him as the representative of any particu- lar opinions or interests about which his fellow- citizens are divided, but to speak of him as the President of this Federal Republic ; as a patriot who, when his country claimed his services, was always the last to think of himself; as a man of tried ability in the conduct of affairs, both civil and military ; but whose noblest distinction, after all, was not so much reach, and originality, and brilliancy of intellectual power, as that higher wisdom which if the growth of right principles and direct purposes, and cultivated affections. To more elaborate pens mus( be reserved that cumstantial narrative ol the events of his life, and ilia i accurate analysis of the elements of his char- acter, which hi*- fellow-citizens will do! be slow to demand as due to his fame and u> the fame of bis country. Be mine, however, the humbler task to glance at pa - in bis eventful Btory; and i<> attract your attention, more particularly, to those of his characteristics which can be contemplated without a jar to the frame ol a sorrowful <>r a devout spirit William Henri Harrison was a native of Vir- ginia — that land bo fertile in illustrious names allied to our proudest recollections of courtesj and \alor. and Renins and patriotism. Hewasbornon the 9th of February, 1773, and. a< will be seen, aot Long before that memorable struggle had com- menced which ended not, till the thirteen colonies fought themselves into the rank of free and inde- pendent States. Hedescended from ancestors not unknown to fame in the early history of \ irginia. His father Benjamin Harrison, was an eminent patriot <>i' the revolution, and a gentleman of the old school, lit- occupied several commanding sta- tions, and mixed himself largely with all the great events and stirring interests of his time. In the year 1791 be died, having maintained unforfeited, i" the last, his claims to the confident e and favor "i his fellow-citizens. Benjamin Harrison was among the intrepid signers of the Declaration of Independence ; but history assigns to his name a yet nobler distinction, a more consecrated title to immortality, by recording the fact that he was " an intimate friend of Washington." Young Harrison was committed by his father to the care of Robert Morris, one of the most con- spicuous actors in the drama of the revolution — the great financier — gifted with no humble portion of the transcendant genius of Hamilton. To such influences was our late President subjected in the forming stages of his character. His father and his father's friend had perilled all in the cause of freedom. Is it strange that his youthful spirit caught the generous inspiration, and that he was eager to go forth to do and to dare in the service of his country 1 After completing his academical education at Hampden Sydney College, he direct- ed, under the advice of his friends, his attention to one of the liberal professions. He was reserved, however, for a far different destiny. The Indian tribes on our northwestern borders, who had fought under the banner of England, during the revolu- tionary war, laid not down the weapons of war when peace was concluded with their civilized ally. True to their instincts, the Indians pushed the work of rapine, and massacre, and conflagra- tion, till the faces of all who lived upon our fron- tiers gathered paleness. Throughout the whole land, sympathy for the sufferers, and indignation against their ruthless assailants, spread with elec- tric rapidity. Our young student was impatient to engage in the strife. Abandoning his profes- sional pursuits, he rushed, at the early age of eighteen, from the shades o! the academy into the tumults of the camp In the year L791 be receiv- ed from President Washington the commission ol ' ign and, what i et men grateful to his iibilities h( in his romantic « n- terprise by the approving yoice i ••< shington. Shortly after the disastrous defeat ol St. < Hair, he reached h iment, then stationed at Fort Wash- ington which occupied the present Bite of the of Cincinnati. How pregnant with all the ele- ments and associations of romance is this Bimple i ' What an impressive commentary upon the elastic spirit and the expansive energies of free- dom! When Ensign Harrison first passed within her Limits, Ohio was a wilderness Cincinnati but a feeble and obscure settlement ! In the progi of a leu years, for what is half a century in the life of a nation, Ohio teems with population, and is endowed with all the institutions ol cultivated society, with all the faculties of an empire. Cin- cinnati i> the great city of the West, wealthy, enterprising, and intellectual. Yet more; this same Ensign Harrison, after having acini the silver liven of advised ace," comes to rule i over seventeen millions of people, at the cheering