w Citizens:_

In this presence, and on this sacred and memorable day, in the deeds and
death of our hero, we recall the old, old story, ever old yet ever new,
that when it was the will of the Father to lift humanity out of
wretchedness and bondage, the precious task was delegated to Him who,
among ten thousand, was altogether lovely, and was willing to make
himself of no reputation that he might save and lift up others.

If that heart could throb and if those lips could speak, what would be
the sentiment and words that Robert Gould Shaw would have us feel and
speak at this hour? He would not have us dwell long on the mistakes, the
injustice, the criticisms of the days

"Of storm and cloud, of doubt and fears,
Across the eternal sky must lower;
Before the glorious noon appears,"

he would have us bind up with his own undying fame and memory and retain
by the side of his monument, the name of John A. Andrews, who, with
prophetic vision and strong arm, helped to make the existence of the
54th Regiment possible; and that of George L. Stearns, who, with hidden
generosity and a great sweet heart, helped to turn the darkest hour into
day, and in doing so, freely gave service, fortune, and life itself to
the cause which this day commemorates. Nor would he have us forget those
brother officers, living and dead, who by their baptism in blood and
fire, in defense of union and freedom, gave us an example of the highest
and purest patriotism.

To you who fought so valiantly in the ranks, the scarred and scattered
remnant of the 54th Regiment, who, with empty sleeve and wanting leg,
have honored this occasion with your presence, to you, your commander is
not dead. Though Boston erected no monument and history recorded no
story, in you and the loyal race which you represent Robert Gould Shaw
would have a monument which time could not wear away.

But an occasion like this is too great, too sacred for mere individual
eulogy. The individual is the instrument, national virtue the end. That
which was 300 years being woven into the warp and woof of our democratic
institutions could not be effaced by a single battle, as magnificent as
was that battle; that which for three centuries had bound master and
slave, yea, North and South, to a body of death, could not be blotted
out by four years of war, could not be atoned for by shot and sword, nor
by blood and tears.

Not many days ago in the heart of the South, in a large gat