The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1864-09-21

| In tho Spring Of 1861, the senior, then
sole Editor Of the TINES, was in Dubuque
a week or two on public business. During
his absence JSo. T. SroSEMAN, Esq, of this
city, kindly took the editorial helm. April
18th, 1851, the following editorial leader
from Mr.. SIS pen was published. If rumor
spoke truth at the time, this Office and the
author Of the article were threatened with
mobbing, for its publication. The prophetic
character Of the article has caused it to be
spoken of frequently since, and now, at
the request of many persons, among others
His Honor, Judge WILLIAMS Of this Dis.
trict, we reproduce it:
war. >
II any credit can be given to the tel-lie.
graphic dispatches that come to US. the
bloody god of war is about to hold high
carnival in our oncc happy and peaceful
country. Commerce is to be the prey OF
the pirate, the ocean is to echo with the
sound of hostile cannon, navies will ride
the wave in search Of flying merchantmen,
invading armies will devastatc rich plains
and fertile valleys, flames will wrap cities
and villages in their devouring embrace, the
busy hum of machinery will be silenced,
and ten thousand factory wheels will rot
while their operators are marching to the
soul-stirring music of the martial fife and
drum from one field Of slaughter to another.
The garments rolled in the blood of revo.
lutionary heroes have not passed away be-
fore contending armies of brothers mingle
in the dreadful shock of battle over the
hallowed graves Of Washington and Sum
ter. The Federal City is q camp, with
frowning cannon and glittering bayonets
ranged along its streets and posted amid
the halls of Congress, which even yet echo
with the eloquence of Webster, a Clay,
and an Adams.
Knots Of people gathered on the Street
corners, talk Ct war, of battles, and sieges
as fippantly as though it were holiday
sport and the subject Of q Jest, and not the
greatest calamity that ever befell nation
War with q foreign power is bad enough,
but when neighbor lies in wait for neighbor,
brother stabs at the heart of brother, and
men of common ancestry murder, rob and
plumber each other at the paternal hearth.
stone, it is surely time for good men to pray
that bitter cup like this may pass from
US.
Who can read the history Of the French
Revolution and not weep over the recital
When one faction struggled to overpower
another and thousands of the noblest hearts
Of the empire beat their last throb beneath
the blade Of the gullotine; when the prs-
ons grow foul with crowded inmates when
Vendome, the most beautiful of provinces,
with its waving fields of grain, its lowing
herds and its happy people, was reduced
| to q desert; its inhabitants driven to des.
pair, and fleeing from banded assassins,
were driven for refuge to the caves and
forests, finding there hiding place to lay
| their emacated forms, until starvation aud
death freed them from their enemies. Lib
erty had degnnrated to anarchy anarchy
resulted in prescription, until the strong
arm of tyrant alone could save the ma
ton from self destruction. Go read the
| history oe .s,as d-.>1fai -.;.no, and you can
see as in the glass Of prophecy the shifting
scenes that are in store for us. You can
read there he Jacobinical hatred between
the Radicals and the Mountain. in the halls
of Congress. You will find there the sui
len Bobispere, the gloomy Marat and bloody
Danton urging the excited populace to
madness, until the streets Of Washington
will be a barricaded camp, and its borough
fares run with the blood of those who have
attempted to stay the mad torrent of sec
tional hatred and partisan malignity.-
Another Madam Roland sill stand upon
Capitol Hill, her neck barred for the keen
edge of the suiotine, looking down on the
rabble who clamor for her innocent blood,
while high and clear above the storm of
hisses from the mob, will ring out the words
-"Oh, Liberty! how many crimes are
committed in thy namer' With devasta-
ted States, cities laid in ashes, with the
plough. share fashioned into weapons oil
death. and the laborer into the soldier, the
untitled fields will no more blush with the
ripening harvests, commerce and manufac
lures will vanish, and the gaunt form Of
famine will stalk in the streets or hide in
the dens Of poverty and despair.
He who dares to lift further the veil Of
the future, will see ambition placing its
iron heel on the PROSTATE neck of the peo-
pie and on the ruins of the republic, erect
ing the last refuge from civil war. the throne
Of a military dictator. Who will NOT
pause on the verge Of this dread abyss,
who will not raise his voice and bid the
winds and the waves Of discord-"Peace
be STILL"