r 
 
 E 520 
 .5 
 2d 
 .G 
 Copy 1 
 
 s. 
 
 SERMON 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 LIEUT. SYLVESTER ROGERS, 
 
 SON OF 
 
 FREEMAN S. ROGERS, OF NASHUA, 
 
 Who was killed in the Battle of August 29ih, 1862, near Bull Run. 
 
 BY REV THOMAS GORMAN, 
 
 Preached on Sunday, Septemher 28, at the Universalist Church, Nashua. 
 
 NASHUA: 
 
 PRINTED AT N. H 
 
 TEIiEOBAPH OFFICE. 
 
 1862. 
 
^%^ 
 
 "y 
 
A 
 
 SERMON 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 LIEUT. SYLYESTER ROGERS, 
 
 SOX OP 
 
 FREEMAN S. EOGERS, OF NASHUA, 
 
 Who was killed in the Battle of August 29th, 1862, near Bull Run. 
 
 
 BY KEY THOMAS GORMAN, 
 
 Preached on Sunday, September 28, at the Universalist Church, Nashua. 
 
 NASHUA; 
 
 J.' R I \ !• £ J> i l- X . H . T E T, F. a £ ,\. ? H F ? I fc ■! « 
 
 1«GV. 
 
ei»o» 
 
 06 ^ 
 
,i 
 
 r4 
 
 SERMON. 
 
 " I HA.VE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT." II. TiM. IV : VII. 
 
 St. Paul used these words in a figure. I take them on the 
 present occasion in a literal sense — as language befitting to 
 put into the mouth of one fallen upon the battle-field and in 
 the service of his country. In their widest sense they may 
 be taken as the motto, nay, the solemn, closing hymn of sac- 
 rifice and victory for every life, conspicuous or humble, 
 which is given and spent in a sacred sense of duty in the 
 place of the Divine appointment. It may be spent as grand- 
 ly as Paul's was ; in perils by land and sea j in prisons and 
 chains ; in scourgings and stonings, — it may be sacrified 
 upon the altar of patriotism upon the field of conflict ; or it 
 may be peacefully spent in homely toils and duties, unnotic- 
 ed and lost in the great whirl of life and the confused cur- 
 rents that bear us all onward to that great breathless, wait- 
 ing mystery of eternity before us ; it is alike sacred and hon- 
 ored before God in all spheres and stations^ if only is found in 
 ii.t the consecratinsr sense of dutv. 
 
Life, at the very best, is a warfare ; and the battle-field 
 has no dangers too terrible to give emblems of what men 
 and women encounter in the c^reat strusrsrle of the world. — 
 Indeed, life is one long battle between good and evil. AH 
 there is noble in human history is comprised in the victories 
 of right over wrong ; of truth over falsehood. All that has 
 been achieved, all that we hold sacred to-day in government, 
 in religion, in individual liberty, are only trophies of that 
 great fight carried on from age to age, where the children of 
 light contend against the legions of darkness and the king- 
 dom of God gains victories over rebel principalities and 
 powers and wickedness aspiring to high places. If we could 
 trace but the least of all those blessings we enjoy as a Chris- 
 tian people to-day, we should find it going back thi'ough 
 long generations to remotest times, and along the way we 
 should find thousands of sacrifices and blood poured out like 
 water for its puixhase. If an Omnipotent Hand should lift 
 but one of those glorious principles, of which Free Institu- 
 tions are the fruit, and hold it up to our view, we should see 
 the whole human race clinging to its roots. Its fibres run 
 into all the institutions of the past and clasp the bones of 
 dead generations back to Adam. Everything valued and 
 cherished in our modern civilization has been fought for, 
 has been suffered for, has cost the noblest sacrifices. This 
 is what has given such sublime significance in Christianity 
 to the word saaijicc. From Him, who gave his life on Cal- 
 vary in this great battle of good against e^il in the world, to 
 the humblest human being, who, amid the phantoms of 
 temptation around him, sees dimly the shining image of duty 
 and follows it, as best he can, we instinctively honor and 
 glorify all, who have, by their lives or by their deaths, help- 
 ed on humanity in the divine progress of liberty, knowledge, 
 justice and truth. He has fought the good fight, who has struck 
 even one blow asrainst the enemies of man and has fallen in 
 his place of duty with his face to the foe. The common 
 good of the race is built up from these individual sacrifice?,, 
 and all men have an interest in honoring them. 
 
