are darkened, and our church bells are silenced, lest the lights of the one, and the music of the other, should betray our presence to that agent of the devil, the Zeppelin, which is riding above the clouds three miles up in the sky. Behind the dark blinds of our houses our young children may be playing, but their young mothers are watching them with quivering hearts, in fear of the black fate that may fall on them at any time. Our churches are, perhaps, full at the midnight services, but chiefly with women; and while the organ is played and the anthem sung they are trying, too often in vain, to pierce the veil which interposes between them and the divine wisdom, to bow before the Unknown Will, to believe that everything is for the best, to feel that God's ways are sure; or perhaps, under the recent shock of heart-shaking news, to persuade themselves (ah, how hard it is, how infinitely pitiful!) that great as was the glory they had pictured for the future lives of their brilliant boys, death on the battlefield
