“You had had a hard time, no doubt.”

“But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time.  I believe that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was a Union soldier.”

“That only shows that you acted your part.”

“The sudden changes are what I find so hard.  To imagine myself a Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the next moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary.”

“Very likely.”

“I’d prefer being in the ranks.”

“Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your sufferings?”

“I know it.  The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly contrasted with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I become another, and I can see two of me at once.”

“And that proves painful?”

“It is torture.  If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order to succeed, why, I prefer the ranks.”

“You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones; the relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity.  But for your recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent real and practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could not become, in imagination, a Confederate.  Imagination depends largely on memory.  The extraordinary vividness of your memory produces a corresponding vividness in imagining.  You see how valuable are your peculiar powers.  I have no doubt that with a little data concerning some narrow section of the South, such as knowledge of family names and family history, you could join the Confederate army and play a most important role, giving to your generals information of contemplated movements as well as of movements, in actual progress.”

“Doctor Khayme,” said I, “never could I consent to such a life.”

“I do not advise it,” said he, without appearing to regard my emotion; “I doubt if it would be best for you.  It would be more likely to confirm your intermittent states.  What you need is to get rid entirely of any necessity for the exercise of either memory or imagination for a time.  To cherish either is to cherish both.  On the contrary, any great and long-continued interest, which would dissociate you from your past, would, in my judgment, prove the end of your peculiar states.”

I did not reply.  The Doctor remained silent for a long time.  When he spoke again, he rose to retire.  “Goodnight, my boy; and hope for the best.  Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the total.  Keep up your spirits.  War has many startling opportunities as well as disasters.”

* * * * *

In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were heard miles away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the whole of McClellan’s left wing was engaged.  Fearing that my company was actually in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report for me to our adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the Doctor’s solicitation, a few words to General Grover.