voice of the multitudes who now inhabit the mag- nificent domain in the defence of which he nerv< d his youthful arm ' The limits t,» which this address must be re Btricted, forbid me to dwell on the earl) militan career of Harrison. He was not slo* in establish- ing an elevated character, as a soldier and a man. The perils and trials, the privations and exposun - 9 incident to warfare with savages, amid forests and morasses, it would not be easy to exaggerate. None of these things moved him from his settled purpose. His health was delicate, and his friends, apprehensive that he would fall a victim to un- wonted trials of his strength, advised him to resign his commission. He refused to abandon the ser- vice in which he had embarked. Though removed from the wholesome restraints of public opinion, he yielded not to the seductions of the camp. He desecrated the temple of his immortal spirit, by no profane orgies ; and his habits of temperance, thus early formed, were the parent of the health and vigor which blessed him even to the close of life. Ensign Harrison was soon advanced to the rank of lieutenant. So highly did General Wayne, his commander-in-chief, esteem him for his courage, attention to discipline, and other military qualities, that he commissioned him as one of his aids-de- camp. In his general orders and official despatch- es, General Wayne, on more than one occasion, had reason to commend the bravery and good conduct of Lieutenant Harrison. The bloody and desperate battle of the Miami, in which the Indians were totally defeated, terminated the war. Soon after this battle, he was promoted to the rank of captain, and was assigned to the command of an important station on the western frontier. As, however, the peace with the Indians allowed him no farther opportunity of serving his country in the field, he, at the close of the year 1797, resigned his commission in the army. 2 10 And now begins the civil career of Harrison — thai career which) though interrupted bj bii re- turn to the employments of military life, was d< tined not to end, till ;i grateful people conferred upon him the highest honor within their gift. Immediately after bis retirement from the army, he was appointed bj President Adams Secretary, and, . ., >, Lieutenant < iovernor of the North- western Territory. " Here jaya Mr ( lushii • : in the discharge of tin- civil duties incumbent on his office, lie became intimately associated with tlu- brave and hardy people around him, and learn- ed t<> iind< rstand, and dulj estimate the character, wants, and wishes of his countrymen Btudyii tbe practical Lessons of life in the great volume ol nature, as unfolded to bim by daily intercourse, in the cabin of the settler, tin- hunter's Lodge, the council chamber, and in social meetings with the free-spirited pioneers of the West." The North- western Territory then embraced tin- whole of our territory lying northwest of tin- river Ohio. Such confidence did tin- people of that Territory place in his talents and fidelity, that the\ elected him, the following year, their first Delegate to the Con- BTeSSOf the I nited States. In this new and im- portant relation, he acquired additional lion. a-. Associated with him in tin- councils of the nation, were Borne of our most distinguished statesmen and eloquent debaters. 'To he a member of Con- gress, at that time, was an enviable distinction; \ li •■outlines «.f tli-: Life of Harrison," by 1! a. Caleb tiiog. 11 for our halls of legislation had not then been dis- graced by those offensive personalities and those scenes of disorder which have since caused the considerate men of all parties to blush and to tremble for their country. Although only about twenty-six years of age, Mr. Harrison, by his broad and comprehensive views of public policy, and, by his familiarity with the practical details of legislation, commanded the respect of the more experienced men around him. He signalized his career in Congress, as a Delegate, by the change, which he proposed and materially contributed to effect, in the then existing mode of disposing of the public lands. They had heretofore been sold in large tracts, the smallest of which included at least four thousand acres. This system, found to be exclusive in its operation, and unfavorable to the growth of the West, was so modified by the bill which he reported, and which subsequently became a law, that the tracts of public land were required to be offered for sale in a very reduced size. Thus were they placed within the pecuniary ability of actual settlers. The principle involved in this important measure has, by subsequent acts of Congress, been extended. And its justice and wisdom have been signally vindicated by the mar- vellous changes which increasing population and wealth have wrought throughout the immense valley of the Mississippi. In the year 1800, the Northwestern Territory was divided, and a separate territory of almost boundless extent was established, under the name of Indiana. Mr. Harrison having resigned his seat 12 in Congress, was appointed Governor of thi^ m territory, being first appointed by Mr. A.dams, and, afterwards, by Mr. Jefferson. 