condition of things I refer to. "Pemberton is everything with Davis, the devout," writes Mackall; "his intelligence is only equaled by his self-sacrificing regard for others." 39 And again: "The people won't stand this nonsense much longer. Mr. Davis's game now is to pretend that he don't think you a great general. He don't tell the truth, and if he did, as all the military men in the country differ with him, he will be forced to yield."40Any commander who tolerates this sort of thing from a subordinate, tacitly, more than tacitly, admits that he shares the subordinate's opinion.
The sum of the matter is that Johnston had allowed himself to fall into the fatal frame of mind of assuming that Davis's action was constantly dictated by personal animosity towards himself. Such an assumption, whether well founded or not, if dwelt on and brooded over, was sure to breed a corresponding animosity and to paralyze both the general's genius and his usefulness. Nothing shows this attitude better than Johnston's remark to S. D. Lee, when Lee congratulated him on his restoration to command in 1865 and on Davis's promise of support: "He will not do it. He has never done it. It is too late now, and he has only put me in command to disgrace me."41
While the war was actually going on, this mutual hostility of president and general was controlled to some extent by the necessary conventions and civilities of official intercourse. It is both curious and pitiable to see
