The Sun, The Earth, Love, Friends, Our

To Preach A Sermon Or Edit A Newspaper Were The Two Things In Life Which I Always Felt I Could Do With Credit To Myself And Benefit To The World, If I Only Had The Chance.

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.

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.

The Sun, The Earth, Love, Friends, Our Very Breath Are Parts Of The Banquet.

The Only Hero Known To My Childhood Was Henry Clay.