11*- v.as intrusted u nh civil powers so extensive, and so unrestrained its the usual checks, that nothing l>m the necessi- ties of ih<- case and the high personal character of the Governor, could justify this wide practical departure from the cautious theories of a republi- can government. Well, b did In- repaj the confidence ilms reposed in h i> integrity, tal- ents, moderaf ion, and courage. For thirteen years, be dicharged, with unquestioned ability, the dut of his elevated and difficult office. The peculiar conditions under which he was placed, subjected his moral and intellectual character to ■ severe practical test. He ruled over a thinly-scatfc population, in the bosom of a wilderness, and sur- rounded by a ferocious and treacherous foe, thirst- ing i<> renew the work of slaughter and of ven- geance, lie was charged with a mass of gra complicated, and almost irresponsible powers, w hicb operated on the various interests of a people in the forming stages of Bocial organization. It was }\\< concern to see that the Indian did not pillage and murder the borderer; and thai the borderer did not provoke and defraud the Indian. It was, moreover, his concern to exercise a sub- stantial control over titles to Large tracts of the public land Lying within his civil jurisdiction. For Borne time, he was, in effect, the lawgiver of the people of the Northwest, and most exemplary was he in the discharge of his numerous delicate trusts The records of his multifarious transactions with 13 the Indians, in peace and in war, cannot be read without exalting the public estimate of his practi- cal wisdom in the conduct of affairs — without a stronger conviction of his military skill, and of the humanity which beautifully tempered his valor. " It is not," says Fisher Ames, " in Indian wars that heroes are celebrated ; but in them they are formed." The experience of Harrison illustrates this remark, and verifies its philosophic truth. From boyhood till the close of his military career, he was familiar with the warfare of the Indian. No stranger was he to " the suddenness of his onset, or the craft of his ambushes, or the ferocity of his vengeance." The discipline of difficulty and of danger was not lost upon him. His whole life was marked, and strongly marked, by those characteristics, which are developed, in great vigor, only by emergent occasions, by intricate combina- tions of circumstance, by strange and varied ex- periences of peril and of toil. While administering the government of Indiana, he was again compelled to resort to arms, in de- fence of his extended frontier against the attacks of the Indians. In the year 1805, was formed, as it is believed, under the influence of foreign emis- saries, a most formidable combination of all the Northwestern tribes of Indians, with the design, by a sudden and simultaneous onset, to destroy all the whites, or drive them from the valley of the Mississippi. Of this design, Governor Harrison was fully apprised, but, by the exercise of a wise policy, he was enabled, for several years, to pre- vent any serious attempt to execute it. 1 1 hi i In- year 1811, the inhabitants of oui western itier were again involved in an Indian war. whoop again awakened tie- Bleep "i the cradle, and the darkness of midnight glittered with the blaze of their dwelling At the h< ad of all tin- forces which he could muster Governor Harri- son marched, \\ itli caution, through an uncultivated ami exposed region, t<> Tippecanoe - that name, once how exhilarating! Bui ah, tin- carols are all ended ! On thai spot, was waged one of the ni<»v.( fearful strifes in the annals of Indian warfare. The forces were nearly equal ; every man shared the dangers of the battle. The Indian-, fought, hand to hand, and with desperate bravery. Night lenl her horrors to the Bcene. [n the midst oi all this wild and impetuous conflict, and exposed t<> imminent »nal hazard, Harrison continued to put forth his calm might, and to raise his animating i'. At Length, the day dawned, when, l>\ a novement, the strife was ended. Victory :hed upon the banners of our army. The bor- der settlements were rescued from the appalling calamities which threatened to overwhelm them. After the d< :laration of war with England, in the year 1812, the military talents of Harrison were again pul in requisition. The inhabitants of the frontiers looked to him, instinctively, for p tection, as the man of the crisis ; and the) looked not