among the nations of the world. The union of these States must be perpetual. That is what our brave boys died for. That is what this monument must mean; and such monuments as this are evidences that the people intend to take care that the great decrees of the war shall be unquestioned and supreme. [Applause.]

The unity of the Republic is secure so long as we continue to honor the memory of the men who died by the tens of thousands to preserve it. The dissolution of the Union is impossible so long as we continue to inculcate lessons of fraternity, unity, and patriotism, and erect monuments to perpetuate these sentiments.

Such monuments as these have another meaning, which is one dear to the hearts of many who stand by me. It is, as Mr. Lincoln said at Gettysburg, that the dead shall not have died in vain; that the Nation's later birth of freedom and the people's gain of their own sovereignty shall not perish from the earth. That is what this monument means. That is the lesson of true patriotism; that what was won in war shall be worn in peace.

But we must not forget, my fellow countrymen, that the Union which these brave men preserved, and the liberties which they secured, place upon us, the living, the gravest responsibility. We are the freest Government on the face of the earth. Our strength rests in our patriotism. Anarchy flees before patriotism. Peace and order and security and liberty are safe so long as love of country burns in the hearts of the people. It should not be forgotten, however, that liberty does not mean lawlessness. Liberty to make our own laws does not give us license to break them. [Applause.] Liberty to make our own laws commands a duty to observe them ourselves and enforce obedience among all others within their jurisdiction. Liberty, my fellow citizens, is responsibility, and responsibility is duty, and that duty is to preserve the exceptional liberty we enjoy within the law and for the law and by the law.

THOMAS RILEY MARSHALL

FAREWELL TO THE SENATE

Thomas Riley Marshall, twenty-eighth Vice President of the United States, was born in North Manchester, Indiana, in 1854. He graduated from Wabash College in 1873, was admitted to the bar in 1875 and was Governor of Indiana from 1909 to 1913. Mr. Marshall has long been widely known as an after-dinner speaker and his occasional addresses while Vice President were distinguished by their pith and humor. The address which follows was his farewell to the Senate made on March 4, 1921. Other speeches by Mr. Marshall are given in Volume II.

SENATORS: Very shortly I shall have ended my official life as the constitutional presiding officer of this body. That moment, when it arrives, will not mark my demotion into the ranks of the average American citizen, for I never arose above them.

I sprang from the loins of men who helped to lay the foundations of the Republic. At my birth my father placed upon my baby brow the coronal of a free-born American citizen. In my youth I was taught that if I wore it worthily, no prince nor potentate nor electorate could add to or detract from the honor of that royal coronet.

I may have failed but I have tried to keep the faith. I have never doubted that, so far as the principles of civil government are concerned, the pillars of Hercules rest upon the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States. To my mind there is no beyond. The forms under which the principles of the Republic are administered may need changes to meet changing conditions but the underlying idea does not, for truth is unchanging and eternal. What was so when the morning stars sang together will be so when the Angel of the Apocalypse appears.

I venture to express this much of that idea: A government

dedicated to the inalienable rights of man to life, to liberty, and to the pursuit of happiness can find its perfect accomplishment only in representatives brave and strong enough to rise above the ambitions, passions, and prejudices of individuals and groups. Representative government was intended to guarantee these inalienable rights of man through the enactment and enforcement of laws calculated to preserve and promote equal and exact justice to all men. Religions die because priests mumble their creeds but have no faith in their gods. Governments go to wreck because their statesmen shout aloud their shibboleths but let a friendly enemy pass the ford.

I freely grant the right of this people to change our form of government and to adopt other basic principles, but, if it is to be done, let it be done decently and directly so that all of us may know it. The old faith has already too many sleek and smiling Joabs asking of it, "Is it well with thee, my brother ?"

While the old order endures let representatives represent the old ideals; let it be understood that they are not mere bell boys, subject to calls for legislative cracked ice every time the victims of a debauch of greed, gambling, or improvidence feel the fever of frenzied need.

The life is more than meat and the body more than raiment. It is of a minor importance who holds the wealth of the Nation if the hearts of all its people beat with true historic American throb. The clothes may mark but the clothes cannot make the gentleman. The economic rehabilitation of America is of vast moment but the rehabilitation of the ancient faith which upheld the ragged Continentals, emerged in pristine glory from the throes of civil war, and hurled its smiling and undaunted face against the grim engines of tyranny upon the fields of France, is a far greater work.

It is enough-perhaps too much. Who am I to suggest, even with shamefaced timidity, anything to you? For eight long years, crowded with events which have forever changed the currents of the world's history, I have been with you. I come to the end of them with a feeling of heartfelt gratitude to you all for those little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and charity which have marked your friendship and good

will. You have been good to me. The odor of your friendship will sweeten any air that I may breathe. Not one of you can wish for himself a kindlier fate than I would give you if I were omnipotent.

I go but you remain. I leave with the same inarticulate cry in my soul with which I came to you: My country. It is no new nor unusual cry for the American, but it has, I fear myriad concepts. To some it means broad acres and fertile fields; to many, opportunity for personal preferment; to a thoughtless few, the right to utter every vagrant word which finds lodgment in a mind diseased; to the half educated, that democracy should be governed as soon by the infant's cry as by the prophet's warning. But to me it is but the composite voice of all the good and wise and self-sacrificing souls who trod or tread its soil, calling for the liberty which is lawencrowned, preaching that doctrine which seeks not its own but the common good and, above all, warning us by the memory of the dead and the hope of the unborn to close our ears to the mouthings of every peripatetic reformer who tells us that the way to sanctify the Republic is to remove every landmark which has hitherto marked the boundaries of national and individual life.

It is no new religion we need. Our creed should be: One Lord, one faith, one baptism-the Lord of Justice, who was with Washington at Valley Forge, Grant and Lee at Appomattox; Pershing on the fields of France; the faith that under a republican form of government alone, democracy permanently can endure; the baptism of that spirit which will not be content until no man is above the penalties and no man beyond the protection of our laws.

Let him who goes and him who stays remember that he who saves his life at the loss of his country's honor, loses it, and he who loses his life for the sake of his country's honor, saves it. [Applause.]

And now, by virtue of the power in me vested, I declare the Senate of the Sixty-sixth Congress of the United States adjourned sine die.