It was like the successful gambler, flushed with continual winnings, who staked his all and lost.

It was like the end of the Southern Confederacy.

Things that were, were not.

It was the end.

The soldier of the relief guard who brought us the news while picketing on the banks of the Chattahoochee, remarked, by way of imparting gently the information-- "Boys, we've fought all the war for nothing.