of ovations from the
enthusiastic Rebels, to which he had responded with no less than
twenty-five speeches, very similar in tone to those made in the United
States Senate by Mr. Wigfall and others of that ilk--breathing at once
defiance and hopefulness, while admitting the difficulties in the way
of the new Confederacy.

"It may be," said he, at Jackson, "that we will be confronted by War;
that the attempt will be made to blockade our ports, to starve us out;
but they (the Union men of the North) know little of the Southern heart,
of Southern endurance. No amount of privation could force us to remain
in a Union on unequal terms. England and France would not allow our
great staple to be dammed up within our present limits; the starving
thousands in their midst would not allow it. We have nothing to
apprehend from Blockade. But if they attempt invasion by land, we must
take the War out of our territory. If War must come, it must be upon
Northern, and not upon Southern soil. In the meantime, if they were
prepared to grant us Peace, to recognize our equality, all is well."

And, in his speech at Stevenson, Alabama, said he "Your Border States
will gladly come into the Southern Confederacy within sixty days, as we
will be their only friends. England will recognize us, and a glorious
future is before us. The grass will grow in the Northern cities, where
the pavements have been worn off by the tread of Commerce. We will
carry War where it is easy to advance--where food for the sword and
torch await our Armies in the densely populated cities; and though they
may come and spoil our crops, we can raise them as before; while they
cannot rear the cities which took years of industry and millions of
money to build."

Very different in tone to these, were the kindly and sensible utterances
of Mr. Lincoln on his journey from Springfield to Washington, about the
same time, for Inauguration as President of the United States. Leaving
Springfield, Illinois, February 11th, he had pathetically said:

"My friends: No one, not in my position, can realize the sadness I feel
at this parting. To this people I owe all that I am. Here I have lived
more than a quarter of a century. Here my children were born, and here
one of them lies buried. I know not how soon I shall see you again. I
go to assume a task more difficult than that which has devolved upon any
other man since the days of Washington. He never would have succeeded
ex