Sorrowfully it must be confessed that the time has not come when even his exalted labors find equal acceptance with all men. And now, as I undertake to speak of them in this presence, I seem to tread on half-buried cinders. I shall tread fearlessly, loyal ever, I hope, to the occasion, to my subject, and to myself. In the language of my own profession, I shall not travel out of the record; but I must be true to the record. It is fit that his name should be commemorated here. He was one of us. He was a son of the University, enrolled also among its teachers, and for many years a Fellow of the Corporation. To him, more, perhaps, than to any other person, is she indebted for her most distinctive opinions. His fame is indissolubly connected with hers:—
"And when thy ruins shall disclaim
To be the treasurer of his name,
His name, that cannot die, shall be
An everlasting monument to thee."[181]
I have called him Philanthropist: he may also be called Moralist, for he was the expounder of human duties; but his exposition of duties was another service to humanity. His morality, elevated by Christian love, fortified by Christian righteousness, was frankly applied to the people and affairs of his own country and age. He saw full well, that, in contest with wrong, more was needed than a declaration of simple principles. A general morality is too vague for action. Tamerlane and Napoleon both might join in general praise of peace, and entitle themselves to be enrolled, with Alexander of Russia, as members of a Peace Society. Many satisfy the conscience by such generalities. This was not the case with our Philanthropist. He brought his morality to bear distinctly upon the world. Nor was he disturbed by another suggestion, which the moralist often encounters, that his views were sound in theory, but not practical. He well knew that what is unsound in theory must be vicious in practice. Undisturbed by hostile criticism, he did not hesitate to arraign the wrong he discerned, and fasten upon it the mark of Cain. His philanthropy was morality in action.
As a moralist, he knew that the truest happiness is reached only by following the Right; and as a lover of man, he sought on all occasions to inculcate this supreme duty, which he addressed to nations and individuals alike. In this attempt to open the gates of a new civilization, he encountered prejudice and error. The principles of morality, first possessing the individual, slowly pervade the body politic; and we are often told, in extenuation of war and conquest, that the nation and the individual are governed by separate laws,—that the nation may do what an individual may not do. In combating this pernicious fallacy, Channing was a benefactor. He helped to bring government within the Christian circle, and taught the statesman that there is one comprehensive rule, binding on the conscience in public affairs, as in private affairs. This truth cannot be too often proclaimed. Pulpit, press, school, college, all should render it familiar to the ear, and pour it into the soul. Beneficent Nature joins with the moralist in declaring the universality of God's law; the flowers of the field, the rays of the sun, the morning and evening dews, the descending showers, the waves of the sea, the breezes that fan our cheeks and bear rich argosies from shore to shore, the careering storm, all on this earth,—nay, more, the system of which this earth is a part, and the infinitude of the Universe, in which our system dwindles to a grain of sand, all declare one prevailing law, knowing no distinction of person, number, mass, or extent.
While Channing commended this truth, he fervently recognized the Rights of Man. He saw in our institutions, as established in 1776, the animating idea of Human Rights, distinguishing us from other countries. It was this idea, which, first appearing at our nativity as a nation, shone on the path of our fathers, as the unaccustomed star in the west which twinkled over Bethlehem.
Kindred to the idea of Human Rights was that other, which appears so often in his writings as to inspire his whole philanthropy, the importance of the Individual Man. No human soul so abject in condition as not to find sympathy and reverence from him. He confessed brotherhood with all God's children, although separated from them by rivers, mountains, and seas,—although a torrid sun had left upon them an unchangeable Ethiopian skin. Filled with this thought, he was untiring in effort to promote their elevation and happiness. He yearned to do good, to be a spring of life and light to his fellow-men. "I see nothing worth living for," he said, "but the divine virtue which endures and surrenders all things for truth, duty, and mankind." In this spirit, so long as he lived, he was the constant champion of Humanity.
In the cause of education and of temperance he was earnest. He saw how essential to a people governing themselves was knowledge,—that without it the right of voting would be a dangerous privilege, and that with it the nation would be elevated with new means of happiness and power. His vivid imagination saw the blight of intemperance, and exposed it in glowing colors. In these efforts he was sustained by the kindly sympathy of those among whom he lived.