Journal of Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman.

12th.—Am not well to-day. Have diarrhœa, and at midday had high fever. How much I miss the tender care of my family in sickness. Am much better to-night, but feel sad. Have been reading Ernest Linwood, and, by contrast, it has recalled pleasant family scenes, which I miss in my sickness. I wish I had not written my last letter to my family. I felt badly when I wrote it, and spoke harshly of officers. ‘Twas wrong, but I cannot recall it. Oh, if every thought is a material thing, an entity, and goes forth to make a part of the great mental and moral atmosphere, how is it possible that, with the great preponderance of evil imaginations there can be moral or mental advancement? We should be as careful of our thoughts as of our acts.