Douglas at once called upon the President, and the telegraph carried to his numerous followers throughout the land the news that he had pledged himself “to sustain the President in the exercise of all his constitutional functions to preserve the Union, and maintain the government, and defend the Federal capital.”  By this prompt and generous action he warded off the peril of a divided North.  Douglas is not in quite such good repute with posterity as he deserves to be; his attitude towards slavery was bad, but his attitude towards the country was that of a zealous patriot.  His veins were full of fighting blood, and he was really much more ready to go to war for the Union than were great numbers of Republicans whose names survive in the strong odor of patriotism.  During the presidential campaign he had been speaking out with defiant courage regardless of personal considerations, and in this present juncture he did not hesitate an instant to bring to his successful rival an aid which at the time and under the circumstances was invaluable.

In every town and village there were now mass meetings, ardent speeches, patriotic resolutions, a confusing stir and tumult of words that would become deeds as fast as definite plans could furnish opportunity.  The difficulty lay in utilizing this abundant, this exuberant zeal.  Historians say rhetorically that the North sprang to arms; and it really would have done so if there had been any arms to spring to; but muskets were scarce, and that there were any at all was chiefly due to the fact that antiquated and unserviceable weapons had been allowed to accumulate undestroyed.  Moreover, no one knew even the manual of arms; and there were no uniforms, or accoutrements, or camp equipment of any sort.  There was, however, the will which makes the way.  Simultaneously with the story of Sumter came also the President’s proclamation of April 15.  He called for seventy-five thousand volunteers to serve for three months,—­an insignificant body of men, as it now seems, and a period of time not sufficient to change them from civilians into soldiers.  Yet for the work immediately visible the demand seemed adequate.  Moreover, as the law stood, a much longer term could not have been named,[133] and an apparently disproportionate requisition in point of numbers might have been of injurious effect; for nearly every one was cheerfully saying that the war would be no such very great affair after all.  In his own mind the President may or may not have forecast the future more accurately than most others were doing; but his idea plainly was to ask no more than was necessary for the visible occasion.  He stated that the troops would be used to “repossess the forts, places, and property which had been seized from the Union,” and that great care would be taken not to disturb peaceful citizens.  Amid all the prophesying and theorizing, and the fanciful comparisons of the respective fighting qualities of the Northern and Southern populations, a sensible