The Revolution was accomplished.  The feeble Government of the Confederation passed away.  The Constitution, slowly matured in a National Convention, discussed before the people, defended by masterly pens, was adopted.  The Thirteen States stood forth a Nation, where was unity without consolidation, and diversity without discord.  The hopes of all were anxiously hanging upon the new order of things and the mighty procession of events.  With signal unanimity Washington was chosen President.  Leaving his home at Mount Vernon, he repaired to New York,—­where the first Congress had commenced its session,—­to assume his place as Chief of the Republic.  On the 30th of April, 1789, the organization of the Government was completed by his inauguration.  Entering the Senate Chamber, where the two Houses were assembled, he was informed that they awaited his readiness to receive the oath of office.  Without delay, attended by the Senators and Representatives, with friends and men of mark gathered about him, he moved to the balcony in front of the edifice.  A countless multitude, thronging the open ways, and eagerly watching this great espousal,

     “With reverence look on his majestic face,
     Proud to be less, but of his godlike race.”

The oath was administered by the Chancellor of New York.  At such time, and in such presence, beneath the unveiled heavens, Washington first took this vow upon his lips:  “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

Over the President, on this new occasion, floated the national flag, with its stripes of red and white, its stars on a field of blue.  As his patriot eye rested upon the glowing ensign, what currents must have rushed swiftly through his soul.  In the early days of the Revolution, in those darkest hours about Boston, after the Battle of Bunker Hill, and before the Declaration of Independence, the thirteen stripes had been first unfurled by him, as the emblem of Union among the Colonies for the sake of Freedom.  By him, at that time, they had been named the Union Flag.  Trial, struggle, and war were now ended, and the Union, which they first heralded, was unalterably established.  To every beholder these memories, must have been full of pride and consolation.  But, looking back upon the scene, there is one circumstance which, more than all its other associations, fills the soul,—­more even than the suggestions of Union, which I prize so much.  AT THIS MOMENT, WHEN WASHINGTON TOOK HIS FIRST OATH TO SUPPORT THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES, THE NATIONAL ENSIGN, NOWHERE WITHIN THE NATIONAL TERRITORY, COVERED A SINGLE SLAVE.  Then, indeed, was Slavery Sectional, and Freedom National.

On the sea an execrable piracy, the trade in slaves, to the national scandal, was still tolerated under the national flag.  In the States, as a sectional institution, beneath the shelter of local laws, Slavery unhappily found a home.  But in the only terrritories at this time belonging to the nation, the broad region of the Northwest, it was already made impossible, by the Ordinance of Freedom, even before the adoption of the Constitution.  The District of Columbia, with its Fatal Dowry, was not yet acquired.