he longest, if
only our hearts not fail us. Women need not beat their pewter spoon
into bullets, for there are plenty of bullets without them. It is not
whether our soldiers shall fight a good fight; they have played the man
on a hundred battle-fields. It is not whether officers are or are not
competent; generals have blundered nation into victory since the world
began. It is whether this people shall have virtue to endure to the
end,--to endure, not starving, not cold, but the pangs of hope
deferred, of disappointment and uncertainty, of commerce deranged and
outward prosperity checked. Will our vigilance to detect treachery and
our perseverance to punish it hold out? If we stand firm, we shall be
saved, though so as by fire. If we do not, we shall fall, and shall
richly deserve to fall; and may God sweep us off from the face of the
earth, and plant in our stead a nation with the hearts of men!

O women, here you may stand powerful, invincible, I had almost said
omnipotent. Rise now to the heights of a sublime courage,--for the
hour has need of you. When the first ball smote the rocky sides of
Sumter, the rebound thrilled from shore to shore, and waked the
slumbering hero in every human soul. Then every eye flamed, every lip
was touched with a live coal from the sacred altar, every form dilated
to the stature of the ideal time. Then we felt in our veins the pulse
of immortal youth. Then all the chivalry of the ancient days, all the
heroism, all the self-sacrifice that shaped itself into noble living,
came back to us, poured over us, swept away the dross of selfishness
and deception and petty scheming, and Patriotism rose from the swelling
wave stately as a goddess. Patriotism, that had been to us but a dingy
and meaningless antiquity, took on a new form, a new mien, a
countenance divinely fair and forever young, and received once more the
homage of our hearts. Was that a childish outburst of excitement, or
the glow of an aroused principle? Was it a puerile anger, or a manly
indignation? Did we spring up startled pygmies, or girded giants? If
the former, let us veil our faces, and march swiftly (and silently) to
merciful forgetfulness. If the latter, shall we not lay aside every
weight, and this besetting sin of despondency, and run with patience
the race set before us?

A true philosophy and a true religion make the way possible to us. The
Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whom