The nature and constitution of society and government in this country

are interesting topics, to which I would devote what remains of the

time allowed to this occasion. Of our system of government the first

thing to be said is, that it is really and practically a free system.

It originates entirely with the people, and rests on no other foundation

than their assent. To judge of its actual operation, it is not enough

to look merely at the form of its construction. The practical character

of government depends often on a variety of considerations, besides the

abstract frame of its constitutional organization. Among these are the

condition and tenure of property; the laws regulating its alienation

and descent; the presence or absence of a military power; an armed

or unarmed yeomanry; the spirit of the age, and the degree of

general intelligence. In these respects it cannot be denied that the

circumstances of this country are most favorable to the hope of

maintaining the government of a great nation on principles entirely

popular. In the absence of military power, the nature of government

must essentially depend on the manner in which property is holden and

distributed. There is a natural influence belonging to property, whether

it exists in many hands or few; and it is on the rights of property that

both despotism and unrestrained popular violence ordinarily commence

their attacks. Our ancestors began their system of government here

under a condition of comparative equality in regard to wealth, and

their early laws were of a nature to favor and continue this equality.

A republican form of government rests not more on political

constitutions, than on those laws which regulate the descent and

transmission of property. Governments like ours could not have been

maintained, where property was holden according to the principles of the

feudal system; nor, on the other hand, could the feudal constitution

possibly exist with us. Our New England ancestors brought hither no

great capitals from Europe; and if they had, there was nothing

productive in which they could have been invested. They left behind them

the whole feudal policy of the other continent. They broke away at once

from the system of military service established in the Dark Ages, and

which continues, down even to the present time, more or less to affect

the condition of property all over Europe. They came to a new country.

There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no tenants rendering

service. The whole soil was unreclaimed from barbarism. They were

themselves, either from their original condition, or from the necessity

of their common interest, nearly on a general level in respect to

property. Their situation demanded a parcelling out and division of the

lands, and it may be fairly said, that this necessary act _fixed the

future frame and form of their government_. The character of their

political institutions was determined by the fundamental laws respecting

property. The laws rendered estates divisible among sons and daughters.

The right of primogeniture, at first limited and curtailed, was

afterwards abolished. The property was all freehold. The entailment of

estates, long trusts, and the other processes for fettering and tying up

inheritances, were not applicable to the condition of society, and

seldom made use of. On the contrary, alienation of the land was every

way facilitated, even to the subjecting of it to every species of debt.

The establishment of public registries, and the simplicity of our forms

of conveyance, have greatly facilitated the change of real estate from

one proprietor to another. The consequence of all these causes has been,

a great subdivision of the soil, and a great equality of condition; the

true basis, most certainly, of a popular government. "If the people,"

says Harrington, "hold three parts in four of the territory, it is plain

there can neither be any single person nor nobility able to dispute the

government with them; in this case, therefore, _except force be

interposed_, they govern themselves."

The history of other nations may teach us how favorable to public

liberty are the division of the soil into small freeholds, and a system

of laws, of which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, to

produce and to preserve a degree of equality of property. It has been

estimated, if I mistake not, that about the time of Henry the Seventh

four fifths of the land in England was holden by the great barons and

ecclesiastics. The effects of a growing commerce soon afterwards began

to break in on this state of things, and before the Revolution, in 1688,

a vast change had been wrought. It may be thought probable, that, for

the last half-century, the process of subdivision in England has been

retarded, if not reversed; that the great weight of taxation has

compelled many of the lesser freeholders to dispose of their estates,

and to seek employment in the army and navy, in the professions of civil

life, in commerce, or in the colonies. The effect of this on the British

constitution cannot but be most unfavorable. A few large estates grow

larger; but the number of those who have no estates also increases; and

there may be danger, lest the inequality of property become so great,

that those who possess it may be dispossessed by force; in other words,

that the government may be overturned.

A most interesting experiment of the effect of a subdivision of property

on government is now making in France. It is understood, that the law

regulating the transmission of property in that country, now divides it,

real and personal, among all the children equally, both sons and

daughters; and that there is, also, a very great restraint on the power

of making dispositions of property by will. It has been supposed, that

the effects of this might probably be, in time, to break up the soil

into such small subdivisions, that the proprietors would be too poor to

resist the encroachments of executive power. I think far otherwise. What

is lost in individual wealth will be more than gained in numbers, in

intelligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. If, indeed, only one or a

few landholders were to resist the crown, like the barons of England,

they must, of course, be great and powerful landholders, with multitudes

of retainers, to promise success. But if the proprietors of a given

extent of territory are summoned to resistance, there is no reason to

believe that such resistance would be less forcible, or less successful,

because the number of such proprietors happened to be great. Each would

perceive his own importance, and his own interest, and would feel that

natural elevation of character which the consciousness of property

inspires. A common sentiment would unite all, and numbers would not only

add strength, but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a

vast military force, under the direction of an hereditary executive

government; and military power, it is possible, may overthrow any

government. It is in vain, however, in this period of the world, to look

for security against military power to the arm of the great landholders.

That notion is derived from a state of things long since past; a state

in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand against the

sovereign and his retainers, himself but the greatest baron. But at

present, what could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of

disciplined troops? Other securities, therefore, against the prevalence

of military power must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so

situated as that any purpose of national defence requires, ordinarily

and constantly, such a military force as might seriously endanger our

liberties.

In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which

I have alluded, I would, presumptously perhaps, hazard a conjecture,

that, if the government do not change the law, the law in half a century

will change the government; and that this change will be, not in favor

of the power of the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but

against it. Those writers only reason upon what they think correct

general principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want

of experience. Here we have had that experience; and we know that a

multitude of small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that

enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a

formidable, but an invincible power.[47]

The true principle of a free and popular government would seem to be, so

to construct it as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority,

an interest in its preservation; to found it, as other things are

founded, on men's interest. The stability of government demands that

those who desire its continuance should be more powerful than those who

desire its dissolution. This power, of course, is not always to be

measured by mere numbers. Education, wealth, talents, are all parts and

elements of the general aggregate of power; but numbers, nevertheless,

constitute ordinarily the most important consideration, unless, indeed,

there be _a military force_ in the hands of the few, by which they can

control the many. In this country we have actually existing systems of

government, in the maintenance of which, it should seem, a great

majority, both in numbers and in other means of power and influence,

must see their interest. But this state of things is not brought about

solely by written political constitutions, or the mere manner of

organizing the government; but also by the laws which regulate the

descent and transmission of property. The freest government, if it could

exist, would not be long acceptable, if the tendency of the laws were to

create a rapid accumulation of property in few hands, and to render the

great mass of the population dependent and penniless. In such a case,

the popular power would be likely to break in upon the rights of

property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the

exercise of popular power. Universal suffrage, for example, could not

long exist in a community where there was great inequality of property.

The holders of estates would be obliged, in such case, in some way to

restrain the right of suffrage, or else such right of suffrage would,

before long, divide the property. In the nature of things, those who

have not property, and see their neighbors possess much more than they

think them to need, cannot be favorable to laws made for the protection

of property. When this class becomes numerous, it grows clamorous. It

looks on property as its prey and plunder, and is naturally ready, at

all times, for violence and revolution.

It would seem, then, to be the part of political wisdom to found

government on property; and to establish such distribution of property,

by the laws which regulate its transmission and alienation, as to

interest the great majority of society in the support of the government.

This is, I imagine, the true theory and the actual practice of our

republican institutions. With property divided as we have it, no other

government than that of a republic could be maintained, even were we

foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, therefore, to expect a

long continuance of our system. Party and passion, doubtless, may

prevail at times, and much temporary mischief be done. Even modes and

forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution

in regard to property must take place, before our governments can be

moved from their republican basis, unless they be violently struck off

by military power. The people possess the property, more emphatically

than it could ever be said of the people of any other country, and they

can have no interest to overturn a government which protects that

property by equal laws.

Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong

tendencies towards the production of a dead and uninteresting level in

society. Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite

diversities in the characters and fortunes of individuals. Talent,

activity, industry, and enterprise tend at all times to produce

inequality and distinction; and there is room still for the accumulation

of wealth, with its great advantages, to all reasonable and useful

extent. It has been often urged against the state of society in America,

that it furnishes no class of men of fortune and leisure. This may be

partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the evil, if it be one,

would affect rather the progress of taste and literature, than the

general prosperity of the people. But the promotion of taste and

literature cannot be primary objects of political institutions; and if

they could, it might be doubted whether, in the long course of things,

as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of general knowledge, as is

lost by diminishing the number of those who are enabled by fortune and

leisure to devote themselves exclusively to scientific and literary

pursuits. However this may be, it is to be considered that it is the

spirit of our system to be equal and general, and if there be particular

disadvantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced

by the benefits which weigh against them. The important concerns of

society are generally conducted, in all countries, by the men of

business and practical ability; and even in matters of taste and

literature, the advantages of mere leisure are liable to be overrated.

