YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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Doane, G-eorge Washington
America and Great Britian: The Address, at
Burlington College, on the Seventy-Second
Anniversary of American Independence.

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YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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THE ADDRESS,
AT BURLINGTON COLLEGE,
ON THE
SEVENTY-SECOND ANNIVERSARY OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE,
JULY i, MDCCCXLVIII;

THE RIGHT REV. GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE, D.D., LL.D.,
BISHOP OF NEW IIE1II,
PBZ3I1IST OF TBE COLLEGE.

JSlllUllQtull;
EDMCSD MORHIS, AT THE MISSIOHARI TBES8.
MDCCCXLVIII.

+40 1-

At a meeting of Trustees, and other friends, of Burlington College, held
in the Junior Hall, immediately after the delivery of the Address, by the
Bishop, the Rev. Dr. Boyd wa6 called to the chair, and John J. Chetwood,
Esq., appointed Secretary.
On motion of the Rev. Mr. Odenheimer, it was unanimously resolved,
that a Committee be appointed, to take immediate measures for the publi
cation of the valuable and thrilling Address of the Bishop : whereupon,
Thomas D. Mutter, M. D., the Rev. Mr. Ogilby, and the Rev. Mr. Southard,
were appointed. John J. Chetwood, Secretary.
Burlington, July i, 1848.

To the Right Rev. Dr. Doane, Bishop of New Jersey, President of Burling
ton College, &c, &c, &c.
Right Rev. and dear Sir :
The undersigned, a Committee appointed by those who witnessed the
very interesting exercises, at the late celebration of the Fourth of July, in
Burlington College, respectfully ask, that you will favour them wilh a copy
of your Address, for publication. We are convinced that the greatest good
will result from the dissemination of the sentiments, which it so ably and
powerfully expresses. Thos. D. MiJTTEB,
Sam'l. L. Southard,
Fbeb'k. Osilbt.
Burlington, July ith, 1848.

ADDRESS

The great gift of God to man is peace. The
angels sang it, when they brought from heaven the
welcome message of a Saviour born : " Glory be to
God on high, and, on earth, peace." And, when the
Saviour was about to go again to heaven, His legacy
to His disciples, and, through them, to us, was still
the same : " Peace I leave with you ; My peace I
give unto you." The gifts of God to man are sacred
trusts. They are not his alone. He holds them for
his kind; and must account for them to God. Of
nothing is this truer, than of peace. Peace is a sa
cred thing. It is the halcyon weather of the heart ;
when all the virtues brood, and all the charities are
teeming with a warmer and more genial life. The
Sabbath-morning of Creation was not serener, in its
solemn hush ; nor Plato's loveliest dream, the Music
of the Spheres, more exquisite in harmony. Perfect,
in patriotism, as in piety, was that prayer of Royal
David, for the people, and the country, of his love :
"Pray for the peace of Jerusalem !" And, loveliest
of the strains of prayer, and fittest for an angeFs
voice, is that, which we have left out from our
fathers' Liturgy, " Give peace, in our time, 0 Lord ;

because there is none other that fighteth for us, but
only Thou, 0 God!"
I have not forgotten, that the great public docu
ment,1 which has just been read before us, as the
manner of this celebration is, was the solemn pre
lude of a long and arduous war, between two na
tions ; who, in the sight of God, stood, as a mother
and her child. Nor, that, in thirty years, they were
again engaged in war. Nor, that, since then, the
danger, once and again, has been most imminent, that
they must bathe themselves in blood. It is rather
because these things have been so, that I have spo
ken thus. Because, as one that has to do with young
and tender minds, I would be careful for their first
impressions. Because, in settling, as the usage of this
College, to be kept, I trust, to " the last syllable of re
corded time," the observance of this birth-day of our
nation, I would disavow, now and forever, for myself,
for you, my friends, and for these children, the faint
est shadow of a thought, that it involves the slightest
remnant of a hostile feeling, toward that great nation,
from whose womb we sprung, and, at whose bursting
breasts, our fathers all were nursed. That, so far
from that, a fit and proper use of this, our nation's
holiday, is the renewal of the vows of love, which
brothers owe to brothers. That, having fought our
way to man's estate, and won the prize for which we
fought, and made it glorious before men and ano-els,
we can well afford to shake hands, and be friends •

'The Declaration of Independence had been read by Cornelius E
Swope, A.B., an Assistant Classical Teacher.

