But all these things aside, no one sitting at these tables has higher

admiration for the Pilgrim Fathers than I have--the men who believed in

two great doctrines, which are the foundation of every religion that is

worth anything: namely, the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of

Man--these men of backbone and endowed with that great and magnificent

attribute of stick-to-it-iveness. Macaulay said that no one ever sneered

at the Puritans who had met them in halls of debate or crossed swords

with them on the field of battle. They are sometimes defamed for their

rigorous Sabbaths, but our danger is in the opposite direction of no

Sabbaths at all. It is said that they destroyed witches. I wish that

they had cleared them all out, for all the world is full of witches yet,

and if at all these tables there is a man who has not sometimes been

bewitched, let him hold up his glass of ice-water. It is said that these

Forefathers carried religion into everything, and before a man kissed

his wife he asked a blessing, and afterward said: "Having received

another favor from the Lord, let us return thanks." But our great need

now is more religion in every-day life.

Still, take it all in all, I think the descendants of the Pilgrim

Fathers are as good as their ancestors, and in many ways better.

Children are apt to be an echo of their ancestors. We are apt to put a

halo around the Forefathers, but I suspect that at our age they were

very much like ourselves. People are not wise when they long for the

good old days.

But though your Forefathers may not have been much, if any, better than

yourselves, let us extol them for the fact that they started this

country in the right direction. They laid the foundation for American

manhood. The foundation must be more solid and firm and unyielding than

any other part of the structure. On that Puritanic foundation we can

safely build all nationalities. Let us remember that the coming American

is to be an admixture of all foreign bloods. In about twenty-five or

fifty years the model American will step forth. He will have the strong

brain of the German, the polished manners of the French, the artistic

taste of the Italian, the stanch heart of the English, the steadfast

piety of the Scotch, the lightning wit of the Irish, and when he steps

forth, bone, muscle, nerve, brain entwined with the fibers of all

nationalities, the nations will break out in the cry: "Behold the

American!"

I never realized what this country was and is as on the day when I first

saw some of these gentlemen of the Army and Navy. It was when at the

close of the War our armies came back and marched in review before the

president's stand at Washington. I do not care whether a man was a

Republican or a Democrat, a Northern man or a Southern man, if he had

any emotion of nature, he could not look upon it without weeping. God

knew that the day was stupendous, and He cleared the heaven of cloud and

mist and chill, and sprung the blue sky as the triumphal arch for the

returning warriors to pass under. From Arlington Heights the spring

foliage shook out its welcome, as the hosts came over the hills, and the

sparkling waters of the Potomac tossed their gold to the feet of the

battalions as they came to the Long Bridge and in almost interminable

line passed over. The capitol never seemed so majestic as that morning:

snowy white, looking down upon the tides of men that came surging down,

billow after billow. Passing in silence, yet I heard in every step the

thunder of conflicts through which they had waded, and seemed to see

dripping from their smoke-blackened flags the blood of our country's

martyrs. For the best part of two days we stood and watched the filing

on of what seemed endless battalions, brigade after brigade, division

after division, host after host, rank beyond rank; ever moving, ever

passing; marching, marching; tramp, tramp, tramp--thousands after

thousands, battery front, arms shouldered, columns solid, shoulder to

shoulder, wheel to wheel, charger to charger, nostril to nostril.

Commanders on horses with their manes entwined with roses, and necks

enchained with garlands, fractious at the shouts that ran along the

line, increasing from the clapping of children clothed in white,

standing on the steps of the capitol, to the tumultuous vociferation of

hundreds of thousands of enraptured multitudes, crying "Huzza! Huzza!"

Gleaming muskets, thundering parks of artillery, rumbling pontoon

wagons, ambulances from whose wheels seemed to sound out the groans of

the crushed and the dying that they had carried. These men came from

balmy Minnesota, those from Illinois prairies. These were often hummed

to sleep by the pines of Oregon, those were New England lumbermen. Those

came out of the coal-shafts of Pennsylvania. Side by side in one great

cause, consecrated through fire and storm and darkness, brothers in

peril, on their way home from Chancellorsville and Kenesaw Mountain and

Fredericksburg, in lines that seemed infinite they passed on.

We gazed and wept and wondered, lifting up our heads to see if the end

had come, but no! Looking from one end of that long avenue to the other,

we saw them yet in solid column, battery front, host beyond host, wheel

to wheel, charger to charger, nostril to nostril, coming as it were from

under the capitol. Forward! Forward! Their bayonets, caught in the sun,

glimmered and flashed and blazed, till they seemed like one long river

of silver, ever and anon changed into a river of fire. No end to the

procession, no rest for the eyes. We turned our heads from the scene,

unable longer to look. We felt disposed to stop our ears, but still we

heard it, marching, marching; tramp, tramp, tramp. But hush--uncover

every head! Here they pass, the remnant of ten men of a full regiment.

Silence! Widowhood and orphanage look on and wring their hands. But

wheel into line, all ye people! North, South, East, West--all decades,

all centuries, all millenniums! Forward, the whole line! Huzza! Huzza!

THE HOLLANDER AS AN AMERICAN

Speech of Theodore Roosevelt at the eleventh annual dinner of the

Holland Society of New York, January 15, 1896.

MR. PRESIDENT, GENTLEMEN, AND BRETHREN OF THE HOLLAND SOCIETY:--I am

more than touched, if you will permit me to begin rather seriously, by

the way you have greeted me to-night. When I was in Washington, there

was a story in reference to a certain president, who was not popular

with some of his own people in a particular western state. One of its

senators went to the White House and said he wanted a friend of his

appointed postmaster of Topeka. The president's private secretary said,

"I am very sorry, indeed, sir, but the president wants to appoint a

personal friend." Thereupon the senator said: "Well, for God's sake, if

he has one friend in Kansas, let him appoint him!"

There have been periods during which the dissembled eulogies of the able

press and my relations with about every politician of every party and

every faction have made me feel I would like to know whether I had one

friend in New York, and here I feel I have many. And more than that,

gentlemen, I should think ill of myself and think that I was a discredit

to the stock from which I sprang if I feared to go on along the path

that I deemed right, whether I had few friends or many.

I am glad to answer to the toast, "The Hollander as an American." The

Hollander was a good American, because the Hollander was fitted to be a

good citizen. There are two branches of government which must be kept on

a high plane, if any nation is to be great. A nation must have laws that

are honestly and fearlessly administered, and it must be ready, in time

of need, to fight; and we men of Dutch descent have here to-night these

gentlemen of the same blood as ourselves who represent New York so

worthily on the bench, and a major-general of the army of the United

States.

It seems to me, at times, that the Dutch in America have one or two

lessons to teach. We want to teach the very refined and very cultivated

men who believe it impossible that the United States can ever be right

in a quarrel with another nation--a little of the elementary virtue of

patriotism. And we also wish to teach our fellow citizens that laws are

put on the statute books to be enforced and that if it is not intended

they shall be enforced it is a mistake to put a Dutchman in office to

enforce them.

The lines put on the program underneath my toast begin: "America! half

brother of the world!" America, half brother of the world--and all

Americans full brothers one to the other. That is the way that line

should be concluded. The prime virtue of the Hollander here in America

and the way in which he has most done credit to his stock as a

Hollander, is that he has ceased to be a Hollander and has become an

American, absolutely. We are not Dutch-Americans. We are not "Americans"

with a hyphen before it. We are Americans pure and simple, and we have a

right to demand that the other people whose stocks go to compose our

great nation, like ourselves, shall cease to be aught else and shall

become Americans.

And further than that, we have another thing to demand, and that is that

if they do honestly and in good faith become Americans, those shall be

regarded as infamous who dare to discriminate against them because of

creed or because of birthplace. When New Amsterdam had but a few hundred

souls, among those few hundred souls no less than eighteen different

race stocks were represented, and almost as many creeds as there were

race stocks, and the great contribution that the Hollander gave to the

American people was the inestimable lesson of complete civil and

religious liberty. It would be honor enough for this stock to have been

the first to put on American soil the public school, the great engine

for grinding out American citizens, the one institution for which

Americans should stand more stiffly than for aught other.

Whenever America has demanded of her sons that they should come to her

aid, whether in time of peace or in time of war, the Americans of Dutch

stock have been among the first to spring to the aid of the country. We

earnestly hope that there will not in the future be any war with any

power, but assuredly if there should be such a war one thing may be

taken for certain, and that is that every American of Dutch descent will

be found on the side of the United States. We give the amplest credit,

that some people now, to their shame, grudge to the profession of arms,

which we have here to-night represented by a man, who, when he has the

title of a major general of the army of the United States, has a title

as honorable as any that there is on the wide earth. We also need to

teach the lesson, that the Hollander taught, of not refusing to do the

small things because the day of large things had not yet come or was in

the past; of not waiting until the chance may come to distinguish

ourselves in arms, and meanwhile neglecting the plain, prosaic duties of

citizenship which call upon us every hour, every day of our lives.

The Dutch kept their freedom in the great contest with Spain, not merely

because they warred valiantly, but because they did their duty as

burghers in their cities, because they strove according to the light

that was in them to be good citizens and to act as such. And we all here

to-night should strive so to live that we Americans of Dutch descent

shall not seem to have shrunk in this respect, compared to our fathers

who spoke another tongue and lived under other laws beyond the ocean; so

that it shall be acknowledged in the end to be what it is, a discredit

to a man if he does not in times of peace do all that in him lies to

make the government of the city, the government of the country, better

and cleaner by his efforts.

