faithless husband, to fight the battles of their country, however much
they were needed for this. Even in the most despotic period of European
history the only son of a widow was exempt from conscription. Then to
lose them both in a single day! Mrs. Lowell became the saint of Quincy
Street, and none were so hardened or self-absorbed as not to do her
reverence.

But now the terrible past was eclipsed by the joy and pride of victory.
The great heroic struggle was over; young men could look forward to the
practice of peaceable professions, and old men had no longer to think of
the exhausting drain upon their resources. Fond mothers could now count
upon the survival of their sons, and young wives no longer feared to
become widows in a night. Everywhere there was joy and exhilaration. To
many it was the happiest day they had ever known.

President Hill was seen holding a long and earnest conversation with
Agassiz on the path towards his house. The professors threw aside their
contemplated work. Every man went to drink a glass of wine with his best
friend, and to discuss the fortunes of the republic. The ball-players set
off for the Delta, where Memorial Hall now stands, to organize a full
match game; the billiard experts started a tournament on Mr. Lyon's new
tables; and the rowing men set off for a three-hours' pull down Boston
harbor. Others collected in groups and discussed the future of their
country with the natural precocity of youthful minds. "Here," said a
Boston cousin of the two young Lowells, to a pink-faced, sandy-haired
ball-player, "you are opposed to capital punishment; do you think Jeff.
Davis ought to be hung?" "Just at present," replied the latter, "I am
more in favor of suspending Jeff. Davis than of suspending the law,"--an
opinion that was greeted with laughter and applause. The general
sentiment of the crowd was in favor of permitting General Lee to retire