5 
 
 This is the reason, my friends, that we are all here as 
 mourners at this time. We have come here with one ac- 
 cord to honor with appropriate religous rites one of the noblest 
 sacrifices which can be made by any hnman being. While 
 we deeply sympathize with these bereaved families in the 
 loss they have sustained in the death of one so near and 
 
 j dear to them, let us remember that we are not uninterested 
 spectators. We have an interest in this event. This young- 
 man, who has nobly given up his life upon the battle-field, 
 impelled by a sense of duty to serve his country, is related 
 
 i to us all by having sacrificed himself for the common good. 
 
 Hehas UteraUij fought a good fight and fallen in defence of 
 
 I principles^and institutions which have made our country 
 
 what it is, a blessed home for us all, the common asylum of 
 
 humanity and the great strong-hold of civil and religious 
 
 liberty in the world. There is not one of us here present, 
 
 who has enjoyed peace and safety since the land has been 
 
 ' convulsed with this terrible civil strife, but owes honor and 
 
 ' reverence to those men, who, at the peril of their lives — 
 
 and thousands unth their lives — have defended our threateu- 
 
 / ed institutions and left it still in our power to say that we 
 
 / have a government and a nationality. And especially when 
 it comes so nearly home to you, who knew Lieut. Rogers — 
 
 , and many of you knew him intimately — it should seem to us 
 a personal bereavement and loss, as it certainly is a public 
 one. Yes ; by this common interest we all have in the cause 
 
 , for which he has fallen, we are all mourners here to day. — 
 We come, not merely to sympathize with those who have 
 lost a son, a husband, a brother, but to mourn with them ; 
 not to obtrude upon the sacredness of private sorrow, but to 
 share with them a mutual grief. We come under the sol- 
 emn sanctions of religion to embalm his memory and to hon- 
 or his sacrifice. 
 
 The little that is left us to do at this time renders this ser- 
 vice the more mournful and affecting. One of the saddest, 
 yet most satisfying consolations to bereaved aff"ection consists 
 in paying the last tender offices of respect and duty to thvj 
 
6 
 
 remains of those we love. It is a solace whicli many of you 
 / sadly rcniembor, to have looked upon a dear and cherished 
 face when deatli had left its grand and awful impress upon 
 it ; to have realized from the calm grandeur of mortality, 
 when that breathless mystery has come upon it, some- 
 thing of the unruffled peace and quietude which await the 
 soul after the fever and confusion of life. The heart takes, 
 I know not what mournful pleasure, in those little duties of 
 affection customary at those times — not serviceable to the 
 dead we know — yet done by us, as if they would be pleasing 
 to them, if they were conscious still of our affection and re- 
 spect. It is a satisfaction not to be lightly valued to know 
 where they rest ; to go at times, chosen by the heart, to their 
 graves; and to shed sweet tears of regret at their memory. 
 It is a comfort you could not purchase from bereaved affec- 
 tion, to rear a memorial stone lettered with the name and age 
 of the beloved one, and to dress the spot with fragrant turf 
 and sow there the seeds of some familiar flowers. I know 
 ' that there are feet in this congregation which have learned 
 the sweet habitude of going to a grave, and hands that have 
 done angel ministries of fondness and beauty at some little 
 spot in the church-yard. Can you tell how much would buy 
 from you those little privileges and offices ? And even if you 
 feel that they afford, as it were, but a mechanical solace to the 
 heart, still what a loss would it be if they were taken away ! 
 
