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GOVERNOR SEYMOUR.
WE publish on the
preceding page
a portrait of Hon. HORATIO SEYMOUR, Governor-elect of New York. Governor Seymour
is a man of some fifty-five years of age; he once filled the Gubernatorial
office before, and discharged its duties with fidelity and success. He has now
been elected by a majority of some 15,000 over General Wadsworth. Governor
Seymour proclaimed his position in a speech delivered at Brooklyn during the
canvass, and we make the following extract:
"Now, when the men of the South
made the bayonet and the sword the arbiter (they elected, and not we); when they
determined to settle it by blood (and not we)—the sword, so far as the present
is concerned, must be the arbiter; and in our strong right arms it shall strike
vigorous and true blows for the life of our country, for its institutions, and
for its flag. Now let me say this to the higher law men of the North, and to the
higher law men of the South, and to the whole world that looks on witnesses to
the mighty events transpiring in this country, that this Union shall never be
severed, no, never......Whatever other men may say, as for the conservative
people of this country and as for myself as an individual—let other men say and
think what they please—as for the division of this Union, and the breaking up of
that great natural alliance which is made by nature and by nature's God, I never
will consent to it, no, never, as long as I have a voice to raise or a hand to
fight for this our glorious land."
HARPER'S WEEKLY.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1862.
THE
RECENT ELECTIONS.
THE elections in the great
Northern States have resulted uniformly in the defeat of the Administration
candidates. New York and Pennsylvania, which supported
Mr. Lincoln in 1861 and 1860 with majorities of
50,000 and 100,000, have gone decidedly in favor of the Democracy; the Democrats
have carried the Republican States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois; and the
dominant Republican party has suffered severe losses in Michigan, Wisconsin, and
Iowa. It had previously lost ground in Connecticut and Maine. In the Congress
which will assemble for the transaction of business a year hence the Democrats
will have a decided majority.
Just two considerations are
suggested by these startling evidences of a change in public opinion; first,
what caused the change? next, what practical effect will it have on the
prosecution of the war?
A number of plausible reasons
have been assigned for the sudden increase of the
Democratic and decline of the Republican vote
throughout the North.
Mr. Greeley thinks that the Republicans have
gone to the war to fight, while the Democrats have staid at home to vote. But
even the Tribune will not claim the men who enlisted from this city, as, for
instance, Sickles's and Meagher's brigades as Republicans; and it was the large
Democratic majority in this city which carried the State for Seymour. Again,
every one who has correspondents in the army knows that the rank and file, at
least in the army of the Potomac, sympathized with the Democracy, and cherished
the ancient
Democratic prejudice against the negro to the
utmost extent. We are inclined to think that if the army had voted—as did the
soldiers of Iowa, Missouri, and other States — the Democratic majority in New
York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, would rather have been
increased than diminished. Another set of politicians, who sympathize more or
less with the rebels, construe the recent elections as a rebuke to the men whom
they call "Abolitionists," and infer that the North is ready to meet the South
on the basis of some such compromise as that to which Senator Crittenden, in an
unguarded moment, lent his previously-respected name. These politicians are
probably equally mistaken with regard to the temper of both sections. The South
is unwilling to accept any compromise, and if the successful Democracy attempt
to make one, they will fail as ignominiously as they did at
Charleston. So far as the Northern Democracy
are concerned, they are quite as far from being prepared to admit that the Union
is dissolved as the most ardent supporters of the Administration. A member here
and there, hailing from this city or the West, and in his heart a partner in the
guilt of the rebels, may attempt to assist their schemes; but the great bulk of
the Northern Democracy are as loyal to the Union as Mr. Lincoln himself.
Whatever they meant by their October and November votes, no one who knows them
will believe that they meant to acquiesce in the severance of the Union.
So far as we can judge, the
soundest explanation of the recent Democratic victories ascribes them to a
general dissatisfaction with the results of the war. In some men this
dissatisfaction took the shape of a revolt against the radical influences which
have controlled the Administration from time to time. Others were dissatisfied
because the President retained
Generals McClellan and
Buell in command. Others, again, and these
probably constituted the majority, looked at the subject from no partisan point
of view, but merely desired to testify their sense of disgust at the small
results which have been achieved by the enormous outlay of men, money, spirit,
and energy placed at the service of the Government by the loyal citizens of the
United States. No nation in the world—not even France in 1790—ever placed
itself, its
sons, its means, its liberties,
and its life so wholly and unreservedly in the hands of its Government as we did
a year ago. The people of the North asked each other—what has Mr. Lincoln done
with what we gave him? and voted accordingly.
