The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1877-06-01


where partings will be no more-where love
and jog nd happiness never eldi
/ In connection with this tribute of respect
tor cur Ia len heroes-the dear fathers. sons
. and hrcthers of Some-the dead comrades of
others present-taere j. ilteTningIec and
1 ace0rnpsnying feeling OF fsadneSs, sorrow,
and wish. III; were possible, that they were
stil! living. Yes, there is a sSdIes and =
sorrow which are but natural. believe it
was eG- own countrymau, Washington Irv-
ing, who said that so-rov Tor the dead is the
only sorTsF from which ze rsirISs to be d.
vorceG. Tsis believe 10 De true. Every
other wound We sex to heal; every other
an. iction We Try TO forget; bac this wound
we seem 10 oonSi,ler our duty 10 keep oDen:
this affiiction We cherish and brood over in
solitude. Why. 5Est think, Where Is the
mother who sould willingly forget the in
FAINT that perished, like blossom from her
arms though every recollection IS a parse
| Where is the child who Eould willingly for
get themOst tender of parents. though 10 Ie-
| member wound be TO LAMENT Who, even in
! the hour OF agony. would forget the friend
over whom he mourns? Who, even when
| the tomb is closing on the remains of her ne
most loved, and when he feels his heart as it
were, crushed III the closing of ITS portal,
would accept consolation that was to be
bought by fergetfuIness: No. the love which
fsurvives the tomb is one of the noblest at
/! tributesofthe soul.
fit has woes, it has likewise its de
lights; and when the overwhelming
burst of grief is Gained into the gentle
tears of recollection; when the anguish
and the convulsive agony over the pres
ent ruins Of all that we most loved, is
softened away into pensive meditation
on all that it was in the days of its lowell
| illness. who would root out such sorrow
| from the human hearth Just such sor
row touches the hearts of many in this
large audience to-day Though it may
sometimes throw passing cloud over
tire brightest hour of gaiety, or spread n
deeper sadness over the hour of gloom.
yet who would exchange it, even for the
song of pleasure, or the burst of revelryl
| No. there is n recollection ofthe dead TO
which we turn, even from the charms of
/ the living. Oh, the grave.-the grave,
1t buries every error; covers every de-
feet; extinguishes every resentment.
! From its peaceful bosom spring none
but fond regretsa and tender recollectiOns.
Who can look Down upon the grave.
even of an enemy, and not feel COM
punctious throb, that even he should
have warred with the poor handful of
earth that lies mouldering before him?
Such feelings Ihave experienced. Such
feelings have been experienced by almost
every soldier of the late war, whether It
was when the 'boys in gray" whofelI on
the battle field were lying before us dead, |
or when the sods were being thrown up
on their bodies Such feelings touched |
the heart of President Lincoln, and those |
who were strewing flowers on the graves !
at Gettysburg, to which have already |
alluded.
But the graves of those we loved |
what place for meditation, There it is !
we call up, in long review, the whole !
history of virtue and gentleness, and
the thousand endearments Iavished |
upon US, almost unheeded, in the daily /
course o. intimacy. There it is that
we dwell upon the tenderness, the sol |
emn. awful tenderness, of the parting /
scene, if we we're permitted to be at /
their side when they breathed their
last. The bed of death with all its
stified griefs; its noiseless attendants;
its mute. watchful assiduities: the last
testimonies of expiring love; the feeble
falterine, thrilling-oh, how thrilling!
pressure of the hand; the last fond
look of the glazing eye, turning upon
us. even from the threshold of exist
ence; the faint, faltering accents
struggling in death to give one more
assurance of affection, Aye, go to the
grave of buried love. and meditstel
There settle the account wit 1 thy con-
fA- r.nCt hanatif I
Quilted, every past endearment unre-
garded, of that being who can never,
never, never return 70 be soothed by
thy contrition!
# thou art a child, and ever added Il
sorrow to tie soul, or a furrow to the
silvered brow of an affectionate parent:
if thou art a husband, and hast ever
caused the fond bosom that ventured
its whole happiness in thy arms TO
doubt, !, in the least, thy kindness and thy
truth; if thou art friend. and hast ev-
er wron2ed in thought. word or deed,
the spirit that generously contided in
thee; if thou art a lover, and hast ever
given one unmerited pang to that true |
heart that now lies cold and still benesth !
thy feet: then be sure that every anEEind |
look, every ungracious word, every TN /
gentle action, will come thronging back !
upon thy memory, and knocking dole !
fully at thy soul; then be sure that yoa
will lie down sorrowing and repenisnt |
upon the grave, and utter the unheard /
groan. and pour the unavailing tear; !
more deep, more bitter because unheard !
and unavailiDg.
Then weave the chaplet of flowers, |
and strew the beauties of nature around !
aud about, and upon the grave; is is
right and proper; it is 4 teautiful and
honor ed custom. 1t shows our love for |
the dead; it expresses that sorrow from |
which we refuse to be divorced, as Irv- !
lug called it.
The honored dead, whose memories
We this day coDsecrate, died for, and /
gave their lives as a part of tile price of,
Lbertv. Let me quote a paragraph
from the pen of Henry Giles. He said
Liberty has, directly and indirectly,
occasioned a vast amount of suffering;
liberty of country, liberty of conscience,
liberty of person. 1t has cost much
endurance; it has been bought with a
great price. Trace it along the line of
centuries; mark the prisons where cap
tives .or il pined; mark the graves TO
which victims for it went down despair
ing; mark the fields whereon its heroes
battled; mark tie seas whereon they
fought; mark the exile to which they
fed, or were driven; add then the open
sufferings of those who have left no
record; Imagine, il you can, the whole;
then you have the price, only in part.
OF Liberty. for Liberty has cost all
these. l
But my friends, thought suggests
itself: let us think a moment. Is Lib
erty worth what it has cost? Isit value