believe you to be a brave and skilful soldier,
which, of course, I like. I also believe you do not mix politics
with your profession, in which you are right. You have confidence in
yourself, which is a valuable, if not an indispensable quality. You are
ambitious, which, within reasonable bounds, does good rather than harm;
but I think that during General Burnside's command of the army you have
taken council of your ambition and thwarted him as much as you could,
in which you did a great wrong to the country, and to a most meritorious
and honorable brother officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe
it, of your recently saying that both the army and the Government needed
a dictator. Of course it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I
have given you the command. Only those generals who gain successes can
set up dictators. What I now ask of you is military success, and I will
risk the dictatorship. The government will support you to the utmost of
its ability, which is neither more nor less than it has done and will do
for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit which you have aided
to infuse into the army, of criticising their commander and withholding
confidence from him, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you as far
as I can, to put it down. Neither you nor Napoleon, if he were alive
again, could get any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails in
it. And now, beware of rashness. Beware of rashness, but with energy and
sleepless vigilance go forward and give us victories."

Perhaps no other piece of his writing shows as this does how completely
the genius of the President rose to the full height of his duties and
responsibilities. From beginning to end it speaks the language and
breathes the spirit of the great ruler, secure in popular confidence and
in official authority.

Though so many of the great battles during the first half of the war
were won by the Confederates, military successes came to the North
of course from time to time. With such fine armies and such earnest
generals the tide of battle could not be all one way; and even when
the generals made mistakes, the heroic fighting and endurance of the
soldiers and under-officers gathered honor out of defeat, and shed the
luster of renown over results of barren failure. But it was a weary
time, and the outlook was very dark. The President never despaired. On
the most dismal day of the whole dismal summer of 1862 he sent Secretary
Sewa