that was theirs, and I comprehended, to some degree, how hard a thing it was to win fame.
For myself, I had played my part in the great drama of war with what skill I could command ; and, although I had not played it altogether unsuccessfully, the chances that fame and the applause of future ages would be mine, seemed as remote as ever. Warfare, despite all that was terrible and horrible about it, was, to the majority of those who participated in it, a most commonplace, practical, and far from exciting business, in which the chances for eminent distinction seldom appeared, and in which Fortune showered her favors only on a chosen few. And yet there was an almost irresistible fascination in being an active participant in the great events upon which the destinies of a continent were hanging, and the possibility that, at any moment almost, something might occur by which the humblest among the host of combatants would be immortalized, gave a zest to the hard work, and an inspiration to exertion.
Had I continued in health, the probabilities are that the idea of abandoning the cause I had chosen before the close of the war, would never have been permitted to take lodgment in my brain, and I would have gone on from one adventure to another, in spite of every discouragement and disappointment, hoping always that I would be able to achieve something great. Now, however, lying upon my sick-bed, I could not but confess to myself that I was disappointed, and that I was following a will-o'-the-wisp in striving to gain for myself a great name by heroic deeds. Although I had no regrets for the course I had pursued, and as I reviewed in my mind the momentous events in which I had been an active participant during the two years I had been wearing a Confederate officer's uniform, my heart beat proudly at the recollection of them, I nevertheless almost concluded that I had had enough of this, and that it was time for me to exchange my uniform for the attire of my own sex once more, and in good earnest, with the intention of never resuming it again.
Thoughts of Love.
These were sick fancies, and I felt ashamed of myself at times for my weakening in the resolution I had formed to see the thing through at all hazards, in some shape, and, if there was a possibility of doing it, of making for myself a great
