Another glorious Fourth has come and gone; and while it is not our purpose to deliver ourselves of a post-Fourth of July oration, we feel called upon, after much sober second-thought and deliberation, to make a few ex post facto remarks which seem to us to be "appropriate to the occasion."
We firmly believe in the proper observance of the natal day of our great and glorious Republic. We heartily endorse every proper means of its observance. We deeply applaud every patriotic utterance of every patriotic son of our country—native or adopted—whenever and wherever delivered. We have no objection to Fourth of July celebrations and picnics. We do not wish to assume the role of a grumbler or pessimist. We desire rather to be fairly optimistic, and we are endeavoring to cultivate the prime virtue of patience; but, humanly speaking, there is a limit to due's sense of patriotism; there are boundary lines to ones optimism; there are outer-edges to one's patience even in its relation to love of country; and we hereby frankly admit that as to certain phases of patriotism expressed on and about Independence Day, our shallow reservoir of patience is well-nigh exhausted; the springs of our further quiescent endurance are nearly run dry.
We are led to thus ruminate by those patriotic ebullitions which yearly present themselves in the form of explosives —fire-crackers, Roman candles, torpedoes, imitation cannons, guns, pistols, and all their Satan-devised concomitants.
