Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1862-05-20

NnaG a Loyal IenneSSeean Thinks,
The following letter, addressed by Captain
VIM Driver Of Nashville to one of his BROTH
ers in this city, we are permitted to publish.
1t is interesting, as presenting the views of
one who has passed through the fiery furnace
of rebellion, seven times heated, and whose
memorable baptism of the flag he so loves as
cold Glory" has been universally accepted.
1t will please his old townsmen to learn that
there is prospect that he may soon revisit his
native city, after an absence of more than a
quarter of Il century, and that they will have
the pleasure of taking the true man and pat
riot by the hand again =
NASHVILLE, May l, 1862
Brother George: Never was great
er mistake made by man than to hope by mild
means to kill treason particularly a treason
like the present one, the offspring of luxury
incidence, and insanity. The hot sun of the
south is not the generator of noble, glorious,
God-like charities. The lion, the tiger, the
anaconda, the constructor, and the asp, are pc
culiar creations of the torrid zone, where man
is Il creature of fiery passions or hateful indo-
lence. Heaven-born charity is of the temper
ate zone, where man is free; cen though in
the sweat of his brow he doth eat bread no
table Of his is loaded with tear-stained food.
Glorious glorious liberty! love thee oh,
how | love thee!
Excuse me, BROTHER this is no place for me.
| scorn this heritage; it is no place for me.
l am a New Highlander; the blood of the Pu
ritan is in my veins, and no change of place
or circumstances can root it out. The spirit
of our father seems to hover around me.
cannot be a traitor if l would. l cannot saw
amen to oppression cen though it would fiji
my purse with gold. love to stand poor and
almost alone, as have here, amid the storms of
nd olo
soul and fits it for its home with God Broth
er we shall meet there at last and then hear
the song of ransomed millions, made doubly
free by the desolating storm which now howls
around our hearth stones. The hand of God
is in it, and His right hand directs it. Ethio-
pia, the oppressed, will soon lift up its hands
to God My dim eyes, piercing through the
mist of coming time, catch CLEAN Of light
along the dark horizon of our country. My
ears catch the distant swelling notes which
once of old filed, heaven with their thrilling
sound Sound the loud timbrel DER Egypts
dark sea-Jehovah is mighty, his people are
free.
1t is more than useless to think this war
will end until the cause thereof is removed.
That cause is too plain to need comment
here; us slareyy, the muzzlng ofthe mouth
of the OK, which treadeth out the corn The
cry of the hireling whose wages have been
kept back has reached the throne of God, and
the hour of retribution is come The gold Of
the north, which is accessory to wrong, is
sunk, in the Red Sea of war; The south will
be desolate indeed. Not even the Union men
on whose lintels and doorposts is found the
blood Of past Affections for conscence's sake,
will escape the common ruin; all have sinned
and a common ruin will fall on all. Here is
no Goshen land; the few who abode here
and defed the fiery traitor blast will die Of
poverty and neglect, whilst skulking towards
who ran away will fill every place Of bread.
BE it so. ! say Amen if a people are there
by made free.
Your brother, WILLIAM DRIVER