The North American Review. July, 1863. Contents: Traits of Jean Paul and his Titan; Peerages and Genealogies; The Chronology, Topography, and Archæology of the Life of Christ; Story's Roba di Roma; Liberia College; Samuel Kirkland; Leigh Hunt; Acarnania; The American Tract Society; May's Constitutional History of England; Critical Notices, &c.
EDITOR'S TABLE.
The Suspense.—Seldom, in the eventful course of human affairs, have great nations, with their rich and populous cities, been placed in the attitude of danger and of solemn suspense in which the American people find themselves at this momentous crisis. Even while we write this sentence, a great battle is raging in one of the fairest valleys of Pennsylvania, and although the actual struggle is destined to be decisive in its bearing, there is no possibility of knowing how the strife goes from hour to hour. Issues of immense and incalculable importance are involved in the immediate result: the cities of Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, to say nothing of the existence of the nation itself, so gravely imperilled, on the one hand; and Richmond, with all the desperate hopes and daring purposes of the rebellion, on the other, are the mighty stakes played for in the bloody game now going on upon the chessboard in the vicinity of Gettysburg.
With the overthrow of Lee's army, and its effectual cut off from escape, not only will come the speedy fall of Richmond, but the rebellion itself will be virtually at an end; for it will never be able to recover from the blow. On the other hand, with the complete discomfiture of our own army, we should be temporarily at the mercy of the enemy, as we do not seem to have contemplated the contingency of defeat, and have made little preparation for it. The victorious Lee would drive our shattered forces into Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, and would follow close upon their heels with his irresistible columns. Dark would be the day for our country and for human liberty, and terrible would be the struggle made necessary afterward to enable us to recover from so great a disaster. Assuredly we would be able to recover; and in this fact lies our great superiority over the adversary, who stakes his all upon the issue of this desperate and reckless invasion into the heart of the loyal States. But, with all our confidence in the justice and ultimate triumph of our cause, how great is the patriotic anxiety with which our hearts are burdened, and how intensely earnest are the prayers we offer to the Most High for the success of our noble army in the pending battle! In our excited imaginations, we see only the impenetrable cloud of smoke which envelops the bloody field; we hear the loud thunders of the murderous artillery, the rattle of musketry, the groans of the wounded and dying, and the shouts of infuriated columns as they rush into the jaws of death, and are rolled away on the fiery billows of the mighty conflict. We feel all the frenzy of the deadly strife as if we were in the midst of it; and yet, though we strain our inward vision to the utmost, no ray of light comes from the terrible scene to inform us how the scale of victory inclines. We only know that thousands of our brothers lie on the battle field dead or dying, wounded and suffering, and we anticipate the melancholy wail which their wives and children, their brothers and friends will utter on the morrow. Shall it be mingled with shouts of victory, and softened by the sweet consolation that the death and suffering of so many noble victims have been repaid by the safety of our country, and the reëstablishment of liberty under the glorious Constitution of our fathers?
The Relief.—Time rolls on. In spite of anxieties and torturing uncertainties; over broken hearts and ruined hopes; over fields of slaughter, where the harvest of death has been garnered in abundance so great as to sicken the soul of man; over pillaged cities and countries laid waste; over all the works of man, good and bad, time rolls on, careless alike of the joys and sorrows, the victories and defeats of men and nations. And, with the steady and remorseless march of time, events, however bound up with the mightiest interests of mankind, necessarily hasten to their consummation. The web of fate is unravelled—the tide of battle flows in its irrevocable course, and having stranded the hopes of the defeated power, there is no ebb, no reflux, by which the disaster may be undone, and the ruined cause restored again to prosperity and hope.
Gradually the cloud breaks away from the battle field, and the various incidents and accomplished results of the contest become known. The silent, faithful wires, stretching away to the intervening cities and villages, are burdened with their mysterious messages, to be delivered from time to time to the expectant crowds who await them with eager impatience. With the dawn of Independence Day, some gleams of light come up from the scene of conflict, and some encouraging words are heard from high quarters. In their patriotic assemblages, the people are full of hope and confidence, though still not without intense anxiety with regard to the final result, yet imperfectly made known. Every additional message, with which the wires tremble, makes the hopeful impression stronger and stronger; and, upon the whole, the 4th of July, 1863, is a day of rejoicing to all those who love their country and desire to see it restored to its pristine vigor and glory. Scarcely a doubt remains that the daring traitors have been defeated and the country saved; though it is yet uncertain whether the victory will be complete and the army of the enemy scattered and destroyed or captured.
If by possibility Lee should again escape and make his way back to the exhausted fields of Eastern Virginia, there may still be some hard work for our armies in order to put a final end to the great rebellion. But the failure of this last desperate enterprise gives the deathblow to the wicked and ambitious power of the usurpers at the head of the pretended confederacy. They may obstruct our march and harass our armies, but they can no longer hope to place any permanent obstacle in the way of our progress toward the restoration of the Union. The tide has turned at last. We have seen the darkest day of our mortal struggle, and the hour of deliverance is at hand.