THE AMERICAN ORATOR. WITH CONTAINING THE DECLARATION" OF INDEPENDENCE, WITH THE F AC-SIMILES OF THE AUTOGRAPHS OF THE SIGNERS ; THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES ; WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS ; AND FAC- SIMILES OF THE AUTOGRAPHS OF A LARGE NUM- BER OF DISTINGUISHED INDIVIDUALS. BY LEWIS C. MUNN. jFourtp Button. WORCESTER: PUBLISHED BY THE COMPILER, No. 233 MAIN STREET. 18 55. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, bv LEWIS C. MTJNN, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. Stereotyped by HOB ART & ROBBIjVH, BOSIO.V. TBTffTEP BY STAC V AKD RICHARDSON, 1*0.1] Milk 6trOCt PREFACE. It has long been the belief of the compiler of " The American Orator" that a work of its character could not fail to be of interest to the public. We are emphatic- ally a nation of talkers. The ambition of nearly all our men of intellectual eminence seems to be to succeed in the field of oratorical display. From those fortunate individ- uals who have secured for themselves a seat in our national and state legislatures, down to the more humble, but not less ambitious, personage who edifies the public on Fourth of July occasions, or from the village lyceum rostrum, all exhibit the most unconquerable desire to obtain the reputa- tion which Brutus possessed and Antony disclaimed. It would be singular, indeed, if out of this mass of mat- ter continually given to the public, much that is merit- orious should not be produced. With this conviction, it has been the aim of the compiler to endeavor to present, in a necessarily limited compass, what he deemed the fairest specimens of the abilities of those who had attained the highest rank in their vocation. In this somewhat arduous labor, he has in some instances been kindly assisted by the IV PREFACE. authors themselves, and he would avail himself of this occa- casion to return to them his grateful acknowledgments. In selecting the " Specimens," the design has been to represent both the pulpit and the forum. If the extracts from efforts made in the latter field shall seem to prepon- derate, the compiler offers as his excuse the fact that it is here the American mind seems most naturally to seek its development, and consequently here we find its most char- acteristic representation. In the Appendix to the work, it is believed, there is presented an entirely original feature. Allusion is made to the large collection of fac similes of the autographs of distinguished men of this and other countries ; and, in this connection, the compiler cannot omit to acknowledge his great obligations to that " prince" of autograph collectors, Charles H. Morse, Esq., of Cambridgeport, Mass., who has, with the kindest liberality, placed his invaluable col- lection entirely at his service, in preparing the work. Boston, January, 1853. TABLE OF CONTENTS. The Declaration of Independence, Adams, J. Q. Madison and the Constitution, Adams, J. Q. Early Deeds of our Fathers, Adams, J. Q. Public Faith, Ames, F. . . The British Treaty, Ames, F. . . Against Surrendering the Frontier Posts, Ames, F. . . Early Days of the Revolution, Austin, J. T. Early Achievements of Americans, Austin, J. L. Character of General Jackson, Bancroft, G. The Light of Knowledge, Barnard, D. I) Christianity the Basis of Liberty, Beecher, L. . England's Dislike of America, Bell, J. . . . The West and the South, Benton, T. H. Progress of the Caucasian Race, Benton, T. H. An Appeal for Union, Berrien, J. M. Future Empire of our Language, Bethune, G. W. . The Problem for the United States, Boardman, H. A. Dedication of the Davis Monument, at Acton, Mass., . Boutwell, G. S. War with France, Buchanan, J. Agriculture and Commerce, Buckminster, J. S. Free Discussion, Burgess, T. . . Relief of the Survivors of the Revolution, Burgess, T. . . Kossuth in Massachusetts, Burlingame, A. . The Backwoodsmen, Burlingame, A. . The Future Age of Literature, Bushndl, H. . . Music, Bushnell, H. . . Eirth of Nations, Bushnell, H. . . The South and the Union, Butler, A. P. . . War with France, Calhoun, J. C. The Force Bill, ■ Calhoun, J. C. . V.":u- Preferable to Submission, Calhoun, J. C. Great Britain not Invincible, Cal/wun, J. C. The Suspension of Diplomatic Relations with Austria, . Cass, L. . . The Preservation of the Union, Cass, L. . . Completion of the Wabash and Erie Canal, Cass, L. . . The Old World and the New, Cass, L. . . The Judiciaiy, Channing, W. Burning of the Lexington, Chapin, E. H. Knowledge is Power, Chapin, E. H. The Heroism cf the Pilgrims, Choate, R. . The First Battle-ground of the Revolution, Choate, R. . Ambiguity of Speech, Choate, R. . Character of Daniel Webster, Choate, R. . Future of America, Clay, C. M. Aspirations for America, Clay, C. M. . Example of America, Clay, C. M. . The Consequences of Disunion, Clay, H. . . The Union, Clay, H. . . E. PAGE 48 119 316 G3 203 300 259 320 234 98 199 3 GO 269 281 87 308 280 276 133 158 . 36 . 225 345 307 220 251 336 72 15G 192 222 305 57 162 264 302 376 40 208 75 172 212 363 176 246 257 16 35 1* 6 TABLE OF CONTENTS. Public Virtue, Clay, H 167 In I5eh^lf of Greece, Chi/, IT. .... 242 Fur Prosecuting the War, Cloy, H 283 Against Alliance with England, Clemens, J. . . . 351 Dangers of the Spirit of Conquest, Corwin; T. . . . 297 Eulogy upon Henry Clay, Crittenden, J. J. . 259 Sectional Services in the Last War, disking, C. . . 86 The South, -Davis, Jef. ... 94 The Battle of Bunker Hill, Dearborn, H. A. S. 221 Attention the Soul of Genius, Dewey, O. . . . 70 The Nobility of Labor, Dewey, O. . . . 126 The Dignity of Human Nature, Dewey, 0. . . . 171 The Union, Dickinson, D. S. . 59 Agriculture, Dickinson, D. S. . 84 The Influence of Christianity, Dice, J. A. ... 61 Obedience to the Constitution, Douglass, S. A. . 74 From an Eulogy on Lafayette, Everett, E. . . . 16 The American Union, Everett, E. . . . 66 The Experiment of Self-government, Everett, E. . . . 145 The Survivors of the Revolution, Everett, E. . . . 157 The Land of our Fathers, Everett, E. ... 169 Adams and Jeiferson, Everett, E. ... 224 Sulferings and Destiny of the Pilgrims, Everett, E. . . . 239 The Lexington Martyrs, Everett, E. ... 271 From an Address at Bloody Brook, Everett, E. . . . 293 Deaths of Adams and Jefferson, Everett, E. . . . 347 The Last Hours of Daniel Webster, Everett, E. ... 353 Washington's Farewell Address, Everett, E. ... 372 The Patriot's Hope, Ewing, T. . . . 346 Restless Spirit of Humanity, Fish, W. .... 230 Party Spirit, Gaston, W. . . . 104 Wars of Kindred Races, Gaston, W. . . . 214 Patriotism, Giles, H. .... 324 Genius, Giles, H. . . . . 349 Self-sacrificing Ambition, Greely, H. . . . 103 The True Reformers, Greely, H. . . . 112 Human Life, Greely, H. ... 129 The Experiment of Self-government, Hale, J. P. . . . 3(!9 Religion and Poetry, Hamersley, W. J. 240 The South during the Revolution, Hayne, R. Y. . . 312 The Development of our Country, Henry, C. S. . . 93 Resistance to England, Henry, P. ... 197 Duties of Americans, Hillard, G. S. . 81 The Fourth of July, Hillard, G. S. . 307 The Destiny of the United States, Hilliard, H.W. . 137 Death of J. Q. Adams, Holmes, I. E. . . 30 Address to Kossuth, Hopkins, E. . . . 309 The Militia of the Revolution, Hubbard, H. . . 149 Remembrance of the Good, Humphrey, H. . . 179 Sorrow for the Dead, Irving, W. ... 24 Union Linked with Liberty, Jackson, A. . . . 88 An Appeal to South Carolina, Jackson, A. . . . 99 Farewell Address to his Troops, Jackson, A. . . . 250 Sulferings of Greece, Jarvis, R 304 A Republic the Strongest Government Jefferson, T. . . . K 3 Charity should Commence at Home, Junes, J. C. . . . 356 Address to the Citizens of Lexington, Kellogg, E. H. . 378 The Mechanical Epoch, Kennedy, J. P. . 254 For Independence, Lee, R. H. . ■ . 290 Republics, Legare, H. S. . . 26 TABLE OF CONTENTS. i PAGE The ConstJ ution not an Experiment, Legare, H. S. . . 177 America, ■ Legare, H. S. . . 318 Growth of America, Legare, H. S. . . 326 The Alien Bill, Livingston, E. . . 216 The Ship of State, Lunt, W. P. . . 380 Ignorance a Crime in a Republic, Mann, H. ... 73 Education of the Young, Mann, H. . . . 191 Louis Kossuth, Mann, H. ... 313 An Appeal for Union, McDowell, J. . . 377 Popular Excitement in Elections, McDuffie, G. . . 134 The Permanence of American Liberty, McDuJfie, G. . . 144 South Carolina under Federal Legislation, ...... McDuffie, G. . . 274 Unlawful Military Combinations, McLean, J. . . . 210 American Innovations, Madison, J. . . . 296 The Federal Compact, Morris, G. . . . 96 Peace and National Honor, Morris, G. . . . Ill Fear of Foreign Power, Morris, G. . . . 200 Northern Laborers, Naylor, C. C. * . 148 The Death of Hamilton, JSott, A 105 The Snirit of Liberty, Otis, J. 296 The Sacred Trust of Liberty, Otis, W. F. . . . 355 The Death of Washington, ' Puine, R. T. . . 28 The Disinterestedness of "Washington, Pame, R. T. . . 55 French Aggressions, Paine, R. T. . . 196 Massachusetts and Virginia, Palfrey, J. G. . . 194 Death of Daniel Webster, Park, J. C. . . . 359 The National Defences, Pierce, F. .... 138 The Missouri Question, Pinckney,W. . 183 Xew England and the Union, Prentiss, S. S. . 20 The Famine in Ireland, Prentiss, S. S. . 153 The Right to discuss Presidential Acts, Preston, TV. C. . 39 The Patriot's Duty, Quincy, J. . . . 229 Extent of Country no Bar to Union, Randolph, F. . . 295 Fear of British Influence, Randolph, J. . . 202 Anniversary of the First Battle of the Revolution, . . Rantoul, R. Jr. . 31 Survivors of the Battle of Lexington, B.antonl, R. Jr. . 343 Value of the Union, Russell, C. T. . 124 Military Qualifications distinct from Civil, Sergeant, J. . . . 178 The Death of O'Connell, Seward, W. H. . 77 For the Irish Patriots, Shields, J. ... 338 The Fall of Switzerland, Smith, S 209 The Example of our Forefathers, Sparks, J. ... 62 Death of William Pinckney, Sparks, J. ... 113 The Stability of our Government, Sprague, C. . , . 65 Justice to England, Sprague, C. . . . 255 Hope, Spring, G. ... 122 The Dissolution of the Union, Stewart, A. . . . 117 Against Flogging in the Navy, Stockton, R. F. . 286 Destiny of America, Story, 78 The Fate of the Indians, Story, 97 Classical Studies, Story, 154 Dedication of the Cemetery at Mount Auburn, . . . . Story, J. .... 173 Ancient and Modern Productions, Sumner, C. . . . 29 Wisdom of the Ancients, Sumner, C. . . . 208 The Reign of Peace, Sumner, C. . . . 284 The American Government, Van Buren, M. . 292 Success of American Institutions, Van Buren, M. . 329 Our Scholars not dependent upon Privileged Orders, . Verplanck, G. C. . 56 £ INDEX TO .iTTO^nAPHS. f AGE The Freedom of Science in America, Verplanck, G. C. . 155 T.'ic Influence of Free Institutions Ennobling, .... Verplanck, G. C. . 165 Influence ot America upon Mankind, Verplanck, G. C. . ISO Anniversary of the Boston Massacre, Warren, J. . . . 142 Howard, the Philanthropist, Wayland, F. . . ll : 8 lirst Settlement of New England, . Webster, D. . . . 13 Laying of the Corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument, Webster, D.. . . 51 Our Country's Origin, Webster, P. . . . S3 Supposed Speech of John Adams, Webster, J}. . . . SO American Institutions, Webster, D. . . . 128 The Spirit of Human Liberty, Webster, I). . . . 136 Centennial Birthday of Washington, Webster, D. . . . 183 Eulogy upon J. C. Calhoun, Webster, D. . . . 21(> Free Discussion, Webster, D. . . . 233 The Murderer's Secret, Webster,!)* . . . 244 Moral Force against Physical, Webster, D. . . . 281 Adams and Jefferson, Webster, D. . . . 331 Resistance to Oppression in its Rudiments, Webster, JD* . . . 371 Liberty, Whipple, E. P. . KG The Puritan, Whipple, E. P. . 2S8 In Memory of Washington, Winthrop, R. C. . 21 Massachusetts Men in the Revolution, Winthrop, R. C. . 321 Importance of Education, Winthrop, R. C. . 327 Slow Growth of Freedom, Winthrop, R. C. . 337 New England and Virginia, Winthrop, R. C. . 3G2 Formation of Character, Wirt, W. ... 4 n f PAGE 444 -Duller, x>. jc • • . PAGS A 1 7 . 41 I Abercrouiby, J. . ai l . 4 i i Bellinghaui, B. . . 443 U„fl pr a p A 1 Q A ')A Benjamin, Park . A9ft a 4ZO A \0 A i l\ j_>enion, jl. h. . . AT 1 a 411 A 1 7 A A m n T uetnane, ix. \v. . . 404 Byron, INeol Lady • ir 48 Adams, John . . OO'J . ooo Riilrll.j T A '-HI a ioa Pi 1 'n/m n T P uaiuoun, «j . \j. . . . 41.4 A A -. t n RJ/^l/i AT A Oti. Oaluoun, \V . is. . . 425 OamDxeieng, O. Kj. . 440 Aiiisworta, VV. J±. . 435 A < It Campbell, A. . . . 417 A l/i/. W A A 'JU DOllU, »> . \j. . a . A91 a 4-1 oampneii, ±. . . P i in aiktil 1 W R UalllpDcH, >v a x>. a . 415 Alrlon T At 4 43 (i . 40 A Allen, Charles • . X>OLld, J * 1*1. • a • 422 Carleton, Guy • . Canning, Creorge . Allen, Ethan . . . . 4o 1 P- n Ju w P 445 a 4^U .nllatOl), w . . . . . 4 j i At 7 PorNrlu T A 1 ( A 1 t-/\w1 T n Ai\ om, J . o. . . A A U . 44tf .ooui/weu, \jr. o. . Al ft a 410 Carroll, Charles . a 380 Ames, k isher • . 40 y L>0>VUllUll, J_\ a a a a 411 Cass, Lewis ... A'i T a 40 45U Bowdoin, Jas. a a . 445 A 1 ^ Anthony, H. B. . A1A Boyd, Linn . . . .' 422 A •> O Appietoa, S. . . . . 446 Braddock, E. a a a 454 Channing, W. E. . . 4Z.4 a nu crauouiy, j. >> . . a 44U A O 1 Atherton, C. G\ . A 'in orauioiu, »v . . . a 443 Chase, S. P. . . . . 425 Audubon, J. J. Al «4 . 4ii» X>iaUIOltU, >V . . . . 441 Chase, Satnuel . . o u X Bainbridge, W. . Al 7 . 41 < Rr»*irl.L-t?-/}tif Q AIR Braxton, Carter . . 387 Cheever, G. B. . . . 4oJ uaiuwin, iv. o. . . 441 Bremer, I 1 • ■ ( « ■ . 423 Child, L. M. a a a Ballou, Hosea . . . 427 Brewster, W. . . a 451 Childs, H. H. . . 439 Baltimore, C. . . . 453 Bridgman, L. J. . a 454 Ciioate, Bufus . . . 435 . 422 BriggS, Ga ff. a . Banks, N. P. jr. . . 4iy Brooks, John . . a 430 441 Brooke, W. . . . Clay, Cassius M. . . 424 Barauui, P. T. . . . 452 Clay, Henry . . . . 412 Bartlett, Josiah . . 384 Browuell, T. C. . . a 420 . 451 Barron, James . . . 445 Brownson, 0. A. . a 417 Clifford, J. H. . . . 452 Clinton, De Witt . . 432 Barnes, A. . . . . 419 Bryant, W. C. . . a 420 Clinton, Sir II. . . . 420 Clymer, George . . 389 Bates, Isaac C. . . . 410 Buckingham, J. T. . 413 Cobbett, Wm. . . . 429 Beardsley, S. . . . 453 . 438 Burgess, T. . . . .432 Collier, H. W. . . . 439 Beecher, C. E. . . . 433 Burgoyne, J. F. . . 