LIBMRY OF CONGRESS. # 
 
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 I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. | 
 
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THE BUGLE CALL; 
 
 ^0^1^ 
 
 OR, 
 
 A SUMMONS TO WORK IN CHRIST'S 
 ARMY. 
 
 BY 
 
 A VOLUNTEER NURSE. 
 
 ^W. s. 1<^^._,^ 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 
 
 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 / 5 , ■ 
 

 Entered accord^nq to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by the 
 AMERICAN Tract Society, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress 
 at Washington. 
 
Dear Reader, did you ever hear the bugle 
 call in camp? If so, did it not rouse all the 
 martial spirit within you to fall into the 
 ranks, and do your duty? Thus I felt, when 
 I heard it. 
 
 And now I write this little volume with 
 the earnest desire and hope, that all who 
 read it may be so stirred by its martial 
 sounds, that they will no longer be able to 
 resist the summons to "fall into the ranks," 
 and do their duty in the Army of the Lord. 
 
 " The bugle call, the bugle call, 
 That sound ouce more I hear ; 
 Rouse, brothers, comrades, friends, arouse, 
 Fall in ! the foe is near.' 
 
 Dedicated to the memory of one 
 Whose life was " living for Christ," 
 Whose death was " dying in Christ," 
 And whose dying injunction was, 
 "Work for Christ." 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 Tlie Embarkation page 7 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 At Fortress Monroe 22 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 At City Point - 32 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 OnDavids' Island 48 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Daily Eoutine 04 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 A New Eecruit ■ 75 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Double Tent 89 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 In tlie Pavilions 100 
 
 • CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Two Davids 113 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Tlie Young Physician 130 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Farewell to the Island 140 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Conclusion -»- 150 
 
THE BUGLE CALL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE EMBARKATION. 
 
 ;ROBABLY no woman who 
 took any part in our late 
 civil war will ever forget the 
 strong impressions left upon her 
 mind by what she then saw and 
 heard. My own impressions are as 
 vivid as though it were but yesterday 
 that I had passed through those stirring 
 events ; and those which I am now at- 
 tempting to relate will be wholly and 
 entirely true, precisely as I saw and felt 
 
8 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 them, save that, after the lapse of more 
 than eight years, I can scarcely do them 
 justice. 
 
 My early experiences were somewhat 
 peculiar, I had long desired to go the 
 front as an army nurse, but circum- 
 stances beyond my control had prevent- 
 ed. Since our national struggle had 
 commenced, I had been drinking deeply 
 of the cup of sorrow, and now believed 
 that not only would my sorrow be di- 
 minished by seeing it in the light of the 
 heavier woes and sorrows of others, but 
 that I might be able to comfort them by 
 ''the comfort wdierewith I had been 
 comforted of Grod ;" and I longed so 
 earnestly to preach the gospel of the 
 loving Saviour to those who were en- 
 gaged in this great struggle, that I could 
 no longer forbear. 
 
 God made the way plain for me to go ; 
 and when my application was made to 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 9 
 
 the examining physician of the United 
 States Sanitary Commission, and the 
 simple questions were put as to my qual- 
 ifications as a nurse, then did I realize 
 the sacrifices attending the work. And 
 was I quite willing to encounter them ? 
 ''I am willing to die in the w^ork, if 
 necessary," I replied. Then, "Will you 
 go to-morrow on the clipper ship St. 
 Mark ? " Accordingly, on the morrow I 
 started. Yet, on looking back now, I can 
 see that at that time I had not a full 
 realization of the work before me ; only 
 an intense desire to preach a living, lov- 
 ing Saviour to dying men. 
 
 Our vessel lay in New York harbor, 
 near the Battery. Accompanying us 
 was a large Sound steamer, which had 
 been fitted up for hospital purposes by 
 the Sanitary Commission, and was to 
 tow us out. I had been formally in- 
 stalled into office as volunteer nurse on 
 
10 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 the St. Mark, and had been properly in- 
 troduced by the physicians. We were 
 about separating from the steamer, be- 
 side which we had hitherto been lying, 
 when suddenly I exclaimed, "Shall we 
 go all the way with the steamer?" 
 "Probably not,'' was the reply. "She 
 will go at least to Harrison's Landing, 
 while we shall remain at Fortress Mon- 
 roe." Great disappointment must have 
 been depicted upon my countenance, for 
 one of our kind, gentlemanly officers 
 stepped forward and said, "I think yon 
 can still go with the steamer if you will 
 permit us to jump you over the hurri- 
 cane deck ; but we shall have no time 
 for introductions." "Anything, any- 
 thing," was my hurried response, "so 
 that I can go to the front." 
 
 Accordingly the steamer was hailed, 
 and I was lifted over the railino;, while the 
 kind officer called out, "Dr. M , this 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 11 
 
 is Mrs. B , a volunteer nurse, who 
 
 wishes to be transferred to your steam- 
 er." Then the vessels parted, and I was 
 left standing entirely alone among stran- 
 gers. My position was an embarrassing 
 one, yet not long was I permitted to 
 feel its embarrassment. But a moment 
 elapsed before a gentleman stepped for- 
 ward, inquiring my name, and with the 
 greatest courtesy introduced me to all 
 on board. We were no longer strangers. 
 Our cause, our work was the same. "We 
 had a common country, a common Sav- 
 iour. Our party consisted of four fe- 
 male nurses besides myself — a party of 
 thoroughly earnest-hearted women ; one 
 gentleman, of whom no less can be said 
 than of the ladies ; twenty-five doctors ; 
 and quite a large number of delicate 
 soldiers, who were sent on board of the 
 Sanitary boats for a few trips, that they 
 might recruit in health, and were de- 
 
12 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 tailed as nurses. Thus we started from 
 the harbor on a beautiful July morning, 
 in the summer of 1862. Now came the 
 dreaded sea-sickness. Who of my read- 
 ers has ever attempted to resist that ter- 
 rible sickness, and with what success? 
 It ig so'mething I have no desire to de- 
 scribe. Suffice it to say that, after try- 
 ing bravely to fight it off, and finding all 
 the remedies we had provided ineffec- 
 tual, one after another we were obliged 
 to yield, and retire to our stale-rooms, 
 there to remain until we became ac- 
 customed to the rolling motion of the 
 vessel. 
 
 Sunday morning came, a bright Sab- 
 bath morning as ever shone, and I de- 
 termined to rise from my bed and look 
 about to see what work the Master had 
 for me to do. I tried to make my sick- 
 ness an excuse for not rising, for how 
 I then dreaded to hemn the work I I 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 13 
 
 approached a lad wlio was playing 
 checkers, thinking I would find it less 
 embarrassing to address a boy than a 
 man, and said, "What, my boy, play- 
 ing checkers on Sunday?'' A sweet, 
 boyish face was upturned to mine. 
 "Why, is it Sunday, ma'am?" "Yes, 
 had you forgotten it?" "I had. The 
 fact is, I have been so long in the army 
 I have lost the run of the Sabbaths." 
 "Were you ever a Sunday-school boy?" 
 The sweet face brightened at this ques- 
 tion. " Oh yes, indeed, and loved my 
 Sunday-school, and loved my teacher.'^ 
 "Where?" " In Brooklyn." " To whose 
 Sunday-school class did you belong ? " 
 
 "Why, good, kind Mr. M ; in St. 
 
 Ann's church." "Ah, I know him," I 
 replied ; " but what would he say to see 
 his Sunday-school boy playing checkers 
 on Sunday? And what would good Dr. 
 C say? " The bridit youno; face fell 
 
14 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 at this question. "Would you like me 
 to go back to Brooklyn and tell Mr. 
 M that I saw one of his Sunday- 
 school boys playing checkers on Sun- 
 day?" ''No, no; oh do not tell him. 
 But what shall I do with myself all day 
 Sunday? The day is bo long." "Can 
 you sing? " I said. "Oh yes, ma'am." 
 " Then I will tell you what you can do. 
 If you will shut up your checker-board, 
 and promise me not to open it again on 
 
 Sunday, I will tell that to Mr. M , 
 
 and I will provide you with a Testament 
 and some nice little hymn-books. Call 
 all the boys together you can find ; read 
 the Testament aloud ; sing all the hymns 
 you know together ; then you will soon 
 feel as if Sabbath had come back to you 
 again. After to-day, count all the days, 
 ever remembering that the seventh day 
 is the Lord's." 
 
 The checker-board was immediately 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. l5 
 
 closed, the promise given, and from that 
 moment Eobbie and I became fast friends. 
 
 Then I passed on with a heavy heart 
 to find other work to do ; for I must con- 
 fess I had a nervous horror of approach- 
 ing the men with what I supposed they 
 would term religious cant. Still, had I 
 not come for this very purpose ? Should 
 I shrink back now ? Did Jesus shrink 
 from bearing the heavy cross for me ? 
 Should I shrink from bearino; this lio;ht 
 one for him ? No, I must go forward. 
 Our cook (a detailed soldier, also) was 
 lying sick on one of the cot-beds. I 
 said, " Can I do anything for you? Are 
 you ill ? '' I suppose he saw the look 
 of sympathy in my face, for his heart 
 seemed immediately to open to me ; and 
 we talked long and quietly, I drawing out 
 from him all his sorrows, and in return 
 telling him of the tender, gracious Saviour. 
 
 In a day or two he was better ; and 
 
16 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 our head lady-nurse came to me and 
 said, "I believe our cook would spend 
 half the day making something to tempt 
 your appetite. What have you done to 
 thus win his regard ? " Ah, it was not 
 what I had done, but what the Saviour 
 had done that drew that simple-hearted 
 man to me. 
 
 Thus encouraged, I passed on, gain- 
 ing courage at every step. Dear read- 
 er, believe me, few will turn away from 
 any appeal made at the proper time, and 
 in a proper manner, on behalf of the 
 dear, loving Saviour. Few cases there 
 are in Avhich the act is not appreciated, 
 even if the offer is not accepted. Few 
 hearts there are that can quite trample 
 on that unselfish, God-man love. It 
 must appeal to everything that is noble 
 in man's nature. I think in all my ex- 
 perience I have never met with more 
 than two or three rebuffs. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 17 
 
 Tlirongli the day, occasionally, I heard 
 sweet sounds on the steamer, that made 
 me think of home and Sunday-school ; 
 but being unable to locate them, and ab- 
 sorbed in my work, I did not give them 
 a second thought. Late in the after- 
 noon, when tired, and resting from my 
 labors, gratitude arising to God that he 
 had put it into my heart to do this work, 
 and that he had put it into the hearts of 
 the men to receive me so kindly, I heard 
 a light step behind me, and a quiet voice 
 
 saying, "Mrs. B , did you hear us?" 
 
 "Hear what, Robbie?" I replied, look- 
 ing up. " Wh}^, hear us singing ? We 
 boys all sang and read the Bible togeth- 
 er. Did not you hear us? Oh, we 
 have had such a nice day. Will you 
 please, when you go back to Brooklyn, 
 see my Sunday-school teacher and tell 
 him that?" "I will, Robbie, never fear." 
 "And, Mrs. B , when we reach Fort 
 
18 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 Monroe, I expect to see my little broth- 
 er, who is a clrummer-boy. I will bring 
 him on board to see yon.-' '' What ! " I 
 exclaimed in astonishment, "one young- 
 er than yon in the service?" "Oh yes, 
 ma'am ; and he wouldn't go home for 
 anything. Do not say anything against 
 it to mother, if you should see her when 
 you go home. We both love the service." 
 On board of our steamer were several 
 colored people. I hardly knew what 
 had brought them there. While most 
 of the sick people were resting after 
 dinner, I drew them together, and, tak- 
 ing my Bible and hymn-book, held a 
 little religious service. It was touching 
 to see with what childlike simplicity 
 they received it — all fairly drinking it 
 in. I had read of their having such 
 vivid imaginations, but never did I real- 
 ize it until now. I purposely read to 
 them from Revelation of the new Jeru- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 19 
 
 salem. "Ah, clat 's it, clat 's it," they 
 would exclaim, " cle golden streets, de 
 gates of pearl ; tiiiks I sees him now. 
 Lord, may I enter in ! '' 
 
 Yes, Lord, for such thou hast died, 
 even for these poor, degraded children 
 of thine. Hast thou not said, "Whoso- 
 ever receiveth not this gospel as a little 
 child, he cannot enter therein''? Yea, 
 Lord, we believe many of this suffering 
 race shall enter in, and walk the streets 
 of the new Jerusalem, clad in garments 
 of white, and singing their favorite song 
 of " Glory to the Lamb " — the dear Lamb 
 who died for them. Thank God, vy e trust 
 their days of degradation and darkness 
 are over. 
 
 In the evening, one of our doctors, 
 who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, 
 came for me to go down stairs and hear 
 tliem sing, or rather chant, in their own 
 peculiar plantation style. It was wild 
 
20 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 enough. My own sense of the ludicrous 
 caused me to smile, and jet the scene 
 made me sad. They were chanting, in 
 a low sort of monotone, words like these, 
 as I approached : 
 
 " De milk-white horses, and de milk- 
 white horses, and de milk-white horses, 
 come go lang wid me. Good mornin', 
 John de Baptist, good mornin', John de 
 Baptist ; de church-bells are ringing ; 
 come go lang wid me." 
 
 This was accompanied with a low 
 stamping of the feet, and swaying of the 
 body to and fro. Their singing was not 
 without some approach to melody, yet it 
 was inexpressibly sad to see such ignor- 
 ance ; and I asked myself, "Will not 
 the Saviour accept the feeble attempts 
 of these darkened minds at worship, and 
 sometime lead them into the higher and 
 purer light of his love?'' I could not 
 doubt it. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 21 
 
 Soon was the Lord to bring to them a 
 freedom from bondage, under which, as a 
 people, they had long lived ; and might 
 we not hope that he, too, would bring 
 them out of their deeper moral dark- 
 ness, and lead them into the full light 
 and freedom of his love — "the liberty 
 wherewith Christ maketh his children 
 free"? 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 AT FORTRESS MONROE. 
 
