Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1922-06-07
"The Unknown Soldier"

he unknown sSOA41Cks
That which takes place today at
the National cemetery in Arlington
is a symbol, a mystery and tribute.
1t is an entombment only in the
physical sense. It is rather the en-
thronement of duty and honor. This
man who died for his country is the
symbol of these qualities; a far more
perfect symbol than any man could
be whose name and deeds we know.
He rep1 esents more, really, than the
unidentified dead, for we cannot
separate them spiritually from the
war heroes whose names are written
I, on their gravestones. He-this spirit
whom we honor-stands for the un-
selfshness of all.
This, of all monuments to the dead,
is lasting and immutable. So long as
men revere the finer things of lie
the tomb Of the nameless hero Will
remain a shrine. Nor, with the shifts
of time and mind can there be
changing of values. No historian shall
rise to modify the virtues or the
faults of the soldier. He has an I'M
munity for which kings might pray.
The years may bring erosion to the
granite but not to the memory of the
unknown.
It is a common weakness of hu-
manity to ask the questions that can
never be answered in this life. Prob
ably none to whom the drama Of the
unknown soldier has appealed has
not wondered who, in the sunshine
of earth, was the protagonist OF to-
days ceremony. A logger from the
Penobscot? An orchardist from the
Pacific coast? A well driller from
Texas? A machinist from Connecti-
cut? A lad who | eft his hoe to rust
among the Missouri corn? A long
shoreman from HelTs Kitchen? Per-
haps some youth from the tobacco
fields, resting again in his own Vir-
ginia. All that the army tells us OF
him is that he died in battle. All that
the heart tells is that some woman
loved him. More than that no man
shall learn. In this mystery, as in the
riddle of the universe, the wise Won
der; but they would not know.
What were his dreams, his ambi-
tions? Likely he shared those COM
mon to the millions; life of peace
and honest struggle, with such. small
success as comes to most who try;
and at the end the place on the hill
side among his fathers. Today to do
honor at his last resting place come
the greatest soldier of the age, fa-
NOUS statesmen from other CONT
nents, the President, the high judges
and the legislators of his own coun-
try, and many men who, like himself,
fought for the flag. At his bier will
gather the most remarkable group
that America has seen. And the tomb
which Fate reserved for him is, in
stead of the narrow cell on the vii
lage hillside, one as lasting as that
of Rameses and as inspiring as Ma
poleon's.
It is a great religious ceremony,
this burial today. The exaltation of
the nameless bones would not be pos
sible except for belief. Where were
duty and honor, the well-springs of
victory, if mankind feared that death
drew black curtain behind which
lay nothing but the dark? So all in
whom the spark of hope has not died
can we'll believe that we, to whom the
soldier is mystery, are not mys-
terry to him. They can believe that the
watchers at Arlington today are not
merely few thousands Of the living,
but the countless battalions of the
departed. Though he were dead, yet
shall he live"-there is the promise
to which men hold when everything
of this earth has slipped away.
All the impressive ritual of today
would be a mockery if we did not be-
lieve that, out in an infnity which as
tronomeds cannot chart or mathema-
ticians bound, the unknown soldier
and all the glorious dead are looking
down upon this little spinning ball,
conscious of our reverence. And
when noon strikes, signal for the
moment of silent prayer, few of
those who stand with barred head will
lack conviction that the rites at Ar