people or not courageous. In passing, however, let us mention
that, to our view, this was not an unsuccessful Insurrection;
that as Insurrections go, we have not heard lately of any that
succeeded so well.

A million of hungry operative men, as Blusterowski says, rose
all up, came all out into the streets, and--stood there. What
other could they do? Their wrongs and griefs were bitter,
insupportable, their rage against the same was just: but who are
they that cause these wrongs, who that will honestly make effort
to redress them? Our enemies are we know not who or what; our
friends are we know not where! How shall we attack any one,
shoot or be shot by any one? O, if the accursed invisible
Nightmare, that is crushing out the life of us and ours, would
take a shape; approach us like the Hyrcanian tiger, the Behemoth
of Chaos, the Archfiend himself; in any shape that we could see,
and fasten on!--A man can have himself shot with cheerfulness;
but it needs first that he see clearly for what. Shew him the
divine face of justice, then the diabolic monster which is
eclipsing that: he will fly at the throat of such monster, never
so monstrous, and need no bidding to do it. Woolwich grapeshot
will sweep clear all streets, blast into invisibility so many
thousand men: but if your Woolwich grapeshot be but eclipsing
Divine justice, and the God's-radiance itself gleam recognisable
athwart such grapeshot,--then, yes then is the time come for
fighting and attacking. All artillery-parks have become weak,
and are about to dissipate: in the God's-thunder, their poor
thunder slackens, ceases; finding that it is, in all senses of
the term, a _brute_ one!--