Part 8

BY WILLIAM M. EVARTS

The Declaration of Independence was, when it occurred, a capital transaction in human affairs; as such it has kept its place in history; as such it will maintain itself while human interest in human institutions shall endure. The scene and the actors, for their profound impression on the world, at the time and ever since, have owed nothing to dramatic effects, nothing to epical exaggerations. To the eye there was nothing wonderful or vast or splendid or pathetic in the movement or the display. Imagination or art can give no sensible grace or decoration to the persons, the place, or the performance which made up the business of that day. The worth and force that belong to the agents and the action rest wholly on the wisdom, the courage and the faith that formed and executed the great design, and the potency and permanence of its operation upon the affairs of the world which followed as foreseen and legitimate consequences.

The dignity of the act is the deliberate, circumspect, open and serene performance by these men, in the clear light of day and by a concurrent purpose, of a civic duty which embraced the greatest hazards to themselves and to all the people from whom they held this disputed discretion but which to their sober judgments promised benefits to that people and to their posterity, exceeding these hazards and commensurate with its own fitness. The question of their conduct is to be measured by the actual weight and pressure of the manifold considerations which surrounded the subject before them and by the abundant evidence that they comprehended their vastness and variety. By a voluntary and responsible choice they willed to do what was done and what without their will would not have been done.

Thus estimated, the illustrious act covers all who participated in it with its own renown and makes them forever conspicuous among men, as it is forever famous among events. And thus the signers of our Declaration of Independence “wrote their names where all nations should behold them and all time should not efface them.” It was “in the course of human events” intrusted to them to determine whether the fullness of time had come when a nation should be born in a day. They declared the independence of a new nation in the sense in which men declare emancipation or declare war,—the declaration created what was declared.

Famous always among men are the founders of states and fortunate above all others in such fame are these, our fathers, whose combined wisdom and courage began the great structure of our national existence and laid sure the foundations of liberty and justice on which it rests. Fortunate first in the clearness of their title and in the world’s acceptance of their rightful claim. Fortunate next in the enduring magnitude of the State they founded and the beneficence of its protection of the vast interests of human life and happiness which have here had their home. Fortunate again in the admiring imitations of their work which the institutions of the most powerful and most advanced nations more and more exhibit. Fortunate last of all in the full demonstration of our later time that their work is adequate to withstand the most disastrous storms of human fortunes and survive unwrecked, unshaken and unharmed.

THE CHARACTER OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

BY GEORGE BANCROFT

This immortal State paper, which for its composer was the aurora of enduring fame, was “the genuine effusion of the soul of the country at that time,” the revelation of its mind, when, in its youth, its enthusiasm, its sublime confronting of danger, it rose to the highest creative powers of which man is capable. The bill of rights which it promulgates is of rights that are older than human institutions, and spring from the eternal justice that is anterior to the State.

Two political theories divided the world: one founded the Commonwealth on the reason of State, the policy of expediency; the other on the immutable principles of morals. The new Republic, as it took its place among the powers of the world, proclaimed its faith in the truth and reality and unchangeableness of freedom, virtue and right.

The heart of Jefferson, in writing the Declaration, and of Congress in adopting it, beat for all humanity; the assertion of right was made for the entire world of mankind, and all coming generations, without any exception whatever; for the proposition which admits of exceptions can never be self-evident. As it was put forth in the name of the ascendant people of that time, it was sure to make the circuit of the world, passing everywhere through the despotic countries of Europe; and the astonished nations, as they read that all men are created equal, started out of their lethargy, like those who have been exiles from childhood, when they suddenly hear the dimly remembered accents of their mother tongue.

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

BY HENRY T. RANDALL

To the Patriots, the Declaration gave strength and courage. It gave them a definite purpose,—and a name and object commensurate with the cost. When it was formally read by the magistracy from the halls of justice and in the public marts by the officers of the army at the head of their divisions, by the clergy from their pulpits, its grandeur impressed the popular imagination. The American people pronounced it a fit instrument, clothed in fitting words. The public enthusiasm burst forth, sometimes in gay and festive, and sometimes in solemn and religious, observances—as the Cavalier or Puritan taste predominated.

In the Southern and Middle cities and villages, the riotous populace tore down the images of monarchs and Colonial governors and dragged them with ropes round their necks through the streets—cannon thundered, bonfires blazed—the opulent feasted, drank toasts, and joined in hilarious celebrations. In New England, the grimmer joy manifested itself in prayers and sermons, and in religious rites.

