In further answer to the discouraging language of this resolution, let us offset the following terse and comprehensive statement of what has been accomplished in the course of the nation's 'experiment of war.' It is copied from The Evening Post of a recent date, and the writer supposes the soldiers to speak thus:
'We have not failed; on the contrary, we have fought bravely and conquered splendidly. In proof of our words we can point to such trophies as few wars can equal and none surpass. Besides defending with unusual vigilance and completeness two thousand miles of frontier, in three years we have taken from the enemies of the Union, by valor and generalship, thirty complete and thoroughly furnished fortresses; we have captured over two thousand cannon; we have reconquered and now hold nearly four thousand miles of navigable river courses; we have taken ten of the enemy's principal cities, three of them capitals of States; in thirty days last summer we captured sixty thousand prisoners; we have penetrated more than three hundred miles into the territory claimed by the enemy; we have cut that territory into strips, leaving his armies without effectual communication with each other; the main operations and interests of the war, which were lately concentrated about Baltimore, Paducah, and St. Louis, have been transferred, by our steady and constant advance, to the narrow limits of the seaboard Slave States; we hold every harbor but one, of a coast six thousand miles long. And whatever we have taken we hold; we have never turned back, or given up that which we once fairly possessed.'
It has, however, been fittingly reserved for the chief of the rebellion himself to give the full and complete answer to this dishonorable complaint of failure. Not a month after the meeting of the Chicago Convention, and on the 23d of September last, Jeff. Davis uttered these words, in a public speech, at Macon, Geo.: 'You have not many men between eighteen and forty-five left.... Two-thirds of our men are absent, some sick, some wounded, but most of them absent without leave. ... In Virginia the disparity of numbers is just an great as it is in Georgia.'
But let it be granted that after these three years and a half of war, and having accomplished such unquestionably important results, the Union is not yet restored, what then? Is that a reason for giving up now? Our fathers fought the British seven years without flinching; and under the indomitable leader God had given them, they would have fought seven years longer with equal determination. Are we less determined than they were? Are we such degenerate sons that we are willing to give up the legacy they left us, at half its original cost? There is just the same reason that we should yield the contest now as there was in 1861 that we should yield it then; neither more nor less. The integrity of the nation, the perpetuity of our institutions, the safety, honor, and welfare of the people are still at stake.
If it is true that 'justice, humanity, liberty, and the public welfare demand that immediate efforts be made for a cessation of hostilities,' then those same holy principles were assailed when the war was begun. If the United States Government was the assailant, it did wrong, and has continued doing wrong ever since; and not a century of such wrong-doing can make the war just and right on our part. This brings us face to face with the question, Who began the war? Who, in this contest, has assailed the principles of 'justice, humanity, and liberty'? Who has attacked the 'public welfare'? Has it been the United States Government? Let us revert to the occasion of the war. Confining ourselves to what all parties admit—even the rebels themselves—the immediate occasion of the war was the election of a President distasteful, for whatever cause, to the Southern leaders. Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States under the organic law of the nation, in strict accordance with all its modes and requirements, and none ever disputed the fairness of the election. That organic law is the Constitution, to which the South is bound equally with the North. The men of the Chicago Convention, who have recalled to our minds its high supremacy, neglected to express their opinion of those who, immediately on the election of President Lincoln, contemptuously spurned it, and have sought these three years and a half to overthrow it and destroy the Union which it upholds.
Every sentiment of 'justice' was outraged when wicked sedition thus without cause reared its head against the covenant of the nation. Every instinct of 'humanity' was stifled by the traitors who surrounded a gallant garrison of seventy men with a force of ten thousand, and opened fire on the heroes who stood by the flag that had been the glory and defence of both for more than half a century. 'Liberty,' in all its blessed relations of home, and country, and religion, was struck at when blind ambition thus set at defiance the power of the Union, to which liberty owes its life on this continent, and its hopes throughout the world. The constitutional liberty that is the glory of our civilization, the liberty regulated by law that is the pride of our institutions, was attacked by those who at Montgomery fiercely defied the Constitution and laws. And what shall we say of the constitution which these traitors to their country and humanity affected to establish, instead of that, the heritage of their and our Washington and his compeers, which had made our country powerful among nations, and blessed it with equal laws and equal protection to all? What shall we say of the constitution that ordained slavery as the corner stone of a new confederacy, to teach mankind the folly of Christian civilization, and bring back the 'statelier Eden' of the dark ages? To which party in this terrible strife of brothers does 'liberty' look for protection to-day? Which of the two armies of brothers now arrayed against each other on the plains of Virginia and Georgia, is fighting for the principle of order, which is the 'public welfare'? Let these questions be answered, and then it will appear how much reason there is in the declaration that 'liberty, justice, humanity, and the public welfare' demand the 'cessation of hostilities.' On the contrary, these very principles demand that the war be continued without abatement till they are guaranteed safe residence and sure protection under the United States Constitution.
