That flag is the emblem of a supreme will--of a Nation's power. Beneath its folds the weakest must be protected and the strongest must obey. It shields and canopies alike the loftiest mansion and the rudest hut. That flag was given to the air in the Revolution's darkest days. It represents the sufferings of the past, the glories yet to be; and like the bow of heaven, it is the child of storm and sun. This day is sacred to the great heroic host who kept this flag above our heads,--sacred to the living and the dead--sacred to the scarred and maimed,--sacred to the wives who gave their husbands, to the mothers who gave their sons. Here in this peaceful land of ours,--here where the sun shines, where flowers grow, where children play, millions of armed men battled for the right and breasted on a thousand fields the iron storms of war. These brave, these incomparable men, founded the first Republic. They fulfilled the prophecies; they brought to pass the dreams; they realized the hopes, that all the great and good and wise and just have made and had since man was man. But what of those who fell? There is no language to express the debt we owe, the love we bear, to all the dead who died for us. Words are but barren sounds. We can but stand beside their graves and in the hush and silence feel what speech has never told. They fought, they died; and for the first time since man has kept a record of events, the heavens bent above and domed a land without a serf, a servant or a slave. DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. * Empty sleeves worn by veterans with scanty locks and grizzled mustaches graced the Metropolitan Opera House last night. On the breasts of their faded uniforms glittered the badges of the legions in which they had fought and suffered, and beside them sat the wives and daughters, whose hearts had ached at home while they served their country at the front. Every seat in the great Opera House was filled, and hundreds stood, glad to And any place where they could see and hear. And the gathering and the proceedings were worthy of the occasion. Mr. Depew upon taking the chair said that he had the chief treat of the evening to present to the audience, and that was Robert G. Ingersoll, the greatest living orator, and one of the great controversialists of the age. Then came the orator of the occasion Col. Ingersoll, whose speech is printed herewith. Enthusiastic cheers greeted all his points, and his audience simply went wild at the end. It was a grand oration, and it was listened to by enthusiastic and appreciative hearers, upon whom not a single word was lost, and in whose hearts every word awoke a responsive echo.