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

BY JOHN QUINCY ADAMS

The Declaration of Independence! The interest which in that paper has survived the occasion upon which it was issued; the interest which is of every age and every clime; the interest which quickens with the lapse of years, spreads as it grows old, and brightens as it recedes, is in the principles which it proclaims. It was the first solemn declaration, by a nation, of the only legitimate foundation of civil government. It was the corner stone of a new fabric, destined to cover the surface of the globe. It demolished at a stroke the lawfulness of all governments founded upon conquest. It swept away all the rubbish of accumulated centuries of servitude. It announced in practical form to the world the transcendent truth of the inalienable sovereignty of the people. It proved that the social compact was no figment of the imagination, but a real, solid, and sacred bond of the social union. From the day of this declaration the people of North America were no longer the fragment of a distant empire, imploring justice and mercy from an inexorable master in another hemisphere. They were no longer children, appealing in vain to the sympathies of a heartless mother; no longer subjects, leaning upon the shattered columns of royal promises, and invoking the faith of parchment to secure their rights. They were a nation, asserting as of right, and maintaining by war, its own existence. A nation was born in a day.

“How many ages hence Shall this, their lofty scene, be acted o’er In states unborn, and accents yet unknown?”

It will be acted o’er, but it never can be repeated. It stands, and must forever stand, alone; a beacon on the summit of the mountain, to which all the inhabitants of the earth may turn their eyes for a genial and saving light, till time shall be lost in eternity, and this globe itself dissolves, nor leave a wreck behind. It stands forever, a light of admonition to the rulers of men, a light of salvation and redemption to the oppressed. So long as this planet shall be inhabited by human beings, so long as man shall be of social nature, so long as government shall be necessary to the great moral purposes of society, so long as it shall be abused to the purposes of oppression—so long shall this Declaration hold out to the sovereign and to the subject the extent and boundaries of their respective rights and duties, founded in the laws of nature and of nature’s God.

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE[7]

BY TUDOR JENKS

“What is the most dramatic incident in American history and why?”

The emphatic and determining word in this question is the adverb “most.” To answer conclusively, the method must be comparative; it is not enough to stir the emotions of patriotism, to excite the imagination of the poetic soul, to depict with skill bygone scenes so that they live again. The intellectual faculties must be satisfied that the chosen incident is truly an incident, that it is dramatic, and that it is more dramatic than all others in our history.

Definition seems but a poor prelude to the drama, but as the defender of the Constitution began his reply to Hayne by asking for the reading of the resolution before the Senate, it may be permissible to refer to the dictionary for guidance, as the storm-tossed mariner of Webster’s metaphor glanced at the sun to rectify his course.

“Incident,” as used in the given question, can mean only “something which takes place in connection with an event or series of events of greater importance” (Century Dictionary), since any broader meaning of the word would be too inclusive, and might permit the naming of a whole epoch.

“Dramatic” (by the same author) is “characterized by the force and animation in act or expression appropriate to the drama.” Force and animation may of course be psychical or physical; but if psychical they must find expression in some form appreciable by the senses, else they are not dramatic.

Bearing these guiding principles in mind, let us see in what moment of American history we shall find that incident so connected with greater events, and so expressed as to be “The most dramatic”—that incident toward which all preceding events led, and from which subsequent events have sprung. Let us then select as expressing that incident the most forceful and animated action that would be appropriate to dramatic representation.

The periods of American history are the traditionary, that of discovery and exploration, that of colonization. These three are preparatory, and “American” only in a geographical sense. Then come the period of revolution, that of nationality and rebellion and finally the present—which may be called the period of expansion, since it marks for good or for evil the birth of the nation as a world power.

These periods group naturally into two great classes: I. America as an appanage of Europe. II. America as independent. The transition from one existence to the other took place in an instant of time. Before the Declaration of Independence our nation did not exist; once that document was ratified, the United States was created a nation.

Here, then, is the dividing of the ways; here the act of divine creation of which our forefathers were but the human instruments. This is the one universally celebrated and commemorated moment in our history—the birth of “a new nation conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”

The great Civil war was but the test whether that nation could endure; so said Lincoln, whom we are learning to know as our greatest statesman. All our subsequent history is but the voyage of the ship of state by the chart then drafted.

Toward the Declaration converge all previous lines of historical development; from the Declaration diverge all the lines along which patriotic statesmanship must hereafter guide the national future. Deviations from these converging and diverging paths have been but blind trails to be painfully retraced.

Here, then, let us repeat, is the focus of our national life.

In what act, in what incident shall we find this moment of time expressed most dramatically?

