REJOICING IN THE DECLINE OF THE REBELLION.

We celebrate to-night two victories,—each a heavy blow, under which the Rebellion reels and staggers to its final fall. [Cheers.] Admiral Farragut, by a naval expedition incomparable in the hardihood and skill with which it was planned and executed, has occupied all the approaches of Mobile, so that this important port is now, thank God, hermetically sealed against those English supplies which from the beginning have been the source of encouragement and strength to the Rebellion. [Applause.] General Sherman, on his part, by a marvellous succession of battles and of marches, overcoming obstacles interposed by Nature and a stubborn foe, has shown triumphantly that our army can march and then fight, march and then fight again, and conquer [applause, and “Good!”], while by the capture of Atlanta he has shattered the very key-stone of the Rebel arch. [Renewed applause.] These, fellow-citizens, are the victories we commemorate.

This is a season of joy, not that fellow-citizens in arms against us have been overcome, not that blood is flowing, not that fields and villages and towns are smoking, but that our country is redeemed from peril, and the public enemy is beaten down under our feet. [Long continued applause.] Such is the occasion of rejoicing to-night. Hearts overflow, eyes glisten, the voice cries out with gladness, the heart echoes to the booming cannon, and victory thrills us all with its bewitching, triumphant music. This, Sir, is the time to rejoice: for there is a time to lament, and there is a time also to enjoy; and this is a time for joy. “Blow, bugles, blow! set all your wild notes flying!”

Unhappy those who cannot unite in our joy! Unhappy those who, as they listen to the triumphant salvos, to the swelling music, and to these exultant voices here to-night, cannot echo them back with gladness in their hearts! Unhappy all such, who call themselves by the American name! And why can they not rejoice? Alas! it is because their sympathies are with the enemy, or because they place party above country, even to the extent of seeing that country cut in twain [A voice, “Shame!”], like the false mother who appeared for judgment before Solomon. The wise monarch clearly perceived that a woman ready to see her child divided in two was a false mother: so may we all clearly perceive that people ready to see their country divided in two are false citizens. The judgment of Solomon stands good to this hour, against all showing such perfidious insensibility.

Fellow-citizens, these Northern renegades (I like to call things by their proper names, and I thank my honored friend who preceded me for his exposition, telling how near they come to being traitors)—these Northern renegades are nothing else than unarmed guerrilla bands of Jefferson Davis, marauding here at the North. [Loud cheers.] They cry out, “Peace!”—but, fellow-citizens, are we not all for peace? Sir, are you not for peace? Are not all the honored gentlemen by whom I am surrounded for peace? Peace is the sentiment, the longing, the passion of my life. Not Falkland in the bloody days of the English civil war cried, “Peace! Peace!” more fervently than I do now. For me the day begins, continues, and ends with this aspiration; but it is precisely because I am thus determined for peace, because peace is with me such a be-all and end-all, that I now insist, at all hazards, that this Rebellion shall be overthrown and trampled out at once and utterly, so that it shall never again break forth in blood. [Loud cheers.] In the name of peace, and for the sake of good-will among men, do I now insist that this Rebellion shall be so completely blasted as to leave behind no root or remnant which may become the germ of future war.

Fellow-citizens, let me be frank, for such is my habit, here, or wherever else I have the honor to speak. In vain do you expect to destroy the Rebellion, unless you destroy Slavery [applause]; for Slavery, be assured, is but another name for the Rebellion. The two are synonyms; they are convertible terms. The Rebellion is but Slavery in arms, whether on land or on sea; on foot, on horseback, or afloat, it is ever belligerent Slavery, warring to establish a wicked empire. If you are against one, you must be against the other. If you are ready to strike Rebellion, you must be ready to strike Slavery. If you are ready to strike Slavery, you must be ready to strike Rebellion. The President was clearly right, when, in a recent letter, he declared that he should accept no terms of peace which did not begin with the abandonment of Slavery. [“Good!” and cheers.] The Union cannot live with Slavery. Nothing can be clearer. If Slavery dies, the Union lives; if Slavery lives, the Union dies. God save the Union!

And now, fellow-citizens, it only remains that you should comprehend the grandeur of the cause and of your position. Consider well the Thermopylæ pass in which you stand battling for Liberty,—not only here at home, but everywhere throughout the globe; and forget not, that, if you take care of Liberty, the Union will take care of itself,—or, better still, know, that, if you save Liberty, you save everything. [Loud cheers.]

REPUBLICAN PARTY AND DEMOCRATIC PARTY.

