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had no illusions as to an easy victory. He knew that it was doubtful, and yet he declined the highest rank in his profession that he might serve his own State. These words of his to his son express his feeling almost better than anything else could do: "I know that wherever you may be placed you will do your duty. That is all the pleasure, all the comfort, all the glory we can enjoy in this world." In these words, the keynote of his whole life, lie the explanation and defense if there still be any need of defense in this day of a united and understanding country- of Lee's decision.

At the time of the centenary celebration of Lee's birth, the Outlook, in an editorial, expresses the best thought of the Nation to-day as to the choice of Lee and his comrades: "If willingness to sacrifice what is passionately prized next to honor itself is any criterion as to the degree of patriotism that begets such sacrifice, then the Southerners of whom Robert E. Lee is the type are to be counted among the patriots whose lives constitute the real riches of the Nation."

In spite of Lee's great ability as a general, the Southerners were defeated, and Lee surrendered to General Grant at Appomattox on April 12, 1865.

There is no need to add to the already lengthy discussion as to whether Lee or Grant was the greater general. Both were superbly great, and no finer memory has been left to Americans than the meeting of the two at Appomattox as the leaders of two noble American armies struggling for conflicting theories of government.

After the war Lee became president of Washington College in Lexington, Virginia. The name of this was changed to Washington and Lee University a few years later.

Lee died early on the morning of October 12, 1870. The South mourned the death of its great leader. The North joined in paying tribute, not only to a great soldier, but to a

great character. There can be no better expression of what the North had come to see in Lee than the words of the New York Herald at the time of his death:

"On a quiet autumn morning, in the land he loved so well, and, as he held, served so faithfully, the spirit of Robert Edward Lee left the clay which it had so much ennobled, and traveled out of this world into the great and mysterious land. The expressions of regret which sprang from the few who surrounded the bedside of the dying soldier, on yesterday, will be swelled to-day into one mighty voice of sorrow, resounding throughout our country, and extending over all parts of the world where his great genius and his many virtues are known. For not to the Southern people alone shall be limited the tribute of a tear over the dead Virginian. Here in the North, forgetting that the time was when the sword of Robert Edward Lee was drawn against us, -forgetting and forgiving all the years of bloodshed and agony, - we have claimed him as one of ourselves; have cherished and felt proud of his military genius as belonging to us; have recounted and recorded his triumphs as our own; have extolled his virtue as reflecting upon us for Robert Edward Lee was an American, and the great Nation which gave him birth would be to-day unworthy of such a son if she regarded him lightly.

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"Never had mother nobler son. In him the military genius of America developed to a greater extent than ever before. In him all that was pure and lofty in mind and purpose found lodgment. Dignified without presumption, affable without familiarity, he united all these charms of manner which made him the idol of his friends and of his soldiers, and won for aim the respect and admiration of the world. Even as, in the days of his triumph, glory did not intoxicate, so, when the dark clouds swept over him, adversity did not depress.

From the hour that he surrendered his sword at Appomattox to the fatal autumn morning, he passed among men, noble in his quiet, simple dignity, displaying neither bitterness nor regret over the irrevocable past. He conquered us in misfortune by the grand manner in which he sustained himself, even as he dazzled us by his genius when the tramp of his soldiers resounded through the valleys of Virginia.

"And for such a man we are all tears and sorrow to-day. Standing beside his grave, all men of the South and men of the North can mourn with all the bitterness of four years of warfare erased by this common bereavement. May this unity of grief- this unselfish manifestation over the loss of the Bayard of America - in the season of dead leaves and withered branches which this death ushers in, bloom and blossom like the distant coming spring into the flowers of a heartier accord."

J. G. de Roulhac and Mary T. Hamilton (Adapted)

DIXIE

IN a little hut, near Mount Vernon, Ohio, lived an old minstrel, Daniel Decatur Emmet, or as most people called him, "Old Dan Emmet," the composer of Dixie.

Content he was with his clean little home, his small garden, and his chickens. Many years before, while traveling with a minstrel troupe through the North, he had been asked by the manager to compose a new song for the walk-a-round. He was given only tw days in which to do this.

It had been the custom of these troupes to make tours of the South, and it was a customary thing to hear different ones make the remark, if they happened to be in the North during the winter, "I wish I was in Dixie."

As Emmet was standing at the window on the last day he looked at the dreary, drizzly landscape and this same desire came to him. He took his old violin and in a short time had composed the

song which has become one of the most popular songs of this country.

Emmet was a Northern man, a Northern sympathizer, but the song was immediately taken up by the South and used as their song. The whole country rang with it.

A song which was written to express the feelings of a Northern man, became the song of the South.

I WISH I was in the land ob cotton,
Old times dar am not forgotten,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land whar I was born in,

Early on one frosty mornin',

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus

Den I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie Land I'll take my stand,

To lib and die in Dixie,

Away, away, away down South in Dixie,
Away, away, away down South in Dixie.

Old Missus marry "Will, de weaber,"
Willium was a gay deceaber;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.
But when he put his arm around 'er,

He smiled, as fierce as a forty-pounder,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber,

But that did not seem to greab her,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Old Missus acted the foolish part,

And died for a man dat broke her heart,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Now here's a health to de next old Missus,

And all de girls dat want to kiss us;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land! But if you want to drive 'way sorrow,

Come an' hear dis song, to-morrow,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land!

Dar's buckwheat cakes an' Ingen batter,

Makes you fat or a little fatter,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. Den hoe it down an' scratch your grabble,

To Dixie's Land I'm bound to trabble,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Daniel Decatur Emmet

THE LITTLE DRUMMER

'T IS of a little drummer,

The story I shall tell;

Of how he marched to battle,
Of all that there befell,

Out in the west with Lyon

(For once the name was true!) For whom the little drummer beat

His rat-tat-too.

Our army rose at midnight,

Ten thousand men as one,

Each slinging off his knapsack
And snatching up his gun.

"Forward!" and off they started,
As all good soldiers do,

When the little drummer beats for them

The rat-tat-too.

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