we can completely fail. As to the first, I will say but little. After serious disasters, and a long period spent in preparation, our brave armies have achieved great successes, which by some are considered finally decisive. I have heard it said that the war is practically ended. I must confess I am not of that opinion; but, although I might endeavor to show you that the rebels, however severely pressed at the present moment, have an immense country to fall back upon, in which their armies, even if they leave the Border States, may prolong the struggle for a considerable period; that difficulties of which at present we form no adequate idea await our victorious columns as they advance upon the soil of the enemy; that this prolongation of the war may bring great embarrassments upon us, financial distress, and, in case of a serious reverse to our arms, even difficulties with foreign powers, and that, in such an emergency, all the energy and patriotism which live in this American people will be put to the severest test—although I might show you all this, and warn you not to abandon yourselves too securely to deceitful illusions, yet I will drop this subject.
It would, perhaps, be useless, in this hour of triumph, to speak of apprehensions which, indeed, may and may not be justified by coming events. I am willing to suppose for the present, that fortune will smile upon us as constantly as many seem to anticipate, and that a speedy and complete military success will be gained, even if we confine ourselves strictly to the ordinary means of warfare. But the nearer we approach this end, the greater are the proportions to which rises before my mind the other problem which this very victory thrusts upon us. To a despotic government, the suppression of a rebellion and the re-establishment of the old order of things are one and the same. It sends its armies into the field, it beats the insurgents, disperses them, captures them,