And here let me remark, that, in taking a place at the head of our ticket,[368] the distinguished gentleman to whom I have referred renders a patriotic service, and sets an example to all Bell-Everett men, who do not prefer to follow Bell rather than Everett. If any belonging to that extinct combination vote against Edward Everett, it will be only to find themselves in the company of the traitor, John Bell. If you choose to give them a designation, let it be simply “Bell men.” It remains to be seen how many, at this crisis, prefer the traitor to the patriot. These two names, once in conjunction, now represent the two hostile ideas of Rebellion and Patriotism.

Even if the election be certain, our duty is none the less imperative. It is certain, because every good citizen will do his duty, and will see that his neighbor does it, too. It is certain, because, thank God, Patriotism at the North is stronger than Rebellion. [Cheers.] But we must all unite to make it gloriously certain.

I have often, on former occasions, when addressing my fellow-citizens, put the question, “Are you for Freedom, or are you for Slavery?”—and I put this question now; for it is the question which necessarily enters into the coming election. On the answer hinges absolutely the peace of our country and the perpetuity of our institutions. Therefore I put the question in another form: “Are you for your country, or are you for the Rebellion?” That is the question to decide by your votes. It is vain to evade this question, vain to wink it out of sight. It will come to every man as he puts in his vote, and he should decide it sincerely, patriotically, religiously.

And now, that I may bring this responsibility home to mind and conscience, I have no hesitation in saying, that, in voting against Abraham Lincoln, you will not only vote against Freedom and for Slavery, but you will vote against your country and for the Rebellion,—in short, you will give the very vote which Jefferson Davis would give, were he allowed to vote in Massachusetts. No matter under what excuse this may be done, no matter by what argument you may deceive yourselves, no matter what apology you may construct, founded, perhaps, on personal objections or personal partialities,—it will be all the same. Your vote will be a vote against Freedom,—ay, Sir, a vote against your country. Just to the extent of its influence, you will give aid and comfort to the Rebel enemy, and will prevent the restoration of Union and Peace.

There can be no third party now, whether in the name of moderation or in the name of progress,—as there can be no third party between right and wrong, between good and evil, between the Almighty Throne and Satan. There can be but two parties here. Choose ye between them. One is the party of the country, with Abraham Lincoln as its chief, and with Freedom as its glorious watchword; and the other is the party of the Rebellion, with Jefferson Davis as its chief, and with no other watchword than Slavery. As in the choice of Hercules, there are here before you two roads,—one leading to virtue and renown, the other leading to crime and shame. Choose ye between them. Vote against Abraham Lincoln, if you can, or stay at home and sulk, if you will; you have only, as a next step, to go over to the enemy.

There is now no question of candidates; there is no question of men. Candidates and men, no matter who, are all insignificant by the side of the cause. It is the cause we sustain and would bear, as the ark of the covenant, on our shoulders. Therefore I put aside all that is said of the two candidates. It would be useless to attempt comparison between them, although it might appear, that, in those matters where one has been most criticized, the other is in the same predicament,—that, if Lincoln is slow, McClellan is slower,—that, if Lincoln has employed the military arm in the arrest of individuals, McClellan has employed it in the arrest of a whole Legislature,—and that, if Lincoln drove Vallandigham out of the Union lines as a penalty for sedition, McClellan drove the Hutchinsons out of the Union lines as a penalty for singing songs of Freedom. But why consider these petty personalities? They divert attention from the single question, “Are you for your country, or are you for the Rebellion?” [Applause.]

I have said that there are but two parties. If you would understand their respective characters and their claims to support, glance, first, at their history, and then at the principles they have recently declared.

On one side is the Republican party, originally formed to check the encroachments of Slavery, and especially to save the vast territories of the Republic, preserving them forever sacred to Freedom. Such a party, originally formed with such an object and inspired by Freedom, was the natural defender of the Republic, when Slavery took up arms against it. To this end it has labored, and to this end it will continue to labor, until, by the blessing of God, the Union is once again restored. I call it the Republican party, because that was its early name; but, for myself, I am indifferent to the name by which you call me. Let it be Republican, Unionist, or Abolitionist, what you will, I am with those patriots who stand by their country, seeking its safety and renown. [Great applause.]

