tSr>:a.\m- i^.—>.. 



^I)e JTarmcr's jttontlihj lUgitor. 



87 



favor of tlie public These liopes Imve not liceii 

 disap|ioiiited. Donations have heen inarlc Ijy in- 

 ilividunls, in some cases of large amount, and 

 smaller i^imisoontriliuled by thousands. All who 

 regard the object itself as important, and its ac- 

 complisilitiienl, therefore, as u good altained, will 

 entertain sincere respect and gratitnde for the 

 unwearied efforts of the successive Presid'-nis, 

 Boards of Dijectors, and committees of the As- 

 sociation, which has had the general control of 

 the work. The Architect, equally entitled to our 

 thanks and commendation, will find other le- 

 vvard, also, for Ins labor and skill, in the beauty 

 and elegance of tiic obelisk itself an<l the dis- 

 tiuctioa which as a work of art it confers on 

 him. 



At n period when the prospects of further 

 progress in the undertaking were gloomy and 

 discouraging, the Mechanic Association, by a 

 most praiseworthy and viirorous effort, raised 

 nesv funds for carrying it forward, and saw them 

 applied with fidelity, economy and skill. It is a 

 srateful duty to make public acknowledgements 

 of such timely and efficient aid. 



The hist efturl, and the last contribution, were 

 from a different source. Garlands of grace and 

 elegance were destined to crown a work, which 

 liad its commencement in manly patriotism. — 

 The wiuidng power of t!;e sex addressed itself 

 to the public, and all that was needed to carry 

 the monument to its proposed height, and give to 

 it its finish, was promptly supplied. The moth- 

 ers and the daughters of the land contributed 

 thus, most successfully to whatever of beauty is 

 in the obelisk itself, or whatevei- of utility and 

 public benefit and gratification in its completion. 



Of those, with whom the plan of erecting on 

 this spot a monument, worthy of the event to be 

 commemorated, originate<l, many are now pres- 

 ent ; but others, alas! have themselves become 

 subjects of monumental inscription. Wdliam 

 Tudor, an accomplished .scholar, a distinguished 

 writer, a most amiable man, allied, hotli by birth 

 and sentiment, to the patriots of the Revolution, 

 died, while on public ser\ ice abroad, and now 

 Ties buried in a foreign land. William Sullivan, 

 a name fragrant of Revolutionary merit, and of 

 public service and public virtue, who himself 

 partook, in a high degree, of tlie resijectand con- 

 fidence of the community, and yet was always 

 most loved where best known, has also been 

 gu-tiiered to his fathers. And last, George Blake, 

 a lawyer of learning and eloquence, a man of 

 wit and of talent, of social qualities the most 

 agreeable and fascinating, and of gifts which 

 Onnbled him lo exercise large sway over public 

 assemblies, has closed his human career. I know 

 that in the crowds before me, there are those, 

 from wliose eyes copious tears will flow, at the 

 mention of these names. But sucli inentjon is 

 due to their g.';ni'ral characler, Iheir public and 

 private virtues, and especially on this occasion, 

 to the spirit and zeal, w itii whicii they entered 

 into the undertaking, which is now completed. 



1 have spoken only of those who are not now 

 numbered with the living. But a long life, now 

 drawing towards its close, alwajs dl^lingnish- 

 ed by acts of public s[iirit, humanity, and charity, 

 forming a character, whicli has already become 

 historical, and saiii-tified by public regard, and 

 by the affection of fiiends, may confer, even on 

 the living, the proper immunity of the dead, and 

 be the fit subject of honorable mention, and 

 warm commendaiion. Of the early projectors 

 of tlie design of this monument, one of the most 

 prominent, the most zealous, and the mo>t efti- 

 cient, is Thomas H. Perkins. It was betieath his 

 ever hospitable roof that those whom ! have 

 mentioned, and others yet living and now pres- 

 ent, having assembled for the purpose, adopted 

 the first step towards erecting a monument on 

 Bunker Hill. Long may hii,, remain. Long may 

 he remain, with unimpared faculties, jiiiilie wt('''i 

 field of his u.sefniness. tiifi .diarities have dis- 

 tilled like the dews of heaven; he has fed liie 

 hungry, and clothed the naked ; he has given 

 sight to the blind : and for.such virtues there is a 

 reward on high, of which all human memorials, 

 all language of brass and stone, are but humble 

 types and atteinpte;l,imitat.Qns. 



