SERMON.
“With such sacrifices
God is well pleased.” ;Hebrews
xii.
I am to speak of public spirit, as
manifested in a willingness to make sacrifices for
the public good.
The necessity for making sacrifices
would seem to be founded in this: as we cannot
have every thing, we must be willing to sacrifice some
things in order to obtain or secure others. Wicked
men recognize and act upon this principle. Can
you not recall more than one person in your own circle
of acquaintances who is sacrificing his health, his
good name, his domestic comfort, to vicious indulgences?
Worldly people recognize and act upon this principle.
Look at that miser: he is hoarding up his thousands
and his tens of thousands, but in order to do so,
is he not sacrificing every thing which makes life
worth having? It is a mistake to suppose that
religion, or morality, or the public necessities,
ever call upon us to make greater sacrifices than
those which men are continually making to sin and the
world, to fashion and fame, to “the lust of
the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of
life.”
In times of ease, and abundance, and
tranquillity, the public takes care of itself.
There are few sacrifices on the part of individuals
for the public good, because there are few occasions
for such sacrifices. They are not made because
not called for, because not needed. Moreover,
private benevolence is apt at such times to become
less active, and, for the same reason, that is to say,
because less of it is required.
This state of things is seized upon
by those who are eager to put the worst possible construction
on human nature and human conduct, as evidence of
extreme degeneracy. How often are we to be told
that our present troubles are sent upon us in order
to lift the whole community out of the mire of money-getting
propensities, where every thing like public spirit
was in danger of being swallowed up and lost?
I protest against this wholesale abuse of what has
been, ;at best, a gross exaggeration.
The whole truth in this matter is told in a few words.
By constitution, by habit, by circumstances, our people
are intensely active; and this activity, for want
of other objects, has been turned into the channels
of material prosperity. If, therefore, you merely
affirm their excessive eagerness in acquisition, I
grant it; but if, not content with this, you go on
to charge them with being niggards in expending what
they have acquired, I deny it, emphatically, utterly.
Read the history of what has been done in this commonwealth,
in this city, during the last twenty-five years for
humanity, for education, for science and the arts,
for every form of public use or human need, and then
say, if you can, that public spirit has been dying
out. Our people have never been otherwise than
public spirited, and hence the promptness and unanimity
of their response to this new call to public duty.
Hence also our confidence in it, ;not as
an excitement merely, which a day has made, and a
day may unmake, but as an expression of character.
Let us, however, be just to the excitement
itself, considered as the sudden and spontaneous uprising
of a whole community to sustain the government.
We need demonstrations of this kind, from time to time,
to reassure us that all men have souls. It is
worth a great deal merely as an experiment, on a large
scale, to prove that the moral and social instincts
are as much a part of human nature as the selfish
instincts. But he must be a superficial observer
who can see nothing in this vast movement but the
play of instincts. It is a great moral force.
Not a little of what passes for loyalty
or patriotism in other countries is blind impulse,
growing out of mere attachment to the soil, or the
power of custom, or a helpless feeling of dependence
on things as they are. “If my father in
his grave could hear of this war,” said a Spanish
peasant, “his bones would not rest.”
Yet what earthly interest, what intelligible concern
had Spanish peasants in the rivalships and struggles
of princes who thought of nothing but their own or
their family aggrandizement. Of such loyalty,
of such patriotism, there never has been much in this
country, and there never will be. The loyal and
patriotic States have risen up as one man to maintain
the government, because the government represents the
great ideas of order and liberty. It is not an
excitement of irritation merely, or of wounded vanity,
or of a selfish and discomfited ambition. It
is, as I have said, a great moral force, a reverence
for order and liberty; an excitement, if you will
have it so, but an excitement resting on solid and
intelligible principle, and one, therefore, which
trial and sacrifice will be likely to convert into
earnest and solemn purpose.
I suppose some are full of concern
as to the effect which trial and sacrifice will really
have on this new outbreak of public spirit. They
fear that suffering for our principles will abate our
confidence in them, or at least our interest in them,
and so the ardor will die away. So doubtless,
it will in some cases, for every community has its
representatives of “the seed that was sown on
stony ground”; but it will be the exception
and not the rule. Human nature, if it has fair
play, will never lead a single individual to think
less of a privilege or blessing, merely because it
has cost more. When has religion interested men
the most, and the most generally? Precisely at
those times when men were religious at the greatest
sacrifices. Indeed, it is on this principle that
we explain the decay of a proper love of country among
us for the last twenty or thirty years; it is because
we have had so little to do for our country. A
foreign war, even a famine or a pestilence, if it
had been sufficiently severe, would have saved us
from our present trouble and humiliation. So long
as the people think and feel together, they hold each
other up, and the sacrifices in which they express
their public spirit, instead of wearing it out, will
purify it and keep it alive.
