The gates were then thrown open, and the entire procession entered the Cemetery. But how shall I describe the scene spread out before us as we entered this solemn, silent city of the nation's dead? The Cemetery contains forty-three acres, which are enclosed by a high board fence. It is divided into four principal sections by broad avenues, running north and south, and east and west, intersecting each other at right angles at the center of the grounds. There is a sidewalk and row of young trees on each side of these avenues. And then on either side of these avenues and walks, what fields, what fields of white head-boards, stretching away in long white parallel lines to the north and south, each with its simple record of the name, regiment, and date of death of him who lies beneath it. So they sleep their long sleep, lying shoulder to shoulder in their graves as they had stood together in serried ranks on many a field of battle. Resuming our march, and moving up the broad avenue, with rank upon rank, and thousands upon thousands of these solemn sentinels upon either side of us, we find on the left (west) side of the avenue, a tablet with this inscription: "The hopes, the fears, the blood, the tears, That marked the bitter strife, Are now all crowned by victory That saved the nation's life." We paused, and hung a wreath above this inscription, and then moved on to a tablet on the right (east) side of the avenue, with this inscription: "Whether in the prison drear, Or in the battle's van, The fittest place for man to die, Is where he dies for man." We hung a wreath here, and again our procession moved forward and halted on the left (west) side of the avenue, at a tablet bearing the inspired words: "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Here we placed another wreath, and moved onward to a tablet on the right (east) side of the avenue, where we read-- "A thousand battle-fields have drunk The blood of warriors brave, And countless homes are dark and drear, Thro' the land they died to save." Another wreath was placed here, and we marched to the last tablet in the north of the Cemetery, standing in the midst of a section of graves numbering thousands, and inscribed-- "Through all rebellion's horrors Bright shines our nation's fame, Our gallant soldiers, perishing, Have won a deathless name." After hanging a wreath here, we marched to the center of the Cemetery, and hung our last wreath upon the flag-staff from which the stars and stripes shall ever float above those who died in its defence.