be the consequences? I think I see in the future a gory head rise above the horizon. Its name is Civil War. Already I can see the prints of his bloody fingers upon our lintels and door-posts. The vision sickens me already; and I turn your view away. O Georgians, avert from your State this bloody scourge. Surely your love of the Union is not so great but that you can offer it on the altar of fraternal peace. Come, then, legislators, selected, as you are, to represent the wisdom and intelligence of Georgia; wait not till the grog-shops and cross-roads`shall send up a discordant voice from a divided people; but act as leaders in guiding and forming public opinion. Speak no uncertain words, but let your united voice go forth to be resounded from every mountain-top and echoed from every gaping valley; let it be written in the rainbow which arches our falls and read in the crest of every wave upon our ocean shores, until it shall put a tongue in every bleeding wound of Georgia's mangled honor, which shall cry to heaven for Liberty or Death!

-General T. R. R. Cobb.

[Extract from an address in advocacy of secession delivered before the General Assembly of Georgia at Milledgeville on November 12, 1860, just after President Lincoln's election.]

WHAT THE SOUTH DEMANDS.

Senators, my countrymen have demanded no new government. They have demanded no new Constitution. The discontented States have demanded nothing but clear, distinct constitutional rights, rights older than the Constitution. What do these rebels demand? First, that the

people of the United States shall have an equal right to emigrate and settle in the territories with whatever property they may possess. Second, that property in slaves shall be entitled to the same protection from the government as any other property, leaving the State the right to prohibit or abolish. Third, that persons committing

crimes against slave property in one State and flying to another shall be given up. Fourth, that fugitive slaves shall be surrendered. Fifth, that Congress shall pass laws for the punishment of all persons who shall aid and abet invasion and insurrection in any other State. We demand these five propositions. Are they not right? Are they not just? We will pause and consider them; but, mark me, we will not let you decide the questions for us. I have little care to dispute remedies with you unless you propose to redress our wrongs. But no matter what may be our grievances, the honorable Senator from Kentucky says we can not secede. Well, what can we do? We can not revolutionize. He will say it is treason. What can we do? Submit? We will stand by the right; we will take the Constitution; we will defend it with the sword, with the halter around our necks. You can not intimidate my constituents by talking to them of treason.

You will not regard Confederate obligations; you will not regard constitutional obligations; you will not regard your oaths. What, then, am I to do? Am I a free man? Is my State a free State? We are free men. We have rights. I have stated them. We have wrongs. I have recounted them. I have demonstrated that the party now coming into power has declared us outlaws and is determined to exclude thousands of millions of our property from the common territory; that it has declared us under

the ban of the Union and out of the protection of the laws of the United States everywhere. They have refused to protect us from invasion and insurrection by the Federal power and the Constitution denies to us in the Union the right to raise fleets and armies for our own defense. All these charges I have proven by the record; and I put them before the civilized world and demand the judgment of to-day, of to-morrow, of distant ages and of heaven itself upon the justice of these causes. We have appealed time and again for these constitutional rights. You have refused them. We appeal again. Restore to us those rights as we had them; as your court adjudges them to be; just as our own people have said they are. Redress these flagrant wrongs-seen of all men—and it will restore fraternity and unity and peace to us all. Refuse them and what then? We shall then ask you: Let us depart in peace. Refuse this, and you present us war. We accept it and inscribing upon our banners the glorious words, "Liberty and Equality," we will trust to the blood of the brave and the God of battles for security and tranquillity.-Robert Toombs.

[Extract from the farewell address delivered in the United States Senate on January 7, 1861.].

THE SOLDIER'S VOTE.

On what ensan-
Were the polls

Would that I knew, and yet I scarcely dare picture, how and where that soldier vote was cast. guined field, by what historic stream? opened on the rushing Rapidan or by the sullen Chickamauga. Oh, where did the gaunt and ragged Georgians

vote? Was election music or election banners lacking? No. The one was the hiss of the minies and the thudding of the guns; the other the shell-riven fragments of that banner whose story "sung by poets and by sages shall go sounding down through ages." Campaign documents, were they lacking? No, by the thousands they were there. Carefully cherished in jackets of gray. Letters from home they were. They told the story of suffering wives, and starving children, but also they told how the messenger from the Governor had brought bread and clothing to aged parents, to wives and little ones. And that Governor, the soldiers shrewdly knew, had also furnished the threadbare clothes they wore, the thin blankets looped across their broad shoulders, the best he could get, aye the very arms they bore, and thickly fell the votes of Georgia boys for the boy from Gaddistown. Piteous is the story told by that soldier vote-in all only fifteen thousand. One hundred and twenty thousand of her youth and manhood had Georgia given to the red-cross flag. Where were they now? Pallid and suffering prisoners of war. Agonized with wounds and with disease in the crowded wards of dreary hospitals. How many are sleeping in the gloomy shades of the Wilderness, how many under the crumbling ramparts of Vicksburg; what multitudes on the fateful slopes and amid the battle-riven rocks of those heights of Gettysburg, from whose gory summits the high-water mark of the Confederacy-had recoiled the wave red with the blood of heroes. Where'er thou sleepest

"Rest on embalmed and sainted dead!

Dear as the blood ye gave;

No impious footsteps there shall tread
The herbage of your grave.

Nor shall your glory be forgot
While Fame her record keeps,

Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where valor proudly sleeps."

Since first the morning stars sang together, no greater tribute of fidelity to duty, of humanity to suffering, of faithfulness in all things, has come to mortal man than the confidence and love recorded by that immortal remnant, Georgia's soldier vote.-Emory Speer.

AGAINST ACCEPTING THE TERMS OF PEACE PROPOSED AT HAMPTON ROADS.

I do not speak to you with threats, but I do speak to you in frankness. And I tell you, if you, at home, are willing to submit to terms so degrading, the army will not! The soldiers can give up property; they have given it up. They can leave home and wife and children; they have left them. They can endure cold and heat and hunger and nakedness. They have endured all these for four long years. They can climb mountains, wade rivers. make long marches, walk without shoes, sleep without tents, fight without trembling and die without fear. All these things have been done from Texas to Maryland. They can listen to the bursting shells without quaking knees, and watch the flashing guns without blinking eyes. They have heard and seen them in a hundred battles. You can not startle them with the enemy's numbers; they have met that enemy on a hundred fields without a count, save of the slain and captured. They can bury their fallen comrades and still press on. Ah, ten times ten thousand quick-shoveled mounds hide the still clenched teeth and