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Show H 1 WAR'S CRUELTIES. Ml (By Charles Sumner.) B;j I need not dwell now on the waate B;.; I md cruelty of war. These stare us H; r.-lldly in the face like lurid meteor V?r ' lights as we travel the page of hls- B t, tory. We see the desolation and death Bl i that pursue its demoniac footsteps. Wo look upon sacked towns, upon ravaged territories, upon violated homeB, we behold all the sweet charities char-ities of life changed to wormwood and gall Our soul la penetrated by the sharp moan of mothers, sisters and daughters of fathers, brothers and eons who, In bitterness of their bereavement, be-reavement, refuse to be comforted. Our eyes rest Jtt last upon one of these fair fields, where Nature, in her abun-i abun-i dance, spreads her cloth of gold, spa-l spa-l clous and apt for the entertainment of mighty multitudes or, perhaps, from the curious subtlety of its position, po-sition, like the carpet in the Arabian tale, seeming to contract so as to bo covered by a few only, or to dilate eo as to receive an Innumerable hosL Here, under a bright sim, such as shono at Austerlitz or Buena Vista-amldst Vista-amldst the peaceful harmonies of Natureon Na-tureon the Sabbath of Peace we behold bands of brothers, children of common Father, heirs to a common happiness, struggling togother in the deadly fight, with the madness of fallen spirits, seeking with murderous weapons the lives of brothers who ha'e novcr Injured them or their kindred. kin-dred. The havoc rages. The ground Is Soaked with their commingling blood- Tlie air is rent with their commipgling cries. Florse and rider are stretched together on the earth More revolting than the mangled victims, vic-tims, than the gashed limbs, are the lawless pa8siona which eweep. tempest-like, through the fiendish tumult. |