peace of the fields where the dead sleep; and on the Lido where green meadows were sprinkled with daisies and birds were singing. More wonderful were the nights, coming home, when the gold had faded from sea and sky, the palaces and towers of Venice rose low on the horizon as in a city of dreams, the Lagoon was turned by the moon into a sheet of silver, lights like great fireflies stole over the water, ghostly gondolas glided past, then we were

the real lotus-eaters drifting to the only lotus-land where all things have rest.

The fussy little steamboat, I found, could rock ambition to sleep as well as a gondola, and life seemed to offer nothing better than an endless succession

of days and nights spent on its deck, bound for wherever it might bear us. But only the Venetian has the secret of doing nothing with nothing to do it on, and if J. and I were to hope for figs with our bread, or even for bread by itself, we had to move on to the next place where work awaited us. And so the last of our nights in Venice came, before spring had ripened into summer, and the last of our mornings when porters again scrambled for our bags, and there were again yells; but this time of 'Partenza!' and 'Pranta!' and the train hurried us away from the Panada and the Orientale and the Lagoon to a world where no lotus grows and life is all labor.

I

AND now, as Lee sits there by the roadside with those two earthy, incarnated spirits frustrated, we find the reason why nothing Longstreet can say assuages his troubled mind; and why the idea of surrender is so galling.

Inasmuch as these spirits were not frustrated by Grant, but primarily and inexorably by our country's destiny, in this lies the significance of Lee's fortune. Oh Fate! you never drew a harder lot than that you drew for him. For he did not believe in Slavery at all; in fact, to him it was repulsive, and an

institution antagonistic to the South's ultimate political weal; yet you put him at the head of the last struggle between Slavery and Freedom in this world!

This speculation as to the temperamental and ingrained qualities of Lee may be wide of the mark; but I think not; for, as sure as we live, such lofty pride and burning enthusiasm are what we have a right to expect when the sterling in human character rings true. This, at least, we know indisputably, that the one thing he dreaded, and was ready to lay his life down rather than submit to, was humiliation; and let us

be thankful that a place has been provided in human breasts for that kind of pride, a pride which rebels at abasement and what is almost as intolerable patronizing, sniffing condescension, come from whomsoever, or how, it may. And while you and I, Reader, may not even dream of putting ourselves in the company of the great, yet, in so far as we have that virtue and show it when we should, we claim, with uncovered heads in their presence, a common brotherhood.

And now, before the narrative journeys on, one final word as to Lee. Had the war ended favorably for the South, he would inevitably have been called upon and forced to head a government which, however victorious, in the very nature of things could not have enjoyed peace. For so long as Slavery existed, it would have had its implacable enemies; and sooner or later, torn by internal dissensions, the Border States would, one after another, on account of commercial advantages, have deserted the Confederacy; and it is a question whether Lee's fame, military and political, would not have been left a sad wreck. But be this as it may, the failure of the Confederacy broke the heartstrings of thousands of high-minded Southerners, and I believe that it broke Lee's very heart itself, and the wonder is that death did not come sooner.

Conversation between Longstreet and Lee as to Grant's prospective terms continued in broken sentences till Babcock was seen approaching, and then, as Lee still seemed apprehensive of humiliating demands, Longstreet suggested to him that in that event he should break off the interview and tell Grant to do his worst. The thought of another round seemed to brace him, and he rode with Colonel Marshall to meet the Union commander. So closes Longstreet's account of that incident.

Lee directed Marshall to find a suitable house for the conference, and he chose McLean's, the best in the town, a brick building with elms and locusts about it, and rose-bushes blooming on the lawn. With a cool, inviting veranda, it stood facing west, the last in the village.

Marshall sent his orderly back to notify Lee, and he and Babcock soon were seated in the parlor, the left-hand room as you enter the hall. Meanwhile, Traveller's humane groom removed his bit, and he began to nip the fresh springing grass in the dooryard, while Babcock's orderly sat mounted out in the road, to notify Grant on his arrival. Ord, Sheridan, Custer, Griffin, and with him my friend Merrill, and their staffs, were up the road, only a few hundred yards away, and in full view.

Grant, after dispatching Babcock, mounted at once and followed the Walker's Church Road till he came to the La Grange Road. This he took to the left, and then struck down across Plain Run to the Lynchburg Road. As he passed the left of the First New York Dragoons, some one shouted, "There comes General Grant.'

He rode directly to Sheridan's group, saying as he drew rein, 'How are you, Sheridan?'

