The reflector. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1817-1819, February 17, 1818, Image 1
THE REFLECTOR.
VO L. I.
MILLEDGEVILLE, G. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1818.
NO. 15.
MISCELLANY.
ORATION ON PATRIOTISM.
a young gentleman who Was graduated in the ITniver-
sityot' Pennsylvania, m July, 1812.
Of the many virtues which adorn tho hu
ll character there is none, perhaps, which
cds a more celestial light around it than
at of patriotism.
It is pure and undiluted in its nature—it is
-e fit generous in its object. Increasing and
paneling, it pursues the lovely and majestic
or of its way, unmindful of danger, and
guided by self-interest. Personal aggran-
zeinent forms no scheme in its conception,
ncere in its principle, bold in its genius,
d universal in its wish, it partakes of the
-cended spirit of Christianity, and cmbrac-
the whole family of man.
In the character of patriotism, the cthc-
al essence of philanthropy is united, which,
ke a ray from Heaven, touches the human
-art, and kindles into generosity the other
ame of divine original. When we take a
ew of the society of nations, our feelings,
der the active influence of its virtuous
’mpathy, either rise with joy, or sink \vith
•ief, at the prospect of happiness or the pre-
nce of misery. And, if we cannot assist
ith our efforts, we can at least indulge in
e pious wish that happiness may he found
hcrpvcr the foot-steps of man can be trac-
Yes, patriotism is a heavenly gift, and
genial region is in the heart of man. It
not confined to the cabinet of the states-
an, nor to the camp of the soldier. The
nfortunato individual who, in the arms of
gony and death, expires with a prayer on
is tremulous lip for the prosperity of his
ountry, is no less a patriot than lie who is
naWed to breathe tin* heroic ardor to adven-
urous deeds. What an interesting and af-
ccting group of patriots might we not sc
cctfroin history, who, with colorless checks
ml eyes hediined with the full and radient
ear of affection, have spent their last breath
n a blessing on their country. It is, indeed,
lie excellence <4 the man that forms the
“orth of the patriot, and he is to be found as
•ell in the poor retreat of penury and want
s under the courtly canopies of luxury and
vealth. Nor is it necessary
” To cut figures of iruirshaU’d hosts,
To describe the motions and explain the use
Of the deep column, and the lengthen’d iinc,”
put forth a claim to the nacm of patriot,
f heroes and patriots were thus closely alii
d| our feelings would revolt at thcloathsoini
onfusion of the picture which our fancy
•ould lay before us. The modern Atilla.
ho now brandishes his baleful sceptre over
he faint and exhausted spirit of Europe,
ould stand in some comparative relation
ith that character, whose “ Grave is in
’Odder skies,” ami Which has hern pronounc
'd by the world “ as the beRt example of a
erfect human being.” We should perceive
in the same assemblage a fiend and a saint, a
estroyer and a redeemer, a Bonaparte and
Washington. Poets have said that one mur
der makes a villain, but millions a hero
So let it be with the emperor of France,
ut not so with the patriot of America; who
as left an imperishable, if not an inimitable
sample of every thing great in man, and
lorious in the sight of God.
“ The spirits of the good, vho bent from high,
Wide o’er these earthly scenes, their partial eye,
Mistook a mortal, for an anpcl guest,
And ask’d what seraph foot die earth impress’d.”
ut let us not loiter with this almost impious
ntithesis for the purpose of shewing that
he love of country is intimately related with
lie most pure and exalted feelings of the
heart. We all must know, that it is not of a
onely and solitary character, bufcfthat it is
ccompanied and supported in Sts train by
he best and brightest attribute of our na
tive. When we consult the mirror whicl
he historic muse holds before ns, wepecceiv
bat the patriots of past times shine in all
lie mild, but resplendent lustee that is re
cried from moral worth and virtue. Th
baracters, indeed, of a good man and a pa-
riot are so ineffably blended, that it is hav
y possible to trace the least tint of distinc-
ion between them. It would seem, indeed
hat nature had formed this passion with pe-
uliar fondness, and that she infused it into
ur souls at the moment of creation. Co-
xistent with our birth—co-eternal with our
ives. Unlike the transitory patriotism of
isguised ambition, it is a pure and tran
Cendant love which We continually feel
’Inch we can never subdue, and which we
an never forget for the spot of our nativity
t is a principle of affection which coinmcne-
d and has continued with the roll of time,
nil will never be extinct until nature herself
tall expire.