It is sometimes asked, What has the Republican party done? Look around, and you will see everywhere what it has done. Its acts are historic. Slavery and the Black Laws all abolished in the national capital; Slavery interdicted in all the national territories; Hayti and Liberia recognized as independent republics in the family of nations; the foreign slave-trade placed under the ban of a new treaty with Great Britain; the coastwise slave-trade prohibited forever; all persons in the military or naval service prohibited from returning slaves; all Fugitive Slave Acts repealed; the rule excluding colored testimony in the national courts abolished; and slaves set free in the Rebel States by Presidential proclamation: such are some of the triumphs of Freedom, under the auspices of the Republican party. [Cheers.] But this is not all. The Pacific Railroad is at last authorized; agricultural colleges are provided for; homesteads on the public lands are offered to all actual settlers; while, by special legislation, emigration is encouraged and organized. But beyond all these measures, any one of which in other days would have illumined a whole administration, the National Government, acting in self-defence, with Abraham Lincoln as its head, has set on foot one of the largest armies of which there is any authentic record,—has equipped a navy which, in the variety and completeness of its power, with all modern improvements, may vie with any in the world,—while, by a most successful financial system, including banks and credit, it has obtained the unprecedented sums required for all this enormous preparation.

All this is the work of the Republican party in less than a single Presidential term. [Prolonged applause.] It remains for this party to crown its transcendent labors by completing the triumph of the Union, and by establishing peace on the indestructible foundation of human rights. I regard it as an honor to belong to this party, so great in what it has already accomplished, and greater still in what it proposes. Other parties have performed their work and perished. The Republican party will live forever in the gratitude of all who love Liberty and rejoice in the triumphs of Civilization. Foreign countries will take up the strain, while the down-trodden and the oppressed everywhere confess that their burdens have been lifted by an irresistible influence which we are assembled to advance. [Applause.]

Against the Republican party, thus patriotic, and already illustrious by achievements, is arrayed the old Democratic party, galvanized into new life, and reinforced by members of the old Bell-Everett party who prefer Bell to Everett. In this strange combination, where Herod and Pilate are made friends to destroy human freedom, there seems but one single element of cohesive attraction, and that is Slavery; and these men all call themselves Democrats.

Pardon the frankness with which I speak: it is needful in order to disclose the actual character of the Opposition. For a true Democracy, founded on the rights of man, I have an unfeigned respect; but for a pretended Democracy, founded on human slavery, and existing only for this enormous crime, I have no respect. It is an inconsistency in terms. It is a flat contradiction. It is a cheat and a sham. And such is the Democracy which here in Massachusetts, headed by Robert C. Winthrop, now arrays itself against the party of Union, headed by Edward Everett. But it is plain, that, in pursuing this course, it follows naturally and simply the traditions of the party.

I have exhibited something of the good accomplished by the Republican party. See now what has been done by the Democratic party, and then say what evil may not be expected from it.

For years the Democratic party has been the supporter of Slavery, prompt in yielding to its insatiate demands.

Look at the Rebellion from beginning to end, and you will find it has been engineered by Democrats.

You cannot forget that James Buchanan, a Democrat, was President, surrounded by a Democratic Cabinet, while the Rebellion was allowed to organize and gather strength without interruption.

Wherever you look in the Rebellion, there you find the old Democracy, into which is absorbed John Bell and his followers, arrayed against their country.

Look at individuals; you find that the larger half, constituting the controlling power of the old Democratic party, are now in arms against their country.

Look at States; you find that all in rebellion were at its outbreak Democratic States.

Look at the present upholders of the Rebellion, and you find that all, without exception, most active, were Democrats,—that Jefferson Davis, the President, so tenacious and uncompromising, was a Democrat,—that Stephens, the audacious Vice-President, who announced that the new Government was founded on Slavery as its corner-stone, was an old Whig turned into a Democrat,—that all the Rebel Cabinet were Democrats,—that the President of the Rebel Senate and the Speaker of the Rebel House were Democrats,—that James M. Mason and John Slidell, the Rebel emissaries in Europe, were Democrats,—that the officers, who, after obtaining their education at West Point at the public expense, threw up their commissions and lifted parricidal hands against their country, Hood, Beauregard, Johnston, Lee, were all Democrats.

Naturally, the Northern associates and allies of these Rebels are engaged in devising apologies for Rebellion. Naturally, they are against all energetic measures for its suppression; they call for a “cessation of hostilities,” and seek to throw over their companions of other days every possible protection, especially seeking by all means to save their darling Slavery. But they ought not to find sympathy with patriot citizens,—especially against the Republican party, which, in its open and unconditional patriotism, and in all its manifold works, is in marked contrast with the Democracy.

Fellow-citizens, in all this vast Union, whether as it was or as it is, there is not a single Republican in arms against the Government, or sympathizing with those who are. There is not a traitor among them. Here is a distinction between the two parties broad as the space between earth and heaven. [Great applause.]