With regard to the effect of the
recent elections we can not see that they are calculated to lead to any
important changes. A few traitors elected here and there will try to serve the
rebel cause. But they will clearly prove powerless against the overwhelming
loyalty of the Northern masses. From necessity the Democratic victors will have
to go for a more thorough prosecution of the war. The people of the North—by
whatever political designation they are known—are unanimous and resolute against
the division of the country. A few Democratic leaders may be so blind as to
dream of a compromise, disgracefully ignominious to the North, and practically
fatal to the South. But these schemers will soon find themselves disavowed by
both sections. In time of war, when the people understand themselves, there is
but one party, and that is the party who goes for putting down the enemy.
Whatever the intentions of the successful Democrats may have been, when the
responsibility comes to be laid upon their shoulders they will find themselves
compelled to pursue the same policy as their opponents, and to rely for success
with the people upon excelling the Republicans in energy and zeal for the cause.
THE
REMOVAL OF GENERAL
McCLELLAN.
WE record in another column the
removal of GENERAL McCLELLAN from the command of the Army of the Potomac, and
the appointment of
GENERAL AMBROSE E. BURNSIDE to the vacant post.
The President appears to have determined upon the step in the last week of
October; but for reasons which can readily be conceived it was not carried into
effect till the 8th inst. A dispatch from
General Halleck to the Secretary of War,
bearing date October 28, explains time reasons which led the President to act.
After the
Battle of Antietam General Halleck first urged,
then ordered General McClellan to move across the Potomac. He did not move for
three weeks, and, in General Halleck's opinion, no good excuse existed for his
disobedience and delay.
General McClellan's friends, who
are legion, will urge in his defense that a General in command of an army of
200,000 men, and responsible not only for his own success but for their lives,
is the best judge of when and how he should move, and can not be bound to obey
the orders of persons at a distance from the scene of action, and without direct
personal responsibility in the matter. It will doubtless further be urged that,
however slow General M'Clellan may have been during the first three weeks of
October, he was moving with remarkable celerity when the order for his removal
was handed to him. Many other good arguments may be advanced in vindication of
the displaced General, but they are not likely to be much heard of just now.
Both the people and the army are too intent upon the great work of suppressing
the rebellion to trouble themselves about side issues. After the war there will
be time to inquire into and pass judgment upon them, and then, if injustice has
been done to McClellan, he will probably be elected President.
Meanwhile it is a source of
unmixed satisfaction to know that the Army of the Potomac is led by a man like
Burnside, a soldier who to the greatest military skill unites dash, energy, and
the prestige of success, and a man of the most exalted character and the noblest
heart. The country unites in the cry, GOD SPEED BURNSIDE!
THE
LOUNGER.
THE FACTS OF THE CASE.
REACTIONS may change events, but
they can not alter principles. The Government of the United States and the
Union, of which it is the supreme authority, are threatened by rebels in arms.
That authority must be maintained entirely, or it is altogether overthrown. You
may make never so small a hole in the side of your ship, but it will be large
enough to admit the ocean, and your ship will inevitably go down. You may make
the slightest concession of the threatened authority of the Government, but in
making it you relinquish that authority utterly. If the city magistrates and
police and militia, after endeavoring for many a day to disperse a riot, should
at last say, "Very well, what is it you want?" and allow the rioters to destroy
only one building or burn only one poor Irishman, that city is conquered. Is
there any security for peace, for life any longer, except in the whim of the
mob? It is precisely so with the war. Either the Government must be maintained
in every particular of its authority, or is dishonored entirely. To change it,
to allow the rebels to go, to declare that such rebellions always end in
compromise, is to renounce the Government altogether, and to proclaim the
intention of surrender.
The Constitution of the United
States clothes the Government with authority to do what, under any
circumstances, it inevitably and instinctively would do; namely, defend its own
existence by
force. Whatever is necessary to
this defense the Government may lawfully do; and it is, of course, itself the
judge of the necessity. It may stop mouths and pens; it may seize property and
liberate slaves; it may cut off supplies, and by famine and force and fear
compel the refractory citizens to obedience.
All this the Government may do.
Common-sense apprises us of it, even if it were not carefully provided by the
Constitution that in case of rebellion and invasion the
writ of habeas corpus may be suspended, and
that the President, as commander-in-chief of the army and navy, shall forcibly
compel submission to the law. But the Government is the people. If they
disapprove what is done, it will be undone or it will be fruitless. If they are
not in earnest, they will not justify earnest war. If they are in earnest, they
will not tolerate trifling and delay.
