He read its provisions again with the utmost care. He made no attack on Slavery, or the slave-holder. He was striking the blow against the wealth and power of the South for the sole purpose of crippling her resources and weakening her power to continue the struggle to divide the Union. There was in it not one word concerning the rights of man or the equal rights of black and white men. His mind was absolutely clear on that point. The negro when freed would be an alien race so low in the scale of being, so utterly different in temperament and character from the white man that their remaining in physical contact with each other in our Republic was unthinkable. In the Emancipation Proclamation itself, therefore, he had written the principles of the colonization of the negro race. The two things were inseparable. He could conceive of no greater calamity befalling the Nation than to leave the freed black man within its borders as an eternal menace to its future happiness and progress.
He called his Secretary and ordered a Cabinet meeting to fix the date on which to issue this momentous document to the world—a challenge to mortal combat to his foes in all sections.
[CHAPTER XVII]
[THE DAY'S WORK]
Betty Winter held John Vaughan's note in her hand staring at its message with increasing amazement:
"Dear Little Sweetheart:
"The President has just called General McClellan again to the chief command. His act vindicates my loyalty. Our quarrel is too absurd. Life is too short, dear, for this—it's only long enough for love. May I see you at once?
"John."
Could it be true? For a moment she refused to believe it. The President had expressed to her his deep conviction of McClellan's guilt. How could he reverse his position on so vital and tremendous a matter over night? And yet John Vaughan was incapable of the cheap trick of lying to make an engagement.