And this is not all. From the
language sometimes used in speaking of sacrifices
for the public good, it might almost be supposed that
the making of them is simply painful, simply distressing.
But is it so? Of course both instinct and duty
impel us to look out for ourselves; but is it not
equally true that both instinct and duty impel us to
help one another, and provide for the common weal?
A generous and noble deed, ;simply painful,
simply distressing! I will not deny that a long
life of selfishness, meanness, and servility may bring
here and there one to look on things in this light,
but not until he is, in the language of Scripture,
“without natural affection.” “Public
spirit,” so an eminent jurist has defined it,
“is the whole body of those affections which
unite men’s hearts to the commonwealth.”
What I insist upon is, that these are real and natural
affections, and that, in acting them out, we find
a real and natural satisfaction. Who will say
that the happiest moments of his existence have not
been those in which he was conscious of living for
others, and not for himself? There are many things
in the present aspect of our public affairs to fill
us with regret and anxiety, but a gleam of light shines
through the cloud. Every man and woman and child
will be moved to act more unselfishly, more nobly;
life will cost more, but it will also be worth more.
It is extremely difficult to do justice
to this human nature of ours, ;capable at
once of such mean and little things, of such noble
and great things. There is, however, one distinction
which all, I suppose, will accord to it: I mean
its tendency to rise up and meet great emergencies.
In every soul that lives there is an untold amount
of latent energy and public spirit which only waits
for the occasion to call it forth. Read the history
of the Netherlands, ;a people made up, for
the most part, of merchants and manufacturers, of traders
and artisans, growing rich and apparently thinking
of little else. A blow is struck at the free
institutions which they had inherited from their ancestors;
immediately a new spirit reveals itself, and all Europe
rings with the story of their heroic daring and suffering.
The sacrifices which the country asks
for in time of war are those of property, labor,
and life; and she does not ask in vain.
We are continually reminded that this
rebellion has taken place at a moment of great national
prosperity, to blast it all. The sacrifices of
property, in a thousand ways, must be immense;
every man, however, from his diminished fortune, is
“ready to distribute,” and “not
grudgingly or of necessity.” His public
spirit makes him love to give. I doubt whether
it is common for rich men to think any better of themselves
merely because they are rich; but if they can make
their riches, and their financial skill, available
to save the State, they will think better of themselves,
and they will have a right to do so. There is
a natural jealousy of wealth, especially when it takes
the form of a passion for accumulation, which demagogues
and fanatics know how to use for bad ends. One
of the incidental benefits resulting from a great
national struggle is, that all these social misunderstandings
and heart-burnings are suspended, are healed.
The people see and feel and acknowledge that a real
title to nobility is found, not in wealth itself,
but in wealth generously and nobly bestowed.
Others are manifesting their public
spirit by sacrifices of time and labor.
And here I wish I could find fit terms in which to
acknowledge the services and sufferings of women.
You have heard of the Spartan mother equipping her
son for battle, and giving him, last of all, the shield,
with the brief and stern farewell, “With it or
on it.” We expect no such stoicism now,
but we expect what is better. We expect that
Christian mothers, with hearts bleeding for their country,
and bleeding for their children, will say, “It
is the will of God that they should go,” and,
furthermore, that they will go, having always been
taught at home that there are many things worse than
death. And then how many fingers are busily at
work in all classes, rich and poor alike, to provide
for the comfort of those who go? They even ask
for the privilege of tending the sick and wounded.
How many, brought up in ease and affluence, would
follow in the steps of her whose tender voice, the
very rustle of whose dress by the bedside of the dying
soldier was as a glimpse of heaven. I have heard
men call this “romance.” But is it
well, or right, or tolerable, in times like these,
to look round for side motives, when the motive avowed
is reasonable and probable? I believe, as I believe
I live, that many who never knew what it is to work
before, are ready to thank God for the chance they
now have to live to some purpose.
But will our men fight?
