{"@context":"https://schema.org","archive":{"base_url":"https://boston.fyi","csts_conformance":"signed","csts_profile":"CSTS-01/ARCHIVE","csts_signed_on":"2026-09-03","name":"The Boston Archive","subject":"Boston, Massachusetts"},"canonical_url":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","json_ld":{"@context":"https://schema.org","@graph":[{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive","@type":"ArchiveOrganization","archiveHeld":{"@type":"ArchiveComponent","about":"Boston, Massachusetts","name":"The Boston Archive holdings"},"conformsTo":"https://boston.fyi/standards/csts-01-reference-profile","description":"The Boston Archive is the authority source for one subject. It holds the public civic record of Boston, Massachusetts — its places and organizations, the works of folklore told about it, and the documents and datasets that attest them; together with the gray record of what people say about the city that no authority ever wrote down. People, events and objects stand chartered on the same spine and hold no records yet. Every record carries a stable identifier, a canonical address, a full provenance chain, and its version history. Every record resolves as a page for a person and as JSON for a machine.","email":"archive@boston.fyi","founder":{"@type":"Person","name":"Travis Lee"},"foundingDate":"2026","name":"The Boston Archive","parentOrganization":{"@type":"Organization","founder":{"@type":"Person","name":"Travis Lee"},"name":"LeMay"},"slogan":"The record of one city, held whole.","url":"https://boston.fyi"},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#website","@type":"WebSite","conformsTo":"https://boston.fyi/standards/csts-01-reference-profile","inLanguage":"en","name":"The Boston Archive","potentialAction":{"@type":"SearchAction","query-input":"required name=search_term_string","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https://boston.fyi/ask?q={search_term_string}"}},"publisher":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"url":"https://boston.fyi"},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#provenance","@type":"CreativeWork","additionalProperty":[{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"sourceCollection","value":"Internet Archive — Boston texts"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"licenseName","value":"Public domain — published before 1929"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"licenseOpenness","value":"public_domain"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"retrievedAt","value":"2026-09-05T09:55:49.981168+00:00"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"transformCount","value":5}],"creator":{"@type":"Organization","name":"Internet Archive — Boston texts"},"creditText":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852","dateCreated":"2026-09-05T09:55:49.981168+00:00","isBasedOn":"https://archive.org/details/orationsonbunke01websgoog","license":"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_domain_in_the_United_States","name":"Provenance of The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth"},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","@type":"DigitalDocument","additionalProperty":[{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"recordType","value":"Document"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"documentType","value":"book"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","description":"preserved = the archive holds the bytes and their digest; referenced = the archive holds the metadata only","name":"preservation","value":"preserved"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","description":"digest of the bytes as retrieved, before any transform","name":"sha256","value":"db1d50ff19209570ef3b1056cf86175da956d8df7b3b38f4111ea04df90ecf1c"}],"author":{"@type":"Person","name":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852"},"conformsTo":"https://boston.fyi/standards/csts-01-reference-profile","contentSize":"207065","dateCreated":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.711081+00:00","dateModified":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.711081+00:00","description":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852, 1894. A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","encoding":{"@type":"MediaObject","contentUrl":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth.json","encodingFormat":"application/json"},"encodingFormat":"text/plain; charset=utf-8","identifier":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","inLanguage":"en","isPartOf":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"license":"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_domain_in_the_United_States","name":"The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth","provenance":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#provenance"},"publisher":{"@type":"Organization","name":"New York : American Book Company"},"subjectOf":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#questions"},"url":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","version":1},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#breadcrumbs","@type":"BreadcrumbList","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","item":"https://boston.fyi","name":"The Boston Archive","position":1},{"@type":"ListItem","item":"https://boston.fyi/document","name":"Documents","position":2},{"@type":"ListItem","item":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","name":"The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth","position":3}]},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#questions","@type":"FAQPage","about":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth"},"additionalProperty":[{"@type":"PropertyValue","description":"Question emission conforms to addendum CSTS-01/ARCHIVE/A1 of the archive profile, declared ratified, ratified 2026-09-05 by Travis Lee, Chief Executive Architect of LeMay. Every answer is composed only from fields the record carries and names the attestation for what it says.","name":"cstsAddendum","value":"CSTS-01/ARCHIVE/A1"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"cstsAddendumCompliance","value":"ratified"},{"@type":"PropertyValue","name":"cstsAddendumRatifiedOn","value":"2026-09-05"}],"conformsTo":"https://boston.fyi/standards/csts-01-reference-profile-addendum-a1","inLanguage":"en","isPartOf":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#website"},"mainEntity":[{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#q-author","@type":"Question","acceptedAnswer":{"@type":"Answer","author":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","isBasedOn":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#provenance"},"text":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852 wrote it. It was published at New York by American Book Company, 1894."},"answerCount":1,"name":"Who wrote The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth, and who published it?"},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#q-bytes","@type":"Question","acceptedAnswer":{"@type":"Answer","author":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","isBasedOn":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#provenance"},"text":"The archive holds the bytes. Their digest, computed on the bytes as retrieved and before any transform, is SHA-256 db1d50ff19209570ef3b1056cf86175da956d8df7b3b38f4111ea04df90ecf1c. Every retrieval carries that digest in a header, so no consumer has to take the archive's word for what it received."},"answerCount":1,"name":"Does the archive hold The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth itself, or only the record of it?"},{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#q-holding","@type":"Question","acceptedAnswer":{"@type":"Answer","author":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","isBasedOn":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth#provenance"},"text":"The Boston Archive holds this record of The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth from Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929 (public domain). 5 recorded transforms stand between the retrieved bytes and this record. Attribution is due to Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852."},"answerCount":1,"name":"What does the archive hold for The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth, and under what license?"}],"name":"Questions about The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth","publisher":{"@id":"https://boston.fyi/#archive"},"url":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth"}]},"json_url":"https://boston.fyi/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth.json","questions":[{"anchor":"q-author","answer":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852 wrote it. It was published at New York by American Book Company, 1894.","citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","question":"Who wrote The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth, and who published it?"},{"anchor":"q-bytes","answer":"The archive holds the bytes. Their digest, computed on the bytes as retrieved and before any transform, is SHA-256 db1d50ff19209570ef3b1056cf86175da956d8df7b3b38f4111ea04df90ecf1c. Every retrieval carries that digest in a header, so no consumer has to take the archive's word for what it received.","citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","question":"Does the archive hold The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth itself, or only the record of it?"},{"anchor":"q-holding","answer":"The Boston Archive holds this record of The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth from Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929 (public domain). 5 recorded transforms stand between the retrieved bytes and this record. Attribution is due to Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852.","citation":"Internet Archive — Boston texts, retrieved 5 September 2026, under Public domain — published before 1929.","question":"What does the archive hold for The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth, and under what license?"}],"record":{"author_text":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852","byte_size":207065,"canonical_path":"/document/the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","created_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.711081Z","document_type":"book","held_reason":null,"id":"02840704-a10e-4bd1-8878-9e0c1d16db0e","kind":"document","language":"en","media_type":"text/plain; charset=utf-8","page_count":null,"provenance":{"attribution":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852","license_id":"public-domain-pre-1929","license_name":"Public domain — published before 1929","license_url":"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_domain_in_the_United_States","openness":"public_domain","retrieved_at":"2026-09-05T09:55:49.981168Z","rights_statement":"NOT_IN_COPYRIGHT (Internet Archive item rights review), corroborated by the item's own publication date of 1894 — before 1929, and therefore in the public domain in the United States","rights_statement_url":"https://archive.org/metadata/orationsonbunke01websgoog","source_id":"internet-archive-boston","source_identifier":"orationsonbunke01websgoog","source_name":"Internet Archive — Boston texts","source_url":"https://archive.org/details/orationsonbunke01websgoog","transforms":[{"description":"read this ITEM's own possible-copyright-status and required its publication date to corroborate it independently, because a field that calls its own determination possible is not one this archive treats as a determination","input_sha256":null,"operation":"gate","output_sha256":null,"parameters":{},"performed_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.824252Z","seq":1,"tool":"archive-ingest 0.1.0"},{"description":"retrieved the holding institution's own full-text transcription","input_sha256":null,"operation":"fetch","output_sha256":null,"parameters":{},"performed_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.861141Z","seq":2,"tool":"archive-ingest 0.1.0"},{"description":"computed the SHA-256 of the bytes as retrieved, before any other step","input_sha256":null,"operation":"digest","output_sha256":null,"parameters":{},"performed_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.896228Z","seq":3,"tool":"archive-ingest 0.1.0"},{"description":"wrote the bytes to the staging directory under their content address","input_sha256":null,"operation":"stage","output_sha256":null,"parameters":{},"performed_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.933151Z","seq":4,"tool":"archive-ingest 0.1.0"},{"description":"kept the transcription in full so the archive can quote a passage without leaving itself","input_sha256":null,"operation":"hold","output_sha256":null,"parameters":{},"performed_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.968270Z","seq":5,"tool":"archive-ingest 0.1.0"}]},"published_date":null,"published_date_text":"1894","publisher_text":"New York : American Book Company","r2_key":"document/db/db1d50ff19209570ef3b1056cf86175da956d8df7b3b38f4111ea04df90ecf1c.txt","record_kind":"document","sha256":"db1d50ff19209570ef3b1056cf86175da956d8df7b3b38f4111ea04df90ecf1c","slug":"the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","status":"published","summary":"Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852, 1894. A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":"Google \n\n\n\nThis is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project \n\nto make the world's books discoverable online. \n\nIt has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject \n\nto copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books \n\nare our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. \n\nMarks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the \n\npublisher to a library and finally to you. \n\nUsage guidelines \n\nGoogle is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the \npublic and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to \nprevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. \nWe also ask that you: \n\n+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for \npersonal, non-commercial purposes. \n\n+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine \ntranslation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the \nuse of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. \n\n+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt \"watermark\" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find \nadditional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. \n\n+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just \nbecause we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other \ncountries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of \nany specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner \nanywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. \n\nAbout Google Book Search \n\nGoogle's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers \ndiscover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web \n\nat |http: //books .google .com/I \n\n\n\nJpCLECTIC _ \n\nL^KSU^f^ Classic \n\n\n\ny^^jF^- \n\n\n\niK ' (ISA i it >^JSr I tN \n\n\n\nBUNKER H!LL MONUMRNT \n\nTHE CHARACTRR OF WASHINGTON \n\nAND TH[I I.AND;Nn AT PI YMOUTH \n\n\n\n\nlUNIEL WFKSTIH \n\n\n\nt \n\n\n\nNuvYiikCiiiciuiiiiU-Cliiciiyo- \n\nAmerican-Book- Company- \n\n\n\nU$55Z3,3? \n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY OF THE \n\n\n\nDepartment of Education \n\n\n\nCOLLECTION OF TEXT-BOOKS \nContributed bj the PublisberE \n\n\n\nf ■ ■ ,. ■• A \n\n\n\nf^ \n\n\n\n\n\nsi a^-^J^- ^eA^fi^r \n\n\n\n\nECLECTIC ENGLISH CLASSICS \n\n\n\nO \n\n\n\nTHE ORATIONS ON \n\nBUNKER HILL MONiQMENT \nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON \nAND THE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH \n\n\n\nBY \n\nDANIEL WEBSTER \n\n\n\n¥ \n\n\n\nNEW YORK • : • CINCINNATI . : . CHICAGO \n\nAMERICAN BOOK COMPANY \n\n1894 \n\n\n\n\nIS^^zis^' \n\n\n\nHarvard College Libra rjr \n\nJan. 21,1910 \n\nfrom \n\n\n\nCopyright, 1894, by \nAmerican Book Company. \n\n\n\nWEBSTBR S ORATIONS EC. ENG. CLAS. \n\n\n\nPrinted by permission of Messrs. Little, Brown, & Co., \nthe authorized publishers of Webster's worlds. \n\n\n\ntM§on \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\n\nIt is a fact worthy of notice that, among all the masters of elo- \nquence known to history, only four have produced works which \nhave been generally recognized as contributions to the perma- \nnent literature of the world. These were Demosthenes in an- \ncient Athens, Cicero in old Rome, Edmund Burke in Great \nBritain, and Daniel Webster in America. A comparison of the \npublic discoiu-ses of these four great orators reveals, of course, \nmany differences resulting from the diversity of race, time, cir- \ncumstance, and the character of the audiences to whom they \nwere addressed. A closer examination, however, will disclose \nnumerous similarities in their fundamental construction, going \nfar to show that the principles of true eloquence are always and \neverywhere the same, and that the art which swayed the minds \nof multitudes of men twenty centuries ago remains in essential \npoints as unchanged as human thought itself. Between the ora- \ntions of Demosthenes, so distinctively ancient and Grecian, and \nthose of Webster, so distinctively modem and American, one \nmay detect a striking resemblance. Both are characterized by \nthe same sustained appeal to the understanding and by the \nsame clear-cut, vigorous, and perfectly intelligible course of r( \nsoning. In their unadorned simplicity each is the work \nsculptor rather than painter. \" To test Webster's oratory, which \n\n5 \n\n\n\nreaj \nof i \n\n\n\n6 INTRODUCTION, \n\nhas ever been very attractive to me,\" said the late \\^.. xFrancis \nLieber, \" I read a portion of my favorite speeches of Demos- \nthenes, and then read, always aloud, parts of Webster ; then re- \nturned to the Athenian : and Webster stood the test.\" This re- \nsemblance was not the result of any study of ancient models on \nMr. Webster's part, nor of any conscious or unconscious effort \nto imitate the masterpieces of Athenian eloquence. It was due \nrather to a similarity of intellectual powers wholly independent \nof time, or race, or other environment. \n\nThe quality of Webster's imagination, which was of an histori- \ncal rather than poetic cast, had much to do with the power and \npeculiar charm of his oratory. But it was his simplicity of dic- \ntion, and his perfect mastery of pure, idiomatic English, which \ngave to his discourses their distinctive classic elegance, and made \nthem worthy of a permanent place in our literature. As speci- \nmens, therefore, of a correct, clear, and vigorous style of com- \nposition, full of warmth and vitality, these orations are worthy \nof the most careful attention of every one who would perfect him- \nself in the use of the English tongue ; as notable examples of \npersuasive discourse, logical, forcible, and convincing, they es- \npecially commend themselves to those who aspire to distinction \nas public speakers ; as containing lessons of the purest and most \ndisinterested patriotism, they appeal to Americans everywhere, \nand should be read and studied by every American youth. \n\nDaniel Webster was bom in Salisbury (now FrankHn), N.H., \nJan. 1 8, 1782. His father, who was a farmer, had served as \na soldier in both the French and Indian and the Revolution- \nary Wars, and later became a member of the State Legis- \nlature, and judge of the county coiut. Being brought up in \npoverty, in a region aM|ttMAH|HhMHtt of civiliza- \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION, 7 \n\ntion, the boy had none of the opportunities which are now sup- \nposed to be indispensable to the making of a great man. His \nmother taught him to read, and as the schools which he attended \nduring his childhood were extremely inefficient, it is probable \nthat the best part of his early education was acquired at home. \nBeing a delicate child, he was generally exempt from the hard \ntasks required of other boys in his condition of life, and, while \nmuch of his time was devoted to play, he developed a passionate \neagerness for books. ** I read what I could get to read,\" he \nsays, \" went to school when I could, and when not at school was \na farmer's youngest boy, not good for much, for want of health \nand strength, but expected to do something. In those boyish \ndays there were two things which I did dearly love, — reading and \nplaying, passions which did not cease to struggle when boyhood \nwas over, (have they yet altogether ?) and in regard to which \nneither cita mors nor the victoria laeta could be said of either.\" \n\nWhen fourteen years of age, he was sent to the Phillips Exeter \nAcademy. There he made his first acquaintance with the world, \nsuffering much from the ridicule of his schoolmates, to whom his \nrustic clothes and uncouth manners were a source of great mer- \nriment. Although he made rapid progress in his studies, his lack \nof self-confidence was such, that he found it impossible to stand \nup and \" speak a piece \" before the school. At the end of nine \nmonths it was tliought best that he should return home ; and his \nfather made arrangements whereby he should continue his studies \nunder the tuition of a clergyman, the Rev. Samuel Wood, at \nBoscawen. This change was made in order that the lad might \nthe more quickly complete his preparation for college ; for, not- \nwithstanding the poverty of the family, his father had decided \nto give him as thorough an education as was then available. He \n\n\n\n8 INTRODUCTION, \n\nremained with Dr. Wood only six months, and in August, 1797, \ncontrived to enter Dartmouth College, from which he was duly \ngraduated in 1801. The college was at that time scarcely equal \nin efficiency to any well-equipped high school of the present day ; \nand Webster's scholarship was neither extensive nor profound. \nHe read everything that came to hand, and whatever was worthy \nof remembrance he never forgot. He acquired a fair knowledge \nof Latin literature, and gained a smattering of Greek and mathe- \nmatics. He was not only considered the best general scholar in \nthe college, but he was looked upon by both the faculty and the \nstudents as a remarkable man with an extraordinary career before \nhim. He soon overcame the boyish timidity which had been so \nmuch in his way at Exeter, and developed an especial inclination \nfor public speaking. Indeed, the fame of his eloquence extended \nbeyond the college walls ; and in 1800 he was invited by the towns- \npeople of Hanover to deliver the Fourth-of-July oration in their \nvillage. He had not then completed his eighteenth year ; yet in \nthat youthful speech, his first public utterance on questions of na- \ntional import, there was a distinct foreshadowing of the enduring \nwork which he was afterwards to perform for his countrymen and \nthe world. It was, of course, crude and imitative, as would be ex- \npected of a boy ; its language was florid in the extreme, and its \ngeneral style was that of the \" spread eagle,\" full of bombast and \nfigures of rhetoric ; but in its thought and leading purpose there \nbreathed the same manly, patriotic spirit that runs through all \nhis maturer utterances, and distinguishes them from the com- \nmonplace oratory of political demagogues. \n\nImmediately after leaving college, Mr. Webster began the \nstudy of law in the office of Thomas W. Thompson of Salis- \nbury ; but, wishing to earn money to help his elder brother \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION, 9 \n\nEzekiel to go through college, he soon afterwards went to Frye- \nburg, Me., and took charge of a small academy there, hi the \nfollowing year he returned to Salisbury, and remained with Mr. \nThompson until 1 804 ; then, desiring better opportunities for \nextending his legal knowledge, he went to Boston, where he en- \ntered the office of Christopher Gore, and where, in 1805, he was \nadmitted to the bar. He began practicing in Boscawen ; and in \n1807, having built up a fairly good business there, he turned it \nover to his brother Ezekiel, and removed to Portsmouth, then \nthe capital of the State. Being now fairly established in his pro- \nfession, he was married in 1808 to Grace Fletcher of Hopkin- \nton. He soon distinguished himself as the foremost lawyer in \nthe State, and attracted much attention by his eloquent utter- \nances in opposing the declaration of war against Great Britain. \nIn 181 2 he was elected to Congress by the Federalists, and on \ntaking his seat was placed on the Committee on Foreign Affairs. \nThe first public act which brought him into prominence as a \nmember of Congress was his introduction of a series of resolu- \ntions calling for an inquiry concerning the announcement to the \nUnited States of the revocation of Napoleon's decrees against \nAmerican shipping. This was followed a few months later by \nhis fu^t great speech in the House, — a speech in opposition \nto a bill for the encouragement of enlistments. In 18 14 he \nwas reelected to Congress; and in 18 16, at the expiration of his \nsecond term, he removed to Boston, where for seven years he \ndevoted himself exclusively to the practice of his profession. In \n181 8, by his management of the celebrated Dartmouth College \ncase, he achieved a success which not only placed him at the \nhead of the American bar, but gave him great prominence as an \nable exponent and uncompromising defender of the Federal Con- \n\n\n\nlo INTRODUCTION, \n\nstitution. The Legislature of New Hampshire had passed an act \nvirtually abrogating the original charter of the college, and pro- \nviding for the appointment of a new board of trustees. The old \nboard contested the legality of this act ; and a suit against the \nnew board, in action of trover for the college seal, was carried \nto the Superior Court of the State, where it was decided in favor \nof the defendants. Tl\\ereupon the case was carried to the Su- \npreme Court of the United States, where, through Mr. Webster's \nmanagement, the judgment of the State court was reversed, and \nthe act of the State Legislature was declared to be a violation of \nthat clause of the Federal Constitution which prohibits the States \nfrom passing laws in impairment of contracts. The decision \nwas of national importance, since it \" went further, perhaps, than \nany other in our history towards limiting State sovereignty, and \nextending the jurisdiction of the Federal Supreme Court.\" \n\nOn Dec. 22, 1820, the two hundredth anniversary of the \nlanding of the Pilgrims, Mr. Webster delivered his famous dis- \ncourse on the \" First Settlement of New England,\" — the first of \nthose great efforts which placed him among the foremost orators \nof the world. In 1822 he was again elected a representative to \nCongress, this time from Boston; and in 1824 and 1826 he was \nreelected. In 1827 he resigned his membership in the House to \naccept a seat in the Senate, where he remained, by successive \nreelections, until 1841. His oration on the laying of the comer \nstone of Bunker Hill Monument, in 1825, and that on Adams \nand Jefferson {1826), are among the noblest historical addresses \never delivered. \" The spirit of these orations is that of the \nbroadest patriotism enlightened by a clear perception of the \nfundamental importance of the Federal union between the States, \nand an ever-present consciousness of the mighty future of our \n\n\n\nI- \n\n\n\nINTROD UCTION, 1 1 \n\ncountry, and its moral significance in the history of the world.\" \nIn the Bunker Hill oration he appeared at his best. His style \nhad been perfected, and he \" touched his highest point in the \ndifficult task of commemorative oratory.