Information of these events, circulating throughout the world, at length reached the ears of one who now hears me.[8] He has not forgotten the emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited in his youthful breast.

SIR, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great public principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead.  The occasion is too severe for eulogy of the living.  But, Sir, your interesting relation to this country, the peculiar circumstances which surround you and surround us, call on me to express the happiness which we derive from your presence and aid in this solemn commemoration.

Fortunate, fortunate man! with what measure of devotion will you not thank God for the circumstances of your extraordinary life!  You are connected with both hemispheres and with two generations.  Heaven saw fit to ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted, through you, from the New World to the Old; and we, who are now here to perform this duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in charge from our fathers to cherish your name and your virtues.  You will account it an instance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the seas to visit us at a time which enables you to be present at this solemnity.  You now behold the field, the renown of which reached you in the heart of France, and caused a thrill in your ardent bosom.  You see the lines of the little redoubt thrown up by the incredible diligence of Prescott; defended, to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor; and within which the corner-stone of our monument has now taken its position.  You see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner, McCleary, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him.  Those who survived that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the present hour, are now around you.  Some of them you have known in the trying scenes of the war.  Behold! they now stretch forth their feeble arms to embrace you.  Behold! they raise their trembling voices to invoke the blessing of God on you and yours for ever.

Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this structure.  You have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commendation, the names of departed patriots.  Monuments and eulogy belong to the dead.  We give them this day to Warren and his associates.  On other occasions they have been given to your more immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to Greene, to Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln.  We have become reluctant to grant these, our highest and last honors, further.  We would gladly hold them yet back from the little remnant of that immortal band. Serus in coelum redeas. Illustrious as are your merits, yet far, O very far distant be the day, when any inscription shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy!