Kilpatrick the model soldier. As an equestrian we have never
seen his superior. He rides as though he had been made for a saddle.
Rocks, stumps, fallen trees, brooks, and fences are nothing before him.
His well-trained steeds understand him perfectly, and are never at a
loss to know what is meant by the sharp spurs on their sides, whatever
obstacles stand in their path. We have seen him leap over barriers
where only few could follow him. To accomplish such feats the horse must
have confidence in the rider as well as the rider in the horse. While in
a charge, Kilpatrick has more the appearance of an eagle pouncing upon
his prey, than that of a man pouncing upon a man. Then, too, he has a
wonderful power of endurance. Though somewhat slender in form and
delicate in mould, with complexion and eyes as light as a maiden's, yet
it would seem as though his bones were iron and his sinews steel, while
the whole is overlaid with gold. He is certainly compactly built. He has
undoubtedly his faults, but his men fail to see them, so that to them he
is as good as perfect.

What so young a champion of the right may yet achieve for his country,
is a matter of much hopeful conjecture among us. He is now only
twenty-five years of age, having had his birth in the beautiful valley
of the Clove, in Northern New Jersey, in 1838. He entered the Military
Academy at West Point on the twentieth of June, 1856, and graduated with
honors in 1860, just in time to be ready for the great conflict then
impending. He was present at Baltimore when the mob endeavored to stop
the trains for Washington, and the blood of Massachusetts men was spilt
upon the streets. He there exhibited that bold intrepidity which has
ever characterized his actions. He was wounded at the battle of Big
Bethel, one of the first engagements of the war, where as a lieutenant
he commanded Duryea's Zouaves, June eleventh, 1861. He had just
recovered from his wound when he entered upon the organization of the
Harris Light, and became its lieutenant-colonel.

_March 5._--We had regimental drill at the usual time this morning. I
rode my black pony recently drawn in place of my little black mare,
deceased. This was his first experience in cavalry discipline; and I
infer that the men in the front rank of the platoon, which I commanded,
hoped it might be his last entry; for it must have been most
emphatically evident to those who followed him that he was determined to
introduce a new sy