Chapter 7

Perfect happiness, I believe, was never intended by the Deity to be the lot of one of his creatures in this world; but that he has very much put in our power the nearness of our approaches to it, is what I have steadfastly believed. The most fortunate of us, in our journey through life, frequently meet with calamities and misfortunes, which may greatly afflict us; and, to fortify our minds against the attacks of these calamities and misfortunes, should be one of the principal studies and endeavors of our lives. The only method of doing this is to assume a perfect resignation to the Divine will, to consider whatever does happen must happen; and that by our uneasiness, we cannot prevent the blow before it does fall, but we may add to its force after it has fallen. These considerations, and others such as these, may enable us in some measure to surmount the difficulties thrown in our way; to bear up with a tolerable degree of patience under this burthen of life; and to proceed with a pious and unshaken resignation, till we arrive at our journey's end, when we may deliver up our trust into the hands of him who gave it, and receive such reward as to him shall seem proportioned to our merit. Such, dear Page, will be the language of the man who considers his situation in this life, and such should be the language of every man who would wish to render that situation as easy as the nature of it will admit. Few things will disturb him at all; nothing will disturb him much.

SCENERY AT HARPER'S FERRY AND AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE.

(_From Notes on Virginia, written in 1781, published in 1801._)

The passage of the Patowmac through the Blue Ridge is perhaps one of the most stupendous scenes in nature. You stand on a very high point of land. On your right comes up the Shenandoah, having ranged along the foot of the mountain an hundred miles to seek a vent. On your left approaches the Patowmac, in quest of a passage also. In the moment of their junction they rush together against the mountain, rend it asunder, and pass off to the sea. The first glance of this scene hurries our senses into the opinion, that this earth has been created in time, that the mountains were formed first, that the rivers began to flow afterwards, that in this place particularly they have been damned up by the Blue ridge of mountains, and have formed an ocean which filled the whole valley; that continuing to rise they have at length broken over at this spot, and have torn the mountain down from its summit to its base. The piles of rock on each hand, but particularly on the Shenandoah, the evident marks of their disrupture and avulsion from their beds by the most powerful agents of nature, corroborate the impression. But the distant finishing which nature has given to the picture, is of a very different character. It is a true contrast to the foreground. It is as placid and delightful, as that is wild and tremendous. For the mountain being cloven asunder, she presents to your eye, through the cleft, a small catch of smoothe blue horizon, at an infinite distance in the plain country, inviting you, as it were, from the riot and tumult roaring around, to pass through the breach and participate of the calm below. . . . . . . . .

The Natural Bridge, the most sublime of nature's works, . . . is on the ascent of a hill, which seems to have been cloven through its length by some great convulsion. The fissure, just at the bridge, is, by some admeasurements, 270 feet deep, by others only 205. It is about 45 feet wide at the bottom, and 90 feet at the top; this of course determines the length of the bridge, and its height from the water. Its breadth in the middle, is about 60 feet, but more at the ends, and the thickness of the mass, at the summit of the arch, about 40 feet. A part of this thickness is constituted by a coat of earth, which gives growth to many large trees. The residue, with the hill on both sides, is one solid rock of lime-stone.

The arch approaches the semi-elliptical form; but the larger axis of the ellipsis, which would be the cord of the arch, is many times longer than the transverse. Though the sides of this bridge are provided in some parts with a parapet of fixed rocks, yet few men have the resolution to walk to them, and look over into the abyss. You involuntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the parapet, and peep over it. Looking down from this height about a minute, gave me a violent head-ach.

If the view from the top be painful and intolerable, that from below is delightful in an equal extreme. It is impossible for the emotions arising from the sublime, to be felt beyond what they are here: so beautiful an arch, so elevated, so light, and springing as it were up to heaven! the rapture of the spectator is really indescribable! The fissure continuing narrow, deep, and straight, for a considerable distance above and below the bridge, opens a short but very pleasing view of the North mountain on one side, and Blue ridge on the other, at the distance each of them of about five miles. This bridge is in the county of Rockbridge, to which it has given name, and affords a public and commodious passage over a valley, which cannot be crossed elsewhere for a considerable distance. The stream passing under it is called Cedar-creek.

ON FREEDOM OF RELIGIOUS OPINION.

Compulsion makes hypocrites, not converts.

It is error alone that needs the support of government: truth can stand by itself.

ON THE DISCOURSES OF CHRIST.

