s, so upon this
day six years ago I am disposed to believe through our own efforts,
it dramatically touched the climax of its great argument.

The time that has since elapsed enables us now to look back and to
see things in their true proportions. We begin to realize that the
years we have so recently passed through, though we did not
appreciate it at the time, were the heroic years of American
history. Now that their passionate excitement is over, it is
pleasant to dwell upon them; to recall the rising of a great people;
the call to arms as it boomed from our hilltops and clashed from our
steeples; the eager patriotism of that fierce April which kindled
new sympathies in every bosom, which caused the miser to give freely
of his wealth, the wife with eager hands to pack the knapsack of her
husband, and mothers with eyes glistening with tears of pride, to
look out upon the shining bayonets of their boys; then came the
frenzy of impatience and the defeat entailed upon us by rashness and
inexperience, before our nation settled down, solidly and patiently,
to its work, determined to save itself from destruction; and then
followed the long weary years of doubt and mingled fear and hope,
until at last that day came six years ago which we now celebrate--
the day which saw the flood, tide of rebellion reach the high-water
mark, whence it never after ceased to recede. At the moment,
probably, none of us, either at home or at the seat of war, realized
the grandeur of the situation, the dramatic power of the incidents,
or the Titanic nature of the conflict. To you who were at home,
mothers, fathers, wives, sisters, brothers, citizens of the common
country, if nothing else, the agony of suspense, the anxiety, the
joy, and, too often, the grief which was to know no end, which
marked the passage of those days, left little either of time or
inclination to dwell upon aught save the horrid reality of the
drama. To others who more immediately participated in those great
events, the daily vexations and annoyances--the hot and dusty day
--the sleepless, anxious night--the rain upon the unsheltered
bivouac--the dead lassitude which succeeded the excitement of action
--the cruel orders which recognized no fatigue and made no
allowance for labors undergone--all these small trials of the
soldier's life made it possible to but few to realize the grandeur
of the drama to which they were playing a part. Yet we were not
wholly oblivious of