"Miss Lou"

by Edward Payson Roe

"And can you imagine for a moment, sir," cried Mr. Baron, "that we will submit to a government that would be acceptable to New England?" "Yes, sir; and years hence, when the South has become as loyal as New England is now, if that abode of the Yankees should seek independence of the rest of the country she would be brought back under the flag. I would fight New England as readily as I do the South, if she sought to break up the Union. I would fight her if every man, woman and child within her borders believed themselves right."

Now he saw Miss Lou looking perplexed. Her quick mind detected the spirit of coercion, of substituting wills, against which he had been inveighing and from which she had suffered. Mrs. Whately was quick to see the apparent weakness in his argument, for she said, "Consistency is a jewel which I suppose is little cared for by those so ready to appeal to force. With one breath you say we must not coerce the wills of others, and now you say you would, even though you did violence to universal and sacred beliefs."

"I say only that the nation MUST do this as must the individual. Some one might say to me, 'I honestly think I should take off your right arm.' I would not permit it if I could help it. No more can a nation submit passively to dismemberment. The South did not expect that this nation would do so. It promptly prepared for war. If the North had said, 'We can do nothing, there's a blank, write out your terms and we'll sign,' we would have been more thoroughly despised than we were, if that were possible. There are two kinds of coercion. For instance, I do not say to you, Mrs. Whately, representing the South, that you must think and feel as I do and take just such steps as I dictate; but that there are things which you must refrain from doing, because in their performance, no matter how sincere you were, you would inflict great and far-reaching wrong on others. There could be no government without restriction. We would soon have anarchy if any part of a nation should and could withdraw when it chose and how it pleased."

"Your doctrine, sir, would banish freedom from the world. All peoples would have to submit to the central tyranny called government, even though such government had become hateful."

"This doctrine, which all governments act upon," replied Scoville pleasantly, "has not banished freedom from the world. In this country, where every man has a voice, the government will be just about as good as the majority determine it shall be."

"Well, sir, to sum up the whole matter," said Mr. Baron coldly, "two things are clear: First, the South is determined to be free; second, if we fail we can be held only under the heel of your Northern majority as Poland is trodden upon."

Scoville saw that the discussion had gone far enough for his purposes, and he said with a good-natured laugh, "I'm neither a prophet nor his son, but I think it is a very hopeful sign that we could have this frank interchange of views and belief. I see how perfectly sincere you are, and if I had been brought up here no doubt I should think and act as you do. As it is, I am only a very humble representative of the Government which is trying to preserve its own existence—a Government which the South helped to form as truly as the North. If I should come directly to your side, contrary to belief and conscience, you would be the first to despise me. I suppose we will all agree that we should obey the supreme dictates of conscience?"

"No, sir," burst out Mr. Baron, "I cannot agree to anything of the kind. There are multitudes who must be guided and controlled by those who are wiser, older and more experienced. Why, sir, you would have the very nursery children in flat rebellion."

"Indeed, Mr. Baron, I have not said one word against the authority of parents and guardians."

"Ah! I am glad you draw the line somewhere. Half the misery in the world results from young people's thinking themselves wiser than their natural advisers. If they can merely say their consciences are against what their elders know is right and best, we have anarchy in the fountainhead of society—the family," and he glared for a moment at his niece.