of
Slavery. That is in God's hands. My duty to-day is as clear as the
noonday sun. I can't lose the Border Slave States at this stage of the
game and save the Union--therefore I must hold them at all hazards. Let
the heathen rage and the people imagine vain things if they will----"

"Then it's a waste of breath to talk!" the Senator suddenly shouted.

The rugged head bowed gracefully:

"I thought so from the first--but I've tried to be polite----"

"Good day, sir!"

"Good day, Senator," the President laughed, "come in any time you want
to let off steam. It'll make you feel easier and it won't hurt me."

Abraham Lincoln knew the real cause of public irritation and loss of
confidence. The outburst of wrath over Fremont was but a symptom. The
disease lay deeper. The people had lost confidence in his War Department
through the failure of his first Secretary and the inactivity of the
army under McClellan. He had applied the remedy to the first cause in
the dismissal of Cameron and the appointment of Stanton. It remained to
be seen whether he could control his Commanding General, or whether
McClellan would control the Government.

The situation was an intolerable one--not only to the people who were
sacrificing their blood and money, but to his own inherent sense of
honor and justice. He had no right to organize and drill a mighty army
to go into winter quarters, drink and play cards, and dance while a
victorious foe flaunted their flag within sight of the Capitol.

Besides, the Western division under two obscure Generals, Grant and
Sherman, had moved in force in mid-winter and with a mere handful of men
compared to the hosts encamped in Washington had captured Fort Henry and
Fort Donelson and taken fourteen thousand prisoners. The navy had
brilliantly cooeperated on the river, and this fact only made more
painful the disgrace of the Confederate blockade of the Capital by its
half dozen batteries on the banks of the Potomac.

The President was compelled to test the ugly question of the extent and
power of General McClellan's personal support.

He returned from a tour of inspection and stood on the hilltop
overlooking McClellan's miles of tents and curling camp fires. He turned
to Mrs. Lincoln, who had accompanied him:

"You know what that is?"

"The Army of the Potomac, of course, Father."

"No!" he replied bitterly, "that's only McClellan's body guard--a
hundred and eighty thousand."

The General had persist