The streets of Philadelphia were thronged with citizens awaiting news of the action of Congress. Within the old State House were the councilors of the colonies—the group of contemporaries whom Gladstone declared unequaled in the history of the world. One by one the names of the representatives were signed to that document which was to commit them to death as rebels or to immortality as patriots.

As the last name was affixed, a little boy ran from the doorway out into the street, and, tossing his arms above his head, gave forth the tidings of a nation’s birth in the words:

“Ring! _Ring!_ RING!”

and then the Liberty Bell echoed the gospel, as foreordained in its inscription: “Proclaim liberty to the land: to all the inhabitants thereof.”

That is the most dramatic incident in American history.

Whether we view its inception or its outcome, it stands unrivaled. We shall forever “celebrate it with thanksgiving” so long as the nation endures.

This incident responds to every test. It is the action of a single person actuated by intense emotion; he, a child, was a type of the fact he expressed; through his puny action began the independent life of a nation to whose future none dares prescribe limits.

Discovery and colonization were inevitable, and are common to all lands. Civil wars are expressions rather than causes of great crises. Civil and commercial progress are inevitable. But the Declaration of Independence was an act of conscious choice.

No other incident in our history was so momentous, none so dramatic and comprehensive of past and future.

Columbus was an unconscious instrument in opening a new world; the Spanish, French, Dutch, and English explorers were all working toward a consummation none foresaw; the founders of colonies had their ideals, but all have been swallowed up in our national development. The Revolution alone looked both backward and forward, and the fathers of the republic gave us the law of our national being.

The birth-cry of the nation came from the lips of the child who cried aloud in the streets:

“Ring! _Ring!_ RING!”

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE IN THE LIGHT OF MODERN CRITICISM[8]

BY MOSES COIT TYLER

(Professor of History in Cornell University.)

I

It can hardly be doubted that some hindrance to a right estimate of the Declaration of Independence is occasioned by either of two opposite conditions of mind, both of which are often to be met with among us; on the one hand, a condition of hereditary, uncritical awe and worship of the American Revolution, and of that state paper as its absolutely perfect and glorious expression; on the other hand, a later condition of cultivated distrust of the Declaration, as a piece of writing lifted up into inordinate renown by the passionate and heroic circumstances of its origin, and ever since then extolled beyond reason by the blind energy of patriotic enthusiasm. Turning from the former state of mind, which obviously calls for no further comment, we may note, as a partial illustration of the latter, that American confidence in the supreme intellectual merit of this all-famous document received a serious wound some forty years ago from the hand of Rufus Choate, when, with a courage greater than would now be required for such an act, he characterized it as made up of “glittering and sounding generalities of natural right.” What the great advocate then so unhesitatingly suggested, many a thoughtful American since then has at least suspected—that our great proclamation, as a piece of political literature, cannot stand the test of modern analysis; that it belongs to the immense class of over-praised productions; that it is, in fact, a stately patchwork of sweeping propositions of somewhat doubtful validity; that it has long imposed upon mankind by the well-known effectiveness of verbal glitter and sound; that, at the best, it is an example of florid political declamation belonging to the sophomoric period of our national life, a period which, as we flatter ourselves, we have now outgrown.

Nevertheless, it is to be noted that whatever authority the Declaration of Independence has acquired in the world, has been due to no lack of criticism, either at the time of its first appearance, or since then; a fact which seems to tell in favor of its essential worth and strength. From the date of its original publication down to the present moment, it has been attacked again and again, either in anger, or in contempt, by friends as well as by enemies of the American Revolution, by liberals in politics as well as by conservatives. It has been censured for its substance, it has been censured for its form, for its misstatements of fact, for its fallacies in reasoning, for its audacious novelties and paradoxes, for its total lack of all novelty, for its repetition of old and threadbare statements, even for its downright plagiarisms; finally, for its grandiose and vaporing style.

II

One of the earliest and ablest of its assailants was Thomas Hutchinson, the last civil governor of the colony of Massachusetts, who, being stranded in London by the political storm which had blown him thither, published there, in the autumn of 1776, his “Strictures upon the Declaration of the Congress at Philadelphia,” wherein, with an unsurpassed knowledge of the origin of the controversy, and with an unsurpassed acumen in the discussion of it, he traverses the entire document, paragraph by paragraph, for the purpose of showing that its allegations in support of American Independence are “false and frivolous.”

