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 The chapter in military history is yet to be written which presents a nobler scene than that of the greatest soldier of modern times riding among his shattered troops at Gettysburg, consoling them as no other mortal could, and taking upon himself the whole responsibility of failure. And great as he always was, Robert E. Lee never so filled the full stature of perfect manhood as on that fatal field where he sheathed his stainless sword forever. What brush of painter, unguided by the inspiration of more than mortal genius, what song of poet, unattuned to notes befitting the minstrelsy of heaven, what orator whose lips have not been touched by a live coal from off the altar of Divine eloquence, what historian whose pen has not been dipped in the blood of heroes, may fitly portray such scenes and such characters?
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