expectations of those most clamorous for it. It did, as charged, very
much 'unite the South and divide the North.'"

In the autumn of 1862 there took place the elections for Representatives
to the Thirty-eighth Congress. The most ingenious sophist could hardly
maintain that strenuous anti-slavery voters, who had been angry with the
government for backwardness in the emancipation policy, ought now to
manifest their discontent by voting the Democratic ticket. If there
should be a Democratic reaction at the polls it could not possibly be
construed otherwise than as a reaction against anti-slavery; it would
undeniably indicate that Congress and the administration had been too
hostile rather than too friendly towards that cause of the strife, that
they had outstripped rather than fallen behind popular sympathy. It soon
became evident that a formidable reaction of this kind had taken place,
that dissatisfaction with the anti-slavery measures and discouragement
at the military failures, together, were even imperiling Republican
ascendency. Now all knew, though some might not be willing to say, that
the loss of Republican ascendency meant, in fact, the speedy settlement
of the war by compromise; and the South was undoubtedly in earnest in
declaring that there could be no compromise without disunion. Therefore,
in those elections of the autumn months in 1862 the whole question of
Union or Disunion had to be fought out at the polls in the loyal States,
and there was an appalling chance of its going against the Unionist
party. "The administration," says Mr. Blaine, "was now subjected to a
fight for its life;" and for a while the fortunes of that mortal combat
wore a most alarming aspect.

The Democracy made its fight on the ground that the anti-slavery
legislation of the Republican majority in the Thirty-seventh Congress
had substantially made abolition the ultimate purpose of the war. Here,