its bravest and best, and truly are our laurels mingled with the
cypress, 'tis well, and 'tis wise, 'tis natural and 'tis proper, that
in looking on the laurels of our glory we should pause to pay a
tribute to the cypress which weeps over them, and having paid this
tribute to the gallant dead, the memory of whose service can never
die, we pass to the consideration of their acts, and the beneficial
results which their sacrifices have secured. When that war begun, our
history recorded evidence only of the power of our people for defence.
The Fabian policy of Washington, admirably adapted to the condition of
the Colonies, achieved so much in proportion to the means, that he
would be rash indeed who should attempt to criticise it.
The prudent, though daring course of Jackson, fruitful as it was of
the end to be attained, did not yet serve to illustrate the capacity
of our people for the trials and the struggles attendant on the
operations of an invasive war. Hence it was commonly asserted that the
American people, though they might resist attack, were powerless to
redress aggression which was not connected with the invasion of their
territory. The idea of reliance upon undisciplined militia was treated
with contempt and derision. To borrow a simile from the pit, we were
regarded as dung-hill soldiers, who would only fight at home. In the
war with Mexico our armies carried their banners over routes hitherto
unknown, through mountain passes where nature had almost completed the
work of defence, and penetrated further into the enemy's country than
any European army has ever marched from the source of its supplies.
Not to prolong the comparison by a reference to events of a remote
period, he would only refer to the last campaign in European war. The
combined armies of France and England, after preparation worthy of
their great military power, advanced through friendly territory to the
outer verge of the country, against which they directed a war of
invasion, and after a prolonged siege by sea and by land, finally