of Franklin, which is so simple, adequate and just. Fortunate old man! To whom was granted the privilege of thus erecting for himself a monument, which shall endure as long as his country shall continue to be bound together, by the tie which it was the labor of his life to form. At the age of eighty-two, Franklin was at last permitted to close the lengthened period of his public service. Yet the consenting voice of those among whom he had lived and among whom he was soon to die, continued to the last, to crown with daily and undiminished evidences of approbation, respect and honor, his latest, as they had done his earliest years. A fame, long since justly won in this narrower sphere, had spread farther and wider as time had rolled or, and distant nations had now united to acknowledge, with ready justice, that the course of his life had been a lesson for mankind. But beyond all this, far dearer to him than the tribute from the world abroad, perhaps even dearer than the tribute from those among whom he dwelt, was the touching language of him, who alone surpassed him in their common country's grateful love, and who saw with sadness the close, now fast approaching, of his usefulness on earth; of him who could bestow no praise which was undeserved, as he was unable to withhold that which was sanctioned by his judgment, and rose spontaneously from his heart. Let me conclude the estimate I have ventured to express of the character and services of Franklin, with the words of Washington, as they were laid upon his couch, when he was suffering with the pain of his last disease. "Would to God," are his touching expressions, "that your existence might close with as much ease to yourself, as its continuance has been beneficial to our country and useful to mankind; or, if the united wishes of a free people, joined with the earnest prayers of every friend to science and humanity, could relieve the body from pains and infirmities, that you could claim an exemption on this score. But this cannot be, and you have within yourself the only resource to which we can confidently apply for relief, a philosophic mind. If to be venerated for benevolence, if to be admired for talents, if to be esteemed for patriotism, if to be beloved for philanthropy, can gratify the human mind, you must have the pleasing consolation to know that you have not lived in vain. And I flatter myself that it will not be ranked among the least grateful occurrences of your life to be assured, that, so long as I retain my memory, you will be recollected with respect, veneration and affection by your sincere friend." These were the words of Washington. Memorable words which unite such names together at the close of life. And oh! how cheering to humanity is the thought, that they shall forever remain united, not by their own friendship only, not only by the respect and love of their own country, but by the consenting judgment of the world; that these two men, now so illustrious, but once so humble-the land-surveyor of Virginia and the printer of Pennsylvania - the widow's the widow's son and the self-relying apprentice boy-shall stand together on the pinnacle of worldly honor, the best and proudest proof that virtue, and generous love of our fellow-beings, and devotion of life and talents to their welfare, in sunshine or in storm, can secure a glory more exalted than has ever been won by conquerors or kings. HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF PENNSYLVANIA, AT THE Celebration of the 170th Anniversary of the Landing of Penn, PROCEEDINGS OF THE CELEBRATION, WITH ADDRESSES AT THE The seventh toast was The Treaty under the Elm; in which wisdom dealt with simplicity, yet did not deceive: and power gave terms to weakness, yet did not oppress. On this sentiment being given by the President, Mr. HENRY D. GILPIN said he was desirous not to suffer it to pass, without offering a few remarks; as he saw among the guests, who had honored the Society with their presence, a gentleman (Mr. Fernon) who, impelled by a generous and honorable sympathy, while he represented the county of Philadelphia in the State Legislature, had not forgotten, in the midst of his political duties, the incident in our history to which the sentiment alluded; and had introduced and been instrumental in obtaining the passage of a law, by which a public square is hereafter to be set apart in commemoration of it. All people, sir, said Mr. Gilpin, have among them places, whose local associations recall to them incidents and men, whom they justly desire to keep in lively remembrance. The spirit of association which sanctifies the dwelling of Washington, and hallows the rock where the stormtossed pilgrims of New England founded for liberty and religion an enduring home, is the same which has made dear to the Englishman and the Swiss the birth-place of Shakspeare and the battle-field of Murat-is the same which, in times long before, preserved and pointed out the gulf of Curtius, in the midst of the Roman forum, and turned aside Alexander in his rapid march of conquest, that he might visit the deserted shores of the Scamander, where Achilles fought, and of which Homer sung. There is, indeed, something in our nature -to borrow the idea of him whose eloquence was ever blended with the finest human sympathies-by which such scenes, when visited, excite sensations more lively than the best told story of the events and men with which they are connected, is ever able to awaken. And we, too, in Philadelphia, are not without our cherished scenes of local association; nor is it an ungenerous vanity to say, that the sentiments which they excite, and by which we are attracted to them, are in their nature even more noble and better in their influences than those that are kindled by any spot where a patriot has lived