ture of the case, and the exact position in
which she stands; but she is playing a bold and desperate game for the
active support of foreign powers. She knows well that the sympathies of
the ruling classes abroad are naturally on her side, and she will
maintain the struggle to the last extremity, so long as a gleam of hope
shines in that quarter. That hope finally extinguished, she knows
perfectly well her cause is lost.

The contrast in the financial condition of the contending sections is of
itself enough to settle the question of ultimate success. The Federal
Government stands this day stronger than ever in the plenitude of her
boundless resources, and proudly contemptuous of all the false
prophecies of failure and bankruptcy. She is fully prepared for new
campaigns, and cannot be dismayed by any possible disaster. She has men
and money in abundance sufficient for any emergency. She can stretch
forth one hand to relieve the suffering people of England and Ireland,
while with the other she fights the great battle of liberty against
slavery, of humanity against wrong and oppression. Secure in the
sympathies of the masses of men everywhere, she stands on the solid
ground, which can never be withdrawn from under her feet. She occupies
the central position of freedom and progress, around which cluster and
gravitate the hopes and aspirations of all mankind. The conflicting
elements may rage and storm; the solid ground may tremble, and even be
torn with earthquake convulsions and superficial ruin; but the grand
central structure, with its organizing forces, and its inward heat of
humanity, with the great life-giving sun of liberty yet shining undimmed
upon it, will still remain the refuge of all nations, and the chosen
home of all the lovers and champions of human freedom.

* * * * *

Oh! why, sweet poet, is thy strain so sad?
Couldst thou not stamp thy joy on human life?
Yea, even the saddest life has many joys.
Couldst thou not stamp thy joy upon the page,
That they who should come after thee might feel
Their spirits gladdened by it, and their hearts
Made lighter with thy lightsomeness? For thou,
They say, wert joyous as a summer bird,
The very light and life of those who knew thee--
Oh! why, then, is thy song so sad? 'Tis wrong,
'Tis surely wrong, to spend in fond complainings
The talents given for nobler purposes;
And he who goes about this world of ours