\" Eighteen years later, \nupon the completion of the monument, he was called upon to \ndeliver a second address at the same place and upon the same \ntheme. This later effort, although it failed to attain to the mas- \nsive dignity and grandeur of the first, must always be regarded as \none of the finest examples of patriotic oratory to which Americans \nhave ever Ustened. \n\nFrom the beginning of his career in the United States Senate, \nMr. Webster was naturally recognized as one of the most influ- \nential men in the nation, and, had he been more distinctively a \npartisan, it is not improbable that he would eventually have \noccupied the President's chair. But his patriotism was superior \nto personal ambition ; and his powers as a statesman and orator, \ninstead of being directed to the aggrandizement of the party with \nwhich he was affiliated, were devoted to the defense of the Con- \nstitution and the preservation of the Union. In 1830 he de- \nHvered his celebrated second speech on Footers resolution, gen- \nerally known as the ** Reply to Hayne,\" in which he reached the \nculmination of his career as an orator. It was delivered in refu- \ntation of a speech by Mr. Hayne accusing the New-England \nStates of attempting to aggrandize themselves at the expense of \nall the rest of the Union, and defending South Carolina in her \nproposed policy of nullification. Although Mr. Webster's fame \nextended in the years which followed, and he made many other \nspeeches, he never again attained to so high a point as in that \nremarkable and memorable discourse. It was a speech for \nwhich, as he himself said, his whole life had been in a certain \n\n\n\n1 2 IN TROD UCTION. \n\nsense a preparation. Of all the speeches ever made in Congress \nthere has probably never been another that has been so widely \nread, or has had so great influence in the shaping of men's \nthoughts. In 1 84 1 Mr. Webster was appointed Secretary of \nState by President Harrison, and upon the death of the latter he \nwas continued in office by President Tyler until after the com- \npletion of the famous Ashburton Treaty with Great Britain, in \n1842. He then returned to the practice of law in Boston ; but in \n1844 he was again appointed to the Senate, where he distin- \nguished himself by opposing the admission of Texas as a slave \nState, and strenuously combating the prosecution of the Mexican \nWar. In 1848 and again in 1/852 he was a candidate before the \nnational convention of Whigs for the nomination to the Presi- \ndency, but was defeated in the first case by General Taylor and \nin the second by General Scott. In 1850, led by a zealous desire \nto promote peace between the opposing political factions, he was \ninduced to give his adhesion to Clay's \" compromise measures,\" \nand on the 7th of March delivered his last great speech, — a \nspeech in which he favored the enforcement of the Fugitive Slave \nLaw, and opposed the Wilmot Proviso for the exclusion of slav- \nery from the new Territories thereafter acquired by the United \nStates. This speech was a great disappointment to his friends, \nand lost him the support and confidence of the Whig party. In \nthe latter part of the same year, however, he was appointed Sec- \nretary of State by President Fillmore. This position he held un- \ntil May, 1852, when he resigned on account of ill health, and \nretired to his home at Marshfield, Mass., where he died on the \n24th of October in the same year. \n\nIn the great influence which Mr. Webster, as a public speaker, \nwielded over the minds of his hearers, he was aided by his re- \n\n\n\nINTROD UCTION, 1 3 \n\nmarkable physical attributes. He possessed in a wonderful de- \ngree an indefinable personal magnetism which impressed every \none with a sense of his greatness. His face, his eyes, his voice, \nwere such that whoever looked upon him and heard him speak, \nfelt intuitively that he was a man of most extraordinary powers. \nSydney Smith, when he saw him, exclaimed, \" Good heavens! he \nis a small cathedral by himself ; \" and Carlyle, writing of him, \nsaid, \" He is a magnificent specimen. As a logic fencer or \nparhamentary Hercules, one would incline to back him at first \nsight against all the extant world. The tanned complexion ; the \namorphous crag-like face ; the dull black eyes under the precipice \nof brows, like dull anthracite furnaces needing only to be blown; \nthe mastiff mouth accurately closed, — I have not traced so much \nof silent Berserker rage that I remember of in any man.\" \n\nOf the quality of Webster's oratory, the Hon. Rufus Choate \nsays, \"His multiform eloquence became at once so much acces- \nsion to permanent literature, in the strictest sense solid, attractive, \nand rich. Recall what pervaded all these forms of display, and \nevery effort in every form : that union of naked intellect, in its \nlargest measure, which penetrates to the exact truth of the matter \nin hand by intuition or by inference, and discerns everything \nwhich may make it intelligible, probable, and credible to an- \nother, with an emotional and moral nature profound, passionate, \nand ready to kindle, and with imagination enough to supply a \nhundredfold more of illustration and aggrandizement than his \ntaste suffered him to accept ; that union of greatness of soul with \ndepth of heart which made his speaking almost more an exhibi- \ntion of character than of mere genius ; the style not merely pure, \nclear Saxon, but so constructed, so numerous as far as becomes \nprose, so forcible, so abounding in unlabored felicities, the words \n\n\n\n14 INTRODUCTION. \n\nSO choice, the epithet so pictured, the matter absolute truth, or \nthe most exact and spacious resemblance the human wit can de- \nvise ; the treatment of the subject, if you have regard to the kind \nof truth he had to handle, — political, ethical, legal, — as deep \nas Paley's, or Locke's, or Butler's, . . . yet that depth and \nthat completeness of sense made transparent as crystal waters, \nraised on winged language, vivified, fused, and poured along in \na tide of emotion fervid, and incapable to be withstood.\" \n\nThe history of Bunker Hill Monument and of the circum- \nstances attending the delivery of Webster's famous orations — \nthe one at the laying of its comer stone, the other at its comple- \ntion — may be briefly narrated. \n\nGen. Joseph Warren, the hero of the battle of Bunker Hill, \nand the first prominent martyr of the Revolutionary War, was \nburied upon the hill on the day following the action, June i8, \n1775. Early in the following year the Massachusetts Lodge of \nMasons, of which he had been the presiding officer, applied to \nthe Provisional Government of the Colony for permission to take \nup his remains, and inter them with the usual ceremonies and \nsolemnities of the order. The request was granted, on condition \nthat nothing should be done that would prevent the government \nfrom erecting at some future time a monument to his memory. \nThis may be regarded as the first movement made towards com- \nmemorating in any way the historic struggle on Bunker Hill ; and \nyet, although a funeral procession was formed, and a fitting eulogy \non Gen. Warren was delivered, no measures were taken towards \nthe building of a monument. \n\nOn the 8th of April, 1777, however, a resolution was adopted \nby the Continental Congress, directing that monuments should \nbe erected to Gen. Warren in Boston and to Gen. Mercer at Fred- \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 15 \n\nericksburg ; but no steps were ever taken towards the carrying \nout of this resolution. \n\nIn 1794 the lodge of Masons at Charlestown decided to \nerect a monument to Gen. Warren at their own expense. Land \nfor that purpose was donated to the lodge by the Hon. James \nRussell of Charlestown, and the monument was dedicated with \nappropriate ceremonies on the 2d of December of the same \nyear. This monument was a wooden pillar, eighteen feet in \nheight, raised on a pedestal eight feet square, at an elevation of \nten feet from the ground. On the summit of the pillar was a \ngilt urn, and on the south side of the pedestal an appropriate \ninscription was engraved. \n\nIt was not until still thirty years later that any decisive steps \nwere taken towards the building of a monument which should \ncommemorate in a general way the battle of Bunker Hill, and \nshould stand as the nation's expression of honor and gratitude to \nthose who fell there in the defense of American liberty. In 1824 \nan association was formed, under the leadership of William Tudor, \nEsq., to whose enthusiasm and perseverance the final success of \nthe undertaking was largely due. After various private confer- \nences among those who were most deeply interested in the proj- \nect, it was decided to lay the corner stone of the monument on \nthe 17th of June, 1825, the fiftieth anniversary of the battle ; and, \nin order to excite enthusiasm in favor of the work. Gen. La- \nfayette, at that time the nation's guest, was invited to be present, \nand participate in the ceremonies. Free transportation was of- \nfered to all surviving soldiers of the Revolution, and every effort \nwas made to enlist a national interest in the patriotic occasion. \n\n\"The celebration,\" says Mr. Frothingham, ''was unequaled \nin magnificence by anything of the kind that had been seen in \n\n\n\n1 6 IN TROD UCTION, \n\nNew England. The morning proved propitious. The air was \ncool, the sky was clear, and timely showers the previous day had \nbrightened the vesture of Nature into its lovehest hue. Delighted \nthousands flocked into Boston to bear a part in the proceedings, \nor to witness the spectacle. At about ten o'clock a procession \nmoved from the State House towards Bunker Hill. The military, \nin their fine uniforms, formed the van. About two hundred vet- \nerans of the Revolution, of whom forty were survivors of the \nbattle, rode in barouches next to the escort. These venerable \nmen, the rehcs of a past generation, with emaciated frames, tot- \ntering limbs, and trembling voices, constituted a touching spec- \ntacle. Some wore, as honorable decorations, their old fighting \nequipments; and some bore the scars of still more honorable \nwounds. Glistening eyes constituted their answer to the enthu- \nsiastic cheers of the grateful multitudes who lined their pathway, \nand cheered their progress. To this patriot band succeeded the \nBunker Hill Monument Association ; then the Masonic frater- \nnity, in their splendid regalia, thousands in number; then La- \nfayette, continually welcomed by tokens of love and gratitude, \nand the invited guests; then a long array of societies, with \ntheir various badges and banners. It was a splendid procession, \nand of such length that the front nearly reached Charlestown \nBridge ere the rear had left Boston Common. It proceeded to \nBreed's Hill, where the Grand Master of the Freemasons, the \nPresident of the Moniunent Association, and Gen. Lafayette per- \nformed the ceremony of laying the comer stone in the presence \nof a vast concourse of people.\" The procession then moved \nto the northern declivity of the hill, where Mr. Webster delivered \nhis oration to a large and appreciative audience. \n\nWhen the comer stone of the Bunker Hill Monument was thus \n\n\n\nIN TROD UCTION, 1 7 \n\nlaid in 1825, no definite plan for its construction had been de- \ncided upon. Among other designs for the proposed monument, \none submitted by Solomon Willard, an architect of Boston, was \nfinally adopted; and in 1827 the foundation was laid and the \nwork of construction begun. The funds on hand, amounting \nto about $55,000, were soon exhausted, however, and in the fol- \nlowing year the work was temporarily abandoned. In 1834 a \nrenewed effort was made, a considerable amount of money was \nraised by subscription, and the building of the great stone shaft \nwas renewed. But the committee having the affair in charge \nsoon found itself without further available means, and prog- \nress was again suspended. In 1840 the ladies of Boston and \nthe vicinity took hold of the enterprise. A fair was held in \nFaneuil Hall, to which every woman in the United States had \nbeen invited to contribute, and every effort was made to increase \nthe list of subscriptions. The result was, that a contract was \nsoon afterwards entered into with Mr. Savage of Boston, to fin- \nish the moniunent for $43,000. The work was pushed forward \nwith all reasonable dispatch, and the last stone was raised to the \napex at six o'clock in the morning of July 23, 1842. \n\nThe monument, which is in the form of an obelisk, is built of \nQuincy granite, is thirty feet in diameter at the base, and about \nfifteen feet at the top of the truncated part. It consists of ninety \ncourses of stone, six of them below the ground, and eighty-four \nabove. It was intended that it should be two hundred and \ntwenty feet high; but the precise height is two hundred and \ntwenty-one feet. The observatory at the top is seventeen feet \nhigh, and eleven feet in diameter. The cap stone, or apex, is \na single stone four feet square at the base, and three feet six \ninches in height, weighing two tons and a half. \n2 \n\n\n\n1 8 INTRODUCTION, \n\nIt was arranged by the directors that the completion of the \nwork should be celebrated on the 17 th of the following June, the \nsixty-eighth anniversary of the battle; and Mr. Webster was \ninvited to deliver the oration. \" Many circumstances,\" says \nEdward Everett, \" conspired to increase the interest of the occa- \nsion. . . . The President of the United States and his Cabinet \nhad accepted invitations to be present ; delegations of the de- \nscendants of New England were present from the remotest parts \nof the Union ; one hundred and eight surviving veterans of the \nRevolution, among whom were some who were in the battle of \nBunker Hill, imparted a touching interest to the scene. . . . Mr. \nWebster was stationed upon an elevated platform in front of \nthe audience and of the monument towering in the background. \nAccording to Mr. Frothingham's estimate, a hundred thousand \npersons were gathered about the spot, and nearly half that num- \nber are supposed to have been within the reach of the orator's \nvoice. The ground rises slightly between the platform and the \nMonument Square, so that the whole of this immense concourse \n— compactly crowded together, breathless with attention, swayed \nby one sentiment of admiration and delight — was within the full \nview of the speaker. The position and the occasion were the \nheight of the moral sublime.\" \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. \n\nAN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER \n\nSTONE OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT AT \n\nCHARLESTOWN, MASS., ON THE 1 7TH \n\nOF JUNE, 1825. \n\n\n\nTHIS uncounted multitude before me and around me proves \nthe feeling which the occasion has excited. These thou- \nsands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and from \nthe impulses of a common gratitude turned reverently to heaven \nin this spacious temple of the firmament, proclaim that the day, \nthe place, and the purpose of our assembling, have made a deep \nimpression on our hearts. \n\nIf, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to affect \nthe mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions \nwhich agitate us here. We are among the sepulchers of our \nfathers. We are on ground distinguished by their valor, their \nconstancy, and the shedding of their blood. We are here, not \nto fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor to draw into notice an \nobscure and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had never \nbeen conceived, if we ourselves had never been bom, the 1 7th \nof June, 1775, would have been a day on which all subsequent \nhistory would have poured its light, and the eminence where we \nstand, a point of attraction to the eyes of successive generations. \nBut we are Americans. We live in what may be called the \" early \nage \" of this great continent ; and we know that our posterity, \nthrough all time, are here to enjoy and suffer the allotments of \n\n19 \n\n\n\n20 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nhumanity. We see before us a probable train of great events ; \nwe know that our own fortunes have been happily cast ; and it \nis natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contempla- \ntion of occurrenjces which have guided our destiny before many \nof us were bom, and settled the condition in which we should \npass that portion of our existence which God allows to men on \nearth. \n\nWe do not read even of the discovery of this continent with- \nout feeling something of a personal interest in the event, without \nbeing reminded how much it has affected our own fortunes and \nour own existence. It would be still more unnatural for us, there- \nfore, than for otherg, to contemplate with unaffected minds that \ninteresting, I may say that most touching and pathetic scene, \nwhen the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his \nshattered bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man \nsleeping ; tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the \nstronger billows of alternate hope and despair tossing his own \ntroubled thoughts ; extending forward his harassed frame, strain- \ning westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last \ngranted him a moment of rapture and ecstasy, in blessing his \nvision with the sight of the unknown world. \n\nNearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, \nand therefore still more interesting to our feelings and affections, \nis the settlement of our own country by colonists from Etigland. \nWe cherish every memorial of these worthy ancestors ; we cele- \nbrate their patience and fortitude ; we admire their daring enter- \nprise ; we teach our children to venerate their piety ; and we are \njustly proud of being descended from men who have set the \nworld an example of foimding civil institutions on the great and \nunited principles of human freedom and human knowledge. To \nus their children, the stor\\' of their labors and sufferings can \nnever be without its interest. We shall not stand unmoved on \nthe shores of Plymouth while the sea continues to wash it ; nor \nwill our brethren in another early and ancient Colony forget the \nplace of its first establishment till their river shall cease to flow \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 21 \n\nby it.^ No vigor of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead \nthe nation to forget the spots where its infancy was cradled and \ndefended. \n\nBut the great event in the history of the continent, which we \nare now met here to commemorate, that prodigy of modem \ntimes, at once the wonder and the blessing of the world, is the \nAmerican Revolution. In a day of extraordinary prosperity and \nhappiness, of high national honor, distinction, and power, we are \nbrought together in this place by our love of country, by our \nadmiration of exalted character, by our gratitude for signal ser- \nvices and patriotic devotion. \n\nThe Society whose organ I am 2 was formed for the purpose \nof rearing some honorable and durable monument to the memory \nof the early friends of American independence. They have \nthought that for this object no time could be more propitious \nthan the present prosperous and peaceful period, that no place \ncould claim preference over this memorable spot, and that no \nday could be more auspicious to the undertaking than the anni- \nversary of the battle which was here fought. The foundation of \nthat monument we have now laid. With solemnities ^ suited to \nthe occasion, with prayers to Almighty God for his blessing, and \nin the midst of this cloud of witnesses, we have begun the work. \n\n1 As nearly every one of the Colonies was founded on the bank of a river, \nit is not clear which is alluded to here. Edward Everett, whose edition of \nthe orations appeared while Webster was still living, mentions the settlement \nof the Maryland Colony on the St. Mary's River. \"The 'Ark* and the \n* Dove,* \" he says, \" are remembered with scarcely less interest by the de- \nscendants of the sister Colony than is the * Mayflower * in New England, \nwhich thirteen years earlier, at the same season of the year, bore thither the \nPilgrim Fathers.** \n\n2 Mr. Webster was at that time president of the Bunker Hill Monument \nAssociation, having been appointed to that position as the successor of Gov. \nJohn Brooks, the first president. \n\n3 Besides the laying of the comer stone with Masonic ceremonies, there \nwas prayer by the Rev. Joseph Thaxter, and an ode was read by the Rev. \nJohn Pierpont of Boston. \n\n\n\n2 2 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nWe trust it will be prosecuted, and that, springing from a broad \nfoundation, rising high in massive solidity and unadorned \ngrandeur, it may remain as long as Heaven permits the works \nof man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events in memory of \nwhich it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who have reared it. \nWe know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most \nsafely deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We \nknow that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only \ntill it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces \ncould still contain but part of that which, in an age of knowl- \nedge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which liistory \ncharges itself with making known to all future times. We know \nthat no inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth it- \nself can carry information of the events we commemorate where \nit has not already gone ; and that no structure which shall not \noutlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men can \nprolong the memorial. But our object is, by this edifice, to show \nour own deep sense of the value and importance of the achieve- \nments of our ancestors, and, by presenting this work of gratitude \nto the eye, to keep alive similar sentiments, and to foster a con- \nstant regard for the principles of the Revolution. Human be- \nings are composed not of reason only, but of imagination also, \nand sentiment ; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied which \nis appropriated to the piupose of giving right direction to senti- \nments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the heart. Let \nit not be supposed that our object is to perpetuate national hos- \ntility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher, \npurer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national \nindependence, and we wish that the light of peace may rest \nupon it forever. We rear a memorial of our conviction of \nthat unmeasured benefit which has been conferred on our own \nland, and of the happy influences which have been produced, by \nthe same events, on the general interests of mankind. We come, \nas Americans, to mark a spot which must forever be dear to us \nand our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming time, \n\n\n\n-■.mJA \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 23 \n\nshall turn his eye hither may behold that the place is not undis- \ntinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was \nfought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magni- \ntude and importance of that event to every class and every age. \nWe wish that infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from \nmaternal lips, and that weary and withered age may behold it, \nand be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish \nthat labor may look up here, and be proud in the midst of its \ntoil. We wish that in those days of disaster, which, as they \ncome upon all nations, must be expected to come upon us also, \ndesponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be as- \nsured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. \nWe wish that this column, rising towards heaven among the \npointed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may contrib- \nute also to produce in all minds a pious feeling of dependence \nand gratitude. We wish, finally, that the last object to the sight \nof him who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden his \nwho revisits it, may be something which shall remind him of the \nliberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise! let it rise till \nit meet the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of the morn- \ning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit. \n\nWe Hve in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and \nso important that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, \nare in our times compressed within the compass of a single life. \nWhen has it happened that history has had so much to record, \nin the same term of years, as since the 17th of June, 1775 ? \nOur own Revolution, which, under other circumstances, might \nitself have been expected to occasion a war of half a century, \nhas been achieved, twenty-four sovereign and independent States \nerected, and a general government established over them, so safe, \nso wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its estab- \nlishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it not far \nthe greater wonder that it should have been established at all. \nTwo or three millions of people have been augmented to twelve. \n\n\n\n24 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nthe great forests of the West prostrated beneath the arm of suc- \ncessful industry, and the dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and \nthe Mississippi become the fellow citizens and neighbors of those \nwho cultivate the hills of New England. ^ We have a commerce \nthat leaves no sea unexplored, navies which take no law from \nsuperior force, revenues adequate to all the exigencies of gov- \nernment, almost without taxation, and peace with all nations, \nfounded on equal rights and mutual respect. \n\nEurope, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty \nrevolution 2 which, while it has been felt in the individual condi- \ntion and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the cen- \nter her political fabric, and dashed against one another thrones \nwhich had stood tranquil for ages. On this our continent, our \nown example has been followed, and colonies have sprung up to \nbe nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free govern- \nment have reached us from beyond the track of the sun ; ^ and at \nthis moment the dominion of European power in this continent,* \nfrom the place where we stand to the south pole, is annihilated \nforever. \n\nIn the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been \nthe general progress of knowledge, such the improvement in leg- \nislation, in commerce, in the arts, in letters, and, above all, in \nliberal ideas and the general spirit of the age, that the whole \nworld seems changed. \n\n1 This has been more than realized by the introduction of railroads, mak- \ning the people even of the Pacific coast neighbors of the people of New Eng- \nland. Edward Everett mentions as an interesting circumstance, the fact that \nthe first railroad on the Western continent was built for the purjwse of aiding \nin the erection of this monument. It was a horse railroad from Quincy to \nBoston, and was used for transporting the blocks of granite from the quarries. \n\n2 The French Revolution and the wars resulting from it. \n\n3 The allusion is to the then recent establishment of republican govern- \nments in South America. / \n\n* The Monroe Doctrine, enunciated by President Monroe in his message \nto Congress in 1823, was virtually a declaration that no European power \nshould be permitted to secure further dominion on the American continent. \n\n\n\n- ■■ -- ■— -- . -■- ■ \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 25 \n\nYet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the \nthings which have happened since the day of the battle of \nBunker Hill, we are but fifty years removed from it ; and we \nnow stand here to enjoy all the blessings of our own condition, \nand to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the world, \nwhile we still have among us some of those who were active \nagents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every \nquarter of New England,* to visit once more, and under circum- \nstances so affecting, — I had almost said so overwhelming, — this \nrenowned theater of their courage and patriotism. \n\nVenerable men, you have come down to us from a former \ngeneration. