in his eye, and the bounty of goodness in his hand, and so courageously battle against all the violence, and poison, and wrong of the world. God prosper the right! And when the victories of truth and freedom are universal, then and not till then will be the time to write the eulogy of our Pilgrim Fathers. We enter upon this anniversary beneath wreaths of cypress and not of laurel.1 Meet is it that the voice of festivity should be hushed; for he who had so often been with us on these occasions, whose sonorous voice had so eloquently celebrated this day of our forefathers in words which will ever adorn our national literature, New England's greatest son, has gone from private friendships and a nation's honors, to rest in that Pilgrim dust which he so much loved and honored. While others have eulogized his learning and eloquence as a jurist, his greatness as a statesman, it is only appropriate to this occasion for me to say that he was the genuine growth of our own soil, and the peculiar product of our own institutions. No flags floated over baronial halls in honor of his birth; no fretted ceiling and storied arch of universities looked down upon his education. Springing from the bosom of the people, working his way upward by his own spontaneous and irrepressible force, he could not have been what he was but for the peculiar influences of his New England home. The small, low, brown house of a plain New Hampshire farmer, with its well-sweep and trees; the patriotic father who told him of the battles of the Revolution; the pious mother who taught him the catechism and the Sabbath hymns; the ploughed field and the mown meadow; the trials and struggles of the hon 1 Because of the recent decease of Hon. Daniel Webster the Society had voted to dispense with their annual dinner. est poor; the winter district-school; the snow storm; the aspirations after knowledge; the difficulties in meeting the expenses of an education; the sympathy of loving brothers; the affectionateness of humble kindred; the New England College; the meeting-house; the Sabbath; Thanksgiving Day; in a word, all the scenery and institutions of his native land, these were the influences which lay about the roots of his character, and made him what he was, in every thought, memory, instinct and sympathy, thoroughly American. And he has gone! We have laid him down in the spot which he had himself chosen, by the side of our forefathers, and within sight of the Rock which their feet first touched. Should the time ever come when the memories of our origin and our history should fade into dimness; should the national sentiment grow feeble at the heart; should there be found one among us so dead to all patriotism as to care not for the noble lessons which his wisdom gave us, him will we lead to that simple and unpretending tomb, hard by the shore which first welcomed the Pilgrims, hoping that the name and memory of DANIEL WEBSTER will rouse his dormant spirit, even as the bones of Elisha imparted a new life to the dead man who was let down into his sepulchre. MARK HOPKINS (1802-1887.) THE celebration at the Church of the Puritans in 1853 was addressed by that master among teachers, Dr. Mark Hopkins, for thirty-six years president of Williams College, and for thirty years the strong and wise head of the American Board of Foreign Missions. Eminent as a student, thinker, and speaker, he was greatest in his personal influence on those about him. When he took its leadership, Williams was still a small institution. Under his wise and self-denying presidency, it became one of the powerful colleges of the country. Dr. Hopkins was a native of Stockbridge. He graduated from Williams in 1824, and shortly returned to it as a tutor. An offer of the chair of philosophy and rhetoric changed his arrangements for entering medical practice in New York, and made Williamstown his permanent home. Six years later, at thirty-four, he was elected president. Many of his courses of lectures were published, receiving wide attention, and it is interesting to note that Dr. Hopkins was a forerunner of those who now emphasize the value of study of the natural sciences. ORATION THE HE celebrations and amusements of a people indicate their character. A populace, such as despotism and superstition produce and imply, require to be amused by pageants, and processions, and sports, and masquerades. Giving up the care of their government to the king, and of their salvation to the priest, what have they to do but to convert their holy-days into holidays, and when a prescribed formality has satisfied the conscience, to follow a monkey, or a tumbler, to visit the cock-pit or the gaming-table, to be gay, and, shall I say, happy,—no, not happy-but to be amused and managed like grown-up children. To such, the idea of a Sabbath as a day of holy rest, is inconceivable. A people, on the other hand, reflective, self-governed, feeling their individual and immediate responsibility to God, will create an atmosphere stifling to all pageantry and mummery. They will keep their Sabbaths; their festivities will be irradiated by a rational joy, and their celebrations and holidays will not be without something to strengthen principle, and nourish the affections. These days will be consecrated to the progress of the peaceful arts; they will commemorate the bounties of Providence, the struggles and triumphs of freedom, the piety and heroism of Pilgrim Fathers. Pilgrim Fathers! What wealth of hallowed associations is garnered in these words! By what others in |