We are all familiar with the stated causes for revolt, but they were the excitement of the moment as compared with the pride of conscious strength and the desire America had to be left alone to work out her own problems.
The special grievances, the principles in dispute brought forth the great leaders, but probably their minds were less influenced by them than they imagined, and back of all was the feeling only partially recognized that America was a nation and needed no instruction or guidance from abroad. Of course they did not say that, they were honest in the beginning in disclaiming any idea of independence; they did, with rare exceptions, honestly look forward to a reconciliation with the mother country; but all the while, though they did not see it then, the terms of reconciliation formulated in their minds were impossible of attainment in any other way than by independence.
It does not impugn their good faith or wisdom that like all great leaders of revolutions they failed to estimate the force of the current bearing them on; but it is plain to our eyes that a revolt in the name of the King against the Parliament to establish rights that King and Parliament alike desired to[8] withhold was a fiction which in the nature of things could only be temporary, and which the first clash of arms was certain to dissipate into thin air. Events moved too fast for men’s control, and independence came because no other result than that of absolute submission was possible.
Consider for a moment how rapidly at last America drifted towards revolution and separation, and how each step forward, as usual, lopped off the hesitating and timid, and made it more and more difficult for the bolder leaders to retrace their path.
In 1761 James Otis struck the keynote in his great argument against the writs of assistance,—the general principles of independence which operated later were then so clearly enunciated that the people caught the breath of freedom, and the unrest and turmoil and frequent outbreaks during the nine years following showed that the lesson could not be unlearned.
March 5, 1770, came the Boston Massacre on State Street, the first conflict of the Revolution, in which the people were stricken down by murderous bullets; December 16, 1773, the mob openly defied British law by throwing the tea overboard in Boston Harbor; May, 1774, General Gage arrived in Boston to assume the position of Royal Governor, and was escorted from Long Wharf to the Town House in King, now State, Street by the Boston Cadets, under the command of John Hancock, probably the last act of loyalty to Great Britain by the Corps or its officers; June 1, 1774, the Port of Boston was closed by Act of Parliament; September, 1774, the Continental Congress or Conference of States gathered at Philadelphia; October 5, 1774, the Massachusetts House of Representatives met at Salem, summoned by Governor Gage, and being notified that their meeting was revoked, immediately constituted themselves a Provincial Congress, assumed administration,[9] and passed orders for putting the Province into a condition for defence,—the winter passed in fruitless disputes with the Governor and Royal officers, but the Congress was busy with active and positive work nearly approaching rebellion; April 19, 1775, the natural result came in the fight at Lexington and Concord, fairly opening the Revolution, and followed by the gathering of a large army of half-armed troops at Cambridge to besiege Boston, the Continental Congress finding a commander for them in the person of George Washington; May 10, 1775, Ticonderoga and Crown Point were taken by force; on June 17, 1775, before Washington had reached the army, Bunker Hill was fought; March 17, 1776, Boston was evacuated by the British, the scene of action was transferred to a larger field at New York, and then, July 4, 1776, came the time to write the Revolution into the Declaration of Independence, so that the world might behold the new nation and find also a government with a novelty, one that based itself upon certain ideal truths, and thus differentiated the American Revolution from all preceding revolutions.
However old the subject may be, and however hopeless the thought of adding anything new to the discussion, it may still be interesting to consider this extraordinary Declaration from a purely historical standpoint, and to revive our recollections of its truths, as well as to consider how far in reality they were intended to go. As no political party has any proprietorship in those truths, and no party has yet taken a position in opposition to them, we can freely discuss them in the hope of clarifying our view of the deeper meaning of the Revolution. Present conditions are not to be considered in this discussion, we are now concerned only with the question of the permanent or transitory nature of the document itself, and of its effectiveness as a rule of national conduct.
Separating from the Declaration its catalogue of specific and temporary reasons for revolt, its whole purport is to set[10] forth—the natural freedom and equality of all men before the law; the fundamental right of those governed to pass upon the form of government they shall live under, and to subvert it if not satisfactory; and the right of all men to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,—this last phrase seeming a broad generalization capable of wide interpretation.