or a poet has sung-where a warrior has triumphed, or an exile of freedom has found a home. Our cherished spots of local association are the Hall of Independence and the treaty ground of Penn. It is no mere connection with illustrious names, or acts of brilliant genius, enterprise or courage that imparts to them their interest; but it is that from them--as was claimed for the oracles of old -deep, sacred and enduring truths were promulgated, which had, and are still to have, the most lasting influences upon the welfare and progress of man. It is not the memory of the men who sat in the Hall of Independence, that makes us pass with reverence beneath its portals, but because great truths were there made the basis of a social compact which nearly a century has already shown, and we may trust that many future centuries are yet to prove, to be most fitted to procure the prosperity and happiness of our race. It is no thought of the group collected beneath the Elm Tree at Shackamaxon-the graceful and manly form of Penn, serene in conscious virtue, his countenance beaming with hope and the belief that his "holy experiment" was successfully begun; nor the patient and trusting crowd of "friends" around, who were to benefit by and perfect it; nor the circle of red men, whose wild natures were already yielding to the influences of Christian justice, forbearance and love—it is not the thought of this scene, attractively as the genius of the artist might depict it, which makes us dedicate the well-remembered spot. It is because therebeneath the canopy of heaven and the primeval forest; there-in the presence of civilized and savage man, the representatives at once of the future and the past-the glad tidings were announced, to be borne back on one hand across 66 the ocean on the wings of hope and promise, and on the other into the recesses of the unreclaimed forest, that a State was to be founded "by deeds of peace,' and with equal and considerate justice to all men who claimed its shelter or protection. No written record—no parchment with its dangling seals-has handed down to us the words of Penn, or the proceedings of that memorable council; but a faithful tradition assures us that it aimed at no end of commerce or of gain; that it sought only to announce, in language and with ceremonies that would not be forgotten, principles that should be sacredly adhered to in the commonwealth he was founding. Ere he had crossed the Atlantic-almost before the gift of his province was perfected-Penn had publicly made known to the "friends" who should embark with him, the "frame of government" under which their "holy experiment" was to be commenced; he had promised to secure to them the fullest rights of self-government, and "all that good and free men could reasonably desire, for the security and improvement of their own happiness.' "Let the Lord," he said, " guide me by his wisdom to honor his name, and to serve his truth and people, so that an example and a standard may be set up to the nations." Nor was it for the white man only that his plans of justice and benevolence were formed. He remembered too, "the poor savage people who believed in God and the soul without the aid of metaphysics," but who had yet to know and to be secured "in their rights as men." In advance of his contemplated voyage-to guard them against fears not unreasonable-he sent them a letter, which was read to them by interpreters. "God," said he, "hath written his law in our hearts, by which we are taught and commanded to love, and help, and do good to one another; now this great God hath been pleased to make me concerned in your part of the world, and I desire that we may always live together as neighbors and friends. I desire to win and gain your love and friendship by a kind, just and peaceable life, and the people I send are of the same mind, and shall in all things behave themselves accordingly; and if, in any thing, any shall offend you or your people, you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the same, by an equal number of just men on both sides, that by no means you may have just occasion of being offended against them. I shall shortly come to you myself, at which time we may more largely and freely confer and discourse on these matters." And come he did; and beneath the Elm Tree at Shackamaxon his promise was redeemed. There, under that broad canopy which nature spreads for all her children, he gathered together, not alone "the poor, dark souls round about him," but the "friends" from every land who had listened to his cheering promises-from England, from Wales, from Sweden, from Holland, from the Rhine. There, were his hopes, his promises, and his plans renewed. There, were they explained with all the eloquence of sincerity and truth, so that even from the sealed heart of the Red man burst forth the irrepressible response-" We will live in love with Uncas and his children, as long as the moon and the sun shall endure." It was beneath an oak tree in the plain of Hebron, whose site a pious tradition long kept in remembrance, that the patriarch dwelt and spread around him the sacred lessons of the true religion. Under a plane-tree, near the banks of the Ilissus, Socrates disclosed to his assembled followers the doctrines of a philosophy almost divine. The great statesman and orator of Rome has preserved for us the eloquent record of the conferences of the most distinguished of her sons, in the tranquil shade of a plane-tree on the slopes of Tusculum. But of neither of these will the grateful tradition be more long and reverently preserved, than that which will consecrate the Elm Tree beneath whose branches was proclaimed the motives, the objects, and the plans of him whose name is, and forever will be, joined with that of the community which he founded. |