forever, one and inseparable," will ever remain to quicken the patriotic pulse of the nation, and his life, as statesman, orator, and patriot, will ever stand forth an example of colossal genius, devoted to the honor of country and to the good of mankind.

Mr. Webster was again made Secretary of State, by President Fillmore, on the death of President Taylor in 1850. His last noble effort, on laying the corner stone of the new wing of the Capitol at Washington, was worthy of his fame. The main object of his public life was "to confirm and maintain the great work of the constitutional fathers of the last generation."

He died in 1852, at Marshfield, Massachusetts, on the estate which reminded him of the early years in which he tilled the ancestral acres, and his last words, "I still live," as they vibrate down the ages, will suggest the imperishable influence for good, in his public speeches and acts, which is his legacy to the world.

II.

The conditions, which made the first speech of Webster at Bunker Hill especially memorable, will now be considered.

"The first monument ever erected to commemorate the Battle of Bunker Hill, was the monument specially erected to the memory of General Warren and those who fell at Bunker Hill." (This has sometimes been mistaken for the Beacon Hill monument in Boston.) It " was erected

by King Solomon's Lodge of Freemasons, of Charlestown, completed and dedicated in 1794. This monument stood on the westerly side of the present monument, and remained until 1825." (Proceedings of Bunker Hill Monument Association, June 17, 1889.)

But as the half-century from the date of the battle drew to its close, a strong feeling for a better memorial of that first contest in the Revolutionary War began to be awakened.

The society called the Bunker Hill Monument Association had been formed, and exists to this day. Funds were collected for the erection of a monument, and Daniel Webster, the president of the Association, was chosen to deliver the oration at the laying of the corner stone. General Lafayette was invited to be present on the occasion.

It was an event towards which the nation looked forward with pride and high anticipation. Much was expected from the foremost orator of the land, who would utter befitting words in the presence of the noble foreign. guest, whose service and that of his native France had been so helpful to the colonies in their day of peril.

Everything past and present concurred in making this. an occasion on which the orator might feel the profoundest emotion, and be moved by the loftiest inspiration. The subject itself, the first battle for independence, might well call forth all his descriptive powers. The surviving veterans of the war would give an opportunity for pathetic

reminiscences and deserved eulogy. The progress of the Republic in the half-century afforded a theme for the eloquence of thankfulness; the memory of Warren was still fresh in the minds and hearts of his countrymen; the stability and value of popular government had been subjected to various tests, which had strengthened the national integrity.

Europe had emerged from contests which, in many respects, had improved the condition of the people, and for a brief period nearly the whole civilized world was at peace. The Spanish colonies of South America had begun their national existence as independent states; under rapidly increasing knowledge, the people everywhere were thinking and reasoning about affairs of state. The United States, then consisting of twenty-four commonwealths, looked forward to the development of vast material resources and to a career of unexampled prosperity. "Wisdom, Peace, and Liberty" were invoked, to lead the land in its onward march towards a commanding position of influence and power among the proudest nations of the earth.

Again, the celebration itself and all the attendant circumstances were such as contributed in no slight degree to the orator's success. The assembled multitudes were ready to be moved by his words, and to applaud his patriotic sentiments. The air was cool, the sky clear, and nature was bright with her loveliest hues. Nothing in New England's history had equaled the magnificence. of the military display, the Masonic orders in their splen

did regalia, and the long array of societies, with music, banners, and badges.

Above the orator was the blue dome of the heavens; at his feet, the soil which patriot blood had consecrated in the shock of battle. What more fortunate conditions can be conceived, for lifting the speaker to the highest fervor of eloquence? It was as if all influences of earth and sky, of man and nature, had conspired with the eager desire of patriotic citizens, to quicken the soul of Webster, and to furnish him with every aid by which the creative force of his genius might rise to altitudes never known before.

Not, as on the occasion of his second oration, at the completion of the Bunker Hill Monument, did the eye climb upward, along the broad sides of the towering granite shaft, to behold its massive capstone midway between the heavens and the earth; but, at least, the orator's downward glance might behold the beginning of that stately structure, in the corner stone at his feet, while his imagination, kindling at the sight, could easily build the column and weave about it the glories of the day it would commemorate.

He also had before him, at the time of this first oration, a large number of the survivors of the war, and was stimulated by the need of arousing popular enthusiasm in the project of erecting the costly structure which the Association had in hand, and which was dear to his own heart as president of that Association. This project of erecting the monument by voluntary subscriptions from the people

must not be forgotten in the analysis of the oration which will be made further on. It was present to Webster's mind during the preparation of his oration, as well as in the ardor of its delivery.

If much was expected of the orator, much more did he give. Over-modest concerning his own powers at that early date in his career, he had asked a friend to listen beforehand to a draft of the speech which he had written. But when that speech, with the speaker's impressive personality and eloquent delivery added to it, was given to the vast throngs that hung upon his lips, the best judges pronounced it perfect; and it remains as it was written, enduring as the monument, which owes, in some measure at least, its completion to the words which were spoken on that day.

We come now to a consideration of the rhetorical and elocutionary elements which make this first oration at Bunker Hill a masterpiece of oratory.

It is important that the youth, and especially the young men of America, in whose hands this speech is now placed for their study, should know the oratorical principles which guided the speaker, and which enabled him to make it a perfect work of art. Spontaneous utterances, sometimes called "extemporary speaking," are generally failures, unless (as one has said) "there is a steady, intellectual growth, culminating, by severe logical process, in grand, consistent, and permanent excellence, the