A Lesson for the Faint-Hearted.
Wylliesburg, Va., March 21st, 1862.
To the Editors of the Dispatch:
We are, to some extent, wrapped in the mantle of gloom and uncertainty.
The serious reverses of fortune which we have recently sustained, has been the Pandora to the hopes of many of our people, and become a breaker of gigantic proportions in the great high way of their once firm and enthusiastic confidence in the ultimate triumphant and glorious success of our efforts.
There are those among us, ‘"living and having their existence in our midst,"’ whose timid, despondent and irresolutenesses have led them to believe our cause a hopeless one; who can already paint in vivid and striking colors the mode of our complete subjugation, the deprivation of our freedom, the plunder of our property, and our doom to unconditional servitude and bondage.--They read already with fear and trembling the unsparing mandate of Lincoln, in his imperial authority measuring out death to the leaders of this ‘"untimely rebellion,"’ and riveting the chains of vassalage upon the followers.
With however much contempt we may regard all such respondents, and treat with derision their ‘"infantile"’ philosophy, yet every atom has its weight.--The constant drop of water will wear away the stone.
We often, of late, hear the harrowing and unfounded expression fall from the lips of those of whom we have reason to expect better things, ‘"I believe we will be whipped."’ While such an expression may emanate from one whose loyalty is unimpeachable, and whose confidence in our triumph is firm and unconquerable, on the other hand it may, and frequently does, come with gen sincerity of the heart.
These despondent must communicate their fears and anxieties.
Though timid and backward at first, the frequent escape of thoughtless expressions, in the character of a jest, from individuals of known standing and firmness, will impart tone and confidence.
Converts will be made, While we have the most immovable confidence and faith in the genuine ‘"gril"’ of the Southern people as a nation, yet we know that all are not composed of that iron texture of which Beauregard and Johnston are made.
Hence, impressions, dangerous impressions may be made from the slightest indentures on the exterior surface.
Therefore, those of our citizens who are in the it of uttering such thoughtless expressions, in the form of ‘"fun,"’ should remember the serious evils which may be thus originated.
In reality, these are not the times for such jests.
We want truths now, couped with united, vigorous, and determined action.
Enough gloom now pervades the hearts of our people.
The loss of friends; the destruction of property; the gnawing anxiety occasioned on account of the uncertainty connected with the termination of this distressing yet glorious conflict — all, all combine to make that gloom more dense.
While those who have in reality desponded should smother their feelings and sentiments beneath the covering of their own become, and ponder along, they should glide on the page of history, back--
To the Editors of the Dispatch:
‘"Where grow the of war and peace;"’
‘"Where Deles rose and P sprung"’--
to that lovely and classic land — the cradle of Freedom, the home of Liberty — and learn there how to act amid convulsions of the kind with which we are afflicted, &c.
Ajay E.