Time and uatuie have bad their course, iii di- 

 minishing the number of those whom we met 

 here on the 37th of June, 182.5. Most of the 

 fevolutionary characters then present have since 

 deceasedjiaud Lafayeltie sleeps in his native laiid^ 



Vet the name ami lilood of Warren are with us; 

 the kindred of Putnam are'also hero; and near 

 me, universally beloved for his character and his 

 virtues, and now venerable for his years, sits the 

 son of the noble-hearted and daring Prescott.— 

 Gideon Foster of Danvers, Enos Reynolds of 

 Boxford, Phineas Johnson, Robert Andrews, 

 Elijah Dresser, .losiab Cleaveland, Jesse Smith, 

 J'hilip Bagley, Needham Maynard, Roger Plais- 

 ted, Joseph Stephens, Nehemiah Porter, and 

 James Harvey, who bore arms for their country, 

 either at Concord and Le.vington, on the I9ih of 

 April, or on Bunker Hill, all now far advanced 

 in age, have come here to-day. to hiok once more 

 on tlie field of the exercise "of their valor, and 

 to receive a hearty outpouring of our respect. 



They liave long outlived the troubles and dan- 

 gers ot' the Revolution ; they Imve outlived the 

 evils arising from the want of a united and efii- 

 rient GovernTuent ; they have outlived the pen- 

 dency of imminent dangers to the public liberty; 

 they have oulived nearly all their cotemporaiies ; 

 but they have not outlived— they cannot outlive — 

 the aff-ctionate gratitude of their country. Hea- 

 ven bas not allotted to this generation an op|)or- 

 tunity of rendering high services, and maui- 

 I'esliug strong personal devotion, such as they 

 rendered and manil'ested, and in such a cause 

 as roused tue iiatrioiic fires of their youth- 

 ful breasts, and nerved the strength of their 

 arms. But we may praise what we cannot equal, 

 and celebrate actions which we v.'ere not born 

 to |)erlbriT). '^PukhrwaesthenefacerereipubliccB; 

 etiam benediccn hitud ahsurdum est.'" 



The Bunker Hill Monument is finished. Here 

 it stands. Fortunate in the natural eminence on 

 which it is placed— higlier, infinitely higher in 

 its objects and purpose, it rises ovei the land, and 

 over the sea, and visible, at their homes, to three, 

 hundred thousand citiz'ins of Massachusetts, — it, 

 stands, a memorial of the last, and a monilcr. to 

 the present, and all succeeding generations. I 

 have spoken of the loftine.ss of its purpose. If 

 it had been wilhout any other design thau the 

 creation of a work of art, the granite, of, which 

 it is composed, would have slept in its native bed. 

 It has a purpose; and that purpose gives it char- 

 acter. That well know purpose it,, is, which 

 causes us to look up to it with a feeling of avye. 

 It is Itself the orator of this., occasion, it, is not 

 Irom my lips, it is not from any huuiati .lips, that 

 that strain of eloquence is this day to flow, most 

 competent to move and e>;Qite the vast multitudes 

 around. The potent, speaker stands motionless 

 before them. It is a phiin shaft. It bears uo in- 

 scripiions, frontijig to the rising sun, from which 

 the future antiqtjarian shall wipe the dust. FoV 

 di;es tlie rising sun causetones of music to. jsstie 

 from its summit. But at the rising of the sun, 

 and at the setting of llie sun, in the blaze of noon- 

 day, and beneath the mihL-r effulgence of lunar 

 light, it Jouks, it speaks, it acts, to the full com- 

 prehension of every American, mind, and the 

 awakening of glowing enthusiasm jji ev3i;y Ainer- 

 ican heart. Its silent, but awful, utterance ; its 

 deep p;ithos, as it brings to our conlemplaiioii the 

 !7lli of June, 1775, and the consequences which 

 li.ive resulted to iis,.to our country, and to. the 

 World, from the events of that day, and which 

 we know must continue to rain influence on the 

 destinies of mankind, to the end oftittie;lhe 

 elevation with which it raises us high above the 

 ordinary feelings of life, surpass all that the study 

 of the closet, or ,eve.n .the. inspiration of genius 

 can prod,uce. To-day, it speaks to us. Its future 

 au,ditories will he through sncpessive generations 

 of men, as Jhey rise up before it, tmd gather 

 round it. Its speech will be of patriotism and 

 cqurtige; of, civil and rehgioua liberty; of .•"ifje 

 government; of the moral improvement and, (el- 

 evation of fuankiiid ; and, of the imiportal mem- 

 ory of those who witU hsroic devotion havti sac- 

 rificed their lives for their country. 



In the.older world, numerous fabricss^still exist, 

 r(i;ared by human h^ltds, but whoga object has 

 been lost, in the . darkness of ages. They are 

 now nictitimeuls. of nothing, hut the labor and 

 skill, vvl^ich constructed them. 



