"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the ends that we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is blocked out in the large for us by powers over which we can have no control, but that within certain limits we do the shaping of our own lives."
"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will be done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world does one battle, more or fewer, have?"
"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the result is nothing; but every event is important to some life."
"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over yonder, and that we could have occupied it but that our men were recalled."
"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy would only have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging at this moment."
Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to do your full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more we have to do, the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must collect all our energies, and each man must do the work of two. Impress the men strongly with the necessity for courage and endurance."
The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain good night.
On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the brigade, which was in line a little to the south of the Seminary. The sun shone hot. The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery roared at our left and far to our right. At times shells came over us. A caisson near by exploded. In the afternoon a great battle was raging some two miles to our right. Longstreet's corps had gone in.
At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On the litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men gathered around. Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of them approached the litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men came slowly back--one at a time--grim.