ill' "i fll ll ' 'lIH ' . j-jgafc 3 9002 Hall, Edward B. The value of a man. a diacourse, Providence ,1848, Cbe>3 643 YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ®1)£ talue of a Mm. DISCOURSE, OCCASIONED BT THE DEATH OF HON. HENRTWHEATON DBLIVEEED SUNDAY EVENING, MARCH 19, 1848, FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, PJIOVIDENCE, R. I. BY EDWARD B. HALL, FASTOB OF THE CHUBCH. PROVIDENCE: CHARLES BURNETT, Jr. 1848, (1\>&2).5^3 DISCOUESE. Isaiah xiii. 12. I will make a man more preoioias than fine gold; even a man, than the golden wedge of Ophir. By what rule or scale is the value of a man to be estimated ? A man- — the child and the image of God ; to whom the inspiration of the Almighty hath given understanding ; who is placed at the head of the creation of God, made a little lower than the angels, and crowned with glory and honor. A man — for whom God has opened his holy heaven, and Christ has lived, and died, and risen again. A man — whose life here is as an hand-breadth, but whose whole existence is an eternity; whose present strength is at best weakness, and his wisdom folly, but whose spiritual power and possible progress, no lines can limit, or thought conceive. Of such a being, how shall we determine the value ? Are we most in danger of taking too high, or too low a standard ? Should we look to the history of man for an ans wer, and take his' own estimate and use of himself, or his estimate and use of other men, there could be 4 little hesitation, and little pleasure in answering. Man has fallen from his high estate, and lost or dis regarded the knowledge of his origin and destiny. Man has bartered himself for gold, and sold his life for lust, or meat and drink. Man has made himself a brute, and believed himself a clod, and squandered his high powers and affections on the veriest trifle and cheat. Man has weighed his soul against a crown, a name, a gilded toy, a waving plume, Man has set himself up as a mark for his fellow-man to shoot at, and has himself slain myriads of men, as hostile or worthless. Man has bought and sold his brother and his children, as chattels. What estimate does it all show of the value of a man ? Should we look at the gods which man has made and worshipped, the idols of his slavish fear or sen suous love, the chosen masters of his fortune, and supposed lords of his destiny, the inference would be no better. And little better, from most of the sys tems of philosophy, from the theology of the greater portion of the Christian world, the Catholic, and much of the Protestant, their views of God's char acter, and of the nature he has given his children. A strange error seems to be almost universal — that of supposing that we exalt the Creator, by dispar aging the creature ; with the kindred error, that to magnify the nature and worth of a man, is to laud his character and flatter his pride. But has not the effect of the opposite course been this — to hide from man the mark which God has set for him, and render impracticable, or merely figurative, the perfection to which Christ has called us all ? But this is not my theme, and I leave it. I wish rather to suggest inquiry and awaken thoughtfulness, as to the kind of man, which the state, the church, and the age, raost need ; and the manner in which they ought to weigh the worth of their teachers and helpers. This let us attempt to answer in two com prehensive particulars. First, we need men of Religious Principle. Let this be put first, as the foundation, though it is usually named last, as the crown. It must be the foundation. On no other can a structure be reared, which will stand fast amid the storms of human passion, the winds and waves of human opinion, the war of ambition and imagined interest. On no other, indeed, can a structure be reared, which will secure the confidence, or hold long the admiration, even of the world. This we are fain to believe, notwithstanding the perverseness and wickedness of the world. It is evidence at once of God's will and man's nature, that man seldom yields spontaneous and continued admiration, a universal cordial rever ence, to any thing but religious principle ; or, at least, to any thing else so absolutely and perma nently. There is a shout for the warrior, there is a wreath for the victor, there is a show of homage for the man of wealth, and a supple knee for the pos sessor of power, and childish adulation of dazzling intellect or erratic genius. But none of these are so deep or abiding, as the respect and regard, if nothing more, rendered to high and consistent Principle. Yet though you believe and could prove the opposite fact, all the more do we need the principle. Show that there is little of it either in the nature or char acter of man, show that where it appears it is lightly valued, you only prove that we must return to it, or perish. This is a self-evident truth. If there is a God, supreme, just, and good, obedience to his law is the only greatness and the only happiness. If any thing can save us, in this age and nation, from ruin ous views of greatness and happiness, it is religious principle, living and acting in public and private men. Men of truth, we must have ; to whom a lie, of any shape, color, or purpose, is an abhorrence and an impossibility. Men of righteousness, we must have ; to whom a wrong deed, known or unknown, for a mean or