If there exist adequate means of education and a love of letters be

excited, that love will find its way to the object of its desire,

through the crowd and pressure of the most busy society.

Connected with this division of property, and the consequent

participation of the great mass of people in its possession and

enjoyments, is the system of representation, which is admirably

accommodated to our condition, better understood among us, and more

familiarly and extensively practised, in the higher and in the lower

departments of government, than it has been by any other people. Great

facility has been given to this in New England by the early division

of the country into townships or small districts, in which all

concerns of local police are regulated, and in which representatives

to the legislature are elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of

these little bodies. They are so many councils or parliaments, in

which common interests are discussed, and useful knowledge acquired

and communicated.

The division of governments into departments, and the division, again,

of the legislative department into two chambers, are essential

provisions in our system. This last, although not new in itself, yet

seems to be new in its application to governments wholly popular. The

Grecian republics, it is plain, knew nothing of it; and in Rome, the

check and balance of legislative power, such as it was, lay between the

people and the senate. Indeed, few things are more difficult than to

ascertain accurately the true nature and construction of the Roman

commonwealth. The relative power of the senate and the people, of the

consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all times the

same, nor at any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cicero,

indeed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and

a balance of the constitution, in that beautiful passage, in which he

compares the democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth. "O morem

preclarum, disciplinamque, quam a majoribus accepimus, si quidem

teneremus! sed nescio quo pacto jam de manibus elabitur. Nullam enim

illi nostri sapientissimi et sanctissimi viri vim concionis esse

voluerunt, quae scisseret plebs, aut quae populus juberet; summota

concione, distributis partibus, tributim et centuriatim descriptis

ordinibus, classibus, aetatibus, auditis auctoribus, re multos dies

promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Graecorum autem totae

respublicae sedentis concionis temeritate administrantur."[48]

But at what time this wise system existed in this perfection at Rome, no

proofs remain to show. Her constitution, originally framed for a

monarchy, never seemed to be adjusted in its several parts after the

expulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an

uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. The patrician and plebeian orders,

instead of being matched and joined, each in its just place and

proportion, to sustain the fabric of the state, were rather like hostile

powers, in perpetual conflict. With us, an attempt has been made, and so

far not without success, to divide representation into chambers, and, by

difference of age, character, qualification, or mode of election, to

establish salutary checks, in governments altogether elective.

Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet advert

to another most interesting topic,--the Free Schools. In this

particular, New England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a

peculiar character. She early adopted, and has constantly maintained the

principle, that it is the undoubted right and the bounden duty of

government to provide for the instruction of all youth. That which is

elsewhere left to chance or to charity, we secure by law.[49] For the

purpose of public instruction, we hold every man subject to taxation in

proportion to his property, and we look not to the question, whether he

himself have, or have not, children to be benefited by the education for

which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, by

which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. We seek

to prevent in some measure the extension of the penal code, by inspiring

a salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of knowledge in an

early age. We strive to excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense

of character, by enlarging the capacity and increasing the sphere of

intellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, we seek, as far as

possible, to purify the whole moral atmosphere; to keep good sentiments

uppermost, and to turn the strong current of feeling and opinion, as

well as the censures of the law and the denunciations of religion,

against immorality and crime. We hope for a security beyond the law, and

above the law, in the prevalence of an enlightened and well-principled

moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, when, in the

villages and farm-houses of New England, there may be undisturbed sleep

within unbarred doors. And knowing that our government rests directly on

the public will, in order that we may preserve it we endeavor to give a

safe and proper direction to that public will. We do not, indeed, expect

all men to be philosophers or statesmen; but we confidently trust, and

our expectation of the duration of our system of government rests on

that trust, that, by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and

virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may be secure, as well against

open violence and overthrow, as against the slow, but sure, undermining

of licentiousness.

We know that, at the present time, an attempt is making in the English

Parliament to provide by law for the education of the poor, and that a

gentleman of distinguished character (Mr. Brougham) has taken the lead

in presenting a plan to government for carrying that purpose into

effect. And yet, although the representatives of the three kingdoms

listened to him with astonishment as well as delight, we hear no

principles with which we ourselves have not been familiar from youth; we

see nothing in the plan but an approach towards that system which has

been established in New England for more than a century and a half. It

is said that in England not more than _one child in fifteen_ possesses

the means of being taught to read and write; in Wales, _one in twenty_;

in France, until lately, when some improvement was made, not more than

_one in thirty-five_. Now, it is hardly too strong to say, that in New

England _every child possesses_ such means. It would be difficult to

find an instance to the contrary, unless where it should be owing to the

negligence of the parent; and, in truth, the means are actually used and

enjoyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who

cannot both read and write, is very seldom to be found. Who can make

this comparison, or contemplate this spectacle, without delight and a

feeling of just pride? Does any history show property more beneficently

applied? Did any government ever subject the property of those who have

estates to a burden, for a purpose more favorable to the poor, or more

useful to the whole community?

A conviction of the importance of public instruction was one of the

earliest sentiments of our ancestors. No lawgiver of ancient or modern

times has expressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than

the early records of the Colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here.

Assembled on this very spot, a hundred and fifty-three years ago, the

legislature of this Colony declared, "Forasmuch as the maintenance of

good literature doth much tend to the advancement of the weal and

flourishing state of societies and republics, this Court doth therefore

order, that in whatever township in this government, consisting of fifty

families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained to teach a grammar

school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, to be raised

by rate on all the inhabitants."

Having provided that all youth should be instructed in the elements of

learning by the institution of free schools, our ancestors had yet

another duty to perform. Men were to be educated for the professions and

the public. For this purpose they founded the University, and with

incredible zeal and perseverance they cherished and supported it,

through all trials and discouragements.[50] On the subject of the

University, it is not possible for a son of New England to think without

pleasure, or to speak without emotion. Nothing confers more honor on the

State where it is established, or more utility on the country at large.

A respectable university is an establishment which must be the work of

time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new institution could

possess character and respectability at once. We owe deep obligation to

our ancestors, who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, the

work of building up this institution.

Although established in a different government, the Colony of Plymouth

manifested warm friendship for Harvard College. At an early period, its

government took measures to promote a general subscription throughout

all the towns in this Colony, in aid of its small funds. Other colleges

were subsequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability

of the people allowed; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of

education at present enjoyed in New England are not only adequate to the

diffusion of the elements of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient

also for respectable attainments in literature and the sciences.

Lastly, our ancestors established their system of government on morality

and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be

trusted on any other foundation than religious principle, nor any

government be secure which is not supported by moral habits. Living

under the heavenly light of revelation, they hoped to find all the

social dispositions, all the duties which men owe to each other and to

society, enforced and performed. Whatever makes men good Christians,

makes them good citizens. Our fathers came here to enjoy their religion

free and unmolested; and, at the end of two centuries, there is nothing

upon which we can pronounce more confidently, nothing of which we can

express a more deep and earnest conviction, than of the inestimable

importance of that religion to man, both in regard to this life and that

which is to come.

If the blessings of our political and social condition have not been too

highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty

which they impose upon us. We hold these institutions of government,

religion, and learning, to be transmitted, as well as enjoyed. We are in

the line of conveyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the

spirit and efforts of our ancestors is to be communicated to our

children.

We are bound to maintain public liberty, and, by the example of our own

systems, to convince the world that order and law, religion and

morality, the rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and the

rights of property, may all be preserved and secured, in the most

perfect manner, by a government entirely and purely elective. If we fail

in this, our disaster will be signal, and will furnish an argument,

stronger than has yet been found, in support of those opinions which

maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but power and

coercion. As far as experience may show errors in our establishments, we

are bound to correct them; and if any practices exist contrary to the

principles of justice and humanity within the reach of our laws or our

influence, we are inexcusable if we do not exert ourselves to restrain

and abolish them.

I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that the land is not yet

wholly free from the contamination of a traffic, at which every feeling

of humanity must for ever revolt,--I mean the African slave-trade.[51]

Neither public sentiment, nor the law, has hitherto been able entirely

to put an end to this odious and abominable trade. At the moment when

God in his mercy has blessed the Christian world with a universal peace,

there is reason to fear, that, to the disgrace of the Christian name and

character, new efforts are making for the extension of this trade by

subjects and citizens of Christian states, in whose hearts there dwell

no sentiments of humanity or of justice, and over whom neither the fear

of God nor the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of our law,

the African slave-trader is a pirate and a felon; and in the sight of

Heaven, an offender far beyond the ordinary depth of human guilt. There

is no brighter page of our history, than that which records the measures

which have been adopted by the government at an early day, and at

different times since, for the suppression of this traffic; and I would

call on all the true sons of New England to cooeperate with the laws of

man, and the justice of Heaven. If there be, within the extent of our

knowledge or influence, any participation in this traffic, let us pledge

ourselves here, upon the rock of Plymouth, to extirpate and destroy it.

