Boston, June 16th, 1876.
To Captain Willard Glazier:
Dear Sir and Comrade:
The undersigned comrades of "John A. Andrew" Encampment, Post 15, Department of Massachusetts, G. A. R., desire to testify to the pleasure afforded them by your lecture delivered at Tremont Temple on May 8th; also, to return their thanks for the liberal donation presented to this Post; and at the same time to express the hope that you may be successful in your object and journey.
[Signed.]
Theodore L. Kelly, Commander.
Edward F. Rollins, Adjutant.
W. Brooks Frothingham.
James T. Price.
Frank Bowman.
Theodore L. Baker.
Thomas Langham.
J. Henry Brown.
George W. Powers, Chaplain.
Robert W. Storer, Q. M. S.
Oliver Downing.
James Mclean.
William S. Wallingford.
Before proceeding with our account of the journey, let us dwell for a moment upon the features of the lecture prepared by Willard Glazier for delivery at Boston. As might have been expected, it was a military-historical lecture, adapted to the understanding and taste of a mixed and educated audience, and was written in the same earnest, original, patriotic and rousing style that characterizes his writings throughout. Some parts of this lecture, in our opinion, are worthy of comparison with the oratorical deliverances of eminent and practised lecturers, and that the reader may judge for himself if the "Echoes of the Revolution" lose aught of their sonorousness at this distant date, when the reverberation reaches them through a lecture, we here present an abstract of the opening:
INTRODUCTORY.
"The year 1876 re-echoes the scenes and events of a hundred years ago. In imagination we make a pilgrimage back to the Revolution. We visit the fields whereon our ancestors fought for liberty and a Republic. We follow patriots from Lexington to Yorktown. I see them walking through a baptism of blood and of fire; their only purpose liberty; their only incentive duty; their only pride their country; and their only ambition victory. I see them with Warren and Prescott at Bunker Hill; I see them with Washington at Valley Forge, hatless, without shoes, half-clad, and often without food; encamped in fields of snow; patiently enduring the rigors of a northern winter. I see them pushing their way through the ice of the Delaware. I see them at Saratoga, at Bennington, at Princeton, and at Monmouth. I follow Marion and his daring troopers through the swamps of Georgia and the Carolinas. And, finally, we come to that immortal day at Yorktown, when Cornwallis surrendered his sword and command to George Washington.