Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1868-06-27


ard made them sing on their way tc
battle
.In the beauty of the lilies, Christ born the
With glory in his bosom which transfsures you ant
As He died to make holy, let us die to make mcr
While God is marching on
With such inspirations, failure was
impossible. The struggle consecrated
in some degree every man who bore 4
worthy part. But doubly consecrated
were those who received into their own
hearts the fatal shafts that were aimed at
the life of their country.
Fortunate men! Your country lives
because Won died. Your fame is placed
where the breath of calumny can never
reach 1t-where the mistakes of a weary
life can meyer dim its brightness. Com
inc generations will rise up to call you
blessed.
And. now, consider this silent assem-
bIv of the dead. What does it repre-
sent +? Nay, rather, what does it not
represent Here is an epitome of the
war. Here are the sheaves reaped in the
harvest of death from every battlefield
of Virginia. If each grave had a voice
to tell us what its silent tenant saw
and heard OH earth, we might stand still
and hear the whole story of the war
We should hear that the life of one went
ont in the darkness of that first great
disaster, Manassas, which fed like an
eclipse on the nation that another died
of disease while wearily waiting for
winter to end that this one fell on the
field in sight of the spires at Richmond,
little dreaming. that the flag must be car
ried through three more years of blood
before it should be planted in that cita-
del Of treason and that one fell when
the tide Of war had swept us back till
the roar of rebel guns shook the dome
of the capital, and re-cchocd in the cham
bers of the Executive Mansion.
We should hear mingled voices from
the Rappahannock, the Rapdan, the
Chickahominy, and the James-solemn
voices from the Wilderness, and tri-
nmphant shouts from the Shenandoah,
from Petersburg and Five Forks, mingled
with the wide acclaim of victory and
the sweet chorus of returning peace
The voices of these dead are filling the
land ike holy benedictions.
What other place SO fitting for their
last rest :? Here they sleep, in the heart
of i. nation saved by their valor !
The view from this spot bears some
resemblance to that which greets the eye
at Rome, In sight of the Capitoline
Hill, up and across the Tibcr, and over
looking the city is a hill, not rugged nor
lofty, but known as the Vactican Mount.
On its summit at the beginning of the
Christian era, was an imperial circus,
where gladiator slaves died for the sport
of Rome, and where wild beasts fought
with wilder men. In that arena 4 CALI
lean fisherman gave mp his life a sacrifice
for his faith. Probably no human life
was ever so nobly avenged. On the
spot where he rerished was reared the
proudt s. Christian temple ,er reared by
human hands. For its adornmeut the
rich offerings of every cline and kihg-
dom have been contributed. And now
eighteen centuries have passed the
hearts of two hundred million dweilers
on the earth turn toward it with revcr-
ence when they worship God. The trav-
eler, descending from the Appenincs,
s. es the dome of St. Peters rising above
the dcsolate Campagna and the dead city,
! long before the seven hills and ruined
palaces appear to his view. The name
of the dead fisherman has outlived the
glory of tie eternal city. A noble life
crowned with heroic death, rises above
and outlives the pride and pomp and
glory of the mightiest empire OF the
earth .
Seen from the western slope OF our
Capital, in direction, distance, and ap-
pcarance, this spot is not unlike VacticaI
Mount, though the river that flows AT
our feet is larger than hundred Tlbers
Seven years ago, this was the home OF
one who lifted his sword against the llft
of his country, and who became th'
great imperator of the rebellion: Ih'
soil beneath our feet was watered by th'
tears of slaves. The beauty of yonde
proud Capitol awakened in their, hearts
no pride, and brought them no hope
The face of the goddess that crowns I
was turned toward them. But, thank
be to God, this arena of rebellion an'
slavery is scene of violence and crIm
no longer This will be forever the 81
cred mountain of our Capital. Here
our temple It's pavement is the sepul
chre of heroic hearts its dome IS tn
bending heaven, and its altar candles ar
the watching stars. Hither will on
children's children come to pay theI
tribute of grateful homage. For this ar
we met to-day. By the happy .sugge'
ton of a great society,". assemblies hk
this are. gathering at this hour in ever
state of the Union. Thousands OF so
diers are to-day turning aside IN tn
march of lite to visit, the silent eneamI
ment of dead comrades who fought b
their side. di 81 I.E..,.. sitio i'. ~
From many thousand homes who's
light was put ont when a,soldler tel
there go forth to-day, to join these so
emn professions, loving kindred an
friends, from whose hearts the shade
of grief will never be lifted till the llgf
of the eternal world dawns upon then
And here are little children, to whol
the war left no father but the Father
boye.y BY the most sacred right thei
is the chief place to-day. They con
with garlands to crown their victor
thers.0 / will delay the coronation 1