It is not fit that the land of the Pilgrims should bear the shame

longer. I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke of the furnaces

where manacles and fetters are still forged for human limbs. I see the

visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of

hell, foul and dark, as may become the artificers of such instruments of

misery and torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be of

New England. Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the

Christian world; let it be put out of the circle of human sympathies and

human regards, and let civilized man henceforth have no communion with

it.

I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice, and all who minister

at her altar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of

the law. I invoke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its

denunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions to the

authority of human laws. If the pulpit be silent whenever or wherever

there may be a sinner bloody with this guilt within the hearing of its

voice, the pulpit is false to its trust. I call on the fair merchant,

who has reaped his harvest upon the seas, that he assist in scourging

from those seas the worst pirates that ever infested them. That ocean,

which seems to wave with a gentle magnificence to waft the burden of an

honest commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a conscious

pride,--that ocean, which hardy industry regards, even when the winds

have ruffled its surface, as a field of grateful toil,--what is it to

the victim of this oppression, when he is brought to its shores, and

looks forth upon it, for the first time, loaded with chains, and

bleeding with stripes? What is it to him but a wide-spread prospect of

suffering, anguish, and death? Nor do the skies smile longer, nor is the

air longer fragrant to him. The sun is cast down from heaven. An inhuman

and accursed traffic has cut him off in his manhood, or in his youth,

from every enjoyment belonging to his being, and every blessing which

his Creator intended for him.

The Christian communities send forth their emissaries of religion and

letters, who stop, here and there, along the coast of the vast continent

of Africa, and with painful and tedious efforts make some almost

imperceptible progress in the communication of knowledge, and in the

general improvement of the natives who are immediately about them. Not

thus slow and imperceptible is the transmission of the vices and bad

passions which the subjects of Christian states carry to the land. The

slave-trade having touched the coast, its influence and its evils

spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, making savage wars

more savage and more frequent, and adding new and fierce passions to the

contests of barbarians.

I pursue this topic no further, except again to say, that all

Christendom, being now blessed with peace, is bound by every thing which

belongs to its character, and to the character of the present age, to

put a stop to this inhuman and disgraceful traffic.

We are bound, not only to maintain the general principles of public

liberty, but to support also those existing forms of government which

have so well secured its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the public

prosperity. It is now more than thirty years that these States have been

united under the Federal Constitution, and whatever fortune may await

them hereafter, it is impossible that this period of their history

should not be regarded as distinguished by signal prosperity and

success. They must be sanguine indeed, who can hope for benefit from

change. Whatever division of the public judgment may have existed in

relation to particular measures of the government, all must agree, one

should think, in the opinion, that in its general course it has been

eminently productive of public happiness. Its most ardent friends could

not well have hoped from it more than it has accomplished; and those who

disbelieved or doubted ought to feel less concern about predictions

which the event has not verified, than pleasure in the good which has

been obtained. Whoever shall hereafter write this part of our history,

although he may see occasional errors or defects, will be able to record

no great failure in the ends and objects of government. Still less will

he be able to record any series of lawless and despotic acts, or any

successful usurpation. His page will contain no exhibition of provinces

depopulated, of civil authority habitually trampled down by military

power, or of a community crushed by the burden of taxation. He will

speak, rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness

advanced; of increased revenue, and population augmented beyond all

example; of the growth of commerce, manufactures, and the arts; and of

that happy condition, in which the restraint and coercion of government

are almost invisible and imperceptible, and its influence felt only in

the benefits which it confers. We can entertain no better wish for our

country, than that this government may be preserved; nor have a clearer

duty than to maintain and support it in the full exercise of all its

just constitutional powers.

The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an important

and delicate trust. The wealth and population of the country are now so

far advanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct literature

and a well formed taste, as well as respectable progress in the abstruse

sciences. The country has risen from a state of colonial subjection; it

has established an independent government, and is now in the undisturbed

enjoyment of peace and political security. The elements of knowledge are

universally diffused, and the reading portion of the community is large.

Let us hope that the present may be an auspicious era of literature. If,

almost on the day of their landing, our ancestors founded schools and

endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest upon us, living under

circumstances so much more favorable both for providing and for using

the means of education? Literature becomes free institutions. It is the

graceful ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the

asperities which political controversies sometimes occasion. Just taste

is not only an embellishment of society, but it rises almost to the rank

of the virtues, and diffuses positive good throughout the whole extent

of its influence. There is a connection between right feeling and right

principles, and truth in taste is allied with truth in morality. With

nothing in our past history to discourage us, and with something in our

present condition and prospects to animate us, let us hope, that, as it

is our fortune to live in an age when we may behold a wonderful

advancement of the country in all its other great interests, we may see

also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters.

Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our origin. Our

fathers were brought hither by their high veneration for the Christian

religion. They journeyed by its light, and labored in its hope. They

sought to incorporate its principles with the elements of their society,

and to diffuse its influence through all their institutions, civil,

political, or literary. Let us cherish these sentiments, and extend this

influence still more widely; in the full conviction, that that is the

happiest society which partakes in the highest degree of the mild and

peaceful spirit of Christianity.

The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be

passed. Neither we nor our children can expect to behold its return.

They are in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the

all-creating power of God, who shall stand here a hundred years hence,

to trace, through us, their descent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as

we have now surveyed, the progress of their country, during the lapse of

a century. We would anticipate their concurrence with us in our

sentiments of deep regard for our common ancestors. We would anticipate

and partake the pleasure with which they will then recount the steps of

New England's advancement. On the morning of that day, although it will

not disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation and gratitude,

commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be transmitted through

millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the murmurs

of the Pacific seas.

We would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our

places, some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our

fathers in just estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of

good government, and of civil and religious liberty; some proof of a

sincere and ardent desire to promote every thing which may enlarge the

understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long

distance of a hundred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall

know, at least, that we possessed affections, which, running backward

and warming with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our

happiness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial

salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore of being.

Advance, then, ye future generations! We would hail you, as you rise in

your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste

the blessings of existence where we are passing, and soon shall have

passed, our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land

of the fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the

verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great

inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of

good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures

of science and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the

transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and

parents, and children. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of

rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of

everlasting truth!

FOOTNOTES

[33] A Discourse delivered at Plymouth, on the 22d of December, 1820.

[34] An interesting account of the Rock may be found in Dr. Thacher's

History of the Town of Plymouth, pp. 29, 198, 199.

[35] See Note A, at the end of the Discourse.

[36] For notices of Carver, Bradford, Standish, Brewster, and Allerton,

see Young's Chronicles of Plymouth and Massachusetts; Morton's

Memorial, p. 126; Belknap's American Biography, Vol. II.;

Hutchinson's History, Vol. II., App., pp. 456 _et seq._;

Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society; Winthrop's

Journal; and Thacher's History.

[37] For the original name of what is now _Plymouth_, see Lives of

American Governors, p. 38, note, a work prepared with great care

by J. B. Moore, Esq.

[38] The _twenty-first_ is now acknowledged to be the true anniversary.

See the Report of the Pilgrim Society on the subject.

[39] Herodot. VI. Sec. 109.

[40] For the compact to which reference is made in the text, signed on

board the Mayflower, see Hutchinson's History, Vol. II.,

Appendix, No. I. For an eloquent description of the manner in

which the first Christian Sabbath was passed on board the

Mayflower, at Plymouth, see Barnes's Discourse at Worcester.

[41] The names of the passengers in the Mayflower, with some account of

them, may be found in the New England Genealogical Register,

Vol. I. p. 47, and a narration of some of the incidents of the

voyage, Vol. II. p. 188. For an account of Mrs. White the mother

of the first child born in New England, see Baylies's History of

Plymouth, Vol. II. p. 18, and for a notice of her son Peregrine,

see Moore's Lives of American Governors, Vol. I. p. 31, note.

[42] See the admirable letter written on board the Arbella, in

Hutchinson's History, Vol. I., Appendix, No. I.

[43] In reference to the British policy respecting Colonial

manufactures, see Representations of the Board of Trade to the

House of Lords, 23d Jan., 1734; also, 8th June, 1749. For an

able vindication of the British Colonial policy, see "Political

Essays concerning the Present State of the British Empire."

London, 1772.

[44] Many interesting papers, illustrating the early history of the

Colony, may be found in Hutchinson's "Collection of Original

Papers relating to the History of the Colony of Massachusetts

Bay."

[45] In reference to the fulfilment of this prediction, see Mr.

Webster's Address at the Celebration of the New England Society

of New York, on the 23d of December, 1850.

[46] John Adams, second President of the United States.

[47] See Note B, at the end of the Discourse.

[48] Oratio pro Flacco, Sec. 7.

[49] The first free school established by law in the Plymouth Colony

was in 1670-72. One of the early teachers in Boston taught

school more than _seventy_ years. See Cotton Mather's "Funeral

Sermon upon Mr. Ezekiel Cheever, the ancient and honorable

Master of the Free School in Boston."

