AT A DINNER COMPLIMENTARY TO EDWARD L. PIERCE, DECEMBER 29, 1894.

MR. CHAIRMAN, -It is certainly a distinguished honor and privilege to be asked to speak in such a presence and on such an occasion as this, though I must confess the call is wholly unexpected. I came into the room almost at the end of the procession, and sat down very humbly, and ate my dinner in peace, greatly enjoying the conversation of my neighbors. The dinner was nearly over before I was informed, much to my surprise, that you had placed my name in the list of victims. But I suppose in obedience to your summons I must give an account of my presence here, and I assure you I do it very cheerfully. A number of motives have combined to draw me into this company to-day. First and foremost of all let me say, that I have come prompted by my long friendship and high regard for the gentleman to whom this meeting is a most just and worthy compliment. I have known him from my very early boyhood. I am indebted to him for

favors rendered in my young manhood. He and I were born in the same town, and I come, therefore, as a loyal son of old Stoughton to rejoice in one of the fairest and noblest products of that ancient town, to join with you in the acclaim which is due to his achievements, to bask in the sunlight of his fame, and to appropriate some of the reflected glory of his life.

I am drawn hither also by the magic name of Charles Sumner. That is one of the charms that I can never resist. The personality of Sumner fired my youthful enthusiasm as no other human being ever did; it called forth all the admiration of my mature manhood; and to this hour it is as potent as ever to rouse and quicken. I have sometimes thought that if I were awakened in the middle of the night and summoned to speak on his life and services, I should not fail or falter. But somehow this occasion seems to take away my power of utterance. This company renowned and

of distinguished men, the graceful orators who have preceded me, have rendered me nearly speechless.

The hour is late, sir, and I will take time for only a single word. That word must bear directly upon the significance of this banquet.

Why are we here? What is the spell that holds us? I have asked myself what it is in the character of Sumner that brings together, twenty years after his death, such an assemblage of his admirers and followers? Is there another civilian in our American history, Abraham Lincoln alone excepted, who could call forth such a tribute to his worth and fame? Could even the great Webster himself? We have been reminded recently of the merits and achievements of that mighty champion of the Union and expounder of the Constitution. I have read, Mr. Chairman,— every gentleman in this room has read with a thrill of admiration,-your eloquent eulogy in the Senate of the United States upon the career of the majestic and peerless statesman who for so many years stood before the civilized world as the representative and type of all that is highest and noblest in this American Republic. For myself I observed with delight the fine analysis of your speech, the accurate description and careful weighing of the wonderful powers of that wonderful man ; above all, the portrayal of the grounds on which for more than a generation he was held almost as an idol in Massachusetts. It was a satisfaction to me also to note how, with un

flinching courage and perfect fidelity to truth, you showed why, after all that idolatry, the hearts of the people fell away from him as if he had done some sacrilegious and evil thing, and left him to oblivion, ignominy, and death.

It seems to me, however, that your speech had a deeper meaning than appears to the casual reader. It ought to be said here that in that speech in which you have sketched so profoundly alike the triumph and failure of Daniel Webster, you have assigned the real reason why in the same hour that he was rejected Massachusetts turned, as if under the influence of a mighty loadstone, to the imperial personality of Charles Sumner ; why it followed his leadership, not only in life, but follows it in death, and will follow it so long as the life-blood courses in the veins of her people. No public man was ever more ardently loved or more completely trusted. Both the love and trust were evoked by the moral grandeur of his life. The people followed his standard because he believed in holding governments to the eternal and unchangeable law of right; because he was true to the moral principles on which our beloved Commonwealth is founded; because he had lofty ideals, and never wavered in his devo

tion to them; because he walked reverently and loyally in the steps of the Pilgrims and Puritans, who, in the fear of God and the love of man, set up here in this western wilderness a nation whose foundation stones are human equality, freedom, and justice.

This, moreover, is the quality in the characters and offices of men in public life that abides. Other qualities shift and fluctuate, but this remains the same. Other qualities may dazzle and even dominate for a season, but this never loses its potency, but even grows stronger as time goes on. Not long ago Dr. Edward Everett Hale told me of an address which he gave at Brown University, in which, of set purpose, he drew the picture of two men. One was of the man who, when he rose in his place to speak in the House, emptied the Senate; and who, when he rose to speak in the Senate, emptied the House.

The other was the picture of the great man who put the impress of his life on Brown University. He told me that when he had finished and stepped down from the platform, men born in Rhode Island, who were the contemporaries of the man described, came to him and asked him whom he meant by the man, who, when he was a representative and rose to speak