lessons of wisdom and sagacity read them by their Puritan fathers, and by the experience in self-government, afforded during a century and a half of enjoyment of a large share of political privileges, granted by the mother country. They were thus prepared to lay deep and strong the foundations of an enlightened government, which, equally removed from the extremes of despotism on the one hand, and anarchy on the other, and granting its subjects the exercise of their right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," shall endure through ages to come. But the people of France, shut up in darkness during centuries of misrule, passed at a step from abject servitude to unlimited freedom. They were unprepared for this violent transition. Their conceptions of liberty were of the most extravagant description. What wonder that they became dizzy at their sudden elevation! What wonder that blood flowed in rivers!-that dissension and faction rent them asunder-that a fearful anarchy soon reigned triumphant-or that the confused and troubled drama closed in the iron rule of a military conqueror-the Man of Destiny! Let not this lesson be lost upon the world. Let a people who would enjoy freedom, learn to merit the boon by the study of its principles, and a preparation to exercise its privileges, under those salutary restraints which man can never throw off and be happy!

The odium excited throughout Europe by the excesses of the French Revolution, was heaped without

measure upon the American people. They were charged with the origin of the misrule which convulsed France, and filled the eastern hemisphere with alarm and were tauntingly pointed to the crude theories promulgated by French democracy, and the failure of their phrenzied efforts to establish an enlightened and permanent Republic, as conclusive evidence that self-government, among any people, was a mere Utopian dream, which could never be realized.

The establishment of a republican government in America, had not been relished by the monarchies of Europe. They looked upon it with distrust, as a precedent dangerous to them in the highest degree. The succor which Louis XVI. had rendered the revolting colonists, was not from a love of democratic institutions it was his hope to cripple Great Britain, his ancient enemy, and to find some opportunity, perhaps, to win back his Canadian provinces, which had so recently been rent from his possession. When the pent-up flames of revolution burst forth at the very doors of the governments of the old world—when the French throne had been robbed of its king, and that king of his life-when a Republic had been proclaimed in their midst, and signal-notes of freedom were ringing in their borders—they became seriously alarmed. The growing evil must be checked immediately. Led on by England, the continental powers combined to exterminate at a blow, if possible, every vestige of Republicanism in France. Then commenced

the long series of bloody wars, which, with little intermission, convulsed Europe for nearly a quarter of a century, and ceased only when the rock of St. Helena received its lonely exile.

In the meantime affairs at home had attained to a critical juncture. The Constitution had been adopted. The new government had been set in operation under the supervision of Washington, as the first President of the Republic. The people, influenced by certain "elective affinities," had become sundered into two great political parties-Conservative and Progressive, or Federal and Democratic. Both were distrustful of the Constitution. The former believed it too weak to consolidate a government capable of protecting its subjects in the peaceful enjoyment of their rights, from discord within, and attacks from without. The latter apprehended that it might easily be transformed, by some ambitious Napoleon, into an instrument of oppression, more fearful even than the limited monarchy from which they had but recently escaped, at an expense of so much blood and treasure. Each of these parties are entitled to the credit of equal sincerity and honesty of

purpose.

Washington, with a loftiness of purpose truly characteristic of a great and good mind, refused to identify himself with either party. In forming his first cabinet, moved with a desire to heal the dissensions which distracted the country, he selected its members equally from the adverse factions. Hamilton and Knox rep

resented the Federal party, and Jefferson and Randolph the opposite. During his entire administration, "the Father of his country" steadily aimed to keep himself clear from all party entanglements. He was emphatically the President of the whole people, and not of a faction. His magnanimous spirit would not stoop to party favoritism, nor allow him to exercise the power entrusted him, to promote the interests of any political clique. In all his measures his great object was to advance the welfare of the nation, without regard to their influence on conflicting parties. In these things he left behind him a pure and noble example, richly worthy the imitation of his successors in that high station.

The Revolution in France, and the measures adopted by the Allied Sovereigns to arrest its progress, excited the liveliest interest among the people of the United States. But their sympathies ran in different channels, and very naturally took the hue of their party predilections. The Democrats, believing the French Revolution to be the up-springing of the same principles which had triumphed here—a lawful attempt of an oppressed people to secure the exercise of inalienable rights-although shuddering at the excesses which had been perpetrated, still felt it to be our own cause, and insisted that we were in honor and duty bound to render all the assistance in our power, even to a resort to arms, if need be. The Federalists, on the other hand, were alarmed at the anarchical tendencies in

France. They were fearful that law, order, government, and society itself, would be utterly and speedily swept away, unless the revolutionary movement was arrested. Cherishing these apprehensions, they were disposed to favor the views of Great Britain and other European powers, and were anxious that the government of the United States should adopt some active measures to assist in checking what they could not but view as rapid strides to political and social anarchy. However the two parties differed as to the measures proper to be adopted in this crisis, they were united in the conviction that our government should take some part as a belligerant, in these European struggles; and exerted each its influence to bring about such an interference as would be in accordance with their conflicting views of duty and expediency.

There was residing, at this period, in Boston, a young and nearly briefless lawyer, whose views on these important matters differed materially from those entertained by both parties. It was John Quincy Adams. While he could not countenance the attempts of the Allied Powers to destroy the French Republic, and reestablish a monarchy, he was equally far from favoring the turn which affairs were clearly taking in that unhappy country. He evidently foresaw the French Revolution would prove a failure; and that it was engendering an influence which, unchecked, would be deeply injurious to American liberty and order. To counteract this tendency, he published in the Boston