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[135] Her arrival occasioned some excitement. She looks very well. I had the pleasure of speaking to her after the service had ended. Her face, as always, seemed like sunshine.

Bishop Johns preached for us two very good sermons. They were simple, earnest, faithful proposals of Christ to his hearers. I enjoyed them both very much, and hope they did good to all.

Much love to one and all, but especially to you, my devoted mother.

From your son,

Hugh.

On his election to the captaincy of his company he wrote to his father as follows:

The result surprised me greatly. I had hoped for nothing higher than the lieutenancy, and was not confident of that. But the question was decided in my favor, and with much fear I accept the position. I do not expect any increase of happiness, but an increase of responsibility, leading to much perplexity and toil. The care, the kindness, the ceaseless effort called for, will greatly increase my need of help from the grace of God. To this source I look, praying that by example and by effort the men may become good soldiers and good Christians. I ask that all at home will pray that I may be fitted for the position I now hold.

On the same subject he writes to his brother Henry:

Promotion in itself brings neither peace nor happiness, and unless it increases one's usefulness it is a curse. An opportunity is now afforded for exerting a wider influence for good, and if enabled to improve this aright I shall then be happier than before. My life is now given to the army, and will be spent in it, even to the end of the war. But if my life is spared to see the end, and we are successful in our struggle, it will be the delight of my heart to spend the remainder of it in the work of the ministry. I am not fond of the army. Indeed many things in it are hateful to me; but nothing is so much so as the invader of my native soil.

To a sister he writes:

Our life at present is so much better than it has been for several months that we are having a delightful time. It is true the sky is our roof and the earth our bed, but then it don't rain, and we are not marching; and when a box comes in from home,

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