“Yes, he is dead and cold; he must have died immediately after retiring. The gentleman who occupied the lower berth noticed his arm hanging down over the side of the berth when he went to retire, and spoke to him, but he made no answer; and this morning his arm was just in the same position.”
Yes, he was dead. He had gone from that talk about heaven right into the grandeur and glory of all its blessed mysteries. How thankful I was that our conversation had been about Christian duty and heaven!
My thoughts turned quickly to the widowed mother and the sisters so well beloved; for he had spoken of them all most tenderly. We were now nearing Helena, where he must be taken ashore and buried. He had died of heart disease; and it was that, not drink, which made his face so flushed.
I wrote to his mother, who lived in Lancaster, Pa., telling her all I could recall of our talk about God, duty, heaven, and all the circumstances of our brief acquaintance and his death.
One of his sisters answered my letter, for his mother was quite prostrated by the shock the news of his death had given her.
She said they were looking for his home-coming every hour, when the sad message that he was dead and buried reached them. But the sister’s faith rose triumphantly above it all.
“We all thank God for the loving providence which cast our dear one in the pathway of a Christian who directed his thoughts and hopes heavenward at the last. It is a great comfort to us that his faith was so bright and clear, and that his last thoughts on earth were about heaven.”
I HAVE THE BEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD.
THE thunder of the cannon had ceased at Vicksburg. The artillery and heavy guns of two great armies were idle and silent; and although more than one hundred thousand men of war, the conquerors and the conquered, were in and about the fallen city, it was as quiet and orderly as a country village. Only the day before, July 4, 1863, I had stood with friends on Fort Hill and witnessed the surrender; but now, July 5, duty and conscience led me into the hospitals where the sick and wounded of the Confederate army were quartered. The hospitals were in a wretched condition because of lack of supplies, and some of the sufferers had been lying through all the long siege.