We stand the latest, and, if we fall, probably the last experiment of self-government by the people. We have begun it under circumstances of the most auspicious nature. We are in the vigor of youth. Our growth has never been checked by the oppression of tyranny. Our constitutions never have been enfeebled by the vice or the luxuries of the world. Such as we are, we have been from the beginning, simple, hardy, intelligent, accustomed to self-government and self-respect. The Atlantic rolls between us and a formidable foe. Within our own territory, stretching through many degrees of latitude, we have the choice of many products, and many means of independence. The government is mild. The press is free. Religion is free. Knowledge reaches or may reach every home. What fairer prospects of success could be presented? What means more adequate to accomplish the sublime end? What more is necessary than for the people to preserve what they themselves have created?
Already has the age caught the spirit of our institutions. It has already ascended the Andes, and snuffed the breezes of both oceans. It has infused itself into the life-blood of Europe, and warmed the sunny plains of France and the lowlands of Holland. It has touched the philosophy of the north, and, moving onward to the south, has opened to Greece the lesson of her better days.
Can it be, that America, under such circumstances, can betray herself? That she is to be added to the catalogue of republics, the inscription upon whose ruin is: “They were, but they are not!” Forbid it, my countrymen: forbid it, Heaven!
I call upon you, fathers, by the shades of your ancestors, by the dear ashes which repose in this precious soil, by all you are, and all you hope to be, resist every project of disunion; resist every attempt to fetter your consciences, or smother your public schools, or extinguish your system of public instruction.
I call upon you, mothers, by that which never fails in woman, the love of your offspring, to teach them, as they climb your knees, or lean on your bosoms, the blessings of liberty. Swear them at the altar, as with their baptismal vows, to be true to their country, and never forsake her.
I call upon you, young men, to remember whose sons you are—whose inheritance you possess. Life can never be too short, which brings nothing but disgrace and oppression. Death never comes too soon, if necessary in defense of the liberties of our country.
MEMORIAL DAY ADDRESS
(An oration delivered in San Francisco, May 30, 1901.)
By Samuel M. Shortridge
This day is consecrate to the nation’s dead and living soldiers. Uncovered beside the hallowed graves of those who fought and fell in the sacred cause of Union and Liberty, a people of brave men and loyal women stand with hearts oppressed with gratitude, and listen to the story of their heroes’ deeds and death. We come in thankfulness—matron and maid, sire and lad—to scatter fragrant flowers on the honored dust, and for the martyrs who sleep unknown but not unwept. We come to grasp the hands of the surviving heroes who responded to their country’s cry of anguish when the temple of liberty was assailed and her sacred altars desecrated; who endured the long, weary march, the cruel deprivations of the camp, the fevered heat of noon and the chilling cold at night; who stormed the frowning heights where treason was intrenched, and met upon an hundred fields the brave but misguided hosts that in madness and folly sought to destroy the edifice dedicated with the prayers and consecrated by the valor and blood of the patriot fathers; who carried the tattered but dear flag of their country through fire and flood and the “valley and shadow of death,” and paused not until it waved victorious in every state and was respected on every sea. We come to shed proud and happy tears for those who gladly gave up all for their imperiled country, in order to preserve the precious fruits of the Revolutionary struggle and to keep the flag of Washington triumphant in the sky. We come to welcome and to dower with our love the loyal and self-sacrificing men who left the plow, the forge, the desk, to rescue from the jaws of death the greatest, best, and truest republic that ever blessed the earth.