The nfi,glity pyramid itself, half buried in tlie- 

 saiida-of Attica, has nothing to !)ring down and 

 report to n.s, but the power of kings and the, ser- 

 vitude of the .people. !fi it luul, any ptirpose be- 

 yond that, of a mausoleum, such jjurpose has 

 perished from history, and troin tradition. If 

 asked, foi: its -moral obj/jct,., its admonitioi), its 



sentiment, its instruction to mankind, or any 

 high end in its erection, it is silent— silent as 

 the millions which lie in the dust at its base, and 

 in the catacombs which surround it. Without 

 a just moral obj.ecl, therefore made known to 

 man, though raised against the skies, it (■.-.cites 

 only conviction of power, mixed wiili strange 

 wonder. But if the civilization of the |)iesent 

 nn:e of men, founded as it is, in .solid science, 

 the true knowledge of nature, and vast discover- 

 ies ill art, and whu-h is slimulated and purified 

 by moral sfcutimeiit, and by the truths of Chris- 

 tianity, be not destined to destruction, before the 

 liiial termination of bun, an existence on earth, 

 the object and purpose of this edifice will he 

 known, till thai hour shall come. And even if 

 civilization should be suhveited, and the truths 

 of the Christian Religion obscured by a new 

 deluge of barbarism, tlie memory of Bunker 

 Hill and the .\nierican Revoluiion will still he 

 elements and parts of the kuowledge, v\liich 

 sliall be po.ssessed by the last inau, to vvhom me 

 liglit of civilization and Christianity shall be ex- 

 tended. 



t'liis celebration is honored , by the presence 

 of the Chief Executive MagistratM of the U.iiicin. 

 An occasion .so National in its object and rliarac- 

 ter, and so much connected .with that Rev»j|ijlion, 

 from whicli the Government sprang, ;;' the.head 

 of which he is jilaced, may. well receive from 

 him this,. mark of attention and. respect. Well 

 acquainted with Yorktowu,. the scene of the 

 last great military struggle of the Revolution,, 

 his eje now surveys the field of Bunker Hill, the 

 theatre of the firft of these important conflicts. 

 Hti sees where. VVarreu fell, where Putnain and 

 Prescott and Slark and, iKnowltun and Brooks 

 fought. He beholds tlie s|)ot, where a thousand 

 trained soldiers of England were smitten to the 

 earth, in the firet effort of Revolutionary war, by 

 the arm of a, hold and .dmermiiied,. yeomanry, 

 contending for liberty and their, country. And 

 while all a-«semhled here entertain towards him 

 sincere personal good wisjie-s, and the. higli re- 

 spect due to his elevated offitie, and .station, it is 

 not to be doubted, that he enters, with true 

 .\nerican fceling,.into.,the.pulriDtic enthusiasm,- 

 kindled by the occasion,, which .animates the, 

 millions whicli surround hiin. . 



His Excellency, theGovernor.of the Common- - 

 wealth,, the. Gvweri.ir of Rliocle Island, and the 

 other distinguished public men, w horn we have 

 the honor to receive as visifors a'-id guest , to-day, 

 will cordially, tmite in a celebration connected, 

 with the great event of. the Revolutionary war. 



No name in the history of 1775 and 1776 is 

 more distinguished than that of an ex-President 

 of the United Ststes, whom we expected to see 

 here, but whose ill health .)irevents his attend^ 

 ance. Whenever popular rights were to be as- 

 serted, an Adams was (iresent ; and. when the 

 time ■atne, for the formal Declaration of Inde- 

 pe-jidence, it was the voice of an Adams that, 

 shook the Halls of Congit-ss- We wish we could 

 have welcomed to us, this day, the inbe.-itor of 

 Revolulioiwry blood, and the jnst and worthy 

 Representative of high RsvolutioiK-ry names, 

 i;ierit and services. 



Banners and tiarlgcs, proce-ssions and flfigs, an- 

 nounce to us, that atnidsl this unco<mled multi- 

 tude are thousands of natives of Nev,- England, 

 nov/ residenis in other States. Welcome, ye 

 kindred names, with kindred blood I From the 

 broad savannas of the South, fiom the newer- 

 regions «f the West, from amidst the hundreds- 

 of thousands of men of Eastern origin; who 

 cultivate the ricli valley of the Genesse, or live 

 along the chain of the Lakes, from the moun- 

 tains of Pennsylvania, and the thronged cities of 

 the const, welcome, welcome I Whe'rever else 

 yon may he strangers, here yoijare all at home- 

 You assemble at this shrine of liheiiy, neaiilie 

 family altws, at which v our earl ittst devotions- 

 were paid to Heaven; near to- the temples of 

 worship, first entered by you, and near to the 

 scliools and colleges, in which your education 

 vvas4-eceiv*id. You come lutlier with a gidrioiis 

 ancestry of Liberty. You bring names, which 

 are on the rolls "of Lexington, Conoord and 

 Bunker Hill. Yidu come, some of yon, once 

 more. to be embraced ' by an aged Revoltionary 

 fatht'r, or to receive another, perhaps, a last bless- 

 ing, bestowed in love and tears, by a mother, yet 

 surviving to witness, and to enjoy, your prosperi- 

 ty and happiness. 



