evidence of land power. A maritime flag is evidence of maritime power. You may have a piece of bunting upon a staff, and call it a flag, but if you have no maritime power to maintain it, you have a name and no reality; you have the shadow without the substance; you have the sign of a flag, but in truth you have no flag.

Mr. Speaker, can any one contemplate the exigency which at this day depresses our country, and for one moment deem it exceptional? The degree of such commercial exigencies may vary, but they must always exist. It is absurd to suppose that such a population as is that of the Atlantic States can be either driven or decoyed from the ocean. It is just as absurd to imagine that wealth will not invite cupidity, and that weakness will not insure both insult and plunder. The circumstances of our age make this truth signally impressive. Who does not see in the conduct of Europe a general departure from those common principles which once constituted national morality? What is safe which power can seize or ingenuity can circumvent? or what truths more palpable than these: that there is no safety for national rights but in the national arm, and that important interests systematically pursued must be systematically protected?

Touching that branch of interest which is most precious to commercial men, it is impossible that there can be any mistake. For, however dear the interests of property or of life exposed upon the ocean may be to their owners or their friends, yet the safety of our altars and of our firesides, of our cities and of our sea-board, must, from the nature of things, be entwined with the affections by ties incomparably more strong and tender. And it happens that both national pride and honor are peculiarly identified with the support of these primary objects of commercial interest.

"It is in this view, I state, that the first and most important object of the nation ought to be such a naval force as shall give such a degree of national security as the nature of the subject admits to our cities and seaboard, and coasting trade; that the system of maritime protection ought to rest on this basis; and that it should not attempt to go further until these objects are secured. And I have no hesitation to declare that, until such a maritime force be systematically maintained by this nation, it shamefully neglects its most important duties and most critical interests.

But, it is inquired, What effect will this policy have upon the present exigency? I answer, the happiest in every respect. To exhibit a definitive intent to maintain maritime rights by maritime means, what is it but to develop new stamina of national character? No nation can have or has a right to hope for respect from others which does not

first learn to respect itself. And how is this to be attained? By a course of conduct conformable to its duties, and relative to its condition. If it abandons what it ought to defend, if it flies from the field it is bound to maintain, how can it hope for honor? To what other inheritance is it entitled but disgrace? Foreign nations undoubtedly look upon this Union with eyes long read in the history of man, and with thoughts deeply versed in the effects of passion and interest upon independent states, associated by ties so apparently slight and novel. They understand well that the rivalries among the great interests of such states-the natural envyings which in all countries spring up between agriculture, commerce, and manufactures-the inevitable jealousies and fears of each other of South and North, interior and seaboard; the incipient or progressive rancor of party animosity-are the essential weaknesses of sovereignties thus combined. Whether these causes shall operate, or whether they shall cease, foreign nations will gather from the features of our policy. They cannot believe that such a nation is strong in the affections of its associated parts when they see the vital interests of whole states abandoned. But reverse this policy; show a definitive and stable intent to yield the natural protection to such essential interests; then they will respect you. And to powerful nations honor comes attended by safety.

Mr. Speaker, what is national disgrace? Of what stuff is it composed? Is a nation disgraced because its flag is insulted-because its seamer are impressed-because its course upon the highway of the ocean is obstructed? No, sir. Abstractly considered, all this is not disgrace. Because all this may happen to a nation so weak as not to be able to maintain the dignity of its flag, or the freedom of its citizens, or the safety of its course. Natural weakness is never disgrace. But, sir, this is disgrace: when we submit to insult and to injury which we have the power to prevent or redress. Its essential constituents are want of sense or want of spirit. When a nation with ample means for its defence is so thick in the brain as not to put them into a suitable state of preparation; or when, with sufficient muscular force, it is so tame in spirit as to seek safety, not in manly effort, but in retirement, then a nation is disgraced; then it shrinks from its high and sovereign character into that of the tribe of Issachar, crouching down between two burdens-the French burden on the one side and the British on the other-so dull, so lifeless, so stupid that, were it not for its braying, it could not be distinguished from the clod of the valley.

The general effect of the policy I advocate is to produce confidence at home, and respect abroad. These are twin shoots from the same stock, and never fail to flourish or fade together. Confidence is a plant of no mushroom growth and of no artificial texture. It springs only from sage counsels and generous endeavors. The protection you ex

tend must be efficient, and suited to the nature of the object you profess to maintain. If it be neither adequate nor appropriate, your wisdom will be doubted, your motives will be distrusted, and in vain you will expect confidence. The inhabitants of the seaboard will inquire of their own senses, and not of your logic, concerning the reality of their protection.