Such are the fragments remaining to us to show a master-workman, and that his system of morality was the most benevolent and sublime that has ever been taught, and consequently more perfect than those of any of the ancient philosophy.

RELIGIOUS FREEDOM.

(_From an Act Passed in the Assembly of Virginia, 1786._)

Well aware that Almighty God hath created the mind free; that all attempts to influence it by temporal punishments or burdens, or by civil incapacitations, tend only to beget habits of hypocrisy and meanness, and are a departure from the plan of the Holy Author of our religion, who being Lord both of body and mind, yet chose not to propagate it by coercions on either, as was in his Almighty power to do; that the impious presumption of legislators and rulers, civil as well as ecclesiastical, who, being themselves but fallible and uninspired men, have assumed dominion over the faith of others, setting up their own opinions and modes of thinking as the only true and infallible, and as such endeavouring to impose them on others, hath established and maintained false religions over the greatest part of the world, and through all time; that to compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves, is sinful and tyrannical; . . . that to suffer the civil magistrate to intrude his powers into the field of opinion and to restrain the profession or propagation of principles, on the supposition of their ill tendency, is a dangerous fallacy, which at once destroys all religious liberty, because he being of course judge of that tendency, will make his opinions the rule of judgment, and approve or condemn the sentiments of others only as they shall square with or differ from his own; that it is time enough for the rightful purposes of civil government, for its officers to interfere when principles break out into overt acts against peace and good order; and finally, that truth is great and will prevail if left to herself, that she is the proper and sufficient antagonist to error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless by human interposition disarmed of her natural weapons, free argument and debate, errors ceasing to be dangerous when it is permitted freely to contradict them:

_Be it therefore enacted by the General Assembly_, That no man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, place or ministry whatsoever, nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burthened in his body or goods, nor shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion and that the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities.

LETTER TO HIS DAUGHTER, MARTHA JEFFERSON.

(_Written in France, May 21, 1787._)

I write you, my dear Patsy, from the canal of Languedoc, on which I am at present sailing, as I have been for a week past,--cloudless skies above, limpid waters below, and on each hand, a row of nightingales in full chorus. This delightful bird had given me a rich treat before, at the fountain of Vaucluse. After visiting the tomb of Laura, at Avignon, I went to see this fountain--a noble one of itself, and rendered forever famous by the songs of Petrarch, who lived near it. I arrived there somewhat fatigued, and sat down by the fountain to repose myself. It gushes, of the size of a river, from a secluded valley of the mountain, the ruins of Petrarch's château being perched on a rock two hundred feet perpendicular above. To add to the enchantment of the scene, every tree and bush was filled with nightingales in full song. I think you told me that you had not yet noticed this bird. As you have trees in the garden of the Convent [_in Paris, where Martha was at school_], there might be nightingales in them, and this is the season of their song. Endeavor, my dear, to make yourself acquainted with the music of this bird, that when you return to your own country you may be able to estimate its merit in comparison with that of the mocking-bird. The latter has the advantage of singing through a great part of the year, whereas the nightingale sings but about five or six weeks in the spring, and a still shorter term, and with a more feeble voice, in the fall.

I expect to be in Paris about the middle of next month. By that time we may begin to expect our dear Polly [_the younger daughter, Maria_] It will be a circumstance of inexpressible comfort to me to have you both with me once more. The object most interesting to me for the residue of my life, will be to see you both developing daily those principles of virtue and goodness which will make you valuable to others and happy in yourselves, and acquiring those talents and that degree of science which will guard you at all times against _ennui_, the most dangerous poison of life. A mind always employed is always happy. This is the true secret, the grand recipe, for felicity. The idle are the only wretched. In a world which furnishes so many employments which are useful, and so many which are amusing, it is our own fault if we ever know what _ennui_ is, or if we are ever driven to the miserable resource of gaming, which corrupts our dispositions, and teaches us a habit of hostility against all mankind.

We are now entering the port of Toulouse, where I quit my bark, and of course must conclude my letter. Be good and be industrious, and you will be what I shall most love in the world. Adieu, my dear child.

Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.

JEFFERSON'S LAST LETTER, IN ANSWER TO AN INVITATION TO BE PRESENT AT THE CELEBRATION OF THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE, IN WASHINGTON.--TO MR. WEIGHTMAN, MAYOR OF WASHINGTON.

MONTICELLO, _June 24, 1826_.