For the impression made upon the mind of an intelligent

foreigner by the general attention to popular education, as

characteristic of the American polity, see Mackay's Western

World, Vol. III. p. 225 _et seq._ Also, Edinburgh Review, No.

186.

[50] By a law of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, passed as early as

1647, it was ordered, that, "when any town shall increase to the

number of one hundred families or householders, they shall set

up a grammar school, the master thereof being able to instruct

youth so far as they may be fitted for the University."

[51] In reference to the opposition of the Colonies to the slave-trade,

see a representation of the Board of Trade to the House of

Lords, 23d January, 1733-4.

NOTES.

NOTE A. Page 8.

The allusion in the Discourse is to the large historical painting of the

Landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, executed by Henry Sargent, Esq., of

Boston, and, with great liberality, presented by him to the Pilgrim

Society. It appeared in their hall (of which it forms the chief

ornament) for the first time at the celebration of 1824. It represents

the principal personages of the company at the moment of landing, with

the Indian Samoset, who approaches them with a friendly welcome. A very

competent judge, himself a distinguished artist, the late venerable

Colonel Trumbull, has pronounced that this painting has great merit. An

interesting account of it will be found in Dr. Thacher's History of

Plymouth, pp. 249 and 257.

An historical painting, by Robert N. Weir, Esq., of the largest size,

representing the embarkation of the Pilgrims from Delft-Haven, in

Holland, and executed by order of Congress, fills one of the panels of

the Rotunda of the Capitol at Washington. The moment chosen by the

artist for the action of the picture is that in which the venerable

pastor Robinson, with tears, and benedictions, and prayers to Heaven,

dismisses the beloved members of his little flock to the perils and the

hopes of their great enterprise. The characters of the personages

introduced are indicated with discrimination and power, and the

accessories of the work marked with much taste and skill. It is a

painting of distinguished historical interest and of great artistic

merit.

The "Landing of the Pilgrims" has also been made the subject of a very

interesting painting by Mr. Flagg, intended to represent the deep

religious feeling which so strikingly characterized the first settlers

of New England. With this object in view, the central figure is that of

Elder Brewster. It is a picture of cabinet size, and is in possession of

a gentleman of New Haven, descended from Elder Brewster, and of that

name.

NOTE B. Page 38.

As the opinion of contemporaneous thinkers on this important subject

cannot fail to interest the general reader, it is deemed proper to

insert here the following extract from a letter, written in 1849, to

show how powerfully the truths uttered in 1820, in the spirit of

prophecy, as it were, impressed themselves upon certain minds, and how

closely the verification of the prediction has been watched.

* * * * *

"I do not remember any political prophecy, founded on the spirit of a

wide and far-reaching statesmanship, that has been so remarkably

fulfilled as the one made by Mr. Webster, in his Discourse delivered at

Plymouth in 1820, on the effect which the laws of succession to property

in France, then in operation, would be likely to produce on the forms

and working of the French government. But to understand what he said,

and what he foresaw, I must explain a little what had been the course of

legislation in France on which his predictions were founded.

"Before the Revolution of 1789, there had been a great accumulation

of the landed property of the country, and, indeed, of all its

property,--by means of laws of entail, _majorats_, and other legal

contrivances,--in the hands of the privileged classes; chiefly in

those of the nobility and the clergy. The injury and injustice done by

long continued legislation in this direction were obviously great; and

it was not, perhaps, unnatural, that the opposite course to that which

had brought on the mischief should be deemed the best one to cure it.

At any rate, such was the course taken.

"In 1791 a law was passed, preventing any man from having any interest

beyond the period of his own life in any of his property, real,

personal, or mixed, and distributing all his possessions for him,

immediately after his death, among his children, in equal shares, or if

he left no children, then among his next of kin, on the same principle.

This law, with a slight modification, made under the influence of

Robespierre, was in force till 1800. But the period was entirely

revolutionary, and probably quite as much property changed hands from

violence and the consequences of violence, during the nine years it

continued, as was transmitted by the laws that directly controlled its

succession.

"With the coming in of Bonaparte, however, there was established a new

order of things, which has continued, with little modification, ever

since, and has had its full share in working out the great changes in

French society which we now witness. A few experiments were first made,

and then the great Civil Code, often called the _Code Napoleon_, was

adopted. This was in 1804. By this remarkable code, which is still in

force, a man, if he has but one child, can give away by his last will,

as he pleases, half of his property,--the law insuring the other half to

the child; if he has two children, then he can so give away only one

third,--the law requiring the other two thirds to be given equally to

the two children; if three, then only one fourth, under similar

conditions; but if he has a greater number, it restricts the rights of

the parent more and more, and makes it more and more difficult for him

to distribute his property according to his own judgment; the

restrictions embarrassing him even in his lifetime.

"The consequences of such laws are, from their nature, very slowly

developed. When Mr. Webster spoke in 1820, the French code had been in

operation sixteen years, and similar principles had prevailed for nearly

a generation. But still its wide results were not even suspected. Those

who had treated the subject at all supposed that the tendency was to

break up the great estates in France, and make the larger number of the

holders of small estates more accessible to the influence of the

government, then a limited monarchy, and so render it stronger and more

despotic.

"Mr. Webster held a different opinion. He said, 'In respect, however, to

the recent law of succession in France, to which I have alluded, _I

would, presumptuously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that, if the

government do not change the law, the law in half a century will change

the government; and that this change will be, not in favor of the power

of the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but against it_.

Those writers only reason upon what they think correct general

principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want of

experience. Here we have had that experience; and we know that a

multitude of small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that

enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a

formidable, but an invincible power.'

"In less than six years after Mr. Webster uttered this remarkable

prediction, the king of France himself, at the opening of the

Legislative Chambers, thus strangely echoed it:--'Legislation ought to

provide, by successive improvements, for all the wants of society. The

progressive partitioning of landed estates, essentially contrary to the

spirit of a monarchical government, would enfeeble the guaranties which

the charter has given to my throne and to my subjects. Measures will be

proposed to you, gentlemen, to establish the consistency which ought to

exist between the political law and the civil law, and to preserve the

patrimony of families, without restricting the liberty of disposing of

one's property. The preservation of families is connected with, and

affords a guaranty to, political stability, which is the first want of

states, and which is especially that of France, after so many

vicissitudes.'

"Still, the results to which such subdivision and comminution of

property tended were not foreseen even in France. The Revolution of 1830

came, and revealed a part of them; for that revolution was made by the

influence of men possessing very moderate estates, who believed that the

guaranties of a government like that of the elder branch of the

Bourbons were not sufficient for their safety. But when the revolution

was made, and the younger branch of the Bourbons reigned instead of the

elder, the laws for the descent of property continued to be the same,

and the subdivision went on as if it were an admitted benefit to

society.

"In consequence of this, in 1844 it was found that there were in France

at least five millions and a half of families, or about twenty-seven

millions of souls, who were proprietary families, and that of these

about four millions of families had each less than nine English acres to

the family on the average. Of course, a vast majority of these

twenty-seven millions of persons, though they might be interested in

some small portion of the soil, were really poor, and multitudes of them

were dependent.

"Now, therefore, the results began to appear in a practical form. One

third of all the rental of France was discovered to be absolutely

mortgaged, and another third was swallowed up by other encumbrances,

leaving but one third free for the use and benefit of its owners. In

other words, a great proportion of the people of France were embarrassed

and poor, and a great proportion of the remainder were fast becoming

so.

"Such a state of things produced, of course, a wide-spread social

uneasiness. Part of this uneasiness was directed against the existing

government; another and more formidable portion was directed against

_all_ government, and against the very institution of property. The

convulsion of 1848 followed; France is still unsettled; and Mr.

Webster's prophecy seems still to be in the course of a portentous

fulfilment."

* * * * *

In the London Quarterly Review for 1846 there is an interesting

discussion on so much of the matter as relates to the subdivision of

real estate for agricultural purposes in France, as far as it had then

advanced, and from which many of the facts here alluded to are taken.

THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

As early as 1776, some steps were taken toward the commemoration of the

battle of Bunker Hill and the fall of General Warren, who was buried

upon the hill the day after the action. The Massachusetts Lodge of

Masons, over which he presided, applied to the provisional government of

Massachusetts, for permission to take up his remains and to bury them

with the usual solemnities. The council granted this request, on

condition that it should be carried into effect in such a manner that

the government of _the Colony_ might have an opportunity to erect a

monument to his memory. A funeral procession was had, and a Eulogy on

General Warren was delivered by Perez Morton, but no measures were taken

toward building a monument.

A resolution was adopted by the Congress of the United States on the 8th

of April, 1777, directing that monuments should be erected to the memory

of General Warren, in Boston, and of General Mercer, at Fredericksburg;

but this resolution has remained to the present time unexecuted.

