Each fight was victory, he held the rein- To break the fetter, to unchain the slave, To stay the storm then sweeping o'er the brave, To bid the powers of red sedition cease Their work of blood and crown the land with peace. Goddess of Freedom, with thy native grace, He bore thy standard, wore thy starry shield, And did thy bidding on the battle-field; When banded anarchists would overwhelm When freedom's sun did his bright presence shroud When moon and stars seemed all eclipsed and dim, The monument that marked the conflict's close. Oh star-gemmed flag! now drcoping at half-mast. Oh starry flag! enfold the hero's breast, Oh heaven-gemm'd banner, to his heart so dear, Oh! spirits of our soldiers dead Who rest upon the higher plain, Who for our land and freedom bled, He goes to join your august train That camps before the great white throne; Such welcome as befits the brave- Welcome! commensurate with his renown, To him who won the conqueror's crown. Soldiers! who followed where the hero led, Comrades! who marched with him and fought like kings, 'Neath his command who camped, or charg'd or bled, And earned the double fame that valor brings, Comrades! who nobly trod the scarlet press, Vicksburg and Richmond with their wild alarms, The bloody tangles of the wilderness; The crater and the avalanche of arms, The graves all coffinless, for soldiers true, His last great victory won; Now on the higher shore. He stands with Washington. Oh! cannons, mortars, implements of war Whose thunders shook the earth and rent the clouds, Oh! send your parting peal both loud and far A signal to the sorrowing, weeping crowds- Oh! swords and sabers glist'ning in the light, A work the brave alone would dare or do, Announce the holy vigils which we keep Above the coffin where his relics lie, Relics of him who was not born to die, A name, embalmed in every heart and head, A name to live when kings and thrones are dead. Oh! drum, wild rolling drum, let thy loud sound The President:-The next on our programme is something fresh -"Marche Funebre et Chant Seraphique." He read the words. with a broad English pronunciation, and with a sort of "excuse my French" air which elicited an outburst of laughter from the audience. The organ broke in with the wailing strains of the march, which at the close of the selection died away into a soft musical murmur, which rendered it quite uncertain as to when it actually came to an end. After waiting patiently awhile, General Sherman said: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I think the music is over, but I am not certain. [Laughter.] We have now reached that period of our exercises when a little fun, something sparkling and witty, will be perfectly in order. The members of our Society have a perfect right to call upon any person upon the platform to speak to them extemporaneously. I do not think the audience possesses that privilege (cries of Logan! Logan! Logan!) although it seems they have taken that privilege. [Laughter and renewed cries for Logan.] General Logan came forward and was received with cheers. He addressed the audience as follows: MR. PRESIDENT: I have a complaint to make against you, sir, [laughter] because you have notified this audience that they could call upon anybody to make fun. [Laughter.] Ladies and Gentlemen, after listening to what we have to-night, I do not know that I could say anything that would be in the slightest degree interesting to you. Since listening to the most eloquent remarks that have been made in reference to one that I loved as dearly as man could love man, and while we have been considering his character and calling to our minds that which is calculated to arouse the grief which rests in our bosoms, I know that I cannot say anything to interest you, but of him I will say one word. I knew him well. He was my friend. There have been few times in the history of the world, reaching back for a thousand years, so solemn as this time. But a few days since, when, on the mountain top and in the valley, on the broad ocean, in hamlet, town and city, in every part of the civilized world, the people were listen ing for the words which at last went sweeping over the spiderweb of the telegraph that penetrates everywhere; and our heads were bowed, and grief penetrated the heart of every man, woman and child, when that short sentence reached us: "Grant is dead." With but one exception, no such impression has been made upon the civilized nations of the earth as was made by the death of this man. Why was this? He was a plain man. He was simple in his habits. He was not an orator, as Brutus was, who could stir up the multitudes. He was not brilliant or dashing. It was not that. He was a man of genius, a man of great intellect, a man of sound judgment, a man of great heart, a man of deep feeling and of great thought, a man whose genius towered far above the genius of men who are known to history, a man who could by one word move armies, a man who could win victories and not exult, a man who could receive the plaudits of the civilized world without changing a feature, a man whose pride was in his simplicity. I will say more, perhaps, in speaking of him as compared with others than would be received by some as being correct. I believe, as firmly as I believe that the God of Heaven has given me an existence to-day, that he was the greatest man as a military genius that ever lived on this earth. [Applause.] When he died, he fell as the tall oak falls, before the sharp winds, as it stands in the forests, and causes the earth to tremble around about it. So in his fall were the vibrations heard from the rivers to the ends of the earth. Such a man was Grant and such was the feelings of the people at his death. The clouds that were once thrown around his fair name, by the unfortunate and malicious whisperings of his enemies were driven from sight by thoughtful people, and the sunlight of justice opened his honest bosom to the world's examination, and they found it as pure as the thought of an angel. [Applause.] I do not believe that Grant ever had an evil thought. I believe his intentions were as pure as the dew drop that hangs upon the lips of the most beautiful flower that is produced by the highest state of cultivation. He sank down into the earth as pure a man as God ever threw from his plastic hand and breathed life into his nostrils, that he might become a living soul. [Applause.] As the Army of the Tennessee, that he first commanded, and which your humble last commanded, we bid farewell to that commander who had the love and admiration of each and every man that ever obeyed his voice, in moving forward for the preservation of the |