A better written, and, upon the whole, a more plausible and a more powerful arraignment of the great Declaration was the celebrated pamphlet by Sir John Dalrymple, “The Rights of Great Britain Asserted against the Claims of America: Being an Answer to the Declaration of the General Congress,”—a pamphlet scattered broadcast over the world at such a rate that at least eight editions of it were published during the last three or four months of the year, 1776. Here, again, the manifesto of Congress is subjected to a searching examination, in order to prove that “the facts are either willfully or ignorantly misrepresented, and the arguments deduced from premises that have no foundation in truth.” It is doubtful if any disinterested student of history, any competent judge of reasoning, will now deny to this pamphlet the praise of making out a very strong case against the historical accuracy and the logical soundness of many parts of the Declaration of Independence.

Undoubtedly, the force of such censures is for us much broken by the fact that they proceeded from men who were themselves partisans in the Revolutionary controversy, and bitterly hostile to the whole movement which the Declaration was intended to justify. Such is not the case, however, with the leading modern English critics of the same document, who while blaming in severe terms the policy of the British Government toward the Thirteen Colonies, have also found much to abate from the confidence due to this official announcement of the reasons for our secession from the empire. For example, Earl Russell, after frankly saying that the great disruption proclaimed by the Declaration of Independence was a result which Great Britain had “used every means most fitted to bring about,” such as “vacillation in council, harshness in language, feebleness in execution, disregard of American sympathies and affections,” also pointed out that “the truth of this memorable Declaration” was “warped” by “one singular defect,” namely, its exclusive and excessive arraignment of George the Third, “as a single and despotic tyrant,” much like Philip the Second to the people of the Netherlands.

This temperate criticism from an able and a liberal English statesman of the present century may be said to touch the very core of the problem as to the historic justice of our great indictment of the last King of America; and there is deep significance in the fact that this is the very criticism upon the document, which, as John Adams tells us, he himself had in mind when it was first submitted to him in committee, and even, when, shortly afterward, he advocated its adoption by Congress. After mentioning certain things in it with which he was delighted, he adds:

“There were other expressions which I would not have inserted if I had drawn it up—particularly that which called the king tyrant. I thought this too personal; for I never believed George to be a tyrant in disposition and in nature. I always believed him to be deceived by his courtiers on both sides of the Atlantic, and in his official capacity only cruel. I thought the expression too passionate, and too much like scolding, for so grave and solemn a document; but, as Franklin and Sherman were to inspect it afterwards I thought it would not become me to strike it out. I consented to report it.”

A more minute and a more poignant criticism of the Declaration of Independence has been made in recent years by still another English writer of liberal tendencies, who, however, in his capacity as critic, seems here to labor under the disadvantage of having transferred to the document which he undertakes to judge much of the extreme dislike which he has for the man who wrote it, whom, indeed, he regards as a sophist, as a demagogue, as quite capable of inveracity in speech, and as bearing some resemblance to Robespierre “in his feline nature, his malignant egotism, and his intense suspiciousness, as well as in his bloody-minded, yet possibly sincere, philanthropy.” In the opinion of Prof. Goldwin Smith, our great national manifesto is written “in a highly rhetorical strain; it opens with sweeping aphorisms about the natural rights of man, at which political science now smiles, and which ... might seem strange when framed for slave-holding communities by a publicist who himself held slaves”; while, in his specifications of fact, it “is not more scrupulously truthful than are the general utterances” of the statesman who was its scribe. Its charges that the several offensive acts of the king, besides “evincing a design to reduce the colonists under absolute despotism,” “all had as their direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny,” are simply “propositions which history cannot accept.” Moreover, the Declaration “blinks the fact that many of the acts, styled steps of usurpation, were measures of repression, which, however unwise or excessive, had been provoked by popular outrage. No government could allow its officers to be assaulted and their houses sacked, its loyal lieges to be tarred and feathered, or the property of merchants sailing under its flag to be thrown by lawless hands into the sea.” Even “the preposterous violence and the manifest insincerity of the suppressed clause” against slavery and the slave-trade “are enough to create suspicion as to the spirit in which the whole document was framed.”

III

Finally, as has been already intimated, not even among Americans themselves has the Declaration of Independence been permitted to pass on into the enjoyment of its superb renown, without much critical disparagement at the hands of statesmen and historians. No doubt Calhoun had its preamble in mind when he declared that “nothing can be more unfounded and false” than “the prevalent opinion that all men are born free and equal”; for “it rests upon the assumption of a fact which is contrary to universal observation.” Of course, all Americans who have shared to any extent in Calhoun’s doctrines respecting human society could hardly fail to agree with him in regarding as fallacious and worthless those general propositions in the Declaration which seem to constitute its logical starting point, as well as its ultimate defense.