Let us hope that friend and foe alike found favor in His sight where all is well.
Death is life's mystery — that undiscovered country whence none return — in no place so great and marvellous a study as here.
One would think that war would develop ferocity in hard natures; perhaps it does; but it is not shown in the faces of the dead.
They enter the silent land with eyes open; a stare of surprise is in them; the lines of care are softened upon the brow, and the cheek, when untorn, shows determination, as though they slept where doubt is unknown, where all mystery is revealed; where the reason of our creation, to bear the myrtle leaf of joy or the habiliments of mourning, to reap the golden sheaves of content or gather the mildew of misery, is known.
They have been sent, rather than gone, to the garner where all shall be gathered.
This is the work of treason!
This it is to unroof the temple of law and order, and let loose the demon of discord.
A people more than prosperous have fallen upon evil times.
Murder, arson, theft, all kinds of injustice, follow in the footsteps of war. Nor is the end yet. When shall spears and swords be beaten into ploughshares and pruning-hooks?
“How long, O Lord
?” --Cincinnati Gazette