I spoke of the militant spirit as if it may only be shown in time of

war. I think that if any of you gentlemen, no matter how peaceful you

may naturally be, and I am very peaceful naturally, if you would

undertake the administration of the Police Department you would have

plenty of fighting on hand before you would get through; and if you are

true to your blood you will try to do the best you can, fighting or not

fighting. You will make up your mind that you will make mistakes,

because you won't make anything if you don't make some mistakes, and you

will go forward according to your lights, utterly heedless of what

either politicians or newspapers may say, knowing that if you act as you

feel bound according to your conscience to act, you will then at least

have the right when you go out of office, however soon, to feel that you

go out without any regret, and to feel that you have according to your

capacity, warred valiantly for what you deemed to be the right.

These, then, are the qualities that I should claim for the Hollander as

an American: In the first place, that he has cast himself without

reservation into the current of American life; that he is an American,

pure and simple, and nothing else. In the next place, that he works hand

in hand and shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Americans, without any

regard to differences of creed or to differences of race and religion,

if only they are good Americans. In the third place, that he is willing,

when the need shall arise, to fight for his country; and in the fourth

place, and finally, that he recognizes that this is a country of laws

and not men, that it is his duty as an honest citizen to uphold the

laws, to strive for honesty, to strive for a decent administration, and

to do all that in him lies, by incessant, patient work in our

government, municipal or national, to bring about the day when it shall

be taken as a matter of course that every public official is to execute

a law honestly, and that no capacity in a public officer shall atone if

he is personally dishonest.

THE ADOPTED CITIZEN

Speech of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant at the 115th annual banquet of the

Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York, May 8, 1883.

MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN OF THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE AND GUESTS:--I am

very much obliged to your president for calling upon me first, because

the agony will soon be over and I shall enjoy the misery of the rest of

you.

The first part of this toast--The United States--would be a voluminous

one to respond to on a single occasion. Bancroft commenced to publish

his notes on the History of the United States, starting even before

President Lane established this Chamber, which I think was something

over one hundred years ago. Bancroft, I say, commenced earlier, and I am

not prepared to dispute his word if he should say that he had kept an

accurate journal from the time he commenced to write about the country

to the present, because there has been no period of time when I have

been alive that I have not heard of Bancroft, and I should be equally

credulous if President Lane should tell me that he was here at the

founding of this Institution. But instead of bringing those volumes of

Bancroft's here, and reading them to you on this occasion, I will let

the reporters publish them as the prelude to what I am going to say.

I think Bancroft has finished up to a little after the time that

President Lane established this Chamber of Commerce, and I will let you

take the records of what he (Lane) has written and what he has said in

their monthly meetings and publish them as the second chapter of my

speech. And, gentlemen, those two chapters you will find the longest;

they will not amount to much more than what I have to say taking up the

subject at the present time.

But in speaking of the United States, we who are native-born have a

country of which we may well be proud. Those of us who have been abroad

are better able, perhaps, to make the comparison of our enjoyments and

our comforts than those who have always stayed at home. It has been the

fortune, I presume, of the majority here to compare the life and the

circumstances of the average people abroad with ours here. We have here

a country that affords room for all and room for every enterprise. We

have institutions which encourage every man who has industry and ability

to rise from the position in which he may find himself to any position

in the land. It is hardly worth my while to dwell upon the subject, but

there is one point which I notice in the toast, that I would like to say

a word about--"_May those who seek the blessings of its free

institutions and the protection of its flag remember the obligations

they impose._" I think there is a text that my friend Mr. Beecher,[7] on

the left, or my friend Dr. Newman,[8] on the right, might well preach a

long sermon upon. I shall say only a few words.

We offer an asylum to every man of foreign birth who chooses to come

here and settle upon our soil; we make of him, after a few years'

residence only, a citizen endowed with all the rights that any of us

have, except perhaps the single one of being elected to the presidency

of the United States. There is no other privilege that a native, no

matter what he has done for the country, has that the adopted citizen of

five years' standing has not got. I contend that that places upon him an

obligation which, I am sorry to say, many of them do not seem to feel.

We have witnessed on many occasions here the foreign, the adopted,

citizen claiming many rights and privileges because he was an adopted

citizen. That is all wrong. Let him come here and enjoy all the

privileges that we enjoy, but let him fulfill all the obligations that

we are expected to fulfill. After he has adopted it, let this be his

country--a country that he will fight for, and die for, if necessary. I

am glad to say that the great majority of them do it, but some of them

who mingle in politics seem to bank largely on the fact that they are

adopted citizens; and that class I am opposed to as much as I am opposed

to many other things that I see are popular now.

I know that other speakers will come forward, and when Mr. Beecher and

Dr. Newman speak, I hope they will say a few words on the text which I

read.

[Illustration: "OLD IRONSIDES"--THE FRIGATE _CONSTITUTION_--1812]

OUR NAVY

Speech of Hampton L. Carson, delivered at the dinner of the Union

League, Philadelphia, April 5, 1899, in honor of Captain Charles E.

Clark, U. S. N., late Commander of the battleship "Oregon."

MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN OF THE UNION LEAGUE:--It was my good

fortune, some eighteen months ago, to be in the city of Seattle, when

the "Monterey" was lying in the harbor under the command of Captain

Clark. At the time of my visit clear skies, placid waters and silent

guns gave little indication of the awful responsibility that was soon to

be imposed upon the gallant commander. My boys, having met him, were,

like myself, intensely interested in the outcome of his voyage; and I

can say to him that the pulsations of the engines which drove the

_Oregon_ through fourteen thousand miles of tropic seas were accompanied

by the sympathetic beatings of hearts which had learned to love and

respect this great captain as he richly deserved.

The American Navy! The most concise tribute that I ever heard paid to

the sailors of the United States was contained in the answer of a man

from Indiana, who was an applicant for office under General Grant, just

after the Civil Service rules had gone into operation. The applicant was

apprehensive as to his ability to respond to the questions, but one of

his answers captured the board of examiners as well as the president,

and he secured the place. The question was, "How many sailors did Great

Britain send here, during the war of the Revolution, for the purpose of

subduing us?" and the answer was, "More by a----sight than ever got

back."

When Louis XIV, in order to check what he perceived to be the growing

supremacy of England upon the seas, determined to establish a navy, he

sent for his minister Colbert, and said to him, "I wish a navy--how can

I create it!" Colbert replied, "Make as many galley slaves as you can."

Thereupon every Huguenot who refused to doff his bonnet on the street as

the king passed by, every boy of seventeen who could give no account of

himself, every vagrant without an occupation, was seized, convicted, and

sent to the galleys. Could a navy of heroes be made of galley slaves!

The history of the Anglo-Saxon race says "No."

On the twenty-second day of December, 1775, the navy of the United

States was born on the waters of our Delaware. On that day Esek Hopkins,

of Rhode Island, was placed in command of a little fleet of eight

vessels--two of them ships, two of them brigs, the others very much

smaller. The English officers sneered in derision at "the fleet of

whaleboats." The rattlesnake flag--a yellow flag with a pine tree in the

centre and a rattlesnake coiled beneath its branches, with the words

"Don't tread on me"--was run to the masthead of the _Providence_, being

hauled there by the hands of the first lieutenant, John Paul Jones. That

little fleet of eight vessels, mounting only 114 guns, was sent forth to

confront a naval power of 112 battleships with 3,714 guns--not a single

gun of ours throwing a ball heavier than nine pounds, while five hundred

of the English guns threw a weight of metal of double that amount.

Wasn't it an audacious thing? Why, it seems to me one of the marvels of

human history when I reflect upon what was attempted by the Americans of

1776.

Look at the situation. Thirteen different colonies strung along a narrow

strip of coast; three thousand miles of rolling ocean on the one side

and three thousand miles of impenetrable wilderness on the other;

colonies with infinite diversity of interests--diverse in blood, diverse

in conditions of society, diverse in ambition, diverse in pursuits--the

English Puritan on the rock of Plymouth, the Knickerbocker Dutch on the

shores of the Hudson, the Jersey Quaker on the other side of the

Delaware, the Swede extending from here to Wilmington, Maryland

bisected by our great bay of the Chesapeake, Virginia cut in half by the

same water way, North Carolina and South Carolina lying south of

impenetrable swamps as inaccessible to communication as a range of

mountains, and farther south the sparsely-settled colony of Georgia.

Huguenot, Cavalier, Catholic, Quaker, Dutchman, Puritan, Mennonite,

Moravian, and Church of England men; and yet, under the hammer stroke of

British oppression, thirteen colonies were welded into one thunderbolt,

which was launched at the throne of George III.

That little navy under Hopkins--where were those sailors bred? Read

Burke's speech on the conciliation of America. They sprang from the

loins of hardy fishermen amidst tumbling fields of ice on the banks of

Newfoundland, from those who had speared whales in the tepid waters of

Brazil, or who had pursued their gigantic game into the Arctic zone or

beneath the light of the Southern Cross. That fleet of eight ships

sailed from the Delaware on the twenty-second of December, 1775, and

proceeded to the island of New Providence, among the Bahamas. Our

colonies and our armies were without arms, without powder, without

munitions of war. The very first exploit of the fleet was the capture,

on the nineteenth of March, 1776, of 150 cannon, 130 barrels of powder

and eight warships, which were carried in triumph into Long Island

Sound. But what of American heroism when the soldiers of Howe, of

Clinton, of Carleton, and of Gage came here to fight the farmers of

Pennsylvania, of Connecticut and Virginia, and the gay cavaliers who

loved adventure? The British soldiers had conquered India under Sir

Robert Clive and Sir Eyre Coote; they had been the heroes of Plassey and

Pondicherry; men who had subjected to British dominion a country almost

as extensive as our own fair republic and containing one hundred and

ninety millions of souls. Here they found themselves faced by men of

their own blood, men in whose breasts burned the spirit and the love of

that liberty which was to encircle the heavens. On the glory-crowned

heights of Bunker Hill the patriots gazed at the rafters of their own

burning dwellings in the town of Charlestown, and heard the cannon shots

hurled from British ships against the base of the hill. Three times did

scarlet regiments ascend that hill only to be driven back; the voice of

that idiot boy, Job Pray, ringing out above the din of battle, "Let them

come on to Breed's--the people will teach them the law."