in vain. President Madison, responding to the universal sentiment, not to Bay the acclamations of the people of the West appointed him COIU- mander-in-chief of the Northwestern army. He was invested with powers the most extensive, and 15 was left to exercise them, according to his best judgment. In discharging the high trusts com- mitted to him, he did not fail to justify the confi- dence with which President Madison had honored him. Obstacles and impediments clustered in his path, and retarded his progress, but his spirit never faltered. His energy, firmness, and courage, were again triumphant. He accomplished all the ob- jects prescribed to him, and, within one short year from the time he commenced his campaign, he gloriously terminated it, by the victory of the Thames — " a victory which," said Langdon Cheves on the floor of Congress, " was such as would have secured to a Roman general, in the best days of the republic, the honors of a triumph ! " Unwilling, fellow-citizens, to detain you upon topics which, by some, may be thought uncongen- ial to this season of devout humiliation and funeral solemnity, I have sought to avoid all reference to military details ; and, in my rapid glance at what General Harrison dared and did, I have passed by many trials of character, not borne in vain, and scenes of martial triumph which the Muse of His- tory will transmit to future times. I have not re- called to your memory his brilliant defence of Fort Meigs, so memorable in the history of the late war, nor his wise forecast in causing a fleet to be built and equipped, in order to obtain command of Lake Erie. Quite unnecessary have I deemed it to remind you of his association, in danger and in fame, with our own Perry, who, with all the laurels which he had won upon the Lake, yet 16 upon bit brow, fought, ;^ a volunteer, in tin battle of the Thames, by the aide of Harrison. MoTed as it is thought, by some private grief the Secretary of War. G ral Armstrong;, in the plan of the ensuing campaign, saw lit to assign in Genera] Harrison a comparatively unimportant command, and to intrust to others the post of duty and of danger. Justly indignant at such treat- ment, and too disinterested to enjoy bis elevated rank ami the emoluments ivhich it conferred, with- out rendering an equivalent service, he resigned his commission in the army. In the absence of the President from the scat of government, the tretary of War hastily assumed the right to accept General Harrison's resignation. Thus, in the subsequent campaigns, the country was de- prived of the abilities of bira " who," in the words of the gallant Colonel Johnson, " was, during the Late war, longer in active service than any other genera] officer ; was perhaps oftener in action than any of them, and never sustained a defeat." General Harrison returned to the walks of pri- \att- Life, with a name, not only unsullied, but bright with honor. President Madison, in ap- pointing him, soon after his resignation, to conduct, in connexion with other distinguished men, impor- tant negotiations with several of the Indian tribes, gave him a renewed proof of that confidence which had. it is believed, at no tune, been either bus pended or withdrawn. Vet more conspicuous honors awaited him. In L816 be was elected a Representative in Congress from the State oi 17 Ohio ; and, in 1824, having been, in the mean- time, a member of the Ohio Senate, he was elected a Senator in Congress from that State. General Harrison had, for so many years, been conversant with the principles and details of civil adminis- tration ; so familiar was he with the various inter- ests of the West ; so interested in all that related to the effective organization of the army, that he soon became a prominent member of that body, which then, as it is now, was composed of some of the ablest men in the country. He was, as would appear from his cursory debates and his more formal speeches in Congress, a ready, animated, and efficient debater, full of resources, and apt in applying them to the subject under discussion. In the debates of the Senate he frequently parti- cipated, and he helped, in no humble measure, to shape the character of several important acts of general legislation. The last civil function which General Harrison performed, prior to his election to the President- ship, was a diplomatic function. In 1828, Presi- dent Adams appointed him Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Republic of Colombia. Without delay, he repaired to the scene of his mission. Such, however, was the state of the new republic, and so speedily was he recalled, in consequence of a change of parties at home, that he was unable to accomplish any im- portant object. His celebrated letter to Bolivar, the Dictator of Colombia, must be familiar to the minds of