be ever present to the eye of the people. By our willing sym. pathy with their efforts we make their glory our own; by contemplating their actions with love we renew in our own breasts the just courage with which they glowed, and gain the ennobling consciousness that we too have the power within us to imitate their example.

The inhabitants of this Commonwealth are allied, by their descent of common blood, with nearly all the older United States and all the most highly civilized countries of the world. The homes of their ancestors are to be found in the Old Dominion and all the States to the north of it, in the British Isles and Ireland, in the Iberian peninsula, in France, in Italy, and in all the Continental states, especially of Germany, so that in addition to the mysterious affinity of human nature with truth and freedom, no word can be uttered in any part of the civilized world, but you may claim in it, a family interest of your own. Citizens of Cleveland, cheered by the patriotic zeal of an artist, a native of the State, have raised the monument now dedicated to the Union, in the name of the people of Ohio.

Ohio, a Commonwealth younger in years than he who now addresses you, not long ago having no visible existence but in the emigrant wagons, now numbers almost as large a population as that of all England when it gave birth to Raleigh and Bacon and Shakespeare, and began its work of colonizing America. In the very heart of the temperate zone of this continent, in the land of corn, of wheat and the vine, the eldest daughter of the Ordinance of 1787, already the mother of other Commonwealths that bid fair to vie with her in beauty, rises in her loveliness and glory, crowned with cities, and challenges the admiration of the world.

This anniversary of the great action of Oliver Hazard Perry is set apart for inaugurating a monument to his fame. Fortyseven years ago, the young hero, still weak from a wasting fever, led his squadron to battle. Ever in advance, almost alone, for two hours fighting his ship, till it became a wreck, with more than four-fifths of his crew around him wounded or killed, he passed in a boat to the uninjured Niagara, unfurled his flag, bore down within pistol-shot of his enemy, poured into them broadsides starboard, and broadsides port, and while the sun was still high

above the horizon, left no office to be done but that of mercy to the vanquished.

Nor may you omit due honors to the unrecorded dead; not as mourners who require consolation, but with a clear conception of the glory of their end. To die, if need be, in defence of country is a common obligation; it is granted to few to exchange life for a victory so full of benefits to their fellow-men. These are the disinterested unnamed martyrs, who, without hope of fame or gain, gave up their lives in testimony to the all-pervading love of country, and left to our statesmen the lesson, to demand of others nothing but what is right, and to submit to no wrong. "We have met the enemy," were the words of Perry, as he reported the battle, "and they are ours." The men who honor the memory of Perry will always know how to defend the domain of their country.

So, then, our last words shall be for the Union. The Union will guard the fame of its defenders, will keep alive for mankind the beacon-lights of popular liberty and power; and its mighty heart will throb with delight at every true advance in any part of the world towards republican happiness and freedom.

GEORGE BANCROFT.

THE SARATOGA MONUMENT BEGUN.

(From Address delivered October 18, 1877.)

ONE hundred years ago, on this spot, American independence was made a great fact in the history of nations. Until the surrender of the British army under Burgoyne, the Declaration of Independence was but a declaration. It was a patriotic purpose asserted in bold words by brave men, who pledged for its maintenance their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. But here it was made a fact, by virtue of armed force. It had been regarded by the world merely as an act of defiance, but it was now seen that it contained the germs of a government which the event we celebrate made one of the powers of the earth. Here rebellion was made revolution. Upon this ground, that which had in the eye of the law been treason, became

triumphant patriotism. At the break of day, in the judgment of the world, our fathers were rebels. When the echoes of the evening gun died away along this valley, they were patriots who had rescued their country from wrong and outrage. We had passed through the baptism of blood, and gained a name among

the nations of the earth.

Before the Revolution the people of the several colonies held but little intercourse. They were estranged from each other by distance, by sectional prejudices, by differences of lineage and religious creeds. But when the men of Virginia went to Massachusetts to rescue Boston, when the men of the East and South battled side by side with those from the Middle States, when Greene and Lincoln went to the relief of the Southern colonies, all prejudices not only died away, but more than fraternal love animated every patriotic heart from the bleak forests of New England to the milder airs of Georgia. And now that a hundred years have passed, and our country has become great beyond the wildest dreams of our fathers, will not the story of their sufferings revive in the breast of all the love of our country, of our common country, and all who live within its boundaries?

It was the most remarkable fact of the Revolutionary war and of the formation of State and national governments, that although the colonists were of different lineages and languages, living under different climates, with varied pursuits and forms of labor, cut off from intercourse by distance, yet, in spite of all these obstacles to accord, they were from the outset animated by common views, feelings, and purposes. When the independence was gained, they were able, after a few weeks spent in consultation, to form the constitution under which we have lived for nearly one hundred years. There can be no stronger proof that American institutions were born and shaped by American necessities. This fact should give us new faith in the lasting nature of our government.

Monuments make as well as mark the civilization of a people. The surrender of Burgoyne marks the dividing line between two conditions of our country: the one the colonial period of dependence, and the other the day from which it stood full-armed and victorious here, endowed with a boldness to assert its independence, and endowed with a wisdom to frame its own system

of government. We are told that during more than twenty centuries of war and bloodshed, only fifteen battles have been decisive of lasting results. The contest of Saratoga is one of them. Shall not some suitable structure recall this fact to the public mind? Neither France, nor Britain, nor Germany could spare the statues or works of art which keep alive the memory of patriotic services or of personal virtues. Such silent teachers of all that ennobles men, have taught their lessons through the darkest ages, and have done much to save society from sinking into utter decay and degradation. If Greece or Rome had left no memorials of private virtues or public greatness, the progress of civilization would have been slow and feeble. If their crumbling remains should be swept away, the world would mourn the loss, not only to learning and arts, but to virtue and patriotism. It concerns the honor and welfare of the American people that this spot should be marked by some structure which should recall its history and animate all, who look upon it, by its grand teachings. No people ever held lasting power or greatness who lid not reverence the virtues of their fathers, or who did not show forth this reverence by material and striking testimonials. Let us, then, build here, a lasting monument, which shall tell of our gratitude to those who, through suffering and sacrifice, wrought out the independence of our country.

HORATIO SEYMOUR.

THE SARATOGA LESSON.

(From Address delivered October 17, 1877.)

THE drama of the Revolution opened in New England, culminated in New York, and closed in Virginia. It was a happy fortune that the three colonies which represented the various territorial sections of the settled continent were each, in turn, the chief seat of war. The common sacrifice, the common struggle, the common triumph, tended to weld them locally, politically, and morally together. Doubtless there were conflicts of provin cial pride and jealousy and suspicion. In every great crisis of

the war, however, there was a common impulse and devotion, and the welfare of the continent obliterated provincial lines.

It is by the few heaven-piercing peaks, not by the confused mass of upland, that we measure the height of the Andes, of the Alps, of the Himalaya. It is by Joseph Warren not by Benjamin Church, by John Jay not by Sir John Johnson, by George Washington not by Benedict Arnold, that we test the quality of the Revolutionary character. The voice of Patrick Henry from the mountains answered that of James Otis by the sea. Paul Revere's lantern shone along through the valley of the Hudson, and flashed along the cliffs of the Blue Ridge. The scattering volley of Lexington green swelled to the triumphant thunder of Saratoga, and the reverberation of Burgoyne's falling arms in New York shook those of Cornwallis in Virginia from his hands. Doubts, jealousies, prejudices, were merged in one common devotion. The union of the colonies to secure liberty, foretold the union of the States to maintain it, and ' wherever we stand on Revolutionary fields, or inhale the sweetness of Revolutionary memories, we tread the ground and breathe the air of invincible national union.

So, upon this famous and decisive field, let every unworthy feeling perish! Here, to the England that we fought, let us now, grown great and strong with a hundred years, hold out the hand of fellowship and peace! Here, where the English Burgoyne, in the very moment of his bitter humiliation, generously pledged George Washington, let us, in our high hour of triumph, of power, and of hope, pledge the queen! Here, in the grave of brave and unknown foemen, may mutual jealousies and doubts and animosities lie buried forever! Henceforth, revering their common glorious traditions, may England and America press forward side by side, in noble and inspiring rivalry to promote the welfare of man!

Fellow-citizens, with the story of Burgoyne's surrender, the Revolutionary glory of the State of New York, still fresh in our memories, I am glad that the hallowed spot on which we stand compels us to remember not only the imperial State, but the national Commonwealth, whose young hands here together struck the blow, and on whose older head descends the ample benediction of the victory. On yonder height, a hundred years