a mighty end, is a sin against God and humanity. Men of purity, we want ; whose char acter, in domestic, civil, and, not least, Christian relations and offices, shall be both unsullied and un suspected. Men of morality, we want ; of integrity, sobriety, manly courage, moral independence, impar tial justice, large but not indiscriminate mercy and charity, humble but immoveable uprightness. And with all, perhaps more than all now, we want men of Christian Moderation, Christian, I say — which excludes from the idea of moderation all tameness, supineness, cowardice, and mere policy. Christian moderation is principle, not policy ; deliberation, not passion ; temperance, and not violence ; kindness, never abuse. It supposes patience, perseverance, meekness, firmness, the temper of justice to all, even the erring and rash, with the spirit of faith, supreme and absolute faith, in God and the gospel. We want reformers, but only as Christian regenerators. We want patriots, but only as Christian philanthropists. We want Christians ; disciples of Christ himself, and of no other, priest, prelate, or pope. We want man ifest, consistent, fearless followers of Jesus, in prin ciple and life ; breathing his spirit, obeying as well as admitting his precepts, applying his law every where and trusting it always, standing firmly and serenely on his gospel, though the country, the earth, and the world, sink beneath their feet. Again — as the other suggestion, for which alone we have room — we want men of Mind. It is essen tial to man's greatness and happiness, that he reli giously regard, and improve to the utmost of his power, that faculty, which, in him, and him only, is improveable without limit. Can the power or value of a man be estimated, with little or no reference to mind .'' Can duty, obligation, even salvation, be viewed as wholly separate from mind .'' Yes, if those words mean nothing more than the absence of wrong, and escape from condemnation. Of course there may be religion in the heart, where there is little in the understanding. There may be acceptableness and happiness, wdth no unusual power or culture of the intellect. This we cannot be supposed to ques tion. Nor do we deny, that men of ordinary minds, with no pretension to learning or mental force, but with decided moral character, may be useful, some times powerful men. We need such men, and we thank them. More thanks do they deserve, and a truer greatness belongs to them, than to those of the strongest intellect and largest attainment, who do nothing for others, or nothing for the soul. But no 8 admission of this kind can lessen the duty or glory of intellectual culture. A man of mind is a man of power. He holds a sceptre, whose kingdom is the world and the ages. He fills a throne, before which all other thrones and sovereigns have trembled. He speaks — and the multitude are moved and swayed, as by a mighty wind. He writes — and his thought goes to every mind, his heart touches every heart, in the universe. Such an one is a potentate, ordained of God, holding rule by divine right, and all the more subject to divine law. In harmony with that law, his mind is strength, greatness, and blessing incomparable. In neglect or infraction of that law, it is a curse immeasurable. No age, scarcely a land, has needed more than ours, men of enlightened and enlarged mind. We need them in every province. We need them in science ; where so much is yet to be learned, bearing upon religion and the whole of life. We need them in literature ; where with much that is instructive and pure, a great proportion of that which is new, and we fear most read, is worthless or worse ; show ing no power of mind in the creation, nor requiring or strengthening any in the use. We need them in government; a noble science, calling for intellect, comprehension, and wisdom, in all its departments ; whether it pertain to the grandeur of law and jus tice, to the intercourse of nations, the interests and conflicts of individuals, the use and abuse of liberty, or that which is expressed by the dubious term, politics. This whole province is filled and jostled by men of mere action, often hasty and angry action. proverbially selfish and sectional, where we want reflection, study, maturity, enlargement of view, soundness and variety of knowledge. Against all the error and danger of a hard conservatism on the one hand, and wild fanaticism on the other, nothing will so surely avail, as the calm power of intelligent, decided, and elevated minds. Do we need them less in religion ? Oh, for their presence and power, to arrest or soften this perpetual war of opinions, this miserable jealousy and rivalry of sects — enough to make any one who is half a man, hide his face in very shame. Let powerful and unsparing minds, clergy or laity, reprove and lash us into a sense of the madness of contending for every thing else, in religion, more than for religion itself in our own souls and all lives. We want fewer dogmatists, and more theologians, of every name. We want neither sectarists nor ultraists ; but Christian scholars, Chris tian teachers ; apt to teach, and willing to learn ; men of mind ; giving their high powers to the ac quiring and difiiising of that knowledge, which will make wise unto salvation. Within the space of three weeks, there have passed from the world three minds, possessing each