all who hear me. I advert to it now, not so much for the purpose of commending its 3 18 generous republican sentiments, ta for the pun of directing your attention t<> the following noble passag To be esteemed eminently great, it is trj to be < minently g I. The qualities the hero and tin- general must be d< roted to the advantage ol mankind, before he will be permit- ted i" assume the title of their benefactor; and the station which he will hold in their regard and affections will depend, not upon the number and Bplendor of his victories, but upon the results and tin" use he may make <>t' the influence he acquires from them." Here is embodied the grand moral of Harrison's life, the true secret of his fame, the only imperishable element of all real greatnes I have invited yon. my fellow-citizens, to a rar- \ ey of a Large portion of tin- active lift- of < Jem Harrison. You have followed him from \n< youth to his mature age. You have beheld him, at one time, discharging grave and most difficult civil trusts . at another, fighting the battles of his coun- try, and. I>v his victories >vering her lost terri- torv, and retrieving her lost honor You have beheld him, amid primeval forests, contending with the elements, and protecting the n I Iweller beyond the mountains from savage ferocity. You have seen him. in legislative hall-, len his ripened wisdom t<> the public counsels; and you have seen him, last of .-ill, the apostle of republi- can principles at tin- court of a Dictator! Ami, amid all this variety of conditions, have you not. found him. in purpose, in principle, in character, always 'he Bame always just, always firm; his 19 head always quick to discern the wise expedient ; his " heart expanded, and always in the right place " 1 * And now, fellow-citizens, follow this veteran worthy, rich in naught but honor, into his retire- ment on the banks of the beautiful Ohio. See how life passes with him, under this new condition. Is he not the same man still ? Though not born for seclusion, is he impatient of seclusion 1 Does he sigh for the camp, or the senate-house, or the court 1 Does the crowded drama, in which he has been a chief actor, pass in shadowy review before him, to mock dejected hopes, and to exasperate the sense of disappointment to a pang ? Do you need to be told that William Henry Harrison was too rich in the materials of intellectual and moral happiness, to waste an hour in dreams, or to suffer a drop of bitterness to reach the fountains of his spirit 1 He lived at North Bend, as he had lived every where else, to good purpose, like a true man and a true gentleman ; enjoying homebred affec- tions ; like some of the best worthies of ancient days, cultivating his acres, without forgetting his country or neglecting his heart ; given to a gene- rous hospitality ; and, when graver duties did not forbid, regaling his intellect and taste by the study of elegant letters. Such was William Henry Har- rison at his homestead on the banks of the Ohio. How does that dwelling mourn that the light of his presence has vanished for ever ! Henceforth, it * Governor Metcalfe, of Kentucky. •>(l will become, in some sort, a consecrated >| •« .t . ami the traveller, a- he approaches n. will strain hi- eyes i" catch a glimpse of the mansion when passed, in honor ami in quiet some of tin- happiest \, an of tin' patriot statesman, now translated t<» a house not made n itli hands. Of subsequenl events in his history, 1 ran pre- siimr no one to bo ignorant The voice of the people summoned him from a retirement which he hail supposed was t<> continue lor tin- residue of his lite, to lill the otlice of President of these I si- ted States. His journey from Ohio to Washington will not soon be forgotten. Without the pomp of a triumph, it had more than the honors of a tri- umph. At the wayside and at the place of con- course — in city or in hamlet — -on mountain or in valley, the people, without distinction of age, sex, color, or condition, pressed upon him, with their hearts in their hands, to bid him welcome. Ar- rived at the seat of government, like a true son of Virginia, lie yearned to revisit, once more, his native land. The thought of other years, of ties now broken, but well remembered still, came thronirinir around him ; and, before he entered upon the duties of office, lie yielded to his affec- tionate instincts, and went to see Virginia. He went to look, once more, at the old family man- sion, to survey its ancestral halls, to Bit, again, under the shade of those patrimonial trees, beneath which he had frolicked in boyhood to live o\er again, in memory, the days when his father was alive, and his children were about him — and, \« i more, to all his spirit with most gracious inlluen- 21 ces, by recollections of that mother who was wont to pray for him, and