not restore the old order of things but completely subvert its original basis; for the means by which it was obliged to suppress the rebellion are in direct contradiction to the fundamental principles of our government. In order to restore those principles to life, the government is obliged to trust its authority to the loyal action of the people. Therein is the embarrassment which a rebellion in a democratic republic will necessarily produce. What does it mean, the restoration of the Union? It means the restoration of individual liberty in all its parts, and of that ramification of political power in which self-government consists. If it meant anything else, if it meant the permanent holding in subjection of conquered provinces, if it meant the rule of force, if it meant the subversion of those principles of individual liberty which are the breath of our political life, would it then not be best to let the rebels go? Would it not be preferable to be content with the modest proportions to which the development of things has reduced us, to foster the principles and institutions which have made this people great and happy for so long a time with conscientious care, and to trust to the expansive power of liberty to restore this Republic in some more or less remote future to its former measure of greatness?
And yet, looking at things as they are, how can we expect to restore the Union but by the rule of force—that is to say, by a military occupation of the rebel States? But you will tell me that this will not last long. Well, and what will determine this period? The disappearance of the rebellious spirit; the return of sincere loyalty. But when and how will the rebellious spirit cease and loyalty return? True, if this rebellion were nothing but a mere momentary whim of the popular mind, if its causes could be obliterated by one of those sudden changes in popular opinion, which, in matters of minor importance, occur so
