I rejoice, above all, in this day's meeting; and that the doors of Faneuil Hall have been thrown open to this great and patriotic assemblage; a temple worthy the offering. The spirit of the revolution is enshrined within its columns; and old Faneuil Hall seems to respond to old Bunker Hill; this, with the ancient thunders of its eloquence, and that with the thunders of the battle; as deep calleth unto deep with the noise of its waterspouts. It was beneath this roof that the spirits of our fathers were roused to that lofty enthusiasm, which led them up, calm and unresisting, to the flaming terrors of the mount of sacrifice; and well does it become us, their children, to gather beneath the venerable arches, and resolve to discharge the debt of gratitude and duty to their

memory.

Two of the periods assigned to a generation of men have passed away, since the immortal Warren appeared before his fellow-citizens on the memorable anniversary of the fifth of March. He was, at that time, in the very dawn of manhood, and as you behold him in yonder delineation of his person. Amiable, accomplished, prudent, energetic, eloquent, brave,—he united the graces of a manly beauty to a lion heart, a sound mind, a safe judgment, and a firmness of purpose which nothing could shake. At the period to which I allude, he was but just thirty-two years of age; so young, and already the acknowledged head of the cause! He had never seen a battle-field; but the veterans of Louisburg and Quebec looked up to him as their leader; and the hoary-headed sages who had guided the public councils for a generation, came to him for advice. Such he stood, the organ of the public sentiment on the occasion just mentioned. At the close of his impassioned address, after having depicted the labors, hardships, and sacrifices, endured by our ancestors in the cause of liberty, he broke forth in the thrilling words, "The voice of your fathers' blood cries to you from the ground!” Three years only passed away; the solemn struggle came on; foremost in council, he also was foremost in the battlefield, and offered himself a voluntary victim, the first great martyr in the cause. Upon the heights of Charlestown, the

last that was struck down, he fell with a numerous band of kindred spirits, the gray-haired veteran, the stripling in the flower of youth, who had stood side by side through that dreadful day, and fell together, like the beauty of Israel on their high places!

And now, sir, from the summit of Bunker Hill THE VOICE OF OUR FATHERS' BLOOD CRIES TO US FROM THE GROUND. It

rings in my ears. It pleads with us, by the sharp agonies of their dying hour; it adjures us to discharge the last debt to their memory. Let us hear that awful voice; and resolve, before we quit these walls, that the long-delayed duty shall be performed; that the work SHALL BE DONE, DONE, SHALL BE DONE!

TEMPERANCE.*

MR EVERETT moved the following resolution:

Resolved, That while we behold, with the highest satisfaction, the success of the efforts which have been made for the suppression of intemperance, we consider its continued prevalence as affording the strongest motives for persevering and increased exertion;

And then spoke substantially as follows:

MR PRESIDENT:

WHEN I look around me, and see how many persons there are in the assembly better entitled than myself to the privi lege of addressing the audience, it is not without great diffidence that I present myself before you. But if there are occasions on which it is our duty to exert ourselves, in season and out of season, there are also objects we should endeavor to promote, in place and out of place, if, indeed, a man can ever be out of place, who rises in a civilized and Christian community to speak in behalf of Temperance. Emboldened by this reflection, and in compliance with your request, I have ventured to submit the resolution which I have just read, and of which, with your permission, I will briefly enforce the purport. And most sincerely can I say that I never raised my voice with a clearer conviction of duty, nor a more cheerful hope of the ultimate success of the

cause.

I am not insensible to the force of the objection which

* Speech delivered at a temperance meeting in Salem, on the 14th of June, 1833.

meets us on the threshold,

I mean the objection taken to the

multiplication of what are called self-created societies, and, in general, to the free development and application of the social influence which have been witnessed in our day. But though these objections have been urged in the most respectable quarter, I have never been able to feel their force. I think it will be found, on full examination of the matter, that societies are liable to precisely the same objections as the action of individual men; that is, they are liable to misapplication and abuse. But I believe it would be quite as easy for a powerful and ingenious mind to point out the abuses to which individual effort is liable, as those to which societies are exposed; quite as easy to show the good that might have been and has not been done; the reforms which might have been and have not been accomplished; the happiness which might have been and has not been enjoyed, had the social principle been brought out in a still earlier, ampler, and more cordial development. In a word, sir, though I am not over-fond of abstract generalities on questions of this nature, I cannot but think that the individual principle, in its abuse, tends to selfishness, to weakness, to barbarism, to ignorance, and to vice; and that the social principle, subject also to its abuses, is the principle of benevolence, civilization, knowledge, genial power, and expansive goodness. On this point, however, it would be safer to leave theoretical axioms aside. It is, perhaps, enough to insist on good faith, good temper, and sound principle, on the part of societies and individuals. Where these prevail, there is little danger of abuse. Where they are absent, it little matters whether the public peace is disturbed, the cause of reform obstructed, and bad passion nourished by associations or individuals. fact, in the complicated structure of modern society, it is impossible to draw a line between them. It is powerful individuals that move societies; it is organized multitudes which give power to individuals.

In

If there is any cause in which it is right and proper to employ the social principle, the promotion of temperance is that cause; for intemperance, in its origin, is peculiarly a social

vice. Although, in its progress, men may creep away, from shame, to indulge the depraved appetite in secret, yet no man, in a state of civilization, is born, I imagine, with a taste so unnatural, that he would, without the inducement of society, seek an intoxicating liquor, in the outset, for his ordinary or frequent drink. It is usually tasted for the first time as the pledge of hospitality, and the bond of good fellowship. Idle men, who meet casually together, with kind feelings towards each other, — ask each other to step into the dramshop and "take something to drink," for want of any thing else to say or do; and there they swallow the liquid poison "to each other's health." The social circle, the stated club, the long-protracted sitting at the board, on public occasions, the midnight festivities of private assemblies, these, nine cases out of ten, teach men the fatal alphabet of intemperance; surprise them into their first excesses; break down the sense of shame; establish a sympathy of conscious frailty; and thus lead them on, by degrees, to habitual, and at length craving, solitary, and fatal indulgence. The vice of intemperance, then, is social in its origin, progress, and aggravation; and most assuredly authorizes us, by every rule of reason and justice, in exerting the whole strength of the social principle in the way of remedy.

If it were possible to entertain a doubt on this point, as a matter of theory, that doubt would be removed by the safe test of experience. The maxims of temperance are not new; they are as old as Christianity; as old as any of the inculcations of personal and social duty. Every other instrument of moral censure had been tried, in the case of intemperance, as in that of other prevailing errors, vices, and crimes. The law had done something; the press had done something; the stated ministrations of religion had done something; but all had done but little; and intemperance had reached a most alarming degree of prevalence. At length the principle of association was applied; societies were formed, meetings were held, public addresses made, information collected and communicated, pledges mutually given, the minds of men excited, and their hearts warmed, by comparison of opinions,