But though Byron and Heine were thus rapt up into the mountain in visions, their daily walk and life were in the world; its dust and soilure cling to them, we see them wavering and going astray. Their very wanderings bring them nearer to us, who sojourn; their desire, their aspiration, their failures make the wiser use of opportunity possible to any of us who may have been born away from home.
Not here in the populous town, In the playhouse or mart, Not here in the ways gray and brown, But afar on the green-swelling down, Is the home of my heart.
There the hillside slopes down to a dell Whence a streamlet has start; There are woods and sweet grass on the swell, And the south winds and west know it well: 'Tis the home of my heart.
There's a cottage o'ershadowed by leaves Growing fairer than art, Where under the low sloping eaves No false hand the swallow bereaves: 'Tis the home of my heart.
And there as you gaze down the lea, Where the trees stand apart, Over grassland and woodland may be You will catch the faint gleam of the sea From the home of my heart.
And there in the rapturous spring, When the morning rays dart O'er the plain, and the morning birds sing, You may see the most beautiful thing In the home of my heart;
For there at the casement above, Where the rosebushes part, Will blush the fair face of my love: Ah, yes! it is this that will prove 'Tis the home of my heart.
Sir Robert Peel, shortly before his death, said that what he had seen and heard in public life had left upon his mind a prevailing impression of gloom and grief. What impressed the mind of the English statesman so painfully in reference to his own country must be felt correspondingly by Americans who contemplate the South; for its present condition awakens the anxious solicitude of every thoughtful patriot. A brief mention of some of the evils that afflict her may help toward the ascertainment and application of adequate remedies. Let it be premised that this discussion proceeds in no degree from disloyalty to the Government, nor from unwillingness to accept the legitimate consequences of the war.
Betwixt the North and the South there lingers much estrangement. One serious cause of irritation at the South, which seems irremediable, is the distrust with which those who sustained the Confederate States are regarded by a large number of Northern people. Our motives are habitually misrepresented, our purposes misunderstood, our actions perverted, our character maligned. On our conduct have been placed constructions which seem to spring from direst hate or malice. By representative men Southern States are spoken of as outside the Union; and "a solid South" has been the party appeal most efficacious for arousing sectional and vindictive passion. Every Southern citizen who followed his convictions, and affiliated with the 1,640,000 Democrats of the North, is suspected of disloyalty or treason. No protestations of men or parties, no avowals of governors or legislatures, are accepted as sincere unless accompanied by a support of the Republican party. Party platforms, the support of an Abolitionist like Mr. Greeley, organic laws, are regarded as deceptive because the shibboleth of disloyalty and patriotism is "Republicanism." These persistent efforts to brand us as inferiors, to make us unequals as citizens, to coerce the support of an administration and a party, are based upon our unfitness, morally or intellectually, to decide for ourselves what is best for the country's welfare and perpetuity. We are loyal, and patriotic, and honest only when we sing pæans to the Administration and its favorites. Practically the war has been prolonged, and this policy of disunion alienates, embitters, and prohibits the growth of fraternal sentiments. To prevent a complete and durable reconciliation seems the settled policy of a large party. This proscription and ostracism have helped to create a hopelessness as to the future. A nightmare paralyzes our energies.