When the evacuation by the British of the metropolis of New England was

effected by the troops under the command of a Virginia soldier, General

Washington, then for the first time did sectionalism and partisanship

and divisions on narrow lines vanish; the patriots who had fought at

Bunker Hill were now no longer to be known as the troops of

Massachusetts, of Connecticut, or of Rhode Island, but henceforth it was

the Continental Army. On the very day when the British were driven out

of Boston, John Paul Jones, with that historic rattlesnake flag, and,

floating above it, not the Stars and Stripes, but the Stripes with the

Union Jack, entered the waters of Great Britain; and then it was seen

that an American captain with an American ship and American sailors had

the pluck to push out into foreign seas and to beard the British lion in

his den. The same channel which had witnessed the victories of De Ruyter

and Von Tromp, which was the scene of Blake's victory over the Dutch,

and where the father of our great William Penn won his laurels as an

admiral, was now the scene of the exploits of an American captain

fighting beneath an American flag for American rights inherited from old

mother England, who, in a moment of forgetfulness, had sought to deprive

her offspring of liberty. I know of no more thrilling incident in

revolutionary naval annals than the fight between the _Serapis_ and the

_Bon Homme Richard_, when Paul Jones, on the burning deck of a sinking

ship, lashed his yard arms to those of the enemy and fought hand to

hand, man to man, until the British colors struck, and then, under the

very cliffs of Old England, were run up for the first time the Stars and

Stripes--with a field of blue into which the skillful fingers of Betsy

Ross, of Philadelphia, had woven inextinguishable stars; the red stripes

typifying the glory, the valor, and the self-sacrifice of the men who

died that liberty might live; and the white, emblematic of purity, fitly

representing those principles to preserve which these men had sanctified

themselves by an immortal self-dedication. And there, too, in the

Continental Navy was Richard Dale, the young "Middy," who fought beside

Paul Jones; and Joshua Barney; and John Barry; and Nicholas Biddle of

Philadelphia, who later, in the gallant little _Randolph_, in order to

help a convoyed fleet of American merchantmen to escape, boldly

attacked the battleship _Yarmouth_; and when it was found that he was

doomed to defeat, blew up his vessel, perishing with all his crew,

rather than strike the colors of the newly-born republic.

All honor to the navy of the United States! I never can read of its

exploits--peaceful citizen as I am--without my blood bubbling with a

joyous sense of exultation at the thought that the flag which has swept

the seas, carrying liberty behind it, is the flag which is destined to

sweep the seas again and carry liberty, civilization, and all the

blessings of free government into benighted islands far, far from hence.

Why, gentlemen, the story of the exploits of our little fleets reads

like a romance. At the end of the Revolutionary War eight hundred

British ships, fifteen of them battleships, had surrendered to the

prowess of the American navy, together with twelve thousand five hundred

prisoners captured by less than three thousand men; and in that war our

country had produced the boldest admirals that, up to that time,

civilization had known, and the greatest fighting naval heroes that the

world had seen.

Then came the War of 1812, to establish sailors' rights upon the high

seas, when the American navy again proved victor despite overwhelming

odds. I have in my possession a list of the British and American vessels

at the outbreak of that war; and if I were to represent them by

something tangible in order to indicate the proportions of each, I would

say, taking this box lid for example (illustrating with the stem of a

rose upon the cover of a discarded flower box), that if you were to draw

a line across here, near the top, you would have sufficient space in the

narrow strip above the dividing line to write the names of all the

American ships, while the entire remaining space would not be more than

sufficient for the English fleet, which was more than thirty times the

size of its antagonist. The ships which under Nelson had fought at the

Nile and had won imperishable glory at Trafalgar, coming into our

waters, struck their flags time and again. The glorious old "Ironsides"

(the _Constitution_) captured the _Guerriere_, the _Java_, the _Cyane_,

and _Levant_. The _United States_ took the _Macedonian_; the _Wasp_

destroyed the _Frolic_, while on the lakes we point with pride to the

victories of Perry and MacDonough. When battle after battle had been

fought it was found that, of eighteen fixed engagements, seventeen were

victories for the Stars and Stripes. And this over the greatest maritime

war power of the world!

Philadelphia is honorably associated with the glories of our navy. Our

early battleships, though not all built here, were planned and

constructed by Joshua Humphreys, a Philadelphian, the predecessor of our

great shipbuilder of to-day, Charles H. Cramp.

Need I speak of the navy from 1861 to 1865, or tell of the exploits of

those gallant fleets which clove a pathway down the valley of the Ohio,

of the Tennessee, and of the Mississippi, in order that liberty might

ride unvexed from the lakes to the gulf? Need I dwell upon the part

taken by the guest of this evening, who was an officer who fought under

Farragut?

In our recent war with Spain there were some who, in doubting moments,

yielded to that atrabilious disposition which has been so well described

by Mr. Tomkins; who thought that our ships were not strong enough to

hazard an encounter with the fleets of Spain. But meanwhile there was

doubling "around the Horn" a battleship, with a captain and a crew whose

marvelous voyage was attracting the eyes of the world. Night after night

we took up the map, traced his course from port to port, and our hearts

beat high, our lips were firmly compressed, the color faded from our

cheeks with excitement, but our eyes blazed with exultant anticipation

as nearer and nearer to Pernambuco did he come. We all now feel, judging

of the possibilities by actual achievement, that had Captain Clark

encountered the enemy's ships, he could and would have successfully

fought and defeated the entire Spanish fleet. He carried his ship ready

for instant actions, every man at his post. God bless that crew! God

bless those stokers, far down below those decks, confident that the

captain who commanded them was on the bridge, and that he would never

flinch nor fail in the hour of trial! I have often tried to draw a

mental picture of what the scene must have been when the _Oregon_

steamed in to join the fleet before Santiago; when the white jackets on

the yard-arms tossed their caps in the air, and southern tars gave back

to Yankee cheers a lusty welcome to the man who for so long, against all

odds, with no encouraging advices, with unknown terrors all about him,

had never flinched from duty, and who, when the last summons came,

responded in the words of Colonel Newcomb, _Adsum_--"I am here."

On the morning of the third of July, 1898, there stood the frowning

Morro Castle, the prison of the glorious Hobson; on the other side the

fortress of Estrella; the narrow channel blocked by the wreck of the

_Merrimac_; the _Brooklyn_, the _Oregon_, the _Texas_, the _Indiana_,

the _Iowa_ and the _Massachusetts_ all watching that orifice. Then black

smoke rolled from the tunnels of the enemy's ships, indicating that the

tiger had roused him from his lair and was making a rush for the open

sea. Up went the signal on the flagstaff of the _Brooklyn_,

"Forward--the enemy is approaching." Then engines moved; then guns

thundered their volleys; then sky and sea became black with the smoke of

battle; and swiftly steamed the _Oregon_ in pursuit of the _Cristobal

Colon_. Beneath well-directed shots the monster reeled, like a wounded

athlete, to the beach; and then from the flagstaff of the _New York_

were displayed those signals now on these walls before your

eyes--"1-7-3; cornet; 2m-9m-7m"--which, translated, meant--and we of the

League to-night repeat the words--"Well done, _Oregon_."

Captain Clark, the city of Philadelphia has always contributed her share

to the building of the navy and to a fitting recognition of the heroes

who have commanded our battleships. In the old churchyard of St. Mary's,

on Fourth Street, sleep the bones of John Barry; and in the older

churchyard of St. Peter's stands the monument to Decatur. We have with

us also the ashes of Stewart, who commanded "Old Ironsides" when she

captured the _Cyane_ and the _Levant_; and we have those of Bainbridge,

who captured the _Java_.

In reading of the exploits of the master spirits of the past, I have

sometimes wondered whether we had men of to-day who were their equals.

My answer is this: I say to soldiers and sailors, whether of our Civil

War or of the late war with Spain, you are worthy of your sires, you

have caught the inspiration of their glowing deeds, you have taken up

the burden which they threw upon your shoulders, and though in time to

come you may sleep in unmarked graves, the memory of your deeds will

live; and, like your sires, you have become immortal.

To fight for liberty is indeed a privilege. "Disguise thyself as thou

wilt, still, Slavery, thou art a bitter draught; and, though thousands

in all ages have been made to drink thee, thou art no less bitter on

that account. 'Tis thou, O Liberty! thrice sweet and gracious goddess,

whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so till nature herself shall

change. No tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, nor chemic power

turn thy scepter into iron. With thee to smile upon him, as he eats his

crust, the swain is happier than the monarch from whose courts thou art

exiled." So wrote Laurence Sterne.

And then Rufus Choate: "To form and uphold a state, it is not enough

that our judgments should believe it to be useful; the better part of

our affections should feel it to be lovely. It is not enough that our

arithmetic should compute its value and find it high; our hearts should

hold it priceless--above all things rich and rare--dearer than health

and beauty, brighter than all the order of the stars." In contemplating

those mysterious dispensations of Providence by which the light which

broke upon this continent two hundred years ago is now penetrating and

illuminating the darkest corners of the earth, it will be a supreme

satisfaction for us to know that our children and our children's

children will have set for their imitation and encouragement the example

of the heroism, the manliness, the courage, the patriotism and the

modesty of the captains of to-day.

[Illustration: LATEST TYPE OF DREADNAUGHT]

THE PATRIOTISM OF PEACE

Address by William Jennings Bryan delivered in London, in the Royal

Gallery of the House of Lords, on July 26, 1906, at the session of

the Interparliamentary Union or Peace Congress. It is given here by

special permission of Mr. Bryan and his publishers--Funk and

Wagnalls Company, New York and London.

