Burnside, to
appear great, or to get hold of the army, denounces Burnside
secretly to the President: the President forbids the movement. What
a confusion! Mr. Lincoln, either accept Burnside's resignation,
which he has repeatedly offered, or kick down the denouncers.
Accident made me discover almost next day, the names of the two
generals sent by Franklin on this denunciatory errand--John Cochran
and Newton. I instantly told all to Stanton, who was almost ignorant
of Franklin's surreptitiousness. I also told it to several Senators.

The Army of the Potomac is altogether demoralized--above all, in the
higher grades. It could not be otherwise if they were angels.
McClellanism was and is propitious to general disorder, and how Mr.
Lincoln improves is exemplified above. Independent men, independent
Senators and Representatives who approach Mr. Lincoln, find him
peevish, irritable, intractable to all patriots. _All these are
criteria of a lofty mind and character._ Weed, Seward, Harris,
Blair, and such ones alone, are agreeable in the White House.

So much is spoken of the war powers of the President; I study, and
study, and cannot find them as absolute as the Lincolnites construe
them. All that I read in the Constitution are the real _war powers_
in the Congress, and the President is only the executor of those
powers. The President must have permission for every thing, almost
at every step--and has no right to issue decrees. He has no war
powers over those of Congress, and can act very little on his own
hook. It seems to me that Congress, misled, confused by casuists,
expounders, and by small intellects worshipping routine, that
Congress rather abdicated their powers, and that the bunglers around
Lincoln, in his name greedily seized the above powers.

Poor Lincoln! As the devil dreads holy water, so Mr. Lincoln dreads
to be surrounded with stern, earnest, ardent, patriotic advisers.
Such men would not listen to stories!

_January 11._--The thus-called metropolitan press is in the hands of
old politicians, old hacks--and no new forces or intellects pierce
through. It is a phenomenon. In any whatever country in Europe, at
every convulsion the press bristles with new, fresh intellects.
Here, the old nightcaps have the monopoly. Farther: those
respectable fossils reside at a distance from the focus of affairs,
are not directly in contact with events and men, and are in no
communion with them. The Grand Lamas of the press d