Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1876-10-12
Ingers0ll's Imagery.

In his speech at Indianapolis Col.
Robert G. Ingersoll gave one of the
most eloquent pictures of imagery
and vision ever given in the English
l-nguage: .t,. d.
"The past, as it were, rises before
me like dream. Again we are in
the great struggle for national life
We hear the sounds Of preparation
the music of the boisterous drums
the silver voices of heroic bugles.
We see thousands of assemblages,
and hear the appeals of orators; we
see the pale cheeks OF women, and
the flushed faces OF men; and in
those assemblages we see all the dead
whose dust we have covered with
flowers. We, lose sight of them no
more. We are with them when they
enlist in the great army Of freedom.
We see them part with those they
love. Some are walking for the last
time in quiet woody places with the
maidens they adore. We hear the
whisperings and sweet vows Of eter-
nal love as they lingeringly part for
ever. Others are bending over era
dies, kissing babes that are asleep.
Some are receiving the blessings of
old men. Some are parting with
mothers who hold them and press
them to their hearts again and again,
and say nothing; and some are talk
ing with wives, and endeavoring
with brave words spoken in the old
tones to drive from their hearts the
awful fear. We see them part. We
see the wife standing in the door
with the babe in her arms-standing
in the sunlight sobbing-at the turn
of the road hand waves-she an
swers by holding high in her loving
hands the child. He is gone and for
ever.
We see them all as they march
proudly away under the Haunting
flags, keeping time to the wild grand
music of war-marching down the
streets Of the great cities-through
the towns and across the prairies-
down to the fields OF glory, to do, and
to die for the eternal right.
We go with them one and all. We
are by their side on all the CORY
fields-in all the hos pitals Of pain
on all the weary marches. We stand
guard with them in the wild storm
and under the quiet stars. We are
with them in ravines running with
blood-in the burrows of old fields.
We are with them between contend
ing hosts, unable to move, wild with
thirst, the life ebbing slowly away
among the withered leaves. We see
them pierced by balls and torn with
shells in the trenches by the forts, and
In the whirlwind Of the charge, where
men become iron, with nerves Of
steel.
We are with them in the prisons Of
hatred and famine; but human
speech can never tell what they en-
dured.
We are at home when the news
comes that they are dead. We see
the maiden in the shadow OF her first
sorrow. We see the silvered head
OF the old man bowed with the last
grief.
The past rises before us, and we
see four millions OF human beings
governed by the lash-we see them
bound hand and foot-we hear the
strokes of cruel whips-we see the
hounds tracking women through
tangled spamps. We see babes sold
from the breasts OF mothers. Cruelty
unspeakable! Outrage infinite!
Four million bodies in chains
four million souls in fetters. All the
sacred relations Of wife, mother. faith
er and child trampled beneath the
brutal feet of might. And all this
was done under our own beautiful
banner of the free.
The past rises before US. We hear
the roar and shrek OF the bursting
shell. The broken fetters fall. These
heroes died. We look. Instead OF
slaves we see men, women and chill
dren. The wand of progress touches
the auction block, the slave-pen, the
whipping post. and We see homes
and fire-sides and school-houses and
books, and where all was want and
crime and cruelty and fear, we see
the faces of the free.
These heroes are dead. They died
for liberty-tbey died for us. They
are at rest. They sleep in the land
they made free, under the flag they
rendered stainless, under the solemn
pines, the sad hemlocks, the fearful
willows, and the embracing vines.
They sleep beneath the shadows of
the clouds, careless alike OF sunshine
or of storm, each in the windowless
palace OF rest. Earth may run red
with other wars-they are at peace.
In the midst of battle, in the roar of
conflict, they found the serenity of
death. A voice-"Glory.'l l have
one sentiment for the soldiers living
and dead-cheers for the living and
tears for the dead.
The Bonanza Kings Of California.
Mr.. James G. Flood, Of the firm of
Flood & O'Brien. is now on visit |