The chariot wheels of civilization have ever been lubricated with human blood; and gory battle fields have ever been the waymarks of human progressthis is the law of civilization. Enter a yet higher realm. You hear him who is above all, say, "The hour is come that the Son of man shall be glorified." But how is he to be glorified? "Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground, and die, it abideth alone; but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit." No truth is more historic than that of vicarious sacrifice-of some suffering, and dying, that others may live and be happy. "No man liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto himself." Let us learn, then, as another lesson of this hour, that unselfishness, and generous public spirit are the conditions and measure of our usefulness-that, being such debtors to the past, we have no right to live selfish lives-that he who does not contribute to the common weal, as he has received from it, goes to his grave a defaulter in trusts more sacred than funds and stocks. The debt we owe to the past, we are to pay to the future. Already, hands are stretched out to us, authorized to receive God's per cent on the blessings we enjoy. "Not to ourselves are we living; Not to ourselves do we die. Freely receiving and giving, Soul after soul marches by. Parts of one mighty procession, Stretching from Eden's first dawn, On through long curves of progression, 'Til in the future 'tis gone- Gone from earth's ken, past heart-beat and breath No memorial service for the dead can be sincerely observed which does not more deeply impress us with the sacredness of the trusts they have left to our keeping. True honor to the dead soldier is closely bound up with conscientious fidelity to his surviving comrades. They are among us, maimed, crippled, sightless, bearing all sorts of disabilities as the result of their service in the war. As they drop into their graves from these disabilities, we deem them worthy of like honor to those who died in battle. Far more pleasing to them shall be the tokens of recognition and reward that are ministered to them while they are living, than honors when they are dead. It has been said that "Westminster Abbey and monumental Greenwood are the world's atttempt to atone by honors to the dead, for wrongs to the living." Let not Decoration Day come into this condemnation. There are those participating in these ceremonies who will live into a generation which shall regard with peculiar reverence the surviving soldier of the war of the rebellion. Are they worthy of less honor because not now objects of curiosity? All honor then to these brave veterans who are still among us, as connecting links between the present and the past; and as one by one they go to join their comrades in the "silent land," may men arise to take their places, who will be as brave and true to the future as they have been to the past. But our heroic dead have bequeathed to us a trust more sacred still-more sacred to us than their memories or their comrades, as it was more sacred to them than their lives. If these dead soldiers could speak to us from their graves, I think they would say, "We are not so careful that you should perpetuate our names, as that you shall guard the nation's honor for which we fought. We are not so much concerned that you should cherish our memories, as that you shall cherish the principles for which we laid down our lives." There is cause for rejoicing in that the bitterness and animosity engendered by the war is so rapidly disappearing, and that we seem to be approaching a national unity, never yet realized in the history of this country. Yet this very fact imperils the principles which were at issue during the war. I honor the bravery of the men who fought against us. I believe most of them were honest in their convictions. Yet we must remember that neither honesty in embracing convictions, nor bravery in defending them, can make men's convictions right, or their principles true. Passions cool, prejudices change with situation, men die, and are forgotten; but truths and principles are apart from all these, and do not die or change. A man's honesty may be sufficient apology for his espousal of a cause, but it does not make that cause right or excusable. The American people need to remember that the Trojans resisted a siege of ten years, and then fell before the stratagem of the wooden horse. It has been said that "Peace hath its victories, not less renowned than war." It has also its emergencies not less perilous, and its defeats not less disastrous. Let us beware, lest the scheming politician, in his selfish lust for place and gain, shall deceive us into a surrender of that which an armed host was unable to wrest from us. A nation, so valiant upon the battle field should stand invincible against every foe-upon the moral and political field as well as on the fields of war. I do not forget that the spirit and sentiments for which I am now pleading are so well guarded and emphasized by the two distinguished societies under whose auspices we have met to-day—the Grand Army of the Republic and the Woman's Relief Corps. The honorable place which public opinion has accorded these societies shows how widely the popular heart responds to these sentiments. I only ask the perpetuity of these conditions, and we shall thus render permanent the fruits of the war. At the close of the war, when the armies of the rebellion had surrendered, it was well known that the surrender did not carry with it the feeling of disloyalty among the southern people. At that moment a vexing problem presented itself to thoughtful men -how can a people so divided in their convictions, convictions intensified by the sacrifices of war, ever again become so united in heart as to be in fact one people? We now stand far enough from the war to foresee the solution of this problem. One evening, while the two armies were facing each other across the Rappahannock, the military bands on each side of the river were rendering their favorite national airs. When the Confederate bands played "Dixie," the southern soldiers cheered. Then the Union bands played "Hail Columbia," and the Union army cheered. After the bands had thus answered each other back and forth, some band began playing "Home Sweet Home." As soon as the tune was detected, all the bands joined, and when it was finished both armies together set up a shout that made the valleys ring. This is a picture of the way in which this problem is being solved. Not by accusation, reply, and rejoinder, but by the timely on-coming of issues and enterprises, apart from the matters in dispute, and of common interest to both sections of the country. With the return of peace came a time of unparalleled activity. Vast and fertile domains invited settlement; great commercial and manufacturing enterprises sprang into existence; marvelous inventions with surprising rapidity revolutionized the mechanical agencies of the country. A new generation has come to the front identified with these new conditions, rather than with the old. In this I find both explanation and prophecy of the fast approaching unification of the two, once hostile sections of this country. You have but to recur to history, to be reminded how |