I must write a line to you about your poor friends! It is the tragedy of this war! Very terrible. I hope the bitterness of death was short, and to gallant spirits like theirs hope and courage probably supported them till the very last, when higher hopes helped them to undo their grasp on this life.
In the dying—they suffered far less than most of us will probably suffer in our beds—but to be at the fullest stretch of manly powers in the service of their country among the world's hopes and fears and turmoils, and to be suddenly called upon to "leave all and follow Christ"—when the "all" for them had most righteously got every force of mind and body devoted to it—must be at least one hard struggle. And death away from home does seem so terrible!
Richard will feel it very much. That Nottingham election seems so short a time ago.
Back from Church! Great haste. We have had that grand hymn with—
"Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest."
I did not forget the poor souls.
Prayers for the dead is one of those things which always seems to me the most curiously obvious and simple of duties!
Your most loving, J.H.E.
71, Warwick Road. April 9, 1883.