forgot their chagrin in the labors for the coming con flict. To the honest soldier it seemed as if Nature herself had forgotten to move, his heart throbbed so impatiently for the eventful hour when traitors should have dealt out to them the punishment they richly merit.

"Autumn came, and the people were coolly told that Winter was the proper time for the marching of our armies, and until then we must be content to fortify and drill. Again the people were utterly confounded, and lost all confidence in those they had trusted. The nations of the whole world were deriding our timidity, and threatening us with destruction if we did not show ourselves worthy of the title we bore. Yet all to no avail,-the army must drill! Winter comes, and lo! and behold! this is not a favorable time, and the army must go into Winter quarters! The roads are good, the soldiers are impatient, the people are ready, but the Government at Washington says, 'Not yet.' Winter is half spent, and the mighty army of two hundred thousand men on the Potomac is patiently resting in Winter quarters. Now what will these shoulder-strap gentlemen—what can the Executive say? When will they tell us that the time for fighting has come? Will it be in the Spring, when the roads are impassable, and disease and death are thinning our ranks? Will it be when the Nation

is stripped of its wealth, and has given its all to no effect? Will it be when the people are disheartened and exhausted and are willing to submit to anything for peace? Or will those in authority let the soldiers strike cease to fatten upon the wealth of the people, and 'let slip the dogs of war, that this foul deed may smell above the earth with carrion men groaning for burial'?

"When we shall get through making big men, when we shall cease our grand reviews and begin our grand march, when our Government has the manliness and courage to look traitors in the face and say, 'So far and no farther,' when it gets through patting treason and licking the feet of traitors, when the Government dares speak in our Congress, in our Executive, in his Cabinet, not by wordy proclamations but by law and bullets, then, and not till then shall we be victorious."

Lincoln's long-suffering patience was incomprehensible to Burrows, as it was to others. Later, the youthful patriot was to understand that the greathearted President was willing to endure insult and mockery if by so doing he might prevent the necessity of continuing the fratricidal conflict. To him, the "rebels" were never traitors, but rather misguided, rebellious members of that great family over which he ruled as head, and he tried to win them back by

Burrows came to

acts of mercy and conciliation. realize this later, and his splendid Eulogy of Lincoln, spoken on June 1, 1865, shortly after the President's assassination, is interesting not only for the changed attitude but also for the dignity in style which was indicative of the personal development three years had wrought. Seldom has a man so promptly and so completely answered his own criticism:

"While the ship of State was rocking upon rebellion's angry sea," he said, "Lincoln added no breath to the storm, but his words of sober counsel fell like oil upon the troubled waters. Every loyal heart in the whole country, in its mad impatience, demanded daring measures and proclamations that should have the ring of an Andrew Jackson in them; but while this policy might have received the approval of us all, yet it is equally probable that it would have been productive of but little good, and might have proven an act of National suicide. A breath of hasty passion from the Executive head would have swept the whole line of border States into the whirlpool of rebellion, and nursed the spirit of Northern opposition into formidable proportions. But with what wisdom and calmness, as he stood upon the banks of the Ohio, he addressed Kentuckians, then vacillating between loyalty and treason, repeating to them what he had uttered upon a former occasion. We mean to treat

you as near as we possibly can as Washington, Jefferson, and Madison treated you. We mean to leave you alone, and in no way to interfere with your institutions; to abide by all and every compromise of the Constitution; and, in a word, to treat you according to the example of those noble fathers. We mean to remember that you are as good as we,—that there is no difference between us other than the difference of circumstances. Fellow-citizens of Kentucky! friends! brethren may I call you in my new position? I see no occasion and feel no inclination to retract a word of this. If it shall not be made good, be assured the fault shall not be mine." "

ton.

On August 8, 1862, the heartbreaking delay came to an end, the Seventeenth Michigan was mustered into service, and on August 27 it started for WashingHere it was assigned to the First Brigade, First Division, Ninth Army Corps. In a letter written from camp at Waterford, Virginia, Burrows describes their first experiences:

"Our trip to Washington was a perfect ovation," he wrote. "The people everywhere cheered us onward and bade us 'Godspeed.' After arriving at the city of Washington, and marching through some of the principal streets, we pitched our tents upon a hill near Fort Baker, and named the camp 'Camp Willcox' in honor of that noble son of Michigan who

on the field and in the prison is the same undaunted hero. While here in camp we spent our time in learning the use of the axe and spade in obedience to that mysterious strategy 'whose ways are past finding

Yet, in spite of this apparent delay, which caused Burrows to strain at the leash, it was only a little more than two weeks from the day the regiment left its State before it found itself in the midst of one of the severest battles of the war, taking into consideration the numbers engaged. Few regiments received so severe a test of their courage and soldierly qualities so soon after arriving in the field. On September 14 the Seventeenth, with the Ninth Corps, engaged the enemy at South Mountain, Maryland, with the intention of crossing the mountain through Turner's Gap, and driving the Confederates from their commanding positions on the summit, from which they could sweep with their artillery the narrow roads over which the Union troops must pass. The Seventeenth had been so recently organized and was so inexperienced in actual warfare that the men could not appreciate the desperate task assigned them until the enemy's shot and shell were crashing through their ranks. It was another "Taking of Lungtungpen," made famous by Kipling,-"Tis the bhoys-the raw bhoys-that don't know fwat a bullet manes, an' wudn't care av