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No words were necessary from him in his last moments. His tokens of affection had been distributed before he left home. When an order for an advance came, he had written, ‘I am very glad of it. . . . . I am ready. Feel as little concerned about me as you can. Commend me to God, and I will try and commend myself to him.’ He was ready, not merely to fight, but to die. Not in a spirit of reckless daring or braggadocio did he say this. He did not know from experience what such feelings were. He wrote, moved by the solemn conviction that he was in the path of duty, his heart throbbing with a patriotic devotion that shrank at no sacrifice for his country's good.

‘Let the war go on,’ he says, ‘let it take all that it needs, until the Rebellion is utterly crushed. Yet there was no extravagance in his nature. Modesty, gentleness, fidelity, conscientiousness, were his characteristics. He distrusted himself almost too much. Partly this, and more, perhaps, the conviction which he thus expresses,—There are old soldiers by the thousand in the army who deserve commissions.’ —prevented his fielding to the entreaties of friends and seeking a higher position; and we cannot help honoring the feelings which prompted the words, ‘If I can engage in one good victorious battle, my place in the ranks is good enough for me.’ We think of what our classmate was, of his excellent ability as a scholar, and of the weight of his character as a man and a Christian, and picture to ourselves what he might have been in his chosen profession,—honored, useful, and happy,—happy rather in usefulness than in honors. We then recall the last words of his autobiography,—‘My success is sure,’—and then his early and sudden death. Is this the success of which he was so confident? we ask. Yes, true success; for he wrote not in arrogance or selfsufficiency, but with a calm, steady purpose ever to do and to suffer the will of Him whom he rejoiced to call Master and Saviour. Thus as he looked forward into the future, the tomb was no barrier to real success; death was no disappointment, but rather the entrance upon the consummation of his soul's highest hopes.

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