Oh God, this is war!
_Arnold_. I understand you, Colonel Leslie. There was a crisis like this
in New Jersey last winter, I know, when our people were flocking to the
royal standard, as they are now, and a few fiendish outrages on the part
of the foe changed the whole current in our favor. It may be so now, but
meanwhile--
_Leslie_. Meanwhile, this army is the hope of the nation, and must be
preserved. We are wronged, Sir. Have we not done all that men could do?
What were twenty pitched battles to such an enemy, with a force like
ours, compared with the harm we have done them? Have we not kept them
loitering here among these hills, wasting the strength that was meant to
tell in the quivering fibres of men, on senseless trees and stones,
paralyzing them with famine, wearying them with unexciting, inglorious
toil, until, divided and dispirited, at last we can measure our power
with theirs, and fight, not in vain? Why, even now the division is
planning there, which will bring them to our feet. And what to us, Sir,
were the hazards of one bloody encounter, to the pitiful details of this
unhonored warfare?--We are wronged--we are wronged, Sir.
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