An eulogy on George Washington, first president of the United States, and late commander in chief of the American army, who died December 14, 1799. : Delivered at Dedham, February 22, 1800, at the bequest of the inhabitants of said town. / By Thomas Thacher, A.M. ; [Ten lines of Latin quotations]

AN EULOGY.

HAD we assembled this day, my fel|low-citizens, for the purpose of private mourn|ing, that we might sympathize with a distressed family deprived of a parent, or weep over the ruins of youth and beauty when conveyed to the tomb, our conduct would deserve approbation and respect. We are MEN, and therefore, I trust, never insensible of the calls of humanity. An event far more important arrests our notice, and hath given birth to the solemnities of the day. The common triumphs of the last enemy of man, though severe and terrible; yet are short in their effects. When one generation passeth away another

rises in its place. When wise and good men of local eminence retire from the world, others are raised up by Providence to fill their stations. If the flowers are destroyed by the severity of winter frosts, still the spring will repair their ravages. Though the sun goeth down in the western hemis|phere he will again arise, he will shine on new forms of beauty in the natural world—and on a new succession of rational beings, who in turn must pay the like tribute to mortality. But when will the beams of that glorious luminary again be reflected on such an object as we now lament; when in any future period will they behold one, who like him, so perfectly united in himself the amiable citizen, the uncorrupt patriot, and the invincible hero; one whom we know not whether more to love for the excellent qualities of his heart, or admire for his peerless greatness and splendid appearance on the human drama? Our civil Fathers have pronounced him "First in War, First in peace, and First in the affections of the people." The re-echoing groans and sighs of millions of our nation, have demonstrated their warm approbation of the sentiment.

THIS day, devoted to funeral honors, which before had been dedicated to joy and innocent

amusements, as the nativity of the political saviour of his country: this day, witnesses our keen sensi|bilities for his death, and our unaffected gratitude to his memory.

IN paying due honours and the last offices of res|pect, in our power, to the highest grade of human virtue, we copy after the best and fairest exam|ples of antiquity, both sacred and profane. Even in the pure and simple ages of the world we find the patriarch Jacob followed to the grave by all his countrymen and kindred, as well as by the Egyptian Court. The children of Israel mourn|ed thirty days for Moses their illustrious leader, who delivered them from slavery, and conducted them to Canaan. The princes and patriots of the same nation, were honoured after their exit by all the signals of public mourning—and the monu|ment of David existed for more than a thousand years.

THE Athenians, renowned through the world for their great wisdom and acquirements, though so jealous of their liberties that they banished from their country citizens, whose power, or even vir|tues, gave them too great an ascendancy; yet granted to the same, as well as to other great men,

who were their benefactors, funeral honours which equalled in pomp and magnificence their religious solemnities. In other nations of Greece, as well as among the Romans, the inventors of Arts and Sciences; the authors of free governments, and the destroyers of tyranny; those who had fought and died for their country, have been held in the highest veneration. They were admitted even to divine honours, their deeds of glory have been re|corded by the historian, have been embellished by the orator, and sounded by the poet. The arts of painting and of statuary have lent their aid— that after ages might not only be favored with the display of their minds, but gratified in beholding —the very image of their persons. Criminal and ungrateful should we be, my fellow townsmen, if we suffered our illustrious Friend to depart from life without mingling our tears with the rest of our countrymen. Is it not the duty of America to exhibit such an example of wisdom and virtue— such courage, public spirit, and usefulness to man|kind, as a model for posterity? Our hearts give a sufficient reply—he is worthy of our love and ad|miration—and he shall ever retain them. "On such sacrifices (to use a bold figure of antiquity) the Gods themselves strow incense."

UNDER patience of this respectable audience, we shall proceed to a review of the more impor|tant passages of his life. Though your organ con|fesses himself unequal to the sublimity of the sub|ject; yet impressed with the highest sense of gra|titude to the Father of his country—and the moral obligation on every citizen of the United States to reverence his memory and suitably contemplate this melancholy event—he hopes his best efforts to comply with your wishes may compensate for his want of abilities or eloquence.