I regret that I cannot speak to you in the language which is usually

employed in this body, but I know only one language, the language of my

own country, and you will pardon me if I use that. I desire in the first

place to express my appreciation of the courtesy shown me by Lord

Weardale, our president, and by Baron von Plener, the chairman of the

committee which framed the model treaty. The latter has framed this

substitute embodying both of the ideas (investigation and meditation)

which were presented yesterday. I recognize the superior wisdom and the

greater experience of this learned committee which has united the two

propositions, and I thank this body also for the opportunity to say just

a word in defense of my part of the resolution. I cannot say that it is

a new idea, for since it was presented yesterday I have learned that the

same idea in substance was presented last year at Brussels by Mr.

Bartholdt, of my own country, who has been so conspicuous in his efforts

to promote peace, and I am very glad that I can follow in his footsteps

in the urging of this amendment. I may add also that it is in line with

the suggestion made by the honorable prime minister of Great Britain,

Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, in that memorable and epoch-making speech

of yesterday, in that speech which contained several sentences any one

of which would have justified the assembling of this Interparliamentary

Union--any one of which would have compensated us all for coming here.

In that splendid speech he expressed the hope that the scope of

arbitration treaties might be enlarged. He said:

"GENTLEMEN, I fervently trust that before long the principles of

arbitration may win such confidence as to justify its extension to

a wider field of international differences. We have already seen

how questions arousing passion and excitement have attained a

solution, not necessarily by means of arbitration in the strict

sense of the word, by referring them to such a tribunal as that

which reported on the North Sea incident; and I would ask you

whether, it may not be worth while carefully to consider, before

the next Congress meets at The Hague, the various forms in which

differences might be submitted, with a view to opening the door as

wide as possible to every means which might in any degree

contribute to moderate or compose such differences."

This amendment is in harmony with this suggestion. The resolution is in

the form of a postscript to the treaty, but like the postscripts to some

letters it contains a very vital subject--in fact, I am not sure but the

postscript in this case is as important as the letter itself, for it

deals with those questions which have defied arbitration. Certain

questions affecting the honor or integrity of a nation are generally

thought to be outside of the jurisdiction of a court of arbitration, and

these are the questions which have given trouble. Passion is not often

aroused by questions that do not affect a nation's integrity or honor,

but for fear these questions may arise arbitration is not always

employed where it might be. The first advantage, then, of this

resolution is that it secures an investigation of the facts, and if you

can but separate these facts from the question of honor, the chances are

100-to-1 that you can settle both the fact and the question of honor

without war. There is, therefore, a great advantage in an investigation

that brings out the facts, for disputed facts between nations, as

between friends, are the cause of most disagreements.

The second advantage of this investigation is that it gives time for

calm consideration. That has already been well presented by the

gentlemen who has preceded me, Baron von Plener. I need not say to you

that man excited is a very different animal from man calm, and that

questions ought to be settled, not by passion, but by deliberation. If

this resolution would do nothing else but give time for reflection and

deliberation, there would be sufficient reason for its adoption. If we

can but stay the hand of war until conscience can assert itself, war

will be made more remote. When men are mad they swagger around and tell

what they can do; when they are calm they consider what they ought to

do.

The third advantage of this investigation is that it gives opportunity

to mobilize public opinion of the compelling of a peaceful settlement

and that is an advantage not to be overlooked. Public opinion is coming

to be more and more a power in the world. One of the greatest statesmen

of my country--Thomas Jefferson, and if it would not offend I would say

I believe him to be the greatest statesman the world has produced--said

that if he had to choose between a government without newspapers and

newspapers without a government, he would rather risk the newspapers

without a government. You may call it an extravagant statement, and yet

it presents an idea, and that idea is that public opinion is a

controlling force. I am glad that the time is coming when public opinion

is to be more and more powerful; glad that the time is coming when the

moral sentiment of one nation will influence the action of other

nations; glad that the time is coming when the world will realize that a

war between the two nations affects others than the nations involved;

glad that the time is coming when the world will insist that nations

settle their differences by some peaceful means. If time is given for

the marshaling of the force of public opinion peace will be promoted.

This resolution is presented, therefore, for the reasons that it gives

an opportunity to investigate the facts, and to separate them from the

question of honor, that it gives time for the calming of passion, and

that it gives time for the formation of a controlling public sentiment.

I will not disguise the fact that I consider this resolution a long

step in the direction of peace, nor will I disguise the fact that I am

here because I want this Interparliamentary Union to take just as long a

step as possible in the direction of universal peace. We meet in a

famous hall, and looking down upon us from these walls are pictures that

illustrate not only the glory that is to be won in war, but the horrors

that follow war. There is a picture of one of the great figures in

English history (pointing to the fresco by Maclise of the death of

Nelson). Lord Nelson is represented as dying, and around him are the

mangled forms of others. I understand that war brings out certain

virtues. I am aware that it gives opportunity for the display of great

patriotism; I am aware that the example of men who give their lives for

their country is inspiring; but I venture to say there is as much

inspiration in a noble life as there is in a heroic death, and I trust

that one of the results of this Interparliamentary Union will be to

emphasize the doctrine that a life devoted to the public, and ever

flowing, like a spring, with good, exerts an influence upon the human

race and upon the destiny of the world as great as any death in war. And

if you will permit me to mention one whose career I watched with

interest and whose name I revere, I will say that, in my humble

judgment, the sixty-four years of spotless public service of William

Ewart Gladstone will, in years to come, be regarded as rich an ornament

to the history of this nation as the life of any man who poured out his

blood upon a battlefield.

All movements in the interest of peace have back of them the idea of

brotherhood. If peace is to come in this world, it will come because

people more and more clearly recognize the indissoluble tie that binds

each human being to every other. If we are to build permanent peace it

must be on the foundation of the brotherhood of men. A poet has

described how in the Civil War that divided our country into two hostile

camps a generation ago--in one battle a soldier in one line thrust his

bayonet through a soldier in the opposing line, and how, when he stooped

to draw it out, he recognized in the face of the fallen one the face of

his own brother. And then the poet describes the feeling of horror that

overwhelmed the survivor when he realized that he had taken the life of

one who was the child of the same parents and the companion of his

boyhood. It was a pathetic story, but is it too much to hope that as

years go by we will begin to understand that the whole human race is but

a larger family?

It is not too much to hope that as years go by human sympathy will

expand until this feeling of unity will not be confined to the members

of a family or to the members of a clan or of a community or state, but

shall be world-wide. It is not too much to hope that we, in this

assembly, possibly by this resolution, may hasten the day when we shall

feel so appalled at the thought of the taking of any human life that we

shall strive to raise all questions to a level where the settlement will

be by reason and not by force.

A PLEA FOR UNIVERSAL PEACE

The following extracts are from an address delivered by George W.

Norris, United States senator from Nebraska, at Chautauquas and on

lecture courses throughout the country for several years. It is one

of the most logical and practical plans for universal peace ever

proposed. It was prepared when the civilized world was at peace

immediately following the peace treaty between Russia and Japan.

David Starr Jordan declares that "military efficiency" is the

principal cause of the present European war. A serious and honest

study of how to preserve peace and how to avoid war cannot help but

bring good results. This is the purpose of Senator Norris's

lecture. For a further study of this most important subject, the

reader is referred to Sumner's great oration on "The True Grandeur

of Nations," to various speeches and monographs by Andrew Carnegie,

and to numerous other publications, recently issued, regarding the

patriotism of peace.

The greatest disgrace of the present century is that war between

civilized nations is still a possibility. That such a barbarous

condition should exist in the civilized world is painful to every lover

of humanity and to every believer in the great brotherhood of man.

Every civilized country of the world requires its subjects to submit

their differences and disputes to tribunals and courts that have been

organized under the forms of law for their settlement and yet these same

nations violate the principle of law which they compel their subjects to

obey. The citizen must maintain his rights and settle his grievances

before tribunals organized according to law, upon principles of justice

and of right. Kings and rulers settle their disputes upon the field of

battle without regard to right, without regard to justice, and upon the

erroneous and barbarous theory that might makes right. It is to be

regretted that the great advance that has been made from barbarism by

the different nations of the world by which the disputes and

controversies arising within each nation are settled according to forms

of law upon the principles of justice and equality, has not extended to

the settlement of disputes between the nations themselves. Why is it

that rulers, who are able to settle all controversies within the

countries they control are not able to settle controversies between

those countries?

Humanity is broader than nationality and embraces within its scope the

entire world. The measure of human happiness will not be full, the

heights of national glory will not be reached until we can look over the

world and in the words of the scripture, truthfully say of every citizen

of every civilized nation--"Is he not after all, my brother?"

Why then should there be war? I know that it can truthfully be claimed

that this cruel and heartless demon has settled many questions of

world-wide importance, but it never settled one on any principle of

equity, morality, or justice. In modern times its decree has been more

often right than wrong, because the great spirit of public sentiment

when once aroused has not only furnished money and men for the right,

but it has thoroughly imbued the hearts of its soldiers with a

determination and a bravery that have done much to place the victory

where it properly belonged. But what a sacrifice of human life and

treasure. I do not want to be understood as claiming that all the wars

of history were wrong or could have been avoided. Some of them were

carried on for liberty, some were waged for mercy and some were fought

for humanity. The soldier, not only of our own land, but of other

countries as well, is entitled to all the consideration and all the

honor and glory that humanity can give or bestow. I am however

proclaiming against the conditions existing in modern civilized times

that make war not only sometimes necessary, but at any time possible.