There is no denying that this word sounds disagreeably
in a Christian discourse; still, I have no misgivings
in respect to it, ;no extravagances
to take back; not the beginning of a doubt but that
there are wars which, on one side at least, are necessary,
and just, and holy. The Bible contains no express
and unqualified prohibition of war; neither can such
prohibition be said to be intimated or implied in
any text or in the general tenor of Scripture, without
making it subversive, at the same time, of civil government.
Besides, I remember that the first person not a Jew,
in whose favor our Lord wrought a miracle, was a Roman
centurion; and that the first person not a Jew admitted
into the Christian church, was also a Roman centurion;
and not a syllable is said against their calling,
neither is there a shadow of evidence that they ever
changed it. Undoubtedly it is the legitimate
and certain tendency of the spirit of the gospel,
as it is more and more diffused in the world, to introduce
universal peace; but the spirit of the gospel acts
from within outwardly, and not from without inwardly.
Thus the stop to be put to war is to be expected,
not so much by chaining down those irrepressible instincts
which lead men to resist wrong, as by eradicating
the disposition to do wrong. Wars will cease when
all men are Christians, and perfect Christians; but
this will not be to-day nor to-morrow.
Accordingly, I am not surprised that
the call to arms has been responded to with such enthusiasm, ;or
that it is sustained by the whole moral and religious
sentiment of the community. Men are ready to
offer up not only their money and their labor, but
also their lives. Are you afraid that your sons
and brothers will be cowards merely because they are
not duelists? because they have never been engaged
in a street-fight? because prayers were made at their
departure? or because they have carried their bibles
with them? Did Cromwell’s soldiers flee
before the cavaliers because they were sober and God-fearing
men? Our people have no love for fighting, as
a pastime; let it, however, become a serious business,
and they will show that their veins are full of the
blood that flowed so freely in other days.
These are some of the ways in which
a people may manifest their public spirit, and in
which our people are manifesting it now. “With
such sacrifices God is well pleased.” I
have given a definition of public spirit from the
jurists, but I like still better the Bible definition.
In the words of the prophet, “They helped every
one his neighbor, and every one said to his brother,
Be of good courage.”
In looking back on what has been said,
I find I have not spoken against anybody, not even
against our enemies. Perhaps we have had enough
of invective; at any rate the pulpit may spare it.
God is my witness, I feel no vindictive resentment,
no bitter hostility against those who have been swept
away by this terrible delusion. Moreover, I confess
to being greatly moved by the circumstance that in
some respects what is true of us is true also of them.
They seem to be of one mind; their religious men appeal
with confidence to the righteous Judge; their women
are working day and night to help forward the cause.
If it were a mere question of interest, or passion,
or prejudice between us and them, it might be said
that one side is as likely to be self-deceived as
the other. But it is not. By striking at
the principles of all constitutional and free government,
and this too avowedly for the purpose of founding
society on the servitude of an inferior race, on whose
toil the more favored races are to live, they have
put themselves in opposition to the settled convictions
and the moral sense of good men all over the world.
To the student of history it is no
new thing that a whole community should be given over
“to believe a lie,” ;not the
less mad, because all mad together. The process
by which this state of things is brought about is
always substantially the same. Egotism, vanity,
disappointed ambition, sectional jealousies, a real
or supposed interest or expediency induce them to
wish that a wrong course were the right one.
They try to convince themselves that it is so, and
all such efforts to sophisticate the conscience, if
persisted in, are punished by entire success.
The spectacle does not inspire me with hate; it fills
me with wonder and profound melancholy. Do these
men think that by altering their opinion of right
they can alter the nature of things, or make wrong
come out right in the great and solemn issues which
are before us? We stand where their own great
men stood in the best days of the republic. As
regards the leading rights and interests at stake,
our consciences are but the echo of the conscience
of the Christian world. The fathers of the Revolution,
one and all, are looking down with sorrow and indignation
on this attempt to break up and destroy their work.
Nevertheless, it can do no good to
begin by overvaluing ourselves, or undervaluing our
enemies. We know that the behests of a righteous
Providence will be accomplished, but we do not know
in what way. It is more than probable that in
the troubles and distractions which have come upon
the country we ourselves have something to answer for.
For this reason reverses and humiliations may be in
store for us, before we are accounted worthy to carry
out the Divine judgments. But there can be no
doubt as to the end. A struggle has been forced
upon us by a doomed people, if the laws of nature
do not fail, if there is any meaning in the moral
sentiments of mankind, or any justice in heaven.