From this isolation one thing was developed, and another thing might in due time be expected.  The thing developed was a social life, in the favored class, which has an almost unique charm, a power of being agreeable, a sympathetic cordiality, an impulsive warmth, a frankness in the expression of emotion, and that delightful quality of manner which puts the world at ease and makes life pleasant.  The Southerners are no more sincere than the Northerners, but they have less reserve, and in the social traits that charm all who come in contact with them, they have an element of immense value in the variety of American life.

The thing that might have been expected in due time, and when the call came—­and it is curious to note that the call and cause of any renaissance are always from the outside—­was a literary expression fresh and indigenous.  This expectation, in a brief period since the war, has been realized by a remarkable performance and is now stimulated by a remarkable promise.  The acclaim with which the Southern literature has been received is partly due to its novelty, the new life it exhibited, but more to the recognition in it of a fresh flavor, a literary quality distinctly original and of permanent importance.  This production, the first fruits of which are so engaging in quality, cannot grow and broaden into a stable, varied literature without scholarship and hard work, and without a sympathetic local audience.  But the momentary concern is that it should develop on its own lines and in its own spirit, and not under the influence of London or Boston or New York.  I do not mean by this that it should continue to attract attention by peculiarities of dialect-which is only an incidental, temporary phenomenon, that speedily becomes wearisome, whether “cracker” or negro or Yankee—­but by being true to the essential spirit and temperament of Southern life.

During this period there was at the North, and especially in the East, great intellectual activity and agitation, and agitation ethical and moral as well as intellectual.  There was awakening, investigation, questioning, doubt.  There was a great deal of froth thrown to the surface.  In the free action of individual thought and expression grew eccentricities of belief and of practice, and a crop of so-called “isms,” more or less temporary, unprofitable, and pernicious.  Public opinion attained an astonishing degree of freedom,—­I never heard of any community that was altogether free of its tyranny.  At least extraordinary latitude was permitted in the development of extreme ideas, new, fantastic, radical, or conservative.  For instance, slavery was attacked and slavery was defended on the same platform, with almost equal freedom.  Indeed, for many years, if there was any exception to the general toleration it was in the social ostracism of those who held and expressed extreme opinions in regard to immediate emancipation, and were stigmatized as abolitionists.  There was a general ferment of new ideas, not always fruitful in the direction taken, but hopeful in view of the fact that growth and movement are better than stagnation and decay.  You can do something with a ship that has headway; it will drift upon the rocks if it has not.  With much foam and froth, sure to attend agitation, there was immense vital energy, intense life.