 HE following morning we 
 reached Fortress Monroe, and 
 as that great fortification loomed 
 up in the distance, we began to 
 realize that w^e were approach- 
 ing the seat of war. And now we were 
 told to lie by and await further orders. 
 At the North, we had as 3^et really seen 
 but little of the war ; but few of our sick 
 men had been sent home ; and though 
 our hearts were filled with anxiety, the 
 reality had not seemed to come within 
 our very borders, as it had in the homes 
 of our Southern people. But here every- 
 thing bore the impress of w^ar, bloody, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 23 
 
 fearful war : the tremendous fortification ; 
 the Rip Raps in the distance ; gun-boats 
 lying here and there, ready for any 
 emergency ; the sanitary boats coming 
 and going, laden with sick men and hos- 
 pital stores ; officials in military dress 
 bustling about, as though intent upon 
 important business — everything the eye 
 rested upon bore written on it in glow- 
 ing characters, "war! war!" All, save 
 beautiful nature, which never seemed 
 more beautiful to me than at that sad 
 time. 
 
 We visited the fort, studied all its im- 
 plements of war, and returned to our 
 vessel, praying God that this struggle 
 between brethren might soon come to an 
 end. Little did we then dream of the 
 many dark days in store for our nation, 
 before the conflict would be over, and 
 the sun of peace once more shine upon 
 our bleeding land. Yes, we were yet to 
 
24 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 be put ill a much hotter furnace; many 
 more bitter struggles were we to go to 
 through, many more wives were to be 
 widowed, many more parents made child- 
 less, many more homes to be darkened, 
 before we were to come out of the strug- 
 gle seven times purified. Thank God, 
 we did not know it then, for how could 
 we have borne it? Thank God, it is 
 over now, and I am writing of the past, 
 not the present. God grant that our 
 beloved land may never again know 
 such a fratricidal struggle. 
 
 ' ' The toilsome march, and the deadly fight, 
 The prison's gloom and its noisome blight, 
 The dread malaria's poisonous breath 
 Filled up the ghastly ranks of death. 
 Quenched for aye was each life's sweet light, 
 Manhood's high noon, youth's promise bright ; 
 But the blood that bathed our land anew 
 Was Heaven's own purifying dew. " 
 
 After a few days we were ordered to 
 go to Harrison's Landing. This was 
 welcome news to all. We soon steamed 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 25 
 
 up, and were on our way thither, and 
 glad were our eyes when they resled on 
 the long lines of white tents, looking 
 like a city of cottages in the distance. 
 Horn antic enough was the scene to look 
 upon, but sad indeed were the stories 
 that the boys in these tents could have 
 breathed in our ears, stories of sickness, 
 defeats, and discouragements. But let 
 me not forestall my story. To the front 
 indeed we went. Almost all of our 
 party had friends in the service, and 
 some of us very dear friends, who had 
 seen death in nearly every form since 
 they had bidden us farewell in our homes. 
 These officers came with ambulances, and 
 giving us a good military escort, took us 
 to the very outworks, as far as we could 
 go. It was a strange experience this, 
 and in spite of our surroundings, we en- 
 tered into it with a keen enjoyment. I 
 said to one of the officers, " Why do the 
 
26 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 men gaze so earnestly at us? Is tliero 
 anything peculiar in our appearance ?" 
 "Nothing, except that you are ladies; 
 and it is now nearly nine months since 
 the eyes of our boys have been glad- 
 dened by the sight of a lady." So we 
 let them gaze as the}^ pleased, and smiled 
 and bowed to all we passed : it was but 
 a poor return to give them a smile, when 
 they were giving their lives. 
 
 We passed some pleasant da^'s there, 
 one day dining in the tent of one of our 
 officer friends, and having vvhat they 
 called a splendid dinner. What would 
 they have said if we had given them 
 such a dinner in their own homes, and 
 called it splendid ? Notwithstanding, 
 we did eat it with a good relish. Again 
 we went to the camp to take tea with 
 another officer, and waited to see the 
 evening parade, to hear the bugle sound, 
 and to hear that sound echo and reecho. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 27 
 
 and c(3me up from one camp after another, 
 then to see the lights gradually disap- 
 pear, and return to our steamer hom^ 
 with a new sort of a realization of what 
 camp life meant. 
 
 This, however, was the bright side of 
 camp life ; those boys in the tents knew 
 there was another and a darker side. 
 Yet the scene was to me singularly fas- 
 cinating. Night after night I would re- 
 tire to my state-room as the sun went 
 down, to watch from the window what 
 was going on in the camp: watch them 
 bring the horses down to the river side 
 to be watered ; perhaps catch the sougs 
 of the men, as they were sitting in their 
 tents, or having some sport together. 
 Then see that which always brought the 
 tears to my eyes^ — the orderlies bring 
 down the horses of our officer friends, 
 and they mount and ride back to the 
 camp. We did not know at what mo- 
 
28 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 ment we might be ordered away ; and 
 when they lelt us, it was with the con- 
 sciousness that we might never look upon 
 their faces again in this world ; the next 
 battle might be their last. The morning 
 sun would dispel these sad thoughts, as 
 we would find ourselves lying quietly 
 close to camp. 
 
 But the parting da}^ did come. One 
 beautiful Sunday afternoon — never shall 
 I forget it — we received government 
 orders to go up to City Point, and bring 
 home our exchanged prisoners ; and as 
 we were going within the hostile lines, a 
 gunboat would attend us. This looked 
 rather exciting, and I must confess, rather 
 pleasing also ; for though we were going 
 under a flag of truce, we looked for some 
 stray shots through the foliage on the 
 banks of the river. No fears, however, 
 need to have been entertained, for our 
 sail was without an adventure of any 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 29 
 
 kind ; but as the eye wandered from one 
 side of the river to the other, its banks 
 so rich in their summer foliage, we asked 
 ourselves, " Why must this, our beauti- 
 ful country, be thus devastated by war, 
 and brother turn against brother ?" 
 
 . As we neared the Point, what a sight 
 met my eyes! How can I describe it? 
 My pen shrinks from recording it. I had 
 seen soldiers many times, bright, well- 
 dressed, healthy-looking soldiers — and 
 did not fear their touch — but who were 
 these, this motley croAvd on the wharf, 
 straining their eyes to watch our ap- 
 proach ? Were these, could these be the 
 brave men who had left us only a few 
 months since, full of life and vigor ? 
 These half-clad, wan, neglected-looking 
 creatures, men whose touch one would 
 shrink from anywhere, can these be our 
 husbands, brothers, friends, who so lately 
 left us, in the full glow of health and 
 
30 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 iiiauliood ? They are, the}^ are, the very 
 same ; and this was the first fruits of 
 war, dreadful war ! My heart died within 
 me. I shrank back from all these sick- 
 ening sights. Now I realized what my 
 work was, and I broke down and cried 
 like a woman, not like an army nurse. 
 "Why did I come," 1 said, "to take 
 the place of some strong-minded nurse, 
 who could endure that which I am too 
 cowardly to meet?" I fled to ray state- 
 room, and there poured out my soul in 
 prayer to Grod for grace and strength 
 to do my dut3^ Then I rose from my 
 knees and hastened down stairs, not giv- 
 inor myself a moment's time to think. I 
 was put in charge of the surgical ward, 
 and told to feed my patients with a very 
 little food at first, as they were so worn 
 by captivity and sickness that the stom- 
 ach would endure but little. This I 
 did at once : there was no shrinkin.o; 
 
T-HE BUGLE CALL. 31 
 
 now ; all weakness had fled, and I could 
 sit right on the conch of the sufferer, 
 who might be indescribably repulsive, 
 without a thought that it was distasteful 
 to me, only rejoicing that I was permit- 
 ted to do this for my countrymen and 
 my God. How we worked that Sab- 
 bath evening ! for the darkness had set- 
 tled upou us before our sick were all 
 on board ; and then how we labored 
 to make them comfortable. Some said : 
 ^' Do n't feed me ; I cannot eat with these 
 lilthy garments on." "You must, for 
 you have not the strength now to have 
 them changed.'' 
 
 After feeding them as best we could, 
 we withdrew while their tattered gar- 
 ments were replaced by clean clothing. 
 What a change on our return ! The 
 soiled garments were thrown overboard, 
 and our sick men lay cheerfully await- 
 ing another supply of food. We worked 
 
32 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 with them until eleven o'clock, when we 
 retired to our state-rooms. I had so 
 entirely forgotten everything else, in my 
 excitement with my patients, that I sat 
 down to do some little sewing neces- 
 sary for the morrow, quite forgetting, 
 as "Robbie" had, that it was the Sab- 
 bath. 
 
 The next morning one said to me, 
 " What do you suppose you ladies seem- 
 ed to us men like, last night ?" "I have 
 no idea," was my reply. "Angels," he 
 said ; "I could only keep repeating. 
 They must be angels, not w^omen." "No, 
 not angels, my friend ; only poor weak 
 women, who are thankful for the privi- 
 lege of doing something for the brave 
 boys who have done so much for them." 
 

 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 AT CITY POINT. 
 
 ^ HE next morning we were m- 
 f^ formed by our head physician 
 
 that our boat had passed into 
 government hands, and that we 
 shoukl have the charge of our 
 sick men but a few days, as when we 
 reached Fortress Monroe the}^ were all 
 to be transferred to the St. Mark ; our 
 steamer was to be used for government 
 purposes, and we were to be sent home 
 by land. This was anything but wel- 
 come news to us. It is a common say- 
 ing that we soon learn to love any ob- 
 ject for which we make sacrifices, and 
 we found already that our hearts were 
 
 Bugle Call. 3 
 
34 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 beginning to go out to oiir jioor sick 
 boys, as well as theirs to us. The two 
 most repulsive patients in my ward were 
 the two who seemed to need the most of 
 my attention ; and it was astonishing 
 how so'on everything repulsive was for- 
 gotten by me in my great anxiety for 
 their salvation. I knew that they could 
 not survive their wounds, and that I 
 must work faithfully, for the time was 
 short. 
 
 I went to the first; he was suffering 
 intensely from a wound in the back, and 
 life in prison had aggravated the case 
 fearfully. Poor fellow! it was sad to 
 hear his moans. I approached him and 
 kindly inquired what I could do. "Noth- 
 ing, I fear," was the reply, and I soon 
 saw that human aid could indeed avail 
 but little. "Poor boy," I said, "I hope 
 you have learned to look to your Saviour 
 for comfort, for you need his love now 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 35 
 
 sorely." ''No, ma'am, I can't say that 
 I have. I know bnt little of religion 
 anyway ; I am a Roman Catholic." 
 "Well," I said, "if you are a Catholic, 
 that need not hinder you from loving the 
 Saviour." "But I hardly know any- 
 thing about him, ma'am." "Shall I tell 
 3^ou?" "Oh, yes, do." I opened my 
 Bible and read of the loving Saviour 
 crucified for sinners. Then I read from 
 the fourteenth chapter of John, "In my 
 father's house are many mansions, I go to 
 prepare a place for 3^ou ;" etc. " Stop," 
 he said; "what book is that?" "The 
 Bible." "Are you reading that out of 
 the Bible?" "I am." "May I see it 
 with my own eyes ?" I handed him the 
 book, laying my finger on the passage. 
 "Read it once more." I complied with 
 his request. "Strange that I should 
 never have seen that before." "There 
 it is," I replied ; " read it again for 
 
36- THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 yourself." ''Will you give me tliat 
 Testament, and turn down the leaf so 
 that I can find it again for myself?" " I 
 will." Then I told him all— the love, 
 the life, the death, and the resurrection 
 of the dear, human and divine Saviour. 
 How eagerly he drank it all in ; the wan 
 face grew excited, the hollow eyes 
 burned with an intense lustre, and then 
 and there, I believe, he became the 
 Lord's. The tired body and fainting 
 soul rested in that revelation of divine 
 love to sinners. I left him to ponder 
 over what he had heard, and passed on 
 to others who needed my care. 
 
 I saw on another cot-bed in the dis- 
 tance a pair of wistful looking eyes fol- 
 lowing me as I moved about with an 
 expression of longing for rest. I ap- 
 proached, and found the case somewhat 
 similar to the other. Both were sink- 
 ing slowly from the effects of unhealed 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. '37 
 
 wounds ; the balls could not be removed, 
 the discharge therefore continued, and 
 was carrying away the life with it in 
 both cases. 
 
 I had often heard that there were 
 plenty of heathens in our owai gospel 
 land, but hitherto I had never seen them. 
 Here was one before me. "I am very 
 sick," he said. "Yes, but I hope you have 
 the comfort of Jesus' love." "Jesus, 
 Jesus, w^ho is he ?" Was he lightheaded ? 
 What could this mean? " Why, Jesus, 
 the Saviour," I replied ; "do you not 
 
 know who he v/as ?" "Why, no, I never 
 
 • 
 
 heard of him before." " Where have 
 3^ou lived?" "In Boston, all my life." 
 " Lived in the very heart of a Christian 
 city like Boston, and have never heard 
 of Jesus?" Was it possible? Could such 
 a thing be? Christians, why have 
 we been sleeping, how can we sleep, 
 when there is a world of perishing sin- 
 
38 THE BUGLE CALL, 
 
 ners around us? "Have you never 
 been to Sunday-school ?" I asked. "No, 
 ma'am ; never have been asked to go to 
 such places." Where, should T com- 
 mence ? What should I say ? Simply 
 and earnestly again I told of Jesus' love ; 
 and just as simply, just as earnestly, 
 was it received. He loved his mother 
 with an idolizing love ; and from this 
 point 1 started, telling him of the dearer, 
 tenderer love of Jesus ; and the tender, 
 loving Saviour opened the heart of the 
 poor dying boy to take in these sweet 
 truths clearly and rapidly. I produced 
 my little Testament again and read 
 therefrom, his whole soul absorbed in 
 trying to comprehend the freeness of 
 salvation. Then came the same request : 
 "May I have it for my own?'' "You 
 may." "Will you write your name in 
 it, because if I live to get home I shall 
 want to think of you, and to look often 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 39 
 
 at your name written with your own 
 hand.'' Poor boy, he would never reach 
 his earthly home, but I trusted he would 
 reach a better and a heavenly country, 
 where he would wait to welcome me 
 when I came. 
 
