sneer so bitterly at the conduct of our Government but a year ago would do well to study closely the history of their own country in 1588, in which they will find much matter calculated to lessen their conceit, and to teach them charity.  The Lincoln Government of the United States had been in existence but little more than thirty days when it found itself involved in war with the Rebels; the Elizabethan Government had been in existence for thirty years when the Armada came to the shores of England, to the astonishment and dismay of those “barons bold and statesmen old in bearded majesty” whom we have been content to regard as the bravest and the wisest men that have lived since David and Solomon.  Elizabeth, who had a beard that vied with Burleigh’s,—­the evidence of her virgin innocence,—­felt every hair of her head curling from terror when she learned how she had been “done” by Philip’s lieutenant; and old Burleigh must have thought that his mistress was in the condition of Jockey of Norfolk’s master at Bosworth,—­“bought and sold.”  Fortunately for both old women, and for us all, the summer gales of 1588 were adverse to the Spaniards, and protected Old England.  We know not whence the wind cometh nor whither it goeth, but we know that its blows have often been given with effect on human affairs; and it never blew with more usefulness, since the time when it used up the ships of Xerxes, than when it sent the ships of Philip to join “the treasures that old Ocean hoards.”  Had England then been conquered by Spain, though but temporarily, Protestant England would have ceased to exist, and the current of history would have been as emphatically changed as was the current of the Euphrates under the labors of the soldiers of Cyrus.  We should have had no Shakspeare, or a very different Shakspeare from the one that we have; and the Elizabethan age would have presented to after centuries an appearance altogether unlike that which now so impressively strikes the mind.  As that was the time out of which all that is great and good in England and America has proceeded, in letters and in arms, in religion and in politics, we can easily understand how vast must have been the change, had not the winds of the North been so unpropitious to the purposes of the King of the South.

The English are very proud of the victories of Crecy and Agincourt, as well they may be; for, though gained in the course of as unjust and unprovoked and cruel wars as ever were waged even by Englishmen, they are as splendid specimens of slaughter-work as can be found in the history of “the Devil’s code of honor.”  But they owe them both to the weather, which favored their ancestors, and was as unfavorable to the ancestors of the French.  At Crecy the Italian cross-bow men in the French army not only came into the field worn down by a long march on a hot day in August, but immediately after their arrival they were exposed to a terrible thunder-storm, in which the rain fell in absolute torrents, wetting