who taught him how to pray ! In that mother's chamber, where he was born, and where he had often kneeled beside her, while she earnestly implored the rich blessings of Heaven on his future life, he penned that remark- able passage in his inaugural address, in which he expresses his profound reverence for the Christian religion. How beautiful the picture here presented to our view ! The child of many prayers has be- come a gray-haired statesman, and is about to be clothed with the selectest honor which a nation can confer. With thoughts saddened by anticipa- tions of the cares and responsibilities of office, he turns to the image of his sainted mother, and on that spot from which her voice of supplication had gone up to the mercy seat for him, he bears his testimony to the value of that religion which was her hope in death, and which, it is not too much to say, was his ! The scenes at which I have asked you to look, must undergo another, and yet another change. Next comes the Inauguration. A pageant more brilliant and captivating, has, in this country, seldom been seen. The metropolis was thronged with multitudes from the East and from the West, from the North and from the South. As the pro- cession, with bannered pomp, and glittering array, and spirit-stirring music, passed along the streets and avenues of Washington, the man of the people was the observed of all observers. On every side, was heard the voice of welcome, and every face was lighted with the smile of joy. He took the oath 22 ofoffia and delivered his address in the nee ofnearl) fortj thousand of his countrymen, listening, with profound attention, to what proi to be bis parting count Is they rent the air with i beir acclamat iona ' In one month, one little month, ah! what a change! Hushed all at once are the jubilant echoes, and Qed the joyous smiles. The wail of ii>U is heard from the bed of sickness, doomed, too Boon, to become the bed of death. Throughout our land, intense was the anxiety which \n< dan awakened, and genuine the sorrow felt l>\ th< men of all parties, when it was known that he bad ceas- ed in live. Well might we all grieve for one, who had ev< r been true t<> us for one whose thoughts were upon usand bis country, even when the dews dt' that!; gathered upon his forehead. These 5cen< b of touching pathos winch I have sketched, but have not aimed t<> paint, are well nigh over. What solemn beauty, what almost incommunica- ble sadness in that last pageant, with which the nation sought to assuage its own sorrow, and to honor the illustrious dead ! What a change had come over that dwelling, in one short month! There he lav. in that dread repose' which no man may break, ami upon the very Bpot which had hardly parted with the echoes of congratulation and of triumph. No \oice now was heard, hut the voice of him who, in the name of his Lord, spoke of the Resurrection ami the Life. u The awful fathers of the State were then- the titled representatives of kings were there— political chieftains, once bis foemen, were there — warriors 23 young and old, were there, to look, for the last time, upon a warrior's face ! Slowly and solemnly, they bore him to his grave — through those same paths which he so lately trod, full of health, and hope, and joy. Not a sound is heard, but the knell of death — the muffled drum, the hearse-like airs which float upon the breeze, like airs from another world. With reverent hands, they com- mit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust ! And is this all of William Henry Harrison ! No ! Faith triumphs over the grave. They look for the general resurrection in the last day, when this corruption shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on immor- tality ! My fellow-citizens, how impressive are the scene? which I have contrasted. In presenting them afresh to vour minds, I have dealt in no arts of poetical exaggeration. Can they be looked upon without emotion 1 It is not, however, for the purpose of indulging an indolent and luxurious sorrow that we have come hither, to-day. We have come together to pay a tribute of veneration to the character of a great and good man ; to contemplate that character, in some of the various lights in which it was reflected ; and to gird our- selves for a yet sterner conflict with the principle of evil within and around us. I stand not here to lavish extravagant praise upon the departed President. He was a man, and, therefore, was not without the frailties of a man. I place him on no height of inaccessible 24 virtue I bespeak lor bim no idolatrous homage. To some exhibitions of hi^ character, I have al- read] adverted Before, however, I quit the task with which you have honored me, let me speak to you, somewbal more fully, of bis substantial claims ujinii your respect and grateful remembrani