amid the myths and fables of Grecian and Roman history, and have faith that the ruins of Nineveh, Memphis and Palmyra shall yet declare the civilities, learning and religion of ancient days.
Few nations have had a perfect history. Valuable history can be derived only from the continued record of the transactions of a people. Wherever governments have existed in fact before they have existed in form, or wherever the proceedings of a government have not been matters of record, there can be no trustworthy history. In these respects Massachusetts has been fortunate. Her government is older than her existence as colonies, and from the first a faithful record of her proceedings has been made. The foundations of New Plymouth and Massachusetts were laid more than two centuries ago; the circumstances of this occasion lead us to consider the least defensible portions of their history; yet the world cannot charge them with suppressing any fact necessary to a true appreciation of their policy and character. Whatever they did was in the fear of God and without the fear of man. Conscious of their own integrity of purpose, they shrunk not from the judgment of posterity. And though in this hour we may not always approve their policy, so neither can we comprehend their principles or appreciate their trials. The human family has ever been subject to one great law. It is this: Inferior races disappear in the presence of their superiors, or become dependent upon them. Now, while this law shall not stand as a defence for our fathers, it is satisfactory to feel that no policy could have civilized or even saved the Indian tribes of Massachusetts. The remnants that linger in our midst are not the representatives of the native nobility of the forest two centuries ago. Nor did Williams or Eliot, by kindness or religion, ever command the fierce spirits of Miantonomo, Canonchet and Philip. Nevertheless, let history exalt these men. Let it speak truly of their genius,