CHAPTER XXXVI.

Love of Country.

UR country! Do we love her? Will we at need yield for her our very heart's blood? Is she dear to us beyond any other, so that the sight of her flag streaming from turret or mast-head thrills us with joy, and, when seen in a foreign port, brings the quick tears to our eyes? When our country is threatened by a foe, are we ready to defend her, pledging her our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor? sing with all our souls,

Can we

This is as it should be, but no one is a true patriot who is merely sentimental about his country.

In this great mother-land of ours, there are not a few men, older and younger, who are so indifferent to the country's welfare that they hold aloof from politics and lightly prize the freeman's birthright, the ballot. They explain that bribery and corruption have invaded legislative halls, that primary meetings are the resorts of the vulgar, that gentlemen stand aloof from elections. So charging their generation and their period, whether falsely or truly, with a great shame and sin,

they do nought to improve matters, but simply play the coward's part, and refuse to take a personal interest in the ruling of their own America. Cynical, hostile, or indifferent, it is all one; they are practically enemies to the land which calls them her sons. A share in her government is the birthright of every man born into a free country, and if he despise his birthright and shirk its obligations, he is to be pitied and condemned.

The Fourth of July used to be so kept by our people that it was an important educator in patriotism. Early in the morning we were awakened by the thunder of cannon from fort and fleet, or from the village green, then the children, rushing to the windows, saw everywhere the red, white and blue of our flag, floating from roof and spire. There was a sense of music in the air, jubilant, ecstatic, throbbing and pulsating, in drum beat and bugle call. By and by there was the parade, soldiers marching behind their banners, cavalry in stately procession riding down the street, and then came the fathers of the town, the ministers and elders and deacons, the city magnates, people of dignity and position, and the trade representatives, and by and by the Sunday-school children in white frocks and ribbon sashes, or in white trousers, and jackets with brass buttons, according as they were girls or boys.

The Declaration of Independence was read, and everybody listened and absorbed its lofty sentiments. Do our children still know the names of the signers of that immortal document, do they yet admire the bold screed of John Hancock, and the clear chirography of Samuel Adams, and sympathize with the spirit which induced Charles Carroll to add "of Carrollton" after his name? We studied those names as we did our alphabet. Patriotism was part of our education. Not less were we taught to look upon America as God's hallowed ark of freedom, the asylum for the oppressed of every land and nation. "God save the Commonwealth!" we were taught to add to our prayers.

"God bless our native land!

Firm may she ever stand!"

Let our flag stream from the schoolhouse and flutter from the ships and wave over our heads as we walk through our streets. Only a bit of bunting? Yes, but it means liberty, obedience to law, protection to the weak, freedom of conscience, and equal rights for all men. Only a bit of bunting? Yes, but it means what men would gladly die for; it is the flag of our country. God bless it and save it!

"EVERY American woman should be familiarly acquainted with the history of her own country, its constitution and form of government. She should know

that the stability and permanency of a republic depend upon the intellectual, moral and religious character of the people; upon this broad principle she must act, and endeavor to induce everybody to act, over whom she exercises influence. To enter as a fiery partisan into the contentions of political opponents is unbecoming the delicacy and dignity of female character. Men talk much of a conservative principle. We trust we shall not be accused of presumptuousness if we name one: A high moral and intellectual character in the women of our country, that shall make them true patriots, preserving a consistent neutrality, and exerting their influence for the good of the whole. Leaving government, and all its multifarious concerns, to those to whom the all-wise Creator has delegated authority, let us be content with that influence which is 'pure, peaceful, gentle, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.'

“Let not a meddlesome spirit, in matters that do not concern you, mar the pleasures of social intercourse. Must they, who fly to your society for relief from the jarrings of men, be teased with the perpetual din? Has the miasma of politics infected the whole moral atmosphere? Is there no elevated ground, where they can breathe a purer air, and escape for a while into a serene and tranquil region? We remember, some time since, hearing a gentleman say of a great statesman, who was his intimate friend, that, in the society of an amiable and interesting young lady whom he admired, he was like a great mountain by the side of a little flower, and forgot that he was a mountain.'

"A man possessing political influence is sometimes, in society, beset by a swarm of female philanthropists, urging their claims, or, as they call them, the claims of humanity, of benevolence, etc. 'Now, sir, you cannot refuse me that slight favor.' 'Do vote, for my sake, on my side; I shall be superlatively grateful.' What is a gallant man to do? If he drive off this swarm, like the fox in the fable, another more clamorous may succeed, until he is robbed of every drop of enjoyment in society. And is it certain that every politician has principle enough to withstand these fair petitioners, when they urge him contrary to his own better judgment? A sage and potent Senator, one of the most polite and elegant men in the world, once confessed that he left the Senate-chamber, when a vote was taken on a question in which a splendid woman of his acquaintance was deeply interested, because he could not vote against her while her dark eyes were fixed upon him from the gallery. True, it was a question of no great importance to the welfare of the country, and involved no party interests; but his opinion and his vote were sacrificed to his chivalrous gallantry."

Through Death to Life.

Have you heard the tale of the aloe plant,
Away in the sunny clime?

By humble growth of a hundred years

It reaches its blooming time;
And then a wondrous bud at its crown
Breaks into a thousand flowers.
This floral queen in its beauty seen

Is the pride of the tropical bowers.
But the plant to the flower is a sacrifice,

For it blooms but once and in blooming dies.

Have you further heard of this aloe plant,
That grows in the sunny clime,
How every one of its thousand flowers,
As they droop in the blooming time,
Is an infant plant that fastens its roots

In the place where it falls to the ground,
And fast as they drop from the dying stem
Grow lively and lovely around?

By dying it liveth a thousand fold

In the young that spring from the death of the old.

Have you heard the tale of the pelican,

The Arab's Gimel el Bahr,

That dwells in the African solitudes

Where the birds that live lonely are? Have you heard how it loves its tender young, And cares and toils for their good?

It brings them water from fountains afar,

And fishes the sea for their food.

In famine it feeds them-what love can devise!— With blood of its bosom, and feeding them dies.

Have you heard the tale they tell of the swan,
The snow-white bird of the lake?

It noiselessly floats on the silvery wave,
It silently sits in the brake;