 Others again claimed my attention, 
 but I felt that none needed me as did 
 these two — both singularly ignorant, 
 both seeking Jesus, and both rapidly 
 nearing another world. Others could 
 do without me, but I almost felt as if the 
 salvation of these two souls depended 
 upon my efforts. Often we talked to- 
 gether — often did I offer a quiet prayer, 
 leaning over those bedsides, while doc- 
 tors and nurses were bustling around 
 me ; but naught disturbed them while 
 hearing of Jesus' love. Sometimes their 
 pain would be so great that they would 
 moan aloud ; then I would say, " Can 
 you not be brave for Jesus' sake? He 
 
40 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 bore far more tlian this for you." The 
 moans would be hushed, the tears dried, 
 and the poor sufferers would try to bear 
 cheerfully pains that I knew must be 
 almost unendurable. 
 
 Soon came the day of parting with our 
 sick boys, and my heart died within me 
 at the thought. We drew up by the 
 side of the St. Mark, and they made 
 ready to receive our patients. All the 
 sick from the fever wards were removed 
 first ; our ward was to be the last. How 
 our poor bo3^s dreaded the parting, and 
 how they shrank from the agony of the 
 removal ! They were to be laid on 
 stretchers, carried to the hurricane deck, 
 then placed carefully in hammocks, to 
 be swung over the side of the vessel, 
 and then carried to their beds on the 
 St. Mark. It was a trying performance, 
 and one which the wounded sufferers 
 greatly dreaded. " Oh,'' said the Catho- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 41 
 
 lie boy, " I can never endure it; I shall 
 never see mother agam." " He will help 
 you/' I said; "and if you do not see 
 your mother and do not reach your 
 earthly home, are you not going to the 
 heavenly mansions Jesus has prepared 
 for you and me ? Pray for strength.'' 
 "I cannot; I am so frightened." The 
 nurses came for him. He refused to be 
 put on the stretcher. " Wait a few mo- 
 ments," I said; "leave him with me." 
 They brought him some strong milk- 
 punch, of which he drank ; then, while 
 they waited, I leaned over him and 
 prayed the dear Lord to give him cour- 
 age to endure. When I ceased he said, 
 " I will go now, I am stronger. Do not 
 leave me for a single instant ; walk by 
 my side, and as soon as I am on board 
 the vessel, come to me again." The 
 promise was readily given ; the poor 
 boy was carefully and tenderly carried, 
 
42 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 the hammock swung over, and he was 
 laid quietly in his cot on the St. Mark. 
 As soon as all were removed, wo 
 ' went on board to see our patients and 
 bid them farewell. I dreaded the scene, 
 but did not half realize what an ordeal 
 it would be. It was now growing quite 
 dark, and we could not discern which 
 were our own patients, until we would 
 
 hear one say, "Mrs. W , here am I 
 
 over in this corner.'' "Mrs. L , 
 
 here is your sick boy." "Mrs. B , 
 
 don't forget me ; Mrs. B ! Mrs. 
 
 B !" came over and over again from 
 
 two voices in one corner. I hastened to 
 the place, and found my two sick boys 
 lying side by side, both clasping tightly 
 the Testaments I had given them, from 
 which they would not be parted for 
 
 a single instant. "Mrs. B ," they 
 
 said, "how can we leave you? Wont 
 you ask the doctors to let you go 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 43 
 
 home ill this vessel?" "They cannot," 
 I replied ; "their number of nurses is 
 already complete ; they can take no 
 more." Then I heard the wish echoed 
 and reechoed from every side, until mj 
 heart sank within me at the thous^ht of 
 leaving them. "I will tell you what I 
 will do, boys," I said; "I shall reach 
 New York first, and when you arrive I 
 will come on board the vessel to see 
 you." This had to satisfy them, but it 
 did not satisfy me, for I feared the vessel 
 v/ould not go to New York, and that 
 this was my final farewell. Then I went 
 on my rounds. 
 
 One interesting young soldier, who 
 had been detailed as nurse on the Elm 
 City, had broken down entirely, and was 
 now to be sent home with the rest of the 
 patients. I had often wanted to speak 
 to him in regard to his state of mind, 
 but he seemed so reticent I had not the 
 
44 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 courage. I believe I have since learned 
 that those kind words are always well 
 received. He called me to his bedside 
 and said, '' I want to say good-by to you. 
 Can't you go with us ? I do not want to 
 part with you.'' " I would gladly go/' I 
 replied, "but cannot. Novf let me ask 
 you that which I have been trying to 
 find courage to ask you ever since I first 
 came on board the Elm City : Are you 
 a Christian?" " No, ma'am, bnt I would 
 like to be. I have wondered v/hy you 
 never spoke to me. I have watched you 
 earnestly, and often longed for you to 
 speak, but I have thought deeply. I am 
 from Maine, and I am going home ; but 
 I am going home to die. I am in deep 
 consumption." Every word smote me 
 to the heart. "Why had I, from foolish 
 fears, neglected thus the work God had 
 given me to do ! God helping me I 
 would repair the error now. We talked 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 45 
 
 long and earnestly 5 lie was all ready to 
 receive tlie gospel, just waiting, and I 
 think he accepted Christ then, if he had 
 not already done so. He held my hand 
 in a long farewell clasp, looking at me so 
 earnestly that I felt his words must be 
 true. " Good-by,'* he said, ''good-b}". 
 Oh, do not forget to pray for me. We 
 shall never meet in this world again, but 
 God grant that we may in the next." 
 lie wrung my hand, and I turned away 
 tears filling my eyes. I think when I 
 
 reach my last home I shall meet W 
 
 again. Thus I passed from one to an- 
 other, sorrow filling my heart at every 
 step. 
 
 Brave young Lieutenant G bade 
 
 me good-by, with the most earnest long- 
 ing that I should not leave the vessel. 
 
 "But," said he, "Mrs. B , the little 
 
 testament you gave me I promise to read 
 faithfully. I will try to fight the good 
 
46 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 fight of faith, and to lay hold on eternal 
 life. Some time I hope to get well, and 
 do something to show my gratitude for 
 your kindness to me." "There is but 
 one return you cati make, and that is to 
 commence now to fight that good fight of 
 faith ; so that, if you never win another 
 earthly victory, you may win the victory 
 over sin — which will at last open to you 
 the gates of everlasting glory — with the 
 welcome words, ' Well done, good and 
 faithful servant.' " So we parted. 
 
 Last of all I came again to my two 
 sick boys, who still carried their Testa- 
 ments next their hearts. This was a 
 hard farewell, for I knew that there was 
 but little probability of their surviving 
 even to reach New York. ''Never, 
 never, never, shall we part with these," 
 they said ; "they are everything to us. 
 We will show them to you as soon as we 
 arrive in New York." We were told 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 47 
 
 we must leave the vessel at once ; the 
 goocl-bys were said, the ladies hurried 
 on board the' Elm City, the vessels sepa- 
 rated, and we saw each others' faces no 
 more in this world. The St. Mark went 
 to Philadelphia, and whether my two 
 poor boys lived to reach their homes or 
 not I never learned. Probably not one 
 of all those men will ever meet me again 
 in this world. God grant that when we 
 do meet, it may be to bless him for those 
 few days spent on the Elm Cit}^ For 
 myself I can say I expect to bless him 
 through all eternity for the work he per- 
 mitted me there to do. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 ON DAVIDS ISLAND. 
 
 FTER my return from the 
 South, I still continued to feel 
 ^ more than ever that duty as 
 well as pleasure called me to 
 work for the dying soldiers 
 until the war was over. Our sick men 
 were now being rapidly carried north, 
 and sent to the various hospitals through- 
 out the country. Many were sent to 
 Davids' Island, an island about twenty- 
 five miles from New York, on Long 
 Island Sound; beautifully situated, but 
 hitherto almost useless, as it was noth- 
 ing but a long, narrow island, composed 
 almost entirely of sand. This the gov- 
 ernment now decided to use for hospital 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 49 
 
 purposes, and erected tents for the tem- 
 porary accommodation of the sick, until 
 hospital buildings could be prepared. 
 Here they were carried by hundreds ; 
 but, as yet, the government had not 
 been able to make proper provisions for 
 their comfort. Therefore certain philan- 
 thropic individuals established societies 
 for the relief of these men, until such 
 time as the government was ready to 
 supply all their necessities. The .gov- 
 ernment authorities erected for them 
 barrack buildings, which we termed 
 "ladies' kitchens," and in these Ave kept 
 a store of delicacies for the sick men, 
 which we would prepare and carry out 
 to them under the direction of the phy- 
 sicians. 
 
 There were four kitchens, named after 
 the villages whose contributions sup- 
 ported them — the Pelham, the Yonkers, 
 the Glencove, and the New Rochelle. In 
 
 BusU- Call. 4 
 
50 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 each kitchen were three or four ladies, 
 who voluntarily labored there for the 
 sole purpose of ministering to the wants, 
 both temporal and spiritual, of these 
 sick and dying men; and one lady be- 
 sides, who was put in charge by these 
 societies, and held responsible for the 
 work. I was assigned to the Pelhara 
 kitchen ; and my colaborers there were 
 a noble band of women, whose friend- 
 ship I shall cherish as long as life ^ehall 
 last. They were women who forgot ev- 
 erything — ^ themselves, their homes of 
 luxury, their dress, their friends, every- 
 thing save that men were dying, and souls 
 were perishing ; women who shrank from 
 nothing that was womanly, so that the 
 woes of their countrymen might be alle- 
 viated. Thank God for such women. 
 The world is better for such as these. 
 
 Our work was divided ; some remain- 
 ing within doors, to prepare such things 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 51 
 
 as were needed for the sick, while oth- 
 ers went outside and did what v/e termed 
 the missionary work, carrying the deli- 
 cacies thus prepared, and striving to 
 carry with them the gospel of Jesus. 
 Yet the work was one and the same ; 
 either would have been incomplete with- 
 out the other. Those who remained in- 
 doors labored with indefatigable energy 
 to provide for us who went out those 
 things without which w^e could not 
 have gone even to preach the gospel of 
 Jesus Christ. We were one in heart, 
 one in mind, and thus we labored to- 
 gether with cheerfulness, prayerfulness, 
 and thanksgiving. 
 
 I Vv^as assigned to the out-of-door 
 work. How vividly pass before my 
 mind the thrilling experiences of those 
 few months at oar island home! But 
 one stands out in such bold relief that it 
 seems like a thing burnt into my mem- 
 
52 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 oiy, which can never be erased there- 
 from. Let me try to picture it precisely 
 as I saw and felt it : 
 
 It was an October afternoon, and I 
 was making my round of visits, striving 
 to leave a little cheer, first in one tent, 
 then in another ; a tract here, a Testa- 
 ment there, some little delicacy for a 
 sick man farther on, then a word for 
 Jesus to some weary-hearted one ; and 
 thus I passed on my rounds. It was 
 nearly dark' when I entered a tent and 
 found in one corner a man apparently 
 dying, with a kind lady-visitor bending 
 over him, endeavoring to minister to his 
 wants. I said to one of his comrades, 
 "I belong to the Pelham kitchen, and if 
 you wish anything for the sick man, 
 send there for it.'' After a few inquiries 
 I passed on, and in ministering to the 
 wants of others, the dying man quite 
 passed from my mind. About nine 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 53 
 
 o'clock that evening a summons came to 
 our kitchen for the lady who was in that 
 sick man's tent in the afternoon ; he was 
 dying, and wished to see her. ''The 
 chaplain is here," I replied, "he will 
 go.'' "No, he wishes you.''^ 
 
 Should I go w^ith these men, entire 
 strangers to me, on a dark night, not 
 having the slightest assurance that their 
 purposes towards me were good 2 I 
 hesitated. None knew how to advise 
 me. I Avent to my little room, and knelt 
 and prayed the dear Lord to keep me 
 from danger ; w^rapped my cloak about 
 me, took my Bible in my hand, and went 
 forth without fear. The night was dark 
 and cold, but never were there more 
 courteous attendants than my two plain, 
 unknown soldier guides. 
 
 Now let me describe the scene that 
 greeted me on my entrance, though my 
 feeble pen cannot do it justice. 
 
54 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 It was a double tent, raised in the 
 centre. In the farther corner lay the 
 dying man, life seeming almost extinct, 
 now and then a gurgling sound rising 
 from his throat, a sort of a death-rattle, 
 as it seemed, which made me fear I had 
 come too late. Around the dying man 
 stood, I should think, twelve or fifteen 
 of his comrades, waiting to* see the 
 struggle over. All this v>^as revealed to 
 me by the light of a single candle flick- 
 ering in a bottle, held in the hands of 
 one of the men. The tent stood near 
 the water's edsie. The wind had now 
 increased to a gale, and the waves were 
 lashing the shore with fury. The fly of 
 the tent was loose, and ever and anon it 
 would come with a startling flap against 
 the bed where lay the poor sufferer. 
 
 Never shall I forget that scene. I 
 seem to live it over aorain while I record 
 it. The dying man, the wailing com- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 55 
 
 rades, the flickering sickly light of the 
 candle, the sound of the lashing waves, 
 the flapping canvas, the gurgle in the 
 dying man's throat, all combined, ren- 
 dered it the most impressive scene that 
 I had ever witnessed. My companion 
 went to the bedside and said, "Jenkins, 
 the lady you wanted is here ; can you 
 speak to her?'' He motioned to have 
 me come to him, and murmured, "I am 
 very sick, I fear, and I have been so 
 very wild." *'You are very ill," I re- 
 plied, ''but it is not too late to come to 
 Christ." "But I have been so wild, so 
 wicked." "Not more wicked than the 
 thief on the cross, '^ I said. Then I read 
 of the dying thief and the forgiving 
 Saviour. ''But I knew better ; I had a 
 good father, and I fear it is now too 
 late." " Not too late if you will accept 
 of Christ and his sacrifice, offered on 
 the cross for you." 
 
