Miss Delano regarded Clara as if astonished at opinions in a young lady. The old gentleman was evidently struck, for he deigned to reply to her directly. “Yet the fair hands of your sex, Miss Forest, even to-day, are engaged buckling on the armor of their male friends.” “I am sorry, sir, that this is true.” “Your daughter seems to have opinions”—said Miss Delano to Mrs. Forest, with whom she had been keeping up a separate conversation—“not common to young ladies of her age.” This was really intended as a compliment, but was not taken as such at the time. “I hope I am not unpatriotic,” said Clara, looking straight at Miss Delano with a frank, sweet expression. “I love my country; but I love other countries also, and I have been taught to look upon the human race as one, and not simply to confine my sympathies to the place where I happened to be born. It seems to me clearly a duty to cultivate this feeling of unity.” “These sentiments do you honor,” replied Mr. Delano, anxious to draw out this girl, who was not like any he had ever met; “but it seems to me singular that you should have arrived at such conclusions at your time of life.” “It ought not to be singular, I think. I have heard the doctrines of peace and the brotherhood of man presented by my father ever since I can remember. It is perfectly impossible for me to see anything in military glory worthy of admiration. To me, any honest laboring man is more noble than the military hero, and I consider the sword a badge of disgrace. If I were a man, I should be so ashamed to be seen with such a thing at my side! Think what it suggests!” said Clara, with disgust in every feature of her beautiful face. “It is true, father,” said the son, “that this spirit in women would soon put an end to war. We should hardly fight, if we thereby made ourselves despicable in the eyes of those we love.” “But this spirit among women, my son, would make cowards of us all.” “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.”