The Lost Cause. 243
most of us by the recollection of dear ones sacrificed in its struggle. I would preserve, fresh as the flowers of spring, the recollection of all the virtues displayed in the Confederate contest.
Though a lost cause though branded by authority of the victor as treason, and its followers as traitors, I, for one, am not ashamed of it. My holiest memories cluster around it. No power can storm the fortress of a resolute heart. When the Confederate banner was furled, we, as Confederates, in sadness accepting the result, while weeping bitter tears of unfeigned sorrow, and experiencing the poig- nancy of keenest grief at the termination of our efforts and disap- pointment of our fond hopes, in good faith assumed allegiance to our present government, and have maintained it ; but it would be hypocrisy to pretend it was by choice, as it is treason to the memory of our gallant dead to confess the heart-condemned falsehood that our cause was not just. Our cause was just, our purpose honorable and upright, and attempted to be maintained by as noble a band as ever struck valiant blows for freedom and right. Falsehood cannot blacken it, malignity and calumny cannot disgrace it, misapprehen- sion cannot dishonor it. It can never become odious until the men and women of the South forget what they owe to the memory of the gallant dead. Can this day ever come? Never, while the highest virtues of manhood find worshippers. Patriotism will always com- mand respect. It is a principle inseparable from ourselves as social beings. Heroism excites admiration wherever displayed. It de- mands and receives tribute from the human heart, even though exhibited by the savage Modoc. When beheld in upholding the right, admiration swells into enthusiasm. We but do honor to the nobler impulses of the soul in cherishing with grateful and affec- tionate remembrance the memory of our sleeping heroes, and are only true to ourselves, in annual commemoration of their sacrifices, by decorating their nameless graves. They were patriots. They loved their country and died for it. They were heroes, and dis- played their heroism in gallantly striving to maintain the right.
Then let choicest flowers be thickly strewn by fair hands and pure hearts above our sleeping heroes, and if the unbidden tear shall drop, betokening awakened sympathy with a cause for which they fell, let not carping envy sit in judgment on the sacred grief of the heart and call it treason. Let us ever preserve a memorial of our struggle and its patriot heroes. The rainbow which spans the heavens amid the cloud, and with its varied hues of unrivalled brilliancy ravishes with its beauties all beholders, is a memorial of the covenant made