56 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 I then rdacl the 51st and 103d Psalins, 
 tlie 5 til chapter of 2 Corinthians, and 
 other passages, scarcely knowing wheth- 
 er he heard or not. Then I knelt in 
 prayer. Those rough-looking men all 
 stood with heads uncovered, and eyes 
 filled with tears, while I implored the 
 dear Saviour to reveal himself merciful- 
 ly to this poor dying one, and to his 
 comrades who stood beside him. When 
 I ceased, he said, "Do you think I am 
 so very ill? " "I do. I think your end 
 is very near, and you will soon stand in 
 the presence of your Maker. But he is 
 merciful, and if you pray, he will for- 
 give." "Raise me, raise me,'' he said; 
 and then such a prayer ! Oh that I 
 could remember every syllable of it. 
 Thus it commenced: "0 God of gods 
 and Lord of lords : Thou, in whose pres- 
 ence I shall shortly stand, help me to 
 realize my sins before thee," etc. He 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 57 
 
 seemed to see it all, to stand right upon 
 the borders of the other world, looking 
 over, and seeing all that lay beyond ; 
 and the prayer was a cry of agony, sent 
 up to one who must be a God of justice 
 as well as a God of love. After a most 
 humiliating confession of sin, and an ap- 
 peal to God for mercy, arose a prayer 
 of terrible earnestness for his wicked 
 companions in sin who stood around 
 him. He ceased. I thought the end 
 had come, and I continued the pra3'er, 
 commending the soul of the dying man 
 to his Eedeemer. When I ceased, again 
 he took up the cry, "Lord, have mercy 
 upon me, and upon them," and only fin- 
 ished when so exhausted he could not 
 utter another word. ''He is flighty," 
 they said. ''He does not know what he 
 is saying." " I do ; I know every word." 
 I could do no more for him then, and 
 left him, saying, "You may send for 
 
58 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 me at any hour of the night he wants 
 me." 
 
 The next morning early the word 
 came that he still lived. I immediately 
 went to his tent. The storm had now 
 passed away. The elements without 
 were at rest, seemingly almost as though 
 they were in sympathy with the sick 
 man. He lay quietly on his bed, await- 
 ing my coming, and appearing now to 
 have little dread of the approach of the 
 last great enemy. He greeted me with 
 a quiet look of gratitude. " I hope I 
 have found Him. I have prayed all 
 night. I have been a great sinner, but 
 I believe he will forgive my sin." "The 
 blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth 
 us from all sin," I said. "Do you think 
 he will cleanse one who has been so 
 wicked as I have, and who knew the sin 
 of it as I did?" "Yes, if you will ac- 
 cept him." "I hope I have." So we 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 50 
 
 talked, slowly, and with great difficulty 
 of utterance for him ; but I felt that 
 peace was coming, and that the blood of 
 Jesus Christ had availed for'him. So he 
 lingered for two or three days, each da}^ 
 growing more peaceful, more hopeful. 
 He said, " Write to father, and tell him 
 that I hope I shall meet him and my sis- 
 ters in heaven. I think I shall." One 
 morning word w^as brought me that poor 
 Jenkins had passed away during the 
 night, hoping to the end. 
 
 One morning, about a w^eek later, I 
 was told that a man desired to see the 
 lady who had stood by Jenkins' death- 
 bed. I immediately answered the sum- 
 mons. A plain, quiet man stood before 
 me. "Madam, are jow the lady who 
 was with Jenkins when he died ? " "I 
 am." "Will you tell me all you can 
 about it?" I gave as full a statement 
 as I could, endeavorino: not to omit a 
 
60 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 single thing. "Madam, do you think 
 that bo}^ died a Christian?*' "I do." 
 "Madam, if that was your boy, then 
 would you think so?" "I would, though 
 I do not generally have much confidence 
 in death-bed conversions. This man's 
 penitence and faith seemed so sincere 
 that I could not doubt it." Then the 
 self-constraint all vanished, and the fa- 
 ther broke down before me. "0 mad- 
 am, how I loved that boy! how I prayed 
 for him ! But he was so wild ; he went 
 so far astra3^ Yet I never ceased pray- 
 ing for him ; and when I heard he was 
 sick on this island, I hurried here, hop- 
 ing to reach him before he died, that I 
 might hear from his own lips if there 
 was any reason to hope. Now, even his 
 body has gone. I cannot even look 
 upon his dead, cold face. But, madam, 
 if i^u think he died a Christian, I have 
 
 ^1 
 
 nofWrng more to say, nothing more to 
 
THE RtTGLE CAI^I.. 61 
 
 a»sk for."' "I hoped so before: I believe 
 it fully now.' was my reply. "I do not 
 believe that G-od has permitted the pray- 
 ers of such a father to go unanswered/' 
 "Grod bless you, Grod bless you, 'was all 
 he could utter, as he pressed my hand, 
 watering it with tears. ''Thank Grod 
 you were erer seat to Davids'' Island." 
 
 And I did thank Grt^d from my inmost 
 heart. TMs alone would have beea suf- 
 ficient compensation, for all I ever did 
 there. But Grod did not permit the 
 work to end here. He gave us. we 
 hoped, many souls for our hire : bat the 
 influeace of this maas death reached 
 maay more. K time aad space aEowed, 
 I could tell how oae after daother of the 
 hardeaed mea who stood around that 
 death-bed were led to the Saviour. Oae 
 said, * I have seea death, I believe, ia al- 
 most every form, but aever witaessed I a 
 scene that impressed me as did tke sceae 
 
62 THE BUGLE. CALL. 
 
 in tliat tent tliat wild October niglit.'^ 
 Tlie speaker was one of the first fruits. 
 And another, the most wicked man of the 
 whole group, afterwards would knock 
 any man down (I was told) who spoke a 
 Avord against the religion of the ladies 
 on that island. He, too, I trust, found 
 the Saviour. 
 
 And, mothers, I would like to tell you 
 of one more of that same group, who 
 was so wild that they all said, "You 
 cannot reach George ; it is not worth 
 while to try.'' But I found there was 
 one tender spot in that boy's heart. It 
 was the love of his dead mother, who 
 died praying for her wayward son. One 
 day I approached him kindly ; and when 
 I saw he was determined to avoid me, I 
 said, "Please give me a few minutes." 
 I drew from him the story of his moth- 
 er's love, and prayers and death; and 
 then oh how I plead by everything that 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 63 
 
 was sacred in that mother's love, that 
 he would turn to Christ here and now, 
 abandoning, from this moment, all his 
 evil habits, that he might find her Sav- 
 iour, and at last meet her in heaven. 
 His lips quivered, he hesitated, broke 
 down, and promised. "But, Mrs. 
 
 B ," he said, "why did you speak 
 
 of mother ? I could have stood anything 
 but that." " I knew it, George," I re- 
 plied ; "that is the very reason I plead 
 by her memory." 
 
 Christian father, Christian mother, will 
 you not take fresh courage, and dedicate 
 yourselves and your children with a re- 
 newed consecration to him, and with a 
 renewed faith in him, as the prayer- 
 hearing and prayer-answering God, the 
 covenant-keeping God, whose "mercy 
 is from everlasting to everlasting upon 
 them that fear him, and his righteous- 
 ness unto children's children." 
 
CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THE DAILY ROUTINE. 
 
 HE facts recorded in the last 
 chapter were among my earli- 
 est experiences at Davids' Island. 
 Of course, such thrilling scenes 
 as these were seldom met with 
 in our work, yet scarcely a day passed 
 in which something peculiarly interesting 
 did not arise. The work necessarily was 
 a very absorbing one, and there seemed 
 to be a peculiar intensity of purpose in 
 everything we did. Life seemed as if it 
 were condensed, as though we were crowd- 
 ing more into a week here, than we could 
 do in months of our ordinary lives. The 
 outer world appeared left behind us j 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 65 
 
 indeed we almost forgot there was any 
 other world than the little world of Da- 
 vids' Island, with its two thousand souls. 
 Let me briefly describe our life. Our 
 building was small, consisting of one 
 large kitchen where we prepared our 
 delicacies for the sick, two storerooms, 
 three small bedrooms for the accommo- 
 dation of our ladies, and a little dining- 
 room. Our comforts were comparatively 
 few, our duties heavy, our work one of 
 great responsibility, and yet there Avas 
 a certain indescribable charm about the 
 life we thus led. I cannot tell how it 
 would have appeared to us, if we could 
 have separated from it the crowning joy 
 of the whole, namely, the privilege of 
 working for Christ ; but it always seemed 
 to me that there was a peculiar charm in 
 the very novelty of the life, the emo- 
 tions produced by it were so entirely dif- 
 ferent from anything we had ever before 
 
G6 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 experienced. Perhaps this was iu part 
 to be ascribed to the beautiful situation 
 of the island. It was so narrow, that we 
 seemed to be living on the very water's 
 edge ; and there is something in the 
 sound of the never-ceasing, ever -rolling 
 waves, that appeals to the higher part of 
 man's nature. One night, I remember 
 w^ell rising from my bed, and going into 
 our quiet little diningroom, that I might 
 listen to the music of the waves. All 
 was still: it seemedasif the whole island 
 were sleeping; not a sound was to be 
 heard but the deep undertone of the 
 waters ; it was different from anything I 
 had ever before heard. They hardly 
 seemed to strike the beach at all, but 
 would roll quietly back, with a dull, 
 muffled sort of a sound, like the low roll- 
 ing of distant thunder. It seemed almost 
 portentous. I think I never heard any- 
 thing that affected me in precisely the 
 
THP BUGLE CALL. 67 
 
 same manner. I sat long, and listened, 
 wrapt in thought. The overpowering 
 responsibility, the full greatness of our 
 work rose up before me, while I thus sat 
 as it were alone with God. I felt as 
 though God was giving to us, poor feeble 
 women, a work to do, that might well fill 
 an angel's heart and hands. Should we 
 prove faithffll to the great trust thus com- 
 mitted to us ? 
 
 I went back to my bed, to fall into a 
 restless slumber, and after an hour or 
 two had passed I arose, for I could not 
 sleep. What a change ! The dull, muf- 
 fled undertone of the waters had all gone 
 now, and they were dashing angrily upon 
 the beach; higher and higher each mo- 
 ment were they rising, until I almost fan- 
 cied they were breaking with their white 
 foam underneath the very window where 
 I stood. All around me still lay peace- 
 fully wrapt in slumber, and the deep so- 
 
68 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 lemnity of the scene spoke to my soul of 
 God as nature had never done before. 
 Nothing can convey my emotions, but 
 those glorious words of the 104th Psalm : 
 *' Who laid the foundations of the earth, 
 that it should not be removed for ever! 
 Thou coveredst it with the deep, as with 
 a garment ; the waters stood above the 
 mountains. At thy rebuke Ihey fled, at 
 the voice of thy thunder they hasted 
 away." 
 
 And then our sunsets — how I drank 
 in the joy they afforded me. I had never 
 seen an Italian sunset, but I could not 
 imagine anything more gorgeous than the 
 sunsets at Davids' Island. Perhaps the 
 day would be a dark one, heavy clouds 
 scudding across the sky, bringing with 
 them a sad foreboding of the cold wintry 
 days in store for us. Suddenly the sun 
 would break through, the heavy clouds 
 would roll away, and the whole island 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 69 
 
 be flooded with a golden glory, the waves 
 reflecting back the richer tints of the 
 skies, seeming like the way our Father 
 often comes to his children in their hour of 
 heaviest sorrow, and so floods them with 
 the light of his love, that even their sor- 
 rows reflect back the joy of his dear 
 presence. 
 
 And then there were the calmer, 
 milder sunsets, when the sun after sink- 
 ing below the horizon, would seem as it 
 were to come back to a new life, and 
 open the gates of glory for us, that we 
 might see for an instant that which lay 
 beyond. Like some dying child of God, 
 who is quietly passing to the unseen 
 world, and suddenly seems as if for a 
 moment transfigured before us with the 
 glory v/hich is to be revealed ; and so 
 vividly does he portray to us that which 
 he is seeing and hearing, that we too feel 
 as if our feet were within the gates of 
 
70 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 the golden city. 'T is but an instant, 
 and lie is gone, and we are left alone, 
 with only the remembrance of the glory 
 thus revealed. But like Christian, in 
 Pilgrim's Progress, we, too, wish our- 
 selves among them. Sweetly has some 
 author expressed it . 
 
 " The city's sinning towers we may not see, 
 With our dim earthly vision ; 
 For Death, the silent warder, keeps the key. 
 That opes those gates elysian. 
 
 " But sometimes, when adown the western sky 
 The fiery sunset lingers. 
 Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, 
 Unlocked by unseen fingers. 
 
 " And while they stand a moment half ajar, 
 Gleams from the inner glory 
 Stream brightly through the azure vault afar^ 
 And half reveal the story." 
 
 I have wandered. I believe I com- 
 menced with the purpose of describing 
 our daily life; and the glories which 
 came into that life have carried me away 
 until they have touched the life which is 
 unseen and eternal. But to return to 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 71 
 
 my story. Each morning would find us 
 busily engaged in our preparations for 
 the day ; our home ladies at work in the 
 kitchen, making ready to supply the 
 needs of the sick men, and we filling our 
 baskets with tracts, Testaments, hymn- 
 books, oranges, lemons, flannel shirts, 
 pocket-handkerchiefs, jellies, Harper's 
 Magazine, tales, newspapers, and every- 
 thing else that we could think would 
 prove acceptable to the men. Then, 
 when all was made ready, the last thing 
 would be to kneel down and ask God to 
 teach us just to which tent to go, just to 
 which man to speak — for how could we 
 choose from among those two thousand 
 souls — and how could we know just the 
 word to speak? After ten o'clock the 
 doctors were through their morning 
 rounds, then we would go forth to our 
 work, in great weakness, fear, and tremb- 
 ling, leaning on an Almighty arm. 
 
72 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 Our hospitals were not yet complete, 
 and the men were still lying in tents. 
 The island looked like a city of tents, 
 and though it was regularly laid out in 
 streets, it always appeared to me like a 
 labyrinth, out of which I could never 
 come, without some guiding clew. Then 
 we would go from tent to tent, as God 
 seemed to direct, and talk with one sick 
 man after another of the love of Jesus, 
 until the evening shadows fell, giving 
 ourselves only time for a hurried din- 
 ner. 
 
