War Begun—Firing upon Fort Sumter—“The American Eagle as you want it”—Death of Col. Ellsworth—Equips his Sons—Personal Feeling yields to Patriotism—His House a Store-House of Military Supplies—Sends a Regiment as his Substitute—Our National Flag—The Camp, its Dangers and Duties—Bull Run—Becomes Editor of the _Independent_—Salutatory—The _Trent_ Affair—Fight, Tax—Soldiers or Ferrets—Characteristics as an Editor—One Nation, one Constitution, one Starry Banner—McClellan Safe, and Richmond too—Mildly Carrying on War—The Root of the Matter—The only Ground—A Queer Pulpit—President’s Proclamation of Emancipation—Let come what will—Close of the Third Era. For five months the daily papers had borne for their prominent headlines, “The National Crisis,” “Pro-Slavery Rebellion,” “Pro-Slavery Revolution,” “The War-Cloud.” At length the issue of April 12, 1861, was headed, “The War Commenced: The first Gun fired by Fort Moultrie against Fort Sumter”; the next day, “Fort Sumter Fallen.” Mr. Beecher was lecturing in Cincinnati when the tidings came North of the bombardment of Fort Sumter. The committee who had charge of the lecture were alarmed, and, remembering the old pro-slavery riots of thirty years before, declared that it would be unsafe for him to deliver his lecture. He told them that to give that lecture was his object in coming to Cincinnati, and do it he should; if not in a hall, then on the public street. With many misgivings on their part, he was permitted to go ahead, but so great was the fear of a riot that few attended. That night he turned his steps homeward. Eager to learn his opinion of the matter, we met him on the doorsteps. His oldest son, having left his position up the river, had stopped at a recruiting station on Broadway, already opened, and enlisted, and had then come home. Fearing something of the kind, the mother gave strict commands that he should not leave the house until his father’s return—a command which he was the more ready to obey since the business had already been attended to. Naturally he felt some little solicitude as to what his father should say, and his first words were: “Father, may I enlist?” and was answered: “If you don’t I’ll disown you.” The next day was Sunday. The report of his sermon was headed thus: “Henry Ward Beecher on the Crisis: ‘What will you do, stand still or go forward?’