ate every quarter of
society; a great river is let loose from the rugged mountain-recesses of
the people; its waters, saturated with Nature's simple fertility, cover
the whole country, and will not retire without depositing their renewing
elements. A sincere and humble people Is feeling the exigency. A million
families have fitted out their volunteers with the most sumptuous of all
equipments, which no Government could furnish, love, tears of anxiety
and pride, last kisses and farewells, and prayers more heaven-cleaving
than a time of peace can breathe. What an invisible cloud of domestic
pathos overhung for a year the course of the Potomac, and settled upon
those huts and tents where the best part of home resided! what an ebb
and flow of letters, bearing solemnity and love upon their surface! what
anxiety among us, with all its brave housekeeping shifts, to keep want
from the door while labor is paralyzed, and the strong arms have beaten
their ploughshares into swords! What self-sacrifice of millions of
humble wives and daughters whose works and sorrows are now refining the
history of their country, and lifting the popular nobleness: they are
giving _all that they are_ to keep their volunteers in the field. The
flag waves over no such faithfulness; its stars sparkle not like this
sincerity. The feeling and heroism of women are enough to refresh and
to remould the generation. Like subtle lightning, the womanly nature
is penetrating the life of the age. From every railroad-station the
ponderous train bore off its freight of living valor, amid the cheers
of sympathizing thousands who clustered upon every shed and pillar, and
yearned forward as if to make their tumultuous feelings the motive
power to carry those dear friends away. What an ardent and unquenchable
emotion! Drums do not throb like these hearts, bullets do not patter
like these tears. There is not a power of the soul which is not
vitalized and expanded by these scenes. But long after the crowd
vanishes, there stands a woman at the corner, with a tired child asleep
upon her shoulder; the bosom does not heave so strongly as to break its
sleep. There are no regrets in the calm, proud face; no, indeed!--for it
is the face of our country, waiting to suffer and be strong for liberty,
and to put resolutely the dearest thing where it can serve mankind. In
her face read the history of the future as it shall be sung and written
by pens which shall not know whence their sh