“That, I think, is a great mistake,” said Dr. Forest. “It might in time make us forget how to use the sword and the bayonet dexterously—a ‘consummation devoutly to be wished,’ in my opinion; but, good Heaven! sir, is the courage and manliness of men to be measured by their skill in killing each other, as the valor of the savage by the number of scalps he can show? He can brave death, if that be the test, in nobler ways than at the hands of some mad, misguided brother.”
“Yet, in all examination of such questions, we must not forget that human passions remain the same. In all ages mankind has shown a decided tendency towards conquest.”
“Certainly,” replied the doctor, “human passions remain the same: that is, no new faculties are created, and none destroyed; but their relative activity differs with degrees and stages of development. You and I have the same faculties that in the Apache express themselves in pow-wow-ing and scalping, yet we neither pow-wow nor scalp: we have outgrown that kind of gratification for the passion, but we still express it in fighting. The time will come when we shall have outgrown that kind of expression as well. The desire to triumph over obstacles, to succeed, as well as the passion for organizing great enterprises, will always find ample avenues of expression and gratification.” The doctor paused, fearing to monopolize the conversation.
“I should much like to hear your views as to the way those passions can be gratified,” said Mr. Delano.
“In many ways,” replied the doctor. “Suppose, instead of going into the South to subdue and kill our fellow-men, we had organized our vast army for the purpose of draining and reclaiming the Dismal Swamp. That would have been a noble work. Where now that miserable tract is exhaling poisonous vapors, it might be to-day yielding fruits and grains to feed the children starving in our cities.”
“Why, this is constructive radicalism!” said Mr. Delano. “But while our army were reclaiming the Dismal Swamp, the Southern army would have been marching into our Northern towns and laying them waste!”
“No; I think,” said Miss Delano, “they would have been astounded into very good humor, and would have at once set about adjusting our quarrel amicably.”
“It is difficult to say,” said the doctor, “how our Southern citizens would have taken the invasion of a nonfighting army. The slavery system is a fearful drag upon the growth of the higher faculties. If we had gone down there to build them railroads and school-houses, they might have considered it very patronizing on our part. Slavery made white men despise labor; so they would not have felt like joining in, perhaps, like good fellows, though they were ‘spoiling’ for action, and their chivalry, as they called it, dreamed only of military glory, as the sole gentlemanly expression of their bottled-up forces. If they had respected labor, they would have met us right fraternally; but then, if they had understood the dignity of labor, slavery would have never been, and consequently our civil war would have been avoided; so our speculation is useless.”
“It is very interesting, at all events,” said Dr. Delano. “I confess that the idea of a grand army to drain the Dismal Swamp inspires me. I would join such an expedition with enthusiasm.”
Miss Delano suggested that such an army need not become demoralized for the want of woman’s influence, because they could take women along with them; and Clara drew a glowing picture of camp-life under such conditions, with music and fancy-dress balls to inspire the workers after the day’s labor, which, with an army of fifty thousand or more perfectly organized, need not become drudgery, for each division could be constantly relieved after three or four hours, which would constitute a day’s work. “And then when all was over,” Clara continued, “when all the glory was gained, you would have, in place of murders on your conscience, the satisfaction of having created only pleasure, and benefited all coming generations.”