Evening star., 1895-05-30
Lieut.. Lucfen Young.

| Lieut.. Lucien Young.
you who are left, though your hands trem-
| Bile with age, will today strew flowers upon
| the host Of valiant brothers who rest from
the tolls OF life in that deep, long sleep
| whose reveille shall be the resurrection.
| Silent, still and undisturbad is their rest in
| this consecrated place, overlooking the cap
| ital Of the nation. They laid their honor.
| their patriotism, their integrity and their
| fortunes upon the country's altar, and
sealed those gifts with their blood and rat
ified them with their death. Sleep on. we
| fallen ones! No willy foe can burst upon
your camping ground, or drive you from
your lonely bivouac. while the great Poto-
mac chants your eternal requiem, and
| Gods angels keep watch and ward above
your graves.
| When you are all gone we of this genera
| tion and those coming on, will guard these
| graves with sacred vigilance. and permit
no wanton foot to tread lightly on their
| hallowed ground, no vandalism, no avar-
| ice, no neglect and no ravages of time shall
bear witness that we have forgotten the
cost of free and united republic.
Over the ashes of these quiet seepers will
be kindled anew, each year, the perpetual
| fires Of eternal greatness.
Foundations of Nationality.
The heroes of the country, alive or dead.
constitute the foundation of American ma
| tionality, and as heroism is by divine reve-
| lation the tie which binds great men to
| other men it unites US today with every
| hero on the land and in the sea who fell for
| his country, making US a nation in which
| the states of this Union will, like the stars
| Of the great planetary system, hereafter
differ from each other only in glory, while
revolving around that celestial sun,
splendent with the living light to irradiat te
the world with the sublime doctrine Of
divine right of the people to self-govern-
ment.
great curtain which separates the present
from the future, and we are profoundly
ignorant of the events of gladness or sad
ness that lie across our national pathway.
If the dead past were left to bury its dead
the morrow would bear no blossoms of
hope; its weird branches would sway in un-
fruitful nakedness before u.s. whitening
every aspiration. striking to palsy every
ambition, suffocating every generous inn
pulse of the SOUL The yesterdays of time
Nave fretted their traces on the shores Of
eternity since eternity began. No day was
ever without it's yesterday; no day shall
ever live unlinked with a tomorrow, until
the sun and its vaster system has grown
feeble from sheer old age and died of in
anition.
Without the promise of a tomorrow We
should die today of despair: without a yes
terday there could be no today: in the pres
ent alone We cannot live. Today is already
spent-we live and execute in the tomor-
row. We toss from hand to hand, we gather
and number and fondle the accomplish
ments, the trophies, of yesterday. We are
enlightened and directed by the accumu-
lated wisdom of the ages that have flown.
To forget the past Is to abandon hope Of
the future. To allow these graves to be
overgrown with the brambles Of neglect
would be to become Indifferent to the per-
manence of the republic
Americans of the Future.
Who and what manner Of men shall they
be? They shall not speak to us. but we
may communicate to them our hopes and
aspirations. we may hold communion with
them as our fathers have with us, We may
transmit to them that one lesson which
has been echoed down to us through all
the sounding canons of time-that liberty
Is to be had only at the price Of unsleeping
vigilance; that its watch fires, once suf-
fered through the temptation Of inexpedi-
ency or the neglect that comes of over
confidence to grow cold in extinction, re
never again to be famed into life and
flame.
The message which our fathers have left
us was emphasized and impressed in the
awful roar of cannon, whose thunder We
may fancy is yet family but distinctly
echoing around this restful spot This is
the message which yon towering shaft of
white proclamS; this Is the message which
yon glorious figure of bronze crowning its
majestic dome delivers from the very vault
of heaven. This is the assurance and the
prayer that exhales like perfume waited
on the breath of spring. floating on the
bosom of the evening, aromatic in all the
verdure of the years tenderest youth,
murmured in the whisperings Of the breezes.
NlellOWeU III tle FtHecleu IN llS
blue heavens mingled in the odors of this
plain strewn deep in flowers, that come 10
us from the restful. glorious files and
platoons and regiments of heroes who for
ever encamp within these more than holy
confines.
Would you in patriotic pilgrimage behold
with enraptured vision. touch with reyer-
ent hand, slake a thirsty soul aglow with
love of country, before the palpable real
ity of the sacred corner stone of the re-
splendent shrine of our freedom? Would
you gaze entranced upon the foundation
of the Pantheon Of our liberty, which has
Quickened and developed such wondrous
political and economic results, which has
within SO brief a space transformed con-
tinent Of wilderness into a mighty repub-
lie. instinct with progress. stored with all
can YIELD and over all of which arches
the rainbow of sweet content? Seek 1t
not in yelowing scroll nor fading script,
in cunning marble nor fashioned
bronze, seek it not under yon proud palace
Of cleaning white; not in monument. coll
umn nor statue. There is but one founda-
ton; its corner stones are many. They
are these wreathed headstones that CLEAN
in honor above these veterans discharged.
who, dying for liberty's sake, enjoy an
equality Of glory. Here rests the founoa-
ton of our freedom and equality. Here ID
the shrine of all our glory.
Then never let the graves OF our patriot
dead be forgotten by the hand OF anec.
ton. Let the sepulchre OF the brave %
made worthy resorts Of weeping freedom.
Let the solid stone tablets brood over the
sIumberjnx bodies of our fallen heroes LeS
the marble shafts spring above their ousX
dwelling places. Let the morning ana
evening sun play upon these grassy inounoe
symbolic of the showery benedicuons OF