ould have obeyed the impulse. Even with that impediment in our way, it
was with extreme difficulty that the illustrious man then at the head
of our affairs, the Father of his country, could restrain us from
plunging into the conflict. No other man, and no other thousand men in
the United States could have done it. And even when done by him, the
idol of our love and the pride of our nation, and of mankind, we
complained, in no very measured terms, of a restraint which probably
saved us from ruin. In truth, our hearts were too deeply engaged to
give fair play to our heads. Many of us were very young, and all
of us under a paroxysm of excitement which scarcely left us morally
responsible for our conduct. So all-absorbing was the passion, that
our own affairs had no longer any flavor for us. We gave to France all
that we were permitted to give, our hearts, our prayers, and all the
sympathies of our nature. Our eyes, our ears were turned, incessantly,
towards her coast, to catch the earliest tidings of her progress, and
every new sail from abroad that hove in sight, set our bosoms into the
wildest commotion. We identified ourselves with her as far as possible.
We assumed her badges, adopted her language of salutation and
intercourse, and all her votive cries of joy and triumph. The names
of her patriots, orators, and generals, "familiar in our mouths
as household words, were, in our flowing cups, _most devoutly_
remembered!" We recited with rapture those noble bursts of indignant or
pathetic eloquence which were continually breaking from her tribune.
Every shout of victory from her shores was echoed back from ours. Every
house and every cottage, our mountains and valleys, rung with her
national airs, and often did we see groups of the old and the young,
the rich and the poor, fathers and sons, virgins and matrons, swelling
the heroic chorus of the Marseilles hymn, with the tears and the fire
of enthusiasm in their eyes. Those days are gone; but there is still
a mournful pleasure in their remembrance. They recall to us many of
those who were wont to join with us in those celebrations, but who can
join with us no more. They recall those visions of glory which then
surrounded France, but which were, afterwards, so mournfully overcast.
They attest the universality, the sincerity, the depth of the interest
which we have ever taken in the cause of her liberty. Long, very long,
was it before that enthusiasm subsided. Never did it sub