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Abolitionism demands blood,

The spirit of fanaticism is always aggressive. The attainment of one demand only inspires it with new strength and new determination to exact another. It will be satisfies with nothing but complete success, complete dominion. Its appetite is as insatiable as its spirit is truculent. In the French Revolution it gorged itself with a million of human sacrifices; and its cry was still, like the daughters of the horse-leech--‘"blood — blood — give — give. "’ For a time its sowardied will restrain it; but the moment its victim quails, that moment does it let loose sit its bloodhound ferocity, never to curb it in, until fear again drives it to its kennel.

From the beginning of this controversy, the only safety of the South has been in concert, courage, defiance. The cry of peace, peace, has been but an invitation to the fanatic to come on. The counsels of conservatism have been interpreted as counsels of cowardice. To make cowardice valiant, nothing is more effectual than a display of cowardice in its adversary. Then comes aggression, prompt, fierce, and bloody. The laggardness of the Border States has lost the Union. The laggardness of Virginia has put an end to the peace of the country. Her inaction is imputed to timidity; and fanaticism gloats upon a cowardly adversary. It has grown valiant and clamorous. It has forced Lincoln's Administration into war measures. It demands blood. As the battle stands, it is nineteen States against seven; it is eighteen millions of citizens against three millions. This is the sort of odds that fanaticism delights in. This heavy odds makes them count upon victory as a sure thing, over the seven States who have seceded. The Border States are delegated to a position of craven neutrality, as too timid to take sides in the early stages of the combat. Assured of their neutrality, the fanatical counsels of the North have forced Lincoln into war; and, until repulsed and beaten, it means to carry on the war with the high hand.

Virginia may still delay, still put up her hands for peace; but it will be at the risk of being cloven down with the battle-axe of the invader while in the very act of imprecation. Of all the South she is hated most, dreaded most. The war of the fanatic is against the slaveholder and slavery. Once having conquered the seceding States, will be spare the mother of them all, the largest slaveholder in the South, the "slave-breeder?" The distant victims having been immolated, returning from his work of blood, is it believed that the fanatic will spare the one near at hand, who has lorded it over and defied him so long ? If this war has commenced in earnest against the seceding States, Virginia may as well prepare for battle. She cannot escape the sanguinary hate of the fanatic, even by the cowardly measure of submission and alliance. She will only be set down as a coward, and there is nothing so sweet to the fanatic as the blood of a coward whom he has long been wont to fear. V ΠVictis will be her lot. The fate of her submissionists will be doubly severe. --They will have to endure the wrath of the people they have betrayed, and of the fanatics who despise and scout them. The one will hang them for scorn and shame; the other will butcher them for the love of blood.

The only honorable, the only safe policy for Virginia now, is that which she pursued in 1776. Her Tories then cried peace, peace, but she said that there was no peace. The whole wisdom of her policy, and the whole sources of her success, was embodied in the thrilling words of Henry, which she made her own:--‘"Sir, we must fight; I repeat it sir, we must fight."’ Her best policy, her safest course, is to show fight, and put away the white feather; to get up from her knees and prepare for war; to cease the whine of Union, Conference, submission, and raise the shout of defiance, even though her knees smite together at the sound of her own voice. To avoid the danger, she must meet it plump. To escape the expenses of war, she must be in condition to defy her adversaries. To save rivers of that blood which her submissionists turn pale at the mere thought of, she must, like Abraham on Mount Horeb, be ready to offer it up freely.

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