But the question recurs again--what is a practical way to solve the

difficulty? Who shall take the first step? Who can take the first step

with the assurance that beneficial results will follow? What nation

to-day occupies such a unique position in civilization that it can step

out into the open and say to all the civilized world--"We are willing to

submit to peaceful arbitration every international dispute, every

international controversy not only of the present but of the future as

well." What nation in assuming this position can command not only the

respect and belief of other nations in the integrity and the honesty of

its purpose, but can also receive the respect and approval of humanity's

peace loving sentiment, that will go far towards impelling the balance

of the civilized world to accept the proffered hand of universal

brotherhood!

If we study the history of European nations, we will find a trace at

least of jealousy between them that has come down from the days of

barbarism. In ancient times the king, who was then supposed to possess,

and is still suspicioned to have, some attributes of Divinity, ruled

only over such territory as he was able to hold in subjection. He broke

no law of nations if, without notice, cause or provocation, he made war

upon his neighbor in an attempt to conquer and subdue additional

territory. He violated no principle of government if in carrying out his

purpose he resorted to trickery, chicanery, and dishonesty. The result

was that every ruler was suspicious of every other ruler.

This suspiciousness and lack of confidence anciently existing between

kings, and permeating the framework of every European nation, has, in a

lessening and decreasing degree, come down to the present day. It exists

now--unconsciously perhaps--but exists nevertheless, and must be taken

into consideration whenever any European nation makes a proposition to

other European nations for the settlement of any great international

question. This condition was well paraphrased by a great European

statesman in comparing European conditions with those of America, when

he referred to it as American boldness and European suspiciousness.

In the new world where our government's leadership and controlling

influence are recognized and acknowledged by all the world, these

conditions do not obtain. Here the divine right of kings has never been

recognized. We have not only disclaimed the right of conquest ourselves,

but we have refused to recognize it in others. We have not only refused

to recognize this right in the strong nation, but we have protected the

weak nation against it. Moreover we have shown to the world our

unselfish devotion to that principle to the extent of sacrificing life

and treasure in the defense of the weak against the strong--the

protection of the down-trodden and oppressed against oppression. Our

entire national life has been emblematic of an unselfish respect for the

rights of other nations, and is not tainted with that suspiciousness

which has come down to others from ancient times. Our position among the

nations of the world was well illustrated by what happened in the war

between Russia and Japan.

When these two great nations had gotten each other by the throat and

were struggling in mortal combat, the entire world was aroused to

admiration by the action of America's great president. Neither one of

the warring nations had expressed any desire for peace. Neither one had

shown any disposition to cease the conflict. Neither one had asked for

any intercession, and yet in the midst of the bloody conflict, when

America's voice was heard, they both halted, they both ceased, and they

both obeyed.

It was because they knew--all the world knew--that in the voice which

called them from the battlefield to reason's court there was no taint of

selfishness; that in that call there was no suspicion of an ulterior or

dishonorable motive, but that in the heart of the great statesman, whose

voice they heeded, there was only the purity of a humane effort to bring

about the welfare of all. From the very nature of the development of

other nations from the barbarism of ancient times it is quite apparent

that no other ruler of the civilized world could have made that

proposition with the same successful results. In response to the

friendly intervention of the American Government, Russia and Japan

appointed commissioners to agree upon terms of peace.

While these commissioners were in session on American soil, a notable

assemblage for the advancement of international arbitration was in

session at Brussels, the capital of Belgium. At this meeting of the

Interparliamentary Union there were representatives from practically

every civilized country in the world except Russia and Japan. We watched

with hopeful anxiety the reports which the cable brought us of the

progress that was being made by these peace commissioners at Portsmouth.

In that assemblage, composed of representatives from two continents,

there was a unanimous wish, a united hope, a fervent prayer that

America's intervention would prove successful.

As a fitting close of that great international conference the

representatives of Belgium invited all the delegates to a reception held

in that historic building where the cohorts of Napoleon were assembled

in revelry on the eve of Waterloo. The rooms were decorated with the

colors of all nations. The finest band of Belgium was playing her

national air. In the midst of it the music suddenly ceased. All eyes

were turned to the rostrum. We saw the leader of the band seize from the

decorations of the hall the American flag, and using it as a baton, he

waved it over the heads of the musicians, and in answer to his action

there burst forth the rapturous strains of "The Star Spangled Banner."

For a moment, and a moment only, there was silence, and then there burst

forth a roar of applause which clearly indicated that everyone there

understood, that beneath the fathomless deep the electric spark had

brought the welcome news that on the shores of America an agreement for

peace had been signed. On the occasion of nearly one hundred years

before the revelry was interrupted by the booming of cannon, but on this

occasion it was the joyous message that under the leadership of America

the peace of the world had been established. That was an occasion, my

countrymen, when it was greater to be an American citizen than to wear a

crown.

Heretofore one of the greatest obstacles to the peaceful settlement of

international difficulties, and to the submission of such controversies

to arbitration, has been that the offense has been committed, or the

controversy has arisen before any rule for its settlement has been

provided, or any tribunal for its determination has been selected. This

ex post facto machinery for the settlement of differences is not only

unreasonable and illogical, but it has been guarded against by all the

civilized nations of the earth in the regulation and management of their

own internal affairs. When disagreeing nations are aroused to anger by

the excitement and the prejudice of the people on account of real or

imaginary wrong, it is a poor time indeed to attempt to agree upon a

fair method of settlement, or to exercise that calm deliberation which

should be invoked in the selection of the arbitrators.

The treaty of arbitration should be general and apply to all disputes.

It should be negotiated in time of profound peace, and not with

reference to any particular controversy. Its judges should be selected

in time of peace and their terms of office should be permanent. In order

that they might be removed from, and uninfluenced by, any bias or

prejudice they should be appointed for life, and while holding this

great international commission they should be prohibited from accepting

or holding any other office or emolument from any government.

The treaty, however, should specifically provide that these

international judges could be appointed and selected as members of any

other international arbitration tribunal, and in accordance with this

provision each government would undoubtedly select the same men as

judges for each arbitration treaty into which it entered.

To illustrate--if our government entered into such a treaty with the

German Empire, and afterwards into a similar treaty with France, we

would select the same arbitrators under the treaty with France that we

had named in carrying out the provisions of the treaty with Germany, and

in any subsequent arbitration treaty with any other nation, the same men

would again be named as our arbitrators. There is little doubt but what

all other nations would pursue a similar course.

This would give us an international court that would command the

absolute respect of all mankind and the confidence of all civilization.

Its judges would be free from any bias, prejudice or excitement that

might exist in either one or both of the contending nations. Instead of

representing one government as against the other they would in fact,

without partiality and with equal justice, represent both of the

contending parties. Their life work would be the study of international

questions. They would become learned--yea, experts--in international law

and the administration of international justice. If each nation selected

the same judges in each of its arbitration treaties, the world would

have a list--a school--of international jurists devoting their time,

their energies and their lives to the study of international questions

and the settlement of international disputes. In the hands of these men

the peace of the civilized world would be safe and secure.

The treaty of arbitration would undoubtedly provide for an equal number

of arbitrators from each of the contracting parties. It likewise would,

and undoubtedly should, provide for the selection of additional members

of the court in cases where the judges were equally divided on any

question submitted to them. A wise provision would be to let the

permanent judges themselves select the additional arbitrators, and with

this list of great international jurists from which to make a choice,

how small the possibility of error, and how great would be the

probability of a wise selection. As a matter of fact it would seldom be

necessary for this provision of the treaty to be acted on. Not once in a

lifetime would the members of such a court be divided along the lines of

nationality. The judges of this court, occupying this dignified,

exalted and unparalleled position before the world, would be farther

removed from bias and prejudice than any court that has ever been

instituted in the history of mankind. Its decisions would become

precedents for future action. It would not be long until we would have a

line of decisions, that would eliminate the uncertainty of international

law which has existed in the past. A question once determined by this

great court would be accepted by the world as the law for the future,

and the result would be that we would not only have an international

tribunal for the peaceful settlement and determination of all

international questions, but their decisions would become the beacon

lights of peace for future generations, whose rays of wisdom and of

reason would light up the dark waters of international jurisprudence,

mark out the course of safety for every ship of state, and warn her

mariners of the shoals of disaster.

There is no ground whatever for the belief which prevails somewhat that

the members of such a court would always follow the contention of their

own country. Even under the present cumbersome and illogical method of

selecting arbitrators we have a recent illustration that men great

enough to fill positions of this kind, realizing the dignity and

responsibility of the position, will rise above the clamor of their own

countrymen and decide the question at issue upon its merits. I refer to

the Alaskan boundary dispute between the United States and Great

Britain. We have also an illustration of this point in our own country.

Our national government is composed of sovereign states. State pride is

an attribute of practically all our citizens. Its influence has

compelled men to honestly do all kinds of unreasonable things. For it

men have given up their property and sacrificed their lives. Yet this

prejudice has never reached our judiciary. Every United States judge is

a citizen of some state. They try cases between different states, pass

on disputes existing between a sovereign state and the citizens of

another state, and settle controversies arising between the citizens of

one state and the citizens of another state. Our judges have been

criticized on nearly all possible grounds, often no doubt without

reason, sometimes perhaps with good cause, but in the entire history of

our country, there has never yet been made the charge that any one of

these judges has been influenced in his official conduct by pride of his

native or adopted state. Man is often unconsciously influenced and

controlled by his associations, his habits and the environments of

earlier life. Their influence has become a part of the man. But the

history of jurisprudence will show that judges have seldom, if ever,

been moved or influenced in official action by the excitement, the

clamor or the prejudice of the citizenship if it was beyond the power of

that citizenship to reward or punish.

It is unnecessary to provide any method for the enforcement of the

decrees of an international court. It is safe to trust to the honor of

the governments interested, and to the enlightened public sentiment of

the civilized world for the honest enforcement in good faith of every

such judgment and decree. This has been frequently demonstrated in the

past. In all the history of the world there has never been an instance

where an offending nation has failed to carry out in good faith the

judgment of an international court.

