The Ocala banner. (Ocala, Marion County, Fla.) 1883-194?, 1917-11-09

nome Dut IN every patflOtlc nome IN
the nation.
1t is absolutely clean There is a
lofty tone of purity and refinement
running through its pages, and it is
one magazine that can be read around
the Preside with pleasure and delight.
Anne Rankin. its editor, writes with
great beauty, grace. purity and exquis-
it's charm.
Her editorial on Woman and War"
we feel will be read with interest, es-
pecially by our feminine readers. She
tells how women mentally abhor war,
yet with some strange fascination
send their sons, brothers and sweet
hearts forth to battle with blessing
and benediction and all the thrills of
martyrdom.
We are reprinting only part of
the article today.
Miss Rankin says:
Gold intellect forbids the destruc-
toin and the waste of war, even if
heart and soul may, by the sacrifciaI
mystery of spilled blood, condone its
tragedies.
sAnd yet our women, I could not
love thee, dear, so much, loved I not
honor more This, through all the
ages, to our sons, our brothers, our
sweethearts. What army would ever
have been recruited, what battle line
formed, what campaign carried to its
blood-stained ending, if the women at
home had refused the sacrifice?
What old Rebel of the SOS but. will
tell you: I had rather have faced YAM
kee bullets any day than the scorn of
the girl I left behind me. I had no
choice but to fight; there was no
chance for me to stay at home. The
women would never have allowed it,
THAT was fifty years ago, and mar
1elous and new wonders in the way
OF humanities are ours. And yet once
more do thousands. millions, of wom-
en- send out to the unspeakable hard
ships of march and siege and carnage
their sons, their brothers and their
sweethearts!
Aud further, it is strange thing
among the many mysteriese of this
turmoil that so shakes our solid earth,
that for the most part the women who
have protested oftenest against our
sharing the burdens and the sorrows
of the giant strife are women not
bound by the closest ties to the men
who are the ones to go when the call
to battle comes.
We who have no sons to give stand
helpless before the anguish which
cries out to its best beloved, 4 would
not have you stay. Fall if you must,
but let it be in the farthest 'front.'
American women in London who
watched the English lads who march
ed away wept with the pity of it. They
declared: We give only tears for
these boys, but were we at home and
were these our own boys, we would
not let them go. We would throw our
selves before their marching feet: we
would cling to them, hold them; we
would not let them go. They are the
flower of the land--it is too much to
give!''
"But these same women, when our
own national honor needs defense,
and it is indeed our own boys who
must go-bone of our bone and flesh
of our fiesh-then do these same wom-
en-, like all the countless wives and
mothers and sweethearts in all The
countless wartimes before, cry out
again the old heartbroken plea, with
your shield or on it; I could not love
thee, dear, SO much. loved not honor
more,
When it is the men OF other ma.
tons, the sons or other mothers, who
must die for this ancient code of hon
or. we feel a torturing Questiea as to-
the reasonableness of the sacrifice,
but when the suffering mad the sacri-
fice are our own, we see the fine soul
of our martyrdon. We give our best,
our all. And what army is there, or
has ever been. that could long make
its marches, fight its battles, or en-
dure its wounds, but for the women
whose sorrows, whose heartaches, and
whose prayers brood ever over it like
some mystic and unbelievable benedic-
ton? Women could put an end to
war for men could not fight without
their help, but we have never tried to
stop it. Mentally we loath and hate
1t, but the scarlet thread Of its mar
tyrdona is woven into the fabric of
our souls. To the child on your breast
you Groom the old-time lullabies, %.