I would not confound the innocent with the guilty. I know full well that among the honest masses there are many, once Democrats, who have given their lives to their country, and there are some of the old leaders at the North who have spurned all the traditions of the party. All honor and gratitude to them! There, also, are our generals,—Grant, Sherman, Hooker, Butler,—a goodly cluster,—once Democrats, but now forgetting party and dedicating themselves completely to their country. But the patriotism of Democrats like these is not an apology for the Democrat Jefferson Davis, or for his Democratic sympathizers among us, seeking to arrest the strong blows under which Rebellion reels. I do not forget, also, that there are good men, who, under misapprehension of some kind, and without seeing all the bearings of their conduct, have allowed themselves to be swept into the Democratic ranks. But such as these can be no cloak to that Democratic party which at Chicago openly struck hands with Jefferson Davis, and undertook to do for him what he cannot do for himself.

It is because the Democratic party is at this moment so utterly mischievous and disloyal, so really dangerous to our country, and so bitterly hostile to Liberty, that I speak thus plainly. Soft words will not do in exposing that combination at Chicago, where the two factions commingled into one. Call them, if you please, Pharisees and Sadducees. [Laughter.] They are something more, and something worse, if possible. They are the unarmed guerrilla bands of Jefferson Davis, who have stolen into the Free States. I have used this language before. If I repeat it now, it is because I wish to put you on your guard against criminal marauders, who, at this moment of peril, are ready to prey upon their country.

If you would see the difference between the two parties, read the speeches and resolutions at Baltimore, and then the speeches and resolutions at Chicago. I have no time for details, even if the transactions at these two Conventions were not still fresh in the memory. Suffice it to say that the Convention at Baltimore openly and frankly pledged all its energies to the suppression of the Rebellion, and to the utter and complete extirpation of Slavery from the soil of the Republic, without compromise or hesitation of any kind. This was noble and patriotic. But nothing of this kind was done at Chicago.

The Chicago platform may be seen in two aspects,—first, in what it does say, and, secondly, in what it does not say. There are two things it does say: first, that the war for the suppression of the Rebellion is a failure; and, secondly, that there should be a cessation of hostilities. There are two things it does not say: first, it does not say anything against the Rebellion; and, secondly, it does not say anything against Slavery. And candidates are nominated on this platform. In voting for them, you affirm that the war has failed and that it ought to be stopped, while you decline to say anything against the Rebellion or against Slavery. You declare that our recent triumphs were all failures, that Grant failed at Vicksburg, that Sherman failed at Atlanta, that Farragut failed at New Orleans and Mobile, that Winslow failed against the Alabama, and that Sheridan failed in the Valley of the Shenandoah; and you further declare that all these heroes should be arrested in mid-career, while Democratic agencies take their place, and rose-water is substituted for cannon-balls. And you declare, also, that the Rebellion shall prevail, and that Slavery shall continue to degrade our country and be the seed of interminable war. All this you affirm and declare by your votes.

If anything were needed to illustrate the offensive character of this platform, it would be found in the efforts made to get away from it,—at least in this latitude. Nobody here is willing to trust it. The cry of the railroad conductor is transferred to politics,—“It is dangerous to stand on the platform.” [Laughter.] Nobody has made greater efforts to get away from it than the Presidential candidate of the Democracy, who forgets, that, as a candidate, he is born with the platform, and united to it, as the Siamese twins are united together, so that the two cannot be separated. As well cut apart Chang and Eng as cut apart McClellan and Chicago. [Laughter.] The two must go together.

The letter of McClellan is a specimen of “how not to do it.” This is the prevailing idea,—how not to stand on the platform, how not to offend the Rebels, and how not to touch Slavery. It is an ingenious wriggle and twist; but so far as the writer succeeds in getting off the platform, it is only to run upon other difficulties,—as from Scylla to Charybdis. The platform surrenders to the Rebellion; the letter surrenders to Slavery. But the Rebellion is nothing but belligerent Slavery; so that surrender to Slavery is surrender to the Rebellion. The platform discards the Union; but the letter, while professing a desire for union, discards Emancipation, without which union is impossible; and while professing a desire for peace, it discards Liberty, through which alone peace can be secured. The letter says: “The Union is the one condition of peace: we ask no more.” The Democratic candidate may ask no more; but others do. I ask more, because without more the Union is but a name. I ask more for the sake of justice and humanity, and that this terrible war may be vindicated in history. The Baltimore Convention, in its resolutions, asks more. Abraham Lincoln asks more. The country takes up the demand of the Baltimore Convention and of Abraham Lincoln, and asks more. [Applause.]

