id Bacon, sorrowfully, "that makes me sick at heart.
Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his
flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters
that bind us."

"Think not thus gloomily on the subject," replied Hansford. "Believe me,
that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in
Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives;
and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served
may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of
that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because
he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory
to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to
victory."

"God bless your noble soul, Hansford," said Bacon, with the intensest
admiration. "It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live
in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of
self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate
the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness
resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril
and trial."

This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for
personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon
in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an
entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest
convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this
that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while
the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him;
and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The
former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and
firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, knowing
that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success,
braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.

"But, alas!" continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, "if we should
fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men
forever--your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this
living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to
pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon
the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to l