THE REASON FOR SECESSION.
SOME of our friends abroad are amazingly puzzled to know the cause of this revolution now upon us. A few words will serve to show how the matter stands. When the sun arose on the sixth of November last, it shone upon thirty-three States in union, containing a population of 30,000,000, the most happy and prosperous people on the face of the earth. According to the constitutional requirements, the people of every State (save one) came together, and cast their votes for a chief magistrate. The result showed that Abraham Lincoln was legally chosen President for four years. No one disputed the legality of his election; but thousands in this city and elsewhere regretted it. The people of this city voted against him strong. This we had a right to do; but not one of our respectable citizens regarded his election as a just cause of revolution. Even Mr. Stephens, now vice-president of the confederate States, declared that it was no good cause. South Carolina thought she had a cause, and speedily, without waiting for any overt act—indeed, long before the inauguration of Mr. Lincoln took place—met in convention and voted herself out of the Union. Public confidence began to be disturbed and a speedy downfall of business followed. The other cotton States tied themselves to the tail of South Carolina, and acts of seizure and violence of the most disgraceful character were sanctioned by the State authorities; and even our federal government allowed itself to be driven out of Charleston harbor by the booming of its own cannon in the hands of the State authorities. The insult was borne with patience—insult was added to injury—until "forbearance ceased to be a virtue." The South having lost an election which they went into, and imagining some great wrong, commenced to defy the government which had never injured them in the slightest degree, when, lo and behold, civil war is upon us! because we refuse longer to be kicked and cuffed about by them, and are not willing to give up all our forts, and even the federal capital itself, from which they seceded. Jefferson Davis, who has been plotting the overthrow of the government for years, would be perfectly satisfied if we would give up everything, and submit to the degradation of allowing the President of the United States to set up his government on a drum-head. The North cannot, and will not submit to this; and those who have done most, and worked hardest for the South, are first and foremost in arming for the war. In the sixth ward, of this city, where Jefferson Davis has had thousands of friends, a powerful regiment is formed, and now, while we write, are on their way to resist his further encroachments upon the rights of the North. We are no politicians, and have never said or done aught against our Southern brethren. We wish them no harm, and we kindly ask them to pause and think the matter over coolly and calmly, without passion and without prejudice. We war not against them for the sake of blood; but we war against them for the maintenance of the best government that ever existed—for the time-honored flag of our country—a flag that was loved by Washington, Madison, Jackson, Clay, Webster, and every other true patriot in the land, as the "gorgeous ensign of the Republic." The entire North is aroused, and should it cost her a hundred thousand human lives, and a hundred millions of dollars, the government will be sustained. The struggle will doubtless be one of the most gigantic and terrific that the world has ever seen. Both sides are amply provided with implements of destruction, they are each composed of millions of brave men, and they are bent upon their opposite purposes with the deepest and most determined earnestness. The great drama is already commenced, and its thrilling scenes, with their noble self-sacrifice, sublime daring, heroic achievements and grim horrors, are passing in swift succession before us.—Scientific American.