ORATION. 13 Next, in reviewing the early scenes of war, we stand on Bunker Hill and share the varied emotions that belong to the 17th of June. In darker hours we have loved to remind each other that our existence as a nation dates from a lost battle. On the evening of that day swift couriers told the country that our fathers had retreated; that Charlestown was in ashes; that Warren was among the slain. But they told of such a spirit, and aroused such a spirit, as was an assurance of final victory. So did this contest begin with a lost battle for the North. But, as we saw how the tidings were received, we could not call it wholly a disaster. We saw a noble nation not sinking in despair, but rising in defiance. The languid love of country which had slept in hours of peace, became “the live thunder” of awakened and indignant loyalty. And the people came forward offering their substance, their services, their lives; ready to sacrifice that which it is harder to give up, even their political prejudices, forgetting past differences, burying all partisanship, determined that while treason threatened the Capital, they would know nothing but an endangered country and an insulted flag. Oh, for a return of that spirit! It were cheaply purchased by the bombardment of a Northern city. Again, I thought of Bunker Hill, as early on a gloomy morning in December, 1862, I stood by the
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