pictures of St. Botolph's Church with its square tower looming up fully three hundred feet and seen for a long, long distance over the flat country. This reminds me that this northeastern section of England is far less interesting than the southern and southwestern portions, the lovely hedgerows and hills of the latter giving way to stone fences and flat country, — decidedly uninteresting. We were told that the chapel of St. Botolph's Church was restored in 1857 by citizens of American Boston, in memory of John Cotton, who was vicar here in about the year 1600, before he came to America. From Boston we reached Ely, a decidedly cathedral town, where I was obliged to leave the motor early Saturday morning to meet an engagement with Lord Denbigh to witness the field sports of the H.A.C. on the Armoury Grounds at Finsbury. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hedges proceeded with the motor to Cambridge, where I joined her in the evening. We spent two or three days in this most interesting university city, and next visited Oxford, the other great university city. I will not attempt to describe either place, because they are familiar to you all. From Oxford we proceeded on our last hitch for London, a distance of about sixty miles, the country being rather uninteresting in spots. As we reached the suburbs of London, and within half a mile of our hotel, we had a tire burst, and in the least attractive place that it could happen, with blacksmiths' shops and beer saloons all about. We were delayed there about half an hour, when we reached our hotel about four o'clock on Wednesday, August 2. The distance covered on this trip was about fifteen hundred miles. The delays on account of repairs were very slight, only two tires having burst. Casualties · one little white dog about a foot and a half long. After stopping in London about a week, we started on our Continental trip. The traveller sees such cheering signs as: Ye Olde Punch Bowl The Coffee Pot Inn The Golden Barrel Then the name of every species of animal and bird is put up to attract The Red Horse The Cart and Horse The Waggon and Horses The Pied Horse The Dolphin The Lion and Lamb The Little Cock A playful fancy is represented by such a variety as: Royalty and the nobility supply an endless number of names for signs, as Queen Victoria, William the Fourth, King of Prussia, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cambridge to the extent of hundreds. When at a loss for a name, the innkeepers have only to take the word "Arms" and prefix the words " Waggoners," ""Foresters," "Plasterers," "Blacksmiths," and so on, which leads me to say that one sometimes sees the sign "Whitesmith," meaning plumber. FEBRUARY 22, 1906. The second "smoker" of the series took the form of a celebration of Washington's birthday, and was held at the Quincy House. A portrait of Washington hung on the wall behind the presiding officer's chair; Washington as commanding general was portrayed on the cover of the menu card; Washington as soldier and patriot was the theme of many of the speeches; and emulation of the character of Washington and Lincoln by men of the present day was prayed for by Rev. Alan Hudson, the Chaplain. Guests included Congressman David J. Foster of Vermont, Hon. Samuel J. Elder, Rev. Alan Hudson of Brockton, Chaplain of the Company, Rev. Stephen H. Roblin and Rev. Edward A. Horton of Boston, former chaplains, Rev. Joseph H. Rockwell, S.J., Vice-President of Boston College, Rev. John F. Lyons of Holyoke, Dr. John F. Worcester, Mr. John Moir, Hon. Charles M. Bruce, Lieut.-Com. James H. Dilloway, Jr., Massachusetts Naval Brigade, Judge J. C. Kennedy of Newton, Hon. J. J. McCarthy, Surveyor of the Port, and ex-Lieut.-Gov. Allen of Vermont, a descendant of Ethan Allen. Members present numbered about three hundred. Captain Morse, who presided, introduced Mr. Foster as the first speaker when coffee and cigars were served after dinner. Mr. Foster said in part: - CONGRESSMAN DAVID J. FOSTER. Mr. Commander and Comrades: I thank you sincerely for the privilege of meeting with you on this occasion. It is always a pleasure to turn aside from the busy routine of everyday life for the thoughtful consideration of any subject associated with our common country. Its past is so full of inspiration, its future so laden with possibilities, and each passing day so fraught with development that we cannot meet, as we do to-day, even upon the most ordinary occasion, without having our appreciation of the work of the past deepened, our patriotism quickened, and our sense of responsibility as American citizens heightened. But this is no ordinary occasion. Its annual observance for these many years intensifies rather than lessens the interest which gathers about it. Time does not always cheapen nor repetition always dull. The spectacle of the starry heavens, though familiar to every generation through all the succeeding centuries, will be as sublime to-night as when witnessed by the first lone shepherd of the East. Spring time, with its bursting bud and opening leaf and springing flower, though familiar to every generation since the bow was set in the cloud as a token that the season should not fail, will come to us in the course of a few weeks as bright and beautiful and joyous as ever before. Faith and courage and devotion are as old as the race, yet wherever exhibited to-day they continue to chain the attention and challenge the admiration of all mankind. We commemorate to-day the man who was the great central figure in the struggle of this country of ours more than a century ago. And to-day, as we stand on the threshold of the new century, we can say of him, as was said of him of old, First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen. [Applause.] But, my friends, we should not forget the purpose of this occasion. The great father of his country needs no poor words of mine to keep green his memory. The gratitude of the nation speaks from the canvas, is chiselled in marble, climbs in architecture, is told in story and sung in song; but the purpose of this occasion is the inspiration that it affords you and me who participate in it. As I said, this great father