some of the traits which we have just drawn. The close of that day which witnessed the burial of John Quincy Adams in his native town, witnessed also the death of Henry Wheaton in a neighboring vil lage. And on the following day, the spirit of Am brose Spencer, of New York, took its flight from its venerable tenement. The first and the last of 2 10 these had lived more than fourscore years, covering the whole history of our national existence, Thfey had finished their work, a work of no common mag nitude ; and calmly they awaited the messenger of release. With the other, it was differently ordered. Age had not bowed his frame, nor had he or others reason to expect his speedy departure. He too had done a great work ; too great for the feeble body, until by imperceptible degrees it had worn out, the springs of life failed, heaviness came upon the spirit, and silently it departed. Apparently in the midst of life and usefulness, Henry Wheaton has followed the many, who, during the present season, have passed from earthly eminence to the bar of God. It is fit that he be remembered here. In the place of his birth, among kindred and friends who loved and honored him, near the College which nurtured him as a son and has since conferred upon him its highest distinction, in a church whose household of faith he early entered — we cannot do less than offer a humble tribute to his memory. Other tributes, more extended and complete, may be expected from those better acquainted with his life and labors. Yet I cannot plead the absence of all personal knowledge. Beside recent opportunities, I had the good fortune, many years ago, to meet him several times in New York, and the impression of intellectual and moral power, which his conversation made upon my mind, has never faded. Since that time he has become the servant of the country, and none who have read the history of its government and growth, can be ignorant of the places he has filled, or the service he 11 has rendered. In the brief time allowed, I attempt only to give an outline of his life, and mark the most prominent features of the man, the scholar, the diplomatist, the civilian, and the Christian. Born in Providence, November 27th, 1785, Hen ry Wheaton passed his childhood here, entered Brown University at the early age of thirteen, grad uated in 1802, and engaging in the study of the law, went soon after to Europe. There he spent nearly two years in travel and culture, acquiring languages, enlarging his favorite study of history, and imbibing tastes, especially in the society of Mr. Monroe, then Minister in London, which probably determined his choice of pursuits for life. After his return, he removed to New York, where in 1812, a season of foreign and domestic warfare, he became the editor of the " National Advocate," a popular journal, which he is said to have conducted with ability and discretion during three years of peculiar responsibility. At this time also, he was made one of the Justices of the Marine Court, and in 1815 issued his first work, a Digest of Maritime Law ; said to be one of the ablest as well as earliest pro ductions of the kind in our country, and pronounced abroad, by the author of a recent work of similar character in Edinburgh, to be " very superior to any treatise on this department of the law, which had previously appeared in the English language," This is high commendation for one who had been but thirteen years from college, and had not seen the works of Kent, Story, and others, who have since written. In 1816, Mr. Whejaton was appointed 12 Reporter of the Decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States. This laborious office he held twelve years, publishing twelve volumes of Reports, whose fairness as well as thoroughness is acknowl edged, we believe, by all, and their value enhanced by copious notes of his own, which he was the first in this country to append. This work of superero gation exhibits a trait in the character of his mind, and shows his love of labor. It appears in many connections, and remarkably, it is said, in his Des patches from abroad, of which he wrote one every week, even when moving from place to place, or recreating, as with most men it would prove. Not content with communicating to his own government the intelligence which official duty required, he often added comprehensive views of the state and change of affairs in Europe. This was the great epoch of his life. He passed to it from the place in which we have just seen him as Reporter, having previ ously written, beside his volumes of Reports, an extended Life of William Pinkney, several discourses before historical and literary societies, and many articles in the North American Review ; holding, in the same period, a seat in the Legislature of New York, in the Convention for remodeling the Consti tution of that State, and in a special commission for revising its statutes. From these multiform labors, he was called in 1827, by that great man with whom he is so nearly connected in death, to enter upon his most public life as Charge d ^Affaires at the court of Denmark, There he continued seven years, during which he found time, with lesser productions fi-om 13 his ready pen, to write the " History of the North men," published both in London and this country in 1831, afterward translated into French with enlarge ment ; and a