"Well - yes," said Mr Dinwiddie. "She has been among Northern friends a good while; perhaps she can judge better of their tone and temper than I can, - or you, sir."
"I cannot hold just the view that you do, Mr. Dinwiddie, - or that papa does."
"So I supposed. You think there are some good soldiers in the
Northern army."
"It would be absurd to suppose there are not," said my father; "but what they do want, is a right understanding of the spirit of the South. It is more persistent and obstinate, as well as strong, than the North takes any account of. It will not yield. It will do and endure anything first."
I thought I had heard papa intimate a doubt on that issue; however I said nothing.
"If spirit would save a people," Mr. Dinwiddie rejoined, "those walls over against us would not bear the testimony they do. No people ever fought with more spirit than this people. Yet Jerusalem is a heap of ruins."
"You do not mean that such a fate can overtake the whole
South?" said my father.
"I mean, that the race is not always to the swift. The South have right on their side, however."
"Right?" said I.
"I thought that would bring you out," Mr. Dinwiddie said, with a kindly look at me.