GEORGE WASHINGTON was born the eleventh of February 1732, of an ancient and hon|ourable family in the Commonwealth of Virginia.* 1.1 Strong powers of mind, a good private educa|tion,

and a robust constitution fitted him very early to appear in public life—and to render important services to his country, as well as to give strong presages of his future greatness; even at an age when young gentlemen of fortune are too apt to be rioting in luxury and dissipation. For before he arrived at the age which the laws of his coun|try consider as manhood, he was delegated by his native Colony to remonstrate against the encroach|ments of the French and Indians on their western frontiers. War succeeding, he was appointed to the command of a provincial regiment in that army, of which BRADDOCK was General. There he discovered the force of his genius in warlike affairs, by uniting the ardour and courage of a young man with the penetration and skill of a vet|eran soldier. He remonstrated with his com|mander against the arrangments of the battle; and when he could not convince that obstinate man, who fell a deserved sacrifice to his presumption and ignorance, the great WASHINGTON, at twenty-two years of age, covered and protected the retreating army. Such were the hopes excit|ed by his abilities and virtue, that even then he was designated in prophetic language to be the future saviour of America. These were exploits sufficient for the morning of a brilliant life, and

enough to have procured him an honourable name on the historick page. Yet they are lost by the contemplation of the numerous and more impor|tant events which succeeded.—As these are more interesting, let us follow him in his career.

HAVING gone through the several grades of Legislator and Magistrate in his native province, he was appointed in 1774, a Delegate to the Gen|eral Congress. He sincerely joined with that hon|ourable band of Patriots, in every effort to restore the violated rights of his country, without a civil war. But their attempts were fruitless. The more humbly they petitioned, the more haughti|ly they were rejected by the Government of Great Britain. At length, when all other resources fail|ed, an appeal was made to Heaven, to be decided by the sword. At that time, America was with|out arms, amunition, money, or publick credit. No inconsiderable proportion of her citizens be|came her avowed enemies. These, from the in|fluence of the royal governors, were, many of them, possessed of publick offices, and had great conse|quence and consideration in society. Though the people at large were united, yet numerous con|tingences might have destroyed an alliance pro|duced by common danger.

THE nation, with whom we contended, com|manded an extensive revenue and an unlimited credit; abounding in military resources. The re|cent triumphs of her arms in Europe and Amer|ica, had been heard by all, and witnessed by no inconsiderable proportion of the world. She sent over generals to command her armies, who had been flushed with conquest; and a navy—the terror of all maritime powers. She directed her instruments of vengeance and death to destroy property and life, as far as each might be necessary to reduce us to unqualified submission. In this state of uni|versal anxiety and dismay, the attention and re|maining hopes of Congress were directed to our departed FATHER; by their unanimous suffra|ges, he was chosen CAPTAIN GENERAL of the armies of the United States. It was then in the day of your calamity, that he abandoned ev|ery domestick comfort—left the enjoyment of an opulent fortune, and exposed his precious and va|luable life, that he might defend your cause and establish your independence. With industry, he disciplined your armies; with prudence, he con|cealed your weakness, not only from your ene|mies, but from yourselves. With equal skill and fortitude (under the smiles of Heaven) he drove the British forces from yonder city.

SHALL we retrospect this illustrious MAN in his retreat through the Jersies, like another Eneas, carrying with him the hopes and fortunes of his country? Great and venerable in adversity, he was himself an host. Though by sickness and ill success, our army was nearly annihilated; yet while WASHINGTON lived, it was accounted criminal to despair of the Commonwealth.—Ye war-worn veterans, whose aged heads are covered with the "blossoms of the grave," speak, for you can tell! You, who have so often followed and attended this wonderful MAN through the vicisi|tudes of the late revolution, and to whose co-ope|rating valour we are indebted for our Liberty and Independence. How dauntless and unappalled in the midst of surrounding dangers! How often hath he wasted the midnight lamp in planning for your and our safety! As you have seen his fortitude under the severest shocks of fortune; so have you known his humanity after success. The vanquished found in him, not an implacable victor, but a generous and sympathizing friend. What attention and kindness did he not display to the brave compan|ions of his danger? He bled for your wounds; and, like the Emperor Trajan, was ready to tear his garments, that he might bind them up. Was

there one of your number, who was not willing to die fighting under his banner? or who would not have coveted the sacrifice of his own life to protect that of his General? In a word, who did not submit to his commands from motives of af|fection, rather than fear?

AT the close of the late war, when murmurs for unrewarded services and cruelly neglected merits had pervaded the camps, and nearly introduced a civil war, the powerful influence of this invariable FRIEND to his country, like the fabled visage and ascensions of the Monarch of the Ocean, calmed the storm, quenched the torch of discord, and said to the impetuous passions "peace be still."

BY the gracious interposition of Almighty God, the war with Britain was brought to a favourable issue, and the national sovereignty of America was acknowledged by her enemies. This great man did then retire to domestic occupation—like the famous Dictator Cincinnatus. He sought in the shades of private life the blessings for which he had contended with success, taking at the same time a farewell of all public honours and employ|ments.

