find it hard to convince me that
both of these statements can be true."

"Well, are you ready to listen?"

"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are right?
Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are speaking of
crime, not virtue."

"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are speaking; but
in regard to the principles upon which they seem to differ, they are
right, and these are what I wish to speak of."

"Well, I listen, Doctor."

"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power than
General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."

"Agreed."

"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even eternal,
purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the power is
infinite."

"I follow you."

"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it purpose
what it will not execute."

"Please illustrate, Doctor."

"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of making a
world should make a comet."

"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen to be in
a fair way of becoming a world."

"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or failure."

"Yes; I see, or think I do."

"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and slavery a
crime. Two truths cannot clash."

"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery into
existence, and war, also?"

"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules and works
beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns them into means
for advancing His cause."

"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true. But I do
not see how the South can be right."

"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?" asked
Lydia, suddenly.

It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the beach.

"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they see
something that interests them."

Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the wind
blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us were looking
intently through their field-glasses.

"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I return."

We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a glass; he
looked, and came back to us rapidly.

"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a glass," said
he.

"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.

"A