 This is the loss and vacancy which we all of us feel at this 
 itime. Something seems wanting to complete the solemnities 
 of this occasion. Your eyes tiurn in vain to behold the cus- 
 *tomary tokens of death. We have no coffin decked with the 
 " -emblems of mourning. The patriotic pride of our citizens 
 in one of their number, fallen so nobly and honorably on the 
 field of battle, would have demanded a different and more 
 imposing service than we are now able to perform. A more 
 public place would have received his remains ; the flag of 
 our country Avould have covered them ; and a greater con- 
 /course Avould have followed tlicm with mournful strains of 
 
 lit 
 t 
 
/ martial music and with reverent footsteps to their honored 
 resting-place. All this is denied us. We can only sadly 1 
 think of him, as resting where he fell, hastily buried upon ' 
 the bloody field. Far away, beyond the Potomac, we may 
 imagine him Bleeping among the undistinguished thousands 
 who fell upon that fatal day, the 29th. of August. The 
 place has not the quiet beauty and peacefalness of our ceme- 
 teries. You may see there the long ridges of freshly heaped 
 earth, where the slain are buried. The trees are scarred and 
 torn by the shot ; and the ground is still gashed by the wheels 
 of the artillery and the hoofs of war-horses. There he lies, 
 having fought a good fight and done noble service for our 
 coxmtry and for us all. We have now only to imitate the 
 gentle ministry of nature. For mark ! — another Spring will 
 sweeten that bloody field with the breath of flowers, and with 
 delicate fingers will cover the unsightly work of human pas- 
 sion, and will extract beauty even out of the bosom of de- 
 cay. And may the Infinite Lord of pity as gently heal the 
 wounded hearts that bleed to-day and in every nook and cor- 
 ner of memory and affection sow the seeds of healing and 
 consolation to bloom towards heaven. It is not permitted 
 these mourning friends to recover that torn and bloody gar- 
 ment of an immortal soul ; but it is given them to know that / 
 the one they moui-n has nobly done his duty and fallen at a ; 
 time and place where it was glorious to die. They may not 
 gather up his dust and bury it in a spot chosen and hallowed 
 by affe(«Mi ; but it is given them still to bury him in their 
 hearts 9^ consecrate his memory. 
 
 It is a beautiful custom, too, at such a time to recall what 
 is noble and virtuous in the character of the departed and to 
 gather up the little personal recollections that represent to us 
 the living image of their minds. If we could do this only 
 where we found perfection, we should wait in vain. But it 
 is one of the solemn ministries of death, that it rebukes all 
 uncharitableness. You never can utter reproach or blame, 
 where there is only the awful and breathless silence of death 
 
8 
 
 to aliswcr you. You ciui follow a human being to 
 that dark door, through which all must pass, only 
 with reverent feet. Nay, the perpetual impulse of 
 the heart is to idealize and glorify them ; and it is 
 riffht. It is the voice of Nature and of God. 
 
 It is unnecessary for me to speak of Lieut. Eog- 
 ers, as he was known to the most of you. It is not 
 for a stranger to do this. What is left me is to gath- 
 er scanty memorials from his letters and the testimo- 
 ny of his friends. It is permitted me to say of him, 
 ^ in the walks of civil life, that he was a young man, 
 not without faults, but yet of noble, generous nature, 
 capable of redeeming all imperfections and giving 
 /, promise of the highest usefulness as a man and a cit- 
 / izen. His was one of those dispositions that move 
 strongly in whatever path circumstances open to 
 them. Impulsive and strong-willed, it was all-impor- 
 tant what his choice might be in life. He had made 
 that choice. He had opened for himself the door of 
 a useful and honorable career. He had chosen the 
 laborious and truly noble profession of a physician 
 and studied hard and earnestly to fit himself for its 
 duties. The impulsiveness and waywardness of youth 
 had given place to the earnestness and stamlity of 
 manhood ; and he had given reason to his friends to 
 indulge the warmest hopes and anticipations for his 
 future. Thus he stood upon the very threshold of 
 life, when the alarm of war rung through the land. 
 We all remember that wave of intense enthusiasm 
 which swept over the countr}', when it was known 
 that our institutions were in peril and rebel hands were 
 impiously laid upon the palladium of all that we hold 
 sacred xmder the nnmc of the T'nion. Thousands of 
 