 After tea we would perhaps attend an 
 evening prayer meeting, where we would 
 gather in such men as were able to be 
 about ; or else perhaps have half a dozen 
 of them in our kitchen, where we would 
 converse with them on religious subjects ; 
 or perhaps one of our ladies would play 
 on the melodeon, while we would all join 
 in singino; familiar home hvmns. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 73 
 
 Then, after they had all left us, we 
 would retire to our little dining-room to 
 talk over the events of the day, perhaps 
 for two or three hours ; sometimes rela- 
 ting to each other deathbed experiences, 
 or the exercises of anxious souls seeking 
 Christ, or perhaps some incident so amu- 
 sing that the walls of our little building 
 would reecho with our laughter. This 
 was our rest, our recreation ; and we 
 needed it, for ours was a heavy work, full 
 of anxiety and responsibility. Said a 
 dear ministerial friend, who came down 
 occasionally to help us with our work, 
 "Why, ladies, it would kill me in six 
 weeks to do the work 3^ou are doing." 
 So we would have said six months be- 
 fore ; and ofttimes now, as we look back 
 to it, we wonder how we had the courage 
 for that which we then went through, 
 and we say we could never do it again. 
 But if God and our country needed us, 
 
74 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 we doubt not we would gird on the armor 
 and enter our names on the lists again 
 with fresh courage for the conflict. The 
 work was the Lord's, and he raised up 
 the men and women to do it. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 
 
 0^Y could we, I asked in the 
 preceding chapter, know just 
 to which tents to go, and just 
 to which men to speak, unless 
 God directed us? And now I 
 ask, amidst the many incidents crowded 
 into those few months of hospital life, 
 how shall I choose those best calculated, 
 not alone to interest the reader, but to 
 help doubting souls to the Saviour, un- 
 less he guide me. Incidents might be 
 selected almost at random, for there are 
 many that bring to me precious mem- 
 ories ; but I prefer to speak of the men 
 
76 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 whose career I was best able to follow, 
 and who stood up most faithfully for the 
 Saviour, whom they there learned to 
 know and love. 
 
 I found myself one pleasant afternoon, 
 just before my day's work was over, 
 standing at the opening of a little tent, 
 in which sat two young men, neither of 
 whom I judged had yet attained the age 
 of manhood. They had a listless, wea- 
 ried air about them that saddened me at 
 once. The face of the elder was pe- 
 culiarily sad and thoughtful. " Wliat is 
 the matter, boys?*' I inquired as I en- 
 tered the tent; "why do you look so 
 downcast ?'' " Oh, we are so tired here," 
 w^as the reply ; "it is so dull, and such 
 hard work to be away from our regi- 
 ment, lying here in hospital sick." " Ah, 
 there are worse things than that," I said ; 
 " but let me sit down and see if I cannot 
 cheer you a little." So I took my seat 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 77 
 
 beside them, and asked tliem about their 
 homes and their army life, and told them 
 I would bring them some cheerful read- 
 ing on the morrow. After talking awhile, 
 until I had gained their confidence, I 
 said, "Are either of you boys Chris- 
 tians?'' "No, ma'am," was the ready 
 response, "and we do n't think it is worth 
 while to try to be while we are in the 
 army." " Why not ?" I said. " Oh, be- 
 cause there are no Christians there ; and 
 you could n't be a Christian in the army 
 any way, even if you wanted to be one." 
 " No Christians in the army, and couldn't 
 be one if you wanted to either ? Wait 
 a moment," I said, "I can prove that 
 you are mistaken. I have a brother 
 who is a Christian officer, and thinks 
 that if a man chooses he can be a Chris- 
 tian there as well as in any other place. 
 p]very man's life, you know, must have 
 its temptations." " Oh, yes, but he is 
 
78 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 an officer ; that is different. He could 
 not be a Christian if he was a private." 
 "But he was at first a private, and 
 was a Christian then." "I do not know 
 how he did it, ma'am. I cannot under- 
 stand it." "There is only one way to 
 do it," I said ; " that is, to look to Grod 
 every day and every hour for help." 
 " Well, I do not know that I care much 
 about it any way. I have sometimes 
 thought I would like to be a Christian, 
 but not enough to make any exertion to 
 try to be." "If I should tell you that 
 on that vacant plot of ground, yonder 
 there was a treasure worth millions, 
 which you could have if you searched 
 until you found it, when would you be- 
 gin your search?" "Why, to-morrow, 
 certainly; to-night, if we could. But, 
 ma'am, there is no such treasure ; you 
 have nothing like that to offer us." 
 "That is true. I have no such treasure 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 79 
 
 to ofifer you ; but I have that to offer 
 which untold millions could not buy. If 
 the wealth of the world w^as laid at your 
 feet, it would not be anything in com- 
 parison to that which I come in Grod's 
 name to bring to you to-day.'' They 
 looked up in amazement, and then I told 
 them of the priceless value of the salva- 
 tion wrought out by the Son of God, and 
 of the freeness and fullness of that sal- 
 vation — a salvation without money and 
 without price, the only terms of Avhich 
 were to accept and live. "Ho, every 
 one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters ; 
 and he that hath no money, come ye, 
 buy and eat. Yea, come, buy wine and 
 milk without money and without price." 
 Isa. 55:1. The elder of the two was 
 evidently much impressed. " Why, I 
 would like it,'' he said, " but it has never 
 come to me in this light before.'' It was 
 now growing dark, and I bade them 
 
80 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 good-niglit, promising to come again on 
 the morrow. 
 
 On the morrow accordingly I went, 
 taking with me some cheerful reading. 
 Again we talked earnestly on the same 
 subject, and I felt that the seed had been 
 planted in at least one heart, and that 
 God would cause it to take root and 
 grow. ''I have thought much, ma'am, 
 of that which you told us last night. I 
 could hardly sleep for thinking, and I 
 would like to start on the Christian life ; 
 but I fear that I shall not have the cour- 
 age to hold out." 
 
 "Do not trouble yourself about that. 
 Begin the Christian life at once, and God 
 will give you strength to hold out to the 
 end. He will take care of the end if 
 you will only take care of the beginning. 
 Do promise me," I plead. "You will 
 be so happy, and so much better fitted 
 for duty, if you are a Christian soldier, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 81 
 
 and so much better fitted to die, if death 
 must come." "I will, ma'am; I will 
 try ;" and he did, and from that moment 
 I hope he began his Christian life. 
 Though for many weeks it had but a 
 very feeble existence, God permitted us 
 to watch its growth, until it bloomed into 
 a strong and vigorous life — a life of which 
 all who came into contact with it felt 
 the effects, the reality of which could 
 not be doubted, for it bore daily fruits. 
 His body daily developed into a more 
 vigorous manhood, and it seemed to me 
 as though his religious life kept pace 
 with his bodily growth. I never heard 
 any man say he doubted the religion of 
 
 F ; it could not be doubted. 
 
 In reading over some old army cor- 
 respondence to-day, I met this passage 
 in one of his letters, written man}^ 
 months after he had left us and returned 
 to the camp: "Never do I forget the 
 
82 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 evening you came to me at my tent on 
 Davids' Island, and the impressions on 
 my mind from that time forward. No, 
 
 Mrs. B , I do not regret my choice 
 
 to serve God. I have never at my 
 darkest moments regretted it ; and when 
 I think of what my life and enjoyments 
 used to be, I cannot but rejoice.^' 
 
 But let me give a little history of the 
 progress of this work in his soul. We 
 had evening prayer-meetings, at which 
 the men would rise and ask for the 
 prayers of others. This seemed to be a 
 stand taken, which made them feel that 
 they were pledged to go on ; yet it was 
 often a great effort to take this step. I 
 
 urged it upon F . " Oh, I cannot,'' 
 
 he said, "I cannot. I am not sure yet 
 that I am even trying." " I am," I re- 
 plied, "and that step will be a great 
 help." But I could not prevail. One 
 night, much to my surprise and delight, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 83 
 
 he rose and in a trembling voice made 
 known his request. I knew that this 
 had cost him a painful effort, and I knew 
 full well that his Christian life would 
 develop rapidly from that hour. My 
 theory was correct, and soon his voice 
 was heard in prayer in our meetings ; 
 and from this time he became one of 
 our strongholds. Whenever a sick man 
 needed more religious care than I could 
 
 give him, I had only to say, "F , 
 
 will you not go to that sick man and try 
 to give him God's word as I gave it to 
 you ? It 's the only return you can 
 make me." "Indeed, I will ma'am, if 
 you think I am worthy to do the work ;" 
 and so, as he improved in health, he 
 continued to work, ever steadfast, ever 
 faithful, a pure, straightforward, honest 
 Christian man. What a comfort he was 
 to us ! Afterwards he was' sent to Fort 
 Hamilton, where a dear sister was work- 
 
84 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 ing for the sick as we were at Davids' Isl- 
 and. From the time he arrived her work 
 became lighter ; he always stood by her 
 ready to help her, and was so consistent 
 in his Christian life that none could now 
 say a soldier could not be a Christian. 
 
 But let me quote again from a letter 
 received from him while at Fort Hamil- 
 ton : ''Our prayer-meeting is no longer 
 a dull, dragging meeting of five or six 
 boys, but it is a meeting in which as 
 many as time permits take an active 
 part ; a meeting that I know^ the smiles 
 of Heaven rest upon, and in which some 
 are seen kneeling down in time of prayer 
 who might have been heard profaning 
 the name of God a short time ago. Miss 
 
 M said once, that if Satan had any 
 
 ground he called his own, it was here at 
 Fort Hamilton ; but she thought we had 
 a small hold, and she did not want us to 
 give up that little, but make an effort to 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 85 
 
 gain ground. And I was thinking yes- 
 terday, and writing home about it, how 
 we had gained footing, and how different 
 was our position now from what it was 
 when we first came here. And it is all 
 
 the result of Miss M 's visits and 
 
 efforts, because I should have given up 
 oftentimes, had she not come down and 
 stirred us up. I thought it was of no 
 use, for I felt that no one had any in- 
 terest but me ; but now there are many 
 to take hold of it." So he continued 
 working until ordered back to his regi- 
 ment, and then his letters were clear, 
 strong, and faithful, with always the 
 same vein of sadness running through 
 them, for he was naturally inclined to 
 look on the dark side. But every letter 
 expressed the same joy at the choice he 
 had made, the same consecration of pur- 
 pose, and the same earnest desire to win 
 souls to Christ. 
 
86 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 At one time liis letters did not come 
 to hand, and I wrote to his sister for in- 
 formation concerning him. This was the 
 reply : '' My brother is still in the army 
 unharmed, or was when we last heard 
 from him, on the 8th of June. They 
 were still lying in front of Petersburg. 
 My brother has been very fortunate so 
 far ; he has survived many friends ; he 
 has participated in many hardships ; he 
 has had many long, wearisome marches ; 
 he has lived a soldier's life for nearly 
 two years. We hope he may escape one 
 year longer and return home, feeling that 
 he has done his duty. We fear that he 
 will not, that the fatal blow is yet to 
 come ; but we have the consolation that 
 he is prepared to fall, if that should be 
 his fate ; for I believe he is a true Chris- 
 tian, and that he enjoys his religion, for 
 his only desire appears to be to serve 
 his Maker. He has given his life into 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 87 
 
 the Lands of his Saviour, and we are 
 content to trust him in his care." 
 
 June 26th came this letter from him : 
 "Battle Line, Front of Petersburg. 
 
 Since I wrote Miss M we have not 
 
 been in any general engagement, but 
 have been shelled once or twice furi- 
 ously. One charge of scrapnel thrown 
 into our company hit several of our men, 
 but none were killed ; it seemed to me 
 almost a miracle. At any rate I recog- 
 nize the hand of God m preserving us 
 under such a fire. For my good health, 
 for the preservation of my life, and for 
 all the great blessings I enjoy, I am truly 
 
 thankful. I am not tired, Mrs. B , 
 
 of trying to be a Christian. I find a 
 comfort on the fatiguing march, amidst 
 the bustle of camp, around the rain- 
 drenched bivouac, and at last in the 
 conflict, or while restlessly expecting to 
 move forward to an attack, or to be at- 
 
88 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 tacked. Then it is, that I am not sorry 
 that I have taken Christ for my portion. 
 
 But, Mrs. B , I am always impressed 
 
 with a deep sense of my weakness and 
 proneness to stray from God. I am often 
 despondent. Yet I have a hope in 
 Christ, and am looking for a crown of 
 life, knowing that if I faint not I shall 
 receive it. I am glad that people at 
 home are so earnestly praying on our 
 behalf, for I know that the fervent prayer 
 of the righteous availeth much. Remem- 
 ber me always at the throne of grace, 
 that I may be submissive to God's will. 
 If it is his will, I want to go home ; if 
 not, ' Thy will, not mine, be done.' " He 
 did live, thank God, to see the war over, 
 and when I last heard from him, he was 
 happily situated in his own home as the 
 Christian head of a household. God 
 grant that he may long be spared to 
 work for Him. 
 
GHAPTEE YII. 
 
 THE DOUBLE TENT. 
 
 'OMETIMES it would take a 
 great deal of courage to enter 
 a tent, wlien it was full, and the 
 men looked as if our visits were 
 not agreeable ; then there was a 
 great temptation to pass by the spot, 
 saying, ''I do not believe duty calls me 
 there. '^ One such scene I can recall. 
 As I glanced into a tent, which was a 
 double one, the separating canvas being 
 raised, I saw quite a party of men sit- 
 ting within, but with no look of welcome 
 visible upon their countenances. '' Good 
 morning,'' I said. "Do you wish any 
 
90 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 books?'' ''No, we do not wish any- 
 thing.'' " Well, I will not come in if 
 3^ou do not wish me ; but I thought you 
 would like some magazines, or tales." 
 •'Oh, we thought 3^ou had nothing but 
 Bibles and tracts ; walk in, we shall be 
 very glad to get them." So I walked 
 in, and taking my seat among them drew 
 them out as usual to talk of their regi- 
 ments and their homes. 
 
 They soon became interested, and the 
 group around me gradually increased in 
 numbers, and I pondered in my heart 
 how I should introduce the subject of re- 
 ligion here, where I felt it would meet 
 with no response. God gave me words, 
 as he always did. Christ's directions to 
 his disciples seemed as though they might 
 have been written for us: "Take no 
 thought how or what ye shall speak, for 
 it shall be given you in that same hour 
 what ye shall speak ; for it is not ye that 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 91 
 
 speak, but the Spirit of your Father wliicli 
 speaketh in you.'' Matt. 10:19, 20. 
 
 After asking many questions about 
 their army life, and telling them some of 
 my own experiences in the few days I 
 was at the South, I said to one of the 
 men, " What w^as the name of the gen- 
 eral who commanded your division?" 
 