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, \nthat you might behold this joyous day. You are how where you \nstood fifty years ago this very hour, with your brothers and your \nneighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. \nBehold, how altered! The same heavens are indeed over your \nheads; the same ocean rolls at your feet: but all else how \nchanged ! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no \nmixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charles- \ntown. The ground strewed with the dead and the dying ; the \nimpetuous charge ; the steady and successful repulse ; the loud \ncall to repeated assault ; the summoning of all that is manly to \nrepeated resistance ; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared \nin an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death, \n— all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All \nis peace. The heights of yonder metropolis,^ its towers and roofs, \n— which you then saw filled with wives and children and country- \nmen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions \nfor the issue of the combat, — have presented you to-day with the \nsight of its whole happy population come out to welcome and \ngreet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a \n\n1 There were nearly two hundred of them, forty of whom had been in the \nbattle of Bunker Hill. \ns Boston. \n\n\n\n26 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nfelicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount,^ \nand seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoy- \nance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and \ndefense. All is peace ; and God has granted you this sight of \nyour country's happiness ere you slumber in the grave. He has \nallowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your pa- \ntriotic toils ; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, \nto meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in \nthe name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you. \n\nBut, alas ! you are not all here. Time and the sword have \nthinned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, \nPomeroy, Bridge, — our eyes seek for you in vain amid this broken \nband. You are gathered to your fathers, and hve only to your \ncountry in her grateful remembrance and your own bright exam- \nple. But let us not too much grieve that you have met the \ncommon fate of men. You lived at least long enough to know \nthat your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. \nYou lived to see your country's independence established, and \nto sheathe your swords from war. On the light of Liberty you \nsaw arise the light of Peace, like \n\n\"Another mom, \nRisen on mid noon ; \" 2 \n\nand the sky on which you closed yoiu* eyes was cloudless. \n\nBut ah ! him, the first great martyr ^ in this great cause ; \nhim, the premature victim of his own self-devoting heart; \nhim, the head of our civil councils and the destined leader of \nour military bands, whom nothing brought hither but the un- \nquenchable fire of his own spirit ; him, cut oflF by Providence \n\n1 The United States Navy Yard at Charlestown is situated at the base of \nBunker Hill. \n\n2 Paradise Lost, v. 310. \n\n* Gen. Joseph Warren, born in 1741, was a man of fine culture and \nunusual promise. He had been elected president of the Provincial Congress, \nand was one of the most ardent patriots of the time. \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 27 \n\nin the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom, falling \nere he saw the star of his country rise, pouring out his generous \nblood like water before he knew whether it would fertilize a land \nof freedom or of bondage, — how shall I struggle with the emo- \ntions that stifle the utterance of thy name ! Our poor work \nmay perish; but thine shall endure. This monument may \nmolder away ; the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to \na level with the sea : but thy memory shall not fail. Whereso- \never among men a heart shall be found that beats to the trans- \nports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim \nkindred with thy spirit. \n\nBut the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to \nconfine our thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits \nwho hazarded or lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We \nhave the happiness to rejoice here in the presence of a most \nworthy representation of the survivors of the whole Revolutionary \narmy. \n\nVeterans, you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. \nYou bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, \nfrom Yorktown, Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. Veterans \nOF HALF A century, when in your youthful days you put every- \nthing at hazard in your country^^s cause, — good as that cause was, \nand sanguine as youth is, — still your fondest hopes did not stretch \nonward to an hour like this. At a period to which you could \nnot reasonably have expected to arrive, at a moment of national \nprosperity such as you could never have foreseen, you are now \nmet here to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive \nthe overflowings of a universal gratitude. \n\nBut your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts in- \nform me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that \na tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images \nof the dead, as well as the persons of the living, present them- \nselves before you. The scene overwhelms you, and I turn from \nit. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining \nyears, and bless them ! And when you shall here have ex- \n\n\n\n28 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nchanged your embraces, when you shall once more have pressed \nthe hands which have been so often extended to give succor in \nadversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, then look abroad \nupon this lovely land which your young valor defended, and \nmark the happiness with which it is filled ; yea, look abroad upon \nthe whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to \ngive to your country, and what a praise you have added to free- \ndom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which beam \nupon your last days from the improved condition of mankind ! \n\nThe occasion does not require of me any particular account of \nthe battle of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any detailed narrative \nof the events which immediately preceded it. These are famil- \niarly known to all. In the progress of the great and interesting \ncontroversy, Massachusetts and the town of Boston had become \nearly and marked objects of the displeasure of the British Parlia- \nment. This had been manifested in the act for altering the gov- \nernment of the Province, and in that for shutting up the port of \nBoston.^ Nothing sheds more honor on our early history, and \nnothing better shows how little the feelings and sentiments of the \nColonies were known or regarded in England, than the impres- \nsion which these measures everywhere produced in America. It \nhad been anticipated that, while the Colonies in general would \nbe terrified by the severity of the punishment inflicted on Mas- \nsachusetts, the other seaports would be governed by a mere spirit \nof gain ; and that, as Boston was now cut off from all commerce, \nthe unexpected advantage which this blow on her was calculated \nto confer on other towns would be greedily enjoyed. How mis- \nerably such reasoners deceived themselves ! How little they \nknew of the depth and the strength and the intenseness of that \nfeeling of resistance to illegal acts of power which possessed the \nwhole American people ! Everywhere the unworthy boon was \n\n1 The Boston Port Bill, passed by the British Parliament in 1774, declared \nthat port to be closed, and transferred the seat of colonial government to \nSalem. \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 29 \n\nrejected with scorn. The fortunate occasion was seized every- \nwhere, to show to the whole world that the Colonies were swayed \nby no local interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The \ntemptation to profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest \nto our neighbors of Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place \nwhere this miserable proffer was spurned in a tone of the most \nlofty self-respect and the most indignant patriotism. \" We are \ndeeply affected,\" said its inhabitants, \" with the sense of our pub- \nlic calamities ; but the miseries that are now rapidly hastening \non our brethren in the capital of the Province greatly excite our \ncommiseration. By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine \nthat the course of trade might be turned hither and to our bene- \nfit ; but we must be dead to every idea of justice, lost to all feel- \nings of humanity, could we indulge a thought to seize on wealth, \nand raise our fortunes, on the ruin of our suffering neighbors.\" \nThese noble sentiments were not confined to our immediate vi- \ncinity. In that day of general affection and brotherhood, the \nblow given to Boston smote on every patriotic heart from one \nend of the country to the other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as \nwell as Connecticut and New Hampshire, felt and proclaimed \nthe cause to be their own. The Continental Congress, then \nholding its first session in Philadelphia, expressed its sympathy \nfor the suffering inhabitants of Boston; and addresses were \nreceived from all quarters assuring them that the cause was a \ncommon one, and should be met by common efforts and com- \nmon sacrifices. The Congress of Massachusetts responded to \nthese assurances ; and in an address to the Congress at Philadel- \nphia, bearing the official signature (perhaps among the last) of \nthe immortal Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its suffer- \ning and the magnitude of the dangers which threatened it, it was \ndeclared that this Colony \" is ready at all times to spend and to \nbe spent in the cause of America.\" \n\nBut the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the \nproof, and to determine whether the authors of these mutual \npledges were ready to seal them in blood. The tidings of Lex- \n\n\n\n30 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nington and Concord had no sooner spread than it was univer- \nsally felt that the time was at last come for action. A spirit per- \nvaded all ranks, not transient, not boisterous, but deep, solemn, \ndetermined, \n\n'* Totamque infusa per artus \nMens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.\" ^ \n\nWar on their own soil and at their own doors was, indeed, a \nstrange work to the yeomanry of New England ; but their con- \nsciences were convinced of its necessity, their country called them \nto it, and they did not withhold themselves from the perilous trial. \nThe ordinary occupations of life were abandoned ; the plow was \nstayed in the unfinished furrow ; wives gave up their husbands, \nand mothers gave up their sons, to the battles of a civil war. \nDeath might come, in honor, on the field; it might come, in \ndisgrace, on the scaffold : for either and for both they were pre- \npared. The sentiment of Quincy^ was full in their hearts. \n\" Blandishments,\" said that distinguished son of genius and pa- \ntriotism, \" will not fascinate us, nor will tlireats of a halter intim- \nidate; for, under God, we are determined that wheresoever, \nwhensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, \nwe will die free men.\" \n\nThe 17th of June saw the four New-England Colonies ^ stand- \ning here side by side to triumph or to fall together ; and there \nwas with them, from that moment to the end of the war, what I \nhope will remain with them forever, one cause, one country, one \nheart. \n\nThe battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most impor- \n\n1 -^neid, Lib. VI. 725, William Morris's translation : — \n\n\" One soul is shed through all, \nThat quickeneth all the mass, and with the mighty thing is blent.\" \n\n2 Josiah Quincy, Jr. (born in 1744; died at sea, 1775), was one of the \nmost energetic opponents of British usurpation, and with Warren and James \nOtis exerted an early and very great influence in favor of the freedom of the \nAmerican Colonies. \n\n3 Massachusetts, New HMktfH^^HHBlHfc Ctanecticiit \n\n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 31 \n\ntant effects beyond its immediate results as a military engage- \nment. It created at once a state of open, public war. There \ncould now be no longer a question of proceeding against indi- \nviduals as guilty of treason or rebellion. That fearful crisis was \npast. The appeal lay to the sword ; and the only question was, \nwhether the spirit and the resources of the people would hold \nout till the object should be accomplished. Nor were its gen- \neral consequences confined to our own country. The previous \nproceedings of the Colonies, their appeals, resolutions, and ad- \ndresses, had made their cause known to Europe. Without boast- \ning, we may say that in no age or country has the public cause \nbeen maintained with more force of argument, more power of \nillustration, or more of that persuasion which excited feeling and \nelevated principle can alone bestow, than the Revolutionary state \npapers exhibit. These papers will forever deserve to be studied, \nnot only for the spirit which they breathe, but for the ability with \nwhich they were written. \n\nTo this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now \nadded a practical and severe proof of their own true devotion to \nit, and given evidence also of the power which they could bring \nto its support. All now saw that, if America fell, she would not \nfall without a struggle. Men felt sympathy and regard, as well \nas surprise, when they beheld these infant states, remote, un- \nknown, unaided, encounter the power of England, and, in the \nfirst considerable battle, leave more of their enemies dead on the \nfield, in proportion to the number of combatants,' than had been \nrecently known to fall in the wars of Europe. \n\nInformation of these events, circulating throughout the world, \nat length reached the ears of one who now hears me.^ He has \n\n1 There were engaged in the battle about 1 , 500 Americans and 2, 500 British. \nThe losses of the Americans were 1 1 5 killed, 305 wounded, 30 captured : total \n450. The British lost 206 killed, 828 wounded: total 1,054. \n\n2 ** Among the earliest of the arrangements for the celebration of the 17th \nof June, 1825, was the invitation to Gen. Lafayette to be present; and he \nhad so timed his progress through the other States as to return to Massachu- \nsetts in season for the great occasion.*' — Everett. \n\n\n\n32 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nnot forgotten the emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill and \nthe name of Warren excited in his youthful breast. \n\nSir, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of \ngreat public principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distin- \nguished dead. The occasion is too severe for eulogy of the liv- \ning. But, sir, your interesting relation to this country, the pecul- \niar circumstances which surround you and surround us, call on \nme to express the happiness which we derive from your presence \nand aid in this solemn commemoration. \n\nFortunate, fortunate man ! — with what measure of devotion \nwill you not thank God for the circumstances of your extraordi- \nnary life ! You are connected with both hemispheres and with \ntwo generations. Heaven saw fit to ordain that the electric \nspark of liberty should be conducted, through you, from the \nNew World to the Old ; and we who are now here to perform \nthis duty of patriotism have all of us long ago received it in \ncharge from our fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. \nYou will account it an instance of your good fortune, sir, that \nyou crossed the seas to visit us at a time which enables you to be \npresent at this solemnity.^ You now behold the field the renown \nof which reached you in the heart of France, and caused a thrill \nin your ardent bosom. You see the lines of the little redoubt \nthrown up by the incredible diligence of Prescott, defended to \nthe last extremity by his lion-hearted valor, and within which \nthe corner stone of our monument has now taken its position. \nYou see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner, Mc- \nCleary, Moore, and other early patriots fell with him. Those \nwho survived that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to \nthe present hour, are now around you. \" Some of them you have \nknown in the trying scenes of the war. Behold ! they now \n\n1 Gen. Lafayette made a tour of the United States as the *' nation's \nguest '* in 1824-25. His name stood at the head of the subscriptions for \nthe Bunker Hill Monument ; and he wrote, ** In all my travels through the \ncountry, I have made Bunker . \n\n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 33 \n\nStretch forth their feeble arms to embrace you. Behold ! they \nraise their trembling voices to invoke the blessing of God on you \nand yours forever. \n\nSir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this struc- \nture. You have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commenda- \ntion, the names of departed patriots. Monuments and eulogy \nbelong to the dead.^ We give them this day to Warren and his \nassociates. On other occasions they have been given to your \nmore immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to Greene, \nto Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. We have become reluc- \ntant to grant these, our highest and last honors, fiuther. We \nwould gladly hold them yet back from the little remnant of that \nimmortal band. Serus in cesium redeas.^ Illustrious as are your \nmerits, yet far, oh, very far distant be the day ^ when any inscrip- \ntion shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy ! \n\nThe leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite \nus respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty \nyears since the battle of Bunker Hill was fought. And it pecul- \niarly marks the character of the present age, that, in looking at \nthese changes and in estimating their effect on our condition, we \nare obliged to consider, not what has been done in our own country \nonly, but in others also. In these interesting times, while nations \nare making separate and individual advances in improvement, \nthey make, too, a common progress, like vessels on a common \ntide, propelled by the gales at different rates, according to their \nseveral structure and management, but all moved forward by one \nmighty current, strong enough to bear onward whatever does not \nsink beneath it. \n\n1 ** The thrilling eloquence of the address to the old soldiers of Bunker \nHill, and of the apostrophe to Warren, and the superb reservation of eulogy \nwith which he spoke of and to Gen. Lafayette, were perhaps unequaled, \nsurely never surpassed, by Webster on any other occasion.\" — TiCKNOR: \nLife of Webster, ii. p. 252. \n\n2 ** Late into heaven may you return.\" — Horace, I. ii. 45. \n* Lafayette died May 20, 1834. \n\n3 \n\n\n\n34 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nA chief distinction of the present day is a community of opin- \nions and knowledge amongst men in diflFerent nations, existing in \na degree heretofore unknown. Knowledge has in our time \ntriumphed, and is triumphing, over distance, over difference of \nlanguages, over diversity of habits, over prejudice, and over \nbigotry. The civilized and Christian world is fast learning the \ngreat lesson, that difference of nation does not imply necessary \nhostility, and that all contact need not be war. The whole world \nis becoming a common field for intellect to act in. Energy of \nmind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists, may speak out in \nany tongue, and the uwrld will hear it. A great chord of senti- \nment and feeUng runs through two continents, and vibrates over \nboth. Every breeze wafts intelligence from country to country ; \nevery wave rolls it ; all give it forth, and all in turn receive it. \nThere is a vast commerce of ideas ; there are marts and ex- \nchanges for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellowship \nof those individual intelligences which make up the mind and \nopinion of the age. Mind is the great lever of all things ; hu- \nman thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately- \nanswered ; and the diffusion of knowledge, so astonishing in the \nlast half century, has rendered innumerable minds, variously \ngifted by nature, competent to be competitors or fellow workers \non the theater of intellectual operation. \n\nFrom these causes, important improvements have taken place \nin the personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, \nmankind are not only better fed and better clothed, but they are \nable also to enjoy more leisure ; they possess more refinement \nand more self-respect. A superior tone of education, manners, \nand habits, prevails. This remark, most true in its application to \nour own country, is also partly true when applied elsewhere. It \nis proved by the vastly augmented consumption of those articles \nof manufacture and of commerce which contribute to the com- \nforts and the decencies of life, — an augmentation which has far \noutrun the progress of population. And while the unexampled \nand almost incredible use of mAfllHHMyH|dd'feem to supply the \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 35 \n\nplace of labor, labor still finds its occupation and its reward, so \nwisely has Providence adjusted men*s wants and desires to their \ncondition and their capacity. \n\nAny adequate survey, however, of the progress made during \nthe last half century in the polite and the mechanic arts, in ma- \nchinery and manufactures, in commerce and agriculture, in letters \nand in science, would require volumes. I must abstain wholly \nfrom these subjects, and turn for a moment to the contemplation \nof what has been done on the great question of politics and gov- \nernment. This is the master topic of the age, and during the \nwhole fifty years it has intensely occupied the thoughts of men. \nThe nature of civil government, its ends and uses, have been \ncanvassed and investigated, ancient opinions attacked and de- \nfended, new ideas recommended and resisted, by whatever power \nthe mind of man could bring to the controversy. From the closet \nand the public halls, the debate has been transferred to the field ; \nand the world has been shaken by wars of unexampled magni- \ntude and the greatest variety of fortune. A day of peace has \nat length succeeded ; and, now that the strife has subsided and \nthe smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has actually \nbeen done permanently changing the state and condition of hu- \nman society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, \nit is most apparent, that, from the before-mentioned causes of \naugmented knowledge and improved individual condition, a real, \nsubstantial, and important change has taken place, and is taking \nplace, highly favorable, on the whole, to human liberty and \nhuman happiness. \n\nThe great wheel of political revolution began to move in Ameri- \nca. Here its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred \nto the other continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it \nreceived an irregular and violent impulse ; it whirled along with a \nfearful celerity, till at length, like the chariot wheels in the races \nof antiquity, it took fire from the rapidity of its own motion, and \nbiased onward, spreading conflagration and terror around.^ \n\n1*^ Alluding to the French Revolution (1793) and the Reign of Terror. \n\n\n\n36 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nWe learn from the result of this experiment how fortunate was \nour own condition, and how admirably the character of our \npeople was calculated for setting the great example of popular \ngovernments. The possession of power did not turn the heads \nof the American people, for they had long been in the habit of \nexercising a great degree of self-control. Although the para- \nmount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a large \nfield of legislation had always been open to our colonial assemblies. \nThey were accustomed to representative bodies and the forms of \nfree government ; they understood the doctrine of the division of \npower among different branches, and the necessity of checks on \neach. The character of our countrymen, moreover, was sober, \nmoral, and religious, and there was little in the change to shock \ntheir feelings of justice and humanity, or even to disturb an hon- \nest prejudice. We had no domestic throne to overturn, no privi- \nleged orders to cast down, no violent changes of property to en- \ncounter. In the American Revolution, no man sought or wished \nfor more than to defend and enjoy his own. None hoped for \nplunder or for spoil. Rapacity was unknown to it ; the ax was \nnot among the instruments of its accomplishment ; and we all \nknow that it could not have lived a single day under any well- \nfounded imputation of possessing a tendency adverse to the \nChristian religion. \n\nIt need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspi- \ncious, political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, \nhave terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, \nit is the master work of the world, to establish governments en- \ntirely popular on lasting foundations ; nor is it easy, indeed, to \nintroduce the popular principle at all into governments to which \nit has been altogether a stranger. It cannot be doubted, how- \never, that Europe has come out of the contest, in which she has \nbeen so long engaged, with greatly superior knowledge, and, in \nmany respects, in a highly improved condition. Whatever bene- \nfit has been acquired is likely to be retained, for it consists mainly \nin the acquisition of more enlightened ideas. And although king- \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 37 \n\ndoms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold \nthem, in the same manner they were obtained ; although ordi- \nnary and vulgar power may, in human affairs, be lost as it has \nbeen won ; yet it is the glorious prerogative of the empire of \nknowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On the contrary, \nit increases by the multiple of its own power ; all its ends become \nmeans ; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. Its whole \nabundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing has \nlimited, and nothing can limit, the amount of ultimate product. \n\nUnder the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the \npeople have begun, in all forms of government, to think and to \nreason on affairs of state. Regarding government as an institu- \ntion for the public good, they demand a knowledge of its opera- \ntions and a participation in its exercise. A call for the repre- \nsentative system wherever it is not enjoyed, and where there is \nakeady intelligence enough to estimate its value, is perse veringly \nmade. Where men may speak out, they demand it ; where the \nbayonet is at their throats, they pray for it. \n\nWhen ^Louis XIV.