People are always quoting Napoleon's saying that men are nothing, a man
is everything, which I never believed before, but which I'm beginning to
believe now."

Then the talk veered away from battle and back to social, literary and
artistic affairs, to all of which Harry and Dalton listened eagerly.
Both had minds that responded to the more delicate things of life,
and they were glad to hear something besides war discussed. It was
hard for them to think that everything was going on as usual in Europe,
that new books and operas and songs were being written, and that men
and women were going about their daily affairs in peace. Yet both were
destined to live to see the case reversed, the people of the States
setting the world an example in moderation and restraint, while the
governments of Europe were deluging that continent with blood.

"If this war should result in our defeat," said Bagby, "we won't get
a fair trial before the world for two or three generations, and maybe
never."

"Why?" asked Dalton.

"Because we're not a writing people. Oh, yes, there's Poe, I know,
the nation's greatest literary genius, but even Europe honored him before
the South did. We've devoted our industry and talents to politics,
oratory and war. We don't write books, and we don't have any newspapers
that amount to much. Why, as sure as I'm sitting here, the moment this
war is over New England and New York and Pennsylvania, particularly New
England, will begin to pour out books, telling how the wicked Southerners
brought on the war, what a cruel and low people we are, the way in which
we taught our boys, when they were strong enough, how to beat slaves to
death, and the whole world will believe them. Maybe the next generation
of Southerners will believe them too."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Why? Why? Because we don't have any writers, and won't have any for a
long time! The writer has not been honored among us. Any fellow with
a roaring voice who can get up on the stump and tell his audience that
they're the bravest and best and smartest people on earth is the man for
them. You know that old story of Andy Jackson. Somebody taunted him
with being an uneducated man, so at the close of his next speech he
thundered out: _E pluribus unum! Multum in parvo! Sic semper tyrannis!_
So it was all over. Old Andy to that audience, and all the others that
heard of it, was the greatest Latin scholar in the world."

"But that may apply to