“Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe
That all was lost.”
The shock will begin at home; but it will spread wherever there are hearts to thrill with anguish. The struggling people in foreign lands, now turned to us with hope, will sink in despair as they observe the disastrous eclipse.
I would not seem too confident in the destinies of my country; but I cannot doubt, that, if only true to herself, there is nothing too vast for her peaceful ambition. Here again I catch the aspiration of our leader in war, “Let us have peace.” Out of peace will spring all else. Abroad there will be welcome and acceptance, with the might of our example constantly increasing. At home there will be safety and opportunity for all within our borders, with freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of travel, and the equal rights of citizenship, like the rights of the national creditor, all under the perpetual safeguard of that Public Faith which is the golden cord of the Republic. Let despots break promises, but not our Republic. A Republic is where every man has his due. Equality of rights is the standing promise of Nature to man, and the Republic has succeeded to this promise.
In harmony with the promise of Nature is the promise of our fathers, recorded in the Declaration of Independence, to which the Republic has succeeded also. It is the twofold promise, first, that all are equal in rights, and, secondly, that just government stands only on the consent of the governed,—being the two great political commandments on which hang all laws and constitutions. Keep these truly, and you will keep all. Write them in your statutes; write them in your hearts. This is the great and only final settlement of all existing questions. Under its kindly influence the past Rebellion will disappear, alike in its principles and its passions; future Rebellion will be impossible; and there will be a peace never to be disturbed. To this sublime consecration of the Republic let me aspire. With nothing less can I be content.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Ante, Vol. I. pp. 314, 315.