President Harrison belonged to the order of efficient and well-balanced minds. Subjected t<» numerous and decisive tests, in peace and in war. his intellectual powers were always found t«> be equal, and more than equal, to the crisis. The] were distinguished, not Less for their amplitude than their harmony. They were prone to no ex- they exhibited no disproportion, they delight- ed in no eccentricity. Abstractions never bewil- dered them; the splendid and fanciful combina- tions of genius never seduced them from their sphere. The besl part of every man's education is the discipline of life — the demands which prac- tical occasions make upon the mind— the difficul- ties which sharpen its penetration — the labors which task its strength — the extended relations which enlarge its comprehension. To this BOrt of intellectual training, he was early accustomed; and the freedom, and directness, and vigor with which he put forth Ins mind, under ever) varietj of circumstance, was of such training the natural result, lie Btudied, however, not only men. bul books, and hooks he studied, that he might better Understand men. Without pretensions to erudi- tion, he had stored his mind with a rich fund of genera] knowledge, and he had superadded the 25 finish of no inelegant scholarship. The produc- tions of his pen would fill a volume. While they do honor to his powers as a thinker, they exhibit him as a ready, clear, and polished writer. I am admonished, however, to leave this region of frigid analysis, to dwell on themes of gentler and more solemn interest — to speak to you of the man, and of the spirit which moved the man, in the various and commanding relations which he was called to sustain ; of those moral endowments for which he was so eminent ; and which, now that he is no more, we most love to contemplate. As a statesman, William Henry Harrison stood upon well-defined principles, and to these princi- ples he adhered with unswerving honor. This was the main cause of his popularity — a popularity unequalled by that of any other man, since the days of Washington. His popularity was not that which is run after — " that weed of the dunghill, which, when rankest, is nearest to withering." * It was founded on intrinsic merit and good service. The people trusted him and favored him, not so much because they thought him to be great, as because they knew him to be honest. They saw that, in the discharge of his public duties, he was not only just, but humane and disinterested — not only firm, but conciliating and forbearing. Few men have enjoyed more abundant opportunities of enriching themselves, and yet he died compara- tively poor. He died poor, because he abhorred the degradation of acquiring wealth by equivocal * Fisher Ames. meant and be* ause .1- a public man. he would use no means to benefit hi*; fortunes, which would expose linn even to the suspicion of dishonor. Hon would tli«' records of thi- L r ""d man's life Bhame these days of lai private and social morality, when a pure name is do Longer preferred to riches ; when the most sacred trusts are abused ; when the obligations of law. and honor, and conscience are violated, not only without scruple, hut without punishment ! As a military man. In- was remarkable for the excellent discipline which, without the exercise <>i severity, he was able to maintain. This \6 no -mall praise; for he had to deal with somewhat refractor} materials; with Indians bard to be reconciled to tin- usages of civilized warfare; with regular troops do< yet estranged from irregular babits; with militia, impatient to return t" their homes, and jealous of all restraints upon their freedom. It was by generous moral influences, that he moulded these discordant materials to his purposes He never forgot that his troops were men, and that some of them were his Irllow-citi- zens. He' governed them with ease, because, to use his own language, " be treated them \\ itfa kind- ness and affection ; and shared with them, on ever) occasion, the hardships which they were obliged to undergo." The uncounterfeited Badness with which the tidings of President Harrison's death were receiv- ed throughout the country, inspires confidence in the mora] sensibilities of the countn Thank 21 God ! there yet remain to us some spots of verdure, amid the arid waste which antagonist parties have created — some cheering tokens that even in our strifes we have not forgotten that we are men, and brethren, and Christians ! It indicates a yet higher form of the moral character, that this people, turning away from the civil and military distinc- tions of Harrison, seek to contemplate the beauty of his daily life. And yet more, it marks the uni- versality of the religious sentiment, and it speaks well for the Christian character of our country, that his chastened