The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-05-30
Jerome Bonaparte not Dead.
FROM WASHINGTON.

GsS at .hn h5nstG% e. oaan The Grafton
Despatch to the Associated Press.
WASHINGTON, May 30.-The decoration cere-
monies at Arlington Cemetery to-day were very
impressive. The graves are upon the old Ar
lington estate, at one time the property and
residence of General Robert E. Lee, the Rebel
chieftain. The ceremonies consisted of prayer
by the Rev. DR.. Newman, an original poem by
observation-disclosures Cox of Maryland, the
singing of the grand choral Elm FeSte Burg iSi
unSer Cot, and an grafton by General John A.
Logan. The chorus was rendered by 500 voices,
accompanied by the Marine Band Of Washing
ton, and was strikingly effective. The entire
ceremonies were under the direction of the
Grand Army of the Republic, of which General
Logan is commander-in-chief. The only draw
back to the celebration was the damp condition
of the ground arising from the recent con-
tinued rains but the weather, although the sky
was clouded, was warm and pleasant. The fol-
lowing is
General Logan's Grafton.
Fellow-citizens and Comrades:-Another year
has rolled away into the deep bosom of eter-
nifty, carrying with it all its joys and heartaches
all its pleasures and pains. Another year have
our heroic dead slumbered in their graves, while
we have been enjoying the boon which they
have purchased with their lives. The day has
arrived which first was dedicated by the Grand
Army of the Republic to the memory of their
slain comrades, and soon cheerfully and uniyer-
sally adopted by the loyal American people, to
bow before their sacred shrines. Silence per-
haps, would better beft such an occasion than
all the words mortal tongue can pronounce, for
great thoughts and emotions of the soul disdain
the thraldom of language.
Yonder sleeps the Father of our Country, who
struck from our hands the shackles of foreign
allegiance and oppression Here rest those
who sealed the covenant OF freedom with their
blood, and broke asunder the chains and fetters
of internal bondage and slavery! Can we for
get those dead who perished to save us and
ours from defeat and misery-forget the mar
tyrs of freedom, who offered their own lives
upon the altar of liberty? No! never, while
memory retains her powers or the heart beats
with a Single impulse of love and gratitude!
Comrades can we forget those partners in the
tolls and hardships of war who fell at our side,
and with their fast-failing breath whispered
diving messages of love in our ears for the dear
ones at home? No! mol those dying words are
links of sympathy which no time can sever!
When many a subsequent incident of our lives
shall have been swept away in the ocean of the
past, those dying accents will ring as clear in the
recesses of our memory as if they were but of
yesterday. And although the forms in those
graves are mouldering to dust in silent gloom,
their features are chiseled upon the tablets of
our hearts, and there we shall keep them
changeless and indelible until our pulses cease
to beat forever
Let no one imagine that these comrades are
forgotten because their forms are hidden beneath
the ground This Memorial Day, on which we
decorate their graves with the tokens of our
love and affection, is no idle ceremony with us
to pass away an hour; but it brings back to our
mind in all their viyidness the fearful conflicts
of that terrible war in which they fell as victims
This demonstration with as is no mere formal
act, obliterated as soon as we leave this sacred
spot 1t is holy ovation when we strew oul
floral offerings upon the graves and freshen them
with the dew of our tears. Each solemn teal
thus dropped in sympathy upon this cold sod
swells anew our hearts with indignation against
the hand of treason that dipped its weapons in
their blood.
Nor are we alone in our emotions The aged
father. as he poses his wreath with quiverine
hand upon the mound that covers his beloved
son, mourns with heavy heart. The lonely
mother, kneelipg by the grave of her darling
boy, recalls, in faithful remembrance, that face
once buoyant with health, that form once the
staff of her widowhood, and weeps with us in
silent bitterness. The sisters, gathering around
the last resting-place of dear brother once
the Joy and pride of their heart, the support and
defense of their lives and honor, lnktheir griei
with ours.
Surely this is day of deep solemnity; day
on which the nation lays aside the garments oi
busy life and fashion, and, attired in the weeds
of mourning, gathers around the graves of hel
fallen sons, and laments with bitter tears over
her loss.
| And these tears, shed in true affection for the
sleeping heroes, and in gratitude for the sacri-
| fee they have rendered for our welfare, are
| more precious than the richest diamonds and
rarest pearls deposited in the ancient catacombs
| Let us, then, all unite In the solemn feelings
| of the hour, and tender with our flowers the
warmest sympathies of our souls Let us revive
| our patriotism and love of country by this act,
and strengthen our loyalty by the example o.
the noble dead around us.
Throughout the broad compass of our land
| to-day vast concOurses of true men and womeI
are voluntarily assembled to pay deserved
| homage to the nations heroic dead, and to gar
land their quiet tombs with natures jewels, as
an appropriate tribute of respect and gratitude
But why is it that the great masses on thi
| day pass by many graves, the occupants o
which they have loved and honored in life, an(
with singular unanimity seek our soldiers
| graves alone? The answer of the heart rushe
| up TO the lips in the simple but pathetic re
sponse:-'They fell in defence of our com MOI
country, for the preservation of our free Gov
eminent, and the perpetuation of our nationa
| unity"
Win he who comprehends the meaning of tn,
phrase my country"-he in whose breast
| spark of patriotism burns-ask for a reasol
more ample than this I? o ye noble dead y,
sainted martyrs what weight what dept
of meaning that simple phrase, "My country
had for you! Ye measured its depth with you
lives; ye counted its value with the drops o
your blood. Let not him try to survey tn
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