Year: 1859

The white banner of peace has again foatcd
over the troubled states and kingdoms of the
Old World; sunny Italy, the land of poetry
and song, has again been given up to the noble
patriots she so proudly calls her sons, and a
prayer of praise and shout of joy has gone
up from the great, throbbing heart of our own
western nation, to the "God of Hosts and the
Lord OF Battles" who has again allowed US to
catch faint glimpse of the star of liberty
arising in the East.


Peace, with its attendant blessings has cast
welcome silence over the camp and the battle
field but there still comes murmuring voice
from beyond the Hide Atlantic, telling of
decisive battles and brilliant victories, and in
the midst of each, stopping to whisper to us,
the illustrious name of Garibaldi. History
and Song are both busy weaving new laurels
for the conquerors; but the sigh and .he tear
of the widow or the orphan alone are left to
tell the story of the conquered. But there are
other Conflicts other victories, more precious in
tie eye of the invisible Father, than these,
which have, indeed, kindled a fame of glory
in the land that gave them birth-yet, at the
same time, cast q dark cloud over many of the
once happy hearth-stones of Italy.


There are battles fought aud victories won, of
which the world know nothing-battles for
| the right, victories over wrong, which none
but the registering Angel sees and compre-
hends More honor is due to him who ban
ishes an evil thought from his heart or an un-
kind word from his lip, than to those who have
taken cities or proclaimed peace from the bro
ken walls of Palaces. Alexander would have
found it more difficult to conquer self than to
humiliate the world he called his own, together
with the other for which he wept. Selfgov-
ernment is more difficult, yet when once ac-
complished is more noble. He, who subdues
every selfish principle which lies hidden in his
heart, comes forth from the trial like gold tried
| in the fire. Such an one is firmly established
in the "narrow way" that sometimes leads
among thorns but which eventually ends ''where
! the weary are at rest" How many such vic
tors there are, who toll wearily yet hopefully
on, never expecting to be Laurel-Wreathed on
earth, yet hoping to be eAngel-Crowned in heav-
en-. And when the "gelden bowl" at last, "is
broken and the silver cord is loosed," when the
unknown victor lies quietly down where the
"green mounds and marble monuments" alone,
tell the story ee quiet -aoPa the Spirit
Land, where the cold, silent stars keep their
lonely yet tireless vigil above the "City of the
Dead" like so many sentiuels mournfully watch
ing around the ruins of what was once the
dwelling of the living-amid all these sad re-
membranes, how few, how very few will know
of the conflicts and the battles SO nobly fought
by the spirit whose "clay tenement" lies
mouldering at their feet; how very few will
wonder that the "cypress wreath" should have
so soon been planted where the "Laurel'
might have proudly waved. But for all this
none the less sweet will be the sleep, none the


less joyous the waking of these sainted dead


How many such "siIent victories" there never


have been recorded in the annals of earthly


warfare yet are indellibly written side by side


with the ames of those stwho have fought the
good fight"


Each of our hearts, then, is battlefield
God the commander ourselves the warriors
conscience and divine grace the weapons.


In proportion to the zeal with which we en-


fer into the contest, shall we lose or win. Los


ihg-we lose oU1 gaining-we secure anothe


gem for the Eternal Crown laid up for us above
another palm of victory which we shall reciev
mot on earth, but when the "pearly gates ar
left ajar" for n. to enter heaven.