And dies among his worshippers.'
"What bounds can the vision of the human mind descry to the spread of American greatness, if we but firmly adhere to those first principles of government, which have already enabled us, in the infancy of national existence, to vie with the proudest of the century-nurtured states of Europe? The Old World is cankered with the diseases of political senility and cramped by the long-worn fetters of tyrannous habit. But the empire of the West is in the bloom and freshness of being. Its heart is unseared by the prejudices of 'damned custom;' its intellect unclouded by the sophisms of ages. From its borders, kissed by the waves of the Atlantic, to
'The continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound
Save his own dashing;'
from the inland oceans of the North, to the sparkling surface of the tropical sea, rippled by breezes laden with the perfumes of eternal summer, our vast theatre of national achievement extends. What a course is here for the grand race of democratic liberty! Within these limits a hundred millions of fellow-beings may find ample room and verge enough to spread themselves and grow up to their natural eminence. With a salubrious clime to invigorate them with health, and a generous soil to nourish them with food; with the press—that grand embalmer not of the worthless integuments of mortality, but of the offsprings of immortal mind—to diffuse its vivifying and ennobling influences over them; with those admirable results of inventive genius to knit them together, by which space is deprived of its power to bar the progress of improvement and dissipate the current of social amity; with a political faith which acknowledges as its fundamental maxim the golden rule of Christian ethics, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you;' with these means, and the constantly-increasing dignity of character which results from independence, what bounds can be set to the growth of American greatness? A hundred millions of happy people! A hundred millions of co-sovereigns, recognizing no law but the recorded will of a majority; no end of law but mutual and equal good; no superior but God alone!"
The keen admiration for Forrest prevalent among the democratic masses had already led to frequent suggestions of him as a candidate for political honors. His appointment as orator quickened the scent of friends and foes in this direction. In the public prints the thought of his nomination was advocated by some and satirized by others. The following paragraph gives a glimpse into the life of the time:
"There is talk of sending our tragedian to Washington, to act a real part on the political stage. By all means. Look at the play-writers in Parliament,—Sheridan, Bulwer, Shiel, Talfourd! Our friend Knowles is spoken of for a seat in the Commons. Why not Forrest? Down with all illiberality, we say, in such matters. Let Forrest have a seat in Congress. We like variety. And in these dog-days we like a little frolic and fun, and insist upon a thundering audience for the oration to begin with, and then we will clear the way for the Congressional election. But fair and softly: what are we to do with his friend Leggett? They cannot be separated: they must go together, like two figs in a jar. If Forrest has a seat in Congress, Leggett must have a stool near him. He can have a seat like a delegate, you know, from a Territory, having a voice but no vote. We can manage that. He can go from Coney Island without opposition, and it is essentially necessary that he should go. Suppose Forrest should break down in a speech on the Northeastern boundary, on the currency, on the Western land interests, or on any other great constitutional or legal question, he has only to turn round to his friend and say, in that remarkably silver voice of his, 'York, you are wanted!'"
Some scurrilous spirits charged that the oration delivered by Forrest was not his own composition, but was furnished by his friend Leggett. Leggett immediately published a point-blank denial, and affirmed that he had nothing whatever to do with it. In a short time the anticipated move was made; and, after careful consideration, it received the following reply:
"Philadelphia, Oct. 17th, 1838.