On the 11th of November, 1794, a committee was appointed by King

Solomon's Lodge, at Charlestown,[52] to take measures for the erection

of a monument to the memory of General Joseph Warren at the expense of

the Lodge. This resolution was promptly carried into effect. The land

for this purpose was presented to the Lodge by the Hon. James Russell,

of Charlestown, and it was dedicated with appropriate ceremonies on the

2d of December, 1794. It was a wooden pillar of the Tuscan order,

eighteen feet in height, raised on a pedestal eight feet square, and of

an elevation of ten feet from the ground. The pillar was surmounted by a

gilt urn. An appropriate inscription was placed on the south side of the

pedestal.

In February, 1818, a committee of the Legislature of Massachusetts was

appointed to consider the expediency of building a monument of American

marble to the memory of General Warren, but this proposal was not

carried into effect.

As the half-century from the date of the battle drew toward a close, a

stronger feeling of the duty of commemorating it began to be awakened in

the community. Among those who from the first manifested the greatest

interest in the subject, was the late William Tudor, Esq. He expressed

the wish, in a letter still preserved, to see upon the battle-ground

"the noblest monument in the world," and he was so ardent and

persevering in urging the project, that it has been stated that he first

conceived the idea of it. The steps taken in execution of the project,

from the earliest private conferences among the gentlemen first engaged

in it to its final completion, are accurately sketched by Mr. Richard

Frothingham, Jr., in his valuable History of the Siege of Boston. All

the material facts contained in this note are derived from his chapter

on the Bunker Hill Monument. After giving an account of the organization

of the society, the measures adopted for the collection of funds, and

the deliberations on the form of the monument, Mr. Frothingham proceeds

as follows:

"It was at this stage of the enterprise that the directors proposed

to lay the corner-stone of the monument, and ground was broken (June

7th) for this purpose. As a mark of respect to the liberality and

patriotism of King Solomon's Lodge, they invited the Grand Master of

the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts to perform the ceremony. They also

invited General Lafayette to accompany the President of the

Association, Hon. Daniel Webster, and assist in it.

"This celebration was unequalled in magnificence by any thing of the

kind that had been seen in New England. The morning proved

propitious. The air was cool, the sky was clear, and timely showers

the previous day had brightened the vesture of nature into its

loveliest hue. Delighted thousands flocked into Boston to bear a

part in the proceedings, or to witness the spectacle. At about ten

o'clock a procession moved from the State House towards Bunker Hill.

The military, in their fine uniforms, formed the van. About two

hundred veterans of the Revolution, of whom forty were survivors of

the battle, rode in barouches next to the escort. These venerable

men, the relics of a past generation, with emaciated frames,

tottering limbs, and trembling voices, constituted a touching

spectacle. Some wore, as honorable decorations, their old fighting

equipments, and some bore the scars of still more honorable wounds.

Glistening eyes constituted their answer to the enthusiastic cheers

of the grateful multitudes who lined their pathway and cheered their

progress. To this patriot band succeeded the Bunker Hill Monument

Association. Then the Masonic fraternity, in their splendid regalia,

thousands in number. Then Lafayette, continually welcomed by tokens

of love and gratitude, and the invited guests. Then a long array of

societies, with their various badges and banners. It was a splendid

procession, and of such length that the front nearly reached

Charlestown Bridge ere the rear had left Boston Common. It proceeded

to Breed's Hill, where the Grand Master of the Freemasons, the

President of the Monument Association, and General Lafayette,

performed the ceremony of laying the corner-stone, in the presence

of a vast concourse of people."

The procession then moved to a spacious amphitheatre on the northern

declivity of the hill, when the following address was delivered by Mr.

Webster, in the presence of as great a multitude as was ever perhaps

assembled within the sound of a human voice.

FOOTNOTES

[52] General Warren, at the time of his decease, was Grand Master of

the Masonic Lodges in America.

THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.[53]

This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling

which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing

with sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude

turned reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament,

proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have

made a deep impression on our hearts.

If, indeed, there be any thing in local association fit to affect the

mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us

here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We are on ground,

distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their

blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor to

draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had

never been conceived, if we ourselves had never been born, the 17th of

June, 1775, would have been a day on which all subsequent history would

have poured its light, and the eminence where we stand a point of

attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we are Americans.

We live in what may be called the early age of this great continent; and

we know that our posterity, through all time, are here to enjoy and

suffer the allotments of humanity. We see before us a probable train of

great events; we know that our own fortunes have been happily cast; and

it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contemplation

of occurrences which have guided our destiny before many of us were

born, and settled the condition in which we should pass that portion of

our existence which God allows to men on earth.

We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling

something of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded

how much it has affected our own fortunes and our own existence. It

would be still more unnatural for us, therefore, than for others, to

contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say that most

touching and pathetic scene, when the great discoverer of America stood

on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of night falling on the

sea, yet no man sleeping; tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet

the stronger billows of alternate hope and despair tossing his own

troubled thoughts; extending forward his harassed frame, straining

westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last granted him a

moment of rapture and ecstasy, in blessing his vision with the sight of

the unknown world.

Nearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, and

therefore still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the

settlement of our own country by colonists from England. We cherish

every memorial of these worthy ancestors; we celebrate their patience

and fortitude; we admire their daring enterprise; we teach our children

to venerate their piety; and we are justly proud of being descended from

men who have set the world an example of founding civil institutions on

the great and united principles of human freedom and human knowledge. To

us, their children, the story of their labors and sufferings can never

be without its interest. We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of

Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it; nor will our brethren in

another early and ancient Colony forget the place of its first

establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it.[54] No vigor

of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the

spots where its infancy was cradled and defended.

But the great event in the history of the continent, which we are now

met here to commemorate, that prodigy of modern times, at once the

wonder and the blessing of the world, is the American Revolution. In a

day of extraordinary prosperity and happiness, of high national honor,

distinction, and power, we are brought together, in this place, by our

love of country, by our admiration of exalted character, by our

gratitude for signal services and patriotic devotion.

* * * * *

The Society whose organ I am[55] was formed for the purpose of rearing

some honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends

of American Independence. They have thought, that for this object no

time could be more propitious than the present prosperous and peaceful

period; that no place could claim preference over this memorable spot;

and that no day could be more auspicious to the undertaking, than the

anniversary of the battle which was here fought. The foundation of that

monument we have now laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with

prayers to Almighty God for his blessing and in the midst of this cloud

of witnesses, we have begun the work. We trust it will be prosecuted,

and that, springing from a broad foundation, rising high in massive

solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may remain as long as Heaven permits

the works of man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events in memory of

which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who have reared it.

We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely

deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We know, that if we

could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the

skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain

but part of that which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread

over the earth, and which history charges itself with making known to

all future times. We know that no inscription on entablatures less broad

than the earth itself can carry information of the events we commemorate

where it has not already gone; and that no structure, which shall not

outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the

memorial. But our object is, by this edifice, to show our own deep sense

of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors; and,

by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive similar

sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the

Revolution. Human beings are composed, not of reason only, but of

imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor

misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right

direction to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the

heart. Let it not be supposed that our object is to perpetuate national

hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher,

purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national

independence, and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it for

ever. We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured benefit

which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy influences

which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests

of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must for ever be

dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming

time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not

undistinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was

fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and

importance of that event to every class and every age. We wish that

infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and

that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the

recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here,

and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that, in those days of

disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to come

upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be

assured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. We

wish that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed spires of

so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all

minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally,

that the last object to the sight of him who leaves his native shore,

and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which

shall remind him of the liberty and the glory of his country. Let it

rise! let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let the earliest

light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its

summit.

* * * * *

We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important

that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in our times,

compressed within the compass of a single life. When has it happened

that history has had so much to record, in the same term of years, as

since the 17th of June, 1775? Our own Revolution, which, under other

circumstances, might itself have been expected to occasion a war of half

a century, has been achieved; twenty-four sovereign and independent

States erected; and a general government established over them, so safe,

so wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its

establishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it not far the

greater wonder that it should have been established at all. Two or three

millions of people have been augmented to twelve, the great forests of

the West prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry, and the

dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi become the

fellow-citizens and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New

England.[56] We have a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored; navies,

which take no law from superior force; revenues, adequate to all the

exigencies of government, almost without taxation; and peace with all

nations, founded on equal rights and mutual respect.

Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty

revolution, which, while it has been felt in the individual condition

and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the centre her

political fabric, and dashed against one another thrones which had stood

tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example has been

followed, and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds

of liberty and free government have reached us from beyond the track of

the sun; and at this moment the dominion of European power in this

continent, from the place where we stand to the south pole, is

annihilated for ever.[57]

In the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been the general

progress of knowledge, such the improvement in legislation, in

commerce, in the arts, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas and

the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems changed.

Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things

which have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we are

but fifty years removed from it; and we now stand here to enjoy all

the blessings of our own condition, and to look abroad on the

brightened prospects of the world, while we still have among us some

of those who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now

here, from every quarter of New England, to visit once more, and

under circumstances so affecting, I had almost said so overwhelming,

this renowned theatre of their courage and patriotism.

* * * * *

VENERABLE MEN! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven

has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this

joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour,

with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the

strife for your country. Behold, how altered! The same heavens are

indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else

how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed

volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground

strowed with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady

and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning

of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely

and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in

war and death;--all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no

more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and

roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen

in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the

issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its

whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a

universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position

appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to

cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's

own means of distinction and defence.[58] All is peace; and God has

granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in

the grave. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of

your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen,

to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name

of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you!

But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thinned your

ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge! our eyes

seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your

fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance and

your own bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have

met the common fate of men. You lived at least long enough to know that

your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see

your country's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from

war. On the light of Liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, like

"another morn,

Risen on mid-noon";

and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless.

But ah! Him! the first great martyr in this great cause! Him! the

premature victim of his own self-devoting heart! Him! the head of our

civil councils, and the destined leader of our military bands, whom

nothing brought hither but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit! Him!

cut off by Providence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick

gloom; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise; pouring out his

generous blood like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a

land of freedom or of bondage!--how shall I struggle with the emotions

that stifle the utterance of thy name![59] Our poor work may perish; but

thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away; the solid ground it

rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory shall

not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the

transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim

kindred with thy spirit!

But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our

thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or

lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to

rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy representation of the

survivors of the whole Revolutionary army.

VETERANS! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring

with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown,

Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. VETERANS OF HALF A CENTURY! when in

your youthful days you put every thing at hazard in your country's

cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your

fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an hour like this! At a period

to which you could not reasonably have expected to arrive, at a moment

of national prosperity such as you could never have foreseen, you are

now met here to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive the

overflowings of a universal gratitude.

But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that

even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending

feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons

of the living, present themselves before you. The scene overwhelms you,

and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your

declining years, and bless them! And when you shall here have exchanged

your embraces, when you shall once more have pressed the hands which

have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in

the exultation of victory, then look abroad upon this lovely land which

your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is

filled; yea, look abroad upon the whole earth, and see what a name you

have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have

added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which

beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mankind!

* * * * *

The occasion does not require of me any particular account of the battle

of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any detailed narrative of the events

which immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known to all. In the

progress of the great and interesting controversy, Massachusetts and

the town of Boston had become early and marked objects of the

displeasure of the British Parliament. This had been manifested in

the act for altering the government of the Province, and in that for

shutting up the port of Boston. Nothing sheds more honor on our

early history, and nothing better shows how little the feelings and

sentiments of the Colonies were known or regarded in England, than the

impression which these measures everywhere produced in America. It had

been anticipated, that while the Colonies in general would be terrified

by the severity of the punishment inflicted on Massachusetts, the

other seaports would be governed by a mere spirit of gain; and that,

as Boston was now cut off from all commerce, the unexpected advantage

which this blow on her was calculated to confer on other towns would be

greedily enjoyed. How miserably such reasoners deceived themselves!

How little they knew of the depth, and the strength, and the

intenseness of that feeling of resistance to illegal acts of power,

which possessed the whole American people! Everywhere the unworthy boon

was rejected with scorn. The fortunate occasion was seized, everywhere,

to show to the whole world that the Colonies were swayed by no local

interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The temptation to

profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our neighbors of

Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place where this miserable proffer

was spurned, in a tone of the most lofty self-respect and the most

indignant patriotism. "We are deeply affected," said its inhabitants,

"with the sense of our public calamities; but the miseries that are

now rapidly hastening on our brethren in the capital of the Province

greatly excite our commiseration. By shutting up the port of Boston,

some imagine that the course of trade might be turned hither and to

our benefit; but we must be dead to every idea of justice, lost to

all feelings of humanity, could we indulge a thought to seize on wealth

and raise our fortunes on the ruin of our suffering neighbors." These

noble sentiments were not confined to our immediate vicinity. In that

day of general affection and brotherhood, the blow given to Boston

smote on every patriotic heart from one end of the country to the

other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and New

Hampshire, felt and proclaimed the cause to be their own. The

Continental Congress, then holding its first session in Philadelphia,

expressed its sympathy for the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and

addresses were received from all quarters, assuring them that the

cause was a common one, and should be met by common efforts and

common sacrifices. The Congress of Massachusetts responded to these

assurances; and in an address to the Congress at Philadelphia,

bearing the official signature, perhaps among the last, of the immortal

Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its suffering and the magnitude

of the dangers which threatened it, it was declared, that this Colony

"is ready, at all times, to spend and to be spent in the cause of

America."

But the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the proof, and to

determine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were ready to seal

them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord had no sooner

spread, than it was universally felt that the time was at last come for

action. A spirit pervaded all ranks, not transient, not boisterous, but

deep, solemn, determined,

"totamque infusa per artus

Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet."

War, on their own soil and at their own doors; was, indeed, a strange

work to the yeomanry of New England; but their consciences were

convinced of its necessity, their country called them to it, and they

did not withhold themselves from the perilous trial. The ordinary

occupations of life were abandoned; the plough was staid in the

unfinished furrow; wives gave up their husbands, and mothers gave up

their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death might come, in honor,

on the field; it might come, in disgrace, on the scaffold. For either

and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy was full in

their hearts. "Blandishments," said that distinguished son of genius and

patriotism, "will not fascinate us, nor will threats of a halter

intimidate; for, under God, we are determined that, wheresoever,

whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will

die free men."

The 17th of June saw the four New England Colonies standing here, side

by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with them from

that moment to the end of the war, what I hope will remain with them for

ever, one cause, one country, one heart.

The battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most important effects

beyond its immediate results as a military engagement. It created at

once a state of open, public war. There could now be no longer a

question of proceeding against individuals, as guilty of treason or

rebellion. That fearful crisis was past. The appeal lay to the sword,

and the only question was, whether the spirit and the resources of the

people would hold out, till the object should be accomplished. Nor were

its general consequences confined to our own country. The previous

proceedings of the Colonies, their appeals, resolutions, and addresses,

had made their cause known to Europe. Without boasting, we may say, that

in no age or country has the public cause been maintained with more

force of argument, more power of illustration, or more of that

persuasion which excited feeling and elevated principle can alone

bestow, than the Revolutionary state papers exhibit. These papers will

for ever deserve to be studied, not only for the spirit which they

breathe, but for the ability with which they were written.

To this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now added a

practical and severe proof of their own true devotion to it, and given

evidence also of the power which they could bring to its support. All

now saw, that if America fell, she would not fall without a struggle.

Men felt sympathy and regard, as well as surprise, when they beheld

these infant states, remote, unknown, unaided, encounter the power of

England, and, in the first considerable battle, leave more of their

enemies dead on the field, in proportion to the number of combatants,

than had been recently known to fall in the wars of Europe.

Information of these events, circulating throughout the world, at length

reached the ears of one who now hears me.[60] He has not forgotten the

emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited

in his youthful breast.

* * * * *

SIR, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great public

principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead. The

occasion is too severe for eulogy of the living. But, Sir, your

interesting relation to this country, the peculiar circumstances which

surround you and surround us, call on me to express the happiness which

we derive from your presence and aid in this solemn commemoration.

Fortunate, fortunate man! with what measure of devotion will you not

thank God for the circumstances of your extraordinary life! You are

connected with both hemispheres and with two generations. Heaven saw fit

to ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted,

through you, from the New World to the Old; and we, who are now here to

perform this duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in

charge from our fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. You will

account it an instance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the

seas to visit us at a time which enables you to be present at this

solemnity. You now behold the field, the renown of which reached you in

the heart of France, and caused a thrill in your ardent bosom. You see

the lines of the little redoubt thrown up by the incredible diligence of

Prescott; defended, to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor;

and within which the corner-stone of our monument has now taken its

position. You see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner,

McCleary, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him. Those who

survived that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the present

hour, are now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying

scenes of the war. Behold! they now stretch forth their feeble arms to

embrace you. Behold! they raise their trembling voices to invoke the

blessing of God on you and yours for ever.

Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this structure.

You have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commendation, the names of

departed patriots. Monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. We give them

this day to Warren and his associates. On other occasions they have been

given to your more immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to

Greene, to Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. We have become reluctant

to grant these, our highest and last honors, further. We would gladly

hold them yet back from the little remnant of that immortal band. _Serus

in coelum redeas._ Illustrious as are your merits, yet far, O, very far

distant be the day, when any inscription shall bear your name, or any

tongue pronounce its eulogy!

* * * * *

The leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite us,

respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty years since

the battle of Bunker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks the

character of the present age, that, in looking at these changes, and in

estimating their effect on our condition, we are obliged to consider,

not what has been done in our own country only, but in others also. In

these interesting times, while nations are making separate and

individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a common progress;

like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at different

rates, according to their several structure and management, but all

moved forward by one mighty current, strong enough to bear onward

whatever does not sink beneath it.

