homesickness of the man who leaves
his family to an unimagined fate, and
sacrifices years in the service of his
country. I saw that the mere foregoing
of roof and bed is an indescribable dis-
tress; I learned something of what the
palpitant anxiety before a battle must
be, and the quaking fear at the first
rattle of bullets, and the half-mad rush
of determination with which men force
valour into their faltering hearts; I
was made to know something of the
blight of war -- the horror of the battle-
field, the waste of bounty, the ruin of
homes.

Then, rising above this, came stories
of devotion, of brotherhood, of service
on the long, desolate marches, of cour-
age to the death of those who fought
for a cause. I began to see wherein
lay the highest joy of the soldier, and
of how little account he held himself,
if the principle for which he fought
could be preserved. I heard for the
first time the wonderful words of Lin-
coln at Gettysburg, and learned to re-
peat a part of them.

I was only eight, it is true, but emo-