836 HILLS AND LAKES. 



a loud hurrah, from these honest Quakers, which 

 showed that the old man was strong within them. 



In plain view from where I stood is the little 

 island on which the killed in that memorable battle 

 were buried. There, in the midst of the lake, side by 

 side, in amity, rest the bones of those who struggled 

 against each other on that day of mortal strife. Death 

 is a queller of animosities, and the hands that struck 

 at each other in life, are quiet enough in the grave. 

 Brave men are sleeping on that little island. It should 

 be regarded as consecrated ground, and a tall monu- 

 ment should be erected to their memory. It should 

 be made to speak of the noble daring of the men who 

 periled and lost their lives for their country. There 

 are no rich men buried there. No titled men. They 

 were the sailors, men who stood by the great guns, 

 and whose breasts were bared to the foe. They were 

 what the world calls common men, and who, had they 

 survived the battle, would have lived and died with- 

 out fame ; but they are just the men who win victo- 

 ries, and bring fame to commodores and generals, and 

 upon who&o bravery hangs the result of the battles. 

 Over tho T )ones of these brave men buried here, 

 these poo* men, these sailors, these " common men," 



