into the world on board
the Mayflower between the time of the casting of her anchor and the
landing of her passengers--a kind of amphibious prophecy that the
new-born nation was to have a birthright inheritance over the sea and
over the land. [Great applause.] There, also, was Rose Standish, whose
name is a perpetual June fragrance, to mellow and sweeten those December
winds. And there, too, was Mrs. Winslow, whose name is even more than a
fragrance; it is a taste; for, as the advertisements say, "children cry
for it"; it is a soothing syrup. [Great laughter.]

Then, after the first vessel with these women, there came other
women--loving hearts drawn from the olden land by those silken threads
which afterwards harden into golden chains. For instance, Governor
Bradford, a lonesome widower, went down to the sea-beach, and, facing
the waves, tossed a love-letter over the wide ocean into the lap of
Alice Southworth in old England, who caught it up, and read it, and
said, "Yes, I will go." And she went! And it is said that the governor,
at his second wedding, married his first love! Which, according to the
New Theology, furnishes the providential reason why the first Mrs.
Bradford fell overboard! [Great laughter.]

Now, gentlemen, as you sit to-night in this elegant hall, think of the
houses in which the Mayflower men and women lived in that first winter!
Think of a cabin in the wilderness--where winds whistled--where wolves
howled--where Indians yelled! And yet, within that log-house, burning
like a lamp was the pure flame of Christian faith, love, patience,
fortitude, heroism! As the Star of the East rested over the rude manger
where Christ lay, so--speaking not irreverently--there rested over the
roofs of the Pilgrims a Star of the West--the Star of Empire; and to-day
that empire is the proudest in the world! [Applause.] And if we could
summon up from their graves, and bring hither to-night, that olden
company of long-mouldered men, and they could sit with us at this
feast--in their mortal flesh--and with their stately presence--the whole
world would make a pilgrimage to see those pilgrims! [Applause.] How
quaint their attire! How grotesque their names! How we treasure every
relic of their day and generation! And of all the heirlooms of the
earlier times in Yankeeland, what household memorial is clustered round
about with more sacred and touching associations than the
spinning-wheel! The industrious mother sat by it doin