As to respect abroad, what course can be more certain to insure it ! What object more honorable, what more dignified, than to behold a great nation pursuing wise ends by appropriate means,-rising to adopt a series of systematic exertions suited to her power, and adequate to her purposes? What object more consolatory to the friends, what more paralyzing to the enemies, of our Union, than to behold the natural jealousies and rivalries which are the acknowledged dangers of our political condition subsiding or sacrificing? What sight more exhilarating than to see this great nation once more walking forth among the nations of the earth under the protection. of no foreign shield? Peaceful, because powerful. Powerful, because united in interests and amalgamated by concentration of those interests in the national affections.

But let the opposite policy prevail; let the essential interests of the great component parts of this Union find no protection under the national arm; instead of safety let them realize oppression,-and the seeds of discord and dissolution are inevitably sown in a soil the best fitted for their root, and affording the richest nourishment for their expansion. It may be a long time before they ripen. But sooner or later they will assuredly burst forth in all their destructive energies. In the intermediate period, what aspect does a union thus destitute of cement present? Is it that of a nation keen to discern, and strong to resist, violations of its sovereignty? It has rather the appearance of a casual collection of semi-barbarous clans, with the forms of civilization and the rude and rending passions of the savage state. In truth, powerful, yet, as to any foreign affect, imbecile. Rich in the goods of fortune, yet wanting that inherent spirit without which a nation is poor indeed; their strength exhausted by struggles for local power; their moral sense debased by low intrigues for personal popularity or temporary pre-eminence; all their thoughts turned, not to the safety of the State, but to the elevation of a chieftain. A people presenting such an aspect, what have they to expect abroad? What but pillage, insult, and scorn?

The choice is before us. Persist in refusing efficient maritime protection; persist in the system of commercial restrictions; what now is perhaps anticipation will hereafter be history.

LAYING THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER HILL

MONUMENT.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

Charlestown, June 17, 1825.

This uncounted multitude before me, and around me, proves the feeling which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and, from the impulses of a common gratitude, turned reverently to heaven, in this spacious temple of the firmament, proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling, have made a deep impression on our hearts.

If, indeed, there be any thing in local association fit to affect the mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We are on ground distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor to draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had never been conceived, if we ourselves had never been born, the 17th of June, 1775, would have been a day on which all subsequent history would have poured its light, and the eminence where we stand, a point of attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we are Americans. We live in what may be called the early age of this great continent; and we know that our posterity, through all time, are here to suffer and enjoy the allotments of humanity. We see before us a probable train of great events; we know that our own fortunes have been happily cast; and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contemplation of occurrences which have guided our destiny before many of us were born, and settled the condition in which we should pass that portion of our existence, which God allows to men on earth.

We do not read even of the discovery of this continent without feeling something of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded how much it has affected our own fortunes, and our own existence. It is more impossible for us, therefore, than for others, to contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say, that most touching and pathetic, scene, when the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping-tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the stronger billows of alternate hope and despair tossing his own troubled thoughts-extending forward his harassed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last granted him a moment of rapture and ecstacy, in blessing his vision with the sight of the unknown world.

Nearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, and therefore still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the settlement of our own country by colonists from England. We cherish every memorial of these worthy ancestors; we celebrate their patience and fortitude; we admire their daring enterprise; we teach our children to venerate their piety; and we are justly proud of being descended from men who have set the world an example of founding civil institutions on the great and united principles of human freedom and human knowledge. To us, their children, the story of their labors and sufferings can never be without its interest. We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it; nor will our brethren in another early and ancient colony, forger the place of its first establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it. No vigor of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infancy was cradled and defended.

But the great event in the history of the continent, which we are now met here to commemorate,—that prodigy of modern times, at once the wonder and the blessing of the world,-is the American revolution. In a day of extraordinary prosperity and happiness, of high national honor, distinction and power, we are brought together, in this place, by our love of country, by our admiration of exalted character, by our gratitude for signal services and patriotic devotion.

The society, whose organ I am, was formed for the purpose of rearing some honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends of American independence. They have thought that, for this subject, no time could be more propitious than the present prosperous and peaceful period; that no place could claim preference over this memorable spot; and that no day could be more auspicious to the undertaking, than the anniversary of the battle which was here fought. The foundation of that monument we have now laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with prayers to Almighty God for his blessing; and in the midst of this cloud of witnesses, we have begun the work. We trust it will be prosecuted, and that, springing from a broad foundation, rising high in massive solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may remain, as long as Heaven permits the work of man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events in memory of which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who have reared it.

We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself with making known to all future times. We know, that no inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth itself, can carry information of the