and humble piety is among the most precious recollections of those who now mourn and honor him. Happily on this topic, which com- mends itself with such interest to every man who values himself on the dignity of a thinking being, we are left to something better than a trembling hope. Since his death, the public mind has, on more than one occasion, been attracted to ample evidence that his piety was no formal and decorous piety — that his faith was no speculative faith — that his good deeds were performed in dependence upon a strength not his own. Most exemplary was his reverence for that Book, which, in the comprehensive language of John Locke, " has God for its author, salvation for its end, and truth, with- out any mixture of error, for its matter." With no austere precision, but with conscientious gravi- ty, did he observe that sacred day which is the great bulwark of Christianity in all lands, and which this people are more especially concerned to save from desecration. And yet more, he felt himself to be a sinner in the sight of God, and he prostrated himself in devout humility, before the Saviour of sinners To that Saviour he had given \w< heart, and to that Saviour be had resolved, without delay, publicly to confess his allegiance. A no Lest interesting proof of the temper of his soul ma) here be added. In a Letter to her who for bo many fears, the depositary of his affec- tionate and unreserved confidence he revealed the interesting tact that, alter returning from the <■ monies of the inauguration, he ret ired to his i ham- ber, as soon as he could find time, and there fell upon his knees to thank his Maker for all his mercies, and to supplicate his gracious guidance in the faithful discharge of the duties which, as the occupant of a high Station, he owed t" him and to his country. Is there in an incident like this no power l" reach the heart I A Christian statesman, oppressed by the solitariness of gran- deur, seeks communion with his God ! A. Chris- tian statesman, anticipating that trials may per- plex and darken his course, goes, for liu r ht and for comfort, to the source of eternal illumination and repose ! My fellow-citizens, the man for whom we are now in heaviness, and whose lame we are about to commit to the judgment of history assured that from the judgment of history he has nothing to fear, 1ms expressed, as in the presence of thi>> whole people, his profound reverence tor the Chris- tian religion, and his thorough conviction that sound morals, religious liberty, and a just sense of religious responsibility are essentially connected 29 with all true and lasting happiness. In the proud days of Gentile philosophy, a famous historian stigmatized Christianity, in accommodation to the prevailing sentiment, as " a pernicious supersti- tion." Not two thousand years have passed away, and what a change in the moral condition of soci- ety hath been wrought ! Christianity has become the religion of every portion of the earth redeemed from barbarism — the parent of a new and higher form of civilization — elevating, every where, the masses, and, through the agency of the masses, pervading the character of all existing institu- tions. This great principle of social progress is destined to achieve yet nobler triumphs — to dif- fuse, through all civilized lands, yet sublimer con- ceptions of truth and of duty — to endow with moral life the races which for ages have slumber- ed in darkness. In this country, more especially, is Christianity to be prized as an essential ele- ment of strength, and happiness, and safety. We need the hopes which it inspires ; but, most of all, do we need the motives which it implants, and the restraints which it provides. Here, all power re- sides exclusively in the people ; and our govern- ment supposes that the most efficient checks, the only genuine conservative influences, are the good sense of a cultivated, moral, and religious people. Let us, then, be true to ourselves. Let us take good heed that our liberty does not degenerate into license ; that our passions do not drown the voice of our reason ; that impracticable theories do not mislead us ; that inordinate vanity and reckless self-confidence do not betray us to our ruin. In election! to office, let im turn away from th< demagogues who meanly seek our confidence, to the men wlm beat deserve it ; t<» the men who are too honest ti» flatter us, and too patriotic not to our interests to our favor. Above all, let us remember that, unless the spirit of the people be right, legal <",). -. are nothing— protective char- ters arc nothing— constitutions, whether written or unwritten, arc nothing— and that our popular institutions cannot be upheld, without impressing on the popular mind a conviction of the indisso- luble union between religion, liberty, and law.