Source: Diman, J. Lewis. The Nation and the Constitution: An Oration Delivered Before the City Authorities and Citizens of Providence, July 4, 1866. Providence: Providence Press Company, 1866. Digitized by Google from the library of Harvard University. Internet Archive.

Mr. Upton’s Speech

I came here somewhat in the mood which Sterne described himself to be in when the Franciscan asked him for alms and he buttoned up his purse, predetermined not to give him a single sou; so I had predetermined not to speak, but I feel that it would be ungracious, and my silence might be misconstrued, especially when called upon to respond to the health of President Johnson.

For long years I belonged to a party opposed to Andrew Johnson—a party which latterly became a cipher at the South; but when the wretched rebellion was precipitated, and men who loved their country forgot party, I found myself at his side, and have been there ever since. In the recent unhappy differences between the President and the Congress I have been more nearly in accord with him than with the Congress. But I will not dwell upon this subject, only to ask of you, fellow-citizens, who will soon return to our common country and mingle in those discussions which divide her citizens, to remember the great services of Mr. Johnson in the past and to judge him kindly; remember how much the nation owes him—how, from the beginning, his name was a bulwark against which the waves of secession dashed surlily and angrily; that he not only preserved his own State, but that throughout the South he was the shield and the shelter of the Union.

Allow me to pass from these topics, and, as your Consul, to welcome you to Geneva—a city, as was happily and gracefully said by the Chairman in his opening remarks, where an anniversary of liberty may be most fitly celebrated. The history of this city is full of interest for patriots. Suffer me to call your attention to some parts of it and to some things you will not find in the guide-books.

The earliest government of Geneva was by a Catholic bishop, chosen by the people and afterwards consecrated at Rome. It happened in the course of time that the Pope visited Geneva when the bishopric was vacant and he appointed a bishop. The people not only acquiesced but felicitated themselves that so great a magnate as the Pope should interest himself in their affairs; but the precedent was fatal, for the bishops were thenceforth appointed from among the House of Savoy, whose Duke had long coveted the sovereignty of Geneva, which was then in the midst of their territorial possessions. The people struggled nobly against this usurpation.

There is an old tower at the end of one of the bridges here which cross the Rhone—a tower of the Middle Ages (which you may know by three clocks near the top of it, giving the time at Berne, Geneva, and Paris)—in which there is a mural tablet with an inscription to the memory of Philibert Berthelier. Berthelier was the first martyr of liberty here. The second was Levrier, who was a judge in the bishop’s court and who denied an appeal from his court to the Duke.

Both these heroes were beheaded, but not at the ordinary place of execution, for the Duke feared a rescue by the people. Levrier wrote upon the wall of his prison, after he knew his sentence, these Latin lines:

Quid mihi mors nocuit? Virtus post fata virescit!
Nec cruce, nec sævi gladio perit illa tyranni.
(What harmed me death? Virtue then grows without decay!
Nor cross, nor tyrant's sword can take her life away.)

The people never doubted their right to freedom after it was sealed by the blood of these men, and after long years of heroic sufferings, they obtained it—but not until with it they took in the Reformed religion, and thus rid themselves of bishop as well as duke. Not long after, as you know, Calvin came here, and his history is identified with that of Geneva. I confess to have had great prejudices against this great man until I investigated the history of his time and labors. Most of the Genevese are still prejudiced against him, but I hope the time will come when they will do him justice—for at present, there is no monument or statue here to preserve his memory. But Molière, to whom, living, the French Academy had refused an election, was honored a century after his death by their bringing his bust in their midst with this inscription: “Nothing was wanting to his glory—he was wanting to ours.” The time will come, I think, when the Genevese will do the like—justice to themselves and to John Calvin. (Applause.)

The second regular toast was then announced:

**“The United States of America and the Confederation of Switzerland, the twin Republics of the Old and the New World, in whose organisation is so happily blended the Unity of the Nation with the Liberty of the Citizen.”

Music: Hail Columbia and Ranz des Vaches.

This was responded to by Parke Godwin, Esq., editor of the New-York Evening Post.