The Scenes On This Field Would Have

I Am Tired And Sick Of War. Its Glory Is All Moonshine. It Is Only Those Who Have Neither Fired A Shot Nor Heard The Shrieks And Groans Of The Wounded Who Cry Aloud For Blood, For Vengeance, For Desolation. War Is Hell.

Grant Stood By Me When I Was Crazy.

This War Differs From Other Wars, In This Particular. We Are Not Fighting Armies But A Hostile People, And Must Make Old And Young, Rich And Poor, Feel The Hard Hand Of War.

The North Can Make A Steam Engine, Locomotive Or Railway Car; Hardly A Yard Of Cloth Or A Pair Of Shoes Can You Make. You Are Rushing Into War With One Of The Most Powerful, Ingeniously Mechanical And Determined People On Earth - Right At Your Doors. You Are Bound To Fail. Only In Spirit And Determination Are You Prepared For War. In All Else You Are Totally Unprepared, With A Bad Cause To Start With.

You Might As Well Appeal Against The Thunder-storm As Against These Terrible Hardships Of War. They Are Inevitable, And The Only Way The People Of Atlanta Can Hope Once More To Live In Peace And Quiet At Home, Is To Stop The War, Which Can Only Be Done By Admitting That It Began In Error And Is Perpetuated In Pride.