418 451 Burgoyne, J. . . . 411 Combe, Andrew . . 433 Beecher, H. W. . . 415 Burke, E Combe, George . . Combs, Leslie . . . 420 Beecher, L. . . . . 428 Burlingame, A. . Burritt, Elihu . . . 434 . 419 . 428 Congreve, Wni. . . . 425 .444! Cook, Eliza . . . 421 X INDEX TO AUTOGRAPHS. Cook, James . . Cookin, D. . . Cooper, J. F. Cooper, S. F. . Cornwallis, . . Corning, E. . . Corwin, T. . . Cox, Samuel II. Crawford, W. H. Crittenden, J. J. Crockett, D. . . Croswell, E. Cruikshank, George . 446 Cuvier, B. C. Cushing, Caleb . Cushman, H. W. Cushman, C. . . Daggett, D. . . Dale, R. . . . Dallas, G-. M. . Dana, R. II. . . Dana, R. H. jr. Dargon, G. W. . Davis, Isaac . . Davis, John . . Dawes, Rufus . Dawson, J. L. . Dawson, W. C. . Dayton, W. L. . Dearborn, H. A. Decatur, S. . . DeKay, Jas. E. DeQuincy, T. . Dewey, Orville . Dickens, C. . . Dickinson, D. S. Dickinson, M. . Dixon, A. . . . Dix, John A. . . Dorr, T. W. . . Douglas, S. A. . Dow, Neal . . Drake, S. G. . . Dudley, J. . . Dudley, Thomas D wight, T. . . Eaton, H. . . . Edgar ton, S. C. Edgeworth, M. . Edwards, J . . . Edwards, Justin Elgin, Lord . . Eliot, John . . Ellery, William Ellsworth, 0. . Embury, E. C. . Emerson, R. W. Emmet, T. A. . Endieott, J. . . PAGE . 435 I . 439 | . 427 .418 | . 417 .452 . 430 . 415 . 431 .418 . 442 . 421 . 438 I . 416 . 426 . 437 . 438 . 437 . 414 . 411 . 431 . 448 . 438 . 411 . 419 . 440 . 441 . 438 . 418 . 413 . 434 \ 446 . 429 . 439 . 419 . 433 . 451 . 427 . 447 . 420 . 426 . 439 . 444 . 443 . 423 . 449 . 429 . 421 . 428 . 441 . 453 . 415 . 384 . 410 . 410 . 428 . 445 . 443 Ericsson, J. . Eustis, William Evans, George Everett, A. H\ Everett, E. . Ewing, T. . . Farmer, John Fairbanks, E. Fairfield, John Faraday, M. . Fay, T. S. . . Felch, A. . . Felton, C. C. . Fessenden, T. G Fields, James T Fillmore, M. . Fitch, J. . . Fletcher, R. . Floyd, William Follen, C. . . Foot, Solomon Force, Peter, Forsyth, John Fort, G. F. . Franklin, B. . Frelinghuysen, T. Fremont, J. C. Frost, John . Frothingham, R Fry, Elizabeth Fulton, Robert Fuller, S. . . Gadsden, C. . Gage, Thomas Gaines, E. P. Gardner, Henry Gates, Horatio Gallatin, A. . Gallaudet, T. II Gentry, M. P. Gerry, E. . . Giddings, J. R Gilchrist, J. J. Giles, Henry . Gore, C. . . Gorges, F. . . Gough, J. B. Gould, H. F. Graham, J. R. G Graham, W. A. Granger, G. . Grant, Moses Grattan, Henry Greely, Horace Greene, C. G. Greene, N. . Greenleaf, S. Greenwood, (a. Grennell, G., . PAG3 . 448 . 428 . 434 . 423 .429 . 440 .434 . 448 . 434 .430 . 419 . 436 . 437 .430 . 428 .431 .437 . 438 . 386 . 424 . 417 . 442 . 421 . 447 . 389 . 429 . 454 . 428 . 422 .438 . 432 . 436 . 436 . 444 . 414 . 412 . 434 . 409 . 426 . 452 . 383 .424 . 437 446 453 445 425 419 428 440 425 423 425 423 418 445 444 421 Grey, . . . Grier, R. C. Grinnell, J. Griswold, R. W, Grundy, F. . Gwinnett, B. Habersham, J. Hale, John P. Hall, Anna M. Hall, Lyman . Hall, S. C. . Hal lam, Henry Halleck, Fitz G Hallett, B. F. Halliburton, T. C, Hamersley, W. J. Hamilton, A. . Hamilton, John Hamlin, H. . Hancock, John Harper, James Harper, R. G. Harrison, Benjamin . 387 Harrison, W. H. . . 410 Hart, John .... 388 Hawes, Joel . . . .417 Hawthorne, N. . . . 454 Hayne, R. Y. . . . 419 Haynes, J 443 Hemans, F 440 Hendrick, G. . . . 442 Henry, Patrick . . . 409 Henshaw, D. ... 429 Hewes, Joseph . . . 388 Hey ward, T. jr. . .390 Hibbard, Harry . . 416 Hildreth, R 421 Hill, Isaac .... 429 Hillard, C. S. . . . 415 Hillhouse, James . .416 Hillhouse, J. A. . . 442 Hilliard, II. W. . . 415 Hinckley, T. ... 443 Hitchcock, E. . . . 429 Hoar, S 445 Hoffman, 410 Holley, H 441 Holmes, I. E. ... 454 Holmos, O. W. . . .420 Hone, Philip, . . .431 Hood, Thomas, . . . 413 Hooper, Win. . . .388 Hopkins, E 412 Hopkins, M 430 Hopkins, S 384 Hopkinson, F. . . . 388 Houston, S 422 Howard, J. E. . . . 445 Howitt, Mary . . .432 PAGB . 440 . 440 .448 . 441 .447 . 390 .448 . 430 . 420 . 390 . 416 .447 . 410 . 442 . 435 . 420 . 430 .425 .450 . 383 . 413 . 439 INDEX TO AUTOGRAPHS. XI Howitt, Wm. Hubbard, John Hull, George Hull, Issfiie, . Humboldt, Humphreys, D. Hunt, Freeman Hunt, Leigh . . Hunt, W. . . . Hunter, R. M. T. Huntington, S. . Hutchinson, T. . Ingersoll, J. . . Ingersoll, J. R. Ingraham, E. D. Ingraham, J. H. Ingham, S. D. . Irving, W. . . Jackson, A. . . James, G. P. R. Jay, John . . . Jefferson, Thomas Jeffrey, F. . . Jerrold, D. . . Jesup, T. S. . . Johnson, Cave . Johnson, R. M. Jones, J. Paul . Judson, E. C. . Julian, G. W. . Kelley, A. . . Kellogg, E. H. . Kelly, A. B. . . Kendall, Amos, Kendrick, G. Kennedy, J. P. Kent, James . . King, Preston . King, Rufus . . King, T. Starr . King, W. R. . . Kirkland, C. M. Knapp, S. L. . . Knox, Henry Kossuth, Louia . Lafayette, . . . Lamartine, . . Laurens, Henry Lawrence, Abbott Lawrence, Amos Leavitt, Joshua Lee, Francis L. Lee, Rich. H. Legare, H. S. Leslie, Eliza . Leverett, J. . Lewis, D. H. Lewis, Francis Linooln, Levi 385 444 441 429 438 435 434 423 413 451 430 387 445 416 427 422 414 437 410 Lincoln, B. . 433 j Lind, Jenny . 445 Livingston, E. 414 Livingston, W. 417 ! Livingston, P. 43G Locke, J. . . 422 Longfellow, H. 445 Lowell, J. R. 426 Lumpkin, W. 450 Lyel!, C. . . Lynch, T., jr. Macaulay, T. B Macdonough, J Mackintosh, Jas Madison, Jas. Maffit, J. N. . Mallory, S. R. Mann, Horace Mangum, W. P Marcy, W. L. Marion, F. Marshall, John Mather, Cotton Mather, I. . Mathew, T. . Mazzini, J. . McLane, L. . McLean, John 448 1 Meagher, T. F. 433 Melbourne, . W 452 436 Merrick, P. . Middleton, A. 424 1 Miller, J. W. 431 1 Miller, William 442 M'Kean,T. . 420 \ Monroe, James 423 i Montgomery, J, 435 \ Moore, Thomas 437 More, Hannah 414!Morehead, J. T 424 1 Morgan, D. . 428 1 Morris, G. P. 410 ; Morris, Gouv. 429 Morris, Lewis 409 Morris, Robert 422 Morton, John 450 ! Morton, Marcus 415 Morse, S. F. B. 423 Moultrie, Wm. 420 Murdoch, J. E. Murray, John Murray, L. . Napoleon, . . Neal, Alice B. Neal, John . Nelson, T. jr. Niles, John M. North, . . . 434 387 387 428 413 443 432 386 435 Norton, A. pa;; 449 424 411 441 386 452 409 416 434 418 390 446 450 425 413 . 427 , 452 454 , 450 420 453 411 435 , 413 ,427 417 447 421 446 448 442 390 440 415 385 432 453 427 432 429 427 414 426 368 388 389 431 414 416 441 447 412 446 440 415 387 418 450 441 O'Connell, D. Osgood, F. S. Otis, H. G. . Otis, James . Otis, William F. Paca, William Pakenham, R. Paine, Robert T. Paine, C. . . Palfrey, J. G. Palmerston, .' Park, J. C. . Paruienter, W. Parsons, T. . Paulding, J. K. Payne, J. H. . Peabody, A. P. Peaslee, C. H. Peel, Robert . Penn, John . Penn, Wm. . Percival, J. G. Perkins, T. H. Petigru, J. L. Phillips, S. C. Phips, W. . . Pickering, T. Pierce, F. . . Pierpont, John Pitt, William Poe, Edgar A. Poindexter, G. Poinsett, J. R. Polk, Jqmes K. Porter, J. M. Powers, J. E. Pownall, T. . Preble, E. . . Prence, T. . . Prescott, W. H. Prescott, W. . Pulszky, F. . Pulszky, T. . Putnam, Israel Quincy, Josiah Quitman, J. A. Randolph, John Rantoul, R. jr. Revere, Paul Rhett, R. B. , Ritchie, Thomas Rives, Win. C. Rodney, Caesar Rogers, S. . . Ross, George Rush, Benj. . Rush, R. . . Rusk, T. L. . Kussoll, Beuj. XII INDEX TO AUTOGRAPHS. PAGE PAGE Washington, G. PAGE . 409 Kussell, John . . . 447 . 387 Washburn, Emory . 424 Stone, Thomas . . . 386 Washington, M. . . 417 Story, Joseph . . . 435 Watts, Isaac . . . 447 Saltonstall, L. . . . 454 Stowe, H. B. . . . 449 Wayne, A. . . . . 454 Santa Anna . . . . 447 Strong, Caleb . . . 440 Sargent, Epes . . . 428 . 433 . 414 Sawtelle, Cullen . . 412 Stuart, Gilbert . . . 411 Webb, Jas. W. . . . 432 Saxe, John G. . . . 410 Stuart, Moses . . . 419 Schoolcraft, H. R. . 43G Webster, Noah . . . 423 Scott, Walter . . . 430 Weld, H. H. . . . . 426 Scott, Winfield . . . 420 Wellington, . . . . 447 Seaton, W. W. . . . 414 "Wellington, A. S. . 451 Seabrook, W. 13. . . 450 Tallmadge, N. P. . 409 Sedgwick, CM. . . 414 Wesley, John . . . 428 Sergeant, John . 433 Taylor, Bayard . 413 West, B . 438 Sewall, Samuel . 433 Taylor, Zachary . Thackeray, W. M. . 429 Seward, W. H. . . . 413 . 447 Whipple, Win. ■» . . 384 Seymour, T. H. . . 430 Thomas, Isaiah . . . 430 Whitefield, G. . . . 410 Sharp, D . 446 Thomas, R. B. . . . 430 Whittier, J. G. . 432 Shaw, Lemuel . . . 436 Thornton, M. . . . 384 Whittcmore, T. . . 451 . 385 Whittlesey, E. . . . 452 Shields, James . . . 431 Toombs, Robert . . 432 WickliSe.C. A. . . 423 Wilberforce, W. . . 433 Shube, S . 444 Toucey, Isaac . . Trumbull, John . . 412 Si^ourney, L. H. . 431 . 425 AYilliams, W. . . . 385 Silliman, Benj. Simins, W. G. . . Smalley, D. A. Smith, Gerritt . . . 409 Trumbull, Jos. . . . 411 Willis, N. P. . . . 426 . 414 . 451 Tupper, M. F. . . . 421 Wilmot, David . . . 410 . 433 Tyler, John . . . . 416 Wilson, A. . . . . 436 Smith, John C. . . . 434 Upham, Win. . . . 419 Wilson, Henry . . Wilson, James . . . 442 Smith, Seba . . . . 417 Van Buren, J. . . . 389 . 412 Soule, Pierre *. . . 431 Van Buren, M. . . . 415 Winslow, Josiah . . 443 Southard, S. L. . 437 A r ane, II . 443 Winthrop, R. C. . . 416 Southey, Robert . . 418 Vanderlyn, J. . . . 418 Winthrop, J. . . . 443 Sparks, Jarcd . . . 413 Van JSfess, C. P. . . 448 Wirt, William, . . . 409 Spencer, J. A. . . . 451 Verplanck, G. C. . . 446 Wise, Henry A. . 435 Witherspoon, J. . 387 Walker, Amasa . . 416 Wolcott, Oliver . . . 385 Sprague, W. B. . Spurzheim, . . . . 449 Walker, R. J. . . . 425 Woodbury, L. . . . 422 431 Walley, S. H. . . 440 Woods, Leonard . 415 . 391 Wool, John E. . . . 435 Stark, John . . . . 416 Wal worth, R. H. . . 451 Worcester, J. E. . . 430 Steele, J. H. . . . 445 Ware, W . 420 Wordsworth, W. . . 425 Stephens, J. L. . 440 Wright, S. jr. . .417 Steuben, Baron de . 437 . 436 SPECIMENS OF AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. IN COMMEMORATION OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. — D. Webster. Let us rejoice that we behold this day ! Let us be thankful t.nat we have lived to see the bright and happy breaking cf the auspicious morn which commences the third century cf the history of New England! Auspicious, indeed, — bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence to men, full of pres- ent joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect of futurity, — is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the landing of the Pilgrims. Living at an epoch which, naturally marks the progress of the history of our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with which that history commenced. Forever hon- ored be this, the place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remem- bered the day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken in everything but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man ! "We have come to this rock to record here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers ; our sympathy in their sufferings, our gratitude for their labors, our admiration of their virtues, our veneration for their piety, and our attachment to those principles of civil and religious liberty, which thev encountered the dangers of the ocean, 2 14 SPECIMENS OF the storms of heaven, the violence of savages, disease, exile and famine, to enjoy and to establish. And we would leave here, also, for the generations which are rising up rapidly to fill our places, some proof that we have endeavored to transmit the great inherit- ance unimpaired; that in our estimate of public principles and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our devo- tion to civil and religious liberty, in our regard to whatever advances human knowledge or improves human happiness, we are not altogether unworthy of our origin. There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be resisted, — a sort of genius of the place, which inspires and awes us. We feel that we are on the spot where the first scene of our history was laid ; where the hearths and altars of New Eng- land were first placed ; where Christianity, and civilization, and letters, made their first lodgment, in a vast extent of country, cov- ered with a wilderness, and peopled by roving barbarians. We are here at the season of the year at which the event took place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly draws around us the prin- cipal features and the leading characters in the original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where the little bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its slow pro- gress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and promontories where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places of habitation and of rest. We feel the cold which benumbed and listen to the winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the rock on which New England received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold them, as they struggle with the elements, and, with toilsome efforts, gain the shore. We listen to the chiefs in counsel ; we see the unexampled exhibition of female fortitude and resignation ; we hear the whisperings of youthful impatience, and we see, what a painter of our own has also represented by his pencil, chilled and shivering childhood, houseless but for a mother's arms, couchless but for a mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of Carver, and of Bradford ; the deci- sive and soldier-like air and manner of Standish ; the devout Brews- AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 15 ter ; the enterprising Allerton ; the general firmness and thought- fulness of the whole band ; their conscious joy for dangers escaped, their deep solicitude about dangers to come, their trust in Heaven, their high religious faith, full of confidence and anticipations, all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence and admiration. The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be past. Neither we nor our children can expect to behold its return. They are in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power of God, who shall stand here, a hun- dred years hence, to trace, through us, their descent from the Pil- grims, and to survey, as we have now surveyed, the progress of their country, during the lapse of a century. We would anticipate their concurrence with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our common ancestors. We would anticipate and partake the pleasure with which they will then recount the steps of New England's advancement. On the morning of that day, although it will not disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation and gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be transmitted through millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the murmurs of the Pacific seas. TVe would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our places some proof that we hold the blessings trans- mitted from our fathers in just estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good government, and of civil and religious liberty ; some proof of a sincere and ardent desire to pro- mote everything which may enlarge the understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long distance of an hundred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, at least, that we possessed affections, which, running backward, and warming with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore of being. Advance, then, yc future generations ! We would hail you, as 16 SPECIMENS OF you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have passed, our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of science and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and chil- dren. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of ever- lasting truth ! THE CONSEQUENCES OF DISUNION. — II. Clay. I have been accused of ambition in presenting this measure. Ambition ! inordinate ambition ! If I had thought of myself only, I should have never brought it forward. I know well the perils to which I expose myself ; the risk of alienating faithful and valued friends, with but little prospect of making new ones, if any new ones could compensate for the loss of those whom we have long tried and loved, — and the honest misconceptions both of friends and foes. Ambition ! If I had listened to its soft and seducing whispers, if I had yielded myself to the dictates of a cold, calculat- ing and prudential policy, I would have stood still and unmoved. I might even have silently gazed on the raging storm, enjoyed its loudest thunders, and left those who are charged with the care of the vessel of state to conduct it as they could. I have been here- tofore often unjustly accused of ambition. Low, grovelling souls, who are utterly incapable of elevating themselves to the higher and nobler duties of pure patriotism, — beings who, forever keeping their own selfish aims in view, decide all public measures by their pre- sumed infj lence on their aggrandizement, — judge me by the venal rule which they prescribe to themselves. I have given to the wind:; those false accusations, as I consign that which now impeaches my \ AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 17 motives. I have no desire for office, not even the highest. The most exalted is but a prison, in which the incarcerated incumbent daily receives his cold, heartless visitants, marks his weary hours, and is cut off from the practical enjoyment of all the blessings of genuine freedom. I am no candidate for any office in the gift of the people of these states, united or separated; I never wish, never expect to be. Pass this bill, tranquillize the country, restore confidence and affection in the Union, and I am willing to go home to Ashland, and renounce public service forever. I should there find, in its groves, under its shades, on its lawns, amidst my flocks and herds, in the bosom of my family, sincerity and truth, attachment, and fidelity, and gratitude, which I have not always found in the walks of public life. Yes, I have ambition ; but it is the ambition of being the humble instrument, in the hands of Prov- idence, to reconcile a divided people, once more to revive concord and harmony in a distracted land, — the pleasing ambition of con- templating the glorious spectacle of a free, united, prosperous, and fraternal people ! South Carolina must perceive the embarrassments of her situa- tion. She must be desirous — it is unnatural to suppose that she is not — to remain in the Union. What ! a state whose heroes in its gallant ancestry fought so many glorious battles along with those of the other states of this Union, — a state with which this confederacy is linked by bonds of such a powerful character ! I have sometimes fancied what would be her condition, if she goes out of this Union, — if her five hundred thousand people should at once be thrown upon their own resources. She is out of the Union. What is the consequence ? She is an independent power. What then does she do ? She must have armies and fleets, and an expens- ive government ; have foreign missions ; she must raise taxes, — enact this very tariff, which had driven her out of the Union, in order to enable her to raise money, and to sustain the attitude of an independent power. If she should have no force, no navy to protect her, she would be exposed to piratical incursions. Her neighbor, St. Domingo, might pour down a horde of pirates on her 2* 18 SPECIMENS Off borders, and desolate her plantations. She must have her embas- sies, — therefore must she have a revenue. But I will not dwell on this topic any longer. I say it is utterly impossible that South Carolina ever desired, for a moment, to become a separate and independent state. I would repeat that, under all the circumstances of the case, the condition of South Car- olina is only one of the elements of a combination, the whole of which together constitutes a motive of action which renders it expedient to resort, during the present session of Congress, to some measure, in order to quiet and tranquillize the country. If there be any who want civil war, — who want to see the blood of any portion of our countrymen spilt, — I am not one of them. I wish to see war of no kind ; but, above all, do I not desire to see a civil war. When war begins, whether civil or foreign, no human foresight is competent to foresee when, or how, or where, it is to terminate. But, when a civil war shall be lighted up in the bosom of our own happy land, and armies are marching, and commanders are winning their victories, and fleets are in motion on our coast, — tell me, if you can, tell me if any human being can tell, its dura- tion ! God alone knows where such a war will end ! FROM A EULOGY ON LAFAYETTE. — E. Everett. But it is more than time, fellow-citizens, that I commit the mem- ory of this great and good man to your unprompted contemplation. On his arrival among you, ten years ago, — when your civil fathers, your military, your children, your whole population, poured itself out, as one throng, to salute him, — when your cannons proclaimed his advent with joyous salvos, and your acclamations were responded from steeple to steeple, by the voice of festal bells, — with what delight did you not listen to his cordial and affectionate words : " I beg of you all, beloved citizens of Boston, to accept the respect- ful and warm thanks of a heart which has for nearly half a century been devoted to your illustrious city!" That noble heart, — to which, if any object on earth was dear, that object was the counl ry AMERICAN EL0QUE1 CE. 19 of his early choice, of his adoption, and his more than regai tri- umph, — that noble heart will beat no more for your welfare. Cold and motionless, it is already mingling with the dust. While he lived, you thronged with delight to his presence ; you gazed with admiration on his placid features and venerable form, not wholly unshaken by the rude storms of his career ; and now that he is departed, you have assembled in this cradle of the liberties for which, with your fathers, he risked his life, to pay the last honors to his memory. You have thrown open these consecrated portals to admit the lengthened train, which has come to discharge the last public offices of respect to his name. You have hung these vener- able arches, for the second time since their erection, with the sable badges of sorrow. You have thus associated the memory of Lafayette in those distinguished honors which but a few years since you paid to your Adams and Jefferson; and, could your wishes and mine have prevailed, my lips would this day have been mute, and the same illustrious voice which gave utterance to your filial emotions over their honored graves would have spoken also for you over him who shared their earthly labors, enjoyed their friend- ship, and has now gone to share their last repose, and their imper- ishable remembrance. There is not, throughout the world, a friend of liberty, who has not dropped his head, when he has heard that Lafayette is no more. Poland, Italy, Greece, Spain, Ireland, the South American repub- lics, — every country where man is struggling to recover his birth- right, — has lost a benefactor, a patron, in Lafayette. But you, young men, at whose command I speak, — for you a bright and particular loadstar is henceforward fixed in the front of heaven. What young man that reflects on the history of Lafayette, — that sees him in the morning of his days the associate of sages, the friend of Washington, — but will start with new vigor on the path of duty and renown ? And what was it, fellow-citizens, which gave to our Lafayette his spotless fame ? The love of liberty. What has consecrated his memory in the hearts of good men ? The love of liberty. What nerved his youthful arm with strength, and inspired him in the 20 SPECIMENS OY morning of his days with sagacity and counsel ? The living love of liberty. To what did he sacrifice power, and rank, and country, and freedom itself? To the horror of licentiousness, to the sanc- tity of plighted faith, to the love of liberty protected by law. Thus the great principle of your Revolutionary fathers, of your Pilgrim sires, — the great principle of the age, — was the rule of his life : The love of liberty protected by law. You have now assembled within these celebrated walls to per- form the last duties of respect and love, on the birth-day of your benefactor, beneath that roof which has resounded of old with the master voices of American renown. The spirit of the departed is in high communion with that spirit of the place ; the temple, worthy of the new name which we now behold inscribed on its walls. Listen, Americans, to the lessons which seem borne to us on the very air we breathe, while we perform these dutiful rites ! \Ye winds, that wafted the Pilgrims to the land of promise, fan in their children's hearts the love of freedom ! Blood which our fathers shed, cry from the ground! Echoing arches of this renowned hall, whisper back the voices of other days ! Glorious Washington, break the long silence of that votive canvas ! — speak, speak, marble lips ! — teach us tiie love of liberty protected by law ! NEW ENGLAND AND THE UNION. — S. S. Prentiss. Glorious New England ! thou art still true to thy ancient fame, and worthy of thy ancestral honors. On thy pleasant val- leys rest, like sweet dews of morning, the gentle recollections of our early life ; around thy hills and mountains cling, like gather- ing mists, the mighty memories of the Revolution ; and far away in the horizon of thy past gleam, like thy own bright northern lights, the awful virtues of our Pilgrim sires ! But, while we devote this day to the remembrance of our native land, we forget not that in which our happy lot is cast. We exult in the reflec- tion that, though we count by thousands the miles which separate us from our birth-place, still our country is the same. We are no exiles meeting upon the banks of a foreign river ? to swell its waters AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 21 with our homesick tears. Here floats the same banner which rus- tled above our boyish heads, except that its mighty folds are wider, and its glittering stars increased in number. The sons of New England are found in every state of the broad republic. In the east, the south, and the unbounded west, their blood mingles freely with every kindred current. We have but changed our chamber in the paternal mansion ; in all its rooms we are at home, and all who inhabit it are our brothers. To us the Union has but one domestic hearth ; its household gods are all the same. Upon us, then, peculiarly devolves the duty of feeding the fires upon that kindly hearth, of guarding with pious care those sacred household gods. We cannot do with less than the whole Union ; to us it admits of no division. In the veins of our children flows northern and southern blood : how shall it be separated ? — who shall put asun- der the best affections of the heart, the noblest instincts of our nature ? We love the land of our adoption ; so do we that of our birth. Let us ever be true to both, and always exert ourselves in maintaining the unity of our country, the integrity of the republic. Accursed, then, be the hand put forth to loosen the golden cord of union ! thrice accursed the traitorous lips which shall propose its severance ! IN MEMORY OF WASHINGTON. — R. C. Winthrop. But, fellow-citizens, while we thus commend the character and example of Washington to others, let us not forget to imitate it ourselves. I have spoken of the precise period which we have reached in our own history, as well as in that of the world at large, as giving something of peculiar interest to the proceedings in which we are engaged. I may not, I will net, disturb the harmony of the scene before me, by the slightest allusion of a party character. The circumstances of the occasion forbid it ; the associations of the day forbid it ; the character of him in whose honor we are assem- bled forbids it ; my own feelings revolt from it. But I may say, I must say, and every one within the sound of my voice will sus- 22 SPECIMENS OF tain me in saying, that there has been ho moment since Washing* ton himself was among us when it was more important than at this moment that the two great leading principles of his policy should be remembered and cherished. Those principles were, first, the most complete, cordial, and indissoluble Union of the States ; and, second, the most entire sepa- ration and disentanglement of our own country from all other coun- tries. Perfect union among ourselves, perfect