I listen to hear the voice of a Governor, Commander-in-Chief of
the forces of Massachusetts. I hear only the creaking of crickets
and the hum of insects which now fill the summer air. The Governor's
exploit is to review the troops on muster days. I have seen him on
horseback, with his hat off, listening to a chaplain's prayer. It
chances that that is all I have ever seen of a Governor. I think
that I could manage to get along without one. If he is not of the
least use to prevent my being kidnapped, pray of what important use is
he likely to be to me? When freedom is most endangered, he dwells in
the deepest obscurity. A distinguished clergyman told me that he chose
the profession of a clergyman because it afforded the most leisure for
literary pursuits. I would recommend to him the profession of a
Governor.
Three years ago, also, when the Sims tragedy was acted, I said to
myself, There is such an officer, if not such a man, as the Governor
of Massachusetts- what has he been about the last fortnight? Has he
had as much as he could do to keep on the fence during this moral
earthquake? It seemed to me that no keener satire could have been
aimed at, no more cutting insult have been offered to that man, than
just what happened- the absence of all inquiry after him in that
crisis. The worst and the most I chance to know of him is that he
did not improve that opportunity to make himself known, and worthily
known.
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