WAR

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 298, 23 February 1878, Page 4

W AR

If war luis its chivalry ami its pageantry, it has also its hideousness and its demoniac woe, Bullets respect not beauty. They tear out the eye, shatter the jaw, ami rend the cheek. Mercy abandons the arena of battle. The frantic war horse with iron hoofs tramples upon the mangled face, the throbbing and inflamed wounds, the splintered bones, and heeds not the shucks of torture. Crushed into the mire by the wheels of heavy artillery, the victim of war thinks of mother, father, sister, home, and moans and dies ; his mangled corpse is covered with a few shovelfuls earth, and left as food for vultures and dogs, and he is forgotten. He who loathes war, and trill do everything in his power to avert it, but who will, in the last extremity encounter its perils, from love ot country and of home—who is willing to sacrifice himself, and all that is dear to him in life, to promote the well-being of his fellow man, will ever receive a worthy homage.— WaverJey.