neutrality towards others, and peace, peace, domestic peace and foreign peace, as the result, — this was the chosen and consummate policy of the Father of his Country. But, above all, and before all, in the heart of "Washington, was the Union of the States ; and no opportunity was ever omitted by him to impress upon his fellow-citizens the profound sense which he entertained of its vital importance at once to their prosperity and their liberty. In that incomparable address in which he bade farewell to his countrymen at the close of his presidential service, he touched upon many other topics with the earnestness of a sincere conviction. He called upon them, in solemn terms, to " cherish public credit ; " to " observe good faith and justice towards all nations," avoiding both "inveterate antipathies and passionate attachments" towards any ; to mitigate and assuage the unquenchable fire of party spirit, " lest, instead of warming, it should consume ; " to abstain from " characterizing parties by geographical distinctions ; " " to promote institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge ; " to respect and uphold " religion and morality, those great pillars of human happiness, those firmest props of the duties of men and of citizens." But what can exceed, what can equal, the accumulated intensity of thought and of expression with which he calls upon them to cling to the Union of the States. " It is of infinite moment," says he, in language which we ought never to be weary of hearing or of repeating, " that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national union to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, immovable attachment to it ; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the pal- AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 23 ladium of your political mfety and prosperity, watching for its pres- ervation with jealous anxiety, discountenancing whatever may sug- gest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned, and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts." The Union — the Union in any event — was thus the sentiment cf Washington. The Union — the JJnion in any event — let it be our sentiment this day ! Yes, to-day, fellow-citizens, at the very moment when the exten- sion of our boundaries and the multiplication of our territories are producing, directly and indirectly, among the different members of our political system, so many marked and mourned centrifugal tendencies, let us seize this occasion to renew to each other our vows of allegiance and devotion to the American Union, and let us recognize in our common title to the name and the fame of Washington, and in our common veneration for his example and his advice, the all-sufficient centripetal power which shall hold the thick-clustering stars of our confederacy in one glorious constella- tion forever ! Let the column which we are about to construct be at once a pledge and an emblem of perpetual union ! Let the found- ations be laid, let the superstructure be built up and cemented, let each stone be raised and riveted, in a spirit of national brother- hood ! And may the earliest ray of the rising sun — till that sun shall set to rise no more — draw forth frc|n it daily, as from the fabled statue of antiquity, a strain of national harmony, which shall strike a responsive chord in every heart throughout the republic ! Proceed, then, fellow-citizens, with the work for which you have assembled! Lay the corner-stone of a monument which shall adequately bespeak the gratitude of the whole American people to the illustrious Father of his Country ! Build it to the skies ; you cannot outreach the loftiness of his principles ! Found it upon the massive and eternal rock ; you cannot make it more enduring than his fame ! Construct it of the peerless Parian mar- ble ; you cannot make it purer than his life ! Exhaust upon it 24 SPECIMENS OF the rules and principles of ancient and of modern art ; you cannot make it more proportionate than his character ! But let not your homage to his memory end here. Think not to transfer to a tablet or a column the tribute which is due from yourselves. J ust honor to Washington can only be rendered by observing his precepts and imitating his example. Similitudine decoremus. He has built his own monument. We, and those who come after us in successive generations, are its appointed, its privileged guardians. This wide-spread republic is the true monu- ment to Washington. Maintain its independence. Uphold its constitution. Preserve its union. Defend its liberty. Let it stand before the world in all its original strength and beauty, securing peace, order, equality and freedom, to all within its bound- aries, and shedding light and hope and joy upon the pathway of human liberty throughout the world, — and "Washington needs no other monument. Other structures may fitly testify our venera- tion for him : this, this alone, can adequately illustrate his services to mankind. Nor does he need even this. The republic may perish ; the wide arch of our ranged Union may fall ; star by star its glories may expire ; stone after stone its. columns and its capitol may moulder and crumble ; all other names which adorn its annals may be forgotten ; but, as long as human hearts shall anywhere pant, or human tongues shall anywhere plead, for a true, rational, con- stitutional liberty, those hearts shall enshrine the memory, and those tongues shall prolong the fame, of George Washington ! SORROW FOR THE DEAD. — W. Irving. Sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction to forget ; but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open, this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude. Where is the mother that would willingly forget the infant that perished like a blossom from her arms, though every recollection is a pang ? AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 25 Where is the child that would willingly forget the most tender of parents, though to remember be but to lament ? Who, even in the hour of agony, would forget the friend over whom he mourns 2 Who, even when the tomb is closing upon the remains of her he most loved, and he feels his heart, as it were, crushed in the closing of its portal, would accept consolation- that was to be bought by forgetfulness ? No ! the love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of the soul. If it has its woes, it has like- wise its delights ; and, when the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recollection, when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who would root out such a sor- row from the heart ? Though it may sometimes throw a passing cloud even over the bright hour of gayety, or spread a deeper sad- ness over the hour of gloom, yet who would exchange it even for the song of pleasure or the burst of revelry ? No ! there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song ; there is a recollection of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living. 0, the grave ! the grave ! It buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down upon the grave even of an enemy, and not feel a compunc- tious throb, that ever he should have warred with the poor handful of earth that lies mouldering before him ? The grave of those we loved — what a place for meditation! There it is that we call up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness, and the thousand endearments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy; there it is that we dwell upon the tenderness, the solemn, awful tenderness, of the parting scene : the bed of death, with all its stifled griefs , its noiseless attendance ; its mute, watchful assiduities ; the last testimonies of expiring love; the feeble, fluttering, thrilling (0, how thrilling!) pressure of the hand; the last. fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us even from the threshold of existence ; 3 26 SPECIMENS OF the faint, faltering accents, struggling in death to give one more assurance of affection ! Ay, go to the grave of buried love, and meditate ! There settle the account with thy conscience for every past benefit unrequited, every past endearment unregarded, of that being who can never, never, never return, to be soothed by thy contrition ! If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul or a furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent ; if thou art a husband, and hast ever caused the fond bosom, that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of thy kind- ness or thy truth ; if thou art a friend, and hast ever wronged in thought, word or deed, the spirit that generously confided in thee ; if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath thy feet ; — then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back upon thy memory, and knocking dolefully at thy soul ; then be sure that thou wilt lie down sorrowing and repentant on the grave, and utter the unheard groan, and pour the unavailing tear, — more deep, more bitter, because unheard and unavailing. Then weave thy chaplet of flowers, and strew the beauties of nature about the grave ; console thy broken spirit, if thou canst, with these tender, yet futile tributes of regret ; but take warning by the bitterness of this thy contrite affliction over the dead, and be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy duties to the living ! REPUBLICS. — H. S. Lcgard. The name of republic is inscribed upon the most imperishable monuments of the species ; and it is probable that it will continue to be associated, as it has been in all past ages, with whatever is heroic in character, and sublime in genius, and elegant and bril- liant in the cultivation of arts and letters. It w r ould not be diffi- cult to prove that the base hirelings who have so industriously AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 27 inculcated a contrary doctrine have been compelled to falsify his- tory and abuse reason. It might be asked, triumphantly, what land has ever been visited with the influences of liberty, that has not flourished like the spring ? What people has ever worshipped at her altars, without kindling with a loftier spirit, and putting forth more noble ener- gies ? Where has she ever acted, that her deeds have not been heroic ? Where has she ever spoken, that her eloquence has not been triumphant and sublime ? With respect to ourselves, would it not be enough to say that we live under a form of government and in a state of society to which the world has never yet exhibited a parallel ? Is it, then, nothing to be free ? How many nations, in the whole annals of human kind, have proved themselves worthy of being so ? Is it nothing that we are republicans ? Were all men as enlightened, as brave, as proud, as they ought to be, would they suffer themselves to be insulted with any other title ? Is it nothing, that so many inde- pendent sovereignties should be held together in such a confederacy as ours ? What does history teach us of the difficulty of institut- ing and maintaining such a polity, and of the glory that, of conse- quence, ought to be given to those who enjoy its advantages in so much perfection and on so grand a scale ? For, can anything be more striking and sublime than the idea of an imperial republic, spreading over an extent of territory more immense than the empire of the Caesars in the accumulated conquests of a thousand years — without prefects or proconsuls or publicans — founded in the maxims of common sense — employing within itself no arms but those of reason — and known to its subjects only by the blessings it bestows or perpetuates, yet capable of directing, against, a foreign foe, all the energies of a military despotism, — a republic, in which men are completely insignificant, and principles and laws exercise, throughout its vast dominion, a peaceful and irresistible sway, blending in one divine harmony such various habits and conflicting opinions, and mingling in our institutions the light of philosophy with all that is dazzling in the associations of heroic achievement, and extended domination, and deep-seated and formidable power ! 