In America the friends of international arbitration are not united as

they should be. The division comes about principally on account of a

disagreement as to what should be the size of our navy. There are some

who believe that we should make but a small annual increase in our navy,

and some of these are inclined to criticize those who advocate a large

navy and to claim that such conduct is inconsistent with international

arbitration. While I have been one of those who usually have favored a

small yearly increase in our naval vessels, yet I am frank to admit that

under present conditions, there is much sound logic in the argument that

the greatest and best assurance of international peace, is to be always

prepared for war. It is well too, to remember that an unbiased and

unprejudiced tribunal in a foreign land has recently given an

international trophy--the world's prize--to the greatest American

exponent of a large navy, for having during the year for which the prize

was given, accomplished more for international peace, than any other

living man. It is not my intention to discuss this subject. It is not

necessary to decide it for the purposes of the present discussion. It is

of importance when considering the subject of national defense and

national finances, but it has no decisive influence upon the question of

international arbitration. The man who favors a small navy, and the man

who favors a large one can consistently work side by side for the

advancement of international peace. The size of the navy that we should

maintain is a question upon which the minds of wise and patriotic men

may honestly differ. Everybody admits that we should keep and maintain

an ample and sufficient navy, and that annual additions thereto are

necessary to maintain its efficiency. But, the terms "adequate navy,"

"sufficient navy" and "large navy" are very indefinite, and convey

entirely different ideas to different people. What one man might regard

as a small navy, another one equally as wise would regard as entirely

too large. What one person would consider a small and inadequate annual

addition to our navy, others, equally as patriotic, would regard as

unreasonable and extravagant. A man's ideas on this disputed and

unsettled question can not consistently be urged against the sincerity

of his purpose when he advocates international arbitration.

But while the friends of international arbitration may honestly disagree

as to the strength of the army and the size of the navy that should be

maintained in times of peace, there is no disagreement in the

condemnation of the conditions which make it necessary to maintain a

large army and navy. These conditions are relics of barbarism. They are

not founded upon any wisdom, reason, or justice. They exist only because

the great men of to-day, who hold the destinies of nations in their

hands have not met upon the broad plane of equality and agreed upon

their abolishment.

Heretofore the cry of international arbitration has come mainly from

those who were moved by the idea of philanthropy, of mercy and of

humanity. It will not be long until these influences will be joined by

all the commercial interests of civilization and all the tax-payers of

the world. For the fiscal year (1907) in our own country there was

appropriated from the national treasury nearly four hundred millions of

dollars on account of war. Over sixty-five per cent. of the revenues of

our national government are spent on account of our wars of the past, or

in preparation for war in the future. Every time our government raises a

dollar by taxation more than sixty-five cents of it is demanded as a

tribute by this blood thirsty demon.

Our situation is only a fair illustration of what exists everywhere in

the world. In round numbers about one-half of the money raised by

taxation in the leading civilized nations of the world is spent, either

in the payment of obligations of past wars, or in the preparation for

war in the future. The expense of this preparation is increasing at a

wonderful rate. Our government expends about the same amount of money as

the other leading nations of the world in the preparation for war in the

future, but for the expenses of wars that are past it expends more than

all the other nations combined. The expenses of our past wars,

consisting chiefly and mainly of pensions, are just, and no one would

cut them down, excepting as they will be curtailed by the hand of Time

as he gathers into his fold our heroes of the past. We will therefore

eliminate the past from the financial consideration of the question.

During a single year of peace, Great Britain, Germany, France, and the

United States spent nearly one billion of dollars in making preparation

for war. All the money in the United States would only pay this enormous

expense for a little more than two years. The people of these highly

civilized countries, while in profound peace, were taxing themselves to

death, in order that the survivors might kill each other according to

the most modern methods of modern warfare with the most modern weapons

of human destruction.

As startling and astounding as these figures are, they do not tell one

half of the story. Human life cannot be measured in dollars and cents;

broken hearts cannot be healed by the appropriation of money; human

suffering and misery cannot be alleviated by financial consideration,

and humanity stands helpless in the face of death and destruction. At

the fireside of practically every home in Christendom, there is a vacant

chair, made so by war. For every vacant chair there was a ruined

hearthstone; for every hearthstone there was a sorrowing widow; and for

every widow there is a fatherless child. For every penny spent for war

there is a sigh of grief; for every shilling there is a tear of sorrow;

and for every dollar there is a broken heart. The amount expended on

this account in the civilized world, in one year would give shelter to

every pauper, a home to every unfortunate, and an education to every

child. At the present rate of increasing expense it will not be long

until this great chain will break of its own weight; until every nation

will become bankrupt and every tax-payer will become a pauper. As this

time approaches, the forces of international peace will become more

numerous and more powerful. Humanity will shake off the shackles of

barbarism and defy the God of War upon his throne. In this battle of

reason, that tyrant of oppression, that ruler of ignorance, that demon

of superstition, in whose decree there is no mercy, in whose judgment

there is no justice, will be driven from his throne, and relegated

beyond the portals of a universal peace, to be remembered only as a

horrible nightmare of an unholy and an unrighteous past.

[Illustration: THE ADDRESS AT GETTYSBURG]

LINCOLN'S GETTYSBURG ADDRESS

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this

continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the

proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a

great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived

and so dedicated, can long endure.

We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate

a portion of that field as the final resting-place for those who here

gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting

and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot

dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave

men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far above

our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long

remember, what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished

work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is

rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before

us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that

cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion; that

we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that

this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that

government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not

perish from the earth.

PRESIDENT WILSON'S NEUTRALITY PROCLAMATION

This proclamation is in strict keeping with Washington's counsel.

It is one of the greatest of President Wilson's state papers and

probably did more than any one act of his administration in keeping

the United States from becoming involved in the European war.

MY FELLOW COUNTRYMEN:--I suppose that every thoughtful man in America

has asked himself, during these last troubled weeks, what influence the

European war may exert upon the United States, and I take the liberty of

addressing a few words to you in order to point out that it is entirely

within our own choice what its effects upon us will be and to urge very

earnestly upon you the sort of speech and conduct which will best

safeguard the Nation against distress and disaster.

The effect of the war upon the United States will depend upon what

American citizens say and do. Every man who really loves America will

act and speak in the true spirit of neutrality, which is the spirit of

impartiality and fairness and friendliness to all concerned. The spirit

of the Nation in this critical matter will be determined largely by what

individuals and society and those gathered in public meetings do and

say, upon what newspapers and magazines contain, upon what ministers

utter in their pulpits, and men proclaim as their opinions on the

street.

The people of the United States are drawn from many nations, and chiefly

from the nations now at war. It is natural and inevitable that there

should be the utmost variety of sympathy and desire among them with

regard to the issues and circumstances of the conflict. Some will wish

one nation, others another, to succeed in the momentous struggle. It

will be easy to excite passion and difficult to allay it. Those

responsible for exciting it will assume a heavy responsibility,

responsibility for no less a thing than that the people of the United

States, whose love of their country and whose loyalty to its government

should unite them as Americans all, bound in honor and affection to

think first of her and her interests, may be divided in camps of hostile

opinion, hot against each other, involved in the war itself in impulse

and opinion if not in action.

Such divisions among us would be fatal to our peace of mind and might

seriously stand in the way of the proper performance of our duty as the

one great nation at peace, the one people holding itself ready to play a

part of impartial mediation and speak the counsels of peace and

accommodation, not as a partisan, but as a friend.

I venture, therefore, my fellow countrymen, to speak a solemn word of

warning to you against that deepest, most subtle, most essential breach

of neutrality which may spring out of partisanship, out of passionately

taking sides. The United States must be neutral in fact as well as in

name during these days that are to try men's souls. We must be impartial

in thought as well as in action, must put a curb upon our sentiments as

well as upon every transaction that might be construed as a preference

of one party to the struggle before another.

My thought is of America. I am speaking, I feel sure, the earnest wish

and purpose of every thoughtful American that this great country of

ours, which is, of course, the first in our thoughts and in our hearts,

should show herself in this time of peculiar trial a Nation fit beyond

others to exhibit the fine poise of undisturbed judgment, the dignity of

self-control, the efficiency of dispassionate action; a Nation that

neither sits in judgment upon others nor is disturbed in her own

counsels and which keeps herself fit and free to do what is honest and

disinterested and truly serviceable for the peace of the world.

Shall we not resolve to put upon ourselves the restraints which will

bring to our people the happiness and the great and lasting influence

for peace we covet for them?

August 18, 1914.

Footnotes:

[1] From the poem entitled "Wanted," by J. G. Holland.

[2] Edward Brooks.

[3] From "White Bees and Other Poems," by Henry van Dyke, copyright,

1909, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of Charles Scribner's

Sons, publishers.

[4] This lecture is found in full in Vol. XII (1915 Edition) of "Beacon

Lights of History," copyright 1902 by the publishers, Fords, Howard &

Hulbert, and is here used by special permission of Dr. Andrews and his

publishers.

[5] William McKinley.

[6] But one of these incidents is given in this extract.

[7] Henry Ward Beecher.

[8] John P. Newman.

POETRY OF PATRIOTISM

[Illustration: THE STATUE OF LIBERTY

New York Harbor]

[Illustration]

CONCORD HYMN[1]

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,

Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,

Here once the embattled farmers stood,

And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;

And Time the ruined bridge has swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,

We set to-day a votive stone;

That memory may their dead redeem,

When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free,

Bid Time and Nature gently spare

The shaft we raise to them and thee.

WARREN'S ADDRESS

Stand! the ground's your own, my braves!

Will ye give it up to slaves?

Will ye look for greener graves?

