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for an Unanswerable Argument. Perhaps there are facts modifying my own rebutter. Yes, "and perhaps again.' But the Argument is not Unanswerable.

Another of these precious Impregnable positions is the one so often advanced by my Secession friends in a modified form of What will he do with it? * Sir,' exclaims a secessionist, (it is remarkable, by the way, that secessionists, like all Southerns, are given to what poor Winthrop happily described as wearing black clothes and saying Sir,) 'what do you propose to do with the South, even granting that you can conquer her? Do you expect, Sir, to hold her as a conquered province. And if not what then, Sir ? Just at present this particular Unanswerable is in high favor with the Doughfaces, Compromisers, and all other varieties of that Moral Mulatto animal who flits bat-like between the contending armies of the Birds and Beasts. Suppose we conquer it, what shall we do with our South ?

Before attacking this fresh Unanswerable, let us turn it well over. The fact is, that the War, in all its relations, is as yet far from being understood. It takes longer to learn a war than to learn a language. Nay, to fully comprehend one, it is perhaps necessary to be born in a war and grow up to it. A war does not seriously paralyze manufactures, disorganize exchanges and reverse all the conditions of business when people are familiar with and comprehend it. The great wealthy towns of Europe which flourished along the old line of Oriental trade — Augsburg, Nuremberg, Bruges, Ghent and the rest, grew up in war. The weaver sat sword-girt at his loom, and the Fugger drew his little bill on London as he did his cross-bow on the enemy. They comprehended war.

Let us, then, to understand this war of ours, begin by observing that no people can be said to realize it, who intuitively avoid all consideration of extreme measures of hostility. To win, one must be prepared to go as far at least as the adversary. Moderately if we can, fiercely if we must, is the rule popularly formulised by the exhortation to some dallier of ancient days by the expression, ‘Shoot, Luke, or give up the gun!' Here the South have an advantage over us ; they know their guilt, and knowing dare more than we do. They have consequently had no scruple in adopting extremely severe measures from the beginning. They have struck twelve to begin with. The C. S. A. had scarcely entered on their bastard life ere Jefferson Davis promptly proclaimed the adoption of privateering. Privateering is in reality very nearly an anagram for a synonym. Call it Pirateering, and you have what it amounts to, in reality, since there was never yet a prize privateered in which some injury was not inflicted in some way on neutral parties. We, however, do not endure the sending of vessels to skin' the Southern coast and plunder the seaside plantations. We have not got so far yet as to retaliate. Full retaliation is as yet only a future possibility. Stick a pin there, reader, and remember that from the refusing to abide by the election in which they had taken chances, down to date, the Southrons have in every instance led in aggression, in impropriety, in dishonorable and irritating outrage.

Since long-time, Northern men have been frequently hung, robbed, tarred and feathered, or forcibly enlisted in the South. In a few perfectly authentio instances, women — ladies — have been imprisoned and most infamously treated both by Southern mobs and Southern magistrates, the offence in some cases being that of expressing Union sentiments, but more frequently the mere accident of Northern birth. Here with us secessionists flaunt about in society, act openly as spies, nay, as in Breckinridge's case, utter their insolent treason in Congress, and are paid by us for so doing without the slightest danger. Here also we have not got so far as the genial and fiery Southrons. They are again in this, decidedly ahead. Observe, reader, I find no fault with the North. I simply say that we have all these things as yet off our consciences. We have not swindled the South — millions of Southern dollars now lie in New York banks — we might ‘nip' the foe in a thousand ways, were we as nippingly inclined as he.

