the gloomy Kentuckian:

"I would ask him," said he, "what would you have us do now--a
Confederate Army within twenty miles of us, advancing, or threatening to
advance, to overwhelm your Government; to shake the pillars of the
Union, to bring it around your head, if you stay here, in ruins? Are we
to stop and talk about an uprising sentiment in the North against the
War? Are we to predict evil, and retire from what we predict? Is it
not the manly part to go on as we have begun, to raise money, and levy
Armies, to organize them, to prepare to advance; when we do advance, to
regulate that advance by all the laws and regulations that civilization
and humanity will allow in time of battle? Can we do anything more? To
talk to us about stopping, is idle; we will never stop. Will the
Senator yield to Rebellion? Will he shrink from armed Insurrection?
Will his State justify it? Will its better public opinion allow it?
Shall we send a flag of Truce? What would he have? Or would he conduct
this War so feebly, that the whole World would smile at us in derision?"

And then cried the orator-his voice rising to a higher key, penetrating,
yet musical as the blast from a silver trumpet: "What would he have?
These speeches of his, sown broadcast over the Land, what clear distinct
meaning have they? Are they not intended for disorganization in our
very midst? Are they not intended to dull our weapons? Are they not
intended to destroy our zeal? Are they not intended to animate our
enemies? Sir, are they not words of brilliant, polished Treason, even
in the very Capitol of the Nation?

"What would have been thought, if, in another Capitol, in another
Republic, in a yet more martial age, a Senator as grave, not more
eloquent or dignified than the Senator from Kentucky, yet with the Roman