Not men and women of America, not even young men and young women of America, but girls and boys! You who carry the un- blunted swords of ten-to-seventeen, you are the ones who are the hope of the world. Not to die for the world, but to live for it, to think for it, to work for it; to keep sharp and un-stained by rust the splendid sword of the spirit! It is not only because you are yourselves fine and true and upright and daring and free, Young America, that the world finds its hope in you. The world knows the men, the great deeds, and the principles greater than men or deeds, that have made this America of yours and mine. The world knows that in you, whether your ancestors came over in the Mayflower three hundred years ago, or in the steerage of a liner twenty years ago, lives the spirit of a great tradition. The world puts its hope in you, but not only in you. It puts its hope in the great ghosts that stand behind you, upholding your arms, whispering wisdom to you, patience, perseverance, courage, crying, "Go on, Young America! Weback you up!" Washington, first of all! And around him, Putnam, Warren, Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Hamilton, Jefferson, Marshall, Greene, Stark! You remember Stark? Stark held the rail fence at Bunker Hill. Morris going from house to house, collecting dollars for the starved Continentals; Ben Franklin, in France, fighting to win friends for the new nation! They are behind you! And there is Marion with his men living in the wilderness like Robin Hood in Sherwood. Look behind you, Young America! Bainbridge, Preble, Decatur! Hull of the Constitution which whipped the Cuerriere; Perry of Lake Erie; McDonough of Lake Champlain, gallant men all, stand behind you. Jackson is there; Jackson who whipped the troops that whipped Napoleon; that sturdy fighter for free speech, who died with his boots on in the halls of Congress—John Quincy Adams—is behind you! Union, one and indissoluble! You remember? Webster said that. Webster is behind you. Clay is behind you ! Rogers and Clark are behind you, Fremont, Daniel Boone, Kit Carson, Sam Houston, Davy Crockett. You remember? The frontiersmen, the Indian fighters, the pioneers are behind you, dauntless of spirit; the colonists of Virginia, Massachusetts, Connecticut, the new Netherlands, the Carolinas; the settlers in wild lands, pressing westward to Ohio, to Illinois, to Kansas, to California, men and women, unafraid, clear-eyed; the brave builders of the West are behind you, Young America, upholding your hands! It is a greatarmy of ghosts, Young America, that stands back of you! And there, Sherman, Sheridan, Meade, Thomas, Farragut, Grant, silent, tenacious, magnanimous! Stonewall Jackson, Stuart, Lee! And in the midst of them, the greatest of all, Lincoln, with his hand on your shoulder, Young America, saying, "Sonny, I'm with you. Go on!" There's Patrick Henry! Can't you hear his words echoing down the dark places? "Is life so dear, or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of slavery?" Glorious ghost! Thank God, we have proved at last that we have not forgotten him! Heroes all, Young America, as far as the eye can reach! And beyond them, into the gray distance, the heroes without name—in war, the soldiers, the sailors, the nurses, the women who waited at home; in peace, the school-teachers, the scientists, the parsons, the physicians, the workers in slums; thefighters everywhere for justice, for truth, for light; for clean cities, clean business, clean government!

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