mourning weed and cypress-wreath for the burial!
Her disconsolate sisters beyond the sea were
quite prepared to administer, not exactly to her
relief but—upon her estate !—But blessed be the
Lord God the young giantess did not die ! Presently
there gleamed from that glazed eye a flash of the old
fire! There was a re-knitting of wasted sinews!
a quickening and deepening of the old vital flood!
the stricken one staggered to her feet again; she
breathed heaven's pure air and drank the living
water, and grew strong, and walked abroad! and
her old flag floats again! her old eagle soars! She
concluded to defer dying, at least for the present!
our disconsolate English cousins can not have their
"wake" yet! Sir Lytton Bulwer writes glorious
romances, but rather fails as a prophet! And God's
hidden meaning of love in these American provi¬
dences lies a little too deep even for the stupendous
plummet of Earl Russell's intellect!
Blessed be God we are saved! But how % By
blood-letting!—the good old allopathic, and only
infallible remedy for this plethora of avarice ! We
are saved from this deadly evil of Peace, by the
sharp, but smaller evil of War! The thunder of
cannon in Charleston harbor broke the lethargy
that was fast destroying the national life—and
every true heart thanks God this day that this
death-spell was broken, even by the tramp of armed
men and the roar of the battle!
And in emergencies like this surely even war is