Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 1.

“ [246] enlarged, and kind disposition manifested in that noble Convention of 1787, which framed our Constitution, be the controlling disposition of the new convention, we may hope for some amicable adjustment. If for any reason this mode cannot be carried out, then the second method is one which circumstances may unhappily force upon us; but even this mode, so lamentable in itself considered, and so extreme — so repulsive to an American heart, if judiciously used, may eventuate in a modified and even stronger Union. This is the temporary yielding to the desire of the South for a separate confederacy; in other words, an assent to negotiations for a temporary dissolution of the present Union. My object in this mode is to secure, in the end, a more permanent perpetual Union. I well know that this is a startling proposition, and may seem to involve a paradox; but look at it calmly and carefully, and understand what is involved in such an assent. It involves, as a paramount consideration, a total cessation on our part of the irritating process which for thirty years has been in operation against the South. If this system of vituperation cannot be quelled because we have ‘freedom of speech;’ if we cannot refrain from the use of exasperating and opprobious language toward our brethren, and from offensive intermeddling with their domestic affairs, then, of course, the plan fails, and so will all others for a true union. If we cannot tame our tongues, neither union nor peace with neighbors, nor domestic tranquillity in our homes, can be expected.”

This earnest apostle of Peace then proceeds to notice some of the formidable difficulties in the way, such as fixing the boundary-line between the “two confederacies,” and the weighty necessity of maintaining, in peaceful relations, a standing military army and an army of custom house officials. These considerations, he believed (assuming that both parties should never lose their temper), would cause a perception of the necessity for compromise, “which embodies a sentiment vital to the existence of any society.” There then would be the difficulty of an equitable distribution of the public property, as well as an agreement upon the terms of a treaty “offensive and defensive between the confederacies. Coercion,” he said, “of one State by another, or of one Federated Union by another Federated Union,” was not to be thought of. “The idea is so fruitful of crime and disaster that no man, in his right mind, can entertain it for a moment.”

Supposing all these matters to be definitely settled to the perfect satisfaction of all parties, the question naturally arose in the mind of the writer, “What is to become of the Flag of the Union?” He answered, “ The Southern section is now agitating the question of a device for their distinctive flag. Cannot this question of flags be so settled as to aid in a future Union? I think it can. If the country can be divided, why not the flag? The Stars and Stripes is the flag in which we all have a deep and the selfsame interest. It is hallowed by the common victories of our several wars. We all have sacred associations clustering around it in common, and, therefore, if we must be two nations, neither nation can lay exclusive claim to it without manifest injustice and offense to the other. Neither will consent to throw it aside altogether for a new and strange device, with no associations of the past to hallow it.

The most obvious solution of the difficulties which spring up in this respect is to divide the old flag, giving half to each. It may be done, and

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