I have said that Abraham Lincoln asks more. He has asked it again and again. He asked it in his Proclamation of the 1st January, 1863, when, as commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, he ordered and declared that the slaves in the Rebel States “are and henceforward shall be free, and that the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.” And he asked it again, when, in his notice “To whom it may concern,” he announced that all terms of peace must begin with “the abandonment of Slavery.”[369] But, in face of these declarations, the candidate of the Democrats mumbles forth, “The Union is the one condition of peace: we ask no more.”

It is a strange infatuation which imagines that the Rebellion can be closed without the entire abolition of Slavery. The Rebellion began with Slavery, and it will end with Slavery. As it began in no other way, so it can end in no other way. Born from Slavery, it must die with Slavery. Therefore do I insist that Slavery shall not be spared; for, in sparing Slavery, you spare the Rebellion itself. [Applause.]

But even if reason and the necessity of the case did not require the sacrifice, it is now too late, thank God! By the Proclamation of the President the freedom of all slaves in the Rebel region is secured beyond recall. That gift cannot be taken back. It was a saying of Antiquity, repeated by an exquisite poet of our own day, that “the gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.” But even if other gifts may be recalled, the gift of Freedom cannot; for its recall would be the sacrifice of human rights. Every slave declared free by that Proclamation is entitled to his freedom as much as you and I. The President himself, empowered to confer freedom, is impotent to make a slave. Look at the question as you will, in the light of morals or of jurisprudence, and the answer is the same. There is the promise of the Proclamation, by which the public faith of the country is irrevocably pledged that certain slaves “shall be henceforward free,” and their freedom shall be “recognized and maintained”; and this promise, according to morals, cannot be taken back. Still more, according to jurisprudence, it cannot be taken back; for “Once free, always free” is a prevailing maxim, and no court, sitting under the Constitution, and inspired by the Declaration of Independence, can venture to limit or restrain a proclamation of freedom, made in the exercise of war powers for the suppression of rebellion. It is vain to say that the slaves are not now in our power. This is a proper argument for the enemy, but not for any court of the United States. Every such court refusing to recognize the act of the President will stultify itself and shock the judicial conscience of mankind. It is enough that the Proclamation has declared the slaves free. There is not a slave in the Rebel region who may not look to it for protection, while it overarches all like a firmament, which human effort will strive in vain to drag down. [Applause.]

Do you need authority for this principle? Let me read you the emphatic and well-considered words of Postmaster-General Blair:—

This is noble doctrine; and it is none the less noble because from a member of the Cabinet sometimes supposed to hesitate where Freedom is in question.

See, then, into what denial of just principles, as well as inconsistencies, you are led, when you follow the Democratic candidate in rejecting Freedom as the corner-stone of Union.

But I have said enough. The case is too plain for argument. Let me give it to you in a nutshell.

A vote for McClellan will be, first and foremost, a vote for Slavery, at a time when this crime has plunged the country into the sorrow and waste of war.

It will be, also, a vote for the Rebellion, at a moment when the Rebellion is nigh to fall.

Also, a vote for Disunion, at a moment when the Union is about to be made inseparable.

But disunion, when once started, cannot be stopped; so that a vote for McClellan will be a vote to break this Union in pieces, and to set each State spinning in space.

It will be a vote for chronic war among fellow-citizens, ever beginning and never ending, until the fate of Mexico will be ours.

Also, a vote for the repudiation of the national debt, involving the destruction of property and the overthrow of business.

Also, a vote for anarchy and chaos at home.

Also, a vote for national degradation abroad.

Also, a vote against the civilization of the age.

Also, a vote for the kingdom of Satan on earth.

On the other hand, a vote for Abraham Lincoln will be, first and foremost, a vote for Freedom, Union, and Peace, that political trinity under whose guardianship we place the Republic. It will be a vote, also, to fix the influence and good name of our country, so that it shall become the pride of history. It will be a vote, also, for civilization itself. At home it will secure tranquillity throughout the land, with freedom of travel and of speech, so that the eloquence of Wendell Phillips may be enjoyed at Richmond and Charleston as at New York and Boston, and the designation of “Border States,” now exclusively applicable to interior States, will be removed, so that our only “Border States” will be on Canada at the North and Mexico at the South. Doing all this at home, it will do more abroad; for it will secure the triumph of American institutions everywhere. [Great applause.]

