"It would ruin the entire industry of the South.

I tell you Lincoln is thinking of his own political advancement and caring nothing for this country.

The South _must_ secede, gentlemen--if you will allow me as a stranger to venture an opinion." My mother turned her gaze to him, but it was Sheraton who spoke.
"It goes back to the old Articles of Federation, our first compact," he said.

"From the very first the makers of this country saw that by reason of diverse industries the South was separated from the North.

This secession has been written in the sky from the beginning of the world." "Nay, brother Sheraton," broke in my mother eagerly "it was the union of brothership that was written first in the sky." He turned to her with the bow of a gentleman.