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ish are withdrawing their forces. For then, and for now, and for all time, come the words of the anthem—

“O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.”

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conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto, ‘In God is our trust';
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”

The Star-Spangled Banner! Was ever flag so beautiful, did ever flag so fill the souls of men? The love of woman; the sense of duty; the thirst for glory; the heartthrobbing that impels the humblest American to stand by his colors fearless in the defense of his native soil and holding it sweet to die for it—the yearning which draws him to it when exiled from it—its free institutions and its blessed memories, all are embodied and symbolized by the broad stripes and bright stars of the nation's emblem, all live again in the lines and tones of Key's anthem. Two or three began the song, millions join the chorus. They are singing it in Porto Rican trenches and on the ramparts of Santiago, and its echoes, borne upon the wings of morning, come rolling back from far-away Manila; the soldier's message to the soldier; the hero's shibboleth in battle; the patriot's solace in death ! Even to the lazy sons of peace who lag at home—the pleasure-seekers whose merry-making turns the night into day—those stirring strains come as a sudden trumpet-call, and above the sounds of revelry, subjugate for the moment to a stronger power, rises wave upon wave of melodious resonance, the idler's aimless but heartfelt tribute to his country and his country's flag.

Since the “Star-Spangled Banner” was written nearly a century has come and gone. The drums, and tramplings of more than half its years have passed over the grave of Francis Scott Key. Here at last he rests forever. Here at last his tomb is fitly made. When his eyes closed upon the scenes of this life their last gaze beheld the ensign

of the Republic “full-high advanced, its arms and trophies
streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or
polluted nor a single star obscured.” If happily they were
spared the spectacle of a severed Union, and “a land rent
by civil feud and drenched in fraternal blood,” it may be
that somewhere beyond the stars his gentle spirit now
looks down upon a Nation awakened from its sleep of
death and restored to its greater and its better self, and
known and honored, as never before throughout the
world. Whilst Key lived there was but a single para-
mount issue, about which all other issues circled, the Con-
stitution and the Union. The problems of the Constitu-
tion and the Union solved, the past secure, turn we to the
future; no longer a huddle of petty sovereignties, held to-
gether by a rope of sand; no longer a body of mercenary
shopkeepers worshiping rather the brand upon the dollar
than the eagle on the shield; no longer a brood of provin-
cial laggards, hanging with bated breath upon the move-
ments of mankind, afraid to trust themselves away from
home, or to put their principles to the test of progress
and of arms; but a Nation, and a leader of nations; a world
power which durst face Imperialism upon its own ground
with Republicanism, and with it dispute the future of Civi-
lization. It is the will of God; let not man gainsay. Let
not man gainsay until the word of God has been carried
to the furthermost ends of the earth; not until freedom
is the heritage of all His creatures; not until the blessings
which he has given us are shared by His people in all
lands; not until Latin licentiousness fostered by modern
wealth and culture and art, has been expiated by fire, and
Latin corruption and cruelty have disappeared from the
government of men; not until that sober-suited Anglo-
Saxonism, which, born at Runnymede, was to end neither
at Yorktown nor at Appomattox, has made, at one and
the same time, another map of Christendom and a new
race of Christians and yeomen, equally soldiers of the
Sword and of the Cross, even in Africa and in Asia, as we
have made them here in America. Thus, and thus alone,
and wherever the winds of heaven blow, shall fly the spirit
if not the actuality of the blessed symbol we have come
here this day to glorify; ashamed of nothing that God has .
sent, ready for everything that God may send! It was

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not a singer of the fireside, but a heartless wanderer, who put in all hearts the Anglo-Saxon's simple “Home, Sweet Home.” It was a poet, not a warrior, who gave to our Union the Anglo-American's homage to his flag. Even as the Prince of Peace who came to bring eternal life was the Son of God, were these His ministering angels; and, as each of us, upon his knees, sends up a prayer to Heaven for “Home, Sweet Home,” may he also murmur, and teach his children to lisp, the sublime refrain of Key's immortal anthem—

“'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner, O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”

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[Oration by Daniel Webster, statesman and orator (born in Salisbury, N. H., January 18, 1782; died in Marshfield, Mass., October 24, 1852), delivered in Fryeburg, Maine, July 4, 1802, when Webster was but twenty years of age, and at the time principal of the Fryeburg Academy. This oration is referred to in Webster's Autobiography as unpublished, and so it remained till eighty years after its delivery, when the original manuscript was found, with a mass of Webster's private papers, in a junk-shop in Boston, and rescued from destruction. Passing then into appreciative hands, it was issued in pamphlet form in 1882, the centennial year of Webster's birth. The impression created by this early effort of the orator upon the minds of the townspeople who heard it, was deep and lasting, and it has been said that its sentiments were remembered and repeated by some of them after a lapse of more than fifty years. An interesting fact is seen in the strikingly similar peroration to the last speech made by Webster in the Senate of the United States on July 17, 1850.]

FELLOW CITIZENS:—It is at the season when nature hath assumed her loveliest apparel that the American people assemble in their several temples to celebrate the birthday of their nation. Arrayed in all the beauties of the year, the Fourth of July once more visits us. Green fields and a ripening harvest proclaim it, a bright sun cheers it, and the hearts of freemen bid it welcome. Illustrious spectacle! Six millions of people this day surround their altars, and unite in an address to Heaven for the preservation of their rights. Every rank and every age imbibes the general spirit. | From the lisping inhabitant of the cradle to the aged warrior whose gray hairs are fast sinking in the western horizon of life, every voice is,

Copyright, by C. W. Lewis. Published by permission. 1152

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My Country!
Festivals established by the world have been numerous.
The coronation of a king, the birth of a prince, the mar-
riage of a princess, have often called wondering crowds
together. Cities and nations agree to celebrate the event
which raises one mortal man above their heads, and
beings called men stand astonished and aghast while the
pageantry of a monarch or the jeweled grandeur of a
queen poses before them. Such a festival, however, as
the Fourth of July is to America, is not found in history;
—a festival designed for solemn reflection on the great
events that have happened to us; a festival in which free-
dom receives a nation's homage, and Heaven is greeted
with incense from ten thousand hearts.
In the present situation of our country, it is, my re-
spected fellow citizens, matter of high joy and congratula-
tion that there is one day in the year on which men of
different principles and different opinions can associate
together. The Fourth of July is not an occasion to com-
pass sea and land to make proselytes. The good sense
and the good nature which yet remain among us will, we
trust, prevail on this day, and be sufficient to chain, at
least for a season, that untamed monster, Party Spirit—
and would to God that it might be chained forever, that,
as we have but one interest, we might have but one heart
and one mind!
You have hitherto, fellow citizens, on occasions of this
kind, been entertained with the discussion of national ques-
tions; with inquiries into the true principles of govern-
ment; with recapitulations of the War; with speculations
on the causes of our Revolution, and on its consequences
to ourselves and to the world. !' these subjects,
it shall be the ambition of the speaker of this day to pre-

this day, : to the accents of Liberty! Washington |


sent such a view of your Constitution and your Union, 2. . . . .

as shall convince you that you have nothing to hope from U.

a change. )
This age has been correctly denominated an age of

experiments. Innovation is the idol of the times. The

human mind seems to have burst its ancient limits, and to

be traveling over the face of the material and intellectual

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creation in search of improvement. (The world hath be- .

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