Surely all this is something to vote for. And you will not hesitate. Forward, then,—in the name of Freedom, Union, and Peace! Crush the enemy everywhere. Crush him on the field of battle. Crush him at the ballot-box. And may the November election be the final peal of thunder which shall clear the sky and fill the heavens with glory! [Prolonged cheers.]

SLAVERY AND THE REBELLION ONE AND INSEPARABLE: ISSUES OF THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.

SPEECH.

FELLOW-CITIZENS,—In all the concerns of life, the first necessity is to see and comprehend the circumstances about us. Without this knowledge human conduct must fail. Without this knowledge the machine cannot be worked, the ground cannot be tilled, the ship cannot be navigated, war cannot be waged, government cannot be conducted. The old Greek, suddenly enveloped in a cloud while battling with his enemies, exclaimed, “Give me to see!”—and this exclamation of the warrior is the exclamation, also, of every person in practical life, whether striving for country or only for himself. “Give me to see,” that I may comprehend my duty. “Give me to see,” that I may recognize my enemy. “Give me to see,” that I may know where to strike.

The wise physician, before any prescription for his patient, endeavors, by careful diagnosis, to ascertain the nature of the disease or injury, and when this is done, he proceeds with confidence. Without such knowledge all medical skill must fail. You do not forget how it failed in the recent case of the Italian patriot, Garibaldi, suffering cruelly from a wound in the foot, received at the unfortunate battle of Aspromonte, which for a long time nobody seemed to understand. Eminent surgeons of different countries were at fault. At last Nélaton, the liberal professor of the Medical School at Paris, leaving pupils and patients, journeyed into Italy to visit the illustrious sufferer. Other surgeons said that there was no ball lodged in the foot; the French surgeon, after careful diagnosis, declared that there was, and at once extracted it. From that time Garibaldi gained in health and strength, thanks to his scientific visitor, who was enabled to understand his case.

Nowhere is diagnosis more important than in national affairs. Men are naturally patriotic. They love their country with instinctive love, quickened at the mother’s knee, and nursed in the earliest teachings of the school. For country they offer fortune and life. But while thus devoted, they do not always clearly see the line of duty. Local prejudice, personal antipathy, and selfish interest obscure the vision. And far beyond all these is the disturbing influence of “party,” with all the power of discipline and organization added to numbers. Men attach themselves to a political party as to a religion, and yield blindly to its behests. By error of judgment, rather than of heart, they give up to party what was meant for country or mankind. I do not condemn political parties, but warn against their tyranny. A patriotic Opposition, watchful of the public service, is hardly less important than a patriotic Administration. They are the complements of each other, and, even while in open conflict, unite in duty to country. But a political party which ceases to be patriotic, which openly takes sides with Rebellion, which sends up “blue lights” as a signal to an armed foe, or which subtly undermines those popular energies now needed for the national defence, that the Republic may live,—such a party is an engine of frightful evil, to be abhorred as “the gates of hell.” It is, unhappily, an evil of party always, even in its best estate, that it tends to dominate over its members, so as to create an oligarchical power, a sort of imperium in imperio, which may overshadow the Government itself. This influence becomes disastrous beyond measure, when bad men obtain control or bad ideas prevail. Then must all who are not ready to forget their country consider carefully the consequences of their conduct. Adherence to party may leave but one step to treason.

Fellow-citizens, I address you as patriots who love their country and would not willingly see it suffer, who rejoice in its triumphs and long to behold its flag furled in peace. But it is the nature of true patriotism to love country most when it is most in peril. As dangers thicken and skies darken, the patriot soul is roused by internal fire so that no sacrifice seems too great. And now, when the national life is assailed by traitors at home, while foreign powers look on with wicked sympathy, I begin by asking that you should forget “party” and all its watchwords. Think only of country.

There is much misconception, even among well-meaning persons, with regard to the object of the war, while partisans do not tire of misrepresenting it. A plain statement will show the truth as it is.

It is often said that the object of the war on our part is simply to restore the Constitution, and much mystification is employed with regard to the essential limits of such a contest. Mr. Crittenden’s resolution, adopted by both Houses of Congress, declared that the war was “not waged on our part in any spirit of oppression, or for any purpose of conquest or subjugation, or purpose of overthrowing or interfering with the rights or established institutions of the Southern States,—but to defend and maintain the supremacy of the Constitution, and to preserve the Union, with all the dignity, equality, and rights of the several States unimpaired.”[372] I rejoice to remember that I did not vote for this resolution. It was unsatisfactory to me at the time, and is more unsatisfactory now. While plausible in form, it was in the nature of a snare.