still more enlarged edition he was pre paring for the press when he died. From Copenha gen, he was transferred by President Jackson, in 1834, to Berlin, as Resident Minister, afterward raised to the rank of Minister Plenipotentiary, at the same court, by President Van Buren. Thus from three Presidents he received signal honors, not with drawn till 1846, by President Polk. Returning home the following year, he was gratefiilly welcomed by the country he had so ably represented, by the State and City which gave him birth, and by the Universities which had already distinguished him. By one of these he was called to his last office, on whose public duties he was never to enter. Ap pointed Lecturer on the Civil and International Law at Harvard University, he was able only to prepare one lecture for that new and responsible place, when the hand of disease was laid upon him, and he rested from his labors. He died in Dorchester, Massachusetts, on the night of the eleventh of the present month, in the sixty-third year of his age. A complete enumeration of his published writings is not here attempted. In a discourse, not intended for a regular biography or formal eulogy, but rather a religious commemoration, it will not be expected that I should go into a critical review of his writ ings, or a full delineation of his character. I speak of him particularly as a man — a true man, a religious man, an intellectual and faithfiil man. If such he 14 was, we may well recall the expressive words of the prophet, with which we began: "A man, more precious than fine gold ; even a man, than the golden wedge of Ophir," In the Christian view, and in the truly human, we shrink from the thought of weighing a man with gold, even the gold of Ophir. But so long as this shall be the world's great idol, and the standard by which all else is tried and stamped, there will be significance and power in the comparison. Henry Wheaton early recognised the distinctive faculties of his nature, and sedulously cultivated them to the last hour of conscious existence. He was a thinker. As a child, his first and favorite plaything was a book ; and play and work seemed always the same to him, inasmuch as reading was the only sport he wanted, and study was easier than most men's pastime. In college, he gave less time to the regular studies, than to general literature ; not neglecting the former, but less ambitious to excel in them, than to store his mind with various knowl edge, particularly in history. Then, and always perhaps, history may be said to have been his chosen pursuit ; and it is the judgment of a classmate, than whom no one knew him better, that when he gradu ated, at the age of seventeen, not a man there, student or teacher, was so thoroughly versed in his torical lore. To the light and passing literature of the day — for which literature is too good a name — he never gave his mind. Works of fiction and imag ination had little charm for him. Speculation and theory he did not love. For invention or fancy, he 15 was not distinguished. Even in the classics, he seems to have taken little interest, except as records of fact and truth. Fact he always sought. Truth he dearly prized. More precious to him than gold, he suffered no other wealth to divide his affection or divert his pursuit. Property, accomplishment, or fame, cannot be said to have been at any time his idol. To mere self-aggrandizement, and to all self- indulgence, he appears to have been as entire a stranger, as is often found in man, especially in pub lic life. Many as were his distinctions, no man, we imagine, supposed he sought them for his own ele vation, no one, we are sure, ever thought of them in his presence, unless as setting forth his own modesty and humility in the more striking relief. Simple in his manners, unostentatious always, habitually re served, and more than commonly silent, it was only when you called out his ready and fiirnished mind, on his favorite themes, that you felt its peculiar power, and ceased to wonder at his eminence at home and abroad. Not a genius, as the world uses that ill-fated word, not dazzling or eloquent, never polishing himself or his writings merely to make them attractive, he was clear, thorough, laborious, retentive, and ever willing to communicate ; a most rapid reader,- mastering a book, though to appearance only turning hastily its leaves ; a rapid writer, be cause attempting only that to which he was compe tent, and seeking only to put the truth and fact in the clearest light. His style was never ornate, but always lucid. His thought was solid, rather than brilliant. But whatever may be thought of native 16 power or comparative eminence, he has won for him self a distinction among the illustrious of the age. His name is enrolled in places that might satisfy the highest ambition; it has been familiar in the first courts and honored by the first minds in Europe ; it is found in connection with Grotius, Puffendorf, and Vattel, and it may be seen on the tablet of an Insti tute in France, which bears but two other American names ; and what is remarkable, the only question there raised, is said to have been, in which of two departments his name should be entered — History or Jurisprudence. The French " Courier of the United States," published in New York, speaks of Mr. Wheaton, in its notice of his death, as a " mind most