I confess without shame that I am tired and sick of war. Its
glory is all moonshine. Even success the most brilliant is over
dead and mangled bodies, the anguish and lamentations of
distant families appealing to me for missing sons, husbands, and
fathers. It is only those who have not heard a shot, nor the
shrieks and groans of the wounded, friend or foe, who cry aloud
for more blood, more vengeance, more desolation.

The South is the better by far for the spread of education, the
willingness to work, the loss of slavery, the maintenance of the
Union, and the development of business. But for war as war,
there is no redeeming feature, no benefit to any one, not one word
to be said.

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