tice, the North would triumph in the great struggle which had assumed the form of a direct issue between Freedom and Slavery.
In common with many others, I had from the beginning of the war believed that the government would not be successful in putting down a rebellion based upon slavery as its avowed corner-stone, without striking a death-blow at the institution itself.
As the months went on, and disappointment and disaster succeeded one another, this conviction deepened into certainty.
When at length, in obedience to what seemed the very voice of God, the thunderbolt was launched, and, like the first gun at Concord, was heard around the world, all the enthusiasm of my nature was kindled.
The beast Secession, offspring of the dragon Slavery, drawing in his train a third part of our national stars, was pierced with the deadly wound which could not be healed.
It was the combat between Michael and Satan of Apocalyptic vision, reenacted before the eyes of the nineteenth century.