28 Sl'KClMKNS OF THE DEATH OF WASHINGTON R. T. Paine. Having accomplished the embassy of a benevolent Providence, Washington, the founder of one nation, the sublime instructor of all, took his flight to heaven ; — not like Mahomet, for his memory is immortal without the fiction of a miracle ; not like Elijah, for recording time has not registered the man on whom his mantle should descend ; but in humble imitation of that Omnipotent Architect, who returned from a created universe to contemplate from his throne the stupendous fabric he had erected ! The august form whose undaunted majesty could arrest the lightning, ere it fell on the bosom of his country, now sleeps in silent ruin, untenanted of its celestial essence. But the incorrupt- ible example of his virtues shall survive, unimpaired by the corro- sion of time, and acquire new vigor and influence from the crimes of ambition and the decay of empires. The invaluable valediction bequeathed to the people who inherited his affections is the effort of a mind whose powers, like those of prophecy, could overleap the tardy progress of human reason, and unfold truth without the labor of investigation. Impressed in indelible characters, this legacy of his intelligence will descend, unsullied as its purity, to the wonder and instruction of succeeding generations ; and, should the mild philosophy of its maxims be ingrafted into the policy of nations, at no distant period will the departed hero, who now lives only in the spotless splendor of his own great actions, exist in the happiness and dignity of mankind. The sighs of contemporary gratitude have attended the sublime spirit to its paternal abode, and the prayers of meliorated posterity will ascend in glowing remembrance of their illustrious benefactor ! The laurels that now droop as they shadow his tomb with monu- mental glory will be watered by the tears of ages; and, embalmed in the heart of an admiring world, the temple erected to his mem- ory will be more glorious than the pyramids, and as eternal as his own imperishable virtues! AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 29 ANCIENT AXD MODERN PRODUCTIONS. — C. Sumner. The classics possess a peculiar charm, from the circumstance that they have been the models, I might almost say the masters, of composition and thought, in all ages. In the contemplation of these august teachers of mankind, we are filled with conflicting emotions. They are the early voice of the world, better remem- bered and more cherished still than all the intermediate words that have been uttered, as the lessons of childhood still haunt us when the impressions of later years have been effaced from the mind. But they show with most unwelcome frequency the tokens of the world's childhood, before passion had yielded to the sway of reason and the affections. They want the highest charm of purity, of righteousness, of elevated sentiments, of love to God and man. It is not in the frigid philosophy of the porch and the academy that we are to seek these ; not in the marvellous teachings of Soc- rates, as they come mended by the mellifluous words of Plato ; not in the resounding line of Homer, on whose inspiring tale of blood Alexander pillowed his head ; not in the animated strain of Pindar, where virtue is pictured in the successful strife of an athlete at the Isthmian games ; not in the torrent of Demosthenes, dark with self-love and the spirit of vengeance ; not in the fitful philosophy and intemperate eloquence of Tully ; not in the genial libertinism of Horace, or the stately atheism of Lucretius. No ! these must not be our masters ; in none of these are we to seek, the way of life. For eighteen hundred years the spirit of these writers has been engaged in weaponless contest with the Sermon on the Mount, and those two sublime commandments on which hang all the law and the prophets. The strife is still pending. Heathenism, which has possessed itself of such siren forms, is not yet exorcised. It still tempts the young, controls the affairs of active life, and haunts the meditations of age. Our own productions, though they may yield to those of the ancients in the arrangement of ideas, in method, in beauty of form, and in freshuess of illustration, are immeasurably superior in the truth, delicacy and elevation of their sentiments, — above all, in 2* CO SPECIMENS OF the benign recognition of that great Christian revelation, the broth- erhood of man. How vain are eloquence and poetry, compared with this heaven-descended truth ! Put in one scale that simple utterance, and in the other the lore of antiquity, with its accumu- lating glosses and commentaries, and the last will be light and trivial in the balance. Greek poetry has been likened to the song of the nightingale as she sits in the rich, symmetrical crown of the palm-tree, trilling her thick-warbled notes ; but even this is less sweet and tender than the music of the human heart. DEATH OF JOHX Q. ADAMS. — I. E. Holmes. The mingled tones of sorrow, like the voice of many waters, have come unto us from a sister state — Massachusetts, weeping for her honored son. The state I have the honor in part to repre- sent once endured, with her, a common suffering, battled for a common cause, and rejoiced in a common triumph. Surely, then, it is meet that in this the day of her affliction we should mingle our griefs. When a great man falls, the nation mourns ; when a patriarch is removed, the people weep. Ours, my associates, is no common bereavement. The chain which linked our hearts with the gifted spirits of former times has been suddenly snapped. The lips from which flowed those living and glorious truths that our fathers uttered are closed in death. Yes, my friends, Death has been among us! He has not entered the humble cottage of some unknown, ignoble peasant ; he has knocked audibly at the palace of a nation ! His footstep has been heard in the halls of state ! He has cloven down his victim in the midst of the councils of a people. He has borne in triumph from among you the gravest, wisest, most reverend head. Ah ! he has taken him as a trophy who was once chief over many statesmen, adorned with virtue, and learning, and truth ; he has borne at his chariot-wheels a renowned one of the earth. How often we have crowded into that aisle, and clustered around that now vacant desk, to listen to the counsels of wisdom as they AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 31 fell from the lips of the venerable sage, we can all remember, for it was but of yesterday. But what a change ! How wondrous ! how sudden ! 'T is like a vision of the night. That form which we beheld but a few days since is now cold in death ! But the last Sabbath, and in this hall he worshipped with others. Now his spirit mingles with the noble army of martyrs and the just made perfect, in the eternal adoration of the living God. With him, " this is the end of earth." He sleeps the sleep that knows no waking. He is gone — and forever ! The sun that ushers in the morn of that next holy day, while it gilds the lofty dome of the capitol, shall rest with soft and mellow light upon the consecrated spot beneath whose turf forever lies the Patriot Father and the Patriot Sage. THE SEVENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE FIRST BATTLE OF THE REVOLUTION. — R. Ranloul, Jr. The prospect before Hancock and Adams, on the ever-glorious nineteenth of April, was, to be soon proclaimed traitors ; and, if the giant despotism they had provoked crushed the incipient rebellion, as the world looking on expected, that then their ghastly heads would frown from Temple Bar, and their blasted names be bequeathed to eternal infamy, both in the Old World and the New, — triumphant tyranny having silenced the voice of truth, justice, and patriotism. The " condign punishment " denounced against these champions of the constitutional rights of Englishmen involved atrocities too horrible to be alluded to here ; it was an exhibition from which a heathen spectator might naturally infer that not the dove, but the vulture, was the emblem of Christianity. It had been first inflicted on an unfortunate patriot guilty of the precise crime of Hancock and Adams, — David, Prince of Wales, — who, in the eleventh year of Edward I., expiated by a cruel death his fidelity to the cause of his country's independence. At a grand consultation of the peers of the realm, it was agreed that London should be graced with his head, while York and Winchester dis- puted for the honor of his right shoulder. In a few years other 32 SPECIMENS OF Welsh chiefs suffered the fate of their prince. This unseemly pre- cedent, adopted in the flush and insolence of victory, then assumed the venerable form of law, and fell next upon the undaunted Wil- liam Wallace, who nobly died in defence of the liberties and inde- pendence of his country, exhibiting to the delighted city of London a terrible example <5f Edward's vengeance. Such was the begin- ning of that law of treason, which, originating in the year 1283, continued in force for more than five centuries, as if to warn man- kind how easily the most execrable example may be introduced, and with what difficulty a country is purified from its debasing influence. Why should I single out illustrious victims of these rites of Moloch ? The ever-hallowed names in the perennial pages of British glory, you may read them in the attainted catalogue of arrant traitors. Long after the ashes of Welsh independence were quenched in the blood of a native prince, — ages after the spirit of Scottish liberty was roused, not crushed, by the ignominious butch- ery of Wallace, — More and Fisher, learning and piety, Hussell and Sidney, integrity and honor, were sacrificed upon the scaffold of treason, beneath the axe of arbitrary power. These lessons of history might have taught our Hancock and Adams that the holy cause to which they were devoted, purity of motive, and a charac- ter untouched by any shaft of calumny, were not pleas in bar to a British indictment for treason. Why, then, was the prospect of coming perils glorious to the eye of far-seeing patriotism ? For the high prize that could be won by none but souls tempered to pass through the intervening agony, who, for the joy that was set before them, could endure the cross and despise the shame, — Liberty, the life of life, that glad- dens the barren hill-tops of Scotland, and Switzerland, and loved New England, — that makes the sun shine brightly in our cold northern sky, that makes the valleys verdant in blithesome spring, and sober autumn laugh in her golden exuberance, — that nerves the arm of labor and blesses the couch of repose, that clothes with strength our sons and our daughters with beauty, — Liberty, in whose devotion they were nursed, — which their fathers had bequeathed to them, a legacy to be handed down unimpaired, AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 33 through ourselves, to their and our latest posterity ; to which they clung through life, and which inspired the patriotism that could freely testify to die for one's country is a joy and a glory. Young freedom had ever been consecrated by the baptism of bbod. Sparta and Athens, Holland and the mountain-girt Swiss, proud Albion and regenerated France, bought at a cheap purchase, with the lavish expense of their best lives, the rights which they enjoyed. Adams and his compatriots, on the day we have met to celebrate, knew that liberty must be, as it ever had been, a life- bought boon ; that only by a mortal struggle could it be wrested from the grasp of power ; and that nothing but perpetual vigilance, resolved to do and dare and suffer all things, rather than surren- der it, could guarantee the long possession of the blessing after- wards. They had counted the cost, and chose the purchase. Glorious, thrice glorious, was the morning, then, when the first shot fired at Lexington gave the signal of separation of a free and independent empire from its parent state ! The nineteenth of April, and the seventeenth of June, both on the classic ground of the world's freedom, this county of Middlesex, cut out the work for the fourth of July, — world-emancipating work, which the achievements of the heroes of the uprising of America, and the Titanic labors of the transatlantic sons of revolution, yet agitate and roll on towards its grand completion ! Middlesex possesses this imperishable glory, before which the lustre of the brightest victories, won in battles between contending tyrants, turns pale. Her children claim a common property in the trophies of these two memorable days ; they walk together in the light of these two glowing beacon-fires, kindled on that stormy coast where Liberty has taken up her eternal abode, to illuminate, with the cheering radiance of hope, her benighted pilgrims, who can look nowhere else for hope but to this western world. It is to the county of Middlesex that the tribes of our American Israel come up to keep holy time. The Mecca and Medina of the advent of freedom are within her borders. Lexington, whose echoes answered to the signal-gun that broke the centennial slumbers of thz genius of revolution, to sleep no more till he has trampled 34 SPECIMENS OF on the fetters of the last slave, and wrapped in consuming flames the last throne ; to overturn, and overturn, and overturn, until he shall make an end : — Concord, that saw the insulting foe driven back in dire confusion before the children of liberty, as the cloud squadrons of some threatening thunder-storm melt and disperse when the full-orbed sun bursts through and overpowers them ; — Acton, whose Spartan band of minute-men withstood the onset and returned the fire of the minions of the tyrant ; whose gallant Davis poured out his soul freely in his country's cause, at the moment when the tide of foreign aggression ebbed, at the moment when the beginning of the onward movement of his country's lib- erty, independence, greatness and glory, by his judgment, prompt- ness and valor, was secured ; — Charlestown, the smoke of whose sacrifice mingled with the roar of the murderous artillery, while a holocaust of victims and the apotheosis of Warren consecrated her mount as the thrice holy spot of all New England's hallowed soil ; — Cambridge, the head-quarters of the hero, after whom the age of transition from monarchies to republics will be called the age of Washington ; — in these, her towns, are the several peculiar shrines of the worship of constitutional liberty that have made the American continent not barren of historical mouumental scenes. Where else, in the circuit of the revolving globe, does the sun look on such a clustered group of glories ? Over how broad a portion of the world have we'extended the advantages we ourselves enjoy ! Our domain unites the noblest valley on the surface of the globe, competent to grow food for human beings many more than now dwell on the face of the earth, with an eastern wing fitted for the site of the principal manufac- turing and commercial power of existing Christendom, and a western flank well situated to held the same position on the Pacific, when Asia shall renew her youth, and Australia shall have risen to the level of Europe. Bewildering, almost, is the suddenness of our expansion to fill these limits, and astounding are the phenomena that, accompany this development. This day there stands before the councils of the nation, deputed to participate in their deliberations, a young man born within sight of old Concord Bridge, and educated AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 3o under the institutions which Concord fight secured, who, when he revisits the old homestead, claims to represent a territory larger than France and the United British kingdom, — capable of con- taining, if settled to the present density of Great Britain, more than a hundred millions of souls, — a territory lately the joint inheritance of the Indian and the grisly bear, now outstripping, in its instant greatness, all recorded colonies, — the Ophir of our age, richer than Solomon's, richer than the wildest vision that ever dazzled Arabian fancy. Occupying such a continent, receiving it consecrated by the toils and sufferings and outpouring of ancestral blood, which on the day we now commemorate