Again, how proper has been our conduct as regards the negro ? On this subject the Southern alarm-clock long since struck twelve in its loudest and most portentous tones. I have enjoyed the inestimable advantage of perusing in editorial sanctums a fair share of such Southern journals as have of late reached the North, and can testify that on this subject they have done their utmost to goad their readers to madness. The main object of the whole campaign, they say, is simply to excite black revolt, and urge them to make of the South another San Domingo! Our white troops have, they assert; been stimulated by official assurances of unlimited ravishing and plunder, among the first families, but the negro is to be the great agent in all this hell-work. “Lying,' according to Napoleon I., 'is a power,' and it must be conceded that, from this point of view, our Southern cotemporaries are wonderfully powerful men. They have carried this tremendous and dangerous power to the extreme of extravagance. Now, how is it here in the North ? The United States Government — very properly, of course — is nervously anxious not to offend any body concerned, by indorsing in any way negro emancipation. General Butler is even very generally and popularly praised, because he, with jurisprudent shrewdness, solves the difficulty by pronouncing the negro a contraband. As a contraband, Cuffy is allowed, in very limited numbers, to sweep up the camp, and is 'returned' to any negro-thief from over the border, who chooses to swear a custom-house oath as to the property. Great pains are taken to prevent the contraband from escaping North with Yankee regiments; every thing is done, in fact, to establish a delicate regard for pro-slavery feeling. “Nothing is allowed in this exhibition to offend the feelings of the most fastidious!' So that it is not to be much wondered at, that John Bull, who has heard so much of the d- d Abolitionists, is amazed that since we have the name so thoroughly and completely, we have not the pluck to secure a little of the game. John do n't understand us, of course! Meanwhile, our Christian forbearance is richly rewarded by the most stupendous, overwhelming, crushing and tearing slander, and lies conceivable. That is what we get for it.

So far so good. But the war is a terrible and stupendous truth, which must come to a head. Sooner or later it will get to extremes. It is a great pity, a very great pity, but extremes is the word. I am sorry to say it, but no man who has had his eyes open here among us since the war begun can doubt that the fever of Abolitionism has advanced with tremendous strides since the South has plunged into the headlong career of falsehood, oppression and fury, which characterized her conduct in the war. Our leaders and diplomatists and parlor politicians may proceed as gingerly as they please, but the MULTITUDE are taking a short-cut at the difficulty. We may regret it, but there is no fooling with facts. The crevasse is cracking, deny it or not, just as you please ; but unless the South yields, the days of slavery are numbered. And not such a very long number either!

Now we are coming to the preliminary question: "What shall we do with our South ?' If it refuses to conform to the Constitution, if it will not live amicably with us under the mild and easy bond which is essential to our very existence, why, the war must go on. On, on, on, as far as you please. The most terrible defeat shall not daunt us, and we can bear far more than our fiery foe. There is no Waterloo for a Yankee. But every step as we go on sees all the delicate scruples of which I have spoken vanish ; while at the end of all rises the terrible spectre of complete, unanimous Abolition.

You men of the South, who have yelled, gasped, and howled 'Abolition' for so many years at every fluttering Northern rag, do you know what that wolf will look like when he really comes? You have cried, “Wolf, wolf!' and the dough-faces, ay, and true Northern shepherds, too, have run time and again to help you, and found that it was all daught. God help you when he comes, for you will see him like the wolf Fenris of Northern fable, whose hellflaming jaws are to swallow a world. Keep quiet, there has been no abolitionism as yet. I do not think that even in the Tribune office there is a thorough out-and-out abolitionist; that is to say, one of those intermediate links between a Red Jacobin and the Devil, who would literally San Domingo your whole country with blood and fire. But, gare le loup ! beware the wolf! Put fire to gun-powder and it will explode, though all the holy ones of earth were worshipping about it. And the gun-powder is all here.

An abolitionized North would be a belt of ruin to a slave-holding South, though the latter had ten times its present power. As I said of the war, nobody has as yet learned it in all its fulness. When a man becomes an out-andout abolitionist, he thinks that to free a negro, and if need be kill his master, is to do God service. He becomes a fanatic of the most terrible type. Keep on with your pirate privateering, your intolerable lies, robberies and murders, and you will see these fanatics springing up by millions. You have heard of the late great military rising in the North, of the men who pour in to be enlisted, of the millions subscribed. Let real abolitionism go on at the present rate, and, as the Lord liveth, there will be a rising compared to which this excitement will be as a lucifer match to a powder-mill explosion. For then your last active, fearfully active, foe, will be the last living man of the North.

