"Oh no!" replied he, "it is impossible. War is a kind of game, and has its fixed rules, whereby, when we are well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly tell how the trial will go. To-morrow, it seems, the die is to be cast, and in my judgment, without the least chance on our side. The militia will, I suppose, as usual, play the back-game, that is, get out of the scrape as fast as their legs can carry them. But that, you know, won't do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run: and I believe I have with me some brave fellows that will stand by me to the last. So that, when you hear of our battle, you will probably hear that your old friend De Kalb is at rest." I do not know that I was ever more affected in my life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by the hand, with a firm tone, and animated look, said, "No! no! gentlemen; no emotions for me but those of congratulation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible decree of him who made us. Then what joy to be able to meet his decree without dismay! This, thank God, is my case. The happiness of man is my wish, that happiness I deem inconsistent with slavery. -- And to avert so great an evil from an innocent people, I will gladly meet the British to-morrow, at any odds whatever." As he spoke this, I saw a something in his eyes which at once demonstrated the divinity of virtue and the immortality of the soul. With sorrowful hearts we then left him, and with feelings which I shall never forget, while memory maintains her place in this my aged brain. "Oh my God!" said Marion, as we rode off, "what a difference does education make between man and man! Enlightened by her sacred ray, see here is the native of a distant country, come to fight for our liberty and happiness, while many of our own people, for lack of education, are actually aiding the British to heap chains and curses upon themselves and children." It was on the morning of August the 15th, 1780, that we left the army in a good position near Rugeley's mills, twelve miles from Camden, where the enemy lay. About ten o'clock that night orders were given to march to surprise the enemy, who had at the same time commenced their march, to surprise the Americans. To their mutual astonishment, the advance of the two armies met about two o'clock, and began to fire on each other. The firing, however, was soon discontinued by both parties, who appeared very willing to leave the matter to be decided by daylight. A council of war was called: in which De Kalb advised that the army should fall back to Rugeley's mills, and there, in a good position, wait to be attacked. --