began, how delightful is the duty which devolves on us, to guard the beacon-fire of liberty, whose flames our fathers kindled ! Suffer it not, my friends ! suffer it not, pos- terity that shall come after us ! to be clouded by domestic dissen- sion, or obscured by the dank, mephitic vapors *of faction ! Until now, its pure irradiance dispels doubt and fear, and revivifies the fainting hopes of downcast patriotism. Forever may it shine brightly as now ; for as yet its pristine lustre fades not, but still flasnes out the ancient, clear, and steady illumination, joy-giving as the blaze that, leaping from promontory to promontory, told the triumph of Agamemnon over fated Troy ! It towers and glows, refulgent and beautiful, far-seen by the tempest-tost on the sea of revolution, darting into the dungeons of gaunt despair beams whose benignant glory no lapse of time shall dim ; the wanderers in the chill darkness of slavery it guides, and cheers, and warms ; it fills the universe with its splendor. THE UNIOX. — H. Clay. I do not desire to see the lustre of one single star dimmed of that glorious confederacy which constitutes our political sun ; still less do I wish to see it blotted out, and its light obliterated forever. Has not the State of South Carolina been one of the members of this Union in " days that tried men's souls " ? Have not her ances- 36 SPECIMENS OF tors fought alongside our ancestors ? Have we not, conjointly, won together many a glorious battle ? If we had to £0 into a civil war with such a state, how would it terminate ? Whenever it should have terminated, what would be her condition ? If she should «ver return to the Union, what would be the condition of her feelings and affections ? what the state of the heart of her people ? She has been with us before, when our ancestors mingled in the throng of battle ; and, as I hope our posterity will mingle with hers, for ages and centuries to come, in the united defence of liberty, and for the honor and glory of the Union, I do not wish to see her degraded or defaced as a member of this confederacy. In conclusion, allow me to entreat and implore each individual member of this body to bring into the consideration of this measure, which I have had the honor of proposing, the same love of country which, if I know myself, has actuated me, and the same desire of restoring harmony to the Union which has prompted this effort. If we can forget for a moment, — but that would be asking too much of human nature, — if we could suppress, for one moment, party feelings and party causes, — and, as I stand here before my God, I declare I have looked beyond these considerations, and regarded only the vast interests of this united people, — I should hope that, under such feelings, and with such dispositions, we may advantageously proceed to the consideration of this bill, and heal, before they are yet bleeding, the wounds of our distracted country. FREE DISCUSSION. — T. Burgess. Sir, admit — for we must admit — that free discussion has ever been odious to the tyrant, and to all the minions of licentious power, — but can we ever forget how eloquent, how enchanting, the voice of that same freedom of speech has in all ages been, wherever its tones have fallen on the ear of freemen ? Free discussion, and liberty itself, eloquence and freedom of speech, are contemporaneous fires, and brighten and blaze, or lan- guish and go out, together. Athenian liberty was, for years, pro- AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 37 tracted by that free discussion which was sustained and continued in Athens. Freedom was prolonged by eloquence. Liberty paused and lingered, that she might listen to the divine intonations of her voice. Free discussion, the eloquence of one man, rolled back the tide of Macedonian power, and long preserved his country from the overwhelming deluge. When the light of free discussion Jaad, throughout all the Grecian cities, been extinguished in the blood of those statesmen by whose eloquence it had been sustained, young Tully, breathing the spirit of Roman liberty on the expiring embers, relumed and transmitted, from the banks of the Ilissus to those of the Tiber, this glorious light of freedom. This mighty master of the forum, by his free discussions, both from the rostrum and in the senate-house, gave new vigor, and a longer duration of existence, to the liberty of his country. Who, more than Marcus Tullius Cicero, was loved and cherished by the friends of that country ? Who more feared and hated by traitors and tyrants ? Freedom of speech, Roman eloquence, and Roman liberty, expired together, when, under the proscription of the second tri- umvirate, the hired bravo of Mark Antony placed in the lap of one of his profligate minions the head and the hands of Tully, the states- man, the orator, the illustrious father of his country. After amus- ing herself some hours by plunging her bodkin through that tongue which had so long delighted the senate and the rostrum, and made Antony himself tremble in the midst of his legions, she ordered that head and those hands, then the trophies of a savage despotism, to be sat up in the forum. " Her last good man dejected Rome adored ; Wept for her patriot slain, and cursed the tyrant's sword." English statesmen and orators, in the free discussions of the Eng- lish Parliament, have been formed on those illustrious models of Greek and Roman policy and eloquence. Multiplied by the teem- ing labors of the press, the works of the master and the disciple have come to our hands; and the eloquence of Chatham, of Burke, of Fox, and of the younger Pitt, reaches us, not in the feeble and 4 38 SPECIMENS OF evanescent -voice of tradition, but preserved and placed before the eye on the more imperishable page. Neither these great originals nor their improved transcripts have been lost to our country. The American political school of free discussion has enriched the nation with some distinguished scholars ; and Dexter, and Morris, and Pinkney, will not soon be forgotten by our country, or by the literary world. Some men who now live may hereafter be found deserving of that life, in the memory of posterity, which very great men have thought no unworthy object of a glorious ambition. "Who can censure this anxious wish to live in human memory ? "When we feel ourselves borne along the current of time, — when we see our- selves hourly approach that cloud, impenetrable to the human eye, which terminates the last visible portion of this moving estuary, — who of us, although he may hope, when he reaches it, to shoot through that dark barren into a more bright and peacefid region, yet who, I say, can feel himself receding swiftly from the eye of all human sympathy, leaving the vision of all human monuments, and not wish, as he passes by, to place on those monuments some little memorial of himself, — some volume of a book, — or, perhaps, but a single page, that it may be remembered, "When we are not, that we have been "? Sir, these models of ancient and modern policy and eloquence, formed in the great schools of free discussion, both in earlier and later time, are in the hands of thousands of those youths who are now, in all the parts of our country, forming themselves for the public service. This hall is the bright goal of their generous, v patriotic, and glorious ambition. Sir, they look hither with a feeling not unlike that devotion felt by the pilgrim as he looks towards some venerated shrine. Do not — I implore you, sir, do not — by your decision this day abolish the rites of liberty, conse- crated in this place ! Extinguish not these fires on her altar, which should here be eternal ! Suffer-not, suffer not the rude hand of this more than Vandal violence to demolish, " from turret to foundation-stone," this last sanctuary of freedom ! AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 39 THE RIGHT TO DISCUSS PRESIDENTIAL ACTS. — W. C. Preston. Tiie gentleman has referred to the contest to be fought between liberty and power ; and I say, that if the contest did not originate here, it is made when we are not permitted to speak of the admin- istration in terms that we believe to be true, without being denounced for it. The President of the United States certainly demands a degree of forbearance from his political opponents ; but am I to be told that one can only allude to him in the humble language of a degraded Romau senate, speaking of the emperor with his Prtetorian guards surrounding the capitol ? Am I to be told, when he came into power on principles of reform, after " keep- ing the word of promise to our ear, and breaking it to our hope," — am I to be told that I must close my lips, or be denounced for want of decorum ? Am I to be told, when he promised to prevent official influence from interfering with the freedom of elections, that I must not speak of the broken promise, under pain of the displeasure of his friends ? Am I to be told, when he came into power as a judicious tariff man, after advocating his principles and aiding in his election. — believing at the time in his integrity, though I did not believe him possessed of intellectual qualifica- tions, — am I to be told, after pledges that have been violated, promises that have been broken, and principles that have been set at naught, that I must not speak of these things as they are, for fear of being denounced for want of courtesy to the constituted authorities ? Why, to what pass are we come ! Are we to be gagged — reduced to silence ? If nothing else is left to us, the lib- erty of speech is left ; and it is our duty to cry aloud and spare not, when the undenied, admitted, and declared fact before us is, that these pledges have been made, and have been violated. This administration is about to end; and if gentlemen can succeed in pre- venting us from complaining of being deceived, if they can reduce us to abject slavery, they will also have to expunge the history of the country, the president's written and recorded communications to Congress, and the most ardent professions of his friends, when fighting his battles, before they can conceal the recorded fact, that 40 SPECIMENS OF he has made pledges which he has violated, and promises which he has repeatedly broken. If they succeed in reducing us to slavery, and closing our lips against speaking of the abuses of this adminis- tration, thank God ! the voice of history, trumpet-tongued, will proclaim these pledges, and the manner in which they have been violated, to future generations ! Neither here nor elsewhere will I use language, with regard to any gentleman, that may be considered indecorous ; and the ques- tion not easily solved is, how far shall we restrain ourselves in expressing a just and necessary indignation ; and whether the expression of such indignation may be considered a departure from courtesy. That indignation, that reprobation, I shall express on all occasions. But those who have taken upon themselves the guardianship of the Grand Lama, who is surrounded by a light which no one can approach, — about whom no one is permitted to speak without censure, — have extended that guardianship to the presiding officer of this house. Gentlemen are not permitted to speak of the qualifications of that officer for the highest office in the government. Shall we, sir, because he is here as presiding officer of this body, keep silent when he is urged upon tlie people, who are goaded and driven to his support, lest we be guilty of an indecorum against those who are the constituted authorities of the country ? Thank God, it is not my practice to " crook the pliant hinges of the knee, that thrift may follow fawning ! " This aggression of power upon our liberties, sir, and this tame submission to aggression, forebode evil to this nation. " Coming events cast their shadows before them," deepening and darkening ; and, as the sun sets, the shadows lengthen. It may be the going down of the great luminary of the republic, and that we all shall be enveloped in one universal political darkness ! BURNING OF THE LEXINGTON. — E. H. Ckapin. Great calamities, though they may startle and appal at first live but a brief time in the memory of the multitude. There is a. AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 41 vivid flash, a momentary shock, when the noisy world shrinks back and is silent ; — and then the vast and busy machinery goes on again, the sentiment of horror is absorbed in the rash of jarring interests and active life, and the event is apparently forgotten ; while the hearts that are peculiarly torn and smitten are left to bleed alone, and to heal up slowly in the obscurity of private grief and retirement. But in this instance the cold thrill .that ran through every soul upon hearing the " evil tidings " has not yet ceased to vibrate even in the great mass of community at large. The exclamations of surprise and horror which follow the dreadful announcement are yet pealing upon our ears from remote portions of the land. The waters that yawned to receive the wasted treas- ures, the charred and broken timbers, and the bodies of the drowned, have not yet become quiet and sealed above their awful sepulchres. Still, day after day, disconsolate Love and sorrowing Friendship are called to the sea-shore or the house of the dead, to recognize some lithe and perhaps mangled form, that has been given up and rescued from the deep. Still, ever and anon, some portion of sunken treasure, some relic that was lost with the departed, is plucked all dripping from the bosom of the element, to touch the chord of painful association, and tear the wounds of affection afresh. Still, the anxious wife, or child, or parent, at the hearth of home, and the distant traveller upon the heaving billows, shudder with apprehension and are cold at the heart, as their thought goes back to that scene of death and terror which surrounded the doomed and burning Lexington. A vessel plying upon the route between two of the most import- ant cities of our country, filled with a multitude of human beings, in sight of a populous shore, in an early hour of the evening, is suddenly enwrapped in flames, — surrounded by the darkness of the night, the inclement winter air, and a