yoiilig men sptang to arms. Every village gl'een be* 
 came a parade ground, and the entire North, was turn- 
 ed into a camp. It seemed the mustering drum-beat 
 of the people's heart, summoning all that was manly 
 within them to the defence of what was most sacred. 
 He Was one of the first among that young and ardent 
 multitude who went forth as the advance of those 
 myriads who have followed to the war. I seem to see 
 that long and melancholy train, thousands upon 
 thousands, passing away into the distance until they 
 vanish in the glooms of death I What sacrifices are ^ 
 there ; what hopes are blighted ; what homes are 
 desolated and darkened, as those thinning ranks 
 close nobly up the gaps of battle and press forward, 
 "few and faint but fearless still," against the enemies 
 of their country and of man ! What historian s pen, 
 what poet's song, what orator's impassioned speech, 
 will do adequate honor in future years to those young 
 heroes and martyrs? 
 
 I have heard men speak slightingly of the motives 
 that animate the hearts of those who have gone forth 
 to this terrible service and duty of war. But I be- 
 lieve in all charity they are thoughtless utterances. 
 It does not become those who stand afar off from the 
 dangers of this civil conflict and whose interests are 
 defended by the peril of other men's lives, to speak 
 lightly of the characters and motives of those who 
 are defending our threatened institutions. Wliatev- 
 ever may be the outward bearing of a man exposed 
 to the dangers of the battle-field, there is a sacred 
 interior in every man's nature, where the motives 
 that determine his conduct are to be weighed, and by 
 them alone is his sacrifice to be estimated. I believe 
 that, in the majority of those who have swollen our 
 
 o 
 
10 
 
 immense armies, there is a deep and pervading sense 
 of duty, or an impulsive sense of patriotism, which 
 sanctifies and consecrates their service. The most 
 thoug-htless of men reahze that war is not the play 
 of children, that it requires of them the costliest 
 earthly sacrifices ; and the motives of men for im- 
 periling their lives must not be estimated by their 
 behavior in the lightness of common intercourse or 
 the convialities of the Camj). 
 Every man, w^Iio, at this hour of the counti^'s peril, 
 offers his life to defend it, deser\'es a patriot's name 
 and honor until proved unworthy. I believe that the 
 seriousness of this contest has settled into the hearts 
 of our people, that it has entered into our armies 
 among the common soldiery and that the sacrifices, 
 which this war costs us, are hallowed by motives 
 which proclaim the immortal dignity of man. Why 
 do parents give up their sons and wives their hus- 
 bands, with the stern probabilities of war before 
 them^ Is it a light motive ? Is it deserving of a 
 sneer 1 I tell you these sacrifices are not made but 
 from the most solemn sense of duty, from ardent love 
 and devotion to our country. It is the obedience of 
 a law of nature in us which has no explanation but 
 in God Himself and which Religion sanctions and 
 claims as the very proof of man's immortal worth. 
 It is one of the brightest manifestations of charity, 
 resembling, in the humble way of Humanity, the very 
 sacrifice of Christ. It is one of the very sublimities 
 of human nature, when a man is made to see that 
 there is something better than life itself, for which 
 life is a cheap exchange ; and by whatever name the 
 feeling is called, it is sacred and honored of God and 
 all good men. 
 
11 
 
 It is for this reason that I pronounce honored and 
 sacred the sacrifice before us. I claim it as offered 
 to Humanity and therefore to God. This young life 
 laid upon the altar of patriotism has a double conse- 
 cration. It was consecrated in its own sense of duty 
 and in the sacrifice of affection in the home that sent 
 it forth. We are not to think all heroism is of 
 the battle-field. How much precedes the terrible 
 array of men in arms ! It is in the struggle of affec- 
 tion which yields up at last its cherished object. It 
 is in the parent's heart when it bids a son go forth to 
 the dangers of war ; it is in the heart of the wife 
 who gives up her husband with" tears ; it is in the tor- 
 turing anxiety with which their thoughts follow the 
 march, the encampment and the uncertain progress 
 of war. And when at last the shock of the fatal 
 news has come, not wholly unexpected, yet crushing 
 in its terrible reality after all, and the long vacant 
 years loom up in the future, uncheered by that cher- 
 ished voice and presence, and the long sighs to be 
 heaved at his memory through life begin to burst from 
 the overloaded heart, we are able to gather a concep- 
 tion of how much enters into such a patriotic sacri- 
 fice and to see its value before God in a cause like 
 that of our country. "I have fought a good fight,'" — is 
 it little to say this for one who has fallen thus, in his 
 country's service and .in the noble discharge of asol- 
 oier's duty 1 
 
