War Is The Remedy That Our Enemies

To Those Who Would Submit To The Rightful Law And Authority, All Gentleness And Forbearance; But To The Petulant And Persistent Secessionists, Why, Death Is Mercy, And The Quicker He Or She Is Disposed Of The Better. Satan And The Rebellious Saints Of Heaven Were Allowed A Continuous Existence In Hell Merely To Swell Their Just Punishment. To Such As Would Rebel Against A Government So Mild And Just As Ours Was In Peace, A Punishment Equal Would Not Be Unjust.

I Am Tired And Sick Of War. Its Glory Is All Moonshine. It Is Only Those Who Have Neither Fired A Shot Nor Heard The Shrieks And Groans Of The Wounded Who Cry Aloud For Blood, For Vengeance, For Desolation. War Is Hell.

There Will Soon Come An Armed Contest Between Capital And Labor. They Will Oppose Each Other, Not With Words And Arguments, But With Shot And Shell, Gun-powder And Cannon. The Better Classes Are Tired Of The Insane Howling Of The Lower Strata And They Mean To Stop Them.

The War Now Is Away Back In The Past, And You Can Tell What Books Cannot. When You Talk, You Come Down To The Practical Realities Just As They Happened. You All Know This Is Not Soldiering Here. There Is Many A Boy Here Today Who Looks On War As All Glory, But, Boys, It Is All Hell. You Can Bear This Warning Voice To Generations Yet To Come. I Look Upon War With Horror, But If It Has To Come, I Am There.

I Beg To Present You As A Christmas Gift The City Of Savannah.