waste of cold and icy waters ; leaving to its wretched inmates, in almost every instance, nothing but the dreadful alternative of death by the consuming flame or by the freezing flood. The alarm-cry bursts from lip to lip of that startled throng, smiting awfully and solemnly upon each heart, like the tone of its own deep death-knell. Imagination 4* 42 SPECIMENS OF cannot picture, or conceive, the dread reality. In what various moods of thought, in what different occupations, were they engaged ! They had left, but a little while ago, the thronged and busy city, thro . gh whose streets, filled with light and life, and presenting all the diversities of a mimic world, the}'- had so lately passed ; and they were now, calmly as if under the roof of their own dwellings, borne on with all the speed of mighty engines towards other thoroughfares of life and action and joy, where they might mingle among men. Some had grasped warm hands and pressed warm hearts at parting, and bidden a gay or sad, but, as they thought, a brief farewell. Some had left the couch of the sick friend, hurried forth by the urgency of business, with the promise and the thought speedily to return. Some had parted with the traveller's haste, who had already passed over a long and wearisome route, and were looking forward with eager expectation to the welcome of their near and waiting homes. Some had come forth with the gladness and buoyancy of hope, with the strong purpose of gain, with the joyful anticipation of meeting dear and familiar faces. Some had decided to come upon a halting resolution, — ! why did they thus decide ? Some were far from their homes, and were numbering the days that should bear them back. Some — but we will not pause to enumerate the various circumstances under which the members of that group had set out, and that preceded their solemn end. Suf- fice it to say, that life and hope, and memories of loved ones, and innumerable thoughts and sympathies and feelings, were stirring in the hearts of the mass of beings that were so soon to go down, amid the chilliness of winter and the flaming shroud of the confla- gration, to the cold and unknown chambers of the deep ! What a hurried rush for safety and for life was there ! What piercing shrieks, bursting from ashy and quivering lips, rose above the hoarse gurgling of the waters, the roar and crackling of the flames, and rent the flushed and heated brow of night ! What frantic cries of the husband for the wife, the wife for the husband, — the mother clutching wildly for her child, the child sobbing for its mother ! What strivings of agony with the hot breath of the flame and the suffocating smoke ; what moanings of the helpless, AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 43 the trampled, and the crushed ! What invocations for aid, shrieked into the ears of mortals as impotent ! What fervent prayers, ris- ing through the tumult and storm of the elements to the eternal throne ! But still the fierce flame swept relentlessly on, and the waters chafed and shouted for their prey ! The strong, brave man, perchance, was there, who had toiled in sun and storm, and faced the billows and the wind, and travelled by land and by sea. And with a desperate struggle did he meet his death, grappling and striving with the overwhelming and terrific powers around him, as though they were living and conquerable things. As he saw behind him, in the fiery jaws of one element, certain destruction, with giant energy did he put by the dense and muffling smoke, and plunged with nerved limbs and dauntless heart into the cold arms of the other. And long did he battle with the waves, and shout and gurgle and shriek and madly toss the icy waters to and fro ; and then, benumbed and dead, he went down, down, and all was still, — save a hoarse moaning of the deep, above his burial-place ! Beauty, perhaps, was there, in the bloom of youth and health. But when the alarm-cry came, white was that cheek with a pale- ness that was the seal of death, and horror glared wildly in those beaming eyes, and around her frail and delicate form swept the blast of the wreathing flame. That white hand was lifted for a moment above the ridgy billows, one stifled cry was heard — and she was gone ! And now the gentle sunlight lingers and the sor- rowful winds lament above her bed ; but no flowers shall bloom and no tear be shed upon that spot beneath which, with calm brow, she sleeps, in some rocky and garnished chamber, "Deep in the silent waters, A thousand fathoms low." The esteemed and talented one was there. He who had studied, with the love of the scholar, the sober reaso/i of philosophy, and the earnest faith of religion, — whose lips had poured forth the w r ords of instruction and of genius, and whose voice had been heard in the blessed ministrations of the gospel, — was called upon thus to die, — 44 SPECIMENS OF to die suddenly and amid a scene of horror, — to die while on his way to fulfil a duty of his sabred station, — to die far away from the graves of his fathers and from his native land, and even frem the tombs of those dear to him in the home of his adoption, — and, ! to die away from the arms of that devoted wife, who sorrowed for his absence, and waited with yearning fondness for his return But he died leaving fresh, green memories in the hearts of those who knew him, and a good name in the world ; and, better than all, he died with his armor on, as a soldier of the cross. He passed away amid the strife of the physical elements and the sufferings of keenest bodily anguish ; but we may believe that soul that had imbibed the principles of Jesus was calm and triumphant amid it all, and supported and brightened with the undying hope of the Christian. Maternal affection was there, deep, firm and true, to the last. Doubtless she struggled long for the boon of life ; not only for her- self, — ! not only for herself! — but for that dear babe. But when death came to relieve the little suffering child, and she gazed upon its pale brow and saw that it was dead, — when she felt the coldness gathering closer about her own yearning heart, and her eyes grow- ing dim, — still, still was she true to the unconquerable impulse of a mother's love ; and she tore her veil from off her, and cast it about the face of that sleeping one, that the winds and the waves and the ice might not treat it roughly, and that, when they should find its little corse, it might be all as unmarred and natural as if it had been borne in its mother's arms, and laid in the calmness and beauty of its stony slumber at their feet ! And then life fluttered and went out in that true heart, and she sunk to her unknown grave ! And so, in various modes, and under circumstances marked by various degrees of horror, the young, the old, the rich, the poor, the talented, the weak, the strong, — tender woman and haughty manhood, the budding youth and the helpless child, — so they were swept away, upon that night, and devoured by the elements ; with will struggle and terrible agonies of death, with the flames AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 45 hissing behind them and the waters yawning before, they passed from existence, a fearful nn.ss of human life, " Unknellcd, uncoffined, and unknown ' " ! what, think you, were the thoughts of that dark and terrific death-hour ? The reflections and memories of a life breaking at once upon the throbbing brain, more painful, more torturing, than the flame or flood that was devouring their shrinking bodies ! The cold and freezing truth rushing over the heart, that they must die — and die thus ! The remembrance of loved ones, of eyes that would flow with weeping for thein, of homes that would be deso- late, of those that would be left destitute, of forms and faces to be seen in this world no more ! And then, the many and varied thoughts that surround the idea of death, — the things of religion, the concerns of the soul, — all these breaking in, in one flood, thrilling every artery of the body, and every faculty of the mind ! ! who shall attempt to describe that crisis ? They were human. They felt as human beings must ever feel, borne at one sweep from this mortal existence, hurried from the relations of this life, sud- denly, violently, and forever ! ! the homes and the hearts that were left desolate that night ! ! the peculiar nature of that grief, that flowed in upon the mourner's spirit as coldly as the waters flowed over their lost, their ocean-buried dead ! There were children gathered around their mother's knees in a distant home that night, and, perchance, they looked up into her gentle face, and caught from it the beaming smile of joy that accompanied the announcement that their father was on his way to greet them ! Alas ! the dark sea lay between him and them ; and little did they think, when they opened their eyes to hail with gladness another day, that, they thought, brought him nearer to them, — little did they think that the husband, the father, rested cold and still beneath that s^a, and that the hours flew on to bring them the tidings that he was lost ! Love lit its watch-fire upon that sad night. It looked out, peer- ing through the darkness almost in sight of the burning wreck, for 46 SPECIMENS OF the well-known form, so endeared to it by the strongest of earthly bonds. But that form came not. It had passed away from life forever. The bridal altar would never be lighted for him. The true glance of affection should beam upon him no more. His voice of love would never greet the ear, — it went out in a lone, wild shriek upon the night air ! The heart that beat for him in anxious expectation would never press his heart ; — the dashing waves had gone over it, and it was cold and still ! A splendid mansion waited for its owner. Its hall, perchance, was lighted, and its doors left ajar ; and there were those who listened to catch the echoes of his well-known step. But that mansion received him, living, no more. That midnight lamp might burn on until the dawn, but he would not return. Those doors should open to his touch never again. Those anxious watchers listened in vain for his tread. ! sad, sad were the tidings that broke upon their ears, instead of the sound of that well-known step ! Dark, dark was that hearth, from which his familiar face was absent — absent to greet them there no more ! FORMATION OF CHARACTER. — W. Wirt. The man who is so conscious of the rectitude of his intentions as to be willing to open his bosom to the inspection of the world is in possession of one of the strongest pillars of a decided character. The course of such a man will be firm and steady, because he has nothing to fear from the world, and is sure of the approbation and support of Heaven. While he who is conscious of secret and dark designs, which, if known, would blast him, is perpetually shrinking and dodging from public observation, and is afraid of all around, find much more of all above him. Such a man may, indeed, pursue his iniquitous plans, steadily, — he may waste himself to a skeleton in the guilty pursuit, — but it is impossible that he can pursue them with the same health-inspir- ing confidence, and exulting alacrity, with him who feels, at every step, that he is in pursuit of honest ends, by honest means. AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 47 The clear, unclouded brow, the open countenance, the brilliant eye, which can look an honest man steadfastly, yet courteously, in the face, the healthfully-beating heart, and the firm, elastic step, belong to him whose bosom is free from guile, and who knows that all his motives and purposes are pure and right. Why should such a man falter in his course ? He may be slandered ; he may be deserted by the world ; but he has that within which will keep him erect, and enable him to move onward in his course with his eyes fixed on Heaven, which he knows will not desert him. Let your first step, then, in that discipline which is to give you decision of character, be the heroic determination to be honest men, and to preserve this character through every vicissitude of fortune, and in every relation which connects you with society. I do not use this phrase, " honest men," in the narrow sense, merely, of meeting your pecuniary engagements, and paying your debts ; for this the common pride of gentlemen will constrain you to do. I use it in its larger sense of discharging all your duties, both public and private, both open and secret, with the most scrupulous, Heaven-attesting integrity; in that sense, further, which drives from the bosom all little, dark, crooked, sordid, debasing consider- ations of self, and substitutes in their place a bolder, loftier, and nobler spirit. — one that will dispose you to consider yourselves as born, not so much for yourselves as for your country and your fel- low-creatures, and which will lead you to act on every occasion sincerely, justly, generously, magnanimously. There is a morality on a larger scale, perfectly consistent with a just attention to your own affairs, which it would be the height of folly to neglect, — a generous expansion, a proud elevation and conscious greatness of character, which is the best preparation for a decided course, in every situation into which you can be thrown ; and it is to this high and noble tone of character that I would have you to aspire. I would not have you to resemble those weak and meagre stream- let^ which lose their direction at every petty impediment that presents itself, and stop, and turn back, and creep around, and search out every little channel through which they may wind their 43 SPECIMENS OF feeble and sickly course. Nor yet would I have you to resemble the headlong torrent, that carries havoc in its mad career. But I would have you like the ocean, that noblest emblem of majestic decision, which, in the calmest hour, still heaves its resistless might of waters to the shore, filling the heavens, day and night, with the echoes of its sublime declaration of independence, and tossing and sporting on its bed, with an imperial consciousness of strength that laughs at opposition. It is this depth, and weight, and power, and purity of character, that I would have you to resemble ; and