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now. The intellect of the nation is aroused in the presence of 

 this immense issue. It is an educational epoch. Its perils, trials, 

 sacrifices, are the school-discipline of God. The mind of the peo- 

 ple grows up whole cubits of stature in a short time. The heart 

 of the people is moved to its deepest depths, — of all classes, but 

 most of the most numerous and the governing class, the agricul- 

 tural. And the heart is always the head's best ally. Deep feel- 

 ing begets strong thinking. Sentiments of patriotism and loyalty, 

 newborn and fervid, awaken and reinforce the intellect, raise up 

 character, enlarge the whole man. 



In the summer of last year, when the recruiting for the volun- 

 teer regiments was in progress, spending some weeks in one of 

 our interior counties, I had occasion to attend meetings, — town 

 meetings, mass meetings — in several small farming towns, — meet- 

 ings called for promoting enhstments. The fires of patriotic 

 ardor had reached them, and were all ablaze. The people, nearly 

 all farmers, had risen up into sympathy with the grandeurs of the 

 time. And there was no faltering or halting in the determina- 

 tion to meet the crisis like men. The cowardly and half-hearted, 

 the disloyal, the fault-finding, the abettors of treason, the advo- 

 cates of base surrender, and of that peace-at-any-price, which is 

 but the inauguration of eternal strife, — men more anxious to save 

 a party than to save their country, — and so could make a mock 

 of that country's perils and distresses, — such men, if such there 

 are in such communities, and I think there are fewer of them there 

 than almost any where else, were not present at those meetings, 

 or, if present, they slunk away into corners, sullen and silent, un- 

 heeded and alone. But the sacred demands of the time found 

 abundant voice. 



Men all unused to public speech, more accustomed to address 

 their flocks and herds, than assemblies of men, had their tongues 

 loosed, as by the forked flames of a new Pentecost, and spoke 

 with a sublime and touching eloquence, although they knew it not 

 for eloquence, because of its simplicity. Hands, hard and stifi" 

 from the plow and scythe, and looking little fit for such an office, 

 were stretched out in effective appeal. They told the story of the 

 fathers, what they did and suffered in the Revolution. They 

 spoke of the immeasurable value of the Union, the Government, 



