I doubt
not, all the most earnest seekers for divine truth, in whatever
way revealed to man, he would not be satisfied with his own perception
of such truth unless he could feel it "burn in his brain." In that
brief experience I became for the first time intensely interested
in practical astronomy, about which I had thought little before,
although I had had sole charge of the observatory for some time.
I have always since given Professor Drown credit for teaching me
practical astronomy by first leading me to the discovery that I
had a natural taste and aptitude for such work, theretofore
unsuspected. That new "lead" was followed with all possible zeal,
day and night, for many months, until all the instruments in the
observatory, fixed and movable, including the old mural circle,
had gone through a season's work. Although my scientific experience
has been very limited, I do not believe anything else in the broad
domain of science can be half so fascinating as the study of the
heavens. I have regretted many times that necessity limited my
enjoyment of that great pleasure to a very few years instead of a
lifetime.

In that West Point observatory I had one of the many opportunities
of my life--one which I always enjoyed--of protecting the unfortunate
from the stern decree of "justice." The old German custodian came
to me one morning in great distress, saying that he had let the
"astronomical chronometer" run down, and that the professor would
kill him. I went with him to the transit tower, made an observation,
and set the chronometer. The professor never knew the difference
till I told him, after the lapse of time named in the military
statute of limitations. Then he seemed to rejoice as much as I
over the narrow escape of his faithful subordinate. The professor
was not half as stern as he sometimes appeared to be.

I need hardly say that in the midst of these absorbing occupations
I forgot all about the career I had chosen in my boyhood. The law
had no longer any charms for me. Yet I found in after life far
more use for the law than for physics and astronomy, and little
less than for the art and science of war.

In June, 1857, I married Miss Harriet Bartlett, the second daughter
of my chief in the department of philosophy. Five children were
born to us, three of whom--two sons and one daughter--grew to
maturity and survive their mother, who died in Washington soon
after I was assigned to the command of th