shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in
heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments
of a once glorious Union: on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent:
on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal
blood. Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the
gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the
earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their
original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, or a single star
obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as 'What
is all this worth?' nor those other words of delusion and folly, 'Liberty
first and Union afterwards'; but everywhere, spread all over in characters
of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the
sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that
other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, 'Liberty and Union,
now and forever, one and inseparable.'"

HENRY CLAY

If there be any description of rights, which, more than any
other, should unite all parties in all quarters of the Union, it
is unquestionably the rights of the person. No matter what his
vocation, whether he seeks subsistence amid the dangers of the
sea, or draws it from the bowels of the earth, or from the
humblest occupations of mechanical life--wherever the sacred
rights of an American freeman are assailed, all hearts ought to
unite and every arm be braced to vindicate his cause.
--Henry Clay

[Illustration: HENRY CLAY]

There is a story told of an Irishman and an Englishman who were immigrants
aboard a ship that was coming up New York Harbor. It chanced to be the
fourth day of July, and as a consequence there was a needless waste of
gunpowder going on, and many of the ships were decorated with bunting that
in color was red, white and blue.

"What can all this fuss be about?" asked the Englishman.

"What's it about?" answered Pat. "Why, this is the day we run you out!"

And the moral of the story is that as soon as an Irishman reaches the
Narrows he says "we Americans," while an Englishman will sometimes
continue to say "you Americans" for five years and a day. More than this,
an Irish-American citizen regards an English-American citizen with
suspicion and refers to him as a foreigner, even unto the third and fourth
generation.

No man ever h