'First-rate, thank you, how are you?' replied Sheridan, with an expressive smile; and then he told Grant what had happened, and that he believed it was all a ruse on the part of the Confederates to get away.

But Grant answered that he had no doubt of the good faith of Lee, and asked where he was.

'In that brick house,' responded Sheridan.

'Well, then, we'll go over,' said Grant; and asked them all to go along with him.

This must have been about one o'clock, for Lyman says that 'at 2:20

Colonel Kellogg, Sheridan's chief commissary, accompanied by a member of Lee's staff, brought a note from Grant to Meade to suspend hostilities.'

Cincinnati, sired by the King of the Turf, Lexington, with his delicate ears, high and thoroughbred port, led the way, and at his side was Rienzi, carrying Sheridan. For some reason or other, perhaps because as a boy I played with the colts on the old home farm, those horses, from the day I saw Grant on Cincinnati and Sheridan on Rienzi in the Wilderness, have seemed like acquaintances to me; and now it pleases my fancy to put them with Traveller in a pasture, far, far beyond the reach of thundering guns or lamenting bugles, - a pasture that remains eternally green.

As Grant mounted the steps and entered the hall, Babcock, who had seen his approach, opened the door. Sheridan, Ord, and the other officers remained outside and took seats on two benches, one on either side of the door, and the steps of the veranda.

Grant, about five feet eight inches tall, his square shoulders inclined to stoop, was without a sword, wore a soldier's dark-blue flannel blouse, displaying a waistcoat of like material, and ordinary top-boots with trousers inside. Boots and clothing were spattered with mud, and, in his memoirs, with his usual unstudied frankness, he says, 'In my rough traveling suit, the uniform of a private, with the straps of a lieutenant-general [bullion-bordered rectangles, holding on their ground of black velvet one large and two smaller stars], I must have contrasted strangely with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high, and of faultless form. But this was not a matter that I thought of until afterwards.'

Never was a great man less self-conscious than he, though, as I have observed elsewhere, while at the head of

the Army of the Potomac, he maintained his dignity day in and day out, without charging the air of his headquarters with the usual pompous military fuss. This I know from experience, and although I was a mere boy, had he shown any affectations I believe I should have noticed them.

The kind and cut of his beard, deepbrown in shade, the way his hair lay, and the outline of his face, are familiar; but his eyes, so charitably direct, and his voice, so softly vibrant, veracious and sweet, must have been seen and heard to be duly appreciated. Under the depths of his quiet and modest reserve, lay a persistent and intense doggedness of purpose, as prompt and unconquerable as Lee's pride and burning enthusiasm. And thus strangely balanced, stood those types and creations of American society of their generation, facing each other.

'Grant greeted Lee very civilly,' says Marshall; and I have no doubt that he and his superb kinsman and chief at once felt the charm of that gentle, inflexible composure which every crowned head of the world, who afterward met him, felt and remarked upon.

Lee said to Grant, with his customary urbanity, that he remembered him well in the old army; to which Grant, with his usual modesty, replied that he remembered him perfectly, but thought it unlikely that he had attracted Lee's attention sufficiently to be remembered after such a long interval.

Lee soon found himself in a stream of pleasant reminiscence with Grant about the Mexican War; and it could not have been otherwise, for there was something so quietly companionable in Grant's manner that every one whom he met informally and socially always joined him in his unpremeditated talk. And I think I can see Lee's brown, vigilant eyes kindle with inquisitive wonder as, in the course of their con

versation, they fell on him. The same wonder had been in Meade's and every old officer's eyes, save Sherman's, since Grant's star broke through its dark eclipse. Here stood the man whose marvelous career had started wave after wave of camp-gossip in both armies, -the hero of Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga, now about to receive the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, and leave a name shining unchallenged and unclouded at the climax of the war; and yet, in the full glow of this impending fame, mild, unconscious of self, and unpretentious.

It was Lee who finally had to remind Grant of the object of their meeting and suggest that he put his terms in writing, another proof of Grant's inherent delicacy, which made him reluctant to broach a painful subject.

Grant asked for his manifold orderbook and, on receiving it, took a seat at the little centre-table and rapidly, with only a single momentary pause, wrote his terms. He says that when he put his pen to its task, he did not know the first word he should make use of in writing. The terms were as follows:

APPOMATTOX Cт. H., VA., April 9, 1865. GENERAL R. E. LEE,

Commanding C. S. A.

