of the Mayflower and its precious freight of civil and religious liberty. Across the bay rises almost to completion the plain but solid shaft that marks the home of Miles Standish, that sturdy type of courage and independence in life and faith which has been multiplied in New England in very phase of its thought and culture. In Boston, before the State House, Webster, defender of the Constitution, and Mann, the promoter of public education. Before its City Hall, Franklin, the most prolific and comprehensive brain in American history, and Quincy, a noble name in Massachusetts for generation after generation. In its public squares, Winthrop, the Puritan founder; Sam Adams, true leader of the people, and Abraham Lincoln, emancipator of the grateful race that kneels enfranchised at his feet. In its Public Garden the equestrian statue of Father Washington, the figure of Charles Sumner, and the uplifted arm of Everett. And in its avenues, Hamilton, the youthful founder of our national finance, and John Glover, colonel of the Marblehead regiment, whose lusty arms and oars rescued Washington from Long Island. At Mount Auburn, James Otis, that flame of fire. At Lexington, Hancock and Adams. At Concord, the embattled farmer. In Hingham, in marble pure as his own heroic instincts, that war governor, who in the heart of the Massachusetts soldier can never be disassociated from the sympathies and martyrdom of the service which he shared with you even to his life. And now, in Chelsea, the national flag, floating out its bright and rippling cheer from the year's beginning to its end, waves over the Soldiers' Home, which as been secured by your contributions, so that if haply there be one needy veteran whom the magnificent and unparalleled provisions of Massachusetts fails, as all general laws must, in some rare cases, fail to reach, there he may find a shelter that shall not dishonor him. Time and your patience would fail an enumeration of the monuments which, within a few years, have dotted the State, and in whose massive handwriting the century is recording for centuries hence its story of heroism, so plain, so legible, that though a new Babel should arise, and the English tongue be lost, the human heart and eye will still read it at a glance. Scarce a town is there-from Boston, with its magnificent column crowned with the statue of America, at the dedication of which even the conquered Southron came to pay honor, to the humblest stone in rural villages-in which these monuments do not rise summer and winter, in snow and sun, day and night, to tell how universal was the response of Massachusetts to the call of the patriot's duty, whether it rang above the city's din or broke the quiet of the farm. On city square and village green stand the graceful figures of student, clerk, mechanic, farmer, in that endeared and never-to-be-forgotten war uniform of the soldier or the sailor, their stern young faces to the front, still on guard, watching the work they wrought in the flesh, and teaching, in eloquent silence, the lesson of the citizen's duty to the State. How our children. will study these! How they will search and read their names! How quaint and antique to them will seem their arms and costumes! How they will gather and store up in their minds the fine, insensibly filtering percolation of the sentiment of valor, of loyalty, of fight for right, of resistance against wrong, just as we inherited all this from the Revolutionary era, so that, when some crisis shall in the future come to them, as it came to us, they will spring to the rescue, as sprang our youth in the beauty and chivalry of the consciousness of a noble descent. During the late Turco-Russian war I passed an evening in a modest home in a quiet country town. It was a wild night. The family circle sat by the open fire of a New England sitting-room. They told me of a son of that house, a young man already known in literature and art, who, full of the spirit of adventure, was at that moment, as war correspondent of a great London daily,, with the head of the Russian army in Bulgaria. They read me his letters, in which he interwove affectionate inquiries and memories of home with vivid descriptions of battles, of wounds, of Turkish barbarities, of desolated villages, of murdered and mutilated peasants, of long marches through worse than Virginian mud, of wild bivouac in rain and tempest, of stirring incidents of the Russian camp, of the thousand shifting scenes of the theater of a campaign, till suddenly that quiet room in which we sat was transfigured, and we, snug sheltered from the storm, were apace translated over the sea into the very stir and toss of the war, our sympathies, our hopes, our interests, our very selves all there. And so it is with us always. Shut up within ourselves, our minds intent on nothing but the narrow limits of immediate place and time, our hearts and fists closing tighter on our little own, we shrivel like dry leaves. But let the thrill of that common humanity electrify us which links together all men, all time past, present and to come, and we spring into the upper air. When we do these honors to the deserving dead, when we revive not alone the fact but the ideal of their service, we strike a chord that forever binds us and the world