Arrogance on one side, hypocrisy on the other.
Right apologized to Wrong for the sake of the Union.
The sources of justice were poisoned, and patriotism became the defender of piracy. In the name of humanity mothers were robbed of their babes.
Thirty years ago to-day a shot was fired, and in a moment all the promises, all the laws, all the constitutional amendments, and all the idiotic and heartless decisions of courts, and all the speeches of orators inspired by the hope of place and power, were blown into rags and ravelings, pieces and patches.
The North and South had been masquerading as friends, and in a moment, while the sound of that shot was ringing in their ears, they faced each other as enemies.
The roar of that cannon announced the birth of a new epoch. The echoes of that shot went out, not only over the bay of Charleston, but over the hills, the prairies and forests of the continent.
These echoes said marvelous things and uttered prophecies that none were wise enough to understand.
Who at that time had the slightest conception of the immediate future? Who then was great enough to see the end? Who then was wise enough to know that the echoes would be kept alive and repeated for years by thousands and thousands of cannon, by millions of muskets, on the fields of ruthless war?
At that time Abraham Lincoln, an Illinois lawyer, was barely a month in the President's chair, and that shot made him the most commanding and majestic figure of the nineteenth century—a figure that stands alone.
Who could have guessed the names of the heroes to be repeated by countless lips before the echoes of that shot should have died away?