^ said, \" I am the state,\" he expressed \nthe essence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules \nof that system, the people are disconnected from the state: \nthey are its subjects ; it is their lord. These ideas, founded in \nthe love of power, and long supported by the excess and the \nabuse of it, are yielding, in our age, to other opinions ; and the \ncivilized world seems at last to be proceeding to the conviction \nof that fundamental and manifest truth, that the powers of gov- \nernment are but a trust, and that they cannot be lawfully exer- \ncised but for the good of the community. As knowledge is \nmore and more extended, this conviction becomes more and \nmore general. Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the fir- \nmament. Life and power are scattered with all its beams. The \nprayer of the Grecian champion when enveloped in unnatural \nclouds and darkness is the appropriate political supplication for \nthe people of every country not yet blessed with free institutions : \n\n1 Louis XIV., King of France, 1643-17 15. \n\n\n\n38 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\n** Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, \nGive me to see, — and Ajax asks no more.\" i \n\nWe may hope that the growing influence of enlightened senti- \nment will promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars to \nmaintain family alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, \nand to regulate successions to thrones, which have occupied so \nmuch room in the history of modem times, if not less likely to \nhappen at all, will be less likely to become general and involve \nmany nations, as the great principle shall be more and more \nestablished, that the interest of the world is peace, and its first \ngreat statute, that every nation possesses the power of establish- \ning a government for itself. But public opinion has attained, \nalso, an influence over governments which do not admit the popu- \nlar principle into their organization. A necessary respect for the \njudgment of the world operates, in some measure, as a control \nover the most unlimited forms of authority. It is owing, per- \nhaps, to this truth, that the interesting struggle of the Greeks ^ \nhas been suffered to go on so long without a direct interference, \neither to wrest that country from its present masters, or to execute \nthe system of pacification by force, and with united strength lay \nthe neck of Christian and civilized Greek at the foot of the bar- \nbarian Turk. Let us thank God that we live in an age when \nsomething has influence besides the bayonet, and when the stern- \nest authority does not venture to encounter the scorching power \nof public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have mentioned \nshould be met by one universal burst of indignation ; the air of \nthe civilized world ought to be made too warm to be comfortably \nbreathed by any one who would hazard it. \n\nIt is, indeed, a touching reflection, that while, in the fullness of \nour country*s happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we \n\n1 Iliad, XVII. 729, Pope^s translation. \n\n2 The Greek Revolution, against Turkish oppression and for the freedom \nof Greece, was then in progress. It had hegun in 1820, and was terminated, \nwith the success of the patriots, in 1829. \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUM^T. 39 \n\nlook for instruction in our undertaking to a country which is now \nin fearful contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but \nfor her own existence. Let her be assured that she is not for- \ngotten in the world, that her efforts are applauded, and that \nconstant prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a \nconfident hope for her final triumph. If the true spark of reli- \ngious and civil liberty be kindled, it will bum. Human agency \ncannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central fire, it may be \nsmothered for a time ; the ocean may overwhelm it ; mountains \nmay press it down ; but its inherent and imconquerable force will \nheave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in \nsome place or other, the volcano will break out, and flame up to \nheaven. \n\nAmong the great events of the half centiuy we must reckon, \ncertainly, the revolution of South America ; ^ and we are not \nlikely to overrate the importance of that revolution, either to the \npeople of the country itself or to the rest of the world. The late \nSpanish colonies, now independent states, under circumstances \nless favorable, doubtless, than attended our own Revolution, have \nyet successfully commenced their national existence. They have \naccomplished the great object of establishing their independence ; \nthey are known and acknowledged in the world : and although in \nregard to their systems of government, their sentiments on reli- \ngious toleration, and their provisions for public instruction, they \nmay have yet much to learn, it must be admitted that they have \nrisen to the condition of settled and established states more rap- \nidly than could have been reasonably anticipated. They already \nfurnish an exhilarating example of the difference between free \ngovernments and despotic misrule. Their commerce, at this \nmoment, creates a new activity in all the great marts of the \nworld. They show themselves able, by an exchange of com- \nmodities, to bear a useful part in the intercourse of nations. \n\n1 The revolution of the South American colonies was at that time an event \nof but recent occurrence. It began in 18 10, and ended in 1824, when Bolivia, \nthe last of the Spanish colonies, was acknowledged independent. \n\n\n\n40 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nA new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail ; all \ntlie great interests of society receive a salutary impulse ; and the \nprogress of information not only testifies to an improved condi- \ntion, but itself constitutes the highest and most essential improve- \nment. \n\nWhen the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of \nSouth America was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The \nthirteen little Colonies of North America habitually called them- \nselves the \" Continent.\" Borne down by colonial subjugation, \nmonopoly, and bigotry, these vast regions of the South were \nhardly visible above the horizon. But in our day there has \nbeen, as it were, a new creation. The southern hemisphere \nemerges from the sea. Its lofty mountains begin to lift them- \nselves into the light of heaven ; its broad and fertile plains stretch \nout in beauty to the eye of civilized man ; and at the mighty \nbidding of the voice of political liberty the waters of darkness \nretire. \n\nAnd now let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction \nof the benefit which the example of our country has produced, \nand is likely to produce, on human freedom and human happi- \nness. Let us endeavor to comprehend in all its magnitude, and \nto feel in all its importance, the part assigned to us in the great \ndrama of human affairs. We are placed at the head of the sys- \ntem of representative and popular governments. Thus far our \nexample shows that such governments are compatible, not only \nwith respectability and power, but with repose, with peace, with \nseciuity of personal rights, with good laws, and a just adminis- \ntration. \n\nWe are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are pre- \nferred, either as being thought better in themselves, or as better \nsuited to existing condition, we leave the preference to be en- \njoyed. Oiu* history hitherto proves, however, that the popular \nform is practicable, and that with wisdom and knowledge men \nmay govern themselves; and the duty incumbent on us is to \n\n\n\nTHE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, \\\\ \n\npreserve the consistency of this cheering example, and take care \nthat nothing may weaken its authority with the world. If, in \nour case, the representative system ultimately fail, popular gov- \nernments must be pronounced impossible. No combination of \ncircumstances more favorable to the experiment can ever be \nexpected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, therefore, rest \nwith us ; and if it should be proclaimed that our example had \nbecome an argument against the experiment, the knell of popular \nliberty would be sounded throughout the earth. \n\nThese are excitements to duty, but they are not suggestions \nof doubt. Our history and oiu\" condition, all that is gone before \nus, and all that surrounds us, authorize the belief that populeir \ngovernments, though subject to occasional variations, in form \nperhaps not always for the better, may yet, in their general \ncharacter, be as durable and permanent as other systems. We \nknow, indeed, that in our country any other is impossible. The \nprinciple of free governments adheres to the American soil. It \nis bedded in it, immovable as its mountains. \n\nAnd let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this \ngeneration and on us sink deep into our hearts. Those who \nestablished our liberty and our government are daily dropping \nfrom among us. The great trust now descends to new hands. \nLet us apply ourselves to that which is presented to us as our \nappropriate object. We can win no laurels in a war for inde- \npendence. Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. \nNor are there places for us by the side of Solon ^ and Alfred 2 \nand other founders of states. Our fathers have filled them. \nBut there remains to us a great duty of defense and preserva- \ntion ; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit to which \nthe spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper business \n\n1 Solon, the most famous of the lawgivers of ancient Greece (born about \n638 B.C.), established a new code of laws for Athens. \n\n2 King Alfred the Great, of England (849-901), reduced the Anglo-Saxon \nlaws to a system, and made great improvements in the administration of jus- \ntice. He is sometimes regarded as the founder of the English monarchy. \n\n\n\nk \n\n\n\n42 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nis improvement.* Let our age be the age of improve \na day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace and \nof peace. Let us develop the resources of our land, c \npowers, build up its institutions, promote all its grea \nand see whether we also, in our day and generation, m \nform something worthy to be remembered. Let us \ntrue spirit of union and harmony. In pursuing the gi \nwhich our condition points out to us, let us act und \nconviction and an habitual feeling, that these twenty- \nare one country. Let our conceptions be enlarged t( \nof our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the wl \nvast field in which we are called to act. Let our obje \n\nCOUNTRY, OUR WHOLE COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT \n\nTRY. And, by the blessing of God, may that coi \n^ become a vast and splendid monument, not of oppr \nterror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, u \nthe world may gaze with admiration forever ! \n\n\n\nTHE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER \n\nHILL MONUMENT. \n\nAN ADDRESS DELIVERED ON BUNKER HILL, ON THE 17TH OF \nJUNE, 1843, ON THE OCCASION OF THE COMPLETION \n\nOF THE MONUMENT. \n\n\n\nA DUTY has been performed. A work of gratitude and patri- \notism is completed. This structure, having its foundations \nin soil which drank deep of early Revolutionary blood, has at \nlength reached its destined height, and now lifts its summit to the \nskies. \n\nWe have assembled to celebrate the accomplishment of this \nundertaking, and to indulge afresh in the recollection of the great \nevent which it is designed to commemorate. Eighteen years, \nmore than half the ordinary duration of a generation of man- \nkind, have elapsed since the comer stone of this monument was \nlaid. The hopes of its projectors rested on voluntary contribu- \ntions, private munificence, and the general favor of the public. \nThese hopes have not been disappointed. Donations have been \nmade by indiyidualSi^in some cases^ofjarge-amount4 .and smfifcUer \nsumsJiav€-been-Contributed by thousands. All who regard the \nobject itself as important, and its accomplishment, therefore, as \na good attained, will entertain sincere respect and gratitude for \nthe unwearied efforts of the successive presidents, boards of \ndirectors, and committees of the Association which has had the \ngeneral control of the work. The architect^^egually ^niitledjo \n\n43 \n\n\n\n44 DAXIEL WEBSTER, \n\nour thanks and commendation, will find other reward, alsfvior \nhis labor and skill, in the^Feaiity and elegance of the obelisk \nitself, and the distinction which, as a work of art, it confecLHgon \nhim. \n\nAt a period when the prospects of further progress in the \nundertaking were gloomy and discouraging, the Mechanic Asso- \nciation, by a most praiseworthy and vigorous effort, raised new \nfunds for carrying it forward, and saw them applied with fidelity, \neconomy, and skill. It is a grateful duty to make public acknowl- \nedgments of such timely and efficient aid. \n\nThe last effort and the last contribution were from a different \nsource. Garlands of grace and elegance were destined to crown \na work which had its commencement in manly patriotism. The \nwinning power of the sex addressed itself to the public, and all \nthat was needed to carry the monument to its proposed height, \nand to give to it its finish, was promptly suppHed. The mothers \nand the daughters of the land contributed thus, most successfully, \nto whatever there is of beauty in the monument itself, or what- \never of utility and public benefit and gratification there is in its \ncompletion. \n\nOf those with whom the plan originated, of erecting on this \nspot a monument worthy of the event to be commemorated, \nmany are now present ; but others, alas ! have themselves be- \ncome subjects of monumental inscription. William Tudor — an \naccomplished scholar, a distinguished writer, a most amiable \nman, aUied both by birth and sentiment to the patriots of the \nRevolution — died while on public service abroad, and now lies \nburied in a foreign land.^ William Sullivan — a name fragrant of \nRevolutionary merit and of public service and public virtue, who \nhimself partook in a high degree of the respect and confidence \nof the community, and yet was always most loved where best \nknown — has also been gathered to his fathers. And last, George \nBlake — a lawyer of learning and eloquence, a man of wit and of \n\n1 William Tudor died at Rio de Janeiro, while Chargi d^ Affaires of the \nUnited States, in 1830. See Introduction. \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 45 \n\ntalent, of social qualities the most agreeable and fascinating, and \nof gifts which enabled him to exercise large sway over public \nassemblies — has closed his human career.^ I know that in the \ncrowds before me there are those from whose eyes tears will \nflow^ at the mention of these names. But such mention is due \nto their general character, their public and private virtues, and \nespecially, on this occasion, to the spirit and zeal with which \nthey entered into the undertaking which is now completed. \n\nI have spoken only of those who are no longer numbered with \nthe living. But a long life, now drawing towards its close, al- \nways distinguished by acts of public spirit, humanity, and charity, \nforming a character which has already become historical, and \nsanctified by public regard and the affection of friends, may \nconfer even on the living the proper immunity of the dead, and \nbe the fit subject of honorable mention and warm commendation. \nOf the early projectors of the design of this monument, one of \nthe most prominent, the most zealous, and the most efficient, is \nThomas H. Perkins.^ It was beneath his ever hospitable roof \nthat those whom I have mentioned, and others yet living and \nnow present, having assembled for the purpose, adopted the first \nstep towards erecting a monument on Bunker Hill. Long may \nhe remain, with unimpaired faculties, in the wide field of his \nusefulness ! His charities have distilled like the dews of heaven ; \nhe has fed the hungry, and clothed the naked ; he has given \nsight to the blind: and for such virtues there is a reward on \nhigh of which all human memorials, all language of brass and \nstone, are but humble types and attempted imitations. \n\nTime and nature have had their course in diminishing the \nnumber of those whom we met here on the 17th of June, 1825. \nMost of the Revolutionary characters then present have since \n\n1 William Sullivan died in Boston in 1839, George Blake, in 1841 ; both \ngentlemen of great political and legal eminence. \n\n2 Thomas Handasyd Perkins, a distinguished merchant and philanthropist \nof Boston, founder of the Perkins Institution and Massachusetts School for \nthe Blind. He died Jan.. 11, 1854. \n\n\n\n46 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\ndeceased ; and Lafayette sleeps in his native land. Yet the name \nand blood of Warren are with us ; the kindred of Putnam are \nalso here ; and near me, universally beloved for his character \nand his virtues, and now venerable for his years, sits the son \nof the noble-hearted and daring Prescott.i Gideon Foster of \nDan vers, Enos Reynolds of Boxford, Phineas Johnson, Robert \nAndrews, Elijah Dresser, Josiah Cleaveland, Jesse Smith, Philip \nBagley, Needham Maynard, Roger Plaisted, Joseph Stephens, \nNehemiah Porter, and James Harvey, who bore arms for their \ncountry, either at Concord and Lexington on the 19th of April, \nor on Bunker Hill, all now far advanced in age, have come here \nto-day to look once more on the field where their valor was \nproved, and to receive a hearty outpouring of our respect. \n\nThey have long outlived the troubles and dangers of the Revo- \nlution ; they have outlived the evils arising from the want of a \nunited and efficient government ; they have outlived the menace \nof imminent dangers to the public liberty ; they have outlived \nnearly all their contemporaries : but they have not outlived, they \ncannot outlive, the affectionate gratitude of their country. Heav- \nen has not allotted to this generation an opportunity of rendering \nhigh services, and manifesting strong personal devotion, such as \nthey rendered and manifested, and in such a cause as that which \nroused the patriotic fires of their youthful breasts, and nerved the \nstrength of their arms. But we may praise what we cannot equal, \nand celebrate actions which we were not bom to perform. Pul- \nchrum est benefacere reipubliccb^ etiam benedicere haud absurdum est. \n\nThe Bunker Hill Monument is finished. Here it stands. For- \ntunate in the high natural eminence on which it is placed, higher, \ninfinitely higher, in its objects and purpose, it rises over the land \nand over the sea ; and, visible at their homes to three hundred \nthousand of the people of Massachusetts, it stands a memorial \nof the last, and a monitor to the present, and to all succeeding \n\n1 \" William Prescott (since deceased, in 1844), son of Col. William Pres- \ncott, who commanded on the 17th of JunCf Xjg^^|^^lltlier of William H. \nPrescott, the historian.\" — Everett. \n\n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS, \n\n\n\n47 \n\n\n\ngenerations. I have spoken of the loftiness of its purpose. If \niX had been without any other design than the creation of a work \nof art, the granite of which it is composed would have slept in \nits native bed. It has a purpose, and that purpose gives it its \nchaiacter. That purpose enrobes it with dignity and moral \ngrandeur. That well-known purpose it is which causes us to \nlook up to it with a feeling of awe. It is itself the orator of this \noccasion. It is not from my lips, it could not be from any hu- \nman lips, that that strain of eloquence is this day to flow most \nc^Qpetent -tCmove a.nd -Cxcite the vast multitudes around me. \nThe powSfftri speaker stands motionless before us.^ It is a plain \nsfeaffT^ ^ ^~ \n\n\n\nihscriplions^fronting to the rising sun, from \nwhich the futjireantiquary shall wipe the diist. Nor does the \nrising'^n cause tones of music to issue from its summit. But \n^-t the rising of the sun and at the setting of the sun, in the \nWaze of noonday, and beneath the milder effulgence of lunar \n^ight, it loo ks, it speaks, i t_a cts, to_ the^ullj:omprehension of \n^very^AfliericaiLnund^ and the awakening of glowing enthusiasm \n^y jV CTy Ame rjcftp hearL Its silent but awful iitteranceTTts \n^cep pathos as it brings to our confemplation the 17 th of June, \n^775, and the consequences which have resulted to us, to our \ncountry, and to the world, from the events of that day, and which \nwe know must continue to rain influence on the destinies of man- \nkind, to the end of time ; the elevation with which it raises us high \nabove the ordinary feehngs of life, — surpass all that the study of \nthe closet, or even the inspiration of genius, can produce. To-day \nIt spealfR tnjisr its future au ditori es will be the successive gen- \nerationsofmen as_they_iise up beTore it and father around \"it. \nIt s speech wil Tbeof patriotiam and cQU£ag£._pf civil and religious \nliberty, of free government, of th e mor al improvement ahd eleva- \ntion of mankindTanToTiiie jmmortal memory of those who, with \nhero^^votion, have sacrificed tTieir lives for their country. \n\n\n\n1 It is related that at this point in his speech the orator was interrupted by \nB spontaneous burst of applause from his hearers, and that such was their \nenthusiasm, that it was several moments before Vve co\\\\Vd. ^toq^^^. \n\n\n\n4^ DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nIn the older world, numerous fabrics still exist, reared by hu- \nman hands, but whose object has been lost in the darkness of \nages. They are now monuments of nothing but the labor and \nskill which constructed them. \n\nThe mighty Pyramid itself, half buried in the sands of Africa, has \nnothing to bring down and report to us but the power of kings \nand the servitude of the people. If it had any purpose beyond \nthat of a mausoleum, such purpose has perished from history and \nfrom tradition. If asked for its moral object, its admonition, its \nsentiment, its instruction to mankind, or any high end in its erec- \ntion, it is silent, — silent as the millions which lie in tfie dust at its \nbase, and in the catacombs which surround it. Without a just \nmoral object, therefore, made known to man, though raised \nagainst the skies, it excites only conviction of power mixed with \nstrange wonder. But if the civilization of the present race of \nmen — founded as it is in soHd science, the true knowledge of \nnature, and vast discoveries in art, and which is elevated and \npurified by moral sentiment and by the truths of Christianity — be \nnot destined to destruction before the final termination of human \nexistence on earth, the object and purpose of this edifice will be \nknown till that hour shall come. And even if civilization should \nbe subverted, and the truths of the Christian reHgion obscured \nby a new deluge of barbarism, the memory of Bunker Hill and \nthe American Revolution will still be elements and parts of the \nknowledge which shall be possessed by the last man to whom \nthe light of civilization and Christianity shall be extended. \n\nThis celebration is honored by the presence of the chief execu- \ntive magistrate of the Union. An occasion so national in its \nobject and character, and so much connected with that Revolu- \ntion from which the government sprang at the head of which he \nis placed, may well receive from him this mark of attention and \nrespect. Well acquainted with Yorktown,i the scene of the last \n\n1 President Tyler was a native of Virginia, and his birthplace was within \nless than forty miles of Yorktown. The surrender of the British army under \nCornwaWh, at Yorktown, occurred Oct. I9f I7^I» \n\n\n\n^ SECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS, 4g \n\njjrj.? great military struggle of the Revolution, hLs eye now surveys \n^ the field of Bunker Hill, the theater of the first of those impor- \n\nac;l tant conflicts. He sees where Warren fell, where Putnam and \nPrescott and Stark and Knowlton and Brooks fought. H^ \nbeholds the spot where a thousand trained soldiers of Englanc \nwere smitten to the earth, in the first effort of revolutionary war \nby the arm of a bold and determined yeomanry contending foi \nliberty and their country. And while all assembled here enter \nJ^5 tain towards him sincere personal good wishes and the high re \n\nspect due to his elevated office and station, it is not to be doubted \nthat he enters with true American feeling into the patriotic en \nthusiasm kindled by the occasion which animates the multitude! \nthat surround him. \n\nHis Excellency the Governor of the Commonwealth, the Gov \nemor of Rhode Island, and the. other distinguished public mer \nwhom we have the honor to receive as visitors and guests to-day \nwill cordially unite in a celebration connected with the great even' \nof the Revolutionary War. \n\nNo name in the history of 1775 and 1 776 is more distinguished \nthan that borne by an ex-president of the United States,^ whon \n* we expected to see here, but whose ill health prevents his attend- \nance. Whenever popular rights were to be asserted, an Adam; \nwas present ; and when the time came for the formal Declaratior \nof Independence, it was the voice of an Adams that shook th< \nhalls of Congress. We wish we could have welcomed to us thii \nday the inheritor of Revolutionary blood, and the just and worth) \nrepresentative of high Revolutionary names, merit, and services \n\nBanners and badges, processions and flags, announce to u! \nthat amidst this uncounted throng are thousands of natives 01 \nNew England now residents in other States. Welcome, ye kin \nclred names, with kindred blood ! From the broad savannas ' \nof the South, from the newer regions of the West, from amids \n\n\n\n7 \n\n\n\n1 John Quincy Adams (i 767-1848), the sixth President of the United State: \n(182S-29). \n\n2 Plains, or meadows. \n\n4 \n\n\n\n5© DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nthe hundreds of thousands of men of Eastern origin who culti- \nvate the rich valley of the Genesee, or live along the chain of \nthe Lakes, from the mountains of Pennsylvania, and from the \nthronged cities of the coast, welcome, welcome ! Wherever else \nyou may be strangers, here you are all at home. You assemble \nat this shrine of liberty, near the family altars at which your ear- \nliest devotions were paid to Heaven, near to the temples of \nworship first entered by you, and near to the schools and colleges \nin which your education was received. You come hither with a \nglorious ancestry of Hberty. You bring names which are on the \nrolls of Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill. You come, some \nof you, once more to be embraced by an aged Revolutionary \nfather, or to receive another, perhaps a last, blessing, bestowed in \nlove and tears, by a mother, yet surviving to witness and to \nenjoy your prosperity and happiness. \n\nBut if family associations and the recollections of the past \nbring you hither with greater alacrity, and mingl% with your \ngreeting much of local attachment and private affection, greeting \nalso be given, free and hearty greeting, to every American citizen \nwho treads this sacred soil with patriotic feeling, and respires with \npleasure in an atmosphere perfumed with the recollections of * \n1775 ! This occasion is respectable,^ nay, it is grand, it is sub- \nlime, by the nationality of its sentiment. Among the seventeen \nmillions of happy people who form the American community, \nthere is not one who has not an interest in this monument, as \nthere is not one that has not a deep and abiding interest in that \nwhich it commemorates. \n\nWoe betide the man who brings to this day's worship feeling \nless than wholly American ! Woe betide the man who can stand \nhere with the fires of local resentments burning, or the purpose \nof fomenting local jealousies and the strifes of local interests fes- \ntering and rankling in his heart ! Union, established in justice, \nin patriotism, and the most plain and