around us with all great heroisms, with all great causes and sacrifices, with the throb of that loftier moral atmosphere which is lost only in the unison of man's immortal soul with the soul of God the Father. § 43 THE ARMY OF DEMOCRACY By John G. Doyle (Address before Vera Cruz Council, Knights of Columbus, New York City, Feb. 22, 1918.) On this anniversary of the birth of George Washington, well termed "the Father of Our Country," your Council meets under inspiring circumstances. This day we have seen the ten thousand drafted men from Camp Upton parading in this city. The snow was falling as they marched. It clung to their shoulders. It made soft white flecks upon their hair. It filtered down their rifle barrels. They marched with erect heads. They were bronzed, vigorous, confident, virile. They swung down the avenue with precision and power. And as we looked at them on this Birthday of Washington we saw in them the army of democracy. They were our brothers, our sons, our relatives, husbands and sweethearts of American women, members of American households. But a few months ago they were clerks, artisans workers, producers, part of the great American people engaged in the pursuits of peace. They were called into service, not by the mandate of any military despot, not by the coercion of soldiery already in arms They were summoned because their own elected representatives, mer chosen directly by the people, had decreed that the fight for the liberty of the world and the safety of democracy should be made by the army of democracy, the able-bodied citizenry of the United States, called forth in the name of all the people to defend the liberties of all the people. The snow on which they trod softened the sounds of their footsteps. It filled the vision with the thought and sight of winter. And as that great army marched, snow-covered, and treading through the white flakes, we saw, in fancy, another army marching above them. That ghostly army was clad in rags and tatters. The men marched with shoeless feet, and at every step the crimson stain left upon the ice over which they painfully passed told mutely of their sufferings. And at the head JOHN GRANT DOYLE. Born Brighton, Mass., December 1, 1868; educated Boston Latin School, Harvard College, and New York University; M.D., 1891; lecturer New York City Board of Education, 1894-1897; lecturer at the Catholic Summer School of America; decorated by the Pope in 1909 with the rank of Knight_Commander of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre. Present address, 226 East 31st Street New York City. of that ghostly army marched George Washington, who was leading the starving patriots of the American Revolution in the winter at Valley Forge. Seven score of years have passed since that patriot army made America free. Their deathless valor and sacrifice placed in the free air of heaven a new banner, the emblem of a new nation among the nations of the world, a nation "conceived in liberty" and calling upon all the world to grasp the message that American sacrifice and American blood had here destroyed hereditary government, the rule of caste, the restriction of opportunity, and had planted here forever equality before the law, government by the people, and ordered liberty, which give fullest expression to the best aspirations in political and civic life. We rejoice in that heritage of freedom which American patriots won for themselves and for us, their posterity; that freedom which has inspired the advance of democracy throughout the world. We declare our unfaltering allegiance to the principles of government embodied in our constitution. These principles embrace government by laws enacted by elected legislators directly chosen by and responsible to the people, which laws are enforced by an elected executive, chosen for a brief term, and answerable for his acts to the people. These principles include protection of the rights of life and property and determination of equity by courts chosen directly by the people or confirmed by the people's elected representatives. In these principles we recognize the voice and the control of democracy itself. In this great world-war we pledge to ourselves and to the world that American democracy represented on the battlefront by the sons of a free people is actuated by no selfish motive of aggrandizement of wealth or empire. We send forth that army that the honor and safety of the United States and its free institutions may survive, that despotism shall not crush democracy, that the sword shall not dominate the world, but that this, the greatest republic in the world's history, may continue its destiny of expanding and preserving free institutions and of bringing hither the peoples of the world who seek liberty and opportunity in peaceful development and prosperity, that they may here fuse into a great nation of freemen who shall advance the ideals of democracy in the world. For these principles the army of democracy, a part of which we this day saw and felt inspiration from, and the greater army yet to go forth on foreign fields, march to the battle test. They and we pledge our unquestioning and wholehearted loyalty to these principles and the hopes and institutions of the United States. They and we unite in declaring |