ter of the game. He was
terribly beaten--an aggressive general would have attacked at once."

"Would he have won, uncle?"

"I think so--but after a defeat these armies are as dangerous as a
cornered cat."

"But, dear Uncle Jim, what is the matter with us?--We have men, money and
courage."

"Well, this is how I see it. Neither side has a broad-minded General in
command of the whole field of war. Every day sees bits of fights,
skirmishes, useless loss of life. There is on neither side any connected
scheme of war. God knows how it will end. I do not yet see the man. If
Robert Lee were in absolute command of all the effective force of the
South, we would have trouble."

"But if he is so good a soldier, why did he make what you call a frontal
attack on entrenched troops at Malvern?"

"My dear, when two men spar and neither can quite end the fight, one
gets angry or over-confident and loses his head, then he does something
wild--and pays for it."

"I see. You leave on Monday?"

"Yes--early."

"Mr. Rivers means to talk after service to the men who are enlisting."

"So he told me. I begged him to be moderate."

"He asked me for a text, uncle."

"Well!"

"I gave him the one about Caesar and God."

"What put that into your head--it does not seem suitable?"

"Oh, do you think so? Some one once mentioned it to me. I could preach on
it myself, but texts grow wonderfully in his hands. They glow--oh, they
get halos about them. He ought to be in a great city."

"Oh, my dear, Mark Rivers has his limitations like all of us. He would
die. Even here he has to be watched. McGregor told him last year that he
was suffering from the contagion of other people's wickedness with
occasional acute fits of over-conscientiousness. Rivers said it was
incomprehensible nonsense; he was almost angry."

"And yet it is true, Uncle Jim."

"I'm glad I haven't the disease. I told McGregor as much. By George! he
said my variety of the disorder was about other folk's stupidity. Then,
when I said that I didn't understand him, he laughed. He makes me furious
when he only laughs and won't answer--and won't explain."

"Why, uncle! I love to see him laugh. He laughs all over--he shakes. I
told him it was a mirthquake. That set him off again. Was Tom McGregor
badly hurt?"

"No, not badly."

"Will aunt go to church to-morrow?"

"No."

"I thought she would not. I should love to see you in uniform."

"Not here, my dear, but I will send y