The following is just to beautiful to not share. I believe that our America today still has many of these virtues, these ideals, this character. We just need to rise up and use it.
(The following is a excerpt from "A Patriot's History of the United States" which is actually available online at http://uscrow.org/downloads/A%20Patriots%20History%20of%20the%20US%20-%20Ytsewolf.pdf which is where I obtained a copy of this longish quote so I didn't have to type it :)...)
Throughout much of the twentieth century, there was a subtle and, at times, obvious campaign to
separate virtue from talent, to divide character from success. The latest in this line of attack is the
emphasis on diversity—that somehow merely having different skin shades or national origins
makes America special. But it was not the color of the skin of people who came here that made
them special, it was the content of their character. America remains a beacon of liberty, not merely
because its institutions have generally remained strong, its citizens free, and its attitudes tolerant,
but because it, among most of the developed world, still cries out as a nation, “Character counts.”
Personal liberties in America are genuine because of the character of honest judges and attorneys
who, for the most part, still make up the judiciary, and because of the personal integrity of large
numbers of local, state, and national lawmakers.
No society is free from corruption. The difference is that in America, corruption is viewed as the
exception, not the rule. And when light is shown on it, corruption is viciously attacked. Freedom
still attracts people to the fountain of hope that is America, but freedom alone is not enough.
Without responsibility and virtue, freedom becomes a soggy anarchy, an incomplete licentiousness.
This is what has made Americans different: their fusion of freedom and integrity endows
Americans with their sense of right, often when no other nation in the world shares their perception.
Yet that is as telling about other nations as it is our own; perhaps it is that as Americans, we alone
remain committed to both the individual and the greater good, to personal freedoms and to public
virtue, to human achievement and respect for the Almighty. Slavery was abolished because of the
dual commitment to liberty and virtue—neither capable of standing without the other. Some
crusades in the name of integrity have proven disastrous, including Prohibition. The most recent
serious threats to both liberty and public virtue (abuse of the latter damages both) have come in the
form of the modern environmental and consumer safety movements. Attempts to sue gun makers,
paint manufacturers, tobacco companies, and even Microsoft “for the public good” have made
distressingly steady advances, encroaching on Americans’ freedoms to eat fast foods, smoke, or
modify their automobiles, not to mention start businesses or invest in existing firms without fear of
retribution.
The Founders—each and every one of them—would have been horrified at such intrusions on
liberty, regardless of the virtue of the cause, not because they were elite white men, but because
such actions in the name of the public good were simply wrong. It all goes back to character: the
best way to ensure virtuous institutions (whether government, business, schools, or churches) was
to populate them with people of virtue. Europe forgot this in the nineteenth century, or by World
War I at the latest. Despite rigorous and punitive face-saving traditions in the Middle East or Asia,
these twin principles of liberty and virtue have never been adopted. Only in America, where one
was permitted to do almost anything, but expected to do the best thing, did these principles
germinate.
To a great extent, that is why, on March 4, 1801, John Adams would have thought of nothing other
than to turn the White House over to his hated foe, without fanfare, self-pity, or complaint, and
return to his everyday life away from politics. That is why, on the few occasions where very thin
electoral margins produced no clear winner in the presidential race (such as 1824, 1876, 1888,
1960, and 2000), the losers (after some legal maneuvering, recounting of votes, and occasional
whining) nevertheless stepped aside and congratulated the winner of a different party. Adams may
have set a precedent, but in truth he would do nothing else. After all, he was a man of character.
(The following is a excerpt from "A Patriot's History of the United States" which is actually available online at http://uscrow.org/downloads/A%20Patriots%20History%20of%20the%20US%20-%20Ytsewolf.pdf which is where I obtained a copy of this longish quote so I didn't have to type it :)...)
Throughout much of the twentieth century, there was a subtle and, at times, obvious campaign to
separate virtue from talent, to divide character from success. The latest in this line of attack is the
emphasis on diversity—that somehow merely having different skin shades or national origins
makes America special. But it was not the color of the skin of people who came here that made
them special, it was the content of their character. America remains a beacon of liberty, not merely
because its institutions have generally remained strong, its citizens free, and its attitudes tolerant,
but because it, among most of the developed world, still cries out as a nation, “Character counts.”
Personal liberties in America are genuine because of the character of honest judges and attorneys
who, for the most part, still make up the judiciary, and because of the personal integrity of large
numbers of local, state, and national lawmakers.
No society is free from corruption. The difference is that in America, corruption is viewed as the
exception, not the rule. And when light is shown on it, corruption is viciously attacked. Freedom
still attracts people to the fountain of hope that is America, but freedom alone is not enough.
Without responsibility and virtue, freedom becomes a soggy anarchy, an incomplete licentiousness.
This is what has made Americans different: their fusion of freedom and integrity endows
Americans with their sense of right, often when no other nation in the world shares their perception.
Yet that is as telling about other nations as it is our own; perhaps it is that as Americans, we alone
remain committed to both the individual and the greater good, to personal freedoms and to public
virtue, to human achievement and respect for the Almighty. Slavery was abolished because of the
dual commitment to liberty and virtue—neither capable of standing without the other. Some
crusades in the name of integrity have proven disastrous, including Prohibition. The most recent
serious threats to both liberty and public virtue (abuse of the latter damages both) have come in the
form of the modern environmental and consumer safety movements. Attempts to sue gun makers,
paint manufacturers, tobacco companies, and even Microsoft “for the public good” have made
distressingly steady advances, encroaching on Americans’ freedoms to eat fast foods, smoke, or
modify their automobiles, not to mention start businesses or invest in existing firms without fear of
retribution.
The Founders—each and every one of them—would have been horrified at such intrusions on
liberty, regardless of the virtue of the cause, not because they were elite white men, but because
such actions in the name of the public good were simply wrong. It all goes back to character: the
best way to ensure virtuous institutions (whether government, business, schools, or churches) was
to populate them with people of virtue. Europe forgot this in the nineteenth century, or by World
War I at the latest. Despite rigorous and punitive face-saving traditions in the Middle East or Asia,
these twin principles of liberty and virtue have never been adopted. Only in America, where one
was permitted to do almost anything, but expected to do the best thing, did these principles
germinate.
To a great extent, that is why, on March 4, 1801, John Adams would have thought of nothing other
than to turn the White House over to his hated foe, without fanfare, self-pity, or complaint, and
return to his everyday life away from politics. That is why, on the few occasions where very thin
electoral margins produced no clear winner in the presidential race (such as 1824, 1876, 1888,
1960, and 2000), the losers (after some legal maneuvering, recounting of votes, and occasional
whining) nevertheless stepped aside and congratulated the winner of a different party. Adams may
have set a precedent, but in truth he would do nothing else. After all, he was a man of character.
