It was not war, it was murder.
As each brigade emerged from the woods, from 50 to 100 guns opened upon it, tearing great gaps in its ranks; but the heroes pressed on and were shot down by reserves at the guns. It was not war, it was murder.
Our gloomy Presbyterian ideas encourage fear of God, not love for him.
Those who have happy homes seldom turn out badly.
But the admiration for Jackson was by no means confined to his own soldiers and to his own section.
Let our children be taught love love love.
There was a nuisance in the service known as the army correspondent.
Train our children to love God.
The vast army of McClellan spread out before me. The marching columns extended back as far as eye could see in the distance. It was a grand and glorious spectacle, and it was impossible to look at it without admiration.
Jackson was not a religious man when he came to Lexington.
We were lavish of blood in those days, and it was thought to be a grand thing to charge a battery or an earth-work lined with infantry.
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