the shaggy Thor with his mallet of brute force. This is
hardly to be wondered at when we hear England called prosperous for the
strange reason that she no longer dares to act from a noble impulse,
and when, at whatever page of her recent history one opens, he finds
her statesmanship to consist of one Noble Lord or Honorable Member
asking a question, and another Noble Lord or Honorable Member
endeavoring to dodge it, amid cries of _Hear! Hear!_ enthusiastic in
proportion to the fruitlessness of listening. After all, we are
inclined to think there is more real prosperity, more that posterity
will find to have a deep meaning and reality, in a democracy spending
itself for a principle, and, in spite of the remonstrances, protests,
and sneers of a world busy in the eternal seesaw of the balance of
Europe, persisting in a belief that life and property are mere
counters, of no value except as representatives of a higher idea. May
it be long ere government become in the New World, as in the Old, an
armed police and fire-department, to protect property as it grows more
worthless by being selfishly clutched in fewer hands, and keep God's
fire of manhood from reaching that gunpowder of the dangerous classes
which underlies all institutions based only on the wisdom of our
ancestors.

As we look back to the beginnings of the Rebellion, we are struck with
the thoughtlessness with which both parties entered upon a war of whose
vast proportions and results neither was even dimly conscious. But a
manifest difference is to be remarked. In the South this
thoughtlessness was the result of an ignorant self-confidence, in the
North of inexperience and good humor. It was long before either side
could believe that the other was in earnest: the one in attacking a
government which they knew only by their lion's share in its offices
and influence, the other in resisting the unprovoked assault of a race
born in the saddle, incapable of subjugation, and unable to die
comfortably except in the last ditch of jubilant oratory. When at last
each was convinced of the other's sincerity, the moods of both might
have been predicted by any observer of human nature. The side which
felt that it was not only in the wrong, but that it had made a blunder,
lost all control of its temper, all regard for truth and honor. It
betook itself forthwith to lies, bluster, and cowardly abuse of its
antagonist. But beneath every other expression of Southern sentiment,
and