Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1881-10-13

to endure the last peril and stand
ready for the last sacrifice: call that a
man hath will he give for his life,
and all that man can do is to offer that
life for his country. This offer he
made, but before it was demanded, he
entered upon the dearest relation OF
his life. He had vowed himself to
love and honor the woman who to-
day is the most pitied, and the most
to be pitied of human beings. He left
her side to follow the flag, but the love
of wife and home is the inspiration OF
the patriot soldiers heart.
A moment, while the bugles blow,
He sees his babes about thy knee,
Then, like fire he meets the foe,
And strikes him dead for thine and thee
That "the loving are the daring" is
as true a word as ever was written.
War. even, cannot harden the true
heart. kiss me, Hardy" said the dy-
ing Nelson.
The work that called him from his
home being done, and well done, he
returned thither to receive the highest
honors that his fellow citizens could
confer upon him. He went back to
the men who had known him from his
childhood, to the men who had seen
him come and go all his days; to the
men who had watched every action of
his life, from whom, if he had been so
minded, he could have concealed moth
ing; his weaknesses, his faults, for all
men have them, were as well known
as his virtues and his talents, and
what a record he made. The prophet
Mohammed, being about to depart
from this world, was carried to the
mosque, and there rising up demanded
if there was q man in the assembly
whom he had wronged, that he was
then and there to speak, since he, the
speaker, was soon to go where he
could make no restitution. Could
some strong angel stand to-day by the
open grave of James A. Garfield, and
make such a proclamation in a voice
that could be heard throughout this
land, think you an accusing voice
would be heard in reply? Not one!
Not one! No man, no woman, no
child could say, 81 was in trouble and
he helped me not; l was weak and he
forgot me; was in his power and he
crushed me-" No, no, for the soul of
the man was warmed and thrilled by
the undying fame of love.
There are men, many of them, who
seem necessary in the worlds affairs
whose ability is so transcendant that
its recognition is enforced; who direct
the policy of nations and decide the
destinies of peoples, who are yet un-
loved and unloveable. The world, see
ing the brilliancy of their triumphs,
bows down, but withholds its heart.
Their path is marked by melancholy
tokens; promises made to be broken
friends ruthlessly betrayed; enemies
crushed without remorse. Not this
the history of James A. Garfield; no
man was trampled on that he might
rise; no broken pledges ever rose to
trouble his peace; no knight had ever
less to fear, none ever so lived without
reproach. In the fierce controversies
of a national campaign, conducted as
such struggles are in this country,
with unspairing severity toward all
the real or imagined, actual or suppo-
sitiOus faults and frailities of the can
didate; no accusation of cruelty, or
treachery, of wrong, was brought
against him; his to recognize in a ten
der and graceful figure which will be
long remembered, the chivalric courte-
sy of his opponents, as ''the flowers
that bloom over the party wall of poll
tics"
Such was his life in brief, such its
motive, and it is easy to read and find
its lessons. It's that the dark plots,
the subterfuges, the sinister plans of
men in public life, are the merest
waste and the most fruitless of toll.
1t is to the true heart that mankind at
last yield their homage, when the
scheming, plotting brain is forgotten,
Ability is well, learning is well, elo-
quence is well, industry is well, but the
brave heart that loves on and on is all
in all.
We murmur at the end. We think
it hard that this man, who wronged nc
man; who ought, in the natural order
of things, to have lived to a green old
age, was shot down by ruthless crea,
ture whom he had never injured by
word or thought or deed, whom he had
never seen. We shudder at those
eighty days of agony, at that death OF
pain. Our hearts grow chill with un.
belief as we think of that face con.
vulsed with pain, and that last pitifuI
appeal. "Oh, Swain, can't you do some
thing for me?" 1t was hard, hard. but
1t Is over now. The agonized prayer Of
millions was seemingly unheard, ant
the life so precious to us all ended
there in the dark night beside tn,
moaning sea. The record has beer
made, and the lesson remains.
1t was but another chapter, and in
harmony with all the others. Courage
fortitude, cheerfulness in the midst o.
torture, and love that time nor pair
could turn from its object. The bod,
could be racked with torture indescrib
able, but nothing shook that faithful
neart. The last glance of the fadins
eye turned upon the face most dear
and Love went away hand in hant
with the Angel of Death.
And did that end all? Did that font
soul then cease its lovingP Is ther,
nothing beyond save the voiceles
darkness?
The belief that there is an infinit.
love. the dear >God who knows ant
loves us all, was the hope of the goot
man gone. He never, for a moment
from the days he bowed his boyisl
head upon his mothers knees at nigh
till he went away from this world
doubted it. Was he the deluded vic
tim of wish? Was an immortality O
love the mere creation of his longing
Fortunate was he in his believing. Saf
must be the heart of him who to-da,
can disbelieve.
He has gone, but we remain. Thank,
to him, and such as he, we have ;
country still. The paths of distinctio,
he trod are still open to the aspiring
home, wife and children and friend
are ours. And shall we not learn from