THE DOME OF THE repubLIC. Come rest in my bosom, If there ye can sleep; I canna speak to ye, I only can weep. Ye've crossed the wild river, 105 IT 48. THE DOME OF THE REPUBLIC. T is recorded, in the annals of the most democratic republic of medieval Italy, that, in her pride of institutions and arts, she decreed the building of a cathedral dome far greater and more beautiful than any the world had ever seen. The architect, Arnolfo, having laid the foundations, died; and no one was deemed worthy to finish his work. For a century the Republic sought far and near, but an architect able thus to give glory to Florence and Italy could not be found. Meanwhile absurd projects were multiplied. Some proposed a dome supported by a central pillar; but it was voted that a dome which must forever be artificially supported, is but a poor, sickly no-dome. Others proposed a dome of pumice-stone; but it was voted, that when a great Republic rears a mighty monument for the ages, it may not be of pumice stone. Others still proposed to heap up a mountain of earth, to scatter coins therein, to round off its sum 106 THE DOME OF THE REPUBLIC. mit, to build the dome upon this as a support, and then to admit swarms of beggars, who should carry away the mountain of earth to sift it for its money. This was voted impracticable. At last a plain workman, strong only in sturdy sense and a knowledge of his art, proposed to rear the great fabric of marble, and by appliances simple and natural. He was set at the work. Then began the rage of rival architects. They derided his plans, seduced his workmen, stole his tools, undermined the confidence of the people. But still that plain, strong man wrought on, ever steadily, ever earnestly. Day by day the glorious creation rose; day by day some stone was added to give it height or mass; day by day some shrewd plan was struck to give it strength or symmetry, until it towered complete, a wondrous monument to Brunelleschi, to Florence, and to Italy. man. So in this glorious fabric of a restored Union. The work is mighty; the chief architect is but a plain The envious cavil, and the malignant howl. But, day by day, the structure rises; its foundations GREAT TRUTHS, far more lasting than mere granite; its pillars GREAT RIGHTS, far more beautiful than mere porphyry; its roof GREAT HOPES, Swelling higher than any dome of bronze and gold. And from its summit shall come light, beaming brighter, flashing farther, than any ever flung into serf's eyes from crown diamonds; for it shall reflect that light of liberty and justice which cometh from the very throne of the Almighty. DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 107 49. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. L 1776. ET your imagination carry you back to the year You stand in the hall of the old Colonial Court House of Philadelphia. Through the open door you see the Continental Congress assembled; the moment for a great decision is drawing near. The first little impulses to the general upheaval of the popular spirit, the Tea Tax, the Stamp Act, drop into insignificance; they are almost forgotten; the revolutionary spirit has risen far above them. It disdains to justify itself with petty pleadings; it spurns diplomatic equivocation; it puts the claim to independence upon the broad basis of eternal rights, as self-evident as the sun, as broad as the world, as common as the air of heaven. The struggle of the colonies against the usurping government of Great Britain has risen to the proud dimensions of a struggle of man for liberty and equality. Not only the supremacy of Old England is to be shaken off, but a new organization of society is to be built up, on the basis of liberty and equality. That is the Declaration of Independence! That is the American Revolution ! It is a common thing that men of a coarse cast of mind so lose themselves in the mean pursuit of selfish ends, as to become insensible to the grand and sublime. Measuring every character and every event in history by the low standard of their own individualities, incapable of grasping broad and generous ideas, they will belittle every great thing they cannot deny, and drag down every struggle of principle to the sordid arena of aspiring selfishness. 108 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. Eighteen hundred years ago there were men who saw in incipient Christianity nothing but a mere wrangle between Jewish theologians, got up by a carpenter's boy, and carried on by a few crazy fishermen. Three hundred years ago there were men who saw in the great reformatory movement of the sixteenth century, not the emancipation of the individual conscience, but a mere fuss kicked up by a German monk, who wanted to get married. Two hundred years ago there were men who saw in Hampden's refusal to pay the ship's money, not a bold vindication of constitutional liberty, but the crazy antics of a man who was mean enough to quarrel about a few shillings. And now, there are men who see in the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution, not the reorganization of human society upon the basis of liberty and equality, but a dodge of some English colonists who were unwilling to pay their taxes. But the dignity of great characters and the glory of great events find their vindication in the consciences of the people. It is in vain for demagoguism to raise its short arms against the Truth of History. The Declaration of Independence stands there. No candid man ever read it without seeing and feeling that every word of it was dictated by deep and earnest thought, and that every sentence of it bears the stamp of philosophic generality. It is the summing up of the results of the philosophical development of the age; the practical embodiment of the progressive ideas, which far from being confined to the narrow limits of the English colonies, pervaded the very atmosphere of all civilized countries. |