No silk-and-satin warriors.
They were no warriors of the silk-and-satin kind, who joined their.
throat of thunder to the grand tones of that epic of wrath.
Seasoned veterans, with the faces of boyhood, stood behind the ordnance, which had been drawn from Yorktown
to the Chickahominy
, and which rang from Gettysburg
Never once were the cannoneers driven from the guns which had been captured for them from the enemy.
The strength of conflict was in their sinews, the strength of conviction in their hearts.
They moved in obedience to a principle which ruled the whole heart, and wielded the whole strength.
They were made by pressure and fire as a diamond is made.
As they faced storm after storm they added cubits to their stature.
Far beyond all material triumph in building the character of a people is the struggle for that ‘baptism’ which we name ‘the answer of a good conscience.’
From this source only comes the fortitude for that unshaken struggle with life's reverses which counts for more than all the exploits of romance.
None really, none lastingly conquer who trim their sails or their souls for every breeze and have no permanent chart.
‘All that pass from this world,’ said John Foster
, ‘must present themselves as from battle, or be denied to mingle in the eternal joys and triumphs of the conquerors.’