“After Life’s fitful fever” they who fought and suffered and died all “sleep well.” “There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave.” While governments shall endure and organized society of human order shall continue, the ceaseless contest will go on between Law and Liberty. As the temperaments of men vary they will differ as to which side of that struggle they should or will espouse; and Human Wisdom will forever be insufficient to avert occasional conflict. From it, however, will emerge Peace; and as the parties to the struggle and their children’s children look back upon the contention that once raged, they will come more and more clearly to see that it was inevitable; and they will look with kindlier judgment upon the motives which inspired antagonistic forces. They will also see in the outcome and settlement a Final Cause, shaping events and determining results, one that could not be recognized in the smoke and dust of the immediate battle; but which the clear, cold light of History makes visible to all who would see the Truth. In his matchless lyric of the Civil War, the most sublime note that has been sounded from all the literature inspired by that great National Crisis, Will M. Thompson, in his “High Tide at Gettysburg,” attains this lofty strain: But who shall break the guards that wait Before the awful face of fate? The tattered standards of the South Were shriveled at the cannon’s mouth, And all her hopes were desolate. In vain the Tennessean set His breast against the bayonet; In vain Virginia charged and raged, A tigress in her wrath uncaged, Till all the hill was red and wet! Above the bayonets mixed and crossed Men saw a gray, gigantic ghost Receding through the battle cloud, And heard across the tempest loud The death cry of a nation lost! The brave went down! Without disgrace They leaped to ruin’s red embrace; They only heard fame’s thunder wake, And saw the dazzling sunburst break In smiles on Glory’s bloody face! They fell who lifted up a hand! And bade the sun in heaven to stand; They smote and fell who set the bars Against the progress of the stars, And stayed the march of Motherland! They stood who saw the future come On through the fight’s delirium; They smote and stood who held the hope Of nations on that slippery slope, Amid the cheers of Christendom! God lives! He forged the iron will, That clutched and held that trembling hill! God lives and reigns! He built and lent The heights for Freedom’s battlement, Where floats her flag in triumph still! Fold up the banners! Smelt the guns! Love rules. Her gentler purpose runs, A mighty mother turns in tears The pages of her battle years, Lamenting all her fallen sons! ADDENDA. NOTE A.