* * * * * It was easy to see from the beginning that the Rebellion had its origin in Slavery,--that without Slavery it never could have broken forth,--that, when begun, it was continued only through Slavery,--that Slavery was at once the curse that pursued, the principle that governed, and the power that sustained,--and the Oligarchy of slave-masters, three hundred and fifty thousand all told, were the criminals through whom all this direful wickedness was organized and waged. Such is the unquestionable diagnosis of the case, which history will recognize, and a wise statesmanship must have seen promptly. Not to see Slavery in this guilty character was a mistake, and grievously have we answered for it. All are agreed now that Buchanan played into Rebel hands, when, declaring that there can be no coercion of a State, he refused to touch the Rebellion. Alas! alas! we, too, may play into Rebel hands, when, out of strange and incomprehensible forbearance, we refuse to touch Slavery, which is the very life of the Rebellion. Pardon these allusions, made in no spirit of criticism, but simply that I may accumulate new motives for that Proclamation which I rejoice to welcome as herald of peace. * * * * * There are many generals already in the field,--upwards of thirty major-generals, and two hundred brigadiers; but, meritorious and brave as they may be, there is a general better than all, whom the President now commissions,--I mean General Emancipation. * * * * * It is common to speak of God as on the side of the heavy battalions. Whatever the truth of this saying, it does not contain the whole truth. Heavy battalions are something, but they are not everything. Even if prevailing on the battle-field, which is not always the case, the victory they compel is not final. It is impotent to secure that tranquillity essential to national life. Mind is above matter, right is more than force, and it is vain to attempt conquest merely by matter or by force. If this can be done in small affairs, it cannot in large; for these yield only to moral influences. Napoleon was the great master of war, and yet, from his utterances at St. Helena, the legacy of his transcendent experience, comes this confession: “The more I study the world, the more am I convinced of the inability of _brute force_ to create anything durable.” And another Frenchman, of subtile thought and perfect integrity, whose name is linked forever with American institutions, De Tocqueville, has paid a similar tribute to truth. “Force,” says he, “is never more than a transient element of success. A government only able to crush its enemies on the field of battle would very soon be destroyed.” In these authoritative words of the warrior and the thinker there is warning not to put trust in batteries or bayonets, while an unconquerable instinct makes us confess that might cannot constitute right.