But, just as we expected, they affirmed that they could do nothing for the colored children under the existing law; but unsolicited they pledged themselves to petition the next legislature for a law that would enable them to provide school buildings, books, apparatus, and teachers for the black children, and to support these schools, just as the schools for white children are maintained, by the public school funds. They were as good as their word. The legislature to which they appealed was mainly made up of men of radical, progressive views, and what was asked was enthusiastically granted. The school buildings for colored children were put up and all that could make these schools most highly efficient was liberally provided. The negro question for Missouri was solved in this high-minded, philanthropic way, and the solution was unstained by partisanship or demagogism; and in it we saw the grand fruition of our toil on behalf of a few private negro schools. CHAPTER XXV AFTER DARKNESS LIGHT In the beginning of the autumn of 1864 the Unionists of St. Louis were sadly disheartened. They had not been so hopeless since the war began. Men were unable to give any rational explanation of their discouragement. It probably arose from a combination of untoward events. Grant and Sherman had begun their great campaigns in Virginia and Georgia. Some hard battles had been fought but no very decisive victories had yet been gained. Mr. Lincoln had been renominated for the Presidency, but without the triumph of our arms his election seemed to us somewhat doubtful. For the opposing candidate the Democrats had nominated General McClellan, who had many enthusiastic followers. In their platform they had declared the war a failure. The existence of “The Knights of the Golden Circle,” their great numbers in several States of the Middle West and their ardent support of the Democratic candidate had become quite generally known. Such an array of antagonistic forces seemed to many of the loyal in our city, wearied with the long and costly conflict for the Union, to betoken possible defeat. In this too general gloom I could not share. With other optimistic souls I felt sure of ultimate victory. It was my duty, therefore, to impart so far as possible my confidence to others; so I preached to a full house from the text: “Think not that I came to send peace on the earth; I came not to send peace, but a sword.” The press asked for my sermon and gave it to a far greater number than those who heard it. Its closing passage enshrines the spirit and stress of that day.