Again, it is said that the object of the war is to abolish Slavery. This, also, is a mistake, although it is generally urged by those who seek occasion to criticize the war, and therefore it is in the nature of misrepresentation. At the beginning of the war, and during its early stages, Slavery was left untouched, in the enjoyment of peculiar immunity, such as was accorded to no other Rebel interest. If this peculiar immunity has been discontinued, it is only because Slavery is at last seen in its true character, and because its absolute identity with the Rebellion has come to be recognized.

Not, then, to restore the Constitution, not to abolish Slavery, do we go forth to battle,—for neither of these,—but simply to put down the Rebellion. It is this, and nothing more. Never in history was there a war with an object so manifest. If, in the process of putting down the Rebellion, the Constitution shall be completely restored or Slavery shall be completely abolished, the war will still be the same in essential object.

From its origin you will see its true character beyond question. Certain slave-masters, after long years of conspiracy, rose against the Republic and struck at its life. The reason assigned for this parricide was strange as the deed. It was simply because the people of the United States, by constitutional majority, according to prescribed forms of law, had elected Abraham Lincoln as President. On this alleged reason, and to defeat his administration, Rebellion was organized. You are familiar with the succession of parricidal blows that ensued. State after State, beginning with South Carolina, always traitorous, undertook to withdraw from the Union. Their Senators and Representatives in Congress actually withdrew from the National Capitol, leaving behind menaces of war. Custom-houses, post-offices, mints, arsenals, forts, all possessions of the National Government, one after another, were seized by the Rebel slave-masters. As early as the 1st of January, 1861, while James Buchanan was President, the palmetto flag was hoisted over the custom-house and post-office at Charleston. Already it had been hoisted over Castle Pinckney and Fort Moultrie in the harbor of Charleston, while the national force allowed in these fortresses surrendered to Rebel slave-masters. This was followed by the seizure of Fort Pulaski at Savannah, Fort Morgan at Mobile, Fort Jackson and Fort St. Philip at New Orleans, Fort Barrancas and Fort McRae with the navy-yard at Pensacola. Throughout that whole Rebel region two fortresses only remained to the National Government: these were Fort Sumter and Fort Pickens. The steamer Star of the West, bearing reinforcements to the small garrison cooped in Fort Sumter, was fired at in the harbor of Charleston, and compelled to put back discomfited. This was war. Meanwhile the Rebel States had taken the form of a confederacy, with Slavery as corner-stone, and proceeded to organize an immense military force in the service of the Rebellion. At last, after long-continued preparations, the Rebel batteries opened upon Fort Sumter, which, after a defence of thirty-four hours, was compelled to surrender. There was rejoicing at the Rebel capital, and the Rebel Secretary of War, addressing an immense audience, let drop words which reveal the true character of the war. “No man,” said he, “can tell where the war this day commenced will end; but I will prophesy that the flag which now flaunts the breeze here will float over the dome of the old Capitol at Washington before the 1st of May. Let them try Southern chivalry and test the extent of Southern resources, and it may float eventually over Faneuil Hall itself.”[373] It was already the 12th of April, and the Rebel flag was to float over the National Capitol before the 1st of May. It was time that something should be done in self-defence. Not only the National Capitol, but Faneuil Hall, was menaced, while the boast of “Southern chivalry” went forth.

Thus far the National Government had done nothing, absolutely nothing. It had received blow after blow; it had seen its possessions, one after another, wrested from its control; it had seen State after State assume the front of Rebellion; it had seen the whole combined in a pseudo-confederacy, with a Rebel President surrounded by a Rebel Cabinet and a Rebel Congress; and it had bent under a storm of shot and shell from Rebel batteries. At last it spoke, calling the country to arms. Search history, and you can find no instance of equal audacity on the part of rebels, and no instance of equal forbearance on the part of Government.

The country was called to arms. Nobody can forget that day, when the people everywhere, inspired by patriotic ardor, rose in necessary self-defence to save the National Capitol and Faneuil Hall, already menaced. For the Rebellion the war had begun long before; but for the country it began only at that great uprising, when all seemed filled with one generous purpose, and nobody hesitated. Men calling themselves Democrats vied with Republicans. Daniel S. Dickinson and Benjamin F. Butler made haste to join their country. Party differences were forgotten as the tocsin sounded.

It was the tocsin summoning the country to defend itself. The war then and there recognized was, on our part, a war of national defence, and its simple object was to put down the Rebellion. You confuse yourself, if you say that it was to restore the Constitution; and you misrepresent the fact, if you say that it was to abolish Slavery. It was for the suppression of the Rebellion,—nor more, nor less.

