her own worth, and then
from her influence on myself, was entirely absent. I will only state
that from the humble position which I gladly accepted in the beginning
in Washington's army, I rose regularly but rapidly to the rank of
officer. My military education did not take long. Into this, as into
everything that I have undertaken during my life, I put my whole soul,
and through the pertinacity of my will I overcame all obstacles.

I won the confidence of my illustrious chiefs. My excellent constitution
fitted me well for the hardships of war; my old brigand habits too were
of immense service to me; I endured reverses with a calmness beyond the
reach of most of the young Frenchmen who had embarked with me, however
brilliant their courage might otherwise have been. My own was cool
and tenacious, to the great surprise of our allies, who more than once
doubted my origin, on seeing how quickly I made myself at home in the
forests, and how often my cunning and suspiciousness made me a match for
the savages who sometimes harassed our manoeuvres.

In the midst of my labours and frequent changes of place I was fortunate
enough to be able to cultivate my mind through my intimacy with a young
man of merit whom Providence sent me as a companion and friend. Love
of the natural sciences had decided him to join our expedition, and he
never failed to show himself a good soldier; but it was easy to see that
political sympathy had played only a secondary part in his decision.
He had no desire for promotion, no aptitude for strategic studies. His
herbarium and his zoological occupations engaged his thoughts much more
than the successes of the war and the triumph of liberty. He fought too
well, when occasion arose, to ever deserve the reproach of lukewarmness;
but up to the eve of a fight and from the morrow he seemed to have
forgotten that he was engaged in anything beyond a scientific expedition
into the wilds of the New World. His trunk was always full, not of money
and valuables, but of natural history specimens; and while we were lying
on the grass on the alert for the least noise which might reveal the
approach of the enemy, he would be absorbed in the analysis of some
plant or insect. He was an admirable young man, as pure as an angel, as
unselfish as a stoic, as patient as a savant, and withal cheerful and
affectionate. When we were in danger of being surprised, he could think
and talk of nothing but the precious pebbles and the i