our letter presented exactly my feelings about the question of remaining in America. I do not see what reasonable ground of hope there is, which appears probable to the mere human understanding. (With God all things are possible.) When we said, during the war, that we were contending for everything which makes the heritage of a free, Christian people dear to them, I, for one, believed what I said, and as I see we are whipped, I must regard all this as lost. I cannot so soon unlearn the deliberate and solemn convictions on which I staked my life upon the field of battle, and now avow, virtually, that when we made those strenuous declarations concerning the stake of the war, we were all demagoguizing. I, for one, was not. But everything I have seen since convinces me more, that I was not mistaken. It appears to me that there are only two prospects for the South. Parts of it will continue under the present paralysis, until they sink permanently into the condition of Jamaica (of these, I fear Southside Virginia will be one.) Other parts, as Northern Virginia and the Valley, will again see material prosperity; but only by being completely Yankeeized. There is our whole prospect.

Again, people do not enough allow for the poisonous moral effects of an oppressive government. What, with this blight (so visible now in society and church) and the killing and banishing of the most of our better spirits, I fear the independence, the honor , the hospitality, the integrity, the everything which constituted Southern character, is gone forever. The Yankees said they would either conquer the South, or exterminate it. They have done the latter, literally. You know that in every community, everything which is morally characteristic of it proceeds from a small minority. (In our church there are about twenty-five men and women whose extinction all together would virtually extinguish the church.) Now of the ruling class in the South the most have been literally murdered by the Yankees, and a good many banished. A few Generals Lee, Gordon, Hill, etc., Drs. Hoge, Palmer, etc.- remain alive, but the powerless and fettered. The Yankees have literally killed that which made the South the South.

From all I see, the only chance to save any of the true Christianity of the South is to transplant it as quick as possible. People say, 'What is then to become of the land, if you take away the only salt left?' I reply, 'What if this salt should lose its savor?' Consult history. Did ever an evangelical and pure church exist long under a mean, despotic government except as it lived habitually in the fires of persecution? If the latter is to be the condition of our existence in this State, I, for one, prefer to avail myself of our Saviour's precept and permission, 'When they persecute you in one city, flee ye into another.'

n the latter months of his life, and only a short while before his death, Governor Stockdale (who was, by the way, a native of Southern Kentucky) gave me the following narative:

He was at the White Sulpher Springs, Virginia, in the summer of 1870, in the autumn of which year General Lee died. Here the two old friends met for the last time.

General Rosecrans, of the Northern army, was at the Springs, showing much attention to his former adversaries, and acting the magnanimous conqueror. He had been a war Democrat, and now a member of the Federal Congress, was acting again with the Northern Democratic party.

There was quite a galaxy of distinguished ex-Confederates at the Springs also-lieutenant-generals, major-generals, senators, etc.

One day Rosecrans approached General Lee, so: he said that everybody in the North knew General Lee was a representative Southerner, and everybody had perfect confidence in his truthfulness; and if he (Rosecrans) could be authorized by General Lee to say, on behalf of the Southern people, that they were now glad to be back in the Union, and loyal to the old flag, that that sentiment would do a great deal of good in Congress; that he (Rosecrans) could use it to assuage the bitterness of feeling among the coercion leaders, and make the Federal Government much more lenient towards the conquered States.

With his usual polite caution, General Lee replied that he did not think he had the right to speak for the Southern people; that he now held no officer by their gift, except the very humble one of a teacher of youth; that he had not even the right of citizenship, and hence did not think he had a right to speak for the Southern people. But Rosecrans was quite urgent; thereupon, General Lee said that many distinguished ex-Confederates were now at the Springs, from various parts of the Southern States, and from these General Rosecrans could learn their impressions of Southern feelings and purposes.

Rosecrans caught at this, saying that he was not acquainted with most of these gentlemen , and he wished General Lee to bring him acquainted with them, in order that he might get their views. General Lee consented to invite a number of them to meet General Rosecrans at his parlor, on Paradise Row. Consequently, the next morning a species of small levee was convened there by General Lee's invitation, and among them was ex-Governor Stockdale, of Texas.

General Lee was very silent and very polite, greeting everybody with scrupulous courtesy and seeing them well seated. He himself took the last seat in a plain chair by the open door.

Rosecrans then began his catechism, asking each ex-Confederate the same questions he wished General Lee to answer.

Governor Stockdale said to me that many of the replies struck him as entirely too sycophantic and insincere, and he surmised from General Lee's countenance that the old soldier felt the same way about them.

Governor Stockdale related the story thus: Doctor, I was perhaps the smallest man of the assemblage, both in personal stature and in political importance, being only an ex-Governor, and I had fallen into the corner down at the end of the row of distinguished Confederates, so the question came to me last.

Rosecrans said, in substance, 'Now, Governor Stockdale, let us hear how your gallant Texans feel toward the old government and the old flag?'

I replied: 'General Rosecrans, since that day in June, 1865, when General Merritt with his soldiers drove me from the Government House, I have held no office in Texans, and have not been authorized by the people of Texas to represent them in anything; but I know them well, and I am sure that you may say this: the people of Texas will remain quiet, and not again resort to forceful resistance against the Federal Government, whatever may be the measures of that government.'

General Rosecrans replied very unctuously, 'Ah! That is good news from our gallant Texans,' etc.

I stopped him and said: 'But, General Rosecrans, candor requires me to explain the attitude of my people. The people of Texas have made up their minds to remain quiet under all aggressions and to have peace; but they have none of the spaniel in their composition. No, sir, they are not in the least like the dog that seeks to lick the hand of the man that kicked him; but it is because they are a very sensible, practical, common-sense people, and understand their position. They know that they resisted the Federal Government as long as any means of resistance was left, and that any attempt at resistance now must be in vain; and they have no means, and would only make bad worse. This is the view of the matter which is going to keep Texas quiet.'

At this stage of the conference, General Lee rose from his chair; Rosecrans took the hint. He filed out, and the big Confederates, one behind the other, after him.

I being the little man in the farther corner, was the last to approach the door. General Lee had given a very polite good-morning to each man as he passed out; as I said to him, 'good-morning,' he gently closed the door before me, keeping the door-knob in his left hand, and said to me, as follows:

'Governor Stockdale, before you leave, I wish to give you my thanks for brave, true words. You know, Governor, what my position is. Those people (his uniform term for the Yankees) choose, for what reason I know not, to hold me as a representative Southerner; hence, I know they watch my words, and if I should speak unadvisedly, what I say would be caught up by their speakers and newspapers, and magnified into a pretext for adding to the load of oppression they have placed upon our poor people; and God knows, Governor, that load is heavy enough now; but you can speak, for you are not under that restraint, and I want to thank you for your bold, candid words.'

I thought he would dismiss me; but he still held the door closed, and after a time he resumed and uttered these words: 'Governor, if I had foreseen the use those people designed to make of their victory, there would have been no surrender at Appomattox Courthouse; no sir, not by me.' Then with rising color, throwing back his head like an old war horse, he added these words, 'Had I foreseen these results of subjugation, I would have preferred to die at Appomattox with my brave men, my sword in this right hand.' He then dropped his head, and, with a sad look, added: 'This, of course, is for your ear only. My friend, good-morning;' and with that he opened the door and took my leave.