out and solving problems which
have disturbed and puzzled the wisest and most astute. At such times
impertinent intermeddlers abound, who claim to interpret the oracles,
and who would hasten the birth of events by acting as midwife. It is
impossible to dispose of or silence such people. We should be careful
that we are not misled by their egregious pretensions. The fact is, the
whole history of our race should teach us a lesson of profound humility.
We do not accomplish half so much for ourselves as is accomplished for
us. True, we have something to do. The seed will not grow if it be not
planted; but all our skill and cunning can not make it spring up and
blossom, and bear fruit in perfection. Neither can man work out events
after a plan of his own. He is made, in the grand drama of this world,
to work out the designs of the Almighty. We must accept this or accept
nothing. In this light how futile are the intemperate ravings of one
class, the unreasonable complaints of another, the cunning plots of a
third. We see no escape from a threatening danger, we perceive no path
out of a labyrinthine maze of evil; when, lo! through some apparently
trifling incident, by some slight and insignificant occurrence, the
whole order of things is changed, the impending danger vanishes, and we
thread the labyrinth with ease.

We believe God will provide us a way out of our present troubles. Only
we must do our duty, which is to maintain our common country, our flag,
the Republic ENTIRE.

Thus much at present. Where this war is to carry us, what shall be its
effect on us as a people, what great changes are in progress, and what
may result from them, we will discuss at the proper time, in a future
number.

IS PROGRESS A TRUTH?

'Human nature has been the same in all ages.'
'Men are pretty much the same wherever you find them.'

If there be anything in this world from which it would be desirable to
see men delivered, it is from a certain small, cheap wisdom which
expresses itself in general verdicts on all humanity, and enables the
fribbler or dolt who can not see beyond his nose to give an offhand
summary of the infinite. There is 'an aping of the devil' in this
flippant assumption of our immutability, which strangely combines the
pitiful and painful. Oh! if the _ne plus ultra_ which antique Ignorance
complacently inscribes on the gates of its world should ever be worn
away, let it be replaced by this owlish _credo_ in t