and, none the less, but some the more, that we have
quarreled twice, and fought it out.1 That, having
tried the issues of the fight, and tasted all its woes,
our thoughts are turned to peace ; as God's great gift
to us, and our great trust for man. That, so God
help us, we will fight no more ; and, least of all, with
our own brethren of the blood : but, will set forth, to
all mankind, as truths, which freemen only feel, that,
the two nations of the world, who know what free
dom is, and how to use it, are too great to fight; that,
neither can require of either, what the other should
not give ; that, where we cannot quite agree, we can
agree to disagree ; that, we have common duties, to
perform; a common trust, for human kind, to exe
cute; a common source, from which our hearts all
fill their cisterns, with the same red blood; a common
language, which our mothers' voice first made fa
miliar to our ears, in lullabies; in which we wooed and
won our wives; in which our children lisped and
prattled nature's loveliest melodies to all our hearts ;
a common stock of learning and of letters, such as all
the world beside has not to show; and, best and
dearest of them all, a common Church, a common
altar, and the common prayers. Not, that the acts
and efforts of our patriot fathers shall be disavowed,
or disregarded. Not, that the trials and the toils, the
struggles and the sacrifices, of the men of seventy-
six, can ever cease to be our heritage and glory. Not,
that the memory of Lexington and Bunker Hill, of
Monmouth, Princeton, Trenton, ever can grow pale.
1 Irse amantium, amoris redintegratio.

But, that, things done are finished; that by-gones
should be by-gones; that a fight, fought through, is
done ; that the only justifiable end of war is true and
lasting peace ; that life was made for love ; that na
tions have a mission and a trust ; that Great Britain
and America are set, for the two hemispheres, to be
the feuglemen of freedom, and the standard-bearers
of the Cross.
These obvious and most enviable truths, God, by
His gracious providence, is making real, in our time.
The ready heart and open hand, which poured the
golden treasures of our garners on the hearths of
starving Ireland, with an eagerness, which gain has
never prompted, an impetuosity which commerce
never felt, touched all the tenderest places in the
British heart : and, when the threatened demonstra
tion of the Chartists, but the other day, frighted "the
isle from its propriety," the pulseless stillness, in
which an anxious nation waited, on our Western
strand, to hear the issue, and the manly burst of joy
ful gladness which welled up to God, to own His
mercy, to the nation and the Church, in which our
fathers worshipped and were nurtured, have stirred
the truest and the deepest pulses of the heart of Eng
land ; and knit her to us, with a bond of cordial, and
I trust, imperishable love. We may well rejoice, that
these things are. The world is stirred, and tossed
and agitated, like a seething caldron. An hour up
turns a throne. Another, and the new republic is
the crater of a new volcano. Another, and perhaps
a throne is cast up, with its fierce and fiery flood
No man can say, this day, what nation on the Conti-

nent of Europe is not involved in civil war. No
man can say, what government is not the creature
and the prey of a mad mob. No man can say, what
instincts of nature are desecrated, what charities of
life are trampled under foot, what holiest places are
profaned. It seems the trial-hour of Europe; and, it
may be, of the world. In human view, the salient
points of hope, for Truth and Freedom ; and for Chris
tianity, as charged with both, and indispensable to
their existence, are, now, America and England. If
God keep us at peace, hold us erect in our position
with the nations, and make us faithful to our trust for
man, the issue, with His blessing, is an issue full of
hope. A new order of things may be established, on
a better basis, and to better purposes. Freedom se
cured by Law. Order enforced by Love. Patriot
ism purified by Religion. The World subjected to
the Cross. Time made the foretaste of Immortality.
That it may be so, let us unite our prayers. That it
may be so, let us combine our efforts. Let us devote
the day to thoughts and offices of love. Let us de
vote our lives to acts and influences of peace. And,
for ourselves, and for our brothers of the blood, and
in the faith, let the one strife hereafter ever be, which
shall do most to realize the angels' hymn, and bring
heaven down to earth : " Glory be to God on high ;
and on earth peace, good will to men ! "
A Poet and a Painter of our own, a Poet and a
Painter for all time, Washington Allston, in years,
now long gone by, uttered such thoughts and senti
ments as these, in words, which cannot die. His no
ble lyric, " England and America," among the very
2

10
noblest of its name, sounds, like a trumpet, through
all time, and thrills through every heart.
Though ages long have past,
Since our fathers left their home,
Their pilot, in the blast,
O'er untravelled seas to roam,
Vet lives the blood of England in our veins ;
And, shall we not proclaim
That blood of honest fame,
Which no tyranny can tame,
By its chains ?
While the language free and bold
Which the bard of Avon sung,
In which our Milton told
How the vault of Heaven rung,
When Satan, blasted, fell with all his host;
While these with reverence meet,
Ten thousand echoes greet,
And, from rock to rock repeat,
Round our coast :
While the manners, while the arts,
That mould a nation's soul,
Still cling around our hearts,
Between, let ocean roll,
Our joint communion breaking with the sun ;
Yet, still, from either beach,
The voice of blood shall reach,
More audible than speech,
We ABE ONE.
And now, this day, as from another generation,
there comes to me, by the last steamer, an echo to
this glorious trumpet-rally of the nations. A dear
young friend,1 the son of one of the best friends I ever
1 George Henry Warren, travelling with his brother, Stephen E. Warren «
both of Troy, New York. They are the sons of Nathan Warren, who was'
the brother of Esaias and Stephen ; the sons of Eliakim and Phebe War
ren. Five names have never stood for more of purity and piety and chari-
ty ; nor has the Church had truer children. They are now all at rest • and
their memory is blessed.