active and universal ; one of the best informed men that the new world has possessed ; a man of profound knowledge and an indefatigable laborer, who has died after a life well filled, but too short for his country and for humanity." No, not the last. That is more than man may say. It is more than we feel. His life was not short, but long, for the very reason that it was well filled. Too short indeed for friendship and affection, but not separated from these even now, nor ever can be. His work was done, and well done. Shall we say, he could have done much more, had he lived longer ? How do we know that ? Were it true — had aught remained to be done essential to him or to us, he would not have seen yet " the last of earth." Such a work is never unfinished, save that it is still going on. How can it stop, when it belongs to the Mind.? Its sphere is changed by death, its form 17 and application are different, but its nature and real ity the same. Love of truth, thirst for knowledge, adoration of God, and the study of his works in all places of his dominion, can never cease. The good and the true leave the body, but leave not themselves, or those who are as themselves. In many ways, their works do follow them, and contribute still to their happiness and ours. For the spirit itself, for God who gave and still feeds it, for all who have communed with it here and taken it up into their being, for children and children's children — all that is true endures, all that is good lives and acts. He whom we mourn, we believe, was true and good. With moderation and humility should we speak, in the house of God or anywhere, of frail humanity. We bring no panegyric here. From nothing would he have more recoiled. As we re member his meekness, as we revere his truthfulness, as we know that he may hear us now — and that One who is over all, does hear — let us be moderate. But we will also be just. We have spoken of him as a thinker and scholar. It is for others to present him as a civilian and diplomatist. His two principal works, on International Law, and the Law of Na tions, have received the approval of the first minds in Europe and America, and are regarded as author ity. The subjects of which they treat are of the first importance, involving the great questions of peace and war, the foundation, the necessity, and the rightfiil extent of government. On aU these points, we suppose Mr. Wheaton to have occupied the ground of a wise conservatism, in the spirit of a 3 18 generous freeddtn, and a due regard to popular rights. Much of his time abroad was passed in France, and when recalled from Prussia, it was supposed he would be continued in Paris as minister there. Had he lived one week longer, the tidings of another revolution in that fated city and country would have reached him ; tidings, which have drawn from many the remark, that no minister in Europe would have been looked to with greater confidence, or consulted vdth more deference, in such emergency, than he. This opinion is confirmed by all we hear of his repu tation and influence abroad, through the twenty years of his diplomatic course ; a term of office, long as it was beyond almost any other, not only sustain ed and adorned throughout by large learning and sound discretion, but wholly unsullied by the low cunning and petty intrigue, which commonly enter into the idea of diplomacy. We honor the man, who has both the disposition and the courage to show, that national honor does not depend on intrigue, that true patriotism can never require bravado, stratagem, or the slightest departure from strict veracity. We thank every countryman, who maintains his purity, simplicity, and honesty, in foreign courts, and amid all temptations. This belongs to the other and last characteristic of Henry Wheaton, on which we can dwell — the moral and religious aspect. We have said we would be just, in this regard, as we desire to be always, whether for or against. But simple duty requires us to say, that no observation or inquiry has brought to our knowledge a single reason for withholding from 19 this part of his character, distinct and unqualified commendation. On the contrary, there is delightful testimony to an unusual degree of purity, integrity, conscientiousness, and unvarying, inflexible truth. Not a single departure from either of these, his inti mate associates say, has been known or ever sus pected. His childhood, his youth, his college life, seem to have been marked by entire abstinence, as weU from the follies and vices, as from the sports and amusements of his age. From the last, his ab stinence may have been an error and injury. But from the other, no abstinence can be excessive. From evil, and all appearance of evil, nature, prefer ence, and principle withheld him. An impure word was never heard from his lips, but often restrained by his presence. A harsh word or unkind, those who have lived with him most, cannot recall. Of how many can these things be said, after threescore years of busy, exposed, anxious, and often troubled life ? Does it indicate no moral or religious princi ple .'' Would you place above it, as proof of such principle, any opinions, in the absence of this pure morality and scrupulous virtue ? The religious opinions of Mr. Wheaton were early formed and never changed. There was a brief period of his youth, as with many, when he was