and improve the courage of a new army.  And this can only be done by experience in the field.  General George taught his army to do all these things, and do them well.  And the nation felt grateful to him for what he was doing, and sang songs in his praise.  And the army respected and loved General George.  And General George loved and was proud of his army.  The sky of our hopes brightened then, and the nation rejoiced and felt strong again.  We all felt that when spring came Mr. Beauregard and his men would be driven to the wall; that we should march on and take Richmond; and that General George was just the man to do it all for us.

Then an evil hour came.  The nation got in an impatient mood.  And while General George was hardening the constitution of his army on the banks of the Potomac, a great many restless, discontented, and evil-disposed persons sprang up, declared that he was no general at all, and that to command armies was the business of politicians, not soldiers.  During war every nation has its mischievous men, who, to create notoriety for themselves, make war in their own way on the great soldiers who are struggling to preserve its honor.  These men were our misfortune.  They proceeded to make war on General George, to persecute him, and to destroy his usefulness with the army.  These men affected to know a great deal about war; but I noticed, my son, that they were very unwilling to shoulder a musket and face the enemy.  They wanted General George to move on in the middle of winter, drive Mr. Beauregard out of Manassas, and take Richmond.  And all this while the mud was so deep that he could not drag his wagons through it.  George very sensibly refused to destroy his army in this way.  Indeed, he foresaw that to follow their advice would be to bring the nation to grief a second time.  This increased the discontent and opposition of his enemies, who regarded it a great grievance that a general would not follow their advice.

But George was not to be driven into the mud by a set of meddlesome civilians, who knew nothing about war.  And to show them that he was not, he kept his army quiet, on the banks of the Potomac, all winter.  And in this position he contemplated Mr. Beauregard, and Mr. Beauregard contemplated him, separated by twenty miles of mud.  We had not got our war eyes open then, my son.  In truth, we had but a very imperfect idea of what an amount of resistance a resolute and determined foe, standing on the defensive, can offer.

When it was spring, and the birds had come back to us, and the prospect looked bright and cheering, and the hopes of the nation ran high, George mounted his horse, and, picking up his army, moved out in the direction of Richmond, taking the overland route.  He sent word to Mr Beauregard to wait until he came and he would thrash him out of Manassas.  But Mr. Beauregard was not inclined to accommodate George with a fight at that particular point, where his elbows were so exposed, and stepped quietly out by the back