d mines. They had not been demoralized. They had been ennobled.
They were as honest in peace as they had been brave in war. Mocking at
poverty, laughing at reverses, they made a friend of toil. They
said: "We saved the Nation's life, and what is life without honor?"
They-worked and wrought with all of labor's royal sons that every pledge
the Nation gave might be redeemed. And their great leader, having put a
shining band of friendship--a girdle of clasped and happy hands--around
the globe, comes home and finds that every promise made in war has now
the ring and gleam of gold.

There is another question still:--Will all the wounds of war be healed?
I answer, Yes. The Southern people must submit, not to the dictation of
the North, but to the Nation's will and to the verdict of mankind. They
were wrong, and the time will come when they will say that they are
victors who have been vanquished by the right. Freedom conquered them,
and freedom will cultivate their fields, educate their children, weave
for them the robes of wealth, execute their laws, and fill their land
with happy homes.

The soldiers of the Union saved the South as well as North. They made us
a Nation. Their victory made us free and rendered tyranny in every other
land as insecure as snow upon volcanoes' lips.

And now let us drink to the volunteers--to those who sleep in unknown,
sunken graves, whose names are only in the hearts of those they loved
and left--of those who only hear in happy dreams the footsteps of
return. Let us drink to those who died where lipless famine mocked at
want--to all the maimed whose scars give modesty a tongue--to all who
dared and gave to chance the care and keeping of their lives:--to all
the living and to all the dead--to Sherman, to Sheridan, and to Grant,
the laureled soldiers of the world, and last, to Lincoln, whose loving
life, like a bow of peace, spans and arches all the clouds of war.

A TRIBUTE TO THE Rev. ALEXANDER CLARK.

UPON the grave of the Reverend Alexander Clark I wish to place one
flower.

Utterly destitute of cold dogmatic pride that often passes for the
love of God; without the arrogance of the "elect"--simple, free, and
kind--this earnest man made me his friend by being mine. I forgot that
he was a Christian, and he seemed to forget that I was not, while each
remembered that the other was a man.

Frank, candid, and sincere, he practiced what he preached, and looked
with the holy eyes of c