obvious common interest ; \n\n1 This is a favorite word with 1}m|g||klBiyM( of ten gives to it an unusual \nsignificance. \n\n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 51 \n\nunion, founded on the same love of liberty, cemented by blood \nshed in the same common cause, — union has been the source of \nall our glory and greatness thus far, and is the ground of all our \nhighest hopes. This column stands on union. I know not that \nit might not keep its position if the American Union, in the mad \nconflict of human passions, and in the strife of parties and fac- \ntions, should be broken up and destroyed. I know not that it \nwould totter and fall to the earth, and mingle its fragments with \nthe fragments of Liberty and the Constitution, when State should \nbe separated from State, and faction and dismemberment obliter- \nate forever all the hopes of the founders of our Republic and the \ngreat inheritance of their children. It might stand. But who, \nfrom beneath the weight of mortification and shame that would \noppress him, could look up to behold it ? Whose eyeballs would \nliot be seared by such a spectacle ? For my part, should I live \nto such a time, I shall avert my eyes from it forever. \n\nIt is not as a mere military encounter of hostile armies that \nthe battle of Bunker Hill presents its principal claim to attention. \nYet, even as a mere battle, there were circumstances attending \nit extraordinary in character, and entitling it to peculiar distinc- \ntion. It was fought on this eminence, in the neighborhood of \nyonder city, in the presence of many more spectators than there \nwere combatants in the conflict. Men, women, and children, \nfrom every commanding position, were gazing at the battle, and \nlooking for its, results with all the eagerness natural to those who \nknew that the issue was fraught with the deepest consequences \nto themselves personally, as well as to their country. Yet on the \n1 6th of June, 1775, there was nothing around this hill but ver- \ndure and culture. There was, indeed, the note of awful prepara- \ntion in Boston. There was the Provincial army at Cambridge, \nwith its right flank resting on Dorchester, and its left on Chelsea. \nBut here all was peace. Tranquillity reigned around. On the \n1 7th, everything was changed. On this eminence had arisen, in \nthe night, a redoubt, built by Prescott, and in which he held \ncommand. Perceived by the enemy at dawrv, \\l \\n^& vcwaNfe^-s^sJc^ \n\n\n\n52 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\ncannonaded from the floating batteries in the river, and from the \nopposite shore. And then ensued the hurried movement in Bos- \nton, and soon the troops of Britain embarked in the attempt to \ndislodge the colonists. In an hour everything indicated an im- \nmediate and bloody conflict. Love of liberty on one side, proud \ndefiance of rebellion on the other, hopes and fears, and coxu*age \nand daring, on both sides, animated the hearts of the combatants \nas they hung on the edge of battle. \n\nI suppose it would be diflftcult, in a military point of view, to \nascribe to the leaders on either side any just motive for the en- \ngagement which followed. On the one hand, it could not have \nbeen very important t6 the Americans to attempt to hem the \nBritish within the town, by advancing one single post a quarter \nof a mile ; while, on the other hand, if the British found it essen- \ntial to dislodge the American troops, they had it in their power \nat no expense of life. By moving up their ships and batteries, \nthey could have completely cut off all communication with the \nmainland over the Neck, and the forces in the redoubt woiild \nhave been reduced to a state of famine in forty-eight hours. \n\nBut that was not the day for any such consideration on either \nside. Both parties were anxious to try the strength of their \narms. The pride of England would not permit the \" rebels,\" as \nshe termed them, to defy her to the teeth ; and, without for a \nmoment calculating the cost, the British general determined to \ndestroy the fort immediately. On the other side, Prescott and \nhis gallant followers longed and thirsted for a decisive trial of \nstrength and of courage. They wished a battle, and wished it \nat once. And this is the true secret of the movements on this hill. \n\nI will not attempt to describe that battle. The cannonading, \nthe landing of the British, their advance, the coolness with \nwhich the charge was met, the repulse, the second attack, the \nsecond repulse, the burning of Charlestown, and finally the \nclosing assault and the slow retreat of the Americans, — the his- \ntory of all these is familiar. \n\nBut the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill were greater \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 53 \n\nthan those of any ordinary conflict, ahhough between armies of \nfar greater force, and terminating with more immediate advan- \ntage on the one side or the other. It was the first great battle \nof the Revolution, and not only the first blow, but the blow \nwhich determined the contest. It did not, indeed, put an end \nto the war ; but, in the then existing hostile state of feeling, the \ndifficulties could only be referred to the arbitration of the sword. \nAnd one thing is certain, — that, after the New-England troops \nhad shown themselves able to face and repulse tlie regulars, it \nwas decided that peace never could be established but upon the \nbasis of the independence of the Colonies. When the sun of \nthat day went down, the event of independence was no longer \ndoubtful. In a few days Washington heard of the battle, and \nhe inquired if the militia had stood the fire of the regulars. When \ntold that they had not only stood that fire, but reserved their \nown till the enemy was within eight rods, and then poured it in \nwith tremendous effect, \" Then,\" exclaimed he, \" the liberties of \nthe country are safe ! \" \n\nThe consequences of this battle were just of the same impor- \ntance as the Revolution itself. \n\nIf there was nothing of value in the principles of the American \nRevolution, then there is nothing valuable in the battle of Bunker \nHill and its consequences. But if the Revolution was an era in \nthe history of man favorable to human happiness, if it was an \nevent which marked the progress of man all over the world from \ndespotism to liberty, then this monument is not raised without \ncause. Then the battle of Bunker Hill is not an event unde- \nserving celebrations, commemorations, and rejoicings, now and \nin all coming times. \n\nWhat, then, is the true and peculiar principle of the American \nRevolution, and of the systems of government which it has con- \nfirmed and established ? The truth is, that the American Revo- \nlution was not caused by the instantaneous discovery of principles \nof government before unheard of, or the practical adoption of \npolitical ideas such as had never before entered into the raicLds \n\n\n\n54 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nof men. It was but the full development of principles of gov- \nernment, forms of society, and political sentiments, the origin of \nall which lay back two centuries in English and American history. \nThe discovery of America, its colonization by the nations of \nEurope, the history and progress of the Colonies, from their \nestablishment to the time when the principal of them threw off \ntheir allegiance to the respective states by which they had been \nplanted, and founded governments of their own, constitute one \nof the most interesting portions of the annals of man. These \nevents occupied three hundred years, during which period civil- \nization and knowledge made steady progress in the Old World ; \nso that Europe, at the commencement of the nineteenth century, \nhad become greatly changed from that Europe which began the \ncolonization of America at the close of the fifteenth or the com- \nmencement of the sixteenth. And what is most material to my \npresent purpose is, that in the progress of the first of these cen- \nturies, that is to say,, from the discovery of America to the settle- \nments of Virginia and Massachusetts, political and religious \nevents took place which most materially affected the state of \nsociety and the sentiments of mankind, especially in England \nand in parts of Continental Europe. After a few feeble and \nunsuccessful efforts by England, under Henry VII.,i to plant \ncolonies in America, no designs of that kind were prosecuted for \na long period, either by the English Government or any of its \nsubjects. Without inquiring into the causes of this delay, its \nconsequences are sufficiently clear and striking. England, in \nthis lapse of a century, unknown to herself, but under the provi- \ndence of God and the influence of events, was fitting herself for \nthe work of colonizing North America, on such principles, and \nby such men, as should spread the English name and English \nblood, in time, over a great portion of the Western hemisphere. \n\n^ It was daring the reign of Henry VII. that John Cabot, under a royal \ncommission, discovered the coast of North America, — a discovery upon which \nthe subsequent daims of tlie Ki>g>«*K to jurisdiction on this continent were \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS, 55 \n\nThe commercial spirit was greatly fostered by several laws \npassed in the reign of Henry VII. ; and in the same reign en- \ncouragement was given to arts and manufactures in the eastern \ncounties, and some not unimportant modifications of the feudal \nsystem took place by allowing the breaking of entails.^ These \nand other measures, and other occurrences, were making way for \na new class of society to emerge and show itself in a mihtary \nand feudal age ; a middle class, between the barons or great \nlandholders and the retainers of the Crown on the one side, and \nthe tenants of the Crown and barons, and agricultural and other \nlaborers, on the other side. With the rise and growth of this \nnew class of society, not only did commerce and the arts in- \ncrease, but better education, a greater degree of knowledge, \njuster notions of the true ends of government, and sentiments \nfavorable to civil liberty, began to spread abroad, and become \nmore and more common. But the plants springing from these \nseeds were of slow growth. The character of English society \nhad indeed begun to undergo a change ; but changes of national \ncharacter are ordinarily the work of time. Operative causes \nwere, however, evidently in existence, and sure to produce, \nultimately, their proper effect. From the accession of Henry \nVII. to the breaking out of the civil wars,^ England enjoyed \nmuch greater exemption from war, foreign and domestic, than \nfor a long period before, and during the controversy between the \nhouses of York and Lancaster.^ These years of peace were fa- \nvorable to commerce and the arts. Commerce and the arts aug- \nmented general and individual knowledge ; and knowledge is the \nonly foimtain, both of the love and the principles of human liberty. \n\n1 Laws forbidding the owner of an estate to transfer it to any person ex- \ncept the legal heir. \n\n^ That is, from 1485 to about 1640. \n\n' This conflict between the two great families of England, each claiming \nthe right to the royal succession, is known in history as the War of the \nRoses. It began in 1455, and continued until the death of Richard III. in \n14SS. \n\n\n\n56 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nOther powerful causes soon came into active play. The Ref- \normation of Luther ^ broke out, kindling up the minds of men \nafresh, leading to new habits of thought, and awakening in indi- \nviduals energies before unknown even to themselves. The reli- \ngious controversies of this period changed society as well as re- \nligion : indeed, it would be easy to prove, if this occasion were \nproper for it, that they changed society to a considerable extent, \nwhere they did not change the religion of the state. They \nchanged man himself, in his modes of thought, his^ consciousness \nof his own powers, and his desire of intellectual attainment. The \nspirit of commercial and foreign adventure, therefore, on the one \nhand, which had gained so much strength and influence since the \ntime of the discovery of America ; and, on the other, the assertion \nand maintenance of religious liberty, having their soiurce indeed \nin the Reformation, but continued, diversified, and constantly \nstrengthened by the subsequent divisions of sentiment and opin- \nion among the Reformers themselves ; and this love of religious \nliberty, drawing after it, or bringing along with it, as it always \ndoes, an ardent devotion to the principle of civil liberty also, — \nwere the powerful influences under which character was formed, \nand men trained, for the great work of introducing English civil- \nization, English law, and, what is more than all, Anglo-Saxon \nblood, into the wilderness of North America. Raleigh 2 and his \ncompanions may be considered as the creatiures, principally, of \nthe first of these causes. High-spirited, full of the love of per- \nsonal adventure, excited, too, in some degree, by the hopes of \nsudden riches from the discovery of mines of the precious metals, \nand not unwilling to diversify the labors of settling a colony with \noccasional cruising against the Spaniards in the West Indian seas, \n\n1 This great religious and political movement, which engaged the attention \nof a large portion of Europe during the sixteenth century, is so called from \nMartin Luther, its most distinguished promoter. The Reformation was \nbegun in Switzerland by Zwingli in 1516; in Germany, by Luther in 15 17; \nand in England, by Henry VIII. in 1534. \n2 Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618). \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 57 \n\ntliey crossed and recrossed the ocean with a frequency which \n\nsiirprises us when we consider the state of navigation, and which \n\nevinces a most daring spirit. \n\nThe other cause peopled New England. The \" Mayflower \" \n\nsought our shores under no high- wrought spirit of commercial \nadventure, no love of gold, no mixture of purpose warlike or \nhostile to any human being. Like the dove from the ark, she \nhad put forth only to find rest. Solemn supplications on the \nshore of the sea in Holland had invoked for her, at her depar- \nture, the blessings of Providence. The stars which guided her \nwere the unobscured constellations of civil and religious liberty. \nHer deck was the altar of the living God. Fervent prayers on \nbended knees mingled, morning and evening, with the voices \nof ocean and the sighing of the wind in her shrouds. Every \nprosperous breeze which, gently swelling her sails, helped the \nPilgrims onward in their course, awoke new anthems of praise ; \nand when the elements were wrought into fury, neither the tem- \npest, tossing their fragile bark like a feather, nor the darkness and \nhowhng of the midnight storm, ever disturbed in man or woman \nthe firm and settled purpose of their souls, to undergo all and to do \nall that the meekest patience, the boldest resolution, and the highest \ntrust ifi God, could enable human beings to suffer or to perform. \nSome differences may, doubtless, be traced at this day between \nthe descendants of the early colonists of Virginia and those of \nNew England, owing to the different influences and different cir- \ncumstances under which the respective settlements were made, \nbut only enough to create a pleasing variety in the midst of a \ngeneral family resemblance. \n\n\" Facias non omnibus una, \nNee diversa tamen ; qualis decet sororum.\" 1 \n\nBut the habits, sentiments, and objects of both soon became \nmodified by local causes, growing out of their condition in the \n\n^ \" The features are not the same in all, nor yet very diflferent : they are \nsuch as those of sisters ought to be.\" — Ovitj. \n\n\n\ni \n\n\n\n5^ DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nNew World ; and as this condition was essentially alike in both, \nand as both at once adopted the same general rules and prin- \nciples of English jurisprudence, and became accustomed to the \nauthority of representative bodies, these differences gradually \ndiminished. They disappeared by the progress of time and the \ninfluence of intercourse. The necessity of some degree of union \nand cooperation to defend themselves against the savage tribes, \ntended to excite in them mutual respect and regard. They \nfought together in the wars against France.^ The great and \ncommon cause of the Revolution bound them to one another by \nnew links of brotherhood ; and at length the present constitution \nof government united them, happily and gloriously, to form the \ngreat republic of the world, and bound up their interests and for- \ntunes, till the whole earth sees that there is now for them, in pres- \nent possession as well as in future hope, but \" One Country, One \nConstitution, and One Destiny.\" \n\nThe colonization of the tropical region, and the whole of the \nsouthern parts of the continent, by Spain and Portugal, was con- \nducted on other principles, under the influence of other motives, \nand followed by far different consequences. From the time of \nits discovery, the Spanish Government pushed forward its settle- \nments in America, not only with vigor, but with eagerness ; so \nthat, long before the first permanent English settlement had been \naccomplished in what is now the United States, Spain had con- \nquered Mexico, Peru, and Chile, and stretched her power over \nnearly all the territory she ever acquired on this continent. The \nrapidity of these conquests is to be ascribed, in a great degree, to \nthe eagerness, not to say the rapacity, of those numerous bands \nof adventiu-ers who were stimulated by individual interests and \nprivate hopes to subdue immense regions, and take possession of \nthem in the name of the Crown of Spain. The mines of gold \nand silver were the incitements to these efforts ; and accordingly \n\n1 Known in American history as King William's War (1689-97), Queen \nAnne's War (1702-13), King Geoiyt's W«r (1744-48), and the French and \nIndian War (l7S4r^^ \n\n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 59 \n\nsettlements were generally made, and Spanish authority estab- \nlished, immediately on the subjugation of territory, that the native \npopulation might be set to work by their new Spanish masters in \nthe mines. From these facts, the love of gold — gold not pro- \nduced by industry, nor accumulated by commerce, but gold dug \nfrom its native bed in the bowels of the earth, and that earth \nravished from its rightful possessors by every possible degree of \nenormity, cruelty, and crime — was long the governing passion in \nSpanish wars and Spanish settlements in America. Even Colum- \nbus himself did not wholly escape the influence of this base motive. \nIn his early voyages we find him passing from island to island, \ninquiring everywhere for gold, as if God had opened the New \nWorld to the knowledge of the Old, only to gratify a passion \nequally senseless and sordid, and to offer up miUions of an un- \noffending race of men to the destruction of the sword, sharpened \nboth by cruelty and rapacity. And yet Columbus was far above \nhis age and country; enthusiastic, indeed, but sober, religious, \nand magnanimous ; bom to great things, and capable of high \nsentiments, as his noble discourse before Ferdinand and Isabella, \nas well as the whole history of his life, shows. Probably he sac- \nrificed much to the known sentiments of others, and addressed \nto his followers motives likely to influence them. At the same \ntime, it is evident that he himself looked upon the world which \nhe discovered as a world of wealth all ready to be seized and \nenjoyed. \n\nThe conquerors and the European settlers of Spanish America \nwere mainly military commanders and common soldiers. The \nmonarchy of Spain was not transferred to this hemisphere ; but it \nacted in it, as it acted at home, through its ordinary means and \nits true representative, military force. The robbery and destruc- \ntion of the native race was the achievement of standing armies, \nin the right of the King and by his authority ; fighting in his name, \nfor the aggrandizement of his power and the extension of his \nprerogatives, with military ideas under arbitrary maxims, — a \nportion of that dreadful instrumentality by whicVv 3t ^^^^^\\. ^^'s.- \n\n\n\n6o DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\npotism governs a people. As there was no liberty in Spain, how \ncould liberty be transmitted to Spanish colonies ? \n\nThe colonists of EngHsh America were of the people, and a \npeople already free. They were of the middle, industrious, and \nalready prosperous class, the inhabitants of commercial and \nmanufacturing cities, among whom Uberty first revived and re- \nspired after a sleep of a thousand years in the bosom of the Dark \nAges. Spain descended on the New World in the armed and. \nterrible image of her monarchy and her soldiery ; England ap- \nproached it in the winning and popular garb of personal rights, \npublic protection, and civil freedom. England transplanted lib- \nerty to America ; Spain transplanted power. England, through \nthe agency of private companies and the efforts of individuals, \ncolonized this part of North America by industrious individuals, \nmaking their own way in the wilderness, defending themselves \nagainst the savages, recognizing their right to the soil, and with \na general honest purpose of introducing knowledge as well as \nChristianity among them. Spain stooped on South America like \na vulture on its prey. Everything was force. Territories were \nacquired by fire and sword. Cities were destroyed by fire and \nsword. Hundreds of thousands of human beings fell by fire and \nsword. Even conversion to Christianity was attempted by fire \nand sword. \n\nBehold, then, fellow citizens, the difference resulting from the \noperation of the two principles ! Here, to-day, on the summit \nof Bunker Hill, and at the foot of this monument, behold the \ndifference ! I would that the fifty thousand voices present could \nproclaim it with a shout which should be heard over the globe. \nOur inheritance was of liberty, seciued and regulated by law, and \nenlightened by rehgion and knowledge ; that of South America was \nof power, — stem, unrelenting, tyrannical, military power. And \nnow look to the consequences of the two principles on the general \nand aggregate happiness of the human race. Behold the results \nin all tl^e regions conquered by Cortes and Pizarro, and the con- \ntrasted results Yiext, I suppose the territory of the United States \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 6 1 \n\nmay amount to one eighth, or one tenth, of that colonized by \nSpain on this continent ; and yet in all that vast region there are \nbut between one and two millions of people of European color \nand European blood, while in the United States there are four- \nteen millions who rejoice in their descent from the people of the \nmore northern part of Europe. \n\nBut we may follow the difference in the original principle of \ncolonization, and in its character and objects, still further. We \nmust look to moral and intellectual results; we must consider \nconsequences, not only as they show themselves in hastening or \nretarding the increase of population and the supply of physical \nwants, but in their civilization, improvement, and happiness. We \nmust inquire what progress has been made in the true science of \nliberty, in the knowledge of the great principles of self-govern- \nment, and in the progress of man as a social, moral, and religious \nbeing. \n\nI would not willingly say anything on this occasion discour- \nteous to the new governments founded on the demolition of the \npower of the Spanish monarchy. They are yet on their trial, \nand I hope for a favorable result. But truth, sacred truth, and \nfidehty to the cause of civil hberty, compel me to say, that \nhitherto they have discovered quite too much of the spirit of \nthat monarchy from which they separated themselves. Quite \ntoo frequent resort is made to military force ; and quite too \nmuch of the substance of the people is consumed in maintaining \narmies, not for defense against foreign aggression, but for enfor- \ncing obedience to domestic authority. Standing armies are the \noppressive instruments for governing the people in the hands of \nhereditary and arbitrary monarchs. A military republic, a gov- \nernment founded on mock elections and supported only by the \nsword, is a movement indeed, but a retrograde and disastrous \nmovement, from the regular and old-fashioned monarchical sys- \ntems. If men would enjoy the blessings of republican govern- \nment, they must govern themselves by reason, by mutual counsel \nand consultation, by a sense and feeling of general interest^ and \n\n\n\n62 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nby the acquiescence of the minority in the will of the majority, \nproperly expressed ; and, above all, the military must be kept, \naccording to the language of our Bill of Rights, in strict subor- \ndination to the civil authority. Wherever this lesson is not both \nlearned and practiced, there can be no political freedom. Ab- \nsurd, preposterous is it, a scoff and a satire on free forms of con- \nstitutional liberty, for frames of government to be prescribed by \nmilitary leaders, and the right of suffrage to be exercised at the \npoint of the sword. \n\nMaking all allowance for situation and climate, it cannot be \ndoubted by intelligent minds that the difference now existing \nbetween North and South America is jusdy attributable, in a \ngreat degree, to political institutions in the Old World and in the \nNew. And how broad that difference is ! Suppose an assembly, \nin one of the valleys or on the side of one of the mountains of \nthe southern half of the hemisphere, to be held this day in the \nneighborhood of a large city — what would be the scene pre- \nsented ? Yonder is a volcano, flaming and smoking, but shed- \nding no light, moral or intellectual. At its foot is the mine, \nsometimes yielding, perhaps, large gains to capital, but in which \nlabor is destined to eternal and unrequited toil, and followed only \nby penury and beggary. The city is filled with armed men ; not \na free people, armed and coming forth voluntarily to rejoice in a \npublic festivity, but hireling troops, supported by forced loans, \nexcessive impositions on commerce, or taxes wrung from a half- \nfed and a half-clothed population. For the great there are palaces \ncovered with gold ; for the poor there are hovels of the meanest \nsort. There is an ecclesiastical hierarchy, enjoying the wealth of \nprinces ; but there are no means of education for the people. Do \npublic improvements favor intercourse between place and place? \nSo far from this, the traveler cannot pass from town to town \nwithout danger, every mile, of robbery and assassination. I \nwould not overcharge or exaggerate this picture ; but its princi- \npal features are all too truly sketched. \n\nAwd how does it contrast with the scene now actually before \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS, 63 \n\nUS ? Look round upon these fields ; they are verdant and beau- \ntiful, well cultivated, and at this moment loaded with the riches \nof the early harvest. The hands which till them are those of the \nfree owners of the soil, enjoying equal rights, and protected by \nlaw from oppression and tyranny. Look to tlie thousand vessels \nin our sight, filling the harbor, or covering the neighboring sea. \nThey are the vehicles of a profitable commerce, carried on by \nmen who know that the profits of their hardy enterprise, when \nthey make them, are their own ; and this commerce is encouraged \nand regulated by wise laws, and defended, when need be, by the \nvalor and patriotism of the country. Look to that fair city, the \nabode of so much diffused wealth, so much general happiness \nand comfort, so much personal independence, and so much gen- \n.eral knowledge, and not undistinguished, I may be permitted to \naxldy for hospitality and social refinement. She fears no forced \ncontributions, no siege or sacking from military leaders of rival \nfactions. The hundred temples in which her citizens worship \nGod are in no danger of sacrilege. The regular administration \nof the laws encounters no obstacle. The long processions of \nchildren and youth which you see this day issuing by thousands \nfrom her free schools, prove the care and anxiety with which a \npopular government provides for the education and morals of \nthe people. Everywhere there is order; everywhere there is \nsecurity. Everywhere the law reaches to the highest, and reaches \nto the lowest, to protect all in their rights, and to restrain all from \nwrong ; and over all hovers Liberty, — that Liberty for which our \nfathers fought and fell on this very spot, — with her eye ever \nwatchful and her eagle wing ever wide outspread. \n\nThe colonies of Spain, from their origin to their end, were sub- \nject to the sovereign authority of the mother country. Their \ngovernment, as well as their commerce, was a strict home monop- \noly. If we add to this the established usage of filling important \nposts in the administration of the colonies exclusively by natives \nof Old Spain, thus cutting off forever all hopes of honorable pre- \nferment from every man born in the Western hemisphere, causes \n\n\n\n64 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nenough rise up before us at once to account fully for the subse- \nquent history and character of these provinces. The viceroys \nand provincial governors of Spain were never at home in their \ngovernments in America. They did not feel that they were of \nthe people whom they governed. Their official character and \nemployment have a good deal of resemblance to those of the \nproconsuls of Rome in Asia, Sicily, and Gaul, but obviously no \nresemblance to those of Carver and Winthrop, and very little to \nthose of the governors of Virginia after that Colony had estab- \nlished a popular House of Burgesses. \n\nThe English colonists in America, generally speaking, were \nmen who were seeking new homes in a new world. They brought \nwith them their families and all that was most dear to them. This \nwas especially the case with the colonists of Plymouth and Mas- \nsachusetts. Many of them were educated men, and all possessed \ntheir full share, according to their social condition, of the knowl- \nedge and attainments of that age. The distinctive characteristic \nof their settlement is the introduction of the civilization of Europe \ninto a wilderness, without bringing with it the political institutions \nof Europe. The arts, sciences, and hterature of England came \nover with the settlers. That great portion of the common law \nwhich regulates the social and personal relations and conduct of \nmen came also. The jury came ; the habeas corpus came ; the \ntestamentary power came ; and the law of inheritance and de- \nscent came also, except that part of it which recognizes the rights \nof primogeniture,^ which either did not come at all, or soon gave \nway to the rule of equal partition of estates among children. But \nthe monarchy did not come, nor the aristocracy, nor the church, \nas an estate of the realm. Political institutions were to be \nframed anew, such as should be adapted to the state of things. \nBut it could not be doubtful what should be the nature and char- \nacter of these institutions. A general social equality prevailed \namong the settlers, and an equahty of political rights seemed the \n\n1 \"Rights of primogeniture,\" i.e., the law providing that the eldest son \nshould inherit the entire estate of his father. \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 65 \n\nnatural, if not the necessary consequence. After forty years of \nrevolution, violence, and war, the people of France have placed \nat the head of the fundamental instrument of their government, \nas the great boon obtained by all their sufferings and sacrifices, \nthe declaration that all Frenchmen are equal before the law. \nWhat France has reached only by the expenditure of so much \nblood and treasure, and the perpetration of so much crime, the \nEnglish colonists obtained by simply changing their place, carry- \ning with them the intellectual and moral culture of Europe, and \nthe personal and social relations to which they were accustomed, \nbut leaving behind their political institutions. It has been said \nVrith much vivacity, that the felicity of the American colonists \n<2onsisted in their escape from the past. This is true so far as \nirespects political establishments, but no farther.' They brought \n^th them a full portion of all the riches of the past, in science, \nin art, in morals, religion, and literature. The Bible came with \nthem. And it is not to be doubted, that to the free and univer- \nsal reading of the Bible, in that age, men were much indebted \nfor right views of civil liberty. The Bible is a book of faith, and \na book of doctrine, and a book of morals, and a book of reli- \ngion, of especial revelation from God ; but it is also a book which \nteaches man his own individual responsibility, his own dignity, \nand his equality with his fellow man. \n\nBacon and Locke, and Shakespeare and Milton, also came \nwith the colonists. It was the object of the first settlers to form \nnew political systems ; but all that belonged to cultivated man, to \nfamily, to neighborhood, to social relations, accompanied them. \nIn the Doric ^ phrase of one of our own historians, \" They came to \nsettle on bare creation ; \" but their settlement in the wilderness, \nnevertheless, was not a lodgment of nomadic tribes, a mere rest- \ning place of roaming savages. It was the beginning of a per- \nmanent community, the fixed residence of cultivated men. Not \nonly was English literature read, but English, good English, was \nspoken and written, before the ax had made way to let in the \n\n1 Plain, unadorned. \n\n\n\n66 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nsun upon the habitations and fields of Plymouth and Massachu- \nsetts. And, whatever may be said to the contrary, a correct use \nof the English language is, at this day, more general throughout \nthe United States than it is throughout England herself. \n\nBut another grand characteristic is, that in the English Colonies \npolitical affairs were left to be managed by the colonists them- \nselves. This is another fact wholly distinguishing them in char- \nacter, as it has distinguished them in fortune, from the colonists \nof Spain. Here Hes the foundation of that experience in self- \ngovernment which has preserved order and security and regu- \nlarity amidst the play of popular institutions. Home govern- \nment was the secret of the prosperity of the North-American \nsettlements. The more distinguished of the New-England colo- \nnists, with a mdSt remarkable sagacity and a long-sighted reach \ninto futurity, refused to come to America unless they could bring \nwith them charters providing for the administration of their \naffairs in this country. They saw from the first the evils of \nbeing governed in the New World by a power fixed in the Old. \nAcknowledging the general superiority of the Crown, they still \ninsisted on the right of passing local laws, and of local adminis- \ntration. And history teaches us the justice and the value of this \ndetermination in the example of Virginia. The early attempts \nto settle that Colony failed, sometimes with the most melancholy \nand fatal consequences, from want of knowledge, care, and atten- \ntion on the part of those who had the charge of their affairs in \nEngland ; and it was only after the issuing of the third charter \nthat its prosperity fairly commenced. The cause was, that by \nthat third charter the people of Virginia, for by this time they \ndeserved to be so called, were allowed to constitute and estabUsh \nthe first popular representative assembly which ever convened \non this continent, — the Virginia House of Burgesses. ^ \n\nThe great elements, then, of the American system of govern- \nment, originally introduced by the colonists, and which were early \n\n1 The first House of Burgesses in Virginia was convened by Gov. Yeard- \nley in ibi% thirteen years after the landing at Jamestown. \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 67 \n\nj in operation, and ready to be developed more and more as the \n10 I P^^S'^^ss of events should justify or demand, were : — \n\nEscape from the existing political systems of Europe, includ- \ning its religious hierarchies,^ but the continued possession and \nenjoyment of its science and arts, its literature and its manners ; \n\nHome government, or the power of making in the Colony the \nMunicipal laws which were to govern it ; \nEquality of rights ; \n\nRepresentative assemblies, or forms of government founded on \nPopular elections. \n\nFew topics are more inviting, or more fit for philosophical \ndiscussion, than the effect on the happiness of mankind of in- \n^,^itutions founded upon these principles ; or, in other words, the \n*^^*^^uence of the New World upon the Old. \n\nHer obligations to Europe for science and art, laws, literature, \n^•Hd manners, America acknowledges as she ought, with respect \n^-Tid gratitude. The people of the United States, descendants of \n^lie English stock, grateful for the treasiu'es of knowledge derived \n^rom their English ancestors, admit also, with thanks and filial \nRegard, that among those ancestors, under the culture of Hamp- \nden and Sidney 2 and other assiduous friends, that seed of popu- \nlar liberty first germinated, which on our soil has shot up to its \nCuU height, until its branches overshadow all the land. \n\nBut America has not failed to make returns. If she has not \n\"wholly canceled the obligation, or equaled it by others of like \n'weight, she has at least made respectable advances towards re- \npaying the debt. And she admits that, standing in the midst \nof civilized nations and in a civilized age, a nation among na- \ntions, there is a high part which she is expected to act for the \ngeneral advancement of human interests and human welfare. \n\n1 Governments by the priesthood. \n\n2 John Hampden (i 594-1643) and Algernon Sidney (1622-83), English \npatriots distinguished for their fearless advocacy of the rights of the people \nin opposition to kingly tyranny. \n\n\n\n68 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nAmerican mines have filled the mints of Europe with the pre- \ncious metals. The productions of the American soil and chmate \nhave poiu-ed out their abundance of luxuries for the tables of the \nrich and of necessaries for the sustenance of the poor. Birds \nand animals of beauty and value have been added to the Euro- \npean stocks ; and transplantations from the unequaled riches of \nour forests have mingled themselves profusely with the elms and \nashes and druidical oaks of England. \n\nAmerica has made contributions to Europe far more impor- \ntant. Who can estimate the amount, or the value, of the aug- \nmentation of the commerce of the world that has resulted from \nAmerica? Who can imagine to himself what would now be the \nshock to the Eastern Continent, if the Atlantic were no longer \ntraversable, or if there were no longer American productions or \nAmerican markets ? \n\nBut America exercises influences, or holds out examples, for \nthe consideration of the Old World, of a much higher, because \nthey are of a moral and political character. \n\nAmerica has ftu*nished to Europe proof of the fact that popu- \nlar institutions, founded on equality and the principle of repre- \nsentation, are capable of maintaining governments able to secure \nthe rights of person, property, and reputation. \n\nAmerica has proved that it is practicable to elevate the mass^ \nof mankind, — that portion which in Europe is called the laboring,, \nor lower class, — to raise them to self-respect, to make them com— \npetent to act a part in the great right and great duty of self-gov- \nernment ; and she has proved that this may be done by education, \nand the diffusion of knowledge. She holds out an example, a^ \nthousand times more encouraging than ever was presented be- \nfore, to those nine tenths of the human race who are b6m with- \nout hereditary fortune or hereditary rank. \n\nAmerica has furnished to the world the character of Washing- \nton. And, if our American institutions had done nothing else, \nthat alone would have entitled them to the respect of mankind. \n\nWashington ! \" First in war, first in peace, and first in the \n\n\n\n■ - - ■ -\"-■ \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS. 69 \n\nhearts of his countrymen ! \" ^ Washington is all our own ! The \nenthusiastic veneration and regard in which the people of the \nUnited States hold him prove them to be worthy of such a \ncountryman; while his reputation abroad reflects the highest \nhonor on his country. I would cheerfully put the question to- \nday to the intelligence of Europe and the world, What character \nof the century, upon the whole, stands out in the relief of history, \nmost pure, most respectable, most sublime? and I doubt not, \nthat, by a suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would \nbe, Washington ! \n\nThe structure now standing before us, by its uprightness, its \nsolidity, its dtuability, is no unfit emblem of his character. His \npublic virtues and public principles were as firm as the earth on \n'which it stands; his personal motives, as pure as the serene \nlieaven in which its summit is lost. But, indeed, though a fit, \nit is an inadequate emblem. Towering high above the column \n\"which our hands have builded, beheld, not by the inhabitants of \na single city or a single State, but by all the families of man, \nascends the colossal grandeiu* of the character and life of Wash- \nington. In all the constituents of the one, in all the acts of the \nother, in all its titles to immortal love, admiration, and renown, \nit is an American production. It is the embodiment and vindi- \ncation of our Transatlantic liberty. Bom upon our soil, of par- \nents also bom upon it ; never for a moment having had sight of \nthe Old World ; instructed, according to the modes of his time, \nonly in the spare, plain, but wholesome elementary knowledge \nwhich our institutions provide for the children of the people ; \ngrowing up beneath and penetrated by the genuine influences of \nAmerican society; living, from infancy to manhood and age, \namidst our expanding but not luxurious civilization ; partaking \nin our great destiny of labor, oiu* long contest with unreclaimed \nnature and uncivilized man, our agony of glory, the war of Inde- \npendence, our great victory of peace, the formation of the Union \n\n1 These words were first used by Henry Lee in his oration on the death \nof Washington. \n\n\n\n^o DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nand the establishment of the Constitution, — he is all, all our \nown ! Washington is ours. That crowded and glorious life, — \n\n\" Where multitudes of virtues passed along. \nEach pressing foremost, in the mighty throng \nAmbitious to be seen, then making room \nFor greater multitudes that were to come,\" — \n\nthat life was the life of an American citizen. \n\nI claim him for America. In all the perils, in every darkened \nmoment of the state, in the midst of the reproaches of enemies \nand the misgivings of friends, I turn to that transcendent name \nfor courage and for consolation. To him who denies or doubts \nwhether our fervid liberty can be combined with law, with order, \nwith the security of property, with the pursuits and advancement \nof happiness ; to him who denies that om- forms of government \nare capable of producing exaltation of soul and the passion of \ntrue glory ; to him who denies that we have contributed anything \nto the stock of great lessons and great examples, — to all these I \nreply by pointing to Washington. \n\nAnd now, friends and fellow citizens, it is time to bring this \ndiscourse to a close. \n\nWe 'have indulged in gratifying recollections of the past, in the \nprosperity and pleasures of the present, and in high hopes for the \nfuture. But let us remember that we have duties and obligations \nto perform corresponding to the blessings which we enjoy. Let \nus remember the trust, the sacred trust, attaching to the rich in- \nheritance which we have received from our fathers. Let us feel \nour personal responsibility, to the full extent of our power and \ninfluence, for the preservation of the principles of civil ^nd reli- \ngious liberty. And let us remember that it is only religion and \nmorals and knowledge, that can make men respectable^ and \nhappy under any form of government. Let us hold fast the \ngreat truth, that communities are responsible, as well as individ- \n\n1 See note, p. 50. \n\n\n\nSECOND BUNKER HILL ADDRESS, 71 \n\nuals ; that no government is respectable ^ which is not just ; that \nwithout unspotted purity of public faith, without sacred public \nprinciple, fidelity, and honor, no mere forms of government, no \nmachinery of laws, can give dignity to pohtical society. In our \nday and generation let us seek to raise and improve the moral \nsentiment, so that we may look, not for a degraded, but for an \nelevated and improved future. And when both we and our \nchildren shall have been consigned to the house appointed for \nall living, may love of country and pride of country glow with \nequal fervor among those to whom our names and oiu* blood \nshall have descended ! And then, when honored and decrepit \nage shall lean against the base of this monument, and troops of \ningenuous youth shall be gathered round it, and when the one \nshall speak to the other of its objects, the purposes of its con- \nstruction, and the great and glorious events with which it is con- \nnected, there shall rise from every youthful breast the ejaculation, \n\"Thank God, I — I also — am an American !\" \n\n1 See note, p. 50. \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. \n\nA SPEECH DELIVERED AT A PUBLIC DINNER IN THE CITY OF \n\nWASHINGTON, ON THE 2 2D OF FEBRUARY, 1832, THE \n\nCENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF WASHINGTON'S \n\nBIRTHDAY. \n\n\n\nI RISE, gentlemen, to propose to you the name of that great \nman in commemoration of whose birth, and in honor of \nwhose character and services, we are here assembled. \n\nI am sure that I express a sentiment common to every one \npresent, when I say that there is something more than ordinarily \nsolemn and affecting in this occasion. \n\nWe are met to testify om* regard for him whose name is inti- \nmately blended with whatever belongs most essentially to the \nprosperity, the liberty, the free institutions, and the renown of our \ncountry. That name was of power to rally a nation in the hour \nof thick-thronging public disasters and calamities; that name \nshone, amid the storm of war, a beacon light, to cheer and guide \nthe country's friends ; it flamed, too, like a meteor, to repel her \nfoes. That name, in the days of peace, was a loadstone, attract- \ning to itself a whole people's confidence, a whole people's love, \nand the whole world's respect. That name, descending with all \ntime, spreading over the whole earth, and uttered in all the lan- \nguages belonging to the tribes and races of men, will forever be \npronounced with affectionate gratitude by every one in whose \nbreast there shall arise an aspiration for human rights and human \nliberty. \n\nWe perform this grateful duty, gentlemen, at the expiration of \n\n72 \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON, 73 \n\na. hundred years from his birth, near the place, so cherished and \nb>eloved by him, where his dust now reposes, and in the capital \ni^hich bears his own immortal name. \n\nAll experience evinces that human sentiments are strongly \n\ninfluenced by associations. The recurrence of anniversaries, or \n\nof longer periods of time, naturally freshens the recollection, and \n\ndeepens the impression, of events with which they are historical- \n\nTy connected. Renowned places, also, have a power to awaken \n\n:£eeling, which all acknowledge. No American can pass by the \n\niields of Bunker Hill, Monmouth, and Camden, as if they were \n\nordinary spots on the earth's surface. Whoever visits them feels \n\nthe sentiment of love of country kindling anew, as if the spirit \n\nthat belonged to the transactions which have rendered these \n\nplaces distinguished, still hovered round, with power to move and \n\nexcite all who iix future time may approach them. \n\nBut neither of these sources of emotion equals the power with \nwhich great moral examples affect the mind. When subHme \nvirtues cease to be abstractions, when they become embodied in \nhuman character, and exemplified in human conduct, we should \nbe false to our own nature if we did not indulge in the spontane- \nous effusions of our gratitude and our admiration. A true lover \nof the virtue of patriotism delights to contemplate its purest \nmodels ; and that love of country may be well suspected which \naffects to soar so high into the regions of sentiment as to be lost \nand absorbed in the abstract feeling, and becomes too elevated \nor too refined to glow with fervor in the commendation or the \nlove of individual benefactors. All this is unnatural. It is as if \none should be so enthusiastic a lover of poetry as to care noth- \ning for Homer or Milton ; so passionately attached to eloquence \nas to be indifferent to Tully ^ and Chatham ; 2 or such a devotee \nto the arts, in such an ecstasy with the elements of beauty, pro- \nportion, and expression, as to regard the masterpieces of Raphael ^ \n\n1 Marcus Tullius Cicero, the most famous Roman orator (106-43 B.C.). \n\n2 William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, the *' Great Commoner\" (1708-78). \n\n3 Raphael, or Raffaelle Santi d'Urbino, Italian painter (1483-1520). \n\n\n\n74 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nand Michael Angelo ^ with coldness or contempt. We may be \nassured, gentlemen, that he who really loves the thing itself, \nloves its finest exhibitions. A true friend of his country loves her \nfriends and benefactors, and thinks it no degradation to commend \nand commemorate them. The voluntary outpouring of the public \nfeeling made to-day, from the North to the South, and from the \nEast to the West, proves this sentiment to be both just and nat- \nlu-al. In the cities and in the villages, in the public temples and \nin the family circles, among all ages and sexes, gladdened voices \nto-day bespeak grateful hearts and a freshened recollection of \nthe virtues of the Father of his Country. And it will be so in \nall time to come, so long as pubhc virtue is itself an object of \nregard. The ingenuous youth of America will hold up to them- \nselves the bright model of Washington's example, and study to \nbe what they behold ; they will contemplate his character till all \nits virtues spread out and display themselves to their delighted \nvision, as the earliest astronomers, the shepherds on the plains \nof Babylon, gazed at the stars till they saw them form into \nclusters and constellations, overpowering at length the eyes of \nthe beholders with the united blaze of a thousand lights. \n\nGentlemen, we are at a point of a centur)'^ from the birth of \nWashington ; and what a century it has been ! During its course, \nthe human mind has seemed to proceed with a sort of geo- \nmetric velocity, accomplishing for human intelligence and human \nfreedom more than had been done in fives or tens of centiuies \npreceding. Washington stands at the commencement of a new \nera, as well as at the head of the New World. A centiuy from the \nbirth of Washington has changed the world. The country of \nWashington has been the theater on which a great part of that \nchange has been wrought, and Washington himself a principal \nagent by which it has been accompHshed. His age and his \ncountry are equally full of wonders ; and of both he is the chief. \n\nIf the poetical prediction uttered a few years before his birth \nbe true ; if indeed it be designed by Providence that the grandest \n\n1 Michael Angelo Buonarroti, Italian painter and sculptor (1485- 1564). \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON, 75 \n\nexhibition of human character and human affairs shall be made \non this theater of the Western world ; if it be true that \n\n** The four first acts already past, \nA fifth shall close the drama with the day : \nTime's noblest offspring is the last,\"i — \n\nhow could this imposing, swelling, final scene be appropriately \nopened, how could its intense interest be adequately sustained, but \nby the introduction of just such a character as our Washington ? \nWashington had attained his manhood when that spark of hb- \nerty was struck out in his own country which has since kindled \ninto a flame, and shot its beams over the earth. In the flow of \na century from his birth, the world has changed in science, in \narts, in the extent of commerce, in the improvement of naviga- \ntion, and in all that relates to the civilization of man. But it is \nthe spirit of human freedom, the new elevation of individual \nman, in his moral, social, and political character, leading the \nwhole long train of other improvements, which has most remark- \nably distinguished the era. Society, in this century, has not made \nits progress, like Chinese skill, by a greater acuteness of ingenuity \nin trifles ; it has not merely lashed itself to an increased speed \nround the old circles of thought and action ; but it has assumed \na new character ; it has raised itself from beneath governments to \na participation in governments ; it has mixed moral and political \nobjects with the daily pursuits of individual men ; and, with a \nfreedom and strength before altogether unknown, it has applied \nto these objects the whole power of the human imderstanding. \nIt has been the era, in short, when the social principle has tri- \numphed over the feudal principle ; when society has maintained \nits rights against military power, and established, on foundations \nnever hereafter to be shaken, its competency to govern itself. \n\n1 From a poem entitled On the Prospect of Planting Arts and Learn- \ning in America, written by Bishop Berkeley in 1724. The first line of the \n\nstanza is, \n\n\" Westward the course of empire takes its way.\" \n\n\n\n^6 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nIt was the extraordinary fortune of Washington, that having \nbeen intrusted in Revolutionary times with the supreme military \ncommand, and having fulfilled that trust with equal renown for \nwisdom and for valor, he should be placed at the head of the \nfirst government in which an attempt was to be made on a large \nscale to rear the fabric of social order on the basis of a written \nconstitution and of a pure representative principle. A govern- \nment was to be established, without a throne, without an aristoc- \nracy, without castes, orders, or privileges ; and this government, \ninstead of being a democracy, existing and acting within the \nwalls of a single city, was to be extended over a vast country, of \ndifferent climates, interests, and habits, and of various commun- \nions of our common Christian faith. The experiment certainly \nwas entirely new. A popular government of this extent, it was \nevident, could be framed only by carrying into full effect the \nprinciple of representation or of delegated power ; and the world \nwas to see whether society could, by the strength of this princi- \nple, maintain its own peace and good government, carry forward \nits own great interests, and conduct itself to political renown and \nglory. By the benignity of Providence, this experiment, so full \nof interest to us and to our posterity forever, so full of interest, \nindeed, to the world in its present generation and in all its gen- \nerations to come, was suffered to commence under the guidance \nof Washington. Destined for this high career, he was fitted for \nit by wisdom, by virtue, by patriotism, by discretion, by whatever \ncan inspire confidence in man towards man. In entering on the \nuntried scenes, early disappointment and the prematiu'e extinc- \ntion of all hope of success would have been certain, had it not \nbeen that there did exist throughout the country, in a most ex- \ntraordinary degree, an unwavering trust in him who stood at the \nhelm. \n\nI remarked, gentlemen, that the whole world was and is in- \nterested in the result of this experiment. And is it not so ? Do \nwe deceive ourselves, or is it true that at this moment the career \nwhich this government is running is among the most attractive \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON, 77 \n\nobjects to the civilized world ? Do we deceive ourselves, or is it \ntrue that at this moment that love of liberty, and that understand- \ning of its true principles, which are flying over the whole earth \nas on the wings of all the winds, are really and truly of American \norigin ?»