Patriotism, my friend, is an admirable and most
praiseworthy virtue. It is correctly classed among the noblest instincts
of human nature. It has in all ages been a fruitful theme of poetic
fervor; it has sustained the orator in his loftiest flights of
eloquence; it has nerved the arm of the warrior to perform deeds of
signal valor; it has transformed the timid matron and the shrinking
maiden into heroines whom history has delighted to honor. But when
patriotism is really synonymous with self-preservation, when small
sacrifices are demanded and overwhelming disasters are to be averted,
the love of country, although still highly commendable, does not,
perhaps, deserve very enthusiastic praise, while the want of it will be
sure to excite universal condemnation and scorn. I cannot believe that
you will consent to fasten upon yourself, and upon all who are dear to
you, the lasting stigma which will inevitably attach to the man who,
whether from a mean partisan jealousy or an ignoble indifference to the
honor of his country, has failed in an hour of sorest need to defend the
land which gave him birth, and the institutions which his fathers
suffered and sacrificed so much to establish.
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