perplexed and anxious in regard to Christian evi dence, doctrine, and duty ; nor were those wanting, who would have drawn him away from all faith. But he listened to such whisperers, only to silence or shun them. He waited, only to examine and decide for himself. The result was a firm and firmer con- 20 viction of the truth, the beauty, majesty, and neces sity of religion. Like Adams, in private and public life, he was a student of the Scriptures. Like Adams, he was conversant with theology and con troversy, enough to enlighten and settle his own convictions. Like Adams, he was a believer in the simple unity of God, the supremacy of the Father, the divine mission of the Son, the influence and need of the holy spirit. He was a Unitarian. He once said, that he believed he had read almost all that had been written in support of the opposite faith, but could not receive it. Yet he was no dog matist, no sectarian. Respect for all honest opinion, regard for all Christian believers and good men, were first principles with him. He obtruded upon none his own views, he assailed none, nor suspected, be cause of difference. He could not be guilty of that pitifiil interference with others' faith, that suspicious ness and censoriousness, which betoken a small mind and doubtfiil humility. A founder of the first Unitarian Church in New York, and a communicant there, a frequent worshipper and partaker in the liberal " Reformed Church of Paris," where he be came strongly attached to that eminent preacher, Coquerel, he yet looked far more to the religion of the heart and life, than to that of the creed or form. In a word, we believe he endeavored, alike in hu mility and charity, to form in his own soul, and carry into every part of conduct and character, that Reli gious Principle, which we have named as the great element of power, usefulness, and happiness. 21 Why, let us ask in conclusion, why is there so little of this high principle, in men of public station ? Why is its prominence, at least, so rare in profes sional and political life, as to be considered a dis tinction ? Why are those who are most eminent for legal, civil, or literary attainments, so seldom found in the church of Christ — not merely occasional wor shippers, or pecuniary supporters, or professed admir ers, but open disciples, and consistent followers, of the Son of God ? Why are our merchant princes, and powerfiil capitalists, and prominent legislators, so little known as prominent Christians ? Are they ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, or afraid of its restraint, or doubtfiil of its truth, or indifferent to its obligation and retribution ? With the widest charity, and the most generous hope, it is difficult to see, that Christianity holds any thing like its rightful empire, in personal, domestic, or public character. The reli gion of the church is low enough, of professor and priest. Catholic and Protestant ; but the religion of the mart and the forum, of the bar and the senate, of the court and the camp, wears scarcely a faint resemblance to Christ and the Gospel. The public mind seems hardly conscious of allegiance to Christ. Public opinion does not profess to be Christian. The governments of the earth are as independent of the government of God, as of each other's rule. The morality and piety of avowed Christians do not reach, or often attempt to reach, the prevalent evils, the fashionable vices, the glaring iniquities of the world. There is faith among us, but it is timid, silent, and barren. We suffer, not so much from theological, as from practical infidelity. In every church, there is more of truth and duty urged, than the hearers and members live up to, or even strive to observe. Honor to the man, of whatever name, who does strive to be a Christian ! Honor to the civilian, who aims to bring human law into harmony with the divine ! Honor to the statesman, the magistrate, the minister of justice, the representative at home, the ambassa dor abroad, who seeks in all to be a Christian man, living and dying in the faith and spirit of Jesus ! Friends of Jesus, of every name, come to the work. We want the spirit and the power of Chris tianity. We want a public Christian character, and a private Christian Manliness. We pant for a reli gion, which, like its God, is no respecter of persons, nor dwelleth alone in this mountain nor yet at Jeru salem, but dwelleth everywhere. We ask for a charity and piety, which shall bind all the good in one band, and lead them to the spiritual vvarfare. We pray for a Faith, which shall reach our highest councils, and sanctify our humblest homes. It was a saying of Cato, that " he considered an honest husband, higher than a great senator." And if an honest husband, how much more a Christian man in every relation ! O, for men of prayer, of faith, of religious principle that gold cannot purchase, and religious speech that fear or power cannot silence. O, for men of mind and morals, consecrated to truth and duty, to law and love, to Christ and humanity. That so, in the words of our departed brother, the last words of his last public discourse, so ably writ- 23 ten, but feebly uttered, in this city, there may be seen and cherished, " an ever-growing desire for happiness, which seeks its gratification, not in the enjoyments of sense, but in the cultivation of our intellectual and moral nature."