Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1911-04-27

| blOOdlesS hands. 1t is better to have
been brave and to lose than never to
have been brave at all. To fight for
deathless right is never useless. That
IS the only thing that can ennoble
+ contention. Ambition and the lust for
power have marshalled armies, but
not Hastings, or Ivry, Jena or Auster-
litz stir hearts today as the nobil-
ity of men who stormed the heights of
Gettysburg, or CROPPED amid the
marshes of the Chickahominy.
The Napoleonic wars subserve no
purpose today beyond attracting ad-
miration for their magnificent strate-
gy and daring. A mans activity ends
with his life, but there may be rec
ords of them that inspire new lives.
No man aspires to be a Napoleon to-
day. But Hampden has become the
energizer of every patriot, the fervor
of Patrick Henry still appeals to the
aspiring youth, the calm utterances
of Washington are still the guide of
political philosophers; and not his
military genius and his brave conten-
ton against insuperable odds, but
the devotion to duty and the willing
ness to sacrifice self has embalmed in
the affections of the human race the
name of Robert Lee.
l could wish we might pause and
think what all this means to the men
of 81. We make holiday with child
rem playing amid tombs, the flower
| laden air bestirred by prattle and
| laughter, the reunion Of fiends with
joyful geetings, and the dirge and ten
der word of oratory disturbed by the
mingling of voices that are not de-
pressed or choked for utterance. Only
little coup of veterans that are 81
dent because Rhey know much and still
not all of what death meant for these
men whose graves we honor.
Death now comes with measurable
comfort. A quiet home with tender
ministrants and weeping kindred and
the consultations of a man of God. The
Office of the skillful physician, the
merciful ministration of opiates, the
tender touch of nursing hand The
death chamber becomes a hallOwed
place where soft, sweet influences re-
main in blessed memory, where death
is robbed of it's sting and the grave
sulks, baffled of it's victory.
So did not death come to these men.
There in the mud of trenches or the
shot-furrowed field, or the
death grapple, with maddened
plunging horses tramping them as
they lay painting and comrades rush
ing headlong, deaf to their entreaties.
To them came in piercing ball or
mangling shot or crushing cable-stroke
Their bones shattered and their blood
yelling up in their mouths to choke
them. The air was heavy with sui
phurous smoke for hymns sung with
trembling voices were the hoarse bel
diving of cannon. And not a gentle
hand to smooth their brows or drop OF
water to moisten their parched lips.
If there was appearance of yearn-
ing mother, of anguished wife, Of
sweet children, it was only a phan-
tom Of the brain. If there was strain
Of holy hymn or word of pleading
prayer, it was but the dim recollec-
tion of some pious Office in the old
church far away amid the whispering
pines. If there was pressure OF SOL
kiss upon the cheek it was only thf
wandering delusion of a cloud OF dirt
moistened with ebbing blood And then
the moonlight search, the hasty gain
: ering of mangled men, the long un'
= marked trenches, the hasty sepulchre'
: with no word of affection for the wait
; ones at home, and the unmarked
grave that spoke of one unknown-no
! We do not know all this sad story.
Out of these sad days will come GU
: own redemption. The solution of tina
dark problem is even now realized
! These men were cur best heritage. w
] are coming into our own at last.
! That seed which grows must seer
II to die;