 " We w^ere most of us in General C 's 
 
 division." " Ah!" I replied, "then you 
 had a Christian general." "I don't 
 know, ma'am, how that was ; we men of 
 course knew but little of our generals ; 
 but we all respected him much." "I 
 will tell you a little story about him," I 
 said, '' if you would like to hear it." Of 
 course permission was granted. " When 
 I was quite a young girl," I said, "in my 
 father's church — for he was a minister — 
 there were but few young Christians, al- 
 most all old people ; and we young peo- 
 ple did not care much to go to prayer- 
 
92 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 meetings. One summer there came to 
 our village a young man, with a clear 
 head and winning manners ; manners 
 that seemed to betoken a Christian 
 heart. He immediately went into our 
 church prayer-meetings, singing with a 
 sweet voice, and praying with an earn- 
 est. Christian heart. The young people 
 were quite surprised, for hitherto they 
 had looked upon prayer-meetings as be- 
 ing better suited to the aged and middle- 
 aged people of the church ; and he was 
 so fresh, so young, and so full of viva- 
 city. What could he see in these meet- 
 ings, that made him love so much to go ? 
 We could not tell, but we would go and 
 try them too. And we did go, and some 
 of us soon learned to love them as well 
 as he did, and only wondered we had 
 not loved them before. The grace of 
 God came into our hearts, and the sweet 
 cheerful influence of that young man 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 93 
 
 helped many of us to Christ. That, my 
 friends, was your general ! If ever you 
 see him again, ask him, and he will tell 
 you that every word I say is true. Now 
 if so great a man as your general does 
 not find religion a thing unworthy of his 
 seeking, would it not be worth while for 
 3^ou to try it for yourselves ? He would 
 tell you, if you asked him, that there is 
 nothing like the joy God gives his chil- 
 dren, when they seek his love." Then, 
 what an earnest appeal I made to them 
 to seek Christ now. ''Now is the ac- 
 cepted time, now is the day of salvation.'^ 
 All listened intently. By this time, 
 I should think, there were twenty men 
 standing around me, and I turned from 
 one to another, with those simple words, 
 "Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and 
 • ye shall find." " Him that cometh unto 
 me, I will in no wise cast out." I be- 
 came very much interested in the con- 
 
94 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 versation, and so did they. When I had 
 finished I said, "Now will you accept 
 Bibles, and Testaments ?" " Yes, ma'am ; 
 oh yes, as many as you can spare." I 
 gave all I had ; and one man, who had 
 been the coldest on my entrance, said, 
 " Cannot you bring me a Bible in good 
 print? I will promise to read it." As 
 I bade them good-by, tliey said, " Come 
 ogain; oh do come very soon; don't let 
 it be many days before we see you in 
 our tent again." I left the tent, and 
 turned towards home, wondering why I 
 could not always trust my Father to 
 speak for me : 
 
 " Workman of God, oil lose not heart, 
 But learn wliat God is like ; 
 And in the darkest battle-field 
 Thou shalt know where to strike." 
 
 A few days after, the doctor who had 
 
 charge of these tents said, " Mrs. B , 
 
 do my boys treat you well? because, if 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 95 
 
 they do not, I will have them punished." 
 "I would rather you should leave 3'our 
 boys with me/' I said; "but you ask 
 them, for yourself, whether they would 
 like to see that same lady in their tents 
 again." 
 
 • Another scene I also recall, of very 
 much the same character. It is in the 
 double tent again, the men scattered list- 
 lessly or morosely about. I enter, and 
 sit down by the couch of a sick man. 
 After my usual pleasant inquiries, we 
 fall very soon into religious discussions, 
 and one by one the men draw near and 
 form part of the circle, until I have again 
 a large audience. "0 ma'am," replies 
 the sick man, "I do not believe as. you 
 do. I am a Universalist, and so are most 
 of the boys in these two tents." " Well," 
 I said, "let us look into the subject." 
 " There is but little use in that, ma'am,'' 
 said the sick man. ' ' 1 have been brought 
 
96 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 up in that belief, and do not think you 
 could change me." "Well," I said, 
 "you have no objection to conversing 
 with me upon the subject." "No, not the 
 least." 
 
 I found he was a pretty clear thinker ; 
 the rest did not know exactly what they 
 believed. I reasoned with them for a 
 long time, and with much earnestness, of 
 "righteousness, temperance, and judg- 
 ment to come." When I had finished, 
 they were all seated very quietly, appa- 
 rently much interested, when I said, 
 "My friends, does your religion make 
 you happy ?" " iVb." " Well, mine does 
 me : it is an unfailing source of happi- 
 ness, I have gone through much sor- 
 row, but never has that consolation lost 
 its power to cheer and sustain me. Now, 
 if your religion has not made you happy, 
 and mine has made me so, why will you 
 not try my religion? You can have it 
 
THE BUGLE GALL. 97 
 
 for the asking ; God's word tells you so. 
 ' Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
 heavy laden, and I Avill give you rest.' " 
 
 To prove to them the sincerity of what 
 I said, I remarked, "I am going home 
 to-morrow to rest for a few days, and 
 when I come back you may be gone. If 
 you should never see me again in this 
 world, but should at any time take up a 
 paper and see my death in it, you need 
 not say, ' I am sorry ;' but rather, ' how 
 glad I am ; she has gone to be with her 
 Saviour whom she loved ;' for I tell you, 
 my friends, I should be glad. Now can 
 you not see that my religion is more than 
 a hope ? it is a happy and firm belief." 
 " It must be," was the reply ; '' but may 
 we not say, we are sorry for ourselves ? 
 for we should be very sorry." 
 
 I bade them good-by, telling them I 
 should leave on the morrow. The fol- 
 lowing morning early, a man came to our 
 
98 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 "ladies' kitchen/' saying that tbe men 
 in tent No. 10 wished to see the lady 
 who called there yesterday. I put on 
 my things, and hurried down to the tent, 
 and found the same party awaiting me. 
 " What did you desire? I have but little 
 time." "We sent for you, to urge you 
 not to go home to-day." "I must," I 
 replied ; " they need me at home, and I 
 require rest." "But we need you too; 
 need you far more than they do at home." 
 "For what?" I asked. " Oh, to tell us 
 of your religion; of your Saviour, and 
 of his love, and to help us to find him." 
 "I cannot, I must go; my plans are all 
 made." " Have you a right to go," they 
 said, " when we need you so much ? We 
 put it to your conscience ; if you love the 
 Saviour so well, hov/ can you go until 
 you have helped us to find him ?" " You 
 are right," I replied ; " I cannot go. I 
 have no right to go. I will stay." Then 
 
THE BUGLE CALL 99 
 
 we reasoned again, just as we did yester- 
 day, only with this difference — that now 
 they were no longer cavilling, bnt seek- 
 ing the trnth. 
 
 So I stayed, and day after day found me 
 in that tent, talking with those men. My 
 invalid friend was evidently shaken in 
 his belief, and trying earnestl}" to find 
 the rio-ht way. I trust he did, for he 
 was sincere ; but after my return from a 
 short visit at home, the tents were gone, 
 the pavilions occupied, and my patients 
 all scattered. This man had been sent 
 to his friends in Ehode Island, and from 
 that time I have never heard of him. 
 Yet there is within me a strong hope 
 that I shall find him again, when I reach 
 my home above, waiting to welcome me 
 to the presence of his Saviour as well as 
 my Saviour. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN THE PAVILIONS. 
 
 HE season was now advan- 
 cing, the tents were very cold, 
 and great haste was behig made 
 to get the men into the pavilions 
 before the winter set in. 
 Let me describe these pavilions, of 
 which there were twenty. They were 
 long, low, one-story barrack bnildings, 
 divided into four apartments, each of 
 which held twent}" beds ; and each room 
 communicated witli the other rooms ; so 
 that, when you entered the pavilion, you 
 saw a long line of eighty beds, forty on 
 either side. Sometimes we found it. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 101 
 
 rather a formidable task to enter these 
 rooms, and face those eighty men. The 
 water was introduced into these build- 
 ings, stoves were put up, and there was 
 everything in them that the men needed 
 for their comfort. 
 
 Now our work began to be systema- 
 tized. To each kitchen was assigned 
 the care of five pavilions. Of course 
 we could go into the others when we 
 liked, and vv^e did do so constantly; but 
 for these five we were expected to pro- 
 vide delicacies. The men who had been 
 with me in Jenkins' tent when he died 
 were mostly assigned to one pavilion, 
 and there I was alwaj^s welcome. In- 
 deed, that event had helped us ladies 
 very much in oui* work with the men ; 
 for they said that a woman who was not 
 afraid to go out at ten o'clock at night 
 with strange men, to see and pray with 
 a dying man, must be a good woman, 
 
102 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 and they would at least respect such 
 ladies. 
 
 One of the men who came after me 
 on that night, I discovered, had, ever 
 since that event; thought deeply, but 
 could find no light, and was now sad 
 and dejected. I said to him one day, 
 "Why do you hesitate any longer, 
 
 C ? What is standing in your way? 
 
 Why do you not accept Christ at once? 
 He is willing." " I cannot ; I wish from 
 my heart I could.'' And so days passed 
 on, and I could get no clew to the real 
 difficulty that lay in his way. But one 
 night the secret was told. I found that 
 after the men had been removed into 
 the pavilions, they had not the courage 
 to kneel in prayer before their comrades, 
 as they would be laughed at, and often 
 have things flung at them while on their 
 knees. In the summer they had been 
 able to go and pray upon the seashore, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 103 
 
 or behind the rocks; but it was a differ- 
 ent thing, this kneeling before thirty or 
 forty of their comrades, who were ready 
 to sneer and jeer ; some joining loudly 
 in the sneers to drown the voice of con- 
 science within them, which was whis- 
 pering, "Go thou and do likewise;'' 
 "Take up thy cross and follow me." Yet, 
 alas, they had not the courage to kneel 
 beside these moral heroes. It was a 
 hard thing to do, and did require a great 
 degree of moral courage ; but we found 
 that while they were not brave enough 
 to take this stand, but skulked behind, 
 saying their prayers in bed, trying to 
 ease their consciences in this way, they 
 did not find Christ. 
 
 "Mrs. B ," he said, " I cannot do 
 
 this ; I am not brave enough ; I would 
 rather be drawn up in line of battle, and 
 flice the enemy." "You are hdng an 
 enemy," I replied, "and a more power- 
 
104 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 fill enemy than any earthly one. You 
 are facing the powers of darkness, and 
 the struggle is between you and Satan. 
 He will not let you kneel if he can 
 help it, for he does not want you to be- 
 come a subject of the King of kings.'' 
 "Do you not think I can be a Christian 
 without it? " "I fear not. This a sort 
 of providential test; and while 3^ou are 
 unwilling to take this step, I do not be- 
 lieve you will find the Saviour. What 
 would you think of a soldier who was 
 not brave enough to own before the en- 
 emy that he belonged to the opposing 
 army ? Would you not say he was too 
 cowardly to be in the ranks? Now how 
 do you suppose jour Saviour feels when 
 he sees you too cowardl}^ to own that 
 you want to light under his banner?" 
 No answer could be made to this, nor 
 could I prevail. 
 
 One mornino* he came to me and said, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 105 
 
 *'I have sometlimg to tell you.'' I saw 
 there was an unusual light on his pleas- 
 ant countenance." ''Well, what is it?'' 
 "I have done it, I liaxe done it. And 
 now I know that I am the Lord's. But 
 what a fearful night I have had of it. I 
 hope I may never pass such another. I 
 could not kneel in the pavilion, and I 
 dared not go to bed Avithout kneeling. 
 So I went out and passed almost all 
 night on the shore, amid the rocks. I 
 looked up to the stars, and I seemed 
 alone with God. Then I cried out in an 
 agony of entreaty that God would help 
 me to do my duty. I knelt down behind 
 the rocks, and he seemed to hear me as 
 I told him that if he would help me I 
 would do it. Then I went back and 
 kneeled right down before all the boys 
 who were still awake. But the struggle, 
 the dreadful struggle is over now, and I 
 know I can do it again." 
 
106 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 The result was as I had supposed ; 
 now came the peace ; and greatly he 
 helped nie in my work, having an in- 
 tense desire to lead others to Christ. 
 
 But before I speak of his work for 
 others, I must quote from a letter he 
 received from his mother ; and none can 
 wonder that the son of such a mother 
 found Jesus : 
 
 "I feel very grateful to the lady you 
 speak of, who is devoting her time and 
 talents to bringing souls to Jesus. She 
 vv^ill receive a great reward ; if not in 
 this life, in heaven. After I experi- 
 enced the love of God in my heart, I 
 grew cold, and the neglect of secret 
 ])rayer was the cause of my coldness. 
 Tliis is the true life of piety. Without it, 
 every grace in the soul must droop and 
 die. Be strict in the duty of prayer ; 
 never neglect a known duty ; study 
 your Bible, to know what that duty is. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 107 
 
 I do hope you will go right forward in 
 
 the faithful performance of every duty." 
 
 Now he worked with all his soul to 
 
 save those around him. "Mrs. B ,'' 
 
 he said, " could you not some time talk 
 
 with D ? He says you shall not 
 
 speak to him ; for if you do, he believes 
 he must become a Christian. He runs 
 wdienever you enter our pavilion." "I 
 will not forget," I replied. One day, 
 entering the pavilion, I was greeted with 
 a loud burst of laughter from all sides. 
 It seemed entirely uncontrollable, yet it 
 embarrassed me very much. As soon 
 
 as they could compose themselves, C 
 
 stepped forward, saying, "Do not think, 
 
 Mrs. B , we are laughing at you ; 
 
 but w^e all shave each other here, and I 
 was shaving D . I had only fin- 
 ished half of his face ; and when he 
 heard your step, he bounded away as if 
 an enemy was in pursuit of him, and 
 
108 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 now lie is outside, vrilli his face half- 
 shaved.'' " He need not have been 
 afraid," I replied; "I had not the 
 slightest intention of speaking to him." 
 ''Shall you never speak to him?" was 
 the anxious inquiry. "I will," I replied, 
 "when God makes the way clear, not 
 before." 
 
