The Irish standard., 1886-05-22
is NOT DEAD.
It Still Lives to Console and Sanctify
Humanity, and Has It's Altar in
Every CLINE.
WILLIAM TELL, THE PATRIOT,
Lives There a Man With Soul 80 Dead Who
Never to Himself Hath Said, This is
My Own, Ny Native Land"


Hughes, by special request:
Bereft Of patriotism the heart of ana
tion will be cold, cramped and sorbid !;
the heart will have no enduring i'm
pulse and commerce no invigorating
soul; society will degenerate, and the
mean and vicious triumph. Patriotism
is not wild and glittering passion, but
a glorious reality. The virtue that
gave to Paganism It's dazzling lustre, to
barbarism it's redeeming trait, to Chris
tianity it's heroic form, is not dead. 1t
still lives to console, to sanctify human
ity. 1t has it's altar in every cline, it's
worship and festivities. On the green
hills of lovely Erin are and ever will be
held in sweetest memories the names Of
O'Connell, Emmett and Father Mat
thew. On the heathered hills of Scot
land, the sword of Wallace is yet a
bright tradition. The genius OF
France, in the brilliant literature Of
the day pays it's homage to the plety
and heroism of the young Maid of Or
leans. In the gay and graceful capital
of Belgium the daring hand Of Greefs
has reared monument full of glorious
meaning to the hundred martyrs of the
revolution. BY the soft blue waters of
Lake Lucerne stands the chapelof Will
liam Tell. On the anniversary Of his
revolt and victory across those waters.
as they glitter in the July sun, skim
the light boats Of the allied Cantons !;
from the bows hang the banners Of the
Republic, and, as they near the sacred
spot, the daughters of Lucerne chant
the hymns Of their old poetic land:
Then bursts nth the glad Tie Deum,
and heaven again hears the voice of
that wild chivalry of the mountains
which five centuries since pierced the
white eagle of Vienna and flung it
bleeding on the rocks Of Uri. Such is
patriotism in the old land. Although
of much interest, is not as interesting
to us as that of this our own new west
ern land. With what patriotism do we
hold in memory the name and fame of
the great explorer. Christopher Colum-
bus, who sailed out on the wild billows
OF the Atlantic, where angry waves
never before upheld the frail craft of
man, and after a long. tedious and un-
certain voyage discovered this fair
land, which we all love so dearly.
trio n In n
speak of those noble heroes, who threw
off the tyrant's yoke, and with sword in
hand demanded of England the freedom
of this their native land and by their
bravery in cruel war of eight years
compelled the old land to grant them
that freedom which we all now enjoy
and who in 1872 shattered and scat
tered that boasted English navy who
were preying upon our commerce, and
who also shattered her invading arm
les, which tried to wrench our liberties
from us, and whose bravery has caused
that old land to look upon us as a great
and noble nation, the land Of the brave
and the home of the free.
With what patriotism Go we COM
memorate the heroes of the Mexican
war, who drove the invaders from our
fair land, and with roaring artillery
shook and battered down the great
walls of their cities, and caused them
to grant us reparation for the wrongs
they had done us to add TO our domain
the richest Of their lands, and which
has made them peaceful neighbors.
Behold our patriotism in commemora-
tion of our gallant sons of Liberty, Who
arose to the defense of the Union in
1861, when separation threatened us,
and all nations were looking to and ex-
pecting the downfall of the great Re-
public, and by a desperate struggle Of
four years of bloody war, one of the
bloodiest wars in the history Of the
world drove the curse of slavery from
our fair land and made the Union
stronger and greater, so that all ma
tions look upon us as a great, noble ma
tion, one and inseparable. And the
patriotism which causes us on each
memorable day, with loving hands, to
pluck the tairest flowers of the land,
and with slow and measured step we
march by the mournful notes of the
funeral dirge to the churchyards, and
there, with sorrowing heart and fearful
eye, kneel and bend over those green
mounds that mark our heroes resting
place, and place thereon these sweetest
memories, wreathed in garlands Of red,
white and blue; and on each Independ-
ence day, as the sun rises DER the At
lantic and sends its warm rays out over
this fair land, ecelvlng a salute from
liberty guns, which re-echoes through