BUT had he not now done enough for his coun|try? Was he not crowned with unwithering laurels? Was not the orb of his glory full? Enough it may be answered for any other hero or statesman. But yet from our illustrious PARENT immortal services were to be performed in a mortal life. It was not only necessary that he should lay the foundations, but that he should complete the superstructure of LIBERTY in these American regions.—In the year 1787, he was sent as a delegate to a Convention, convoked under the au|thority of the several states in the union, to form a general constitution. That body of sages chose him to preside in their assembly. When this sys|tem was adopted, the universal wishes and suffrages of the people created him their supreme political head. To any other man but GEORGE WASHINGTON, this exalted station would have been the highest object of ambition. But when it is considered that he had already acquired the universal good will of his country, and a repu|tation which could scarcely be increased, obedi|ence to the voice of his fellow-citizens, was a sa|crifice,—yea, a sacrifice which added to the num|ber of our obligations to his memory, for it de|monstrated that he was not only willing to expose his life, but even hazard his fame, when the sacred

calls of duty and the publick necessity demanded it at his hands.

HOW wisely he assisted in organizing this go|vernment, in reconciling contending parties, in guarding against foreign influence, in preserving our neutrality, and finally in performing the diffi|cult and arduous duties of his exalted station, I shall leave to be recorded by some future historian, and properly transmitted to the important tribunal of posterity.—Thus much it is proper to observe, that though very different apprehensions were formed of the events of that day; yet all great and good men who differed from our President in his political administration, reverenced the pu|rity of his motives, and rectitude of his heart.

WHEN eight years of his valuable and impor|tant life had been devoted to the interests of his native land—when different parties were in some measure composed, and the government strengthened by time and habit, and the accession of all the states, he quitted his high and exalted station, with more pleasure than it would have been received by the most sanguine votary of ambition and power.

NO long interval existed from his resignation of the Presidency, before he was once more called into publick life. The violent revolutions in Eu|rope, threatening America with the danger of a war—he accepted the command of our army, in a rank inferior to what he had possessed before. This elevation of soul, superior to all common notions of grandeur, reminds us of the old vener|able Roman, who when he had gone through all the publick grades of office, fought as a private under his own son when Consul.

THUS honourable, thus truly useful and emin|ently great, was our beloved PARENT in his publick character.—Thus gloriously did he discharge every duty in peace and war, which his country assigned him. We should do criminal injustice not only to his memory, but to society, were we here to close, and omit to declare his private virtues, as an example for the world. This part of the pic|ture is by no means unimportant; for his amiable qualities when properly exhibited, may be as much more useful than those of an obscure citizen, possessing the same measures of moral and social virtue, as his name and influence is more exten|sive.

THOUGH possessed of a splendid fortune, he did not feel himself raised above the duties of industry, and the common calls of private life. He observed such method and order in the management of his affairs, that notwithstanding his repeated liberal do|nations, and princely hospitality, he greatly en|creased his paternal estate. As a husband, he was such an example of constancy and tender affec|tions, as proved that the amiable may be united with the sublime, in the moral character. As a master, he united dignity and authority with such mildness of temper, as procured prompt obedience and warm attachment. And it is worthy of re|mark, that in all the important scenes he hath passed through, and the high trusts he was obliged to repose on the fidelity of his attendants, that there never hath appeared an instance of treachery in any member of his family. While this demon|strates his penetration and insight of human na|ture—it evidences the excellency of his heart and manners, in thus commanding the good affections and esteem of all degrees of men. Far from con|sidering the brilliancy of his publick character as a mantle for his private vices, he was uniformly cor|rect. His manners were affable, but dignified. In a word, such was his attention to decorum and

propriety, that no man dared to profane his feel|ings by vicious or indecent conversation.

IN this age of infidelity and licentiousness, he was not ashamed to avow and honour the system of Christianity. He frequently attended its publick institutions, and in his last address has warmly re|commended religion to the notice of his fellow-citizens.

THE last authenticated act of his life was wor|thy of himself. In his last will and testament, be|sides having bestowed large sums for the encourage|ment of literature and publick utility, he hath lib|erated all the Africans who belonged to his es|tate. He was obliged to postpone his noble and generous design during his life, on account of the situation of the southern states. Yet he took care to furnish those men with such instructions, as would qualify them for freedom, and hath made pro|vision for the support of the old and infirm, as a com|pensation for their past labours. Thus uniform in all his conduct, was this FRIEND of the Rights of Mankind—thus consistent, were his Republican Principles.

A SUMMARY review of the character of this

great MAN, will afford sufficient reasons for the applauses which his country hath bestowed on his actions, and the uncommon honours which have been paid to his memory.

