Gold Hill daily news. [volume] (Gold Hill, N.T. [Nev.]) 1863-1882, 1864-03-30
Can These Dry Bones Live3

The Democracy is still alive-so is
treason. Indeed, it might trouble the
ANALYTICAL mind of John c. Calhoun, were
he alive, to explain the difference between
the Democracy of the Free States and the
traitors of the South unless it be that the
former are seeking about the same result
as the latter, by means not half so honor
able. To take the field boldly and risk
ALL as the Rebels have done, to destroy
our Government is at least not coward
ly way of expressing ones sentiments
but to live under the Government, pro-
tected by it, enjoying all its blessings,
feeling little if any burden from it, and
having nearly all the time for forty years
enioyed all the honors and emoluments it
could bestow-for such to plot for its des-
truction, is mean and cowardly. Yet this
is what the debris of the old Democratic
Party is doing. True, it is only the
skeleton of that once honored and patriotic
institution. Its living flesh and warm
blood have left it. Its heart is gone, and
if its head still remains, the brains are not
in it. 1t is simply grinning skeleton,
like the heads of the revolutionary negroes
of San Domingo, after decapitation and
implement at the corners of the streets,
from whose lifeless jaws and eyeless sock
cts the lizards looked upon the passer-by,
and then skulked into the hollow where
the human intellect once had dwelling.
Treason turks in the deaths head of the
Coppery Democracy, izard-ike, with its
thirsty tongue trying to catch the incau-
tious, vagrant flies. "Can these dry
bones live:" Can the dead body from
which the soul-patriotism-that once
animated and urged it to great and noble
deeds, has departed, by any galvanic pro-
cess known to political charlatans or pro-
fessors, be made to perform the functions
of life: As well expect to tun tread
mill by harnessing into gear the petrified
beasts of the pre-Adamite period. AL
thatwas preservative otnational sentiment,
that inculcated patriotic devotion, that
gloried in the brilliant successes of our
Government and people, has passed away
from the graveyard relics of the old
Democracy, and is now firmly in and of
the Union Party. All that is left is that
which prefers party success to national
honor, integrity and life. Of this skeleton
party, the great bones are represented by
such men as Fillmore, the capacious
pelvis; Frank Pierce and James Buchanan,
the patelle, the knee-pans covering those
"pregnant hinges which with them ever
bent most readily to the demands of trait
ors; while femur and fibula, tibia and
vertebrn are the Vallandighams, Mandy
Woods, Seymours, and men Of that ilk;
and the small fry, such as rattle around
loosely, are fair anatomical specimens of
the toes and fingers Of the Democratic
carbonate of lime whence albumen and
gelatine have departed. Can a party
skeleton which consists Of such material,
be made of any living account: Were
there some "Old Mortality" and museum
for ghosts and skeletons Of defunct ideas
and ruined corporations, some bodiless
Barnum might find the possession Of the
Copperhead democracy good speculation.
But not i'll this world. Not in the Nine
teenth Century. Not within the bounds
of the Union. Not where the love of
country is as dear as the love of life and
honor. Not while sentiment Of nation
atty exists. No anti-war party ever yet
has been popular in America, nor is it
ever likely to be. The anti-war sentiment
destroyed the Tories of the Revolution;
the Federalists who followed; the oppo-
sers of the war of 1872 and the Wings
only reached triumph in lS4S through
having endorsed the Mexican War after it
had been inaugurated. The present strug-
gle calls more loudly upon every patriot
for support than did even the Revolution.
And yet the sacred voice of Freedom,
which says, "Come to thd country's res
cue" gets for answer from the Copperhead
Democracy only the echoes Of the dismal
music from their bone yard. 1t is as
useless as foolish for the crumbling dust
of the old Democracy to attempt reorgan-
ization, and hope for triumph upon basis
no broader nor better than opposition to
the Administration and the War, and
sympathy for the rebellion, clumsily
masked. The name of Democracy scarce
ly remains. Itself is dead.-S. F. Call.