 I have dwelt thus upon the spirit which animates 
 our soldiers and our people, because we have a no- 
 ble example of it in the life and character we are 
 considering. In Lieut. Rogers we behold a patriotic 
 sense of duty, leading him to give up the fairest pros- 
 ])ects in life, to sacrifice what seems hardest of all to 
 
1 «w 
 
 yield, the comforts and delights of a home blest with 
 unusual affection and rendered still dearer by a new 
 relation, the strongest and most sacred on earth — and 
 to undergo the privations of the Camp, and the wast- 
 ing labors and dangers of war. Those who best 
 knew him and were best acquainted with the motives 
 which influenced his conduct, bear witness that no 
 expectations of place or profit stood in the place of 
 duty with him, Anxious to serve only in the station 
 to which his merit promoted him or assigned him, he 
 voluntarily relinquished the chances of a higher po- 
 sition and took that of the lowest commissioned of- 
 ficer in his Company. He labored faithfully to per- 
 fect himself in the duties of his place and to fit himself 
 for any place which the chances or promotions of 
 war might assign him. To his worth and efficiency 
 as an officer there is constant testimony. He was 
 stanch and reliable in the hour of danger ; and his 
 sense of duty was carried into minutest details of 
 camp service. It was the testimony of his superior 
 officers that when it came his turn to perform the 
 extra duties of the camp, they were sure they would 
 be faithfully done. His own exactness in his duties 
 made him exacting of the men under his eommand. 
 But this so far from creating aversion and dislike on 
 their part, increased their respect and confidence. 
 The most insubordinate will recognize the essential 
 qualities of a good leader in the man who brings 
 them up to their duty at all times and will look to him 
 in the hour of danger. He himself relates in one of 
 his letters over-hearing one of his Company who had 
 least reason to like him for his severity, saying that 
 "he could not help liking that llogers even if he was 
 so strict with him." Testimonv like this shows the 
 
13 
 
 blending in his character of the rare qualities which 
 secure at once the love and the respect of even the 
 worst men. 
 
 But his care and consideration for his men at all 
 times evince the kindliest feelings of heart. In camp 
 or on the march, he w^as always attentive to the wants 
 and comforts of his men. Those who have written 
 home have spoken of his kindness with gratitude and 
 affection. One writes as follows : "Such acts of 
 kindness as we received on the march from Lieut. 
 Rogers will long be remembered, always relieving 
 his men w^ho falter by the way, carrying their guns 
 or knapsacks and speaking kind and encouraging 
 words." Another wTites : Our Company's health is 
 good and we are much indebted for this to Lieut. Ro- 
 gers. He, being a physician, gives us much good ad- 
 vice and his words are always well received." It is 
 most gratifying to gather such testimonies as these : 
 for amid the rough scenes and associations of war 
 such little humanities are easily neglected ; but when 
 bestowed they are almost angel ministrations. By 
 such pleasing tokens as these we understand the well- 
 merited tribute to his character by Col. Marston : 
 "His death is mourned, not only by the members of 
 his own Company, by whom he was greatly beloved, 
 but also by the officers and men of the whole regi- 
 ment." 
 
 It is not permitted me to speak of those deeper 
 affections of the heart, by which a man is most inti- 
 mately known and longest and most tenderly remem- 
 bered. The sorrows of affection are sacred from 
 the public gaze ; w^e may respect but we cannot 
 share them. But a constant correspondence shows 
 how much the thoughts of home were in his mind ; 
 