I would have you, like the waters of the ocean, to become the purer by your own action. THE DECLARATION OP INDEPENDENCE. — J. Q. Adams. The interest which, in that paper, has survived the occasion upon which it was issued, — the interest which is of every age and every clime, — the interest which quickens with the lapse of years, spreads as it grows old, and brightens as it recedes, — is in the principles which it proclaims. It was the first solemn declaration by a nation of the only legitimate foundation of civil government. It was the corner-stone of a new fabric, destined to cover the sur- face of the globe. It demolished, at- a stroke, the lawfulness of all governments founded upon conquest. It swept away all the rub- bish of accumulated centuries of servitude. It announced, in prac- tical form, to the world, the transcendent truth of the inalienable sovereignty of the people. It proved that the social compact was no figment of the imagination, but a real, solid and sacred bond of the social union. From the day of this declaration, the people of North America were no longer the fragment of a distant empire, imploring justice and mercy from an inexorable master, in another hemisphere. They were no longer children, appealing in vain to the sympathies of a heartless mother ; no longer subjects, leaning upon the shattered columns of royal promises, and invoking the fiiith of parchment to secure their rights. They were a nation, asserting as of right, and maintaining by war, its own existence. A nation was born in a day. AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. " How many ages hence Shall this, their lofty scene, be acted o'er, In states unborn, and accents yet unknown 1 " It will be acted o'er, fellow-citizens, but it can never be repeated. It stands, and must forever stand, alone ; a beacon on the summit of the mountain, to which all the inhabitants of the earth may turn their eyes, for a genial and saving light, till time shall be lost in eternity, and this globe itself dissolve, nor leave a wreck behind. It stands forever, a light of admonition to the rulers of men, a light of salvation and redemption to the oppressed. So long as this planet shall be inhabited by human beings, so long as man shall be of a social nature, so long as government shall be necessary to the great moral purposes of society, so long as it shall be abused to the purposes of oppression, — so long shall this declaration hold out, to the sovereign and to the subject, the extent and the bound- aries of their respective rights and duties, founded in the laws of nature and of nature's God. KOSSUTH'S WELCOME TO BUXKER HILL. — R. Frothingham, Jr. "We stand on America's classic ground. The waters that flow beneath us, and every hill-top and valley that spread out in a beautiful amphitheatre around us, have their story of the men who perilled and suffered for the cause of freedom. Here was fought the first great battle of the war of the Revolution ; there, near the shades of our venerable Harvard, Washington stood when he first drew his sword in that great struggle ; on yonder summit, when our old thirteen colonies had united to form our early country, the Union flag of the thirteen stripes was first unfurled to the battle and the breeze ; and it was over our proud metropolis that this flag, for the first time, waved in triumph behind a retreating foe. Welcome, great patriot, to these enkindling associations ! Your noble nature, your fidelity to principle, your labors, triumphs, perils and sufferings, in your country, and your continued and untiring devotion, in exile, to the cause of your father-land, pro- 5 50 SPECIMENS OF claim you to be of kindred spirit with the immortal men whose heroism, in a day of baptism of fire and blood, hallowed this soil forever to the lovers of liberty ! Welcome, illustrious exile, to the sacred inspiration, to the awakening power, of this consecrated spot ! And as, to bid you welcome, we come forth from our happy homes, from our schools of learning and our altars of religion, from the shops of a thriving industry and the marts of a prosperous commerce, it is in the full enjoyment of the fruits of political free- dom, the quickening power of the principle of liberty animating all into its varied life. Would it were thus with brave and unfor- tunate Hungary ! How can be expressed what here was felt at those occurrences that deprived your people of their rights, and made you an exile from home and country ! We know the story of your eventful struggle. We see exhibited in it the traits of love of freedom, of chivalrous heroism, of undying attachment to ancient rights and liberties, of noble self-sacrifice, that marked our own great contest. We saw you, animated by the glorious ante- cedent of a thousand years' enjoyment of municipal institutions, gallantly carve your way, with your own good swords, to national independence, and thereby acquire the right of ordaining your own institutions. But then came the foreign interference with your internal affairs, when your territory was invaded and your inde- pendence was destroyed by the armies of the Czar. An indignant American public opinion must ever pronounce that interference to have been an enormous violation of national law ; and also pro- nounce that each nation has a right to make or to unmake its government, free from interference by any foreign power. Honored -sir, I feel how inadequate are my poor words to serve such an occasion as to welcome the representative man of the cause of liberty in the Old World, on the soil where that cause in tho New World first met the shock of regular conflict. Fortunately, the want is supplied. "The powerful speaker stands motionless before us." This majestic column was solemnly dedicated " to the spirit of national independence." Its speech to-day is of welcome and encouragement to the illustrious exile whose life is devoted to this noble cause ! AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 51 LASTING OF THE CORNER-STONE OF BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. — D. Webster. We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important that they might crowd and distinguish centuries are, in our times, compressed within the compass of a single life. When has it happened that history has had so much to record, in the same term of years, as since the 17th of June, 1775 ? Our own Revolution, which, under other circumstances, might itself have been expected to occasion a war of half a century, has been achieved ; twenty-four sovereign and independent states erected, and a gen- eral government established over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its establishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it not far the greater wonder that it should have been established at all. Two or three millions of people have been augmented to twelve ; and the great forests of the west prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry ; and the dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi become the fellow-citizens and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New England. We have a commerce that leaves no sea unex- plored ; navies which take no law from superior force ; revenues adequate to all the exigencies of the government, almost without taxation ; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights and mutual respect. Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty revolution, which, while it has been felt iu the individual condition and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the centre her political fabric, and dashed against one another thrones which had stood tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example has been followed ; and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free government have reached us from beyond the track of the sun ; and at this moment the dominion of European power in this continent, from the place where we stand to the south pole, is annihilated forever. In the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been the general progress of knowledge, such the improvements in legis- 52 SPECIMENS OP lation, in commerce, in the arts, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas, and the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems changed. Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things which have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we are but fifty years removed from it ; and we now stand here, to enjoy all the blessings of our own condition, and to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the world, while we hold still among us some of those who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New Eng- land, to visit once more, and under circumstances so affecting, I had almost said so overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patriotism. Venerable men ! you have come down to us from a former gen- eration. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neigh- bors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife of your country. Behold how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over your heads, the same ocean rolls at your feet, — but all else how changed ! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon ; you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead and the dying, — the impetuous charge, — the steady and successful repulse, — the loud call to repeated assault, — the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance, — a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to what- ever of terror there may be in war and death ; — all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population come out to welcome and greet you with a uni- versal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appro- priately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 53 own means of distinction and defence. All is peace ; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness ere you slumber in the grave forever. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils ; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you ! But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the sword have thinned your ranks ! Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! — our eyes seek for you in vain amidst this broken band ! You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance, and your own bright example ! But let us not too much grieve that you have met the common fate of men. You lived, at least, long enough to know that your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see your country's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the light of liberty you saw arise the light of peace, like ,e another morn Risen on mid-noon ; — " and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless. But — ah ! — him ! the first great martyr in this great cause ! Him ! the premature victim of his own self-devoting heart ! Him ! the head of our civil councils, and the destined leader of our mili- tary bands ; whom nothing brought hither, but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit ! Him ! cut off by Providence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise ; pouring out his generous blood, like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage ! — how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name ! Our poor work may perish ; but thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away, — the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea ; but thy memory shall not fail ! Wheresoever among men a heart shall bo found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit ' 5* 54 SPECIMENS 02 But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to con- fine our thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy repre- sentation of the survivors of the whole Revolutionary army. Veterans ! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. Veterans of half a century ! when, in your youthful days, you put everything at hazard in your country's cause, good as that cause was, and san- guine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an hour like this ! At a period to which you could not reason- ably have expected to arrive, at a moment of national prosperity such as you could never have foreseen, you are now met here to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive the overflowings of a universal gratitude. But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons of the living, throng to your embraces. The scene overwhelms you, and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, and bless them ! And, when you shall here have exchanged your embraces, — when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, — then look abroad into this lovely land, which your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled ; yea, look abroad into the whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved con- dition of mankind ! It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that while, in the fulness of our country's happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for instruction, in our undertaking, to a country which is now in fearful contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 55 for her own existence. Let her be assured that she is not forgotten in the wor!d ; that her efforts are applauded, and that constant prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a confident hope for her final triumph. If the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kindled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central fire, it may be smoth- ered for a time, the ocean may overwhelm it, mountains may press it down, — but its inherent and unconquerable force will heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or another, in some place or another, the volcano will break out, and flame up to heaven ! THE DISINTERESTEDNESS OF "WASHINGTON. — R. T. Paine. To the pen of the historian must be resigned the more arduous and elaborate tribute of justice to those efforts of heroic and polit- ical virtue which conducted the American people to peace and liberty. The vanquished foe retired from our shores, and left to