If the saying, “it is darkest just before day,” has any meaning in it, as applied to the present storm, then we think it must be nearly day—for we must confess the horizon is so dark that not a ray of light can be seen, and this darkness has become more and more intensified for the past two weeks, until it surpasses, in impenetrable gloom, the fabled Egyptian darkness, or the darkness which is said to have accompanied the crucifixion of Christ, and does it not portend the crucifixion of our Government and our liberties? Every electric flash from the South, announces some new and rash act, and these begin to quicken into culminating clouds, as portentitous and frightful as the dark, gloomy and impenetrable vapors that oft have been suspended over Mt. Vesuvius as a signal of destruction to beholders of the dreadful phenomenon.

First we heard of the peaceable secession (on paper) of a State—then another, and another, &c. Then the seizure of forts, arsenals, munitions of war and Government vessels—and even the Government funds—the common property of all. These, together with the lawless and brutal indignities offered to unprotected citizens, whose birth-right vouchsafed to them personal immunities from insults and degredations—these were enough to paralyze the faith of our people in the virtue of law, and the stability of Government, and to chill every hope by a fatal paralysis of disloyalty; but now we learn that not only Government property is seized but reprisals have been made of merchant vessels, the property of individuals, and the next flash may electrify the people with the dreadful, though not unexpected intelligence that blood has been drawn, and that sanguinary war, with all its horrors, has belched forth its sulphorus [sic] fire and smoke to shut out forever the last ray of hope, that this glorious Union may be spared the awful death of that sentence pronounced by fanatical politicians and demagogues. Reader, we arrogate no prophetic inspiration, but it is our firm belief, based on the madness that rules the hour, that we are on the threshhold of one of the most gorey struggles that ever deluged this fair earth with blood. We can see it in the electric flash—we can hear it in every gale that sweeps from the South—we can feel it in the unreasonable demands of the two extreme factions, that for the time rule the two dissevered sections, and in the utter refusal to yield an inch on either side.

This Government is no longer in the hands of the people. Factions, cormorants, and a banditti of unyielding, greedy demagogues have wrested it from the people, and like demons in conclave, are holding high carnival over the prospect of its downfall. True patriots try in vain to soothe the irritations, and to pour oil on the troubled waters. Philanthropists in vain appeal to the suicides to stay their hands. Christianity lifts its pleading voice to the God of nations in one ardent petition, that we and ours may be saved the dreadful shock of National annihilation. Old men, with gray hairs, and young men in the vigorous blood of youth—mothers—daughters—all ages, sexes, and conditions, save the ruthless pirates that bow down to the ephemereal idol of platform, or throw the blood of revenge on their altar of sacrifice—cry out in one voice—spare our country from the threatened desolation.

Civil war is staring us in the face. Its horrors already menace our peace and safety.—The Southern fire-eaters will not yield—the Northern fire-eaters are inexorable. Without a reconciliation, War is inevitable. We have seen that for months. We have warned the people of it. We have preached it to the people through the columns of the Patriot and from the stump—everywhere we could wield our pen or lift our voice, have we sounded the alarm, and in our humble way, endeavored to convince the people that the first attempt to carry out the Republican platform, would be met by resistance—that resistance was secession—secession revolution, and revolution would be nothing milder than a bloody, internecine war, that would enfeeble the people—eat out their substance—paralyze their energies—break up their commerce —ruin their prosperity—and slaughter their fathers and sons. We have urged these things, in the sincerity of our heart, because we believed them; and now, that these fears are taking shape, these warnings are being fulfilled, and the evils predicted are already upon us, it staggers our credulity in human intelligence to see men, either on the street or in the forum, exclaim “there is no danger.”—Before the election, when party interests were at stake, we expected such responses, but now, in the hour of fatal realization, it amounts to one of those idiosancrasies, of which political ambition and personal pride are the parents, and bodes the most fearful consequences.

The Union is in imminent peril. Unless something is done within the next ten days, to satisfy the Border States, this Union, and all its blessings are lost forever. This is no frantic delusion, but is the sum and substanse of reality. The Southern mind is inflamed, and it is a useless waste of time and breath to stop now to enquire whether they are unreasonable or not. The dilemma presents but too horns. We must either take the Crittenden proposition or disunion and war. That proposition covers an area of territory embracing twenty-four slaves, which Mr. Seward says are already slaves for ever, by existing laws. If the Union is dissolved that territory goes with the South, and slavery for ever fastened upon it, by laws and customs that no power this side can control. If the Union remains as it is, slavery is nominally there. The whole question is then a mere abstraction—a theory, with no power to practically change it. Now, we may take the “abstraction” horn—treat that as settled by the 1,800,000 who voted for the Chicago platform for President, and welcome war with all its blighting ravages; or we may take the other horn, and yield that abstraction to the South, and receive peace, amity and prosperity in exchange. Which will you take? Tell us, ye self righteous platform worshippers, which choose ye?

Remember, that if you force the country into a war, by your hair splitting theories, you must expect to fight the battles of your own choice. How many battallions of Wide Awakes can you rely on to penetrate the cane breaks of Mississippi, or the rice swamps of South Carolina, during the approaching dog days, to force your abstraction down the throats of the seceders? How can you expect the power of the Conservative element of the North to assist you, when you utterly refuse to listen to their friendly appeals—beseeching you, in God’s name, to cease splitting hairs with swords, and to yield a little of your stubborn[n]ess for the general good and quiet. If you will do nothing, save to saintify, your “great principle,” and threaten the South with open war, we advise you now to send out recruiting officers, and an army roll, to be filled with valiant Wide Awakes as soon as possible, you will need them soon—very soon. And then, suspend the rules—pass your “war footing” bill, and have it enrolled and signed before midnight—issue bonds for $2,000,000—send out agents to negotiate, and put the interest in your tax roll—pass joint resolutions commiserating the hardships of the people, in the fall of 30 cents a bushel on wheat since the election, and the general paralysis that has overtaken trade and commerce, on account of your “great principle,” then adjourn for six weeks, go home and tell the “dear people” how much you love them, and how well you have fathered their interests, and ask them to give you a carte blanc for another election.