Hope ye mercy still?

What's the mercy despots feel?

Hear it in that battle peal!

Read it on yon bristling steel!

Ask it--ye who will.

Fear ye foes who kill for hire?

Will ye to your homes retire?

Look behind you!--they're afire!

And, before you, see

Who have done it! From the vale

On they come!--and will ye quail?

Leaden rain and iron hail

Let their welcome be!

In the God of battles trust!

Die we may--and die we must;

But, oh, where can dust to dust

Be consigned so well,

As where heaven its dews shall shed

On the martyred patriot's bed,

And the rocks shall raise their head,

Of his deeds to tell?

John Pierpont

PATRIOTISM

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land!

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,

As home his footsteps he hath turned

From wandering on a foreign strand!

If such there breathe, go, mark him well;

For him no minstrel raptures swell;

High though his titles, proud his name,

Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,

The wretch, concentered all in self,

Living, shall forfeit fair renown,

And, doubly dying, shall go down

To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,

Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:

Oh, say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,

Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,

What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses!

Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,

In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:

'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner, Oh, long may it wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion

A home and a country should leave us no more!

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution;

No refuge should save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:

And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and war's desolation.

Blest with victory and peace, may the Heaven-rescued land

Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto, "In God is our trust":

And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Francis Scott Key

MY COUNTRY

My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died,

Land of the pilgrims' pride,

From every mountain side

Let freedom ring!

My native country! Thee--

Land of the noble free,--

Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture thrills

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song.

Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break,--

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing;

Long may our land be bright

With freedom's holy light;

Protect us by Thy might,

Great God, our King!

Samuel F. Smith

THE AMERICAN FLAG

When Freedom, from her mountain height,

Unfurled her standard to the air,

She tore the azure robe of night,

And set the stars of glory there.

She mingled with its gorgeous dyes

The milky baldric of the skies,

And striped its pure celestial white

With streakings of the morning light.

Then, from his mansion in the sun,

She called her eagle bearer down,

And gave into his mighty hand

The symbol of her chosen land.

Flag of the free heart's hope and home,

By angel hands to valor given!

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.

Forever float that standard sheet!

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,

With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us!

Joseph Rodman Drake

SONG OF MARION'S MEN

Our band is few but true and tried,

Our leader frank and bold;

The British soldier trembles

When Marion's name is told.

Our fortress is the good greenwood,

Our tent the cypress tree;

We know the forest round us,

As seamen know the sea.

We know its walls of thorny vines,

Its glades of reedy grass,

Its safe and silent islands

Within the dark morass.

Woe to the English soldiery

That little dread us near!

On them shall light at midnight

A strange and sudden fear

When, waking to their tents on fire,

They grasp their arms in vain,

And they who stand to face us

Are beat to earth again;

And they who fly in terror deem

A mighty host behind,

And hear the tramp of thousands

Upon the hollow wind.

Then sweet the hour that brings release

From danger and from toil:

We talk the battle over,

And share the battle's spoil.

The woodland rings with laugh and shout,

As if a hunt were up,

And woodland flowers are gathered

To crown the soldier's cup.

With merry songs we mock the wind

That in the pine-top grieves,

And slumber long and sweetly

On beds of oaken leaves.

Well knows the fair and friendly moon

The band that Marion leads--

The glitter of their rifles,

The scampering of their steeds.

'Tis life to guide the fiery barb

Across the moonlight plain;

'Tis life to feel the night wind

That lifts his tossing mane.

A moment in the British camp--

A moment--and away,

Back to the pathless forest,

Before the peep of day.

Grave men there are by broad Santee,

Grave men with hoary hairs;

Their hearts are all with Marion,

For Marion are their prayers.

And lovely ladies greet our band,

With kindliest welcoming,

With smiles like those of summer,

And tears like those of spring.

For them we wear these trusty arms,

And lay them down no more

Till we have driven the Briton,

Forever from our shore.

William Cullen Bryant

THE OLD CONTINENTALS

In their ragged regimentals

Stood the old Continentals,

Yielding not,

When the grenadiers were lunging,

And like hail fell the plunging

Cannon shot;

When the files

Of the isles,

From the smoky night encampment, bore the banner of the rampant

Unicorn;

And grummer, grummer, grummer, rolled the roll of the drummer

Through the morn!

Then with eyes to the front all,

And with guns horizontal,

Stood our sires;

And the balls whistled deadly,

And in streams flashing redly,

Blazed the fires:

As the roar

On the shore

Swept the strong battle breakers o'er the green-sodded acres

Of the plain;

And louder, louder, louder, cracked the black gunpowder,

Cracking amain!

Now like smiths at their forges

Worked the red St. George's

Cannoneers,

And the villainous saltpetre

Rung a fierce, discordant meter

Round their ears;

As the swift

Storm drift,

With hot sweeping anger, came the horseguards' clangor

On our flanks;

Then higher, higher, higher, burned the old-fashioned fire

Through the ranks!

Then the bareheaded colonel

Galloped through the white infernal

Powder cloud;

And his broadsword was swinging,

And his brazen throat was ringing

Trumpet-loud;

Then the blue

Bullets flew,

And the trooper jackets redden at the touch of the leaden

Rifle breath;

And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the iron six-pounder,

Hurling death!

Guy Humphreys McMaster

THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL

He lay upon his dying bed;

His eye was growing dim,

When with a feeble voice he called

His weeping son to him:

"Weep not, my boy!" the vet'ran said,

"I bow to Heaven's high will--

But quickly from yon antlers bring

The sword of Bunker Hill."

The sword was brought, the soldier's eye

Lit with a sudden flame;

And as he grasped the ancient blade,

He murmured Warren's name;

Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold--

But what is richer still,

I leave you, mark me, mark me now--

The sword of Bunker Hill.

"'Twas on that dread, immortal day,

I dared the Briton's band,

A captain raised this blade on me--

I tore it from his hand:

And while the glorious battle raged,

It lightened freedom's will--

For, boy, the God of freedom blessed

The sword of Bunker Hill.

"Oh, keep the sword!"--his accents broke--

A smile--and he was dead--

But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade

Upon that dying bed.

The son remains; the sword remains--

Its glory growing still--

And twenty millions bless the sire,

And sword of Bunker Hill.

William Ross Wallace

LIBERTY TREE[2]

In a chariot of light from the regions of day,

The Goddess of Liberty came;

Ten thousand celestials directed the way,

And hither conducted the dame.

A fair budding branch from the gardens above,

Where millions with millions agree,

She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love,

And the plant she named _Liberty Tree_.

The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground,

Like a native it flourished and bore;

The fame of its fruit drew the nation's around,

To seek out this peaceable shore.

Unmindful of names or distinctions they came,

For freemen like brothers agree;

With one spirit endued, they one friendship pursued,

And their temple was _Liberty Tree_.

Beneath this fair tree, like the patriarchs of old,

Their bread in contentment they ate

Unvexed with the troubles of silver and gold,

The cares of the grand and the great.

With timber and tar they Old England supplied,

And supported her power on the sea;

Her battles they fought, without getting a groat,

For the honor of _Liberty Tree_.

But hear, O ye swains, 'tis a tale most profane,

How all the tyrannical powers,

Kings, Commons and Lords, are uniting amain,

To cut down this guardian of ours;

From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms,

Through the land let the sound of it flee,

Let the far and the near, all unite with a cheer,

In defense of our _Liberty Tree_.

Thomas Paine

[Illustration]

THE RISING IN 1776.[3]

Out of the North the wild news came,

Far flashing on its wings of flame,

Swift as the boreal light which flies

At midnight through the startled skies.

And there was tumult in the air,

The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat,

And through the wide land everywhere

The answering tread of hurrying feet;

While the first oath of Freedom's gun,

Came on the blast from Lexington;

And Concord, roused, no longer tame,

Forgot her old baptismal name,

Made bare her patriot arm of power,

And swelled the discord of the hour.

Within its shade of elm and oak

The church of Berkeley Manor stood;

There Sunday found the rural folk,

And some esteemed of gentle blood.

In vain their feet with loitering tread

Passed 'mid the graves where rank is naught;

All could not read the lesson taught

In that republic of the dead.

How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk,

The vale with peace and sunshine full

Where all the happy people walk,

Decked in their homespun flax and wool!

Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom;

And every maid with simple art,

Wears on her breast, like her own heart,

A bud whose depths are all perfume;

While every garment's gentle stir

Is breathing rose and lavender.

The pastor came; his snowy locks

Hallowed his brow of thought and care;

And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks,

He led into the house of prayer.

The pastor rose; the prayer was strong;

The psalm was warrior David's song;

The text, a few short words of might--

"The Lord of hosts shall arm the right!"

He spoke of wrongs too long endured,

Of sacred rights to be secured;

Then from his patriot tongue of flame

The startling words for Freedom came.

The stirring sentences he spake

Compelled the heart to glow or quake,

And, rising on his theme's broad wing,

And grasping in his nervous hand

The imaginary battle brand,

In face of death he dared to fling

Defiance to a tyrant king.

Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed

In eloquence of attitude,

Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher;

Then swept his kindling glance of fire

From startled pew to breathless choir;

When suddenly his mantle wide

His hands impatient flung aside,

And, lo! he met their wondering eyes

Complete in all a warrior's guise.

A moment there was awful pause--

When Berkeley cried, "Cease, traitor! cease!

God's temple is the house of peace!"

The other shouted, "Nay, not so,

When God is with our righteous cause;

His holiest places then are ours,

His temples are our forts and towers.

That frown upon the tyrant foe;

In this, the dawn of Freedom's day,

There is a time to fight and pray!"

And now before the open door--

The warrior priest had ordered so--

The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar

Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er,

Its long reverberating blow,

So loud and clear, it seemed the ear

Of dusty death must wake and hear.

