kindness?

66

Write to my father when I am gone," naming a small rural nook in Indiana as the address, " and tell him I am dead." And I said it was all right. "And tell him I owe such a man four dollars and a half, and such a man owes me four dollars; and will he make things straight for me, as I came away in a hurry? And father must draw my pay and keep it all." Then he lay silent for a while, but woke up again and said to me, "I have been dreaming about home, and had a drink out of the old well in our door-yard: it did taste so good!" And then, while we looked on the lad, his eyes grew dim. He had left us as we looked. He also went up in his chariot of fire. Neither shall he thirst any more, but drink

66

'From life's fair stream, fast by the throne of God."

This was what we found to do day and night on the steamer. One would be a surgeon's assistant when he was needed; some of us grew clever at that work. I was one, the surgeon told me; but that is another story. Then we went about with cool water and soft lint and linen, nice choices of food and sips of wine by the doctor's leave; but they liked my milk and things

best. And they would tell us about their home and folks after we had got a bit intimate.

This man, strong and bearded, was hurt twice in the battle, and went away from the surgeon's hands, as he said, to have another try for it. He was struck the third time, and said, “I guess this is the finish." And it was. That boy stood in the fight, I was told, like one of Napoleon's old guard. I found, as I talked with him, he was an old-fashioned, iron-clad, close communion Baptist. He had just strength enough, an officer told me, after he was hurt to crawl into the bushes, and then he began to pray with all his might, not for himself-he was all right but for the God of battles to give the victory to the flag of the Union. "And there's a man," 66 one said to me, an officer as you see. His company was badly thinned early in the first day of the fight. Well, he took the musket and ammunition from one of his men who lay dead, and said: 'Boys, we are short-handed. I guess I will go into the ranks a spell.' He fought all day with his company, but now he will fight no more. 99

This is the story of the old battlefield, told in the fitful fashion, but not half told. I am there again, as I look through the long vista

of the

years, and am by no means sure that I have done.

War is hell, the great commander said. Yes, I would answer, war is hell. But these memories steal out, and then I say, Is this all? And I turn to the seer's vision in the Holy Book and read: "There was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought the dragon and his angels, and the dragon was cast out." And then I ask, What do these things mean?

XX

The church, I was glad to find, suffered no loss by the minister's absence at Donelson, Pittsburg Landing, and Lawrence; for, indeed, after my return from the long spell in Washington and Missouri, I was never absent, for more than two Sundays, while the people were as eager to send me on those errands as I was to go.

Also on the first Sunday after my return I never thought of preaching a sermon, but told them the story of what we had seen and done in the hospitals and on the steamers in words close of kin to the memories you have read, I trust, while they would listen with blended smiles and tears. There would be a lesson also, and this would usually be one of the old fighting psalms; for these were in great favor with us in those times; a psalm and then a prayer, with psalms and songs sung very much as they were sung on that memorable first Sunday, but in softer tones, as when we sing the requiems for the dead, and deep calleth unto deep in the

heart's reverence and love. The immortal numbers of one of the chief singers in our Israel,—

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,"—

were pulsing before their birth-time in the strong heart of the nation. Nor could the church be content merely to spare her minister: she must also be up and doing. The women organized at once to work for the Sanitary Commission, the needle to help heal the hurts of the sword, to help take care also of the regiments which poured through the city, as well as the sick and wounded. Money also was needed, and on a Sunday morning after the service fifteen hundred dollars was subscribed in less than so many minutes for any and every demand.

Mr. Emerson was in the church that morning, was to go home with me to dinner; and, as we went away from the church, he said, with a tremor in his voice, "I must give you something also." And when I said, "I think we shall have enough, sir," he answered, "It will be well to have more than enough," as he passed some bank-notes into my hand. I was glad to notice also that our congregations grew steadily larger Sunday by Sunday, until they quite filled the