But, it is objected, you ignore the basis on which, this 'cessation of hostilities' is proposed, namely, 'the Federal Union of the States.' There is a word to be said in reference to this clause which will illustrate the high-toned patriotism of some of the convention which adopted it. There was an alteration in the wording of the resolution, and some of the papers printed it accordingly, 'the basis of the Federal States.' The editor of the New York Freeman's Journal (a paper which zealously supports the Chicago platform and all peace measures, and is called Democratic), being requested to explain which version was correct, said, in a late issue of his journal, that in the original draft of the resolution 'it was not the bold doctrine of Federal States;' it was the delusion and snare of a Federal 'Union,' and that therefore the latter must be taken as the correct version.
Replying to the above objection, we say that we neither ignore this 'delusion and snare' of the Federal Union as the basis of the proposed peace, nor those other words in the fourth resolution, 'that the aim and object of the Democratic party is to preserve the Federal Union and the rights of the States unimpaired.' The question is, how possibly to reconcile the demand for an immediate 'cessation of hostilities' with this great anxiety to preserve the Federal Union? For the Federal Union can only be preserved by subduing the armed rebellion that menaces it. Anything short of the absolute and thorough defeat of the Southern armies must lower the dignity of the nation, and weaken and subvert the foundations of the Union. Thus far, by the grace of God and our right arm, the Constitution and Union are preserved, and so long as they 'still stand strong,' the basis of settlement remains; and whenever the rebels are tired of trying their strength against them, the nation stands ready to welcome them back, as penitent prodigals. It is not we who are unreconciled to them: it is they who refuse to be reconciled to us. If the illustration offend no weaker brother, we may say that, like the ever-surrounding love of God, the Federal Union is still watching over the rebels, and is only waiting the first symptom of their returning conscience to run and fall on their necks and kiss them, and bring them in peace to the home they so foolishly left. They are striving to destroy the Constitution and the Union. We oppose them. Let us consider what, under these circumstances, 'a cessation of hostilities' means.
In the first place, how are hostilities to cease, unless the power that controls the Southern armies so wills it? That power is a military despotism. It has usurped all other power within the limits of the rebellion, and the United States Government is seeking to overthrow it, in order that the Constitution may be restored, in all its benignity, to the people of the South, whom the usurpation has deprived of it. Is it, then, for the United States Government to propose to the authors of this usurpation to cease seeking its total overthrow? The question recurs, moreover, what 'cessation' have we to propose? It is for them to offer to yield: they are the aggressors, threatening the life of the nation. Is any among us so base he would have peace with dishonor? A nation cannot submit to be dishonored before the world—for its honor is its life. Yet what sort of peace would that be which we should thus begin by seeking? It is far from pertinent to cite, as some have done, the example of Napoleon on this point: even supposing that civil war were, in respect of this thing, the same as war between independent nations. For Napoleon never proposed suspensions of hostilities except in his own extremity, and as a convenient means to extricate himself from difficulties which he had the art of concealing from his adversaries. Are we in extremity, that this example of Napoleon should be suggested in support of the Chicago platform?
As to how our overtures might be received at Richmond, we are no longer left any excuse for doubting. The oft-repeated assurances of all who have fled from the rebel tyranny since the war was begun, are, at length, confirmed by the authoritative declaration of Jeff. Davis himself. It is a declaration promulgated not only by Colonel Jaquess and Mr. Gilmore, in the account given by the latter of their recent visit to Richmond, but also by Mr. Benjamin, the rebel Secretary of State, in a circular letter written for the purpose of giving the rebel account of that visit. We are told by the rebel chief himself, that as preliminary to any negotiations, the independence of the Southern Confederacy must be first acknowledged. Why does not the Chicago platform suggest a way of avoiding this difficulty? Why has it left the country in uncertainty on a question so vital?