*' I arrived at his house at Mentor in the early
21



322 BOYHOOD AND MANHOOD OV

morning following the disaster in Maine. While
all about him were in panic, he saw only a dam-
age which must and could be repaired. ^ It is no
use bemoaning the past,' he said ; ' the past has no
uses except for its lessons.' Business disposed of,
he threw aside all restraint, and for hours his
speculations and theories upon philosophy, gov-
ernment, education, eloquence; his criticism of
books, his reminiscences of men and events,
made that one of the white-letter days of my life.
At Chickamauga he won his major-general's com-
mission. On the anniversary of the battle he
died. I shall never forget his description of the
fight — so modest, yet graphic. It is imprinted on
my memory as the most glorious battle-picture
words ever painted. He thought the greatest
calamity which could befall a man was to lose
ambition. I said to him, ' General, did you never
in your earlier struggle have that feeling I have
so often met with, when you would have com-
promised your future for a certainty, and if so,
what ? ' ' Yes,' said he, * I remember well when
I would have been willing to exchange all the
possibilities of my life for the certainty of a posi-
tion as a successful teacher.' Though he died



JAMES A. OABFIELD. 323

neither a school principal nor college professor,
and they seem humble achievements compared
with what he did, his memory will instruct while
time endures.