11
had, commended, by my letters, to the true English
hearts, who have enshrined me in their love, visiting
at Albury, the delightful residence of Martin Far-
quhar Tupper, the author of "Proverbial Philoso
phy," an English gentleman, in every highest sense,
and a true Christian Poet, sends me a ballad, written
by Mr. Tupper, in honour of the visit; with the ex
pression of his wish, that I will make it public, in
America. Can I better do it than, here, with you, my
children, and my friends ? You will say, with me,
that, had he known our gathering, he could not have
fitted an apter shaft, nor given it happier aim. It is
dated, "Albury, June 8, 1848;" and is entitled,

A LOVING BALLAD, TO BROTHER JONATHAN;
FROM MARTIN FARQ.VHAR TUPPER.
Ho, brother, I'm a Britisher,
A chip of heart of oak,
That wouldn't warp or swerve or stir,
From what I thought or spoke :
And you, a blunt and honest man,
Straight forward, kind and true ;
I tell you, brother Jonathan,
That you 're a Briton, too !
I know your heart, an open heart,
I read your mind and will ;
A greyhound, ever on the start,
To run for honour, still :
And, shrewd to scheme a likely plan,
And, stout to see it done;
I tell you, brother Jonathan,
That you and I are one.

12
There may be jealousies and strife,
For men have selfish ends ;
But petty quarrels ginger life,
And help to season friends ;
And Pundits, who, with solemn scan,
Judge humans most aright,
Decide it, testy Jonathan,
That brothers always fight.
Two fledgeling sparrows, in one nest,
Will chirp about a worm ;
Then, how should eaglets meekly rest,
The nurslings of the storm 1
No, while their rustled pinions fan
The eyrie's downy side,
Like you and me, my Jonathan,
It 's all for love and pride.
" God save the Queen " delights you still,
And "British Grenadiers ;"
The good old strains your heart-strings thrill,
And hold you by both ears :
And we — 0, hate us, if you can,
For we are proud of you —
We like you, brother Jonathan,
And " Yankee Doodle," too.
There's nothing foreign in your face,
Nor strange upon your tongue ;
You come not of another race,
From baser lineage sprung :
No, brother, though away you ran,
As truant boys will do,
Still, true it is, young Jonathan,
My fathers fathered you.
Time was — it was not long ago —
Your grandsires went with mine,
To battle traitors, blow for blow,
For England's royal line :
Or, tripp'd to court, to kiss Queen Anne,
Or worship royal Bess ;
And you and I, good Jonathan,
Went with them, then, I guess.

13
Together, both — 'twas long ago —
Among the Roses, fought ;
Or, charging fierce the Paynim foe,
Did all knight-errants ought :
As Cavalier or Puritan,
Together pray'd, or swore ;
For, John's own brother, Jonathan,
Was simple John, of yore.
There lived a man, a man of men,
A king, on fancy's throne ;
We ne'er shall see his like again,
The globe is all his own :
And, if we claim him of our clan,
He half belongs to you ;
For, Shakspeare, happy Jonathan,
Is yours, and ours, too.
There was another glorious name,
A poet for all time,
Who gained " the double-first" of fame,
The beautiful, sublime ;
And, let us hide him as we can,
More miserly than pelf,
Our Yankee brother, Jonathan,
Cries " halves !" in Milton's self.
Well, well ;• and every praise of old,
That makes us famous still ;
You would be just, and may be bold,
To share it, if you will :
Since England's glory first began,
Till — just the other day,
The half is yours — but, Jonathan,
Why did you run away?
Oh, brother, could we both be one,
In nation and in name,
How gladly would the very sun
Lie basking in our fame !
In either world, to lead the van,
And " go ahead," for good ;
While each, to John and Jonathan,
Yields tribute-gratitude.

14
Add but your stripes, and golden stars,
To our St. George's Cross ;
And never dream of mutual wars,
Two dunces' mutual loss :
Let us two bless, where others ban,
And love when others hate;
And so, my cordial Jonathan,
We '11 fit, I calculate.
What more 1 I touch not holier strings,
A loftier strain to win ;
Nor glance at prophets, priests and kings,
Or heavenly kith and kin :
As friend with friend, and man with man,
O, let our hearts be thus —
As David's love to Jonathan,
Be Jonathan's to us !

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