“All this only proves that a good many are walking into the net with their eyes open.
“I have felt since I have been here that I should be proud to give my life to the spreading of Christ’s kingdom, even as a missionary, or in whatever way he might see fit. I never read my Bible with half the interest I now feel in it. Nor did I know how it was adapted to every possible situation. I don’t know at all what is before me in life, but I have no doubt that if God intends me to grow up to man’s estate, he will give me some situation in which I may honor him, and love and benefit my fellow-men. I have conned your letter over carefully, and feel it in my bones. I am convinced, as grandfather wrote me, that the Christian gentleman ‘is the highest style of man, notwithstanding the sneers of the profane and the ungodly.’ I hope that I could never be happy living without some worthy object; and I can conceive of nothing, as an object in life, more glorious and desirable than ‘conducting timid pilgrims through the perils of the wilderness to the promised land.’ You quote a couplet which is often in my mind:
‘The love of Jesus—what it is
None but his loved ones know.’”
A classmate writes of him as follows:
“My heart is too full for utterance, and yet I feel I must let you know what he was to me, and how he was everywhere a blessing. I first knew him at the military school. I had been there a year longer than he, and the first day he came I met him. Cheerful, frank, and sincere, the hearts of all went out to him at once, and there in school, the only Christian, the only unprofane man, he was universally esteemed and respected. And yet among scoffers he was never afraid of the offense of the cross. Boldly and manfully he upheld it all alone. Speaking to others on the subject of religion was a thing which, as he often told me, came hard to him, and yet for that reason he was all the more active in doing it. He set out to speak with every individual member of the school on the subject of his soul’s salvation; and I believe he accomplished it. I know that he set many to thinking as they had never thought before, and, I have no doubt, sowed much seed which will hereafter spring up and bear fruit to the honor and glory of that Master he was so diligent in serving. Among the many, I was as openly a scoffer as any. One day, however, I can never forget; for from it I date the beginning of a new and higher life. It was the last Wednesday in May, 1862. He asked me to walk with him, as we had often done on holidays before. We had gone some little distance and turned a corner on the road; he turned to me abruptly, and asked, ‘B., why are you not a Christian?’ My mouth was stopped. I tried to make excuses; but no, nothing could I say. I had pious parents, who had brought me up to fear God, who had prayed for me night and morning, and who had often pointed out to me the way of salvation and my duty. Yet how far was I from God! What excuses could I make? James gave me no rest until I would promise him to repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and follow him for life. After a long struggle, I did promise him; and he prayed with me then, and often afterward; fixing it upon my mind that the Bible and prayer were the only helps I should use. During the vacation that followed, before we went to college, he wrote, encouraging me to hold on in the course which I had begun. We roomed together, you know, at college. It was a different atmosphere from that at the school; but James was always the same,—the most active in prayer-meetings, and ever ready to talk with and advise the hesitating. During the winter there was a revival in our class, and I could mention the names of several whom he was instrumental in turning from darkness to light. Ever on the watch for opportunities of doing good, of speaking a word in season, he never lost one. As a room-mate, he was the best of friends,—always willing to do, in the kindest way, that hardest of Christian duties: he would point out faults in me, and tell me where I came short of doing right; and this in no spirit of fault-finding, but from pure Christian love. Had he lived a long life, I could never half repay him for the good he has done me in this way. He made friends everywhere. He loved every one, and how could they help loving him? I assisted him in maintaining some prayer-meetings among the poor of the place; and he won their hearts completely. Every Sabbath noon he went to read and pray with them, and after he left they were never tired of hearing about him. The Bible was almost his only book at some periods, when his eyes were very weak: I never saw a more diligent student of the Holy Book. It was in truth a lamp to his feet and a light to his path. Amid the bustle and turmoil of school, he alone found time and opportunity to read it. No one who has not been at the military school can understand the difficulties in the way of private devotion there. And yet he overcame them all; and many, many a time has he spoken in our class prayer-meetings of the necessity of strict devotion to our Bibles and closets,—duties which students are apt to neglect. Last September I spent a few days with him at Hadley; and a little card he gave me then has been my constant companion since. Many a time have I taken comfort from it, and hope to many times yet. On it was printed, ‘If you want to be miserable, look within. If you want to be distracted, look around. If you want to be happy, look to Christ.’ How faithfully did he look to Christ! And Christ has now taken him to live with Him.”
III.
IN COLLEGE.
The transition from school to college was very pleasant to him. “I am having a grand time,” he wrote; “heaps of pleasant occupation; just enough work in getting my lessons to make it interesting, and manly fellows to associate with, who have some experience of life, in place of those narrow-minded little scatter-wits of —— School memory. Up here you hear the question, How can he write? or, Is he a deep man? Is he a solid scholar, or a mere dig? Is he a fellow of principle? etc., etc., instead of, Is he handsome? Does he dress well? How much money has he? or, Will he stand treat? My mind has a chance to get well waked up.”
By nature he was full of energy; and full occupation was essential to his happiness.
In his Bible he had pasted the following extract from Sir Fowell Buxton: “The longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference between men, between the feeble and the powerful, the great and the insignificant, is energy,—invincible determination; a purpose once fixed, and then ‘death or victory.’ That quality will do anything that can be done in this world; and no talents, no circumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature a man without it.”
Into his endeavors to get the full benefit of out-door exercise he carried this energy, while on the Hudson River, and also at Williamstown. He delighted in the scenery among our mountains, and often went on rambles of five, ten, and sometimes twenty miles or more. He was a close observer of nature, and often indulged in lively descriptions of what he saw.