No cause for Despondency.
While Paul Jones, in the wretched old hulk of an indiaman an hundred years old, (the Bon Homme Richard,) was engaged in his desperate conflict with the Serapais, a new English frigate of the first-class, just out of port — after a single broadside had riddled her so completely that he was compelled to lash her to the Englishman to avoid sinking — when nearly all his guns had bursted, and half his crew, had fallen — a momentary cessation of firing induced his adversary to hail him and inquire whether he had struck. "We have not yet begun to fight," was the laconic and pithy reply, and after two hours more of mortal combat, he had the proud satisfaction of walking the Englishman's deck, a victor under circumstances so desperate that at one time there appeared no chance of escape. Such is the reward of valor when allied to constancy and directed by an indomitable willLincoln, Seward, Halleck, and the whole Yankee press, are hugging themselves in the delusion that they already see the end of the war, and that that end is, to us, the death of our liberty, and the beginning of an interminable servitude. To their taunts and sneers we reply, in the defiant language of Paul Jones, "We have not yet began to fight." --They think they have seen pitched fields, but the shortest of those they have seen are, to those which must come, but as the freshness of an April morning to the fiery breath of the dog days — but as the snow upon the side of Hecla, to the whirling gulf of flame within — but as December to June — but as an ice-house to a furnace heated an hundred fold. This people has never yet put forth its strength to half its extent, furious as has been the war in which it has been engaged, mighty as have been its struggles, glorious as have been its victories subparallel as has been the result. What we have done is scarcely a type of what we can do. The present situation, far from being desperate, is only trying enough to induce new energy in the contest, to call for new exertions and new sacrifices, to remind our people of the nature of the conflict, and the object of the enemy, to bring out our whole strength, and to let the world see of what we are capable. While the Yankees think they have subjugated us by taking Vicksburg, we repeat, in the language of Paul Jones, "We have not begun to fight."
Such is the spirit of our people, such the resources of our countrymen in their own determined will, such the obstacles which the enemy will have to overcome, before he can ever subdue us. We have lost Vicksburg and Port Hudson. What of that? Suppose we lose Charleston, Savannah, Mobile, Wilmington — all our seaports. What of that, we ask again?
‘ "What though the field be lost?
All is not lost!
The unconquerable will.
And study of revenge immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
All these remain."
’
These we would still have, though everything material were gone.
But we are reduced to no such straits. On the contrary, we speak the solemn truth when we declare that in our opinion our situation although it is one which calls for the utmost exertion, so far from being desperate is not even gloomy. The enemy has taken Vicksburg and Port Hudson. Does he open the navigation of the river thereby? Not at all, as we showed the other day, and we think showed satisfactorily. On the other hand, he weakens himself, by the garrisons he is obliged to put in those places, and he strengthens our armies by returning the garrisons which have been so long shut up there. He would do the same thing by taking Charleston, Savannah, and Mobile. Having no longer any detached ports to defend, our army could then complete the policy of concentration which, but partially pursued, has already been attended with such memorable results.--Retiring to the interior as he advances, we shall weaken him and strengthen ourselves with every step that he takes in leaving his base of operations. We have made our calculations long ago that all the towns within reach of the enemy's navy would fall, and giving them, for the sake of argument, up to him, we conceive that we are more able to beat him without them than with them. Let it not be forgotten, in the meantime, that we have a powerful army — an army that has never been beaten — with a General at its head who may rank with the most renowned leaders of whom history makes mention. Let the despondent think on these facts and tell us what there is gloomy in our situation. For our part, we see nothing whatever. We may be called on to destroy more cotton and tobacco, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy; but, in our opinion, this would not be the worst thing the Government could do, even of its own free will. It would recall the minds of thousands from the pursuit of wealth to the defence of their country, and that would be a positive gain.