Here, then, fellow-citizens, it becomes important to know and comprehend the Rebellion, and especially its animating impulse, or soul. From the beginning, its diagnosis has been essential to the right conduct of the war; and if at any time the war seems to fail, or foreign powers seem to lower, it is because our Government has not recognized the true character of the Rebellion. “Give me to see,” is the exclamation of every patriot, that our blows may not fail. To all familiar with history it was obvious, at once, that this Rebellion stood out in bad eminence, unlike any other of which we have authentic record; that it was not a dynastic struggle, as in the adventurous expeditions of the British Pretender; that it was not a religious struggle, as in the French wars of the League; that it was not a struggle against a conqueror, as in the repeated outbreaks of Ireland; that it was not a struggle for Freedom, like that of Switzerland against Austria, of Holland against Spain, of our fathers against England, of the Spanish-American States against Spain, and of Greece against Turkey; that it had in it none of these elements, whether dynasty, religion, or freedom: for it was simply a struggle for Slavery, and so completely had Slavery entered into and possessed it that the Rebellion was changed to itself. If you would find a parallel to this transcendent wickedness, you must pass “the flaming bounds of place and time,” and look on that earliest Rebellion, when Satan strove against the Almighty Throne to establish the supremacy of Sin, even as now this insensate Rebellion strives to establish the supremacy of Slavery. It is because partisans have failed to see the true character of the Rebellion, or been unwilling to recognize it, that they do not feel how absurd it is to say that the war on our part has been changed, when nothing has been done but to recognize the identity between Slavery and the Rebellion. There has been no change. It is still a war to put down the Rebellion; but we are in earnest, and are determined that the Rebellion shall not save itself by skulking under the alias of Slavery. Call it Rebellion or call it Slavery, it is one and the same.

A glance at the immediate origin of this war is enough for the present occasion. But to dispel all darkness, and to determine our duty, let me take you, for a few moments, back to the distant origin of the two elemental forces now in deadly conflict.

Looking at the question abstractly, these two elemental forces are nothing but Slavery and Liberty. It is superfluous to add that these are natural enemies, and cannot exist together. Where Slavery is, there Liberty cannot be; and where Liberty is, there Slavery cannot be. To uphold Slavery, there must be uncompromising denial of Liberty; to uphold Liberty, there must be uncompromising denial of Slavery. Each, in self-defence, must stifle the other. Therefore between the two is constant hostility and undying hate. This eternal warfare is not peculiar to our country. It belongs to the nature of universal man. If it fails to show itself anywhere, it is because Slavery has won its most detestable triumph, and blotted out the Heaven-born sentiment of Freedom. Circumstances among us, going back to our earliest history, have given unprecedented activity to these two incompatible principles, and have at last brought them into bloody battle, face to face. But it is only part of the universal conflict which must endure so long as a single slave shall wear a chain. Slavery itself is a state of war, ready to burst forth in blood, whenever the slave reclaims that liberty which is his right, or whenever mankind refuses to sanction its inhuman pretensions.

Go back to the earliest days of Colonial history, and you will find the conflict already preparing. It was in 1620 that twenty slaves were landed at Jamestown, in Virginia,—the first that ever pressed the soil of our country. In that same year the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. Those two cargoes contained the hostile germs which have ripened in our time. They fitly symbolize our gigantic strife. On one side is the slave-ship, and on the other is the Mayflower. Early events derive importance as we learn to recognize their undoubted consequences, and these two ships will be regarded with additional interest when it is seen that in them were the beginnings of the present war.

Perhaps, in all the romantic legends of the sea, there is nothing more striking than the contrast of these two vessels. Each had ventured upon an untried and perilous ocean to find an unknown and distant coast. In this they were alike; but in all else how unlike! One was freighted with human beings forcibly torn from their own country, and hurried away in chains to be sold as slaves: the other was filled with good men, who had voluntarily turned their backs upon their own country, to seek other homes, where at least they might be free. One was heavy with curses and with sorrow: the other was lifted with anthem and with prayer. And thus, at the same time, beneath the same sun, over the same waves, each found its solitary way. By no effort of imagination do we see on one Slavery and on the other Liberty, traversing the ocean to continue here, on this broad continent, their perpetual, immitigable war.

I am not alone in homage to the Mayflower. Others have delighted to picture her, and none with more of that consummate art which makes us see the petty craft transfigured by the divine cargo than an illustrious contemporary.