GENERAL: In accordance with the substance of my letter to you of the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia on the following terms, to wit: Rolls of all the officers and men to be made in duplicate, one copy to be given to an officer to be designated by me, the other to be retained by such officer or officers as you may designate. The officers to give their individual paroles not to take up arms against the Government of the United States until properly [exchanged], and each company or regimental commander to sign a like parole for the men of their com

mands. The arms, artillery, and public property to be parked and stacked, and turned over to the officers appointed by me to receive them. This will not embrace the side-arms of the officers nor their private horses or baggage. This done, each officer and man will be allowed to return to his home, not to be disturbed by the United States authorities so long as they observe their paroles, and the laws in force where they may reside.

Very respectfully,

U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General.

When he came to the end of the sentence closing with 'appointed by me to receive them,' he raised his eyes, and they fell on Lee's lion-headed, stately sword, and then he wrote, "This will not embrace the side-arms of the officers nor their private horses.' Grant probably thought of Traveller, and the pang it would give him to part with Cincinnati were he in Lee's place.

It is needless for me to point out the significance of the last sentence, binding as it did the passions, and pledging the honor, of his country. In short, it meant that there should be no judicial bloodshed, no gibbets, and no mourning exiles. These terms, in the light of all that might have happened after the assassination of Mr. Lincoln, which took place within five days of the surrender, lent elevation, repose, and dignity to humanity, and, I have no doubt, the eyes of the country's guardian angel welled with tears of joy.

Grant finishes the terms, rises, goes to Lee and hands him the open orderbook. Remaining seated, Lee lays it on the table beside him and with deliberation takes out his spectacles and adjusts them. Slowly and carefully he reads line after line. All eyes are on Lee. A hush, silent as death, prevails. And lo! a storm-beaten figure is at the door, haggard and in ravaged gar

ments. It is easy to read in her face that it was once the playground of passion; it is easy to see the ashes of burned-out hopes in those blood-shot but once soaring eyes; and it is easy to see, too, where care has ploughed deeply her once rose-blooming cheeks. With lean hand and long, trembling finger, her eyes flashing the urgency of immmediate compliance, she beckons imperatively across the room to Destiny. With his still and inevitably onward step he makes his way toward her. Clutching him close, she whispers in quick, feverish breath, 'What paper is that he is reading?'

'Who are you?' Destiny asks, fixing his cold gray eyes on her.

'I am the Spirit of Four Years Ago. It was I who made their capitals ring as state after state left the Union, I who fired the first shot at Sumter. It was I who beat the Long Roll at every crossroad and before every door of the Southland. Awake, awake! Come back, come back, oh, drum-throbbing days! But what paper is that he is reading? I am persuaded there must be something dire in it, for I hear the bell in my breast sounding a knell.'

"Those are Grant's terms for the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia.'

'Stop him! stop him!' screamed the spirit wildly.

Destiny shook his head; she staggered backward, death rattled in her throat. But, as she was about to fall, Charity put her kindly arms about her and then, stroking her tired brow, led her away.

Barely have they cleared the door when another figure appears, gaunt, blood-stained, reeking of the lair, with inveterate malice in his hard, hard face. He needs no Plutonic herald to proclaim him Revenge. But see that darkening frown on the noble countenance of Magnanimity as he ap

proaches the newcomer and asks in subdued tones, loaded with reproach, 'What are you doing here?'

'What does Grant mean,' growled the figure, 'by giving such terms to these God-damned rebels!'

'Rebels, God-damned rebels!' exclaimed Magnanimity; 'why, they are kith and kin! sons of Washington, Jefferson, Marshall, Madison, and Pinckney! Oh, you miscreant!'

He seized Revenge and flung him far; and great Nature approvingly allowed his crunching bones to break her silence as he fell on the jagged cliffs of Hate. Courage and Manliness greeted their brother proudly as he reëntered the door, and Mercy, 'the sweetest virtue ever ascribed to God or man,' walked up to him and, lifting her smiling face, put her hand in his.

When Lee came to the end he raised his eyes, looked at Grant, and remarked, "This will have a very happy effect upon my army.'

Grant then said he would have the terms copied in ink, unless he had some suggestions to make. Lee replied, one only, that the cavalry and artillerymen owned their own horses, and he would like to understand whether or not they would be allowed to retain them. Grant told him the terms as written would not allow of this, but, as he thought this was about the last of the war, he would instruct the officers in carrying them out to allow every one claiming to own a horse or a mule to take the animal to his home, so that they could put in a crop to tide them through the next winter, which he feared might be one of want and suffering, owing to the wide devastation.

Lee is reported to have said then, "This will have the best possible effect upon the men. It will be very gratifying, and will do much toward conciliating our people.'