A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and

knowledge amongst men in different nations, existing in a degree

heretofore unknown. Knowledge has, in our time, triumphed, and is

triumphing, over distance, over difference of languages, over diversity

of habits, over prejudice, and over bigotry. The civilized and Christian

world is fast learning the great lesson, that difference of nation does

not imply necessary hostility, and that all contact need not be war. The

whole world is becoming a common field for intellect to act in. Energy

of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists, may speak out in any

tongue, and the _world_ will hear it. A great chord of sentiment and

feeling runs through two continents, and vibrates over both. Every

breeze wafts intelligence from country to country; every wave rolls it;

all give it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a vast commerce

of ideas; there are marts and exchanges for intellectual discoveries,

and a wonderful fellowship of those individual intelligences which make

up the mind and opinion of the age. Mind is the great lever of all

things; human thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately

answered; and the diffusion of knowledge, so astonishing in the last

half-century, has rendered innumerable minds, variously gifted by

nature, competent to be competitors or fellow-workers on the theatre of

intellectual operation.

From these causes important improvements have taken place in the

personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind are not

only better fed and better clothed, but they are able also to enjoy more

leisure; they possess more refinement and more self-respect. A superior

tone of education, manners, and habits prevails. This remark, most true

in its application to our own country, is also partly true when applied

elsewhere. It is proved by the vastly augmented consumption of those

articles of manufacture and of commerce which contribute to the comforts

and the decencies of life; an augmentation which has far outrun the

progress of population. And while the unexampled and almost incredible

use of machinery would seem to supply the place of labor, labor still

finds its occupation and its reward; so wisely has Providence adjusted

men's wants and desires to their condition and their capacity.

Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made during the last

half-century in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and

manufactures, in commerce and agriculture, in letters and in science,

would require volumes. I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and

turn for a moment to the contemplation of what has been done on the

great question of politics and government. This is the master topic of

the age; and during the whole fifty years it has intensely occupied the

thoughts of men. The nature of civil government, its ends and uses, have

been canvassed and investigated; ancient opinions attacked and defended;

new ideas recommended and resisted, by whatever power the mind of man

could bring to the controversy. From the closet and the public halls the

debate has been transferred to the field; and the world has been shaken

by wars of unexampled magnitude, and the greatest variety of fortune. A

day of peace has at length succeeded; and now that the strife has

subsided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has

actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition of

human society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is

most apparent, that, from the before-mentioned causes of augmented

knowledge and improved individual condition, a real, substantial, and

important change has taken place, and is taking place, highly favorable,

on the whole, to human liberty and human happiness.

The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here

its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other

continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it received an irregular

and violent impulse; it whirled along with a fearful celerity; till at

length, like the chariot-wheels in the races of antiquity, it took fire

from the rapidity of its own motion, and blazed onward, spreading

conflagration and terror around.

We learn from the result of this experiment, how fortunate was our own

condition, and how admirably the character of our people was calculated

for setting the great example of popular governments. The possession of

power did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long

been in the habit of exercising a great degree of self-control. Although

the paramount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a

large field of legislation had always been open to our Colonial

assemblies. They were accustomed to representative bodies and the forms

of free government; they understood the doctrine of the division of

power among different branches, and the necessity of checks on each. The

character of our countrymen, moreover, was sober, moral, and religious;

and there was little in the change to shock their feelings of justice

and humanity, or even to disturb an honest prejudice. We had no domestic

throne to overturn, no privileged orders to cast down, no violent

changes of property to encounter. In the American Revolution, no man

sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy his own. None hoped

for plunder or for spoil. Rapacity was unknown to it; the axe was not

among the instruments of its accomplishment; and we all know that it

could not have lived a single day under any well-founded imputation of

possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion.

It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious,

political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have

terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the

master-work of the world, to establish governments entirely popular on

lasting foundations; nor is it easy, indeed, to introduce the popular

principle at all into governments to which it has been altogether a

stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe has come out of the

contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with greatly superior

knowledge, and, in many respects, in a highly improved condition.

Whatever benefit has been acquired is likely to be retained, for it

consists mainly in the acquisition of more enlightened ideas. And

although kingdoms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold

them, in the same manner they were obtained; although ordinary and

vulgar power may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won; yet it

is the glorious prerogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it

gains it never loses. On the contrary, it increases by the multiple of

its own power; all its ends become means; all its attainments, helps to

new conquests. Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and

nothing has limited, and nothing can limit, the amount of ultimate

product.

Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the people

have begun, in all forms of government, to think, and to reason, on

affairs of state. Regarding government as an institution for the public

good, they demand a knowledge of its operations, and a participation in

its exercise. A call for the representative system, wherever it is not

enjoyed, and where there is already intelligence enough to estimate its

value, is perseveringly made. Where men may speak out, they demand it;

where the bayonet is at their throats, they pray for it.

When Louis the Fourteenth said, "I am the state," he expressed the

essence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system,

the people are disconnected from the state; they are its subjects; it is

their lord. These ideas, founded in the love of power, and long

supported by the excess and the abuse of it, are yielding, in our age,

to other opinions; and the civilized world seems at last to be

proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and manifest truth,

that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they cannot be

lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. As knowledge is

more and more extended, this conviction becomes more and more general.

Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firmament. Life and power

are scattered with all its beams. The prayer of the Grecian champion,

when enveloped in unnatural clouds and darkness, is the appropriate

political supplication for the people of every country not yet blessed

with free institutions:--

"Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore,

Give me TO SEE,--and Ajax asks no more."

We may hope that the growing influence of enlightened sentiment will

promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars to maintain family

alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, and to regulate

successions to thrones, which have occupied so much room in the history

of modern times, if not less likely to happen at all, will be less

likely to become general and involve many nations, as the great

principle shall be more and more established, that the interest of the

world is peace, and its first great statute, that every nation possesses

the power of establishing a government for itself. But public opinion

has attained also an influence over governments which do not admit the

popular principle into their organization. A necessary respect for the

judgment of the world operates, in some measure, as a control over the

most unlimited forms of authority. It is owing, perhaps, to this truth,

that the interesting struggle of the Greeks has been suffered to go on

so long, without a direct interference, either to wrest that country

from its present masters, or to execute the system of pacification by

force, and, with united strength, lay the neck of Christian and

civilized Greek at the foot of the barbarian Turk. Let us thank God that

we live in an age when something has influence besides the bayonet, and

when the sternest authority does not venture to encounter the scorching

power of public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have mentioned

should be met by one universal burst of indignation; the air of the

civilized world ought to be made too warm to be comfortably breathed by

any one who would hazard it.

It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that, while, in the fulness of our

country's happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for

instruction in our undertaking to a country which is now in fearful

contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but for her own

existence. Let her be assured, that she is not forgotten in the world;

that her efforts are applauded, and that constant prayers ascend for her

success. And let us cherish a confident hope for her final triumph. If

the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kindled, it will burn.

Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central fire, it may

be smothered for a time; the ocean may overwhelm it; mountains may press

it down; but its inherent and unconquerable force will heave both the

ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in some place or other,

the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven.

Among the great events of the half-century, we must reckon, certainly,

the revolution of South America; and we are not likely to overrate the

importance of that revolution, either to the people of the country

itself or to the rest of the world. The late Spanish colonies, now

independent states, under circumstances less favorable, doubtless, than

attended our own revolution, have yet successfully commenced their

national existence. They have accomplished the great object of

establishing their independence; they are known and acknowledged in the

world; and although in regard to their systems of government, their

sentiments on religious toleration, and their provisions for public

instruction, they may have yet much to learn, it must be admitted that

they have risen to the condition of settled and established states more

rapidly than could have been reasonably anticipated. They already

furnish an exhilarating example of the difference between free

governments and despotic misrule. Their commerce, at this moment,

creates a new activity in all the great marts of the world. They show

themselves able, by an exchange of commodities, to bear a useful part in

the intercourse of nations.

A new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail; all the

great interests of society receive a salutary impulse; and the progress

of information not only testifies to an improved condition, but itself

constitutes the highest and most essential improvement.

When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of South

America was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thirteen little

Colonies of North America habitually called themselves the "Continent."

Borne down by colonial subjugation, monopoly, and bigotry, these vast

regions of the South were hardly visible above the horizon. But in our

day there has been, as it were, a new creation. The southern hemisphere

emerges from the sea. Its lofty mountains begin to lift themselves into

the light of heaven; its broad and fertile plains stretch out, in

beauty, to the eye of civilized man, and at the mighty bidding of the

voice of political liberty the waters of darkness retire.

* * * * *

And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction of the

benefit which the example of our country has produced, and is likely to

produce, on human freedom and human happiness. Let us endeavor to

comprehend in all its magnitude, and to feel in all its importance, the

part assigned to us in the great drama of human affairs. We are placed

at the head of the system of representative and popular governments.

