excitement of the fight passed off, and I worked more calmly and methodically. I cannot say whether or not my shots had any effect, but for the most part I directed my fire toward a kind of blockhouse in which there were a large number of Spaniards. At one stage of the fight the enemy made a movement toward our right, and the troops on the left, considerably scattered, were ordered to march "by the right flank, double time." It was not until this moment that I realized the horror of war. There was a man named Irvine in our troop with whom I had been thrown a good deal. We had become as close friends as an acquaintanceship of several weeks could make us, and we had been fighting together a good deal. In executing the order just mentioned he was a little in front of me and to one side, both of us running; there were a number of dead around, and several wounded that had not been taken to the rear, and the sight of them stirred me greatly; but as I looked at the man in front of me the breath left my body for the moment as the whole top of his head flew up in the air, his skull blown to atoms by an explosive

A Comrade's Head
Shot Off.

bullet.

He fell heavily with a thud, and I ran on past his body, but I knew at last the meaning of the phrase, "The art of war." He was the only man that I saw killed; it was but a short time before the enemy were run out of their position, retreating toward Santiago. We lost about sixty killed, wounded and missing, a little less than 10 per cent, and the Rough Riders buried 105 Spaniards. A fitting end to the battle was the burial of our own dead; they were all put in one grave. The men were grouped with bared heads around the grave, while the chaplain read a chapter from the Bible; then all sang "Nearer, My God to Thee." "Taps" were sounded over the grave, and the services ended with prayer.

T

WHEN THE GREAT GRAY SHIPS COME IN.

BY GUY WETMORE CARRYL.

O eastward ringing, to westward winging, o'er mapless miles of sea, On winds and tides the gospel rides that the furthermost isles are free,

And the furthermost isles make answer, harbor, and height, and hill, Breaker and beach cry each to each, ""Tis the Mother who calls! Be still!" Mother! new-found, beloved, and strong to hold from harm,

Stretching to these across the seas the shield of her sovereign arm,
Who summoned the guns of her sailor sons, who bade her navies roam,
Who calls again to the leagues of main, and who calls them this time home!

And the great gray ships are silent, and the weary watchers rest,
The black cloud dies in the August skies, and deep in the golden west

Invisible hands are limning a glory of crimson bars,

And far above is the wonder of a myriad wakened stars!

Peace! As the tidings silence the strenuous cannonade,

Peace at last! is the bugle-blast the length of the long blockade,

And eyes of vigil weary are lit with the glad release,

From ship to ship and from lip to lip it is "Peace! Thank God for peace!"

Ah, in the sweet hereafter Columbia still shall show

The sons of these who swept the seas how she bade them rise and go;

How, when the stirring summons smote on her children's ear,

South and North at the call stood forth, and the whole land answered "Here!"

For the soul of the soldier's story and the heart of the sailor's song
Are all of those who meet their foes as right should meet with wrong,
Who fight their guns till the foeman runs, and then, on the decks they trod,
Brave faces raise, and give the praise to the grace of their country's God!

Yes, it is good to battle, and good to be strong and free,

To carry the hearts of the people to the uttermost ends of sea,
To see the day steal up the bay where the enemy lies in wait,
To run your ship to the harbor's lip and sink her across the strait :-
But better the golden evening when the ships round heads for home
And the long gray miles slip swiftly past in a swirl of seething foam,
And the people wait at the haven's gate to greet the men who win!
Thank God for peace! Thank God for peace, when the great gray ships
come in!

AMERICAN PATRIOTISM IN WAR.

The Loyalty that Guards with Unconquerable Courage the National

W

Banner.

BY CARL SCHURZ.

to

HATEVER Spain may think as to her honor, whether it be satisfied or not, it is clear that neither in courage nor in intelligence are her navy and army capable of coping successfully with the sailors and soldiers of the United States. These have added new names to the list of our national heroes, and new glories to our constellation of victories. It has been the fashion say that long years of peace and commercialism have sapped the spiritual virtues of our people, and that so engrossed have we been in the arts of money-making, so corrupted have we become in consequence of the partnership which interested persons have succeeded in establishing between the government and private business interests, that the war spirit and the war courage have gone out of our blood. It was the habit of the superficial diplomats which the continental nations of Europe are accustomed to send to Washington to sneer at us, as the French have sneered at the English, as a nation of "shopkeepers," and immediately before the breaking out of the present war these gentlemen filled the drawing rooms of the capital with the prediction that there would be no war, because the Yankees were too fond of money to fight. But the prophets of cowardice are now seeing their mistake, just as the French ought to have recognized their mistake long ago on the field of Waterloo.

The Prophets of
Cowardice.

