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SPEECH   OF

GEORGE   W.  VAN  SICLEN.

RANJE BOVEN! Oeanje Boven!
Oeanje Boven ! That was the war-
cry of your forefathers, under which
they achieved victory. Let me hear
you utter it—three times. Now !
[The three hundred gentlemen
present sprang to their feet and took up the cry,
"Oeanje Boven! Oeanje Boven! Obanje Boven!"]
Was it not a happy omen, when your Secretary
last summer returned to the land of his forefathers,
after an absence of more than two hundred and fifty
years, that, as the steamship neared the shore, a
group of peasants came running down, waving their
hats and shouting, and the words that came as greet¬
ing were the words of that old war-cry, " Oeanje
Boven !   Oeanje Boven !   Oeanje Boven !"

It thrilled my heart, and as I stood on the deck it
seemed that the air and the skies parted, and I saw
the spirits of our forefathers in deadly combat with
the Spaniards, and there fell upon my ear, like the
echo of a memory, " Oranje Boven ! Oranje Boven !
Oranje Boven ! "