“I follow you.”

“This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it purpose what it will not execute.”

“Please illustrate, Doctor.”

“Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of making a world should make a comet.”

“He would not be God,” said I, “unless the comet should happen to be in a fair way of becoming a world.”

“Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or failure.”

“Yes; I see, or think I do.”

“Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and slavery a crime.  Two truths cannot clash.”

“Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery into existence, and war, also?”

“Not at all.  What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules and works beyond both.  Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns them into means for advancing His cause.”

“Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true.  But I do not see how the South can be right.”

“What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?” asked Lydia, suddenly.

It was about two o’clock.  We had walked slowly toward the beach.

“They are all looking in our direction,” said Dr. Khayme; “they see something that interests them.”

Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the wind blew toward us.  Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us were looking intently through their field-glasses.

“I’ll go and find out,” said the Doctor; “stay here till I return.”

We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a glass; he looked, and came back to us rapidly.

“We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a glass,” said he.

“What is it all about, Father?” asked Lydia.

“A Confederate war-vessel,” said he, and was gone.

“I hope she will be captured,” said I; “and I have no doubt she will.”

“You have not read the papers lately,” said Lydia.

“No; what do you mean?”

“I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron steamer which the Confederates have built at Norfolk,” she replied.

“Iron?”

“Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with iron, so that it cannot be injured.”

“Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships remain here?”

The Doctor now rejoined us.  He handed me a glass.  I could see a vessel off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction.  Lydia took the glass, and exclaimed, “That must be the Merrimac! what a strange-looking ship!”

The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the shore were fast increasing.  The Doctor said not a word; indeed, throughout the prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and, to all seeming, emotionless.

Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore.  With the unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of them were but a very short distance from us.