The future life was never far from his thoughts. Nearly a year before, he wrote thus: “I find myself, in my most blessed hours, looking forward with pleasure to meeting father’s parents hereafter. And, as in childhood each new friend bound us to earth, so it seems to be the order of Providence, in advancing years, to draw us by one tie and another towards heaven. I can but think that we shall find peculiar bliss in meeting and associating with those loved most and best on earth. Various hints in the Bible show us that there is no loss of individuality; and if Christ’s love, as shown to us in our earthly pilgrimage, is to be our song in heaven, why may we not suppose that the love which he has shown us through the agency of our friends, will draw us closer to those friends in the world to come? I like to think that the Christian is living for eternity in his friendships, in his self-cultivation, and in his efforts for others; and that he is beginning a work, and cultivating a taste, for pleasures which shall continue to advance and to please for ever. There may be music in heaven; there will be society: above all, there will be love.
“About my eyes: If I find it advisable to go into some business, shall I not do more for mankind, with God’s blessing, than I could do in the ministry with weak eyes? Still a business man can not be a student. Well, Rufus Landholm, Brother & Co. had poverty to struggle against in toiling for an education. I have weak eyes, and a chance of poverty too, perhaps, if I am many more years preparing; still, perhaps, something like their pluck will give me an education. I am resolved to try.”
Nevertheless the weak eyes would not become strong.
V.
DELEGATE OF CHRISTIAN COMMISSION.
Convinced that the usual course of study for a profession was thus indefinitely postponed, and feeling a deep sympathy for his country and our brave soldiers, he determined to renew the offer of his services to the Christian Commission; and early in October, 1864, was sent to Louisville, Kentucky, where for four weeks he was unremitting in his labors. From Louisville he wrote: “I am having too good a time now. I find the delegates splendid fellows; rough in manners, but earnest, whole-souled Christians. I hope that I may profit much by being here. My mind is in a constant flutter from seeing so many new faces and strange sights. To tell you all were impossible; but I will speak of a few things. I went first across the river to Jeffersonville, and thence a mile or two to Joe Holt’s Hospital. This is more than a thousand feet square, and is a collection of wooden barracks, on each side of a well-graded street, with board sidewalks some five feet higher than the street, all in the pink of neatness. The convalescents bask in the sunshine before the ward doors, and within each ward are neat beds lining each wall: everything clean, airy, and comfortable. We found not over three hundred patients in all. We passed from man to man, giving each an Independent, or soldier’s paper, with a kind word of advice or sympathy, and found them very grateful to get them. I came home, and in the evening, went to the prison barracks, where one hundred and fifty prisoners are strewn over two rooms, so thickly that as they squat on the floor they touch each other. We had a little meeting here, in the midst of filth and ‘gray-backs,’ and found them very eager listeners. They begged us to come again. They have their own prayer-meeting every evening, with their little hymn-books. Singing is a great thing. Frank, Alice, everybody, learn to sing. The first thing I heard was, ‘You can sing religion into them twice as fast as you can talk it into them. Can you start your own tunes?—it’s half.’ Singing is the rallying cry. They flock together when a tune is started. Poor creatures! it is the only pure pleasure they know, to sing the old home tunes. I think I could write twelve hours and not tell you half. I could scare you, too, by telling you how many rebels are here, and how wild work war makes. But I think we are perfectly safe here.
“I wish you could see the colored soldiers: such listeners! They seem magnetized, and hardly breathe while you address them.”
A month later he writes: “I leave this afternoon for Nashville. I hope God’s approval will sanction this change, and that it is not the result of impatient restlessness. I feel as if I had just commenced this work; and as I find the best of the delegates are increasingly fascinated with it, I hope that I shall cultivate a taste for it. It is still quite an effort to me; yet I am often interested and encouraged by tokens of feeling and gratitude in those I deal with. I find it agreeable and profitable to come in contact with so many men. The delegates are coming through here all the time, and, as a rule, are wide-awake, well-educated men. Mr. —— is a perfect genius in the rough; smart, pushing, funny, and democratic in his style of speaking, writing, thinking, and walking.”
From Nashville he wrote: “I have N.’s offer of a commission in the army. I have thought and prayed over it, and concluded that I had better remain in the Christian Commission. I am already here. I know I can do good—perhaps all the good I am capable of doing; and to take a commission would be an experiment. I am inclined to think that a delegate, a permanent delegate, can do as much good as a chaplain; for the chaplain is compelled to move with the army. I trust God has guided me into this decision, and shall endeavor to dismiss the subject from my mind. We have sweet music in the evening here. The delegates are very pleasant.”
Dec. 1, he wrote: “Nashville is stirring to-day; Hood within fifteen miles; cannonading quite audible. Was up from eleven last night till half-past four this morning, unloading the wounded. This morning the whole army is crowding into town.”
Dec. 7: “I think you would be interested if you went round with me one day. This week I have been going across the Cumberland, to our cavalry on the other side. I take two hundred religious papers, one ream of paper, three hundred soldiers’ books, and spend all day distributing them. I have to walk two or three miles, so I dine with the boys on hard-tack and beans, and don’t get home till supper-time. Last evening I spent in teaching some little colored children to read. One of them said that Adam lived in the garden of Egypt. We hear cannon thundering day and night. The fight at Spring Hill was a terrible affair. The rebels charged three times with determined hardihood. We came near losing our whole army, but finally repulsed them.”