perpetuate his name. of his country needed no monument to tell the story of his deeds or to The work he did and his own transcendent character have made his name immortal, but the monument placed to his memory by patriotic hands in one of the metropolises of our country is forever speaking to the hurrying throngs, with its outstretched hand is forever beckoning them to his high level. Lord Nelson needed no monument to perpetuate his name, yet the thousands who daily pass and repass through Trafalgar Square feel their pulse-beat quickened as they glance at his commanding figure upon its lofty pedestal and catch again the echo of his dying words, “England expects every man to do his duty." [Applause.] The fathers, sons, and brothers who went forth in defence of their country at the call of Abraham Lincoln, whose picture is before us, needed no monument to tell the story of their deeds, other than the Union which they redeemed and strengthened with their blood. But the memorials, my friends, that have been placed to their memory in hamlet and town throughout our land, from the noble pile on the shore of the Hudson that guards all that is mortal of the great captain to the plain marble slab that in the National Cemetery marks the resting place of the unknown private, teach our youth lessons no less instructive, no less inspiring, no less important in the great education of life, than those taught within school and college walls. [Applause.] Washington is the man we remember first of all in the founding of this great country of ours. We do not forget the creative genius of Hamilton, nor the transcendent legal wisdom and acumen of John Marshall, to each of whom we owe a debt of gratitude. But Washington was not only the man under whom we won the victory of the Revolution, but through whose influence and by virtue of whose character the Constitution under which we now live was finally adopted by the thirteen states. And, my friends, as we stand here to-day, and look back over the years of the nineteenth century, we see that the one transcendent event of that century was the progress, the development, the achievements of this republic under the Constitution adopted by virtue of the influence of Washington. And we see further that during that whole century the one thing that stands out above all else among the American people is the tremendous effort on their part to fulfil the purpose of the founders of our republic in establishing it under that Constitution. For you remember that when our fathers adopted the Constitution under which we now live, they declared that their first purpose in so doing was to secure a more perfect union. During the ten years preceding the Declaration of Independence, and more particularly through the dark and dreary night of the Revolution, the people of the thirteen colonies were held together by the strongest ties of a common danger and a common peril. The midnight message of Paul Revere was carried, not merely to every Middlesex village and farm, but to every hamlet and hearthstone of the thirteen colonies, and the victory at Lexington bridge and Concord green knit together the minds and hearts of the colonists in a common cause for a common pur pose. But when at length that cause was achieved, that purpose accomplished, when the last British redcoat and British mercenary had been driven from the land, then, instead of a people standing forth and working together to build up a great and free nation, there stood forth thirteen petty republics, each intensely jealous of all the others, each fearful lest the least concession of right or privilege for the common weal might open the way for the oppressor, for the tyrant. You remember that John Fiske declares that this was the critical period in all our history. It was then that our fathers saw that, in order that the people might not lose the benefit of their hard-earned victory, in order that the land which had been rescued from savage beasts and still more savage men might become the theatre of a great people, in order that the states which had been carved out of the wilderness and rescued from the enemy might be dedicated forever to the principles of popular government and civil liberty, a more perfect union must be secured. What kind of a union had they in mind, my friends? For there are different types of union. The boulder on the shore of the sea represents union, but its very lowest type. There is no essential difference between it and the sand round about it. The sand represents what the rock will come to under the ceaseless action of the remorseless waves. The rock is but the compact cohesion of innumerable particles of sand. And so you see there is no analogy between the union of the rock and the union of the American people which the fathers had in mind. Again, I hold in my hand a crystal, clear and translucent as the day, a thing of beauty. I hold in my other hand a handful of earth, that soils everything with which it comes in contact, yet it may contain all the elements of the crystal. The crystal represents union, and a higher type of union than the rock, for down in the secret workshop of nature it underwent the mysterious processes of organization, and henceforward it is organized union. But though organized, though beautiful, though illustrating the mighty transforming power of organization, it is dead matter still, and any analogy between the union of the crystal and the union of the libertyloving American people which our fathers had in mind is remote indeed. The army, again, represents a still higher type of union, for it is a thoroughly organized body of men. For months and years the same manœuvres have been gone through with, the same charges, advances, and retreats, until at the word of command the vast forces move forward as one man; but the army does not represent the highest type of union, for throughout the vast host there is but one will, the will of the commander. The will of the soldiers is for the time subject to his will. "Theirs not to make reply, Theirs but to do and die." And could you see that army on some field of Gettysburg or Waterloo, could you see how at the word of command the vast host moves forward |