No Man Surely Has So Short A

I Have Never Seen An Adequate Description Anywhere Of The Amazement, The Uncomprehending Horror Of The Bulk Of The American People Which Preceded The Firing Of That Gun At Sumter. Politicians Or Far-sighted Leaders On Both Sides Knew What Was Coming. And It Is They Who Have Written Histories Of The War. But To The Easy-going Millions, Busied With Their Farms Or Shops, The Onrushing Disaster Was As Inexplicable As An Earthquake. Their Protest Arose From Sea To Sea Like The Clamor Of A Gigantic Hive Of Frightened Bees.

Our Young People Have Come To Look Upon War As A Kind Of Beneficent Deity, Which Not Only Adds To The National Honor But Uplifts A Nation And Develops Patriotism And Courage. That Is All True. But It Is Only Fair, Too, To Let Them Know That The Garments Of The Deity Are Filthy And That Some Of Her Influences Debase And Befoul A People.

The Histories Which We Have Of The Great Tragedy Give No Idea Of The General Wretchedness, The Squalid Misery, Which Entered Into Every Individual Life In The Region Given Up To The War. Where The Armies Camped The Destruction Was Absolute.

We Don't Often Look Into These Unpleasant Details Of Our Great Struggle. We All Prefer To Think That Every Man Who Wore The Blue Or Gray Was A Philip Sidney At Heart.

Every Child Was Taught From His Cradle That Money Was Mammon, The Chief Agent Of The Flesh And The Devil. As He Grew Up It Was His Duty As A Christian And A Gentleman To Appear To Despise Filthy Lucre, Whatever His Secret Opinion Of It Might Be.