14 
 
 ;ni(l liow fondly, amid the dangers of war lie carried 
 and cherished tlie images of loved ones in his heart. 
 If I were to speak in fnll of the services which as 
 a soldier, he has rendered to the country, I should 
 trace almost the entire course of the war in Virginia 
 from its commencement to the recent battles before 
 Washington. lie was among the volunteers called 
 out by the first proclamation of the President, and 
 took part in the first great battle of the war, the dis- 
 astrous en<i:a<irement of Bull Run. He was in the 
 ijrand armv of the Potomac in its advance towards 
 llichmond ; before Yorktown ; in the bloody conflict 
 at Williamsburg ; and in most of that long series of 
 battles from the Chickahomny to the James River. 
 The 2d. N. H. Regiment won a glorious reputation 
 for brilliant courage and daring in that sanguinary 
 campaigii. Its hand-to-hand conflicts with the ene- 
 my are among the bravest actions of the war and 
 more than once contributed to the salvation of the 
 army. And brave even among these brave men was 
 the man we now honor and mourn. It was his lot, 
 while holding but a lieutenant's commission, to com- 
 mand and lead his Company a great share of the time 
 during this campaign. It was the fatality of war and 
 the will of Providence that he should lead it for the 
 last time upon the very field where he fought his first 
 battle. After the transportation of Gen. McClellan's 
 army from the James River to the Potomac, his reg- 
 iment Avas among those ordered to support the strug- 
 gling columns of Pope and hurl back the enemy in 
 their threatening advance upon the Capitol. They 
 Avere engaged for two days upon the very field of the 
 first battle of Bull Run. The regiment had been re- 
 duced to a mere skeleton ; they were tJie relics of 
 
15 
 
 many battles. His own Company numbered scarce 
 more than thirty men. Young in years but veterans 
 in service ; few in number but true as steel, they 
 were relied upon for the most trying and hazardous 
 emergencies. On Friday the 29th. of August, the en- 
 tire brigade to which they belonged, the first brigade 
 of Hooker's division, were ordered forward to make 
 a bayonet charge upon the rebels in a piece of woods, 
 where they were massing themselves for an attack. 
 Forward they sprang with a shout, their ranks thin- 
 ned at every step by a terrible discharge of musket- 
 ry, never wavering, closing up the gaps in their ranks, 
 and fell upon the enemy with the bayonet. Down 
 went one line of the rebels before this terrible cliarge- 
 Another closed up behind and ranged a bristling 
 hedge of steel across their way. Upon this too they 
 threw themselves, when even a third line came for- 
 ward to dispute their advance. This was more than 
 human strength and endurance could withstand and 
 the wearied and decimated line wavered and recoiled. 
 It was at this point that Lieut. Rogers fell while ral- 
 lying and encouraging his men for another attack. 
 He was shot through the body, the ball entering and 
 passing through the left side, a little above the hip. 
 Two men of his Company — privates Albert F. Bax- 
 ter, and E. Dascomb — seeing him fall, took him up 
 and carried him towards the rear, when he revived 
 and with his last thought Still intent upon his duty, 
 sent one of the men back to the Company and at- 
 tempted to walk with the assistance of the other- 
 He soon sank down, however, speechless and appar- 
 ently dying. The enemy were pressing close upon 
 them and his friends were obliged reluctantly to leave 
 him. Absolute certainty cannot be obtained ; but it 
 
IB 
 
 is most probable that his death was immediate. His 
 body was identified and buried by the Medical Direc- 
 tor, who went upon the fiold with a flag of truce for 
 that purpose. Xo mark was left to distinguish the 
 l)lacc where he was buried : and the mournful satis- 
 faction is denied his family of recovering'his remains, 
 and giving them appropriate burial. 
 
 Thus fell in the service of his country Lieut. Syl- 
 vester Rogers, at the age of twenty-four years, hon- 
 ored and beloved by his companions in arms and hon- 
 ored for his sacrifice by all who knew him. The tri- 
 bute af esteem and affection given to his memory by 
 the officers and men of his regiment is a noble and 
 tender one, — something more than a mere formality 
 of regret, a most earnest expression of profound feel- 
 ing. If space would permit, it would give me pleas- 
 ure to quote from letters written from the camp to his 
 friends and relatives, filled with delicate expressions 
 of sympathy and of genuine and heartfelt sorrow for 
 a mutual loss. One says that he first learned of his 
 death from Col. Marston who Avept like a child in 
 speaking of him. I cannot forbear to read to you a 
 short extract from a letter written by Col. Marston to 
 the parents of Lieut. Rogers. After mentioning the 
 circumstances of his death and burial, he concludes 
 thus ; "His death is mourned, not onlv bv the mem- 
 bers of his oaa n Company, by whom he was greatly 
 beloved, but also by the officers and men of the whole 
 regiment. You will find some consolation in your 
 bereavement, in the reflection that your son died as a 
 soldier would wish to die, bravely fighting for his 
 country, for the Union, and for those institutions of 
 government which have made us the freest and the 
 most ])rosperous peoi)le ui)on earth. True, you have 
 
