The Departure--Farewell Remarks--Speech at Toledo--At Indianapolis--At Cincinnati--At Columbus--At Steubenville-- At Pittsburgh--At Cleveland--At Buffalo--At Albany--At Poughkeepsie--At New York--At Trenton--At Philadelphia--At “Independence Hall”--Flag-raising--Speech at Harrisburg--Secret Departure for Washington--Comments. Thus matters stood--the air filled with mutterings of an approaching storm--the most filled with a certain undefinable anxiety--the hearts of many failing them through fear--when, on the morning of the 11th of February, 1861, the President elect with his family, bade adieu to that prairie home which, alas! he was never again to see. * * * * * The large throng which had assembled at the railway station on the occasion of his departure, he addressed in words replete with the pathos of every true manly nature: “MY FRIENDS:--No one, not in my position, can appreciate the sadness I feel at this parting. To this people I owe all that I am. Here I have lived more than a quarter of a century; here my children were born, and here one of them lies buried. I know not how soon I shall see you again. A duty devolves upon me which is, perhaps, greater than that which has devolved upon any other man since the days of Washington. He never could have succeeded except for the aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at all times relied. I feel that I cannot succeed without the same Divine aid which sustained him; and in the same Almighty being I place my reliance for support, and I hope you, my friends, will all pray that I may receive that Divine assistance, without which I can not succeed, but with which success is certain. Again, I bid you all an affectionate farewell.” Along the route, multitudes gathered at the stations to greet him. At Toledo, Ohio, in reply to repeated calls, he appeared on the platform of the car and said: “I am leaving you on an errand of national importance, attended, as you are aware, with considerable difficulties. Let us believe, as some poet has expressed it, ‘Behind the cloud the sun is shining still.’ I bid you an affectionate farewell.” At Indianapolis, on the evening of the same day, in reply to an official address of welcome, he gave the first direct public intimation of his views concerning the absorbing topics of the day, in which homely sense and cheerful pleasantry were blended with a skill beyond the power of mere art: “FELLOW CITIZENS OF THE STATE OF INDIANA:--I am here to thank you for this magnificent welcome, and still more for the very generous support given by your State to that political cause, which, I think, is the true and just cause of the whole country, and the whole world. Solomon says, ‘there is a time to keep silence;’ and when men wrangle by the mouth, with no certainty that they mean the same thing while using the same words, it perhaps were as well if they would keep silence.