_Respected Sir:_ The kind invitation received from you, on the part of the citizens of the city of Washington, to be present with them at their celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of American Independence, as one of the surviving signers of an instrument pregnant with our own, and the fate of the world, is most flattering to myself, and heightened by the honorable accompaniment proposed for the comfort of such a journey. It adds sensibly to the sufferings of sickness, to be deprived by it of a personal participation in the rejoicing of that day. But acquiescence is a duty, under circumstances not placed among those we are permitted to control. I should, indeed, with peculiar delight, have met and exchanged there congratulations personally with the small band, the remnant of that host of worthies, who joined with us on that day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for our country, between submission or the sword; and to have enjoyed with them the consolatory fact, that our fellow-citizens, after half a century of experience and prosperity, continue to approve the choice we made. May it be to the world, what I believe it will be (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all), the signal of arousing men to burst the chains under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self-government. That form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. These are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day, forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

I will ask permission here to express the pleasure with which I should have met my ancient neighbors of the city of Washington and its vicinities, with whom I passed so many years of a pleasing social intercourse; an intercourse which so much relieved the anxieties of the public cares, and left impressions so deeply engraved in my affections as never to be forgotten. With my regret that ill health forbids me the gratification of an acceptance, be pleased to receive for yourself, and those for whom you write, the assurance of my highest respect and friendly attachments.

TH. JEFFERSON.

DAVID RAMSAY.

~1749=1815.~

DAVID RAMSAY was a native of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, was educated at Princeton, studied medicine at the University of Pennsylvania, and removed to Charleston, S. C., for the practice of his profession. He soon acquired celebrity both as a physician and as a patriot in the Revolutionary struggles. He was a member of the Council of Safety and a surgeon in the army. He was one of the forty prominent citizens who were sent as hostages to St. Augustine at the capture of Charleston in 1780 and kept for eleven months in close confinement. His death was caused by wounds received from a maniac, who shot him in the street for testifying as to his mental unsoundness.

His second wife was Martha Laurens, daughter of Henry Laurens, who had spent ten years in Europe and who was always active in intellectual and benevolent pursuits. She assisted her husband in his writing and prepared her sons for college. Two of their daughters long had an excellent and celebrated school for girls in Charleston.

WORKS.

Orations; Medical Essays. History of South Carolina. Life of Washington. Memoir of Martha L. Ramsay. Universal History Americanized (12 volumes.)

Dr. Ramsay holds a high place as a historian, being characterized by impartiality, a fine memory, a clear simple style, and a personal knowledge of many of the persons and events he describes.

SERMON ON TEA, (1775).

Touch not, taste not, handle not.

BRITISH TREATY WITH THE CHEROKEES, 1755.

(_From History of South Carolina._)

In the course of eighty years, or about the middle of the eighteenth century, the most valuable lands in the low country were taken up: and settlements were gradually progressing westwardly on favorite spots in the middle and upper country. The extinction of Indian claims by a cession of territory to the king, was necessary to the safety of the advancing settlers. This was obtained in 1755. In that year, Governor Glen met the Cherokee warriors in their own country, and held a treaty with them. After the usual ceremonies were ended, the governor made a speech to the assembled warriors in the name of his king; representing his great power, wealth, and goodness, and his particular regard for his children, the Cherokees. He reminded them of the happiness they had long enjoyed by living under his protection, and added, that he had many presents to make them and expected they would surrender a share of their territories in return. He informed them of the wicked designs of the French, and hoped they would permit none of them to enter their towns. He demanded lands to build two forts in their country, to protect them against their enemies, and to be a retreat to their friends and allies, who furnished them with arms, ammunition, hatchets, clothes, and everything that they wanted.

When the governor had finished his speech, Chulochcullak arose, and in answer spoke to the following effect:

"What I now speak, our father the great king should hear. We are brothers to the people of Carolina, one house covers us all." Then taking a boy by the hand, he presented him to the governor, saying, "We, our wives, and our children, are all children of the great king George; I have brought this child, that when he grows up he may remember our agreement on this day, and tell it to the next generation, that it may be known forever." Then opening his bag of earth, and laying the same at the governor's feet, he said: "We freely surrender a part of our lands to the great king. The French want our possessions, but we will defend them while one of our nation shall remain alive." Then delivering the governor a string of wampum, in confirmation of what he said, he added: "My speech is at an end--it is the voice of the Cherokee nation. I hope the governor will send it to the king, that it may be kept forever."

SERGEANT JASPER AT FORT MOULTRIE, _28th June, 1776_.