HAD any one, skilled in military affairs, beheld him forming and disciplining his army—perform|ing the most arduous enterprizes, executing all the duties of a consummate general, subduing the proud and expressing humanity to the vanquished, he would have concluded that WASHINGTON must have been born in a camp, and warlike glory had been his only pursuit. Was our illus|trious CHIEF to have been viewed as a statesman, a lawgiver and president—the inference would have been that his highest ambition was to be a sage and patriot—and that his whole employ|ment was political studies.

HAD a philosopher viewed the undeviating purity of his morals—and the elevation and mag|nanimity of his mind in receiving the highest honours and plaudits ever given to mere man, without the least token of insolence or vanity; would he not have transported himself in idea to Athens—and imagined that WASHINGTON, in the Grove of Plato, had learned to subdue all

passions, rise above all sublunary grandeur, and to place his whole happiness in intellectual pleasures and the cultivation of his soul!

THOUGH we doubt not, other Generals have been equally brave in the field, conducted equally difficult enterprizes, and made more splendid con|quests; other Patriots and Sages have had an equal affection for their country, and have been ready to devote their talents to preserve, or die to de|fend its liberties; and other private citizens have e|qualled him in moral and social duties: yet, where is the man (the inspired characters recorded in the holy scriptures excepted) who hath united in him|self such measures of military, political and moral excellence? We should do injustice by comparing him with any one exalted name which hath been celebrated through the world. As a balanced comparison to his character, we must call up to memory a constellation of the brightest luminaries of all antiquity, or all the "sons of glory," in modern times.

MIGHT not our beloved FATHER have made the same declaration in his last moments with Pe|ricles, the Athenian, "That no American had shed a tear by his means"? or like the Emperor

Augustus have demanded your applause for a long life spent and devoted to your happiness? But this great man was as void of ostentation at the hour of his death, as he was of fear. He closed his own eyes; and, in the first instance, exhibited himself a mortal.

"LIKE a beam of light he hath ascended." He is now joined to the illustrious assembly of patriots and heroes whose fame "flows through all ages, enlarging as it flows." And his * 1.2 beatified spirit—is doubtless reaping the rewards of piety towards God—and the highest benevolence to|wards the human race.

We shall see his face no more, yet let us not weep for him, but ourselves.

It would be pre|sumption to expect another benefactor and parent like him we have lost, who will protect us in war, and direct our councils in peace. But let our tears be accompanied with earnest supplications to the Almighty, for his esteemed SUCCESSOR, for all branches of the general and state governments,

that as we see the mighty fall, and their high places knew them no more; that other good and great men may be raised up as our patrons and supports —that the liberty and happiness of America, may have no other termination than time and nature herself.

AS to WASHINGTON, he hath raised a monument, which no revolutions or commotions in the natural or moral world can overturn. I do not mean the cold marble which covers his insen|sible, but loved and ever precious remains; nor the sculptured brass and animated canvas, which will describe the lineaments of his godlike counte|nance;—but the record of his immortal actions, and the Temple of liberty in this western world. Cities, hereafter erected in the now pathless desart, the den of the wild beasts—the habitation of the savage, shall have their walls, their columns, and their senate houses, inscribed with his name; his deeds of glory shall adorn the page of an American Tacitus, or string the harp of a future Virgil. Even should our country (which God forbid) share the fate of all former free Republicks, either from domestick usurpation or foreign conquest; yet while there are Arts and Sciences, or any de|gree of civilization or refinement, the name of

WASHINGTON will be regarded with eternal honour, and himself pronounced the first and best of mankind.

"Nations thy fame, our minds lay up thy love, Letters thy learning, thy loss, years to come, In worthy hearts sorrow hath made thy tomb, Thy soul and spright enrich the heavens above.

Thy lib'ral heart embalm'd in grateful tears, Young sighs, sweet sighs, sage sighs, bewail thy fall; Envy her sting, and spight hath left her gall, Malice herself, a mourning garment wears."

Finis.

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Notes

• * 1.1

  In one edition of Dr. MORSE's Geography, in a short biographical account of General WASHINGTON, it is said—"That his ancestors were Royalists and emigrated to Virginia, after the death of Charles I. when England became a Republic." The follow|ing extract from Oldmixon's history of England, published A. D. 1730, affords a corroborating proof of that assertion.

  "In 1643. Prince Rupert, with an army of 20,000 horse and foot, coming before Bristol, and the summons being refused, laid siege to it, and the next day gave a fierce assault, but was beaten off. He continued his attacks with great resolution, and was as resolutely resisted, till Col. WASHINGTON gained the out works, and made a breach in the wall."
• * 1.2

  Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi Sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis. VIRGIL—ECLO••UE 5—56.