The seven States partly out of the Union; the yet unfinished ranks of the Southern Confederacy; the baffling questions of compromise with the claims and rights of the South to national property are agitated. The incredulous folly of the North and the newspaper sympathy of the great Northern cities drag the whole question of war slowly along. In the West (a month later in news), the people fondly believe the bonds of the Union will not be broken. Many think the South will drop out quietly. Lincoln's policy is utterly unknown. Distance has dulled the echo of the hostile guns fired at the STAR OF THE WEST by armed traitors, on January 9, at Charleston. Jefferson Davis's shadowy Confederacy of the same fatal date is regarded as only a temporary menace to the Union. The great border States are not yet in line. Paltering old President Buchanan has found no warrant to draw the nation's sword in defence of the outraged flag. Congress is a camp of warring enemies. Even the conspirators cling to their comfortable chairs. It is hard to realize, by the blue Pacific, that the flag is already down. No one knows the fatal dead line between "State" and "Union." So recruits come in slowly to the Knights of the Golden Circle, in California. Secession is only a dark thunder-cloud, hanging ominously in the sky. The red lightning of war lingers in its sulphury bosom. Hardin, Valois, and the Knights toil to secure their ends. They know not that their vigorous foes have sent trusted messengers speeding eastward to secure the removal of General Albert Sidney Johnston. There is a Union League digging under their works! The four electoral votes of California cast for Lincoln tell him the State is loyal. An accidental promotion of Governor Latham to the Senate, places John G. Downey in the chair of California. If not a "coercionist," he is certainly no "rebel." The leaders of the Golden Circle feel that chivalry in the West is crushed, unless saved by a "coup de main." McDougall is a war senator. Latham, ruined by his prediction that California would go South or secede alone, sinks into political obscurity. The revolution, due to David Terry's bullet, brought men like Phelps, Sargent, T. W. Park, and John Conness to the front. Other Free-State men see the victory of their principles with joy. Sidney Johnston is the last hope of the Southern leaders. The old soldier's resignation speeds eastward on the pony express. Day by day, exciting news tells of the snapping of cord after cord. Olden amity disappears in the East. The public voice is heard. The mantle of heroic Baker as a political leader falls upon the boy preacher, Thomas Starr King. He boldly raises the song of freedom. It is now no time to lurk in the rear. Men, hitherto silent; rally around the flag.