ent was laid. The hopes of its projectors rested on
voluntary contributions, private munificence, and the general favor of
the public. These hopes have not been disappointed. Donations have been
made by individuals, in some cases of large amount, and smaller sums
have been contributed by thousands. All who regard the object itself as
important, and its accomplishment, therefore, as a good attained, will
entertain sincere respect and gratitude for the unwearied efforts of the
successive presidents, boards of directors, and committees of the
Association which has had the general control of the work. The
architect, equally entitled to our thanks and commendation, will find
other reward, also, for his labor and skill, in the beauty and elegance
of the obelisk itself, and the distinction which, as a work of art, it
confers upon him.

At a period when the prospects of further progress in the undertaking
were gloomy and discouraging, the Mechanic Association, by a most
praiseworthy and vigorous effort, raised new funds for carrying it
forward, and saw them applied with fidelity, economy, and skill. It is a
grateful duty to make public acknowledgments of such timely and
efficient aid.

The last effort and the last contribution were from a different source.
Garlands of grace and elegance were destined to crown a work which had
its commencement in manly patriotism. The winning power of the sex
addressed itself to the public, and all that was needed to carry the
monument to its proposed height, and to give to it its finish, was
promptly supplied. The mothers and the daughters of the land contributed
thus, most successfully, to whatever there is of beauty in the monument
itself, or whatever of utility and public benefit and gratification
there is in its completion.

Of those with whom the plan originated of erecting on this spot a
monument worthy of the event to be commemorated, many are now present;
but others, alas! have themselves become subjects of monumental
inscription. William Tudor, an accomplished scholar, a distinguished
writer, a most amiable man, allied both by birth and sentiment to the
patriots of the Revolution, died while on public service abroad, and now
lies buried in a foreign land.[1] William Sullivan, a name fragrant of
Revolutionary merit, and of public service and public virtue, who
himself partook in a high degree of the respect and confidence of the
community, and yet was always most loved where best kno