Bereaved homes.
--Since the commencement of this unhallowed war, the death angel has gathered many a gem from the mother's casket, and from his dusky wings as he hovered over the camp of the brave, the fatal poison has fallen on many a son of hope, about whose person the tendrils of paternal affection had fondly entwined. Yet, when the hour of weeping grief has passed, and the wounded spirit is able to lisp, ‘"he died in his country's cause,"’ what a hale of glory bursts over the tomb! Bereaved homes? Nay, say not so. They are blessed and honored altars, about which the tender affections of a nation shall gather, and from which the incense of a people's gratitude shall arise forever and forever.
