My dear Mr. Bowes,
I have just read an account of the great bereavement you have suffered in the loss of two noble sons who fell in defence of human liberty and have gone to swell the honour roll of the greatest heroes the world has ever known. My heart goes out in sympathy to you and your family with a comprehension of your grief which is known only to those who have likewise suffered.
I have lost a son myself in whom I had built my life’s hopes and I have realized the cost of this cruel war to those who pay the bitter price. I command no powers to express the measure of my sorrow for you. This is the class of fateful stroke which makes us not want to write or speak but to let our hearts in silence ache.
May I, for your comfort, point to the rays of hope now dawning of the realization of the ideals for which our precious boys poured out upon the battlefield their sweet red wine of youth; to this early morning of a new world epoch when in reward of the heroic dead, it will be to mankind to know that real happiness can only be attained through the spirit and practice of that lofty altruism which inspired them to die.
Very Sincerely,
Joseph Boweston
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