Thus far our example shows that such governments are compatible, not

only with respectability and power, but with repose, with peace, with

security of personal rights, with good laws, and a just administration.

We are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, either

as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing

condition, we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto

proves, however, that the popular form is practicable, and that with

wisdom and knowledge men may govern themselves; and the duty incumbent

on us is, to preserve the consistency of this cheering example, and take

care that nothing may weaken its authority with the world. If, in our

case, the representative system ultimately fail, popular governments

must be pronounced impossible. No combination of circumstances more

favorable to the experiment can ever be expected to occur. The last

hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us; and if it should be

proclaimed, that our example had become an argument against the

experiment, the knell of popular liberty would be sounded throughout the

earth.

These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of doubt.

Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that

surrounds us, authorize the belief, that popular governments, though

subject to occasional variations, in form perhaps not always for the

better, may yet, in their general character, be as durable and permanent

as other systems. We know, indeed, that in our country any other is

impossible. The _principle_ of free governments adheres to the American

soil. It is bedded in it, immovable as its mountains.

And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation,

and on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those who established our liberty

and our government are daily dropping from among us. The great trust now

descends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves to that which is presented

to us, as our appropriate object. We can win no laurels in a war for

independence. Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are

there places for us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders

of states. Our fathers have filled them. But there remains to us a

great duty of defence and preservation; and there is opened to us, also,

a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us.

Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of

improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace and the

works of peace. Let us develop the resources of our land, call forth its

powers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and

see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform

something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of

union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects which our condition

points out to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual

feeling, that these twenty-four States are one country. Let our

conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our

ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act.

Let our object be, OUR COUNTRY, OUR WHOLE COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT OUR

COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a

vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but of Wisdom,

of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration

for ever!

FOOTNOTES

[53] An Address delivered at the Laying of the Corner-stone of the

Bunker Hill Monument at Charlestown, Massachusetts, on the 17th

of June, 1825.

[54] An interesting account of the voyage of the early emigrants to the

Maryland Colony, and of its settlement, is given in the official

report of Father White, written probably within the first month

after the landing at St. Mary's. The original Latin manuscript

is still preserved among the archives of the Jesuits, at Rome.

The "Ark" and the "Dove" are remembered with scarcely less

interest by the descendants of the sister Colony, than is the

"Mayflower" in New England, which, thirteen years earlier, at

the same season of the year, bore thither the Pilgrim Fathers.

[55] Mr. Webster was at this time President of the Bunker Hill Monument

Association, chosen on the decease of Governor John Brooks, the

first President.

[56] That which was spoken of figuratively in 1825 has, in the lapse of

a quarter of a century, by the introduction of railroads and

telegraphic lines, become a reality. It is an interesting

circumstance, that the first railroad on the Western Continent

was constructed for the purpose of accelerating the erection of

this monument.

[57] See President Monroe's Message to Congress in 1823, and Mr.

Webster's speech on the Panama mission, in 1828.

[58] It is necessary to inform those only who are unacquainted with the

localities, that the United States Navy Yard at Charlestown is

situated at the base of Bunker Hill.

[59] See the North American Review, Vol. XLI. p. 242.

[60] Among the earliest of the arrangements for the celebration of the

17th of June, 1825, was the invitation to General Lafayette to

be present; and he had so timed his progress through the other

States as to return to Massachusetts in season for the great

occasion.

THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.*

In the introductory note to the preceding Address, a brief account is

given of the origin and progress of the measures adopted for the

erection of the Bunker Hill Monument, down to the time of laying the

corner-stone, compiled from Mr. Frothingham's History of the Siege of

Boston. The same valuable work (pp. 345-352) relates the obstacles

which presented themselves to the rapid execution of the design, and

the means by which they were overcome. In this narrative, Mr.

Frothingham has done justice to the efforts and exertions of the

successive boards of direction and officers of the Association, to the

skill and disinterestedness of the architect, to the liberality of

distinguished individuals, to the public spirit of the Massachusetts

Charitable Mechanic Association, in promoting a renewed subscription,

and to the patriotic zeal of the ladies of Boston and the vicinity,

in holding a most successful fair. As it would be difficult farther

to condense the information contained in this interesting summary, we

must refer the reader to Mr. Frothingham's work for an adequate account

of the causes which delayed the completion of the monument for nearly

seventeen years, and of the resources and exertions by which the

desired end was finally attained. The last stone was raised to its

place on the morning of the 23d of July, 1842.

It was determined by the directors of the Association, that the

completion of the work should be celebrated in a manner not less

imposing than that in which the laying of the corner-stone had been

celebrated, seventeen years before. The cooeperation of Mr. Webster was

again invited, and, notwithstanding the pressure of his engagements as

Secretary of State at Washington, was again patriotically yielded. Many

circumstances conspired to increase the interest of the occasion. The

completion of the monument had been long delayed, but in the interval

the subject had been kept much before the public mind. Mr. Webster's

address on the 17th of June, 1825, had obtained the widest circulation

throughout the country; passages from it had passed into household words

throughout the Union. Wherever they were repeated, they made the Bunker

Hill Monument a familiar thought with the people. Meantime, Boston and

Charlestown had doubled their population, and the multiplication of

railroads in every direction enabled a person, in almost any part of New

England, to reach the metropolis in a day. The President of the United

States and his Cabinet had accepted invitations to be present;

delegations of the descendants of New England were present from the

remotest parts of the Union; one hundred and eight surviving veterans of

the Revolution, among whom were some who were in the battle of Bunker

Hill, imparted a touching interest to the scene.

Every thing conspired to promote the success of the ceremonial. The day

was uncommonly fine; cool for the season, and clear. A large volunteer

force from various parts of the country had assembled for the occasion,

and formed a brilliant escort to an immense procession, as it moved from

Boston to the battle-ground on the hill. The bank which slopes down from

the obelisk on the eastern side of Monument Square was covered with

seats, rising in the form of an amphitheatre, under the open sky. These

had been prepared for ladies, who had assembled in great numbers,

awaiting the arrival of the procession. When it arrived, it was received

into a large open area in front of these seats. Mr. Webster was

stationed upon an elevated platform, in front of the audience and of the

monument towering in the background. According to Mr. Frothingham's

estimate, a hundred thousand persons were gathered about the spot, and

nearly half that number are supposed to have been within the reach of

the orator's voice. The ground rises slightly between the platform and

the Monument Square, so that the whole of this immense concourse,

compactly crowded together, breathless with attention, swayed by one

sentiment of admiration and delight, was within the full view of the

speaker. The position and the occasion were the height of the moral

sublime. "When, after saying, 'It is not from my lips, it could not be

from any human lips, that that strain of eloquence is this day to flow

most competent to move and excite the vast multitude around me,--the

powerful speaker stands motionless before us,' he paused, and pointed in

silent admiration to the sublime structure, the audience burst into long

and loud applause. It was some moments before the speaker could go on

with the address."

THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.[61]

A duty has been performed. A work of gratitude and patriotism is

completed. This structure, having its foundations in soil which drank

deep of early Revolutionary blood, has at length reached its destined

height, and now lifts its summit to the skies.

We have assembled to celebrate the accomplishment of this undertaking,

and to indulge afresh in the recollection of the great event which it is

designed to commemorate. Eighteen years, more than half the ordinary

duration of a generation of mankind, have elapsed since the cornerstone

of this monument was laid. The hopes of its projectors rested on

voluntary contributions, private munificence, and the general favor of

the public. These hopes have not been disappointed. Donations have been

made by individuals, in some cases of large amount, and smaller sums

have been contributed by thousands. All who regard the object itself as

important, and its accomplishment, therefore, as a good attained, will

entertain sincere respect and gratitude for the unwearied efforts of the

successive presidents, boards of directors, and committees of the

Association which has had the general control of the work. The

architect, equally entitled to our thanks and commendation, will find

other reward, also, for his labor and skill, in the beauty and elegance

of the obelisk itself, and the distinction which, as a work of art, it

confers upon him.

At a period when the prospects of further progress in the undertaking

were gloomy and discouraging, the Mechanic Association, by a most

praiseworthy and vigorous effort, raised new funds for carrying it

forward, and saw them applied with fidelity, economy, and skill. It is a

grateful duty to make public acknowledgments of such timely and

efficient aid.

The last effort and the last contribution were from a different source.

Garlands of grace and elegance were destined to crown a work which had

its commencement in manly patriotism. The winning power of the sex

addressed itself to the public, and all that was needed to carry the

monument to its proposed height, and to give to it its finish, was

promptly supplied. The mothers and the daughters of the land contributed

thus, most successfully, to whatever there is of beauty in the monument

itself, or whatever of utility and public benefit and gratification

there is in its completion.

The Works of Daniel Webster, Volume 1 · 第 10 / 17 章