The truth is non-partisan

The Massachusetts legislature was meeting in Concord in April 1775 far
away from Boston where Britain's General Gage and his troops were
housed. Colonial leaders feared the British would attempt to capture
members of the legislature and also the armory in Concord. Paul
Revere in concert with other revolutionaries developed a system of
transmitting messages should the British decide to go after their
leaders and the guns. They agreed to hang lanterns in Christ's Church
steeple to signal riders on the opposite shore who would make their
way to Concord to warn the revolutionary leaders. The signal was to
be one lantern if by land and two if by sea.

On Tuesday evening, April 18 Gage's troops gathered on the Boston
Common. They were soon being ferried across the Charles River to
Charlestown where they would set out for Concord. Paul Revere crossed
the river and was on his way to warn the revolutionaries. In
Lexington Captain Parker called his Minute Men out to meet on the town
green. Rather than face the British regulars, they voted to disband so
went back to their homes. At 5 a.m., however, the Minute Men were
called out again. All 38 stretched out across the green, determined
not to fight, but to stand fast. As the British approached, they
called out to the Colonials to disperse. Parker called on his men to
disperse, a shot from an unknown location caused the British to panic
and start firing. Before the smoke cleared eight Minute Men were
dead.

In the meantime colonial militia were traveling toward Concord. In
Concord the British found the armory was empty and that the
revolutionary leaders had fled. They started the armory on fire with
the few armaments that were there. The militia, when they saw the
smoke, thought the British were burning their homes. They advanced on
the British soldiers holding the bridges. The British opened fire so
the Minute Men returned fire and soon the British were fleeing into
town. As the British left the town, the militia watched. As the
British marched along the road, the militia found refuge in the trees
and behind buildings where they were easily able to fire upon the
fleeing British. Once they had fired, they rushed a head behind walls
or an embankment, loading as they ran. Then when loaded they would
pop up again and fire upon the advancing British columns. The
crossfire kept the British pinned to the road.

Above Lexington a relief column of British waited with canon for their
retreating comrades. By the time they reached Boston, 20 percent of
the British soldiers who had taken part in the operation had been
killed, wounded or taken prisoner. Seventy-three British soldiers
were dead compared to 49 Americans. The first shots of a revolution
had been fired. For many there was no going back now.

// posted by John Fisher @ 7:45 PM 0 Comments Links to this post

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

Listen to an account and reading on NPR at
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1231017#email

// posted by John Fisher @ 6:44 PM 0 Comments Links to this post

Dear Andrew Sullivan,

I listened to your speech tonight at Northwest Missouri State University. Perhaps you were successful in reaching me with your message. I left doubting and uncertain about your message.

You say the basis of true conservatism is doubt. True conservatives recognize that nothing is certain. The key point of Adam Smith is doubt. No single person is smart enough to predict the needs and want of society. By the time you finally know what society wants, it has already changed. No government or bureaucrat can predict what people want. The socialist works on the basis that he knows best; however, he is always wrong. When socialists try to control the economy they fail. On the other hand, when individual decisions filter through the market place it’s the wise one. People know better how to run their own lives. The nature of human beings is that we are fallible. No one knows everything. If we despise decisions, we are less likely to make mistakes.

Here are some other things you said. In America no one can be that certain, you say. The main achievement of a society built on deadlock and in action is to do nothing at all. In a government that is at war with itself it is better to do nothing than something wrong. The US constitution established a government based on doubt, that can’t do anything at all except protect life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The 50 states and three branches of government are constantly reviewing each others decisions. Doubt is central to the maintenance of freedom.

War empowers governments. Reluctance to go to war is the mark of a conservative government. If we can’t understand our own country, how can we understand a foreign land? As soon as we understand it, it changes. The world is dynamic. The wise course is not to control the world. Deter threats to protect ourselves, but never remake the world.

Edmund Burke in his essay “Reflections on the revolution in France” Even before the reign of terror when Burke heard people knew for sure what France needed, he knew the Revolution was doomed. No one truly knows; they think they know. They maybe well intentioned, but history is full of examples of how people do the worst things for the best reasons.

Faith in a doctrine tells everything one needs to know about the world. Religions impulse is to certainty and truth. Religious people know for sure from God what they are doing is right. In the Inquisition when they were burning heretics, they thought the flames were finally converting them into believing the truth. They were not killing them but rather saving them. When religion leads to imposing faith it’s not for their own good; it’s not really faith. You can see the intolerance. If it’s in the Bible, then it can’t be compromised. The correct approach is not certainty; it’s humility.

You say the founders took God out of politics. The Constitution was not dedicated to God; it was dedicated to freedom. They saw what certainty did to societies. The constitution doesn’t allow political power in one person. The president presides, not decides.

In Iran and in some parts of Afghanistan, you can see what religion does to society. Religious ideology can lead to a logic that sanctions murder.

I’m left doubting what you said because I believe there are some certainties. The US Constitution is based on certainties. The Constitution was based on correct principles. Joseph Smith said, “I teach them correct principles and let them govern themselves.” If we follow those correct principles outlined in the Constitution, we will be able to make good decisions. Correct principles take the doubt out of decision making.

For example, because I understood what Washington said in his farewell address, I knew that going into Iraq was wrong. The US never would have gone into Iraq if Congress was following the Constitution. The Congress would not have let the President make the decision to go to war for them.

As I look through what you said, and put aside the many abstractions, I can see that you have set forth a number of principles. One is that decisions are best made at the local level. Individual decisions filtered through the marketplace lead to good decisions. Questioning helps assure good decisions are made. You are not as uncertain about things as you would have us believe.

// posted by John Fisher @ 11:48 PM 0 Comments Links to this post