Believe, gentlemen, if it were not for those children, he would not come here to-day to seek such remuneration; if it were not that, by your verdict, you may prevent those little innocent defrauded wretches from becoming wandering beggars, as well as orphans on the face of this earth.  Oh, I know I need not ask this verdict from your mercy; I need not extort it from your compassion; I will receive it from your justice.  I do conjure you, not as fathers, but as husbands:—­not as husbands, but as citizens:—­not as citizens, but as men:—­not as men, but as Christians:—­by all your obligations, public, private, moral, and religious; by the hearth profaned; by the home desolated; by the canons of the living God foully spurned;—­save, oh:  save your firesides from the contagion, your country from the crime, and perhaps thousands, yet unborn, from the shame, and sin, and sorrow of this example!

    —­CHARLES PHILLIPS, Appeal to the jury in behalf of Guthrie.

So I appeal from the men in silken hose who danced to music made by slaves and called it freedom, from the men in bell-crown hats who led Hester Prynne to her shame and called it religion, to that Americanism which reaches forth its arms to smite wrong with reason and truth, secure in the power of both.  I appeal from the patriarchs of New England to the poets of New England; from Endicott to Lowell; from Winthrop to Longfellow; from Norton to Holmes; and I appeal in the name and by the rights of that common citizenship—­of that common origin, back of both the Puritan and the Cavalier, to which all of us owe our being.  Let the dead past, consecrated by the blood of its martyrs, not by its savage hatreds, darkened alike by kingcraft and priestcraft—­let the dead past bury its dead.  Let the present and the future ring with the song of the singers.  Blessed be the lessons they teach, the laws they make.  Blessed be the eye to see, the light to reveal.  Blessed be tolerance, sitting ever on the right hand of God to guide the way with loving word, as blessed be all that brings us nearer the goal of true religion, true republicanism, and true patriotism, distrust of watchwords and labels, shams and heroes, belief in our country and ourselves.  It was not Cotton Mather, but John Greenleaf Whittier, who cried: 

    Dear God and Father of us all,
    Forgive our faith in cruel lies,
    Forgive the blindness that denies.

    Cast down our idols—­overturn
    Our Bloody altars—­make us see
    Thyself in Thy humanity!

    —­HENRY WATTERSON, Puritan and Cavalier.