In ancient ages it was deemed the highest
Ttue—the want of it the deepest vice. He
lat was thought to he without it was an oh
•ct of scorn and execration ; whilst he that
as in any way distinguished by it was bleS'
<1 with tho prayers and honors of his conn
y> and impiously, perhaps, consecrated as
God. In every circle of the globe we shall
nd tills principle binding them to the land
rtf their birtlNrith a force no reason can c-
lude—no persuason can deceive—no patience
can destroy—no lapse of time can forget.
No matter how ungenial the climate, how op
pressive the government, or how unfriendly
the soil, it seems impossible for man to trans
plant bis affections. No matter wlmt re
script of power, or what disastrous tissue of
circumstances may have forced him away,
his heart never ceases to beat when if is men
tioned ; and being full of the recollection of
his native scenery, or some touching associa
tion of events in his youth, he finds himself
unable to suppress a sigh and a wish to re
turn to his home. Such is tho potent, the
mystical control of his passion, that even
the untutored tenant of a forest would not
exchange it for the fabled beauties of a Par
adise. The instances which might be adduc
ed in conformation of this truth are too many
for the prescribed limits of this essay’. It is
well known that this anxious solicitude for
aur natal spot has been so active and irre
pressible, that it lias given rise to a malady
known in the medical science under the term
of “ nostalgia.” Even a musical air lias
been sulticient to produce it. The soldiers
>f Switzerland, no matter where they are
destined, fly back to their native mountains
as soon as they hear the inspiring spirit of
their “ Ronz de Vnelies.” This exquisite
degree of sensibility, however, is notconfin-
d to them alone.. Even life dull and torpid
Sanmicde could never be allured to leave th
shores of the Frozen Ocean to reside in all
the splendor of a polished and magnificent
court. The Indian of Otaheitu, who was
onducted into the royal garden at Paris,
upon, seeing the paper mulberry tree, which
they manufactured into cloth, could not ab
stain from weeping, and clasping it in his
arms, exclaimed, ” Ah tree of my country !’
Phis is not only’ the case with the uncducat
ed man, but likewise with the acadcmian and
philosopher. His feelings will forever con
vince him of the futility and the mockery of
his learning and his logic. He may adjust
his features with composure—lie may force
his mind into a state of rest, but his heart
will always bound in delight with the re
membrance of his country. ’Tis a claim
which nature holds upon her offspring, which
she will never abandon, and which we must
all acknowledge in despite of scholastic pride
end sublety. The heart will retain its feel
ings, anil, like some “ poor bird that is liunt-
i d irom her nest, it will return to the place
wf her affections, and after some vain efforts
to fly off, will settle again where all its cares
and tendernesses are centred.”
This transient and imperfect sketch is
intended to show, that nature herself has
laid the foundation of patriotism—” that
column of true majesty in man,”
With Theorists, whose “ speculations
arc roosted near the sky,” it is common to
consider it as a derivation and acquired
sentiment. But it is nut my purpose to
touch upon this polemic point. Casuists
and metaphysicians may enjoy themselves
in all the solitude rtf abstraction : it is not
my wish to disturb them ; but the feelings
of my nature give way to the truth of these
cmarks, and no matter what unexpected
doom may befall my country or myself, 1
an never cease to love it with pride and
with joy.
If, then, these affections are found to ex
ist in rude, uneducated life, in so .much
luxuriance and vigour, they ouglit surely
to increase and sefine, to bloom and blos
som in all the sweetness of perfection, under
the temperature of the happiest govern
ment on the face of the earth.
These combined considerations should
miniate us to unite in all the various offices
if society, in order to attain and enjoy social
md political happiness. In doing this, we
perform at the same time, the duties of the
liristian and the citizen. It is this that
enobles the man, and gives the distinguish
ing stamp to the patriot—The patriot wears
no livery, is stationed iti no circle, belongs
to no profession :—He is not to be told by
the colors of his dress, the melody of his
voice, the metrical balance of his words, or
the critical exactness of his prosody or his
periods. He is to be found on the furrows
of a plough, as well as on the area of a
camp—as well upon the smooth, green turf
of the yeoman, as under the gaudy pavilion
of the tented hero. His wish should be al
ways for peace, his solicirude always for
the welfare of his country.
But do not understand me to mean any
thing like submission to aggression and
wrong. No, the same principle that leads
us to Jove and adore the soil of our birth,
must always inspire us with energy and
courage to guard and protect it. In peace,
I could wish to sec him the pure, tho pious,
the unaffected Christian ; the wise, the
virtuous, the illustrious man—Devout to
his Maker—Devoted to his country.