In our own case the truth remains
true whatever happens. If for any reason the people shall tire of the war, or
the forcible compulsion of rebels to obey the law: if they shall say that they
are willing to put down the insurrection if they can do it with half a million
of men and five hundred millions of dollars, but not if the work requires six
hundred thousand men and a thousand million of dollars: if they shall say that
they are willing to use field-pieces but not gun-boats: if they say that they do
not object to cutting off a supply train, but do object to touching, or even
trying to touch, the source of the supplies: if they shall say that they are
willing to shoot rebels in the field, but that they prefer to guard the slaves
of rebels upon the plantations: if they shall declare that every body may say
and do just what he pleases during the war, short of actually taking up arms
against the Government: if they shall say that the rebellion was really caused
by the men who are now fighting against it, and not by the rebels themselves:
and, finally, if they shall say that the game is not worth the candle, and that
they will no longer "imbrue their hands in fratricidal blood," they will compel
the authorities to make peace with the rebels upon the best possible terms,
whether of separation or compromise.
Such a result is inevitable if
the people are tired of the war. That such a peace could be but a truce breaking
into worse wars may be true, but that would not help the result. That such a
peace would be the total destruction of the Government, the ruin of the popular
system, and the betrayal of the hope of civil liberty every where, is
unquestionably true; but what then? If the people are willing to betray
themselves, to be forever disgraced, and to become the scorn of history, it is
in vain that the authorities protest.
What then is the duty of every
truly loyal man? Simply to show as plainly as he can that the welfare of each
one of us depends upon the unconditional maintenance of the Government; that no
civil right is secure for a moment except in this Government; and, therefore,
that to maintain it the most decisive and radical measures must be adopted by
the authorities and supported by the people. There have always been, there will
always be, but two issues out of the war. One is absolute victory: the other is
entire submission. If we are truly in earnest as the rebels are, we shall win
the victory cost what it may. If we are not in earnest, we shall be conquered
and disgraced.
GENERAL MITCHELL.
BY the death of
General Mitchell the country loses one of the
fiery souls that compel victory. The purity and fervor of his patriotism were of
the antique mould. From the first words he spoke at the great
Union Square meeting after
Sumter, through his gallant and brilliant
service at the West to the commencement of his Southern campaign, his life was
an act of utter self-renunciation and devotion.
Those who saw him just before he
left for the Department of the South were fully aware of his convictions as to
the state of the country and the prospects of the cause. He knew, as every body
else did, that to send him to
Hilton Head, with the handful of men there, was
to send him into exile. But he made no complaint. He said that he believed he
was a good soldier. "As for Generalship I do not judge," he said; "but I know
that the whole duty of a soldier is to obey orders, and I believe that I can do
that." He did it. He came from Alabama when he was summoned to Washington in the
shortest possible time. He reported for orders. He was told to wait. He waited
and waited week after week, and was finally sent to South Carolina, and went.
There were doubtless divided
counsels about him at Washington. He was a fighting General; a dashing, ardent,
popular leader. He believed that the war must be fought out by every means. He
did not believe in waiting, nor in gently tapping the enemy, nor in tampering
with treason and traitors; but in sweeping suddenly, and striking stunning blows
with overwhelming power. General Mitchell's theory of the war was, that it is a
mortal conflict between the spirit of despotism and that of lawful Liberty; that
there could be in the nature of things no concession, no compromise; that either
the nation would conquer and establish its government permanently as the defense
and guarantee of Liberty, or be dismembered and ruined. Born in
Kentucky, he knew the section with which we are
fighting. By disposition conservative, he doubted whether the people were ready
to rely upon the principle indicated by Mr. Lincoln's election, and therefore
apprehended with misgiving the possible result of the war which that election
was sure to provoke. But when the war came he sprang to the field with the
battle-cry of America and Liberty upon his lips, and they had no other language
until they were cold forever.
He had bitter enemies—but they
were not among the soldiers he commanded. It was said that he covered a great
deal of territory in the southwest, and that if such work made a commander he
was a good one. It was sneered that his exploits resounded
in the newspapers, but were of no
actual importance or military significance. It was coldly said that he was a
better orator than soldier. But if any General in this war has done what he was
sent to do, it is General Mitchell. His western services, within his means, do
not suffer by comparison with those of any other officer who has served in that
department. His inauguration of the Southern campaign was but partly successful
at Pocotaligo; but not from want of skill in devising or bravery in the men. The
battle was a victory as far as it went. The enemy were successively driven from
the three positions they chose. Then our force withdrew, not being adequate to
pushing further. But the partial successes of Generals who had every means have
been hitherto, in the war, hailed by us, and reported by them, as victories.
