I would deem it very unwise at this time, or for years to come, to revive the State governments of Louisiana, etc., or to institute in this quarter any civil government in which the local people have much to say.  They had a government so mild and paternal that they gradually forgot they had any at all, save what they themselves controlled; they asserted an absolute right to seize public moneys, forts, arms, and even to shut up the natural avenues of travel and commerce.  They chose war—­they ignored and denied all the obligations of the solemn contract of government and appealed to force.

We accepted the issue, and now they begin to realize that war is a two-edged sword, and it may be that many of the inhabitants cry for peace.  I know them well, and the very impulses of their nature; and to deal with the inhabitants of that part of the South which borders on the great river, we must recognize the classes into which they have divided themselves: 

First.  The large planters, owning lands, slaves, and all kinds of personal property.  These are, on the whole, the ruling class.  They are educated, wealthy, and easily approached.  In some districts they are bitter as gall, and have given up slaves, plantations, and all, serving in the armies of the Confederacy; whereas, in others, they are conservative.  None dare admit a friendship for us, though they say freely that they were at the outset opposed to war and disunion.  I know we can manage this class, but only by action.  Argument is exhausted, and words have lost their usual meaning.  Nothing but the logic of events touches their understanding; but, of late, this has worked a wonderful change.  If our country were like Europe, crowded with people, I would say it would be easier to replace this class than to reconstruct it, subordinate to the policy of the nation; but, as this is not the case, it is better to allow the planters, with individual exceptions, gradually to recover their plantations, to hire any species of labor, and to adapt themselves to the new order of things.  Still, their friendship and assistance to reconstruct order out of the present ruin cannot be depended on.  They watch the operations of our armies, and hope still for a Southern Confederacy that will restore to them the slaves and privileges which they feel are otherwise lost forever.  In my judgment, we have two more battles to win before we should even bother our minds with the idea of restoring civil order—­viz., one near Meridian, in November, and one near Shreveport, in February and March next, when Red River is navigable by our gunboats.  When these are done, then, and not until then, will the planters of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mississippi, submit.  Slavery is already gone, and, to cultivate the land, negro or other labor must be hired.  This, of itself, is a vast revolution, and time must be afforded to allow men to adjust their minds and habits to this new order of things.  A civil government of the representative type would suit this class far less than a pure military role, readily adapting itself to actual occurrences, and able to enforce its laws and orders promptly and emphatically.