 Day after day passed away, and final- 
 ly he became so used to ra}^ presence 
 that he would not run from me. Still I 
 did not make any effort to speak to him, 
 though speaking to all the rest of the 
 boys in the pavilion. He began to be 
 annoyed at my neglect, it seemed so 
 marked. Still 1 passed him every day 
 with a pleasant "Good morning." noth- 
 ing more. He tried to put himself in 
 my way, but I appeared not to notice. 
 Finally, one day, I took my seat beside 
 
 him, and said : "D , I shall leave 
 
 the island to-morrow, for a little rest in 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 109 
 
 my own home. Probably you will bo 
 ordered off before my return, and we 
 shall never meet again ; but I could not 
 leave the island until I told you what 
 it was that brought me here to work 
 for you soldiers." Then I told him of 
 the sorrow God had put upon me, and 
 that after twelve months of weary nurs- 
 ing, until hope had died within me, God 
 took from me one who was dearer than 
 life itself; and how, when bidding me a 
 last farewell, there was only one wish 
 uttered, one dying message given," Work 
 for Jesus, darling, work for Jesus." "And 
 
 that, D ," said T, " is the reason 
 
 why I am here. Do you wonder at it 
 now?" When I had finished my narra- 
 tive, the tears were coursing down his 
 cheeks. " Xo, no. Tell me more ; and 
 tell me all about Jesus' love." I did ; 
 and he listened, his whole soul absorbed 
 in the truths I was uttering. " Will you 
 
110 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 not try?'' I said. "I will, I will ; but 
 I have been so wicked, I doubt whether 
 there is much hope for me." 
 
 C watched this man's progress 
 
 with almost a nervous anxiety, bringing 
 me reports from him every day. I do 
 hope he found the Saviour. While he 
 remained with us he maintained a con- 
 sistent walk, and after he left us I heard 
 nothing but favorable accounts of him 
 until I lost sight of him entirely. He 
 formerly had called the Bible by every 
 profane name he could utter ; but he 
 learned that that Bible could give him a 
 rest and joy that none of his infidel 
 books had ever been able to give. 
 
 In the same pavilion was another, 
 who said he feared to speak to me lest I 
 should "entice him into being a Chris- 
 tian." "I can stand anything but moth- 
 er ; if she will leave mother alone, I 
 am safe." C informed me of this 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. Ill 
 
 fact; and when my opportunity to speak 
 came, I did plead by that mother's mem- 
 or}^, and told him that mother's love, 
 that mother's prayers, were the golden 
 chain that bound him to heaven. But for 
 those prayers, he w^ould doubtless have 
 been beyond hope long since ; and God 
 had sent me here in answer to her fer- 
 vent supplications. I said, ''Gr , this 
 
 is the cord that is indeed binding you to 
 heaven ; but it is growing thinner each 
 day. It is now only a single strand. 
 Your wickedness has been so great that 
 your hold on it is almost gone, and now 
 there is but one delicate strand left ; are 
 you going to cut that ? " He could not ; 
 he dared not ; he wept at the thought of 
 that dear mother's love, and then said, 
 '•I will begin from this hour." "God 
 help you," was all I could say. I un- 
 derstood afterward that the moment I 
 left the building he went to the stove, 
 
112 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 pulled out a pack of cards marked ready 
 for gambling, (for lie was a gambler,) 
 and threw them in the fire, saying, 
 
 " C , I could not have done this if 
 
 she had not spoken of mother. I could 
 not stand that.'' 
 
 So God led us along day by day, each 
 day guiding us, each day putting words 
 in our mouths, until we literally felt it 
 was not we that were speaking, but our 
 "Father speaking in us."' 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE TWO DAVIDS. 
 
 OMETIMES, after we were all 
 equipped, witli our baskets fill- 
 ed, ready to go out, our courage 
 would fail, aud we w^ould feel as 
 though we could never enter an- 
 other pavilion. My dearest friend in the 
 woi'k. who roomed with me, would often 
 say, "I cannot go; oh, I cannot go!" 
 One day I remember well, she came 
 back and said, ''I believe I have not 
 the courage to go this morning." "I 
 am glad you feel so," was my reply, *'for 
 my heart too seems to die within me at 
 the thoudit of the work before us." Then 
 we knelt and poured out our souls to- 
 
114 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 getlier before G od, pleading for the power 
 of the Holy Spirit to rest upon us ; and 
 rising from our knees, went forth with 
 fresh courage. 
 
 We had often some young soldier ac- 
 company us, carrying our baskets. I 
 think it was that very morning that a 
 young fellow, named Connor, carried 
 mine. We had prayed God earnestly, 
 that he would show us just the very man 
 to whom we should speak. As we passed 
 on our way, Connor said to a young man 
 whom we met, "Holloa, David, how are 
 you?'' "Good morning, David," I said . 
 pleasantly. "Are you well?" "No; 
 very sick, ma'am." "What is the mat- 
 ter?" I asked, approaching him. "Oh, 
 I do n't know exactly ; some disease I 
 believe contracted in the swamps of the 
 Ohickahominy. I do not think I am long 
 for this world, ma'am." 
 
 It was a bleak morning, and I should 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 115 
 
 not have permitted liim to stand and 
 talk; but tlie Spirit of God seemed to 
 lead me on. " Well," I said, " David, I 
 hope yon are a Christian, and do not fear 
 meeting death." A broken sob almost 
 choked him. "Oh no, ma'am. I was 
 once ; but I became very thoughtless, 
 and all my religious impressions left me." 
 "If you were a Christian once, are you 
 not one still ? And if you are a wander- 
 ing sheep that has strayed from the fold, 
 ask the loving Shepherd to guide you 
 back, and he will." " I am afraid I could 
 not find the way back, it is so long since 
 I wandered." " He will help you. You 
 cannot find it alone." So we talked for 
 perhaps half an hour, he weeping bitter- 
 ly. At length I said, "David, go back 
 to your pavilion. I am now going to the 
 lower part of the island. On my way 
 home I will stop in and see you again. 
 And I will send a friend to read to you." 
 
116 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 I then went to the pavilion where 
 
 F was, and said, ''F , you must 
 
 help me take care of a poor sick fellow ; 
 you must read to him, talk with him, and 
 help him to find the way back to the Sa- 
 viour." I then went on my rounds, al- 
 most forgetting David while laboring 
 with others. On my return about Uvo 
 hours later, as I passed David's pavilion, 
 I thought I would stop in a moment and 
 see him. As I entered the first ward, I 
 found a man dying, who needed my care. 
 While leaning over him, trying to do 
 
 what I could for him, F approached 
 
 me. " Mrs. B , make haste,'' he said, 
 
 "make haste! David is dying !" "David 
 dying ! why it is not two hours since I 
 left him!" "Yes, ma'am, I guess he 
 took cold while talking with 3^ou, and 
 now lie is dying." Could it be ? and was 
 lie to die without hope ? 
 
 I approached his bedside. He appear- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL 117 
 
 ed to be in great agony, and 3^et there 
 seemed to be no horror of death before 
 him. "David, I am sorry to see you 
 suffering so." " Yes, ma'am, but it is all 
 right. Jesus is close to me ; I have 
 found the way back. I am in the fold. 
 Oh, how thankful I am that you met me 
 this morning. If you had not, I might 
 have died without hope ; now all is peace, 
 peace! I have no fears." Surely God 
 had taught me that day just to which man 
 to speak. I lingered by his side a few 
 moments, scarcely understanding the sud- 
 den change. In one short hour, the spir- 
 itual life quickened and matured into full 
 growth, and the natural life drooping and 
 expiring. Jesus had not left his child 
 long in the darkness. Doubtless he had 
 been His through all these years of wan- 
 dering. Still I could not but wonder at 
 the perfect rest this tired wanderer had 
 so'soon found in Jesus' love. "David,'' 
 
118 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 I said, "shall I leave you, to go to a dy- 
 ing man in the next ward, who needs me 
 more than you ? Shall I go to him ?" 
 " Oh yes, go. Do not wait a single mo- 
 ment. Jesus is with me. Do go, and 
 help the other poor dying man to find 
 him." 
 
 So I went and stood over the first 
 deathbed, watching the soul passing to 
 the other world. But little could be 
 done for him, except to commend him 
 into the hands of a merciful God. The 
 end was too near, to seek Christ now, if 
 he had not done so before. "In the 
 place where the tree falleth, there it 
 shall be." Eccl. 11:3. I left him before 
 the struggle was over. Human kindness 
 was of no avail now ; he was treading 
 that path which every human soul must 
 tread alone — alone, unless accompanied 
 by the presence of the unseen Saviour. 
 Oh, how sad it was, to see one going out 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 119 
 
 thus alone, as we feared, and stand by 
 perfectly po\Yerless to help. The next 
 day I visited the pavilion again. The 
 bed was empty, waiting for another oc- 
 cupant ; the stretcher had been brought, 
 and he who rested there yesterday was 
 now quietly sleeping in the dead-house — 
 a sleep from which no "bugle call" 
 would ever arouse him again to fight the 
 battles of his country — a sleep from 
 which he would only awaken when sum- 
 moned to answer the roll-call, in the 
 presence of his Maker, at the great day 
 of judgment. I passed on and found 
 David more comfortable, still full of 
 peace, but desiring if possible to reach 
 his friends before he died. He was sent 
 home, and lived to reach them ; but I 
 believe, only survived a few days. God 
 grant that he found the everlasting rest. 
 Another David rises before me now, 
 of quite a different character, and with 
 
120 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 a very different history. One day, on 
 entering Dr. D 's pavilion, (the doc- 
 tor, who was so anxious lest his boys 
 should not treat me well ; ah, he need 
 not have feared, for but a few months 
 had elapsed before the greatest desire of 
 those boys' hearts became to pray him 
 into the kingdom,) I saw a most dejected 
 young man, with only one arm, sitting 
 listlessly by the fire, looking slovenly 
 and neglected. He must have been ori- 
 ginally a fine looking man, but the air of 
 languor about him, and the stooping 
 shoulders, took away all appearance of 
 manliness. "What is the matter," I 
 said, " that you look so sad?'' " Oh, 1 
 am tired, lonely and low-spirited." "I 
 see you have lost an arm ; is that your 
 trouble?" "No, ma'am, though I do 
 suffer much with that; but that is the 
 least part of my troubles ; I have sor- 
 rows that I cannot speak of, and this list- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 121 
 
 less life in the hospital I believe is kill- 
 ing me.'' " Do not give way so/' I said ; 
 "try to look on the bright side. Yon 
 have lost your arm, to be sure ; but I 
 know you would rather go without an 
 arm all your Hfe, than not to have par- 
 ticipated in this struggle. Perhaps your 
 private troubles are not so heavy as they 
 seem to you now, while you are rendered 
 morbid by sickness; let me bring you 
 some cheerful reading to divert your 
 mind.'' "I cannot read; my eyes are 
 too v/eak." Poor fellow, he was indeed 
 to be pitied. What could I do for him. 
 "Have you ever looked to Jesus for 
 comfort?" "No, I am not a Christian, 
 and do not feel even the energy to think 
 about it." "It is worth thinking about, 
 and will bring you a happiness that you 
 never dreamed of." "Perhaps so; but 
 I guess I do not care for it." 
 
 Day after day I made little calls upon 
 
122 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 him, ever trying to show what a cheerful 
 religion could do. By-and-by, the Spirit 
 of God came into that sad heart, and 
 now he commenced seeking in earnest. 
 All his languor left him ; his whole soul 
 was aroused ; still he did not find Christ. 
 One night he came to our '' ladies' kitch- 
 en" to see me ; and then came the same 
 
 confession that poor C had made. — 
 
 the same cause was keeping him back — 
 he could not kneel in the pavilion ; he 
 feared not the laughter so much as the 
 appearance of being better than he re- 
 ally was ; for he was indeed a manly fel- 
 low. "R ," I said, " this is getting 
 
 to be a serious matter with you : this is 
 the one thing that is keeping you away 
 from Christ." "I cannot kneel ; do not 
 ask me." "Are you willing to give up 
 all hope of becoming Christ's, from this 
 hour ?" " By no means ; but I can be a 
 Christian without doing this." "I fear 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 123 
 
 you will not. The struggle is between 
 you and the powers of darkness ; but you 
 will find if you make the attempt, that 
 there is One for you, stronger than all 
 they that be against you." " I cannot." 
 
 "Well, E , it seems to me as if I 
 
 could this night see the powers of heaven 
 and hell contending for your soul. I be- 
 lieve this is the great crisis of your life, 
 and if you yield to Satan, the hosts of 
 hell will shout with joy, that one more 
 soul is fettered for ever 5 and if jon are 
 brave and take your stand this very 
 night, the angels will strike their golden 
 harps, and sing loud songs of thanksgiv- 
 ing for another soul redeemed and safe 
 in the kingdom." He was of a very im- 
 aginative and poetic turn of mind, and 
 this conversation seemed to impress him 
 strongly. As he rose to go, I laid my 
 
 hand upon him, and said, "0 R , 
 
 do promise me. I believe this is to be 
 
124 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 the turning point in your life.'' " I can- 
 not ; it will be a fearful struggle." 
 
 The next morning I saw him approach- 
 ing, and my heart sank within me, for I 
 feared he had not knelt, and perhaps 
 never would. There was a subdued look 
 about him that I had never seen before — 
 not joyous, scarcely peaceful, but very 
 
 solemn. "Mrs. B , I did it! Thank 
 
 God, I had grace to do it ! I hope the 
 angels sang their song of joy last night. 
 But it was a fearful struggle. I feel like 
 a man who has been in conflict all night." 
 "Yes," I said, "and like wrestling Jacob, 
 you have prevailed." "I am stronger 
 now ; but still I walk timidly, fearfully." 
 
 I believe the angels did sing songs of 
 joy that night, for this new-born soul 
 was one that was to wield a powerful 
 sword against the enemy. He soon lost 
 all languor and depression, honored his 
 Saviour in evervthing he did, worked 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 125 
 
 night and clay to win souls to Christ, and 
 was. powerful in prayer. After he left 
 our island I followed him for years. It 
 seemed as if the struggle with which 
 he came into the kingdom helped to 
 strengthen and develop all his Christian 
 graces. He wrote me long and very 
 pleasant letters ; there was a peculiar 
 sort of a pathos about them, which I 
 judged was caused by his private sor- 
 rows, but they revealed the most beautiful 
 Christian faith. I have many letters 
 from him, speaking of his religious life in 
 camp, so many that I hardly know from 
 which to choose ; so I select the first.* 
 
 After speaking of his longing for a 
 higher Christian life in his soul, and his 
 greater longings for the joys that w^ere 
 to be revealed, he says, "Oh, how glo- 
 
 * Let me here state that these letters are given hter- 
 ally word for word. They are not my own composi- 
 tion, but are copied- iDrecisely as I received them from 
 the soldiers. 
 
