This letter closes with the words, ‘If anything happens to me, remember I meant to do my duty.’
A month later, after giving a schedule of a day in camp, he says:—
One day treads closely on another, and variety is always at hand.
Here I give you the prose of it, the treadmill without the song.
But there is poetry in it, too. There is a sentiment which gives the impulse to this duty and hallows the effort.
I have been to Washington, and I return with a sort of desperate, teeth-set determination to do all I can in the sphere of my duty.
It seems to me that the country wants active, busy, self-forgetting endeavor.
After writing earnestly of the need of improvement in discipline and organization, throughout the army, he says:—
But out of this nettle I pluck one flower, namely, that I can be of service; and it cheers me to hope, that, by active and constant endeavor, I may, perhaps, do my small mite towards organization and efficiency.
I wish I could do more.
To will is present with me.
, in the remarks from which we have already quoted, says of him:—
To those who really knew him, his warmth of feeling was not less remarkable than his purity of principle and strength of character.
None but his intimate friends knew how much of his time was taken up in acts of kindness and charity.
From the time he became a soldier, he was devoted to the care of his men, both as a matter of military judgment and of right feeling; in this, as in other things, showing how his intellect and his heart worked together.
Did these limits permit, there could be furnished from his letters many illustrations of the interest he took in everything which could promote the comfort of the men. A few extracts must suffice.
On August 3d, ‘in bivouac on Maryland