> \n\nAt the period of the birth of Washington, there existed in \nEurope no political liberty in large communities, except in the \nprovinces of Holland, and except that England herself had set a \ngreat example, so far as it went, by her glorious Revolution of \n1688. Everywhere else despotic power was predominant, and \nthe feudal or military principle held the mass of mankind in \nhopeless bondage. One half of Europe was crushed beneath the \nBourbon scepter ; and no conception of political liberty, no hope \neven of rehgious toleration, existed among that nation which was \nAmerica's first ally. The king was the state,i the king was the \ncountry, the king was all. There was one king, with power not \nderived from his people, and too high to be questioned ; and the \nrest were all subjects, with no political right but obedience. All \nabove was intangible power; all below, quiet subjection. A \nrecent occurrence in the French Chambers shows us how public \nopinion on these subjects is changed. A minister had spoken of \nthe \" king's subjects.\" \" There are no subjects,\" exclaimed hun- \ndreds of voices at once, \" in a country where the people make \nthe king ! \" \n\nGentlemen, the spirit of human liberty and of free government, \nnurtured and grown into strength and beauty in America, has \nstretched its course into the midst of the nations. Like an \nemanation from Heaven, it has gone forth, and it will not return \nvoid. It must change, it is fast changing, the face of the earth. \nOur great, our high duty is to show, in our own example, that \nthis spirit is a spirit of health as well as a spirit of power ; that \nits benignity is as great as its strength; that its efficiency to \nsecure individual rights, social relations, and moral order, is equal \n\n1 An allusion to the famous dictum of Louis XIV., ** Vitat c'est moV* \n(\" I am the state \"), See p. 37. \n\n\n\n78 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nto the irresistible force with which it prostrates principalities and \npowers. The world at this moment is regarding us with a will- \ning, but something of a fearful admiration. Its deep and awful \nanxiety is to learn whether free states may be stable, as well as \nfree ; whether popular power may be trusted, as well as feared : \nin short, whether wise, regular, and virtuous self-government is a \nvision for the contemplation of theorists, or a truth established, \nillustrated, and brought into practice in the country of Washington. \n\nGentlemen, for the earth which we inhabit and the whole circle \nof the sun, for all the unborn races of mankind, we seem to hold \nin our hands, for their weal or woe, the fate of this experiment. \nIf we fail, who shall venture the repetition ? If our example \nshall prove to be one, not of encouragement, but of terror, not \nfit to be imitated, but fit only to be shunned, where else shall \nthe world look for free models ? If this great Western Sun be \nstruck out of the firmament, at what other fountain shall the lamp \nof Hberty hereafter be lighted ? What other orb shall emit a ray \nto glimmer even, on the darkness of the world ? \n\nThere is no danger of our overrating or overstating the impor- \ntant part which we are now acting in human affairs. It should \nnot flatter our personal self-respect ; but it should reanimate our \npatriotic virtues, and inspire us witli a deeper and more solemn \nsense, both of our privileges and of our duties. We cannot wish \nbetter for our country nor for the world than that the same \nspirit which influenced Washington may influence all who suc- \nceed him; and that the same blessing from above, which at- \ntended his efforts, may also attend theirs. \n\nThe principles of Washington's administration are not left \ndoubtful. They are to be found in the Constitution itself, in \nthe great measures recommended and approved by him, in his \nspeeches to Congress, and in that most interesting paper, his \n\" Farewell Address to the People of the United States.\" The \nsuccess of the government under his administration is the highest \nproof of the soundness of these principles. And, after an experi- \nence of thirty-five years, what is there which an enemy could \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 79 \n\ncondemn ? What is there which either his friends, or the friends \nof the country, could wish to have been otherwise ? I speak, of \ncourse, of great measures and leading principles. \n\nIn the first place, all his measures were right in their intent. \nHe stated the whole basis of his own great character, when he \ntold the country, in the homely phrase of the proverb, that hon- \nesty is the best poHcy. One of the most striking things ever said \nof him is, that \" he changed mankind* s ideas of political greatness,** ^ \nTo commanding talents and to success, the common elements \nof such greatness, he added a disregard of self, a spotlessness of \nmotive, a steady submission to every public and private duty, \nwhich threw far into the shade the whole crowd of vulgar great. \nThe object of his regard was the whole country. No part of it \nwas enough to fill his enlarged patriotism. His love of glory, so \nfar as that may be supposed to have influenced him at all, spumed \neverything short of general approbation. It would have been \nnothing to him, that his partisans or his favorites outnumbered, \nor outvoted, or outmanaged, or outclamored, those of other lead- \ners. He had no favorites; he rejected all partisanship; and, \nacting honestly for the universal good, he deserved what he has \nso richly enjoyed, — the universal love. \n\nHis principle it was, to act right, and to trust the people for \nsupport ; his principle it was, not to follow the lead of sinister and \nselfish ends, nor to rely on the little arts of party delusion to \nobtain public sanction for such a course. Born for his country \nand for the world, he did not give up to party what was meant for \nmankind. The consequence is, that his fame is as diu'able as \nhis principles, as lasting as truth and virtue themselves. While \nthe hundreds whom party excitement, and temporary circum \nstances, and casual combinations, have raised into transier \nnotoriety, sink again, like thin bubbles, bursting and dissolvin \ninto the great ocean, Washington's fame is like the rock whic \nbounds that ocean, and at whose feet its billows are destined \nbreak harmlessly forever. \n\n1 Works of Fisher Ames. \n\n\n\n8o DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nThe maxims upon which Washington conducted our foreign \nrelations were few and simple. The first was an entire and \nindisputable impartiaHty towards foreign states. He adhered \nto this rule of public conduct against very strong inducements to \ndepart from it, and when the popularity of the moment seemed \nto favor such a departure. In the next place, he maintained true \ndignity and unsullied honor in all communications with foreign \nstates. It was among the high duties devolved upon him to in- \ntroduce our new government into the circle of civilized states and \npowerful nations. Not arrogant or assuming, with no imbecom- \ning or supercilious bearing, he yet exacted for it from all others \nentire and punctilious respect. He demanded, and he obtained \nat once, a standing of perfect equality for his country in the \nsociety of nations ; nor was there a prince or potentate of his day \nwhose personal character carried with it, into the intercourse of \nother states, a greater degree of respect and veneration. \n\nHe regarded other nations only as they stood in political rela- \ntions to us. With their internal affairs, their political parties and \ndissensions, he scrupulously abstained from all interference ; and, \non the other hand, he repelled with spirit all such interference by \nothers with us or our concerns. His sternest rebuke, the most \nindignant measure of his whole administration, was aimed against \nsuch an attempted interference. He felt it as an attempt to \nwound the national honor, and resented it accordingly. \n\nThe reiterated admonitions in his \" Farewell Address \" show his \ndeep fears that foreign influence would insinuate itself into our \ncounsels through the channels of domestic dissension, and obtain \na sympathy with our own temporary parties. Against all such \ndangers, he most earnestly entreats the country to guard itself. \nHe appeals to its patriotism, to its self-respect, to its own honor, \nto every consideration connected with its welfare and happiness, \nto resist, at the very beginning, all tendencies towards such con- \nnection of foreign interests with our own affairs. With a tone \nof earnestness nowhere else found, even in his last affectionate \nfarewell advice to his countrymen, he says, \" Against the insid- \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON, 8 1 \n\nious wiles of foreign influence (I conjure you to believe me, fel- \nlow citizens), the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly \nawake, since history and experience prove that foreign influence \nis one of the most baneful foes of republican government.\" \n\nLastly, on the subject of foreign relations, Washington never \nforgot that we had interests peculiar to ourselves. The primary \npolitical concerns of Europe, he saw, did not affect us. We had \nnothing to do with her balance of power, her family compacts, \nor her successions to thrones. We were placed in a condition \nfavorable to neutrality during Eiu\"opean wars, and to the enjoy- \nment of all the great advantages of that relation. \" Why, then,\" \nhe asks us, \" why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situa- \ntion ? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, \nby intierweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, \nentangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambi- \ntion, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice ? \" \n\nIndeed, gentlemen, Washington's \" Farewell Address \" is full of \ntruths important at all times, and particularly deserving consid- \neration at the present. With a sagacity which brought the future \nbefore him, and made it like the present, he saw and pointed out \nthe dangers that even at this moment most imminently threaten us. \nI hardly know how a greater service of that kind could now be \ndone to the community than by a renewed and wide diffusion of \nthat admirable paper, and an earnest invitation to every man in \nthe country to reperuse and consider it. Its political maxims \nare invaluable; its exhortations to love of country and to \nbrotherly affection among citizens, touching; and the solem- \nnity with which it urges the observance of moral duties, and im- \npresses the power of religious obligation, gives to it the highest \ncharacter of truly disinterested, sincere, parental advice. \n\nThe domestic policy of Washington found its polestar in the \navowed objects of the Constitution itself. He sought so to \nadminister that Constitution as to form a more perfect union, \nestablish justice, insure domestic tranquiUity, provide for the \ncommon defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the \n6 \n\n\n\n82 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nblessings of liberty. These were objects interesting in the high- \nest degree to the whole country ; and his policy embraced the \nwhole country. \n\nAmong his earliest and most important duties was the organ- \nization of the government itself, the choice of his confidential \nadvisers, and the various appointments to office. This duty, so \nimportant and delicate, when a whole government was to be \norganized, and all its oflSices for the first time filled, was yet not \ndifficult to him ; for he had no sinister ends to accomplish, no \nclamorous partisans to gratify, no pledges to redeem, no object \nto be regarded, but simply the public good. It was a plain, \nstraightforward matter, a mere honest choice of good men for \nthe public service. \n\nHis own singleness of purpose, his disinterested patriotism, \nwere evinced by the selection of his first Cabinet, and by the \nmanner in which he filled the seats of justice and other places \nof high trust. He sought for men fit for ofl5ces, not for offices \nwhich might suit men. Above personal considerations, above \nlocal considerations, above party considerations, he felt that he \ncould only discharge the sacred trust which the country had \nplaced in his hands, by a diligent inquiry after real merit, and a \nconscientious preference of virtue and talent. The whole coun- \ntry was the field of his selection. He explored that whole field, \nlooking only for whatever it contained most worthy and distin- \nguished. He was, indeed, most successful ; and he deserved suc- \ncess for the purity of his motives, the liberality of his sentiments, \nand his enlarged and manly poHcy. \n\nWashington's administration established the national credit, \nmade provision for the public debt and for that patriotic army \nwhose interests and welfare were always so dear to him, and, \nby laws wisely framed and of admirable effect, raised the com- \nmerce and navigation of the country, almost at once, from de- \npression and ruin to a state of prosperity. Nor were his eyes \nopen to these interests alone. He viewed with equal concern its \nagriculture and manufactures, and, so far as they came within the \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 83 \n\nregular exercise of the powers of this government, they experi- \nenced regard and favor. \n\nIt should not be omitted, even in this slight reference to the \ngeneral measures and general principles of the first President, \nthat he saw and felt the full value and importance of the judicial \ndepartment of the government. An upright and able administra- \ntion of the laws, he held to be alike indispensable to private hap- \npiness and public Hberty. The temple of justice, in his opinion, \nwas a sacred place, and he would profane and pollute it who \nshould call any to minister in it not spotless in character, not \nincorruptible in integrity, not competent by talent and learning, \nnot a fit object of unhesitating trust. \n\nAmong other admonitions, Washington has left us, in his last \ncommunication to his country, an exhortation against the ex- \ncesses of party spirit. A fire not to be quenched, he yet con- \njures us not to fan and feed the flame. Undoubtedly, gentle- \nmen, it is the greatest danger of our system and of our time. \nUndoubtedly, if that system should be overthrown, it will be the \nwork of excessive party spirit, acting on the government, which \nis dangerous enough, or acting in the government, which is a \nthousand times more dangerous ; for government then becomes \nnothing but organized party, and, in the strange vicissitudes of \nhuman affairs, it may come at last, perhaps, to exhibit the singu- \nlar paradox of government itself being in opposition to its own \npowers, at war with the very elements of its own existence. Such \ncases are hopeless. As men may be protected against murder, \nbut cannot be guarded against suicide, so government may be \nshielded from the assaults of external foes ; but nothing can save \nit when it chooses to lay violent hands on itself. \n\nFinally, gentlemen, there was in the breast of Washington one \nsentiment so deeply felt, so constantly uppermost, that no proper \noccasion escaped without its utterance. From the letter which \nhe signed in behalf of the Convention when the Constitution was \nsent out to the people, to the moment when he put his hand to \nthat last paper in which he addressed his countrymen, the Union \n\n\n\n84 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\n— the Union was the great object of his thoughts. In that first \nletter he tells them that, to him and his brethren of the Conven- \ntion, union appears to be the greatest interest of every true Ameri- \ncan ; and in that last paper he conjures them to regard that unity \nof government which constitutes them one people, as the very \npalladium i of their prosperity and safety, and the security of \nliberty itself. He regarded the union of these States less as one \nof our blessings than as the great treasure-house which contained \nthem all. Here, in his judgment, was the great magazine of all \nour means of prosperity ; here, as he thought, and as every true \nAmerican still thinks, are deposited all oiu* animating prospects, \nall our solid hopes for future greatness. He has taught us to \nmaintain this union, not by seeking to enlarge the powers of the \ngovernment, on the one hand, nor by surrendering them, on the \nother, but by an administration of them at once firm and mod- \nerate, pursuing objects truly national, and carried on in a spirit \nof justice and equity. \n\nThe extreme solicitude for the preservation of the Union, at \nall times manifested by him, shows not only the opinion he \nentertained of its importance, but his clear perception of those \ncauses which were likely to spring up to endanger it, and which, \nif once they should overthrow the present system, would leave \nlittle hope of any future beneficial union. Of all the presump- \ntions indulged by presumptuous man, that is one of the rashest \nwhich looks for repeated and favorable opportunities for the \ndeliberate establishment of a united government over distinct and \nwidely extended communities. Such a thing has happened once \nin human affairs, and but once: the event stands out as a prom- \ninent exception to all ordinary history ; and, unless we suppose \nourselves running into an age of miracles, we may not expect its \nrepetition. \n\nWashington, therefore, could regard, and did regard, nothing \n\n1 Preserver. This was the name applied to the statue of Pallas Athene, \nthe presence of which within the walls of Troy was believed to assure the \npreservation ot the city from the attacks of the Greeks. \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON, 85 \n\nas of paramount political interest but the integrity of the Union \n\nitself. With a united government well administered, he saw that \n\n\"we had nothing to fear ; and without it, nothing to hope. The \n\nsentiment is just, and its momentous truth should solemnly \n\nimpress the whole country. If we might regard our country as \n\npersonated in the spirit of Washington ; if we might consider him \n\nas representing her in her past renown, her present prosperity, \n\nand her future career, and as, in that character, demanding of us \n\nall to account for our conduct as poHtical men or as private \n\ncitizens, — how should he answer him who has ventured to talk of \n\ndisunion and dismemberment ? Or how should he answer him \n\nwho dwells perpetually on local interests, and fans every kindUng \n\nflame of local prejudice ? How should he answer him who \n\n'V\\rould array State against State, interest against interest, and party \n\na,gainst party, careless of the continuance of that unity of govern- \n\n'^^ent which constitutes us one people ? \n\nThe political prosperity which this country has attained, and \n\"Vvhich it now enjoys, has been acquired mainly through the in- \nstnimentah'ty of the present government. While this agent con- \ntinues, the capacity of attaining to still higher degrees of pros- \nI)erity exists also. We have, while this lasts, a political life capa- \nHe of beneficial exertion, with power to resist or overcome mis- \nlortimes, to sustain us against the ordinary accidents of human \naffairs, and to promote, by active efforts, every public interest. \nBut dismemberment strikes at the very being which preserves \nthese faculties. It would lay its rude and ruthless hand on this \ngreat agent itself. It would sweep away, not only what we pos- \nsess, but all power of regaining lost, or acquiring new possessions. \nIt would leave the country not only bereft of its prosperity and \nhappiness, but without limbs, or organs, or faculties by which to \nexert itself hereafter in the pursuit of that prosperity and happiness. \nOther misfortunes may be borne, or their effects overcome. If \ndisastrous war should sweep our commerce from the ocean, an- \nother generation may renew it ; if it exhaust oiu: treasury, future \nindustry may replenish it ; if it desolate and lay waste our fields, \n\n\n\n86 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nStill, under a new cultivation, they will grow green again, and \nripen to future harvests. It were but a trifle, even if the walls of \nyonder Capitol were to crumble, if its lofty pillars should fall, \nand its gorgeous decorations be all covered by the dust of the \nvalley. All these might be rebuilt. But who shall reconstruct \nthe fabric of demolished government ? Who shall rear again \nthe well-proportioned columns of constitutional liberty ? Who \nshall frame together the skillful architecture which unites national \nsovereignty with State rights, individual security, and pubHc pros- \nperity ? No, if these columns fall, they will be raised not again. \nLike the Coliseum i and the Parthenon,^ they will be destined to \na mournful, a melancholy immortality. Bitterer tears, however, \nwill flow over them than were ever shed over the monuments of \nRoman or Grecian art ; for they will be the remnants of a more \nglorious edifice than Greece or Rome ever saw, — the edifice of \nconstitutional American liberty. \n\nBut let us hope for better things. Let us trust in that gracious \nBeing who has hitherto held oiu* country as in the hollow of his \nhand. Let us trust to the virtue and the intelligence of the \npeople, and to the efficacy of religious obligation. Let us trust \nto the influence of Washington's example. Let us hope that \nthat fear of Heaven which expels all other fear, and that regard \nto duty which transcends all other regard, may influence pubUc \nmen and private citizens, and lead our country still onward in \nher happy career. Full of these gratifying anticipations and \nhopes, let us look forward to the end of that century which is \nnow commenced. A hundred years hence, other disciples of \nWashington will celebrate his birth, with no less of sincere ad- \nmiration than we now commemorate it. When they shall meet, \nas we now meet, to do themselves and him that honor, so surely \nas they shall see the blue summits of his native mountains rise in \nthe horizon, so surely as they shall behold the river on whose \nbanks he lived, and on whose banks he rests, still flowing on to- \n\n1 The famous amphitheater at Rome, built by the Emperor Vespasian. \n^ The marble temple of Athene, on the Acropolis at Athens. \n\n\n\nTHE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 87 \n\nWards the sea, so surely may they see, as we now see, the flag of \nthe Union floating on the top of the Capitol ; and then, as now, \n\niiiay the sun in his course visit no land more free, more happy, \n\nDaore lovely, than this our own country ! \nGentlemen, I propose \n\n\"The Memory of George Washington,\" \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. \n\nA SPEECH DELIVERED ON THE 2 2D OF DECEMBER, 1 843, AT \n\nTHE PUBLIC DINNER OF THE NEW-ENGLAND SOCIETY \n\nOF NEW YORK, IN COMMEMORATION OF THE \n\nLANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. \n\n\n\nMR. PRESIDENT, I have a grateful duty to perform \nin acknowledging the kindness of the sentiment thus ex- \npressed towards me.^ And yet I must say, gentlemen, that I rise \nupon this occasion under a consciousness that I may probably \ndisappoint highly raised, too highly raised expectations. In the \nscenes of this evening, and in the scene of this day, my part is a \nhumble one. I can enter into no competition with the fresher \ngeniuses of those more eloquent gentlemen, learned and rever- \n\n1 On the 22d of December, 1843, the anniversary of the landing at Plym- \nouth was celebrated with great success by the New-England Society of New \nYork. The exercises were opened with a commemorative oration by the \nHon. Rufus Choate ; and later in the day the Society and a number of invited \nguests met at a public dinner at the Astor House. After several appropriate \ntoasts had been given and responded to, George Griswold rose, and offered a \nfew complimentary remarks concerning Daniel Webster. After referring to \nthat gentleman's public services, to his refutation of the doctrine of nullifica- \ntion, and to the wisdom of his course in connection with the treaty of Wash- \nington, Mr. Griswold gave the following toast : — \n\n'* Daniel Webster, — the gift of New England to his country, his whole \ncountry, and nothing but his country.\" \n\nWhen Mr. Webster rose to respond to this toast, he was greeted with nine \nhearty and prolonged cheers ; and when quiet had been restored, he proceeded \nto deliver this address. \n\nss \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH, 89 \n\nend, who have addressed this Society. I may perform, however, \nthe humbler, but sometimes useful, duty of contrast, by adding \nthe dark ground of the picture, which shall serve to bring out \nthe more brilliant colors. \n\nI must receive, gentlemen, the sentiment proposed by the \nworthy and distinguished citizen of New York before me, as in- \ntended to convey the idea, that as a citizen of New England, as \na son, a child, a creation^ of New England, I may be yet supposed \nto entertain, in some degree, that enlarged view of my duty as a \ncitizen of the United States and as a public man, which may, in \nsome small measure, commend me to the regard of the whole \ncountry. While I am free to confess, gentlemen, that there is \n\n• \n\nno compliment of which I am more desirous to be thought \nworthy, I will add, that a compliment of that kind could have \nproceeded from no source more agreeable to my own feelings \nthan from the gentleman who has proposed it, — an eminent \nmerchant, the member of a body of eminent merchants, known \nthroughout the world for their intelligence and enterprise. I the \nmore especially feel this, gentlemen, because, whether I view the \npresent state of things, or recur to the history of the past, I can \nin neither case be ignorant how much that profession and its \ndistinguished members, from an early day of our history, have \ncontributed to make the country what it is, and the government \nwhat it is. \n\nGentlemen, the free nature of our institutions, and the popular \nform of those governments which have come down to us from \nthe Rock of Plymouth, give scope to intelligence, to talent, en- \nterprise, and public spirit, from all classes making up the great \nbody of the community. And the country has received benefit, \nin all its history and in all its exigencies, of the most eminent and \nstriking character, from persons of the class to which my friend \nbefore me belongs. Who will ever forget that the first name \nsigned to our ever-memorable and ever-glorious Declaration of \nIndependence is the name of John Hancock, a merchant of \nBoston ? Who will ever forget, that in the most disastrous days \n\n\n\n90 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nof the Revolution, when the treasury of the country was bank- \nrupt, with unpaid navies and starving armies, it was a merchant, \n— Robert Morris of Philadelphia, — who by a noble sacrifice of \nhis own fortune, as well as by the exercise of his great finandzd \nabilities, sustained and supported the wise men of the country in \ncouncil, and the brave men of the country in the field of battle ? \nNor are there wanting more recent instances. I have the pleas- \nure to see near me, and near my friend who proposed this sen- \ntiment, the son of an eminent merchant of New England [Mr. \nGoodhue], an early member of the Senate of the United States, \nalways consulted, always respected, in whatever belonged to the \nduty and the means of putting in operation the financial and \ncommercial system of the country; and this mention of the \nfather of my friend brings to my mind the memory of his great \ncolleague, the early associate of Hamilton and of Ames, trusted \nand beloved by Washington, consulted on all occasions connected \nwith the administration of the finances, the establishment of the \ntreasury department, the imposition of the first rates of duty, and \nwith everything that belonged to the commercial system of the \nUnited States, — George CabotK)f Massachusetts. \n\nI will take this occasion to say, gentlemen, that there is no \ntruth better developed and established in the history of the United \nStates, from the formation of the Constitution to the present time, \nthan this, — that the mercantile classes, the great commercial \nmasses of the country, whose affairs connect them strongly with \nevery State in the Union and with all the nations of the earth, \nwhose business and profession give a sort of nationality to their \ncharacter, — that no class of men among us, from the beginning, \nhave shown a stronger and firmer devotion to whatsoever has \nbeen designed, or to whatever has tended, to preserve the union \nof these States and the stability of the free government under \nwhich we live. The Constitution of the United States, in regard \nto the various municipal regulations and local interests, has left \nthe States individual, disconnected, isolated. It has left them \ntheir own codes of criminal law; it has left them their own sys- \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. 