The American people in arms are fighting as they have always fought, and as they will probably continue to fight whenever they make or accept war. In this war they have already given abundant evidence of a wonderful morale, a steadiness of heart, a coolness of head, and, above all, of a fervid patriotism. On sea and land these men of arms of ours have gone into action with the dash, the discipline, and the cautiousness of old campaigners. Only once has there been a question raised as to the self-possession or selfrestraint of any of our men who have met the enemy, and that in the battle of Sevilla Heights, where there may have been a little recklessness and a too eager push forward, not at all surprising when we consider the freshness

of the command and the eagerness shown by both officers and men to fight. But, on the other hand, there was so much glory won in that hard struggle by and for those who were in it, for the American name, for all of us, that the excess of enthusiasm, if there was any, is worthy of mention only to forestall a criticism that might be invited by what would appear as too liberal praise to such minds as often miss the splendor of a perfect night in their analysis of the revelations of a spectroscope. We owe this explanation to the "Rough Riders" who fought in those fearful woods where bullets rushed from mysterious shadows, because we would not by any apparent minuteness of ignorance on our part have their demerits discussed by critics who might be silent were they warned in advance that slight spots on a glorious life are invisible, not only to the generous, but to the truly appreciative eye. From Manila to Guantanamo and Sevilla Heights our sailors and soldiers have done their duty in obedience to skillful and altogether worthy officers. Dewey's entrance into the harbor of Manila was itself one of those splendid examples of intelligent and brave temerity that mark the men capable of them as the geniuses of war. The deed of courage which was performed by Hobson and his men is but a conspicuous example of the conduct of our sea and land forces on every occasion that has been presented to them. The cable-cutting at Cardenas and elsewhere, the reconnoissances under fire, the eagerness manifested by every one of our fighting souls-all these, physical, intellectual and spiritual, make the sinking of the "Merrimac " part of a great drama which lifts up the heart and head of every American citizen.

An Example of Brave Temerity.

For, believe as we may have done concerning the wisdom of the war, this eager courage to carry the flag into the heart of an enemy's country, to plant it above his sinking ships and his crumbling forts, this rush after the colors to the very death, this reckless-The Fusing of Many ness of life, this wonderful enthusiasm and joy in battle,

Races Into One.

are the phenomena of a deep and abiding patriotism, of a love of country as strong and as hot as that which ever possessed any people in this nineteencentury-old world. We will go further than this, for our belief is that this love of country is more generally felt, more widely distributed, here than in any other land in the modern world. The American citizen, whether he be born of English forebears or not, whether he be born here or elsewhere, is defending his own political power, is vindicating his own right to exercise political power, when he arms himself for the defence of his government. This heterogeneous race of what our delightful and courteous foes call "Yankee pigs" is not so heterogeneous when the real meaning and character of the republic are considered. We may not be men of one blood, but

we are men of one mind. We may have been born under despotisms or constitutional monarchies or pretended republics, but we live in a true republic, we possess a democracy, and it is as certain as that men will continue to be governed, that our democracy will remain regnant, because both those who are the offspring of the men who established it on the basis of the English democracy, and those who have come under its benignant power, who grow in grace by means of its kindly developing force, will always insist on its maintenance.

A Patriotism Sufficient For Any Emergency.

These people of different origins have a common purpose and a common destiny, and each man thinking himself worthy of the company of kings is not only more self-respectful and more self-confident than subject people, even when these have the most glorious traditions for the nourishment of their national pride, but necessarily has also more respect and love for the govern ment of which he is part, which has been so rich in performance for him, and is so rich in promise for his descendants. This nation does not receive its character from the parents of its citizens, but from the institutions which have filled the world with the glory of English-speaking peoples; which have brought liberty into the cottage, and have applied the limitations and restraints of the golden rule to the palace; which have put the people's happiness above the prince's profit; which have established a common justice for the ruler and the ruled; and which have prospered humanity by unshackling the genius of the individual. These institutions and the aspirations that are born of them make America and Americans; and when the government, which is the creature and defender of these institutions, demands the service of its people, it addresses the patriotism of men who love it as they love themselves and their families. The old world never made a greater mistake than in supposing that the republic does not have the love of its own rulers because the grandfathers of many of the rulers were not born here. Its cynics and its false prophets are learning the truth now-learning that the patriotism of America is such that, when the direful occasion comes, the citizen becomes an energetic, courageous and intelligent soldier, the like of whose associated qualities cannot be found in European armies. This is the great truth shown by the war, a revelation which may work wonders in a world ready for almost any teaching of democracy. And all who love America for the virtues which are hers, and for the virtues which she breeds, will never wish her less of patriotism in war, but always more of the patriotism resting on the broad foundations of her peaceful and habitual achievements.