n 
 
 lost a son ; but you will remember with pleasure and 
 with pride that his life and his death were alike hon- 
 orable." 
 
 These are indeed consoling thoughts to you, my 
 dear friends, who mourn the death of a son, of a 
 husband, of a brother. You had reason to expect 
 and were in a measure prepared for such a casualty. 
 The dangers of war leave little room to expect a 
 safe return to the daring soldier. Yet the realiza- 
 tion could coiue only with the loss. Our hearts are 
 pained for you and we all of us, I trust, appreciate 
 the value of the sacrifice you have made and feel 
 with you how heavv is the burden of sorrow vou bear. 
 May 1 direct you to Him who bears our sorrows with 
 an infinite strength and who made the Captain of our 
 salvation perfect through suffering. I believe that 
 the heart of the Infinite l''atlier, Avho gave His only 
 begotten Son also to die in this great "war of good 
 against evil on earth, feels also your sorrows and ac- 
 cepts your sacrifice as holy and resembling His own. 
 If He beholds even the sparrow's fall and numbers 
 the hairs of our heads, not a tear falls, not a sigh is 
 heaved from a human heart, not a generous, heroic 
 act of self-devotion, is unnoticed or unappreciated by 
 Him. In His name I pronounce your sacrifice beau- 
 tiful and complete, if, v>ith it, you give your trust to 
 His love and your submission to His will. You, who 
 as parents, mourn with a natural grief the loss of a 
 son, have learned, I trust, in the spirit of a beautiful 
 faith to say : "Thy will be done." You are not whol- 
 ly bereft. Other children remain to you, to be the 
 support and honor of your declining years. You 
 will be drawn closer together and gain in the sympa- 
 thy of sorrow a sweeter mutual support. You, who, 
 
18 
 
 as a Avife, have found your life thus early clouded 
 with bereavement, so recently a joyful bride, so soon 
 parted from him v/hose manly strength vt'ould have 
 been your life-long support and womanly pride ; what 
 words of sympathy can fathom your loss ^ Commun- 
 ion alone with the Source of all strength and conso- 
 lation and the healing ministry of time will enable 
 you to accept your lot and bow submissively to God's 
 heavy hand. You will learn at last to take a plea- 
 sure in his memory, and the sharpness of regret will 
 be blunted with time and the hope of meeting in a 
 world, where war, and evil and death are never known. 
 And you, Avho have lost a brother whom you loved, 
 what lessons of duty and virtue come to you from his 
 example. Since Providence has taken from your 
 family one of the pillars of its pride and support, so 
 much the more remains for you. If the home circle 
 is narrowed, let it be so much the dearer and strong- 
 er with affection. Let this bereavement be a bond 
 of closer union for you all. You will feel how strong- 
 ly God draws human hearts together and upwards to 
 His own by taking from them the object they love 
 best on earth. And finallv, let us all learn the lesson 
 the occasion teaches — the beauty of a life given to 
 duty — the glory of sacrifice for our country — the ac- 
 ceptablcness of any service Avhich promotes a righte- 
 ous end — the immortal worth of a soul that can feel 
 motives nobler than the love of life — -the tenderness 
 of the Divine Heart even while it permits man to 
 suffer for virtue's sake — and by the drawing of the 
 heart from earth to Heaven in the death of frieads, 
 the certainty of a heme for all amid its scenes of glo- 
 ry and spiritual progress. May it be ours also to say 
 \\ith reference to life's duties and service : — "I have 
 fought a good fight." 
 
t: 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 013 760 268 4