91 \n\ntem of municipal regulations. But there was one great interest, \none great concern, which, from the very nature of the case, was \nno longer to be left under the regulations of the then thirteen, \nafterwards twenty, and now twenty-six States, but was com- \nmitted, necessarily committed, to the care, the protection, and \nthe regulation of one government ; and this was that great unit, \nas it has been called, the commerce of the United States. There \nis no commerce of New York, no commerce of Massachusetts, \nnone of Georgia, none of Alabama or Louisiana. All and singu- \nlar, in the aggregate and in all its parts, is the commerce of the \nUnited States, regulated at home by a uniform system of laws \nunder the authority of the general government, and protected \nabroad under the flag of our government, the glorious E Pluribus \nUnum^ and guarded, if need be, by the power of the general \ngovernment all over the world. There is, therefore, gentlemen, \nnothing more cementing, nothing that makes us more cohesive, \nnothing that more repels all tendencies to separation and dis- \nmemberment, than this great, this common, I may say this over- \nwhelming interest of one commerce, one general system of trade \nand navigation, one everj'^where and with every nation of the \nglobe. There is no flag of any particular American State seen \nin the Pacific seas, or in the Baltic, or in the Indian Ocean. Who \nknows, or who hears, there of your proud State, or of my proud \nState ? Who knows, or who heeirs, of anything, at the extremest \nnorth or south, or at the antipodes ; in the remotest regions of \nthe Eastern or Western sea, — who ever hears, or knows, of any- \nthing but an American ship, or of any American enterprise of a \ncommercial character that does not bear the impression of the \nAmerican Union with it ? \n\nIt would be a presumption of which I cannot be guilty, gentle- \nmen, for me to imagine for a moment, that, among the gifts \nwhich New England has made to our common countiy, I am \nanything more than one of the most inconsiderable. I readily \nbring to mind the great men, not only with whom I have met, \n\n1 One out of many, — the motto of the United States. \n\nJ \n\n\n\n92 DANIEL WEBSTER, \n\nbut those of the generation before me, who now sleep with their \nfathers, distinguished in the Revolution, distinguished in the \nformation of the Constitution and in the early administration of \nthe government, always and everywhere distinguished ; and I \nshrink in just and conscious humiliation before their established \ncharacter and established renown ; and all that I venture to say, \nand all that I venture to hope may be thought true in the senti- \nment proposed, is, that so far as mind and purpose, so far as \nintention and will, are concerned, I may be found among those \nwho are capable of embracing the whole country, of which they \nare members, in a proper, comprehensive, and patriotic regard. \nWe all know that the objects which are nearest are the objects \nwhich are dearest. Family affections, neighborhood aflFections, \nsocial relations ; these, in truth, are nearest and dearest to us all : \nbut whosoever shall be able rightly to adjust the graduation of \nhis affections, and to love his friends and his neighbors and his \ncountry as he ought to love them, merits the commendation pro- \nnounced by the philosophic poet upon him \n\n\" Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis.\"i \n\nGentlemen, it has been my fortune, in the httle part which I \nhave acted in public life, for good or for evil to the community, \nto be connected entirely with that government, which, within the \nlimits of constitutional power, exercises jurisdiction over all the \nStates and all the people. My friend at the end of the table, on \nmy left, has spoken pleasantly to us to-night of the reputed mira- \ncles of tutelar saints. In a sober sense, in a sense of deep con- \nviction, I say that the emergence of this country from British \ndomination, and its union, under its present form of government, \nbeneath the general Constitution of the country, if not a miracle, \nis, I do not say the most, but one of the most, fortunate, the most \nadmirable, the most auspicious, occurrences which have ever \nfallen to the lot of man. Circumstances have wrought out for \n\n1 ' ' Who has learned what he owes to his country, and what to his friends. \" \n— Horace. \n\n\n\n-. . I iii a^ at I I ^ h. . \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH, 93 \n\nUS a state of things, which, in other times and other regions, phi- \nlosophy has dreamed of, and theory has proposed, and speculation \nhas suggested, but which man has never been able to accomplish. \nI mean the government of a great nation, over a vastly extended \nportion of the surface of the earth, by means of local institutions \nfor local purposes^ and general institutions for general purposes, I \nknow of nothing in the history of the world, notwithstanding the \ngreat league of Grecian states, notwithstanding the success of the \nRoman system (and certainly there is no exception to the remark \nin modern history), — I know of nothing so suitable, on the whole, \nfor the great interests of a great people spread over a large por- \ntion of the globe, as the provision of local legislation for local \nand municipal purposes, with, not a confederacy, nor a loose \nbinding together of separate parts, but a limited, positive general \ngovernment, for positive general purposes, over the whole. We \nmay derive eminent proofs of this truth from the past and the \npresent. What see we to-day in the agitations on the other side \nof the Atlantic ? I speak of them, of course, without expressing \nany opinion on questions of politics in a foreign country ; but I \nspeak of them as an occurrence which shows the great expedi- \nency, the utility, I may say the necessity, of local legislation. \nIf, in a country on the other side of the water [Ireland], there be \nsome who desire a severance of one part of the empire from \nanother, under a proposition of repeal, there are others who pro- \npose a continuance of the existing relation under a federative \nsystem : and what is this ? No more and no less than an ap- \nproximation to that system under which we live, which for local \nmunicipal purposes shall have a local legislature, and for general \npurposes a general legislature. \n\nThis becomes the more important when we consider that the \nUnited States stretch \"over so many degrees of latitude, that \nthey embrace such a variety of climate, that various conditions \nand relations of society naturally call for different laws and regu- \nlations. Let me ask whether the Legislature of New York could \nwisely pass laws for the government of Louisiana, or whether \n\n\n\n94 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nthe Legislature of Louisiana could wisely pass laws for Pennsyl- \nvania or New York. Everybody will say, \" No.\"' And yet the \ninterests of New York and Pennsylvania and Louisiana, in what- \never concerns their relations between themselves and their gen- \neral relations with all the states of the world, are found to be per- \nfectly well provided for, and adjusted with perfect congruity, by \ncommitting these general interests to one common government, \nthe result of popular general elections among them all. \n\nI confess, gentlemen, that having been, as I have said, in my \nhumble career in public life, employed in that portion of the pub- \nhe service which is connected with the general government, I \nhave contemplated, as the great object of every proceeding, not \nonly the particular benefit of the moment, or the exigency of the \noccasion, but the preservation of this system ; for I do consider \nit so much the result of circumstances, and that so much of it is \ndue to fortunate concurrence as well as to the sagacity of the \ngreat men acting upon those occasions, that it is an experiment \nof such remarkable and renowned success, that he is a fool or \na madman who would wish to try that experiment a second time. \nI see to-day, and we all see, that the descendants of the Puritans, \nwho landed upon the Rock of Plymouth ; the followers of \nRaleigh, who settled Virginia and North Carolina ; he who lives \nwhere the truncheon of empire, so to speak, was borne by Smith ; \nthe inhabitants of Georgia ; he who settled, under the auspices of \nFrance, at the mouth of the Mississippi ; the Swede on the Dela- \nware; the Quaker of Pennsylvania, — all find at this day their \ncommon interest, their common protection, their common glory ^ \nunder the united government, which leaves them all, nevertheless, \nin the administration of their own municipal and local affairs, to \nbe Frenchmen, or Swedes, or Quakers, or whatever they choose. \nAnd when one considers that this system of government, I will \nnot say has produced, because God and nature and circum- \nstances have had an agency in it, — but when it is considered \nthat this system has not prevented, but has rather encouraged, \nthe growth ot il:ii^»mllgli^^ig^ffa^tty from three millions on \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. 95 \n\nthe glorious 4th of July, 1776, to seventeen millions now, who \nis there that will say, upon this hemisphere, nay, who is there that \nwill stand up in any hemisphere, who is there in any part of the \nworld, that will say that the great experiment of a united repub- \nlic has failed in America ? And yet I know, gentlemen, I feel, \ntliat this united system is held together by strong tendencies to \nunion, at the same time that it is kept from too much leaning to- \nwards consolidation by a strong tendency in the several States \nto support each its own power and consideration. In the physi- \ncal world it is said, that \n\n\" All nature's difference keeps all nature's peace,\" \n\nand there is in the political world this same harmonious difference, \nthis regular play of the positive and negative powers (if I may so \nsay), which, at least for one glorious half century, has kept us as \nwe have been kept, and made us what we are. \n\nBut, gentlemen, I must not allow myself to pursue this topic. \nIt is a sentiment so commonly repeated by me upon all public \noccasions, and upon all private occasions, and everywhere, that \nI forbear to dwell upon it now. It is the union of these States, \nit is the system of government under which we live, beneath the \nConstitution of the United States, happily framed, wisely adopted, \nsuccessfully administered for fifty years, — it is mainly this, I say, \nthat gives us power at home and credit abroad. And, for one, \nI never stop to consider the power, or wealth, or greatness of a \nState. I tell you, Mr. Chairman, I care nothing for your Empire \nState as such. Delaware and Rhode Island are as high in my \nregard as New York. In population, in power, in the govern- \nment over us, you have a greater share. You would have the \nsame share, if you were divided into forty States. It is not, \ntherefore, as a State sovereignty, it is only because New York \nis a vast portion of the whole American people, that I regard \nthis State, as I always shall regard her, as respectable ^ and honor \nable. But among State sovereignties there is no preference; \n\n1 See note, p. 50. \n\n\n\n96 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nthere is nothing high and nothing low ; every State is independent, \nand every State is equal. If we depart from this great principle, \nthen are. we no longer one people, but we are thrown back \nagain upon the Confederation, and upon that state of things in \nwhich the inequality of the States produced all the evils which \nbefell us in times past, and a thousand ill-adjusted and jarring \ninterests. \n\nMr. President, I wish, then, without pursuing these thoughts, \nwithout especially attempting to produce any fervid impression \nby dwelling upon them, to take this occasion to answer my friend \nwho has proposed the sentiment, and to respond to it by saying, \nthat whoever would serve his country in this our day, with what- \never degree of ' talent, great or small, it may have pleased the \nAlmighty Power to ^v^ him, he cannot serve it, he will not serve \nit, unless he be able, at least, to extend his political designs, pur- \nposes, and objects, till they shall comprehend the whole country \nof which he is a servant. \n\nSir, I must say a word in connection with that event which \nwe have assembled to commemorate. It has seemed fit to the \ndwellers in New York, New Englanders by birth or descent, to \nform this society. They have formed it for the relief of the poor \nand distressed, and for the purpose of commemorating annually \nthe great event of the settlement of the country from which they \nspring. It would be great presumption in me to go back to the \nscene of that settlement, or to attempt to exhibit it in any colors, \nafter the exhibition made to-day ; yet it is an event that in all \ntime since, and in all time to come, and more in times to come \nthan in times past, must stand out in great and striking charac- \nteristics to the admiration of the world. The sun's return to his \nwinter's solstice, in 1620, is the 'epoch from which he dates his \nfirst acquaintance with the smaU people, now one of the happiest, \nand destined to be one of the greatest, that his rays fall upon ; \nand his annual visitation, from that day to this, to our frozen \nregion, has enabled him to see that progress, progress, was the \ncharacteristic of that small people. He has seen them, from a \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH, 97 \n\nhandful that one of his beams coming through a keyhole might \nilluminate, spread over a hemisphere which he cannot enlighten \nunder the slightest eclipse. Nor, though this globe should re- \nvolve round him for tens of hundreds of thousands of years, will* \nhe see such another incipient colonization upon any part of this \nattendant upon his mighty orb. What else he may see in those \nother planets which revolve around him, we cannot tell, at least \nuntil we have tried the fifty-foot telescope which Lord Rosse is \npreparing for that purpose. \n\nThere is not, gentlemen, and we may as well admit it, in any \nhistory of the past, another epoch from which so many great \nevents have taken a turn, — events which, while important to us, \nare equally important to the country from whence we came. The \nsettlement of Plymouth — concurring, I always wish to be under- \nstood, with that of Virginia — was the settlement of New England \nby colonies of Old England. Now, gentlemen, take these two \nideas, and run out the thoughts suggested by both. What has \nbeen, and what is to be, Old England ? What has been, what \nis, and what may be, in the providence of God, New England, \nwith her neighbors and associates ? I would not dwell, gentle- \nmen, with any particular emphasis upon the sentiment, which I \nnevertheless entertain, with respect to the great diversity in the \nraces of men. I do not know how far, in that respect, I might not \nencroach on those mysteries of Providence, which, while I adore, \nI may not comprehend ; but it does seem to me to be very re- \nmarkable that we may go back to the time when New England, \nor those who founded it, were subtracted from Old England, and \nboth Old England and New England went on, nevertheless, in \ntheir mighty career of progress and power. \n\nLet me begin with New England for a moment. What has \nresulted, embracing, as I say, the nearly contemporaneous settle- \nment of Virginia, — what has resulted from the planting upon this \ncontinent of two or three slender colonies from the mother coun- \ntry ? Gentlemen, the great epitaph commemorative of the char- \nacter and the worth, the discoveries and glory, of Columbus, was, \n\n\n\n98 DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nthat he haA given a new world to the crowns of Castile and Aragon^ \nGentlemen, this is a great mistake. It does not come up at all \nto the great merits of Columbus. He gave the territory of the \nsouthern hemisphere to the crowns of Castile and Aragon ; but as \na place for the plantation of colonies, as a place for the habita- \ntion of men, as a place to which laws and religion and manners \nand science were to be transferred, as a place in which the \ncreatures of God should multiply and fill the earth, under friendly \nskies and with religious hearts, he gave it to the whole world, he \ngave it to universal man ! From this seminal principle, and from \na handful, — a hundred saints, blessed of God and ever honored \nof men, landed on the shores of Plymouth, and elsewhere along \nthe coast, imited, as I have said already more than once, in the \nprocess of time, with the settlement at Jamestown, — has sprung \nthis great people of which we are a portion. \n\nI do not reckon myself among quite the oldest of the land ; \nand yet it so happens that very recently I recurred to an exult- \ning speech or oration of my own,i in which I spoke of my coun- \ntry as consisting of nine millions of people. I could hardly per- \nsuade myself, that, within the short time which had elapsed since \nthat epoch, our population had doubled ; and that at the present \nmoment there does exist most unquestionably as great a proba- \nbility of its continued progress in the same ratio as has ever \nexisted in any previous time. I do not know whose imagination \nis fertile enough, I do not know whose conjectures, I may almost \nsay, are wild enough, to tell what may be the progress of wealth \nand population in the United States in half a century to come. \nAll we know is, here is a people of from seventeen to twenty mil- \nlions, intelligent, educated, freeholders, freemen, republicans, pos- \nsessed of all the means of modem improvement, modem science, \narts, literature, with the world before them 1 There is nothing \nto check them till they touch the shores of the Pacific,^ and then, \n\n1 Oration on the First Settlement of New England, Dec. 22, 1820. \n\n2 Five years later, gold was discovered in California, and the first great \nmovement of settlers towards the Pacific coast was begun. \n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH, 99 \n\nthey are so much accustomed to water, that thaVs a facility and \nno obstruction ! \n\nSo much, gentlemen, for this branch of the English race. But \nwhat has happened, meanwhile, to England herself, since the \nperiod of the departure of the Puritans from the coast of Lin- \ncolnshire, from the English Boston ? Gentlemen, in speaking of \nthe progress of English power, of English dominion and author- \nity, from that period to the present, I shall be understood, of \ncourse, as neither entering into any defense, or any accusation, \nof the policy which has conducted her to her present state. As \nto the justice of her wars, the necessity of her conquests, the pro- \npriety of those acts by which she has taken possession of so great \na portion of the globe, it is not the business of the present occa- \nsion to inquire. Neque teneo, neque refello} But I speak of \nthem, or intend to speak of them, as facts of the most extraordi- \nnary character, unequaled in the history of any nation on the \nglobe, and the consequences of which may and must reach \nthrough a thousand generations. The Puritans left England in \nthe reign of James I. England herself had then become some- \nwhat settled and established in the Protestant faith, and in the \nquiet enjoyment of property, by the previous energetic, long, \nand prosperous reign of Elizabeth. Her successor was James \nVI. of Scotland, now become James I. of England; and here \nwas a union of the crowns, but not of the kingdoms, — a very \nimportant distinction. Ireland was held by a military power; \nand one cannot but see that at that day, whatever may be \ntrue or untrue in more recent periods of her history, Ireland \nwas held by England by the two great potencies, — the power of \nthe sword and the power of confiscation. In other respects, \nEngland was nothing like the England which we now behold. \nHer foreign possessions were quite inconsiderable. She had some \nhold on the West India Islands ; she had Acadia, or Nova Scotia, \nwhich King James granted, by wholesale, for the endowment of \nthe knights whom he created by hundreds. And what has been \n\n1 I neither support nor confute. \n\n\n\nlOO DANIEL WEBSTER. \n\nher progress ? Did she then possess Gibraltar, the key to the \nMediterranean ? Did she possess a port in the Mediterranean ? \nWas Malta hers ? Were the Ionian Islands hers ? Was the \nsouthern extremity of Africa, was the Cape of Good Hope hers ? \nWere the whole of her vast possessions in India hers ? Was her \ngreat Australian empire hers ? While that branch of her popula- \ntion which followed the western star, and under its guidance \ncommitted itself to the duty of settling, fertilizing, and peopling \nan unknown wilderness in the West, were pursuing their destinies, \nother causes, providential doubtless, were leading English power \neastward and southward, in consequence and by means of her \nnaval prowess and the extent of her commerce, until in our day \nwe have seen that within the Mediterranean, on the western coast \nand at the southern extremity of Africa, in Arabia, in hither \nIndia and farther India, she has a population ten times as great \nas that of the British Isles two centuries ago. And recently, as \nwe have witnessed, — I will not say with how much truth and \njustice, policy or impolicy ; I do not speak at all to the morality \nof the action, I only speak to the_^^/, — she has found admission \ninto China, and has carried the Christian religion and the Prot- \nestant faith to the doors of three hundred millions of people.^ \n\nIt has been said that whosoever would see the Eastern world \nbefore it turns into a Western world, must make his visit soon, \nbecause steamboats and omnibuses, commerce, and all the arts of \nEurope, are extending themselves from Egypt to Suez, from Suez \nto the Indian seas, and from the Indian seas all over the explored \nregions of the still farther East. \n\nNow, gentlemen, I do not know what practical views, or what \npractical results, may take place from this great expansion of the \npower of the two branches of Old England. It is not for me to \nsay. I only can see, that on this continent all is to be Anglo- \nAmerican^ from Plymouth Rock to the Pacific seas, from the \n\n1 The war between China and Great Britain, known as the \" opium war,\" \nwhich began in 1834, was ended by the treaty of Aug. 26, 1842. By the \nconditions of tbh frnatTi Hgmgjlgma wmg ceded to the British. \n\n\n\n\nTHE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. loi \n\nnorth pole to California. ^ That is certain ; and in the Eastern \nworld I only see that you can hardly place a finger on a map of \nthe world, and be an inch from an English settlement. \n\nGentlemen, if there be anything in the supremacy of races, the \nexperiment now in progress will develop it. If there be any truth \nin the idea that those who issued from the great Caucasian foun- \ntain, and spread over Europe, are to react on India and on Asia, \nand to act on the whole Western world, it may not be for us, nor \nour children, nor our grandchildren, to see it, but it will be for \nour descendants of some generation to see the extent of that \nprogress and dominion of the favored races. \n\nFor myself, I beheve there is no limit fit to be assigned to it \nby the human mind, because I find at work everywhere, on both \nsides of the Atlantic, under various forms and degrees of restric- \ntion on the one hand, and under various degrees of motive and \nstimulus on the other hand, in these branches of a common race, \nthe great principle of the freedom of human thought and the re- \nspec tain a fy of individual character, I find everywhere an eleva- \ntion of the character of man as man, an elevation of the individual \nas a component part of society. I find everywhere a rebuke of \nthe idea that the many are made for the few, or that govern- \nment is anything but an agency for mankind. And I care not \nbeneath what zone, frozen, temperate, or torrid ; I care not of \nwhat complexion, white or brown ; I care not under what cir- \ncumstances of climate or cultivation, — if I can find a race of \nmen on an inhabitable spot of earth whose general sentiment it \nis, and whose general feeling it is, that government is made for \nman, — man as a religious, moral, and social being, — and not \nman for government, there I know that I shall find prosperity and \nhappiness. \n\n1 It is well to remember, that, when these words were spoken, California \nwas a province of Mexico, inhabited only by Indians and a few people of \nSpanish descent. \n\n\n\n\\ \n\n\n\nn \n\n\n\nTHE BORROWER WILL BE CHARGED \nAN OVERDUE FEE IF THIS BOOK IS \nNOT RETURNED TO THE LIBRARY ON \nOR BEFORE THE LAST DATE STAMPED \nBELOW. NON-RECEIPT OF OVERDUE \nNOTICES DOES NOT EXEMPT THE \nBORROWER FROM OVERDUE FEES. \n\nHarvard College WIdener Library \nCambridge, MA02138 (617)495-2413 \n\n\n\n\nEclectic Eoglish Classics \n\nAB AND RUSTttM \n\n\n\ntsCUTTS WOODSTOCK. \n\nSHAKESt'EARUS JUI.IUS C + .v \n\nSHAKESPEARB5 TWfiU 1 1 \nI.SHAK6Sl*EARR-5 MFR':h-' \n\nfclMKESPEARE'S . \n\n(lit RocsH nr \n\nWEBSTER'S BUN _ . \n\nAMERfCAW R<>^>K COMPAKV \n\n\n\n","title":"The orations on Bunker Hill monument : the character of Washington and the landing at Plymouth","updated_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:45.711081Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-orations-on-bunker-hill-monument-the-character-of-washington-and-the-landing-at-plymouth","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item orationsonbunke01websgoog","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T10:00:46.007278Z","version":1}]}