And there the startling drum and fife

Fired the living with fiercer life;

While overhead, with wild increase,

Forgetting its ancient toll of peace,

The great bell swung as ne'er before;

It seemed as it would never cease;

And every word its ardor flung

From off its jubilant iron tongue

Was, "War! War! War!"

"Who dares?"--this was the patriot's cry,

As striding from the desk he came--

"Come out with me, in Freedom's name,

For her to live, for her to die?"

A hundred hands flung up reply,

A hundred voices answered, "I!"

Thomas Buchanan Read

AMERICA[4]

Foreseen in the vision of sages,

Foretold when martyrs bled,

She was born of the longing of ages,

By the truth of the noble dead

And the faith of the living fed!

No blood in her lightest veins

Frets at remembered chains,

Nor shame of bondage has bowed her head.

In her form and features still

The unblenching Puritan will,

Cavalier honor, Huguenot grace,

The Quaker truth and sweetness,

And the strength of the danger-girdled race

Of Holland, blend in a proud completeness.

From the homes of all, where her being began,

She took what she gave to Man;

Justice, that knew no station,

Belief, as soul decreed,

Free air for aspiration,

Free force for independent deed!

She takes, but to give again,

As the sea returns the rivers in rain;

And gathers the chosen of her seed

From the hunted of every crown and creed.

Her Germany dwells by a gentler Rhine;

Her Ireland sees the old sunburst shine;

Her France pursues some dream divine;

Her Norway keeps his mountain pine;

Her Italy waits by the western brine;

And, broad-based under all,

Is planted England's oaken-hearted mood,

As rich in fortitude

As e'er went worldward from the island-wall!

Fused in her candid light,

To one strong race all races here unite;

Tongues melt in hers, hereditary foemen

Forget their sword and slogan, kith and clan.

'Twas glory, once to be a Roman:

She makes it glory, now, to be a man!

Bayard Taylor

THE BLUE AND THE GRAY

By the flow of the inland river,

Whence the fleets of iron have fled,

Where the blades of the grave grass quiver,

Asleep are the ranks of the dead:

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Under the one, the Blue,

Under the other, the Gray.

These in the robings of glory,

Those in the gloom of defeat,

All with the battle blood gory,

In the dusk of eternity meet:

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Under the laurel, the Blue,

Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours

The desolate mourners go,

Lovingly laden with flowers

Alike for the friend and the foe:

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Under the roses, the Blue,

Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor

The morning sun rays fall,

With a touch impartially tender,

On the blossoms blooming for all:

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Broidered with gold, the Blue,

Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,

On forest and field of grain,

With an equal murmur falleth

The cooling drip of the rain:

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Wet with the rain, the Blue,

Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,

The generous deed was done,

In the storm of the years that are fading,

No braver battle was won

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Under the blossoms, the Blue,

Under the garlands, the Gray.

No more shall the war cry sever,

Or the winding rivers be red;

They banish our anger forever

When they laurel the graves of our dead!

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day;

Love and tears for the Blue,

Tears and love for the Gray.

Francis Miles Finch

ABRAHAM LINCOLN[5]

Life may be given in many ways,

And loyalty to Truth be sealed

As bravely in the closet as the field,

So bountiful is Fate;

But then to stand beside her,

When craven churls deride her,

To front a lie in arms and not to yield,

This shows, methinks, God's plan

And measure of a stalwart man,

Limbed like the old heroic breeds,

Who stand self-poised on manhood's solid earth,

Not forced to frame excuses for his birth,

Fed from within with all the strength he needs.

Such was he, our martyr chief,

Whom late the Nation he had led,

With ashes on her head,

Wept with the passion of an angry grief:

Forgive me, if from present things I turn

To speak what in my heart will beat and burn,

And hang my wreath on his world-honored urn.

Nature, they say, doth dote,

And cannot make a man

Save on some worn-out plan,

Repeating us by rote:

For him her Old-World molds aside she threw,

And, choosing sweet clay from the breast

Of the unexhausted West,

With stuff untainted shaped a hero new,

Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.

How beautiful to see

Once more a shepherd of mankind indeed,

Who loved his charge, but never loved to lead;

One whose meek flock the people joyed to be,

Not lured by any cheat of birth,

But by his clear-grained human worth,

And brave old wisdom of sincerity!

They knew that outward grace is dust;

They could not choose but trust

In that sure-footed mind's unfaltering skill,

And supple-tempered will

That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust.

His was no lonely mountain peak of mind,

Thrusting to thin air o'er our cloudy bars,

A sea mark now, now lost in vapor's blind;

Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined,

Fruitful and friendly for all human kind,

Yet also nigh to Heaven and loved of loftiest stars.

Nothing of Europe here,

Or, then, of Europe fronting mornward still,

Ere any names of serf and peer

Could Nature's equal scheme deface

And thwart her genial will;

Here was a type of the true elder race,

And one of Plutarch's men talked with us face to face.

I praise him not; it were too late;

And some innative weakness there must be

In him who condescends to victory

Such as the Present gives, and cannot wait,

Safe in himself as in a fate.

So always firmly he:

He knew to bide his time,

And can his fame abide,

Still patient in his simple faith sublime,

Till the wise years decide.

Great captains, with their guns and drums,

Disturb our judgment for the hour,

But at last silence comes!

These all are gone, and standing like a tower,

Our children shall behold his fame,

The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man,

Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame,

New birth of our new soil, the first American.

James Russell Lowell

THE FLAG GOES BY

Hats off!

Along the street there comes

A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,

A flash of color beneath the sky:

Hats off!

The flag is passing by!

Blue and crimson and white it shines,

Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines,

Hats off!

The colors before us fly;

But more than the flag is passing by.

Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,

Fought to make and save the State:

Weary marches and sinking ships;

Cheers of victory on dying lips;

Days of plenty and years of peace;

March of a strong land's swift increase;

Equal justice, right, and law,

Stately honor and reverend awe;

Sign of a nation, great and strong

To ward her people from foreign wrong:

Pride and glory and honor--all

Live in the colors to stand or fall.

Hats off!

Along the street there comes

A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;

And loyal hearts are beating high:

Hats off!

The flag is passing by!

Henry Holcomb Bennett

THE SHIP OF STATE

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!

Sail on, O UNION, strong and great!

Humanity with all its fears,

With all the hopes of future years,

Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

We know what Master laid thy keel,

What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,

Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,

What anvils rang, what hammers beat,

In what a forge and what a heat

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!

Fear not each sudden sound and shock,

'Tis of the wave and not the rock;

'Tis but the flapping of the sail,

And not a rent made by the gale!

In spite of rock and tempest's roar

In spite of false lights on the shore,

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,

Are all with thee--are all with thee!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

THE NAME OF OLD GLORY[6]

Old Glory! say who,

By the ships and the crew,

And the long, blended ranks of the grey and the blue--

Who gave you, Old Glory, the name that you bear

With such pride everywhere

As you cast yourself free to the rapturous air

And leap out full length as we're wanting you to?

Who gave you that name, with the ring of the same,

And the honor and fame so becoming to you?--

Your stripes streaked in ripples of white and of red,

With your stars at their glittering best overhead--

By day or by night,

Their delightfulest light

Laughing down from their little square heaven of blue!

Who gave you the name of Old Glory?--say who--

Who gave you the name of Old Glory?

The old banner lifted, and faltering then,

In vague lisps and whispers fell silent again.

Old Glory,--speak out!--we are asking about

How you happened to "favor" a name, so to say,

That sounds so familiar and careless and gay

As we cheer it and shout in our wild, breezy way--

We--the _crowd_, every man of us, calling you that--

We--Tom, Dick and Harry--each swinging his hat--

And hurrahing "Old Glory," like you were our kind,

When--Lord--we all know we're as common as sin!

And yet it just seems like you _humor_ us all

And waft us your thanks as we hail you and fall

Into line, with you over us, waving us on

Where our glorified, sanctified betters have gone--

And this is the reason we're wanting to know--

(And we're wanting it so!

Where our own fathers went, we are willing to go)

Who gave you the name of Old Glory--Oho!

Who gave you the name of Old Glory?

The old flag unfurled in a billowy thrill

For an instant, then wistfully sighed and was still.

Old Glory--the story we're wanting to hear

Is what the plain facts of your christening were--

For your name--just to hear it,

Repeat it, and cheer it, 's a tang to the spirit

As salt as a tear;--

And seeing you fly, and the boys marching by,

There's a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye

And an aching to live for you always--or die,

If, dying, we still keep you waving on high.

And so, by our love

For you, floating above,

And the scars of all wars and the sorrows thereof,

Who gave you the name of Old Glory, and why

Are we thrilled at the name of Old Glory?

Then the old banner leaped, like a sail in the blast,

And fluttered an audible answer at last.

And it spake, with a shake of the voice, and it said:--

By the driven snow-white and the living blood-red

Of my bars, and their heaven of stars overhead--

By the symbol conjoined of them all, skyward cast,

As I float from the steeple, or flap at the mast,

Or droop o'er the sod where the long grasses nod,--

My name is as old as the glory of God,

... So I came by the name of Old Glory.

James Whitcomb Riley

Footnotes:

[1] By Ralph Waldo Emerson, at the dedication, April 19, 1836, of the

monument erected at Concord in honor of the patriots who fell in the

battle of Lexington sixty-one years before.

[2] Published in the Pennsylvania Magazine, 1775.

[3] Used with the courteous permission of the publishers, The J. B.

Lippincott Co., Philadelphia.

[4] From the National Ode, July 4, 1876.

[5] From the Ode recited at the Harvard Commemoration, July 21, 1865.

[6] From the Biographical Edition of the Complete Works of James

Whitcomb Riley. Copyright 1913. Used by special permission of the

publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company.