126 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 rious it will be, when the spirit, freed 
 from all the clogging and afflicting weight 
 of the flesh, shall wing its way upward 
 into the pure regions of eternal joy and 
 felicity, and never tire of the city of our 
 God ] oh, how cheering the thought ! I 
 would not give up my hope for worlds of 
 wealth, empire, or dominion. This will 
 
 probably satisfy you, Mrs. B , that I 
 
 have peace in believing. If we do not 
 believe, we receive no support or peace 
 from anything. The enemy of souls tried 
 hard to shake my faith in Christianity, 
 but without the shadow of success. My 
 faith is as strong in the power of salva- 
 tion, and the evidences of my conversion, 
 as it is in the fact of my being alive." 
 
 " It is not hard to be faithful and stand 
 by our profession, if we only use the 
 means which are so plentifully provided 
 for us, and ever held up to our view by 
 our lovimr Saviour. Oh, how sweet to 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 127 
 
 lean on his strong arm for support, and 
 to hear him whisper, in tender loving 
 tones, ' Fear not, I am with thee even 
 unto the end.' Then, wdien trouble comes 
 like a rushing whirlwind, to look up, and 
 see his smile, and rest securely in his 
 bosom, saying, 'Thy w^ill, not mine, be 
 done ;' ' Do that which seemeth to thee 
 good.' What a support wdien our hopes 
 baffled or long deferred, is the love of 
 our dear Saviour. And when the soul 
 which does not know his love, and is well 
 nigh to despair, but turns to him with a 
 full purpose of heart, how tenderly is it 
 received ; all its wanderings forgotten, 
 while a Father's blessing is freely be- 
 stowed. Mrs. B , where should 
 
 I have been, if he had not had compas- 
 sion on me ?" 
 
 June 6, 1864, I received a letter 
 from him, which he had carried, partly 
 written, in his pocket, through a leaden 
 
128 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 shower. "For my own part, I have 
 never felt less depressed in spirits ; but 
 enjoy a sweet peace of mind, which is 
 more to me than anything earth can 
 give. Oh, to lean on the arm of Jesus, 
 during the storm of shell and shot 
 through which we have passed, is hap- 
 piness indeed. What a Saviour is ours ! 
 how tenderly he watches over his chil- 
 dren, leading them in safe paths, and 
 supporting them in every hour of need 
 and trial. It is very seldom now that I 
 pray for temporal benefits, although I 
 trust I am thankful for them ; but I seem 
 to be altogether employed in thinking of 
 my soul's eternal welfare. My constant 
 prayer is, ' Keep thou, God, m}^ soul 
 from death, and let not sin have domin- 
 ion over me.' ' Keep thou thy servant 
 in the narrow way.' I have not felt 
 concerned about my life— my only con- 
 cern is for the immortal part. If I never 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 129 
 
 should write again," he says, in closing, 
 " you will know I am prevented by some- 
 thing beyond my control; and if death 
 should call me to another world, rest as- 
 sured of my trust in my Saviour, who 
 said, ' I will that they whom thou hast 
 given me, be with me, where I am.' 
 This is enough for me. You will know 
 where to look for me." 
 
 Was not such a soul worth laboring 
 many months to save? After a while 
 his letters miscarried, and I lost all sight 
 of him ; but if he still lives, I doubt not 
 he is fighting bravely, under the banner 
 of the great Captain of his salvation. 
 
 '■>. 
 
 '%?>&) 
 
 Bugle Call. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 
 
 % 
 
 ^■^HEN the government ap- 
 propriated Davids' Island 
 for hospital purposes, I be- 
 lieve there was but a single 
 building upon it, and that a 
 sort of a hotel or house of refreshment, 
 used b}^ picnic parties in summer, the 
 only use, I imagine, to which the island 
 had been put. This was the very build- 
 ing, I think, which we afterwards con- 
 verted into a chapel for such of our men 
 as wished to attend religious service, and 
 by this time the number had become 
 quite large. There were, as I have before 
 stated, but few trees on the island, and 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 131 
 
 these few were near the spot where the 
 chapel was located. Its situation was 
 beautiful. It stood on rising ground at 
 the lower extremity of the island. The 
 little grove of trees in front of the build- 
 ing gave it a picturesque appearance, 
 while the background was nothing but 
 a continuous line of heavy rocks, gradu- 
 ally sloping to the water's edge. Many 
 an afternoon have I wandered off to 
 these rocks, there to sit and enjoy the 
 beautiful scenery, or to ponder over the 
 work Grod had given us to do. From the 
 chapel windows the view was so charm- 
 ing that I often during the service would 
 find ray eyes unconsciously wandering 
 to gaze on the beauties of nature as re- 
 vealed from these windows. No sound 
 was to be heard on that part of the isl- 
 and after the chapel bell ceased ringing, 
 and naught seemed to disturb the quiet 
 of nature, excepting now and then some 
 
132 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 little vessel lazily floating up the sound, 
 or spreading lier canvas to catch the 
 breeze. There never was a place that 
 made one look more from nature up to 
 nature's God. I think I never enjoyed 
 religious services more than in that little 
 chapel, and I certainly never enjoyed 
 any singing as I did when we all joined 
 in some soul-inspiring hymn, led by the 
 sweet voice of one of our ladies, who also 
 presided at the melodeon. I think God 
 drew very near to us there. 
 
 Our doctors, I am sorry to say, with 
 some few exceptions, did not very often 
 encourage us with their presence at our 
 services. We ladies saw but little of 
 them while on the island — never enter- 
 ing the wards until after they had left ; 
 and as a rule, we did not care to know 
 them, for we had too much work to do 
 for our sick boys to care to entertain 
 gentlemen. Yet now my mind reverts 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 133 
 
 pleasantly to more tban one kind friend 
 we made among those doctors, all of 
 whom I believe learned to respect us 
 and our work. One case only would I 
 refer to among them. He was a bright 
 young physician from B , and be- 
 longed to one of the oldest families of 
 that city. One day, meeting me on our 
 
 steamer, he said, "Mrs. B , I feel 
 
 yery hard towards jou ladies for the 
 way you treat us doctors.'' " What 
 have we clone?" I replied. ''Done! 
 Why 3^ou take no notice of us at all. 
 We too have left our homes, and are as 
 lonely as the men. We have nothing 
 to entertain us on this dull island, and 
 you will not ask us to 3"our kitchens.'' 
 ''Well," I said pleasantly, "we do not 
 mean to ask you either, and we do not 
 wish you ; we have too much to do for 
 our sick men to care to entertain gentle- 
 men, and we did not come to Davids' 
 
134 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 Island for that. Do you know what we 
 
 came for, Dr. P ?" ''I think there 
 
 is no mistaking what yon and Miss L 
 
 [my co-worker] came for. I believe you 
 came for nothing but your missionary 
 work ; but I do not think it is right or 
 kind." "Well," I said, "we have no 
 means of entertaining gentlemen ; but if 
 it will give you any pleasure, come, and 
 we will do our best to make your visit 
 agreeable." From that time he and I 
 became fast friends. 
 
 I had prayed God earnestly that I 
 might do some good by my conversa- 
 tions while on the steamer going to and 
 from New York. One day, not long 
 
 after this. Dr. P took a seat by me 
 
 on the deck of the steamer while I was 
 enjoying the scenery. I do not know 
 how it came about, except that God 
 ordered it, but our conversation turned 
 upon the subject of religion, and I dis- 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 135 
 
 covered that he was a Unitarian. I 
 could not help expressing my regret that 
 he had left the dear Saviour out of his 
 religion, and thus lost the most of its joy. 
 Our conyersation was an earnest one, 
 and he opened his heart freely to me, 
 and I found Unitarianism had not fully 
 satisfied him. I prayed God to help me, 
 and tried to make him realize how dif- 
 ferent a thing religion was with or with- 
 out the sustaining presence of the divine 
 Saviour. When we reached the island 
 he thanked me warmly for the conver- 
 sation ; and afterwards, in speaking to 
 one of our ladies, he said, "I do not 
 know how I happened to open my heart 
 so freely to her." Doubtless the Saviour 
 intended taking possession of that warm, 
 manly young heart, and he led the way. 
 Soon after this he entered the navy, 
 and we heard no more from him, until, 
 much to my surprise, I learned that he 
 
136 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 was very ill, probably in hasty con- 
 sumption, and would be taken to liis own 
 home in B . This was sad news in- 
 deed, and I immediately resolved to 
 write him. I was told by one of our 
 doctors that his family did not wish him 
 to know his true condition, and that I 
 must be very careful how I worded my 
 letter. So I wrote of nothing but the 
 love of the dear Saviour, and how he 
 came to his children in their hour of 
 need, as I had seen him come in cases of 
 sickness and death in my own home. It 
 was full of Jesus — " Jesus only.'' I en- 
 closed it in a letter to his mother, leav- 
 ing it at her own discretion whether he 
 should hear it read or not. Soon I re- 
 ceived a reply from her, thanking me 
 for my letters and my interest in her 
 son. She said, " When your letter came 
 
 I did not think best to let H hear 
 
 it ; but he saw me reading it, and said. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 137 
 
 'Mother, whom is that letter from?' 
 
 'Mrs. B ,' was the reply, 'to me.' 
 
 'Strange, mother, she should not have 
 
 written to me.' 'She did, H , but I 
 
 cannot give it to you. I do not wish 
 you to be agitated by reading.' ' I must 
 have it, mother ; it is my own, give it to 
 me.' He read and reread," she said, 
 "ever seeming to find great comfort in 
 it." No further word came, until this 
 from his afflicted mother: "Our dear 
 one is with the angels. On Friday af- 
 ternoon he left us for his heavenly home. 
 His sufferings have been great from the 
 first ; but he was so patient, not a mur- 
 mur escaped his lips." She gives a full 
 account of his last moments, and makes 
 mention of his sister's saying to him : 
 
 "H , you are not afraid, for you 
 
 love Jesus, and are going to him." 
 "Yes, oh yes," was the reply. It was 
 all he could say, for speech failed him. 
 
138 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 Some months after, this sister called 
 upon me in my own home, saying she 
 should never cease to thank God for 
 sending her brother to Davids' Island, 
 and for giving me the desire to speak to 
 him. " How you helped him," she said. 
 " I was the only Trinitarian in the whole 
 family, and my great anxiety was for 
 my loved brother. I believe it was 
 your influence that led him to accept the 
 Saviour, for he did accept him entirely, 
 and just before he passed away he said, 
 ' I want you all to understand I am not 
 dying a Unitarian, but a Trinitarian.' " 
 
 During the past summer I visited his 
 home, and wept with those who wept for 
 their beautiful young brother cut down 
 in his youth ; wept as they pointed out 
 to me the garden in which he had wan- 
 dered, and the chamber from which he 
 had gone home to heaven ; and I shed 
 tears of joy too, that G.od had not only 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 139 
 
 permitted me to work with tbe soldiers, 
 but liad led me that winter's morning 
 on the steamer to speak to this lovely 
 young man those words which, perhaps, 
 had opened to him the gates of everlast- 
 ing life. Thank God in every way for 
 our Davids' Island work ! 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 FAREWELL TO THE ISLAND. 
 
 WOULD not convey to my 
 reader the impression that such 
 incidents as have been related 
 in this little narrative were pe- 
 culiar to my work, or came only under 
 my own observation. Our whole band 
 of workers were very faithful ; and if I 
 were permitted to relate the experiences 
 of my fellow- workers, they would doubt- 
 less be quite equal in interest to any- 
 thing that I met. 
 
 But now my work at Davids' Island 
 was drawino; to a close. For various 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 141 
 
 reasons I concluded it was best tbat I 
 should return to my home. Most of our 
 soldiers were now being sent either to 
 their homes or back to their regiments, 
 and our hospital was being filled with 
 our "prisoners of war." Shortly before 
 my departure, one of our ladies came to 
 me, saying, " Such a man, in such a pa- 
 vilion, wishes to see you. He says you 
 have been the means of his conversion." 
 '' It is a mistake," I replied. " 1 do not 
 know him, and have never conversed 
 with any such person." " Well, per- 
 haps not ; but he says it was you." That 
 morning, while on my usual round of 
 visits, I entered the pavilion where he 
 was lying. " Good morning, my friend," 
 I said ; " I am very glad to come in and 
 see you, but I am not the lady you re- 
 ferred to." " Oh yes you are." " You 
 are mistaken, my friend ; I never saw 
 you before." "You did, and your one 
 
142 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 conversation with me has been the 
 means of my conversion.'' I did not 
 like to contradict him, yet I was so as- 
 sured of his mistake that I felt it was 
 not honorable to. take the credit of hav- 
 ing helped him, when doubtless it would 
 bring joy to the heart of some other 
 lady to see the results of her work. " I 
 would be most happy, ray friend, to 
 have been the means of leading you to 
 a better life ; but I am so sure of never 
 having met you before, that I should 
 really like to know to which of the 
 ladies you have reference.'' "Yourself, 
 and only yourself. What can I do to 
 convince you ? If I should show you a 
 Testament with my name and your name 
 written by your own hand, and a text of 
 Scripture marked, which text has been 
 the means of my conversion, would you 
 then'be satisfied ? " The Testament was 
 produced. The handwriting was my 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 143 
 
 own, it could not be questioned. I could 
 doubt no longer. " You once addressed 
 me, on passing through our pavilion, 
 gave me this Testament, and never spoke 
 to me after that. I often wondered why 
 3^ou did not do so, but I had not the 
 courage to address you." "Ah, my 
 friend, you have made a great mistake," 
 I replied. "I would have been only too 
 happy to have spoken again. My mem- 
 ory is good for faces ; but is it strange 
 that, among two thousand men, I cannot 
 always remember which are my own 
 patients ? " How the little leaven had 
 worked, and what cause of gratitude had 
 I ! Only one brief conversation, and 
 that to have been the means of the 
 man's conversion ! "I am going home," 
 he said, "to a Christian wife, and how 
 happy this good news will make her ! " 
 
 "So is the kingdom of Grod, as if a 
 man should cast seed into the ground, 
 
144 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 and should sleep and rise night and day, 
 