ng honor those who
vindicated the insulted majesty of the Republic, and struck at her
assailants so long as a drum-beat summoned them to the field of duty.

Citizens of Boston, sons and daughters of New England, men and women of
the North, brothers and sisters in the bond of the American Union, you
have among you the scarred and wasted soldiers who have shed their blood
for your temporal salvation. They bore your nation's emblems bravely
through the fire and smoke of the battle-field; nay, their own bodies are
starred with bullet-wounds and striped with sabre-cuts, as if to mark
them as belonging to their country until their dust becomes a portion of
the soil which they defended. In every Northern graveyard slumber the
victims of this destroying struggle. Many whom you remember playing as
children amidst the clover-blossoms of our Northern fields, sleep under
nameless mounds with strange Southern wild-flowers blooming over them.
By those wounds of living heroes, by those graves of fallen martyrs, by
the hopes of your children, and the claims of your children's children
yet unborn, in the name of outraged honor, in the interest of violated
sovereignty, for the life of an imperilled nation, for the sake of men
everywhere and of our common humanity, for the glory of God and the
advancement of his kingdom on earth, your country calls upon you to stand
by her through good report and through evil report, in triumph and in
defeat, until she emerges from the great war of Western civilization,
Queen of the broad continent, Arbitress in the councils of earth's
emancipated peoples; until the flag that fell from the wall of Fort
Sumter floats again inviolate, supreme, over all her ancient inheritance,
every fortress, every capital, every ship, and this warring land is once
more a, United Nation!

CINDERS FROM THE ASHES.

The personal revelations contained in my report of certain
breakfast-table conversations were so charitably listened to and so
good-naturedly interpreted, that I may be in danger of becoming
over-communicative. Still, I should never have ventured to tell the
trivial experiences here thrown together, were it not that my brief
story is illuminated here and there by a glimpse of some shining
figure that trod the same path with me for a time, or crossed it,
leaving a momentary or lasting brightness in its track. I remember
that, in furnishing a chamber some years ago, I was struck with its
dull aspect as