the South is fighting for slavery only,
whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is fighting for
self-government."

"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is fighting for
slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. But when we say
'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we mean. There are two
Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and their slaves; the other
is the common people. There never was a greater absurdity taught than
that which Northern writers and newspapers have spread to the effect
that in the South there is no middle class. The middle class _is_ the
South. This is the South that is right and wholesome and strong. The
North may defeat the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat
it; but never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of truth if
not the fulness of it.

"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in her
present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also the North
is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.

"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will go
down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, the North
will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not do it. The
Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and undeveloped, must
prevail instead of the Southern idea of individual freedom; but how
prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that war in which ideas prevail is
note fought with force. Artillery accomplishes naught. I can fancy a
battlefield where two great armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on
this side and on that side are uniformed alike and their flags are
alike, but they kill each other till none remains, and nothing is
accomplished except destruction; yet the principle for which each fought
remains, though all are dead."

For a time I was speechless.

At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and flags
alike?"

He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their cause,
and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."

"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.

IX

KILLING TIME

"Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.

Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent
with her father.

Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my
o