omewhere, eating government rations.

But, all things considered, the best definition of true courage I have
ever read is that given by Gen. Sherman in his Memoirs, as follows:

"I would define true courage," (he says,) "to be a perfect sensibility
of the measure of danger, and a mental willingness to endure it."
(Sherman's Memoirs, revised edition, Vol. 2, p. 395.) But, I will
further say, in this connection, that, in my opinion, much depends,
sometimes, especially at a critical moment, on the commander of the men
who is right on the ground, or close at hand. This is shown by the
result attained by Gen. Milroy in the incident I have previously
mentioned. And, on a larger scale, the inspiring conduct of Gen.
Sheridan at the battle of Cedar Creek, Virginia, is probably the most
striking example in modern history of what a brave and resolute leader
of men can accomplish under circumstances when apparently all is lost.
And, on the other hand, I think there is no doubt that the battle of
Wilson's Creek, Missouri, on August 10, 1861, was a Union victory up to
the time of the death of Gen. Lyon, and would have remained such if the
officer who succeeded Lyon had possessed the nerve of his fallen chief.
But he didn't, and so he marched our troops off the field, retreated
from a beaten enemy, and hence Wilson's Creek figures in history as a
Confederate victory. (See "The Lyon Campaign," by Eugene F. Ware, pp.
324-339.) I have read somewhere this saying of Bonaparte's: "An army of
deer commanded by a lion is better than an army of lions commanded by a
deer." While that statement is only figurative in its nature, it is,
however, a strong epigrammatic expression of the fact that the
commander of soldiers in battle should be, above all other things, a
forcible, determined, and brave man.

CHAPTER XXV.

FRANKLIN, SUMMER OF 1865. MUSTERED OUT, SEPTEMBER 8, 1865. RECEIVE
FINAL PAYMENT AT SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, SEPTEMBER 27, 1865. THE
REGIMENT "BREAKS RANKS" FOREVER.

Soldiering at Franklin, Tennessee, in May, June, July, and August,
1865, was simply of a picnic kind. The war was over in that region, and
everything there was as quiet and peaceful as it was at home in
Illinois. Picket guards were dispensed with, and the only guard duty
required was a small detail for the colors at regimental headquarters,
and a similar one over our commissary stores. However, it was deemed
necessary for the health of the men to maintain comp