The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1892-06-08
DECORATION DAY ADDRESS.
BY REV. JOHN HUFFNAGLR,
Of Stockton. N. j.


Below we give the excellent address
delivered by Rev. Mr.. Huffnagle in this
city on Decoration Day. We are sure
that many will read it with interest. -Ep. I
To-day we celebrate the anniversary of
a nations tribute of honor aud love TO the
memory OF her departed heroes.
In the days Of ancient barbaric splen-
dor, heather monarchs were entombed In
costly vaults and temples days, weeks,
years were consumed, and lavish ex-
penditure of gold from the royal treasury
used, in preparing fitting resting place
for tyrant's remains. The people were
burdened, sacrifices made with an aston
ishing indifference to the value of human
life, and amid the groans OF countless
sacrificial victims, the shouts of the null
titude, the hosannas of dissolute and
pagan court, the funeral procession trav-
ersed the streets Of the cities and high
ways Of the land, on its way to the last
resting place of one who in life was feared,
but in death revered. Monuments were
erected with great labor and infinite skill,
emblazoned with characters eulogizing the
virtues of despot; and to-day the classic
land of Egypt teens with these crumbling
relics, the great connecting links between
pagan and the Christian age of civiliza-
ton.
During the dawning age of human life
upon our globe it was the custom to erect
monumental piles of stone In honor OF
important events, as we learn from the
history of chosen race. 10 the course
OF time the dead were, as we have said,
honored In these magnificent memorials,
that tho memory of a nations rulers
might not fade away from the minds OF
the people. Memory of departed mon
arch was treacherous. The subject OF
to-day became the ruler on the morrow,
alas only wearing on his brow the en-
blem of royalty for brief time, oft falling
to the earth beneath the dagger of the
assassin or the cup of poisoned wine. In
this age, therefore, it was necessary that
the memory Of heroes should be impressed
upon the eye, that the mind could dwell
upon these symbols.
But, thanks be 10 God that in this day
of Christian civilization and refined men,
tai culture, our simple monuments, though
all that art can desire, are but the marking
stones of the honored dead; their blessed
memsry rests no longer in stupendous
piles of sculptured stone, hut in the hearts
of grateful people.
What means this solemn pageantry-
this martial display by our nations de-
tenders, Ia which our citizen populace
joint Is to-day one of rejoicing Have
we left our homes and gathered ourselves
together beneath the folds OF our dear old
flag to-day for idle show and meaningless
ceremonyl Has Nature yielded her rich
store Of floral tributes to the hour that she
may alone delight the eyer Mol thou
sand times, Mol We are here for pur-
pose--one OF the noblest in the heart Of
man. 1t is the occasion dear to the heart
of every American citizen. 1t is the hour
of nations Sutpouring OF love for the
memory of her children who so bravely
shed their life's blood in her defense. 1t
is indeed the day of commemoration. We
celebrate the anniversary OF the birth Of
the great and noble Father OF our country,
and that OF the Declaration of American
Independence, but none more sacred than
this one.
During the past year We have rejoiced
in the blessings OF peace, comfort and
! liberty. II is fitting, then, that we honor
| to-day those who in their death secured
for us a united and prosperous nation.
Tribes, kingdoms, nations have their
histories. Each individual life has its
history from the cradle TO the grave, each
contributing It's part to the whole. Then,
as we tenderly strew the flowers and plant
the beloved flag of our country DER and
upon the graves OF those dear enes, let us
dwell with brotherly love upon the his
| tory Of their noble sacrifice Ia our behalf.
A history, not so sacred because recorded
upon the printed pag :, but rather as it Is
enlhroned within the portals of our hearts,
Many, whose crumbling forms lie en-
tombed 10 our neighboring cemeteries,
were in life my boyhood friends. CHANGING
backward through the avenues of mem
cry / behold once more the days Of my
childhood; In "fancy free" am sporting
with them in the meadows, upon the hill
side, in the woods, on the banks OF the
silvery streams Of old Bucks county; no
cares, no trials nor troubles. Oil how
| little did think that those bright dreams
would be clouded by the ruthless hand OF
| fraternal strife. Soon, however, the great
bulwsrk of American liberty, a Union
which had its covenant sealed In the blood
| OF the heroes of T0, was shaken TO its
| foundations. In moment-in the twink
| ling OF an eye, as 1t were, there came the
sound, $40 arms, to arms !" echong, re-
sounding throughout the land. From the
East TO the West, from the North to the
South, was heard the cry, Warl war
Our brothers have risenl Our home is
divided Our young republic, which had
L g.. 40
none on Gods earth, was 10 danger.
Then there arose 10 the mind of every
American citizen these questions Shall
this glorious Union, for which our fore
fathers, born Of the sunny fields of the
South and the green hills OF the North,
fought and died, be dissolved2 Shall
foreign nations witness the failure OF our
boosted Constitution, one securing home
to all and the enjoyment OF free civil and
religious liberty2 Was the great problem
OF government for the people and by
the people to be declared one engendering
Internal intrigue aud revoutionl Mol
From the graves OF Washington, Putnam,
Greene, there came the cry "Our chill
dren, preserve that for which we fought,
bed, and offered our lives.
The great problems OF that day have
been forever settled. Seated side by side,
the boys in blue and gray peacefully talk
Ger the stirring scenes of the past with
hearts united, knowing no flag but that
one which SO proudly floats to-day DER
the seat OF our good and wise government
and the graves of departed brothers.
To many present to-day the scenes OF
| 1915 have been cleaned from history,
both written and traditional. There are
sons before me whose hearts have often
glowed with an intense interest as they
have listened 10 the oft-told tale Of a
fathers deeds upon the field OF battle, but
are as much strangers TO the sound of the
booming cannon, the thunder OF artillery,
the shrek Of the shell, as II ploughed It's
maddening course through forest and Ger
plain, and the sharp crack OF the rifle, or
the rafting fire of mnsketry, as we are to
the struggling scenes OF 70.
Surviving defenders OF our Union, men,
bers OF G. A. Angel, G. A. r., Post, No.