Like all men who feel profoundly,
and who occupy conspicuous positions in a civil war, General Mitchell will
receive no unqualified censure or praise. There is not a man of military
eminence in this war, unless it be, at the present moment, General Burnside, who
is not, and who will not be, the object of intense party-feeling.
Fremont, McClellan,
Sigel, Halleck, Hunter, Buell are all
vehemently extolled and censured. It is not a fate at which Mitchell repined. He
had counted the cost, and he held every thing light when weighed with the
salvation of his country. A soul of fire, he would willingly have sought by
speech to kindle his fellow-citizens to the glow of his own conviction if he had
not felt that his duty was with the sword. That duty is done now, and done
nobly. May God rest the brave soldier, and inspire us all to speak and strike
for our country with the same purity of purpose and fervor of conviction!
SOME NEW BOOKS.
ANTHONY TROLLOPE'S "Orley Farm"
is admitted to be the best, as it is the most elaborate, of his novels. He
leaves his usual beat. He steps out of Church into Court. He turns his back upon
cathedral closes, and the little quarrels and match-makings of clergymen and
their wives, and paints a picture of crime and its course at law which an
English authority says is much the finest picture of the legal profession in
English Literature. Mr. Trollope's peculiar style, which has Thackeray's
intimacy with his reader without his racy elegance, and which is often flippant
rather than easy, is remarkably adapted to the story of familiar life he is so
fond of telling; while Millais's illustrations are equally modern and
characteristic. There is a cheerful, chirping, John Bullish good sense in all
that Trollope writes—a comfortable and not disagreeable depth of insight and
observation—which account for his great current popularity. The friends of
"Doctor Thorne" and "Framley Parsonage" will find time same charm in "Orley
Farm."
The Memoirs of Dr. Nicholas
Murray, by S. Irenaeus Prime, are a brief account of the incidents in time life
of a "self-made" man, as a certain class of strong-willed, self-relying people
are called. Dr. Murray was a poor Irish boy who came to this country, and who,
after a little while, if this paper had then been published, would have helped
set the type, for he was a workman in this office; who was converted from the
Romish to the Protestant Church, became a noted clergyman, and at last made his
name widely known by a series of controversial letters to Bishop Hughes, under
the signature of "Kirwan." These letters are most trenchant popular theological
weapons. They had a great sale, and were doubtless of great service to time
cause they advocated. Dr. Murray was evidently a hearty, vigorous man—of a
generous nature, and a clear, positive mind. Mr. Prime's Memoir judiciously
leaves "Kirwan" to tell his own story as far as practicable.
Mrs. Oliphant's Memoir of Edward
Irving is the story of a very different life and work from those of Kirwan. He,
too, was a clergyman, but it could hardly be said that his mind was clear. He
was a noble man, and his life, in a certain way, was most romantic. No one who
is at all interested in the religious history or romance of our times but will
read it with the greatest interest. To many, also, the words of Thomas Carlyle,
in speaking of Irving, will awaken the strongest wish to know exactly what he
was. "But for Irving," says Carlyle, "I had never known what the communion of
man with man means. His was the freest, brotherliest, bravest human soul mine
ever came in contact with. I call him, upon the whole, the best man I have ever,
after trial enough, found in this world or hope to find."
A novel, "Abel Drake's Wife," by
John Saunders, is a story of a great deal of interest and power. General
attention is so riveted by the great novelists that some word is essential to
introduce the new aspirants. In this story there seems to us to be more real
power than in such a tale as Bulwer's "Strange Story." Indeed, much of the
finest talent in our literature is found in the less known novels—books like
"The Collegians" or "A Lost Love."
Besides these works, there are
the "Thirteen Months in time Rebel Army," an admirable interior view of the
rebellion; and Mr. Beecher's "Eyes and Ears," a volume of delightful
characteristic essays upon all kinds of subjects; and Mr. Marsh's "Origin and
History of the English Language," a work of noble scholarship and great value.
If the war reduces the number of
new books it does not injure their quality.
HOLDING UP THE HANDS.
THERE is a remarkable fact in our
current history. The President is praised on all sides, yet nobody is satisfied
with the conduct of the war. The "Radicals" cry, God bless him! The
"Conservatives" talk of holding up his hands. Now somebody does not mean what he
says. "If we all mean to stand by the President what are we quarreling about? If
we all mean to stand by the (Next
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