But in defence of his rights and liberty,
I could wish to see Lightning flash from bis
eye, and echoing thunders roll from his
arm. In peace a Howard j in \yar a Wash
ington. Such is a patriot. Such was tho
father of his country : and at this moment,*
when I look upon the angry fafo of affairs,
with declared war upon its brow, my fan
cy, or my hope, would lead me to think, that
in speaking of patriotism, I held commu
nion, with his spirit, and that his smiling
benedictory vision entreated us to love ami
to take care of our country.
•2d of July, 1812.
PUBLIC INSTRUCTION.
A splendid project of public instruction
lias passed the legislature of Virginia. It
is a scheme that would in any age, have con
ferred immortallity on the genius of the in
ventor. The aims of this plan of education
are not only truly original and comprehen
sive, but the apparatus for effecting them is
the most complicated and wonderful ever im-
gined, wo believe by the wit of man. Our
readers must judge for themselves, from our
imperfect sketch, of the boldness and gran
deur of the outline. Our limits do not per
mit us to display to view as much as we could
wish, of that immense stork of ingenuity
which has been wasted on the device. It
exhibits' we arc sure, a prodigality of in
vention, for a tiling of the sort, without a
parallel.
II bat will the reader say to a plan of pub
lic education, that designs the instruction of
some where about two thousand primary
schools, as they arc denominated, or schools
of common instruction, as a foundation for
a superstructure of this kind ? but what if
he is told, that this wide base is to he built
upon, on a proportionably vast and magni
ficent scale of architecture. Well maybe
be astonished at the genius of the architect,
when he is informed, that this plan of edu
cation is to ascend in regular gradation, af
ter full provision has been made for the pri
mary schools, to the erection of five colleg
es, forty eight academics, and one univer
sity, each with a separate corporation, com
posed of trustees, yet the whole confronted
by one master incorporation to be entitled
“ -I he board of public instruction,” to be an
nually elected by’ the general assembly ; but
who are invested with the power to prescribe
the course of instruction and discipline of
ihc whole. Here is regulation on a stupen
dous scale. . This is a state of monopoly of
education, in all its branches, with all the
complete uniformity and ste/ncss of system.
This is taking the subject of education in
hand, from beginning to end—this is to train
genius under rule and system, and by the
lights which literary corporations so happily
furnish—this is toistimulato literary ambition
by the surest of all incentives.
But to speak in another strain. IVc had
Imped that such follies, we had almost said
fopperies, were among the discarded theo-
riesof weak and visonary understandings.
We had expected to see experience furnish
better lights, in this age of liberal know
ledge, than to witness the education of youth
subjected to the meddling, impertinent, ca
pricious spirit of regulation, which all cor
porate bodies, entrusted with large powers,
are but too prone to display. We in short
expected to find, on the subject of instruc-
lion, the principle of competion in the teach
ers, and of emulation in the pupils better
understood by men professing to be legisla
tors. We, at any rate, did not calculate to
find the hand of government here also—and
to behold a system of public instruction,
radically unsound in principle, propped and
bolstered up with every kind of artificial re
gulation that could well be devised.
What, we would ask, can the common
wealth off Virginia promise itself from this
forced and unnatural scheme ? Is it to make
better men fit better citizens, Unit the genius
of youth is to be tramclled bv the plans and
discipline often men, because they happen to
ho called “ The board of public instruction?”
instead of permitting the development of
their capacities to depend upon a system of
instruction, framed under the person
al experience of their teachers. What can
lie expected from general rules, for the edu
cation of youth, from men who ibis proba
ble, will very often (as the election of this
board is to be annual) be destitute not only of
a proper experience on the subject, but of the
general qualifications to form a system of in
struction. But, perhaps, it is to kindle gra
titude to the state, in the breast of the pupil,
and nurse the flame of patriotism, by letting
him feel the extent of his obligation to the
government, which has kindly taken the
care of his education into its own hand—or
it may even be, principally, to nourish with
in him a firmer attachment to the principles
of civil liberty—to make his education tho
roughly republican, by instructing him in
the liberal maxims on which free institutions
depend, that he is to be led onwards by the
state through all tho degrees of his education
On this point our limits do not permit us now
to say any thing, but we hope to resume the
subject shortly again.—Southern Patriot.
PHENOMENON OF INTELLIGENCE.
