So at last Charleston has fallen, plucked like the golden apple of the fable that turned to ashes in the grasp. The great news is like wine to the pulse. The early telegrams were thought too good to be true. What a picture was that which the _Tribune’s_ correspondents presented to us on Tuesday morning, of the flag hoisted once again upon Fort Sumter, even though waving from an oar blade for lack of a flagstaff. The rebellion is humbled in the city of its first haughtiness. Boastful, braggart Charleston skulks away from itself, and surrenders without firing one shot in its own defense. The only heroism of the retiring traitor was in exploding powder for the horrible burning of their old women, children and old men. Having lately robbed both the cradle and the grave, they make a strange variety in their barbarous custom by now heaping the cradles into the graves. What a hideous sight saluted the eyes of the Union troops as they entered the city—helpless human beings, scalded, burned, mutilated by those who ought to have been their protectors; a city set on fire by its own garrison when not a flame could touch its enemy’s head, but only singe and roast its own inhabitants. Terrible is the self-inflicting retribution which an all-wise Providence has decreed against this cockatrice’s den. Except for Charleston, the rebellion would never have been, and except Charleston had been terribly scourged by the war, poetic justice would have failed. But “vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” No battle and praises—worthy defeat! No stout defense and honorable capitulation! Nothing but the hanging of a hound’s tail between his swiftly running legs! Oh, shame, where is thy blush? Was there any city in the South that specially boasted its chivalry? That city was Charleston! Oh, fallen Babylon! Oh, elegant city of splendid lies! Rear now a monument to thy shame and inscribe the obelisk with the wisdom of Solomon: “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall!” Now comes the question, will it ever be worth while to rebuild Charleston? Is her name worth saving? Is her site worth a memory on the maps? Is her sin less guilty than Sodom’s and her punishment to be less heavy than Gomorrah’s? And underneath it his many friends read with some surprise a note from Bob Dingley, whom the new management styled “a distinguished Union citizen who is now free to express his sentiments.” The rebellion is at an end, and now why not discard old, worn-out theories? Let every good citizen take the oath of allegiance. These good Union men are our best friends. See how they supply bread to our citizens. What more is there to hope from the flying rebels? Let every true man acknowledge allegiance to the best government that ever was. Yours for Liberty and Union,