No one of these doctrines was original with the signers, and the Committee reporting the Declaration made no pretence to have originated them. Every principle had been stated and advocated long before by European philosophers and writers,—and the claim has been made that the Declaration itself bore a strong resemblance to that of the United Netherlands,—but it was the first practical application of such principles to an actual system of popular government. The author of the Declaration said in later years, “I did not consider it as any part of my charge to invent new ideas altogether, and to offer no sentiment which had ever been expressed before.”
It may properly be regarded, therefore, as a crystallization of old theories, and as such its promulgation excited surprise in Europe, mingled with a good deal of skepticism as to its being a working basis for government or as to the possibility of adherence to it in practice. This feeling was a natural one, for if its doctrines were true and extended elsewhere the prospect was dark for theories of the divine right of kings, of despotic power, or even of current monarchical systems; and therein lies the very pith of the Declaration, and it was no wonder that when the seeds sown here ripened a little later in France and the bloody revolution there ended in a military despotism the prophets of evil quickly seized upon the result as a practical test and welcome proof of the absurdity of our position.
In the Orient it made no impression and in fact had no meaning, for such theories were not within the Oriental conception;[11] nor are they now so far as they spell Republicanism.
Dr. Edward Everett Hale recently sent a letter to an United States Senator, which well represents how such doctrines impress the Oriental mind, and is worth quoting as follows:
“When Commodore Perry opened the ports of Japan the Japanese Government had in prison a young fellow from Washington Territory who had been shipwrecked on their coast,—he was in prison only because he was a foreigner. They cross-examined him and asked him what officer in our government held higher rank than the men they knew. He said the officers of the Navy had to obey the Secretary of the Navy, and that he was under the President. They asked him who was greater than the President. This boy said that ‘the people is greater than the Presidency,’ and in giving the account of this afterward he said, ‘of this they could make nothing.’”
In other words, “a government of the people for the people and by the people” was not within their purview.
When the Declaration was signed and issued to the country as a platform for a new nation, it can hardly be doubted that its doctrines were believed by its authors, and by those who accepted it, to be applicable to every people and to all times,—notwithstanding the recognized fact that unfortunate conditions here regarding African slavery revealed an apparent inconsistency.
How far the words of the Declaration applied to negro slaves will always be disputed, but that Jefferson intended no exception is to be gathered from his oft-quoted expressions, and from the fact that in the original draft the British Government were severely condemned for establishing slavery here and not repressing the slave trade. The historian Bancroft expressed in his history the Jeffersonian view, saying, “The heart of Thomas Jefferson in writing the Declaration, and of Congress in adopting it, beat for all humanity; the assertion of right was made for all mankind and all coming generations, without any exception whatever,[12] for the proposition which admits of exceptions can never be self-evident.”
It should be added that at that time, North and South, it was the opinion that slavery would soon disappear, and it was only unforeseen inventions which changed the situation. But taking whatever view we please of the intention of the makers in this regard, there can be no question that the Declaration announced important and high ideals for the future. Jefferson emphasized this when he said, “It is indeed an animating thought that while we are securing the rights of ourselves and our posterity we are pointing out the way to struggling nations who wish like us to emerge from their tyrannies also,” and again, “Every man and every body of men on earth possesses the right of self government. They receive it with their being from the hand of nature.” And so Charles Sumner later said, “The words that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed are sacred words, full of life-giving energy. Not simply national independence was here proclaimed, but also the primal rights of all mankind.” Abraham Lincoln said, “In these early days the Declaration of Independence was held sacred by all and thought to include all;” and again, “If that Declaration is not the truth, let us get the Statute book in which we find it and tear it out.” These statements have been echoed and re-echoed by all our great statesmen, from Washington and Adams and Jefferson to Webster, Sumner, and Lincoln; they have even been asserted more than once in political platforms of great parties, and wherever the voice of dissent was feebly raised and doubters found, it was until recent times invariably among the apologists for slavery, or among those who feared interference with it, never by the men whom we of the present day look upon as leaders, or whose interpretation we would ever have been willing to follow.