The not very scrupulous multitude will in time weary of indecisive strife, and begin to look about for means to effectually smash the South. Beware of a man who has a revolver in his hand, while his brain is seeking an argument to let drive at you, for there is great danger that he will speedily find one. When the Abolition revolver begins to spin, look out. There will be little

dread then of what we shall do with you if conquered. A South without negro slaves cannot be imagined as existing. You can be reduced to territories, or whatever we please. There is nothing but the negro in you ; he forms your whole character !

When the North officially recognizes the freedom of the black, the jig will be up. How long will it take for the multitude to be ready for any thing ?

There are not many widows and orphans and brotherless brothers and fathers without sons as yet. Only here and there I hear a sad wail. But wait till they are plenty ; wait till Southern falsehood and cruelty and treason have hung crape on ten thousand doors! God avert that day. But it is not what I wish or what you wish, but the inevitable Must with which we have here to deal.

When the bereaved multitude clamor for the recognition of general emancipation, there will be very little trouble as to What we Shall Do with Our South!


What craft is that whose flaunting sail

We see along the shore,
The rebel ensign at her peak,

The black flag at her fore ?
Say, dare these brigands of the land,

Beard us upon the seas ?
Then, short the shrift and stout the cord

For braggarts such as these !

The flag that waves above the brave,

And wrestles with the blast,
Now falls before a pirate crew,

Dishonored from the mast!
And shall these carrion vultures prey

Upon our native seas ?
No! short the shrift and stout the cord

For braggarts such as these !

No spot on Freedom's sacred soil

Should hold the pirate's tomb;
A nameless grave beneath the wave

Should be the outlaw's doom :
Then hurl them down, unknelled, unwept,

Below the angry seas ;
Short be the shrift and stout the cord

For miscreants such as these !



Not many months ago I was suddenly called for a season to Europe. What I went to see in the transatlantic regions is of no consequence; suffice it to say, that the most noticeable thing that I did see there was the fair sex. Now then, the why that the female tribes so arrested my wayfaring attention, springs - to say nothing of the native seductiveness peculiar to this manner of creation — from the fact, proved abundantly by statistics, that women are more plenteous in the old world than with us, and that the part they play in the round of life is more public. This is an all-overpowering feature to a right American as he sojourns in foreign lands; he never gets over it. Yet, let it here be understood that my 'notes' are of the briefest, crudest sort, as I saw my charmers only on the run.

I landed first in France. Women are decidedly an 'institution among the Gauls; that blessed banner the Petticoat is there always gayly flaunting before your eyes, save when you are asleep. Your observation is first drawn to the crowds of (let the weather be as it will) unbonneted work-women speeding toand-fro through the main town-streets. Many of these wear no head-gear at all beyond their hair, while others tramp, or rather trip along, crowned by a white-frilled cotton cap, much resembling the American female night-cap. All are of noticeably stout forms and ruddy, ripe complexion, with large feet and hands, and strong, white teeth, and oftener than now and then, with something on their upper lip strongly like unto a light moustache. They are generally a jocular and apparently an efficient crew. You cannot call them exactly polite, though from their jocularity their intercourse is marked with something allied to politeness, after all. Their clothing is of course of substantial texture, yet clean in the main, and sits upon them neatly. Their digestion is far too good, for them as a whole to be possessed of large supplies of 'sentiment;' still I have seen individuals among them crying like the most stocking-factory girl in America ; yet it was from real grief, as I swiftly learned, and not from 'disappointed hopes,' or 'want of appreciation.' Naturally they are large feeders, devouring bread in great 'chunks,' and drinking that blood-red vinegar (humorously known among them as wine) by the quart. Sometimes they smoke; but more commonly they snuff. Yet are these practices so managed among them as not to be offensive; but, O Brother Dickens ! ci-devant exhorter to Uncle Sam to repent of sin in general, and of the vice of expectoration in particular, why hast thou not vouchsafed a word touching the latter clause to the fair (not only of low, but also of high degree, if the whole truth must be told) just over the Channel ? Let us dwell on the business no longer : continence, we read, is its own reward. Those women associate with their male mates on terms of

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