LESSON XIX. DAVID C. BRODERICK. BY COL. E. D. BAKER. Edward Dickinson Baker, the orator, statesman, and soldier, was born in London, 1811. His parents came to the United States, and settled at Philadelphia in 1816. His parents were persons of education and high character, and early instilled into the heart of their gifted son the noblest principles. In 1828, his father having died, young Baker removed to Carrolton, Illinois, and studied law. He was a Major in the Black Hawk War of 1832. He rapidly rose to distinction in the legal profession, and was elected a member of Congress from Illinois in 1845. He served with the highest distinction in the Mexican War as Colonel of an Illinois regiment. He served in the Thirty-first Congress as member from Galena District, Illinois, and removed to California in 1852, where he soon took a leading position at the bar. In 1860 Colonel Baker removed to Oregon, and in six months was returned to the U. S. Senate from that State. In 1861 he left his seat in the Senate and entered the war for the Union as the Colonel of a regiment, and died heroically fighting for the cause he loved, October 21, 1861. He was one of the most brilliant and powerful of American orators. The following is an extract from his oration over the body of Senator David C. Broderick, of California, who fell in a duel, near San Francisco, September 13, 1859. A SENATOR lies dead in our midst! He is wrapped in a bloody shroud, and we, to whom his toils and cares were given, are about to bear him to the place appointed for all the living. It is not fit that such a man should pass to the tomb unheralded; it is not fit that such a life should steal unnoticed to its close; it is not fit that such a death should call forth no rebuke, or be followed by no public lamentation. It is this conviction which impels the gathering of this assemblage. We are here of every station and pursuit, of every creed and character, each in his capacity of citizen, to swell the mournful tribute which the majesty of the people offers to the unreplying dead. 2. He lies to-day surrounded by little of funeral pomp. No banners droop above the bier, no melancholy music floats. upon the reluctant air. The hopes of high-hearted friends droop like fading flowers upon his breast, and the struggling sigh compels the tear in eyes that seldom weep. Around him are those who have known him best and loved him longest ; who have shared the triumph, and endured the defeat. Near him are the gravest and noblest of the State, possessed by a grief at once earnest and sincere; while beyond, the masses of the people whom he loved, and for whom his life was given, gather like a thunder-cloud of swelling and indignant grief. 3. In such a presence, fellow-citizens, let us linger for a moment at the portals of the tomb, whose shadowy arches vibrate to the public heart, to speak a few brief words of the man, of his life, and of his death. Up to the time of his arrival in California, his life had been passed amid events incident to such a character. Fearless, self-reliant, open in his enmities, warm in his friendships, wedded to his opinions, and marching directly to his purpose through and over all opposition, his career was checkered with success and defeat; but even in defeat his energies were strengthened and his character developed. 4. When he reached these shores, his keen observation taught him at once that he trod a broad field, and that a higher career was before him. He had no false pride: sprung from a people and of a race whose vocation was labor, he toiled with his own hands, and sprang at a bound from the workshop to the legislative hall. From that time there congregated around him and against him the elements of success and defeat-strong friendships, bitter enmities, high praise, malignant calumnies-but he trod with a free and a proud step that onward path which has led him to glory and the grave. 5. Fellow-citizens! the man whose body lies before you was your Senator. From the moment of his election his character has been maligned, his motives attacked, his courage impeached, his patriotism assailed. It has been a system tending to one end: and the end is here. What was his crime? Review his history-consider his public acts-weigh his private character-and before the grave incloses him forever, judge between him and his enemies! * * * * * * * * * 6. As a man-to be judged in his private relations--who PACIFIC COAST SERIES. 101 was his superior? It was his boast, and amid the general license of a new country, it was a proud one, that his most scrutinizing enemy could fix no single act of immorality upon him! Temperate, decorous, self-restrained, he had passed through all the excitements of California, unstained. Νο man could charge him with broken faith or violated trust; of habits simple and inexpensive, he had no lust of gain. He overreached no man's weakness in a bargain, and withheld from no man his just dues. Never, in the history of the State, has there been a citizen who has borne public relations, more stainless in all respects than he. 7. Fellow-citizens! One year ago to-day I performed a duty, such as I perform to-day, over the remains of Senator Ferguson, who died as Broderick died, tangled in the meshes of the code of honor. To-day there is another and more eminent sacrifice. To-day I renew my protest; to-day I utter yours. The code of honor is a delusion and a snare; it palters with the hope of a true courage and binds it at the feet of crafty and cruel skill. It surrounds its victim with the pomp and grace of the procession, but leaves him bleeding on the altar. 8. It substitutes cold and deliberate preparation for courageous and manly impulse, and arms the one to disarm the other; it may prevent fraud between practiced duelists who should be forever without its pale, but it makes the mere "trick of the weapon" superior to the noblest cause and the truest courage. Its pretense of equality is a lie-it is equal in all the form, it is unjust in all the substance—the habitude of arms, the early training, the frontier life, the border war, the sectional custom, the life of leisure, all these are advantages which no negotiation can neutralize, and which no courage can overcome. 9. And now, as the shadows turn toward the East, and we prepare to bear these poor remains to their silent restingplace, let us not seek to repress the generous pride which prompts a recital of noble deeds and manly virtues. He rose unaided and alone; he began his career without family or fortune, in the face of difficulties; he inherited poverty and obscurity; he died a Senator in Congress, having written his name in the history of the great struggle for the rights of the people against the despotism of organization and the corruption of power. 10. He leaves in the hearts of his friends the tenderest and the proudest recollections. He was honest, faithful, earnest, sincere, generous and brave; he felt in all the great crises of his life that he was a leader in the ranks, that it was his high duty to uphold the interests of the masses; that he could not falter. When he returned from that fatal field, while the dark wing of the Archangel of Death was casting its shadows upon his brow, his greatest anxiety was as to the performance of his duty. He felt that all his strength and all his life belonged to the cause to which he had devoted them. 11. 66 'Baker," said he-and to me they were his last words -"Baker, when I was struck I tried to stand firm, but the blow blinded me, and I could not." I trust it is no shame to my manhood that tears blinded me as he said it. Of his last hour I have no heart to speak. He was the last of his race; there was no kindred hand to smooth his couch or wipe the death-damp from his brow; but around that dying bed strong men, the friends of early manhood, the devoted adherents of later life, bowed in irrepressible grief, "and lifted up their voices and wept." 12. But, fellow-citizens, the voice of lamentation is not uttered by private friendship alone—the blow that struck his manly breast has touched the heart of a people, and, as the sad tidings spread, a general gloom prevails. Who now shall speak for California?—who be the interpreter of the wants of the Pacific Coast? "Ah! who that gallant spirit shall relume, Leap from Eurotas' bank, and call us from the tomb?" 13. But the last word must be spoken, and the imperious mandate of Death must be fulfilled. Thus, O brave heart! we bear thee to thy rest. Thus, surrounded by tens of thousands, we leave thee to the equal grave. As in life, no other voice among us so rung its trumpet blast upon the ear of freemen, so in death its echoes will reverberate amid our mountains and valleys, until truth and valor cease to appeal to the human heart. Good friend! true hero! hail and farewell. LESSON XX. THE VAGABONDS. BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE. John Townsend Trowbridge was born in Ogden, Western New York, 1827. He received a common-school education, and at the age of nineteen went to New York city for the purpose of devoting himself to literature. His progress in the great metropolis was slow, and he suffered many privations, sleeping in a garret, and living often on merely a crust. He went to Boston in 1850, and there his literary career began to brighten. Within a few years, Father Brighthopes, Burrcliff, and a few other stories, successively appeared, and immediately became popular. They were written for young folks, but were read by all classes. Among his other works are Martin Merrivale, Neighbor Jackwood, The Old Battle Ground, Cudjoe's Cave, Coupon Bonds, and The South. He is equally well known by his poetical and miscellaneous writings. E are two travelers, Roger and I. Roger's my dog. Come here, you scamp! Jump for the gentleman-mind your eye! The rogue is growing a little old: Five years we've tramped through wind and weather, 2. We've learned what comfort is, I tell you: |