(_From the History of South Carolina._)

The loss of the garrison was ten men killed and twenty-two wounded. Lieutenants Hall and Gray were among the latter. Though there were many thousand shots fired from the shipping, yet the works were little damaged: those which struck the fort were ineffectually buried in its soft wood. Hardly a hut or tree on the island escaped.

When the British appeared off the coast, there was so scanty a stock of lead, that to supply the musketry with bullets, it became necessary to strip the windows of the dwelling-houses in Charleston of their weights. Powder was also very scarce. The proportion allotted for the defence of the fort was but barely sufficient for slow firing. This was expended with great deliberation. The officers in their turn pointed the guns with such exactness that most of their shot took effect. In the beginning of the action, the flag-staff was shot away. Sergeant Jasper of the Grenadiers immediately jumped on the beach, took up the flag and fastened it on a sponge-staff. With it in his hand he mounted the merlon; and, though the ships were directing their incessant broadsides at the spot, he deliberately fixed it. The day after the action, President Rutledge presented him with a sword, as a mark of respect for his distinguished valor. . . . .

On the third day after the action, the lady of Colonel Bernard Elliott presented an elegant pair of colors to the second regiment, which had so bravely defended Fort Moultrie. Her address on the occasion concluded thus: "I make not the least doubt, under heaven's protection, you will stand by these colors as long as they wave in the air of liberty." In reply a promise was made that "they should be honorably supported, and never should be tarnished, by the second regiment." This engagement was literally fulfilled. Three years after they were planted on the British lines at Savannah: one by Lieutenant Bush who was immediately shot down; Lieutenant Hume in the act of planting his was also shot down; and Lieutenant Gray in supporting them received a mortal wound. The brave Sergeant Jasper on seeing Lieutenant Hume fall, took up the color and planted it. In doing so, he received a wound which terminated in death; but on the retreat being ordered he brought the colors off with him. These were taken at the fall of Charleston and are said to be now in the tower of London.

SUMPTER AND MARION.

(_From the Same._)

As the British advanced to the upper country of South Carolina, a considerable number of the determined friends of independence retreated before them and took refuge in North Carolina. In this class was Colonel Sumpter; a gentleman who had formerly commanded one of the continental regiments, and who was known to possess a great share of bravery and other military talents. In a very little time after he had forsaken his home, a detachment of the British turned his wife and family out of doors, burned the house and everything that was in it. A party of these exiles from South Carolina who had convened in North Carolina made choice of Colonel Sumpter to be their leader. At the head of this little band of freemen he soon returned to his own State, and took the field against the victorious British. He made this gallant effort at a time when the inhabitants had generally abandoned the idea of supporting their own independence, and when he had every difficulty to encounter. The State was no longer in a condition to pay, clothe, or feed the troops who had enrolled themselves under his command. His followers were, in a great measure, unfurnished with arms and ammunition; and they had no magazines from which they might draw a supply. The iron tools, on the neighboring farms, were worked up for their use by common blacksmiths into rude weapons of war. They supplied themselves, in part, with bullets by melting the pewter which they were furnished by private housekeepers. They sometimes came to battle when they had not three rounds a man; and some were obliged to keep at a distance, till, by the fall of others, they were supplied with arms. When they proved victorious they were obliged to rifle the dead and wounded of their arms and ammunition to equip them for their next engagement. . . . . .

General Francis Marion was born at Winyaw in 1733. His grandfather was a native of Languedoc, and one of the many Protestants who fled from France to Carolina to avoid persecution on the account of religion. He left thirteen children, the eldest of whom was the father of the general. Francis Marion, when only sixteen years of age, made choice of a sea-faring life. On his first voyage to the West Indies he was shipwrecked. The crew, consisting of six persons, took to the open boat without water or provisions; . . . . they were six days in the boat before they made land. Two of the crew perished. Francis Marion with three others reached land. This disaster, and the entreaties of his mother, induced him to quit the sea. . . . . .

On the approach of General Gates he advanced with a small party through the country towards the Santee. On his arrival there he found a number of his countrymen ready and willing to put themselves under his command, to which he had been appointed by General Gates. This corps afterwards acquired the name of Marion's brigade. . . In all these marches Marion and his men lay in the open air with little covering, and with little other food than sweet potatoes and meat mostly without salt. Though it was the unhealthy season of autumn, yet sickness seldom occurred. The general fared worse than his men; for his baggage having caught fire by accident, he had literally but half a blanket to cover him from the dews of the night, and but half a hat to shelter him from the rays of the sun.

JAMES MADISON.

~1751=1836.~