the hurricane force of the primitive trumpet, challenging at once. the forces of scientific gunnery and modern explosives. Martial music is an inseparable accompaniment of an army, and its use is almost as old as the history of war. A nation's songs are part of that nation's history. It is said that the inspiring strains of the "Marseillaise" aroused the traditional impetuosity of the French soldiery, and have on many a field added new luster to the triumphs of their arms.

Whether amid the sands of Egypt, or snows of Russia, whereever the tricolor of France floated on the breeze, were heard the swelling notes of the drum in the inspiration of which the man of destiny so much believed.

In what great and unknown measure has the "Watch on the Rhine" contributed to the upbuilding and cementing of German unity. Historic rivers, valorous soldier, imperial character and immortal song! While the achievements of armies have been perpetuated by the pens of Gibbon and Prescott, the glories of martial music have engaged the genius of story and song; of the bard of Avon, and of him whose heroic stanzas sang of border wars, and whose gentler measures told of gray-haired Allen Bane. When that assault which made you men soldiers was made upon free government, in 1861, the drum-beats which resounded "from the sea in the East to the West by the sea" were but the Nation's calls to her sons to rally to the defense of the Nation's life, and their reverberations were felt in the throbbing of patriotism which changed men from citizens to soldiers. With embarrassed and sorrowful effort the volunteer soldier attempted to keep step both with the thoughts and the music of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," as he turned his back upon the scenes and associations of boyhood. With an ardor which neither the ties of kindred or consideration of comfort could restrain, he hurried to the camp singing as he went: "We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more."

With a devotion to duty which bespoke the entire consecration of his life to the cause, he subordinated even his freedom of motion to the stately measure of the drum.

By the sound of reveille the dreams of the dear ones at home were broken, and he essayed the duties of another day; and when the "sentinel stars set their watch in the sky" at the sound of the welcome tattoo, he laid him down to forget in slumber the

realities of war. At the sound of the long-roll, our soldiers knew that the conflict was on, and as the bugle sounded the advance, they entered the valley of shadow amid the hail of death and the sulphurous smoke of battle.

By the bugle sound the charge is ordered, and through its plaintive tones the vanquished sue for mercy. The true soldier would not disobey the one, and dare not disregard the other. It calls the truce, and it brings the welcome tidings of succor. It was the bugle-note born in the sultry Indian air, that carried to the anxious ears of the despairing garrison the slogan of the Highlanders marching to the relief of beleagured Lucknow.

And finally, when death comes to the soldier, with measured tread to the mournful music of the muffled drum, he is borne to his sepulchre and laid in that bed "Whose curtains never outward fling," there to rest unmoved by contending strifes, and undisturbed by beat of drum or bugle-note, while the procession of the ages moves on

"Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed
The blast of triumph o'er the grave"-

and the final reveille shall herald the dawn of eternal day.

The soldiers of the Army of the Tennessee remember with what gladness they heard the bugle sing truce as the lines were crossing the snow-clad hills that environed Fort Donelson, to move upon the enemy's works. That bugle note was the first significant sound of the national victory during the war, where our first commander battled in glory the single star which shone upon his shoulder—a star thereafter ever in the ascendant during the long night of the war, and whose silver splendor will grow brighter and brighter as the ages roll on.

And so through the long years of conflict, in camp and on the march, over river and mountain, to Shiloh and Vicksburg, to Atlanta and the Sea, to Bentonville and Raleigh, the same breeze that rustled the folds of the flag bore the sounds of bugle and drum, the accompaniment of every battle hymn of the Republic, and the music of the Union.

Then that bright spring morning twenty years ago, when, through the triumph of all our armies, our fighting was ended; when the shackles had been shaken from the slave; when the first-armed foe had surrendered; when the red sea of rebellion had been passed; then, trumpet-tongued, the glorious news was

heralded to the world, and Mirriam's song of triumph went up from millions of throats to

"Sound the loud timbrel on Egypt's dark sea,

Jehovah has triumphed, his people are free."

Now for twenty years the bugle, fife and drum sounded only the strains of holiday triumph.

In our reunion they bring back the sacred memories of the great struggle for nationality and liberty, and in the familiar airs the "songs which guard our soldiers' clay will still fulfill their trust" till the last survivor of that grand old army shall obey the final call to assemble on the Right. [Applause.]

In closing the exercises, General Sherman said:

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have completed the programme which was given to us by the Local Committee. It was a pretty heavy one, but you have had a very good entertainment, both at the table and in the speeches which you have heard to-night. There are a good many young faces in the room this evening, and I am very glad to see them. I am also very glad to see the ladies here, and I hope they will retain memories of this scene long after we have passed away and been forgotten. They are the links that connect the present with the future, and the world is not done yet. The world will go on higher and higher and higher, and we will very soon be of the past. The Army of the Tennessee can simply say in plain, simple language: 'We tried to do our duty. We think we did our duty. We wish to occupy a cherished spot in the hearts of the young and the growing, who will look up to us as veterans who have done a little service in their day; and let them pledge their lives that they will move on and up until our dreams shall be realized, and this land of yours and ours, this beautiful land shall become the home of millions of families and millions of people yet to be born, whose lives shall be as precious to them as ours are to us to-day.' We have heard a southern man (Colonel Donan) speak a great truth to-night-that the southern people were more obliged to the Army of the Tennessee than the people of Illinois. We did the people of Georgia a large service, although we sacrificed much life and great treasure. We made Georgia a better land than it was ever before, or ever could have been under the regime of slavery. They owe us a debt of gratitude, and so sure as there is a God in heaven, they will

acknowledge the truth ere long. [Applause.] ladies and gentlemen; may your dreams be sweet. stand adjourned."

Good-night,
You now

A corps of buglers and drummers at each end of the hall took up the old camp-calls, and ran through the scale from Reveille to Taps, and as the descending notes of the last call at night floated over the chamber, the banqueters slowly filed out, and the eighteenth annual reunion of the Army of the Tennessee was at an end.

DECORATIONS.

Little was done in the way of general decoration of any of the rooms used by the Society. From the circumstances nothing could be done in Haverley's theatre for the business meeting of the 9th.

Central Music Hall, a very handsome room of itself, did not, and in fact could not, receive much decoration. The work done there, however, was in exceeding good taste. The stage was handsomely decorated with floral designs and draped flags. In front of the desk used by the orator was a large portrait of General John A. Logan, draped with bunting, while in the rear of the platform was a large painting of General W. T. Sherman, the President of the Society. Overhead and in front of the large organ was a crape-framed portrait of General U. S. Grant, surmounted by a beautiful floral crescent with the word "Grant” in immortelles, and beneath it was a large floral shield in the emblematic colors of the national escutcheon. On either side of the stage were two large national flags gracefully festooned, and above all waved the handsome blue flag of the Society of the Army of the Tennessee. In front of the stage, in blue letters on a white ground, were the following words:

"The campaign of Vicksburg was suggested and developed by circumstances, and it now looks as though Providence had directed its course while the Army of the Tennessee executed the decree."

(This is the concluding sentence of General Grant's paper on Vicksburg, recently published.) In the rear of the auditorium was suspended a beautiful representation of the badge of the Society, surrounded by a graceful group of flags.

The banquet hall was arranged with evergreens and festooned with smilax, and flowers and flags.

Back of the President's table was stretched two great National flags, while immediately behind the presiding officer was hung the banner of the Society beneath a floral shell and crescent. Above the entrance to the hall was stretched another banner supporting the badge of the Society, constructed of flowers.