We need not be over-modest in Boston when we speak of such men and such times. American independence was born in our old Statehouse. Sam Adams was the father of American independence. Liberty was cradled in this hall. Franklin and Adams, of those who drew the Declaration, were born here. John Hancock was sent to preside over that Assembly, and accepted bravely the honors and the perils of his great position. I could not anywhere give any history, however succinct, of the Declaration; I could not account for the America of to-day without saying all this,-no, not if I were addressing the Shah of Persia in his palace in Ispahan.

I believe, if I were in your Honor's chair next January, on one of those holidays which nobody knows what to do with, I would commemorate the first great victory of 1775. To do this well, I would issue an order that any schoolboy in Boston who would bring his sled to School Street, might coast down hill all day there, in memory of that famous coasting in January, 1775, when the Latin School boys told the English general that to coast on School Street was their right "from time immemorial," and when they won that right from him.

We have made a pleasure park of the Old Fort Independence, thanks, I believe, to our friend Mr. O'Neil. Let no man take his sweetheart there, where sheep may be grazing between the useless cannon, without pointing out to her the birth of the Somerset on St. Botolph's day, the day democracy began her march around the world. Let him show her the bastions on Dorchester heights. Let him say to her: "It was here that Lord Percy gathered the flower of King George's army to storm the heights yonder. And it was from this beach that they left Boston forever."

When he takes her to his old schoolhouse he shall ask first to see the handwriting of some of our old boys-of Franklin, of Sam Adams, of John Hancock, of Paine, of Bowdoin, and of Hooper. They shall not stop the car at Hancock Street without a memory of the man who signed the Declaration. They shall cross the pavement on Lynde Street, and he shall say: "These stones have been red with blood from Bunker Hill." And when this day of days comes round, the first festival in our calendar, the best boy of our High School, or of our Latin School, shall always read to us the Declaration in which the fathers announced the truth to the world.

And shall this be no homage to the past-worship deaf and dumb? As the boy goes on his errand he shall say: "To such duty I, too, am born. I am God's messenger.' As the young man tells the story to his sweetheart, he shall say: "We are God's children also, you and I, and we have our duties." They look backward only to look forward. "God needs me that this city may still stand in the forefront of his people's land. Here am I, God may draft me for some special duty, as he drafted Warren and Franklin. Present! Ready for service? Thank God I came from men who were not afraid in battle. Thank God I was born from women whose walk was close to him. Thank God, I am his son." And she shall say: "I am his daughter."

He has nations to call to his service. "Here am I."

He has causeways to build for the march forward of his people. "Here am I."

There are torrents to bridge, highways in deserts. "Here am I."

He has oceans to cross. He has the hungry world to feed. He has the wilderness to clothe in beauty. "Here am I." God of heaven, be with us as thou wert with these fathers. God of heaven, we will be with thee, as the fathers were.

THE HAYNE-WEBSTER DEBATE.

SPEECH OF MR. HAYNE,

In the Senate, on Mr. Foote's Resolution, Thursday, January 21, and Monday, January 25, 1830.

WHEN I took occasion, Mr. President, two days ago, to throw out some ideas with respect to the policy of the government in relation to the public lands, nothing certainly could have been further from my thoughts than that I should be compelled again to throw myself upon the indulgence of the Senate. Little did I expect to be called upon to meet such an argument as was yesterday urged by the gentleman from Massachusetts [Mr. Webster]. Sir, I questioned no man's opinions, I impeached no man's motives, I charged no party, or State, or section of country with hostility to any other; but ventured, I thought in a becoming spirit, to put forth my own sentiments in relation to a great national question of public policy. Such was my course. The gentleman from Missouri [Mr. Benton], it is true, had charged upon the Eastern States an early and continued hostility toward the West, and referred to a number of historical facts and documents in support of that charge. Now, sir, how have these different arguments been met? The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, after deliberating a whole night upon his course, comes into this chamber to vindicate New England; and, instead of making up his issue with the gentleman from Missouri on the charges which he had preferred, chooses to consider me as the author of those charges, and, losing sight entirely of that gentleman, selects me as his adversary and pours out all the vials of his mighty wrath upon my devoted head. Nor is he willing to stop there. He goes on to assail the institutions and policy of the South, and calls in question the principles and conduct of the State which I have the honor to represent. When I find a gentleman of mature age and experience, of acknowledged talents and profound sagacity, pursuing a course like this, declining the contest from the West and making war upon the unoffending South, I must believe, I am bound to believe, he has some object in view that he has