“ There exists at present ih the depart*
mentof the He and Villainean individual,
who, after having lost the use of his eyes for
10 years, continued the head of a Financial
Administration.. Those who approached
him, attested that he performed his duties
with a sagicity seldom in error, A total
deafness having compelled him to resign his
mployment, lie confined himself to conduct
ing his personal affairs in the bosom of his
family. He has been seen communicating
with it by means of moving characters plac
ed in his hands. Though blind, lie caused a
house of an elegant construction to bo built
011 bis own plan, & superintended tho execu
tion of it himself. A cruel reduction of bis
faculties did not prevent bim from moulding
in wax, a garden of an agreeable taste ; and
causing.himself to be borne to the place.—
He lias, more than once, by the exquisitness
of his touch, rectified the labor of tho work
man. The rigor of Heaven reserved lor
him a complete paralysis of the arms, legs,
thighs, and the exterior surface of the body.
Attacked in the last moral relations he had
created, he would soon have become extinct,
if in casually rubbing his check it had not
been discovered that this last sad asylum
still remained to his sensibility. Then, in
conformity with bis desires, for he bad not
yet lost the use of his voice, characters were
traced on that part of his fare whence feel
ing had not fled. Some initial letters suf
fice for his intelligence, when ho asks ques
tions respecting the material concerns of life.
Other objects of conversation have also their
abbreviations. This surprising being in his
unexampled misery, still retains some sweet
affections. The hand of his wife, of his
daughter, or of a friend causes his heart to
palpitate by some sure but unknown commu
nications.—Reduced to the action of the. pul
monary organ, and a single digestive tube,
he disputes with the grave, ami with soino
degree of success, the distinctive characters
of man, intelligence. As the absolute im
mobility of situation seems to cover, with
impenetrable shades, the other act of ids
existence, we may fancy that we sec nothing
in him when ho speaks, but a living ruin of
the brain.”
ORIGINAL ANECDO TE OF ITT* JOHNSON.
FROM A WORK JUST 1TB 1*1811 CO,
To change the conversation, which had
become too serious, I asked Pontius, “ if he
had ever met Dr. Johnson in Scotland ?”—
“ Aye, gtidc truth, have I !” replied he;
“ and sin ye are upon the subject of the fe
male sex, the Doctor was an instance that
men may admire them, and yet lead a life of
comparative celibacy, lie is frequently
tylcd the literary bear, an, P gude troth
lie was not sac affable and conciliating as
he might have been'. but even be lost a*
bis severity i’ tho company o’ women. I
have heard him say, “ the mon, Sir, that ran
withstood the effects of beauty, who is nap
some measures softened by the tender so
licitations of a sweet amiable female, de
serves to be transported tull a desert island,
to lirrd among the brutes, bis brothers.”
Ane liije summer's evening, as we were en
joying the cool breezes and aromatic exha
lations frae a beautiful garden, a fine play
ful* girl frae the banks o, the Tweed, in the
zenith of full youth, health and spirits, and
who had, by her lively wit, produced a
smile from the artlnvise rugged muscles o’
the Doctor, came bounding o’er the tuvf
where we set, and exclaimed “ my dear
Doctor, I am often surprised at your sob'er,
saturnine, mode of walking. Here you go”
—and she gave a correct representation o*
his gait, which, by the bye, was ane o’ the
clumsiest points about him—“ why don” you
run like me, and sport tho toe elastic ?”
The laugh during this imitation was terri
bly against the Doctor, and had it been cx-
ciled by any other means, hae greatly irri
tated him. Instead o’ which, wi* the ut
most good humor, lie replied, “ why dearie,
my elastic days are over ; hut I’ll tell you
what dearie, I’ll run a race for a pot of cof
fee.” The wager was taen ; the Doctor
laid ’ "jjlcoat, hat ane wig, upon the grass ;
and away they went. But of a’ the comic
exhibition that was ever seen, sure this
was the most so. His round bald pate re
sembled a ripe pumpion, and his awkward
exertions, much impeded by the size of his
clothes, which*ho was obliged to support
we’ ane hand, were sac provokingly laugh
able to his fair opponent, that she screamed
glee,—cou’dna rin. Accordingly the
palm o’ victory was gecd to the Doctor,
who exultingly cried out, after he had re
covered his wind. “ You see, dearie a mon
may hae a heavy heed, an’ a light pair o*
heels ; but ye rin under great disadvanta
ges, dearie.” Indeed, said she, surprised*
“ why how should I rin Doctor ?” “ 1’ the
custom of your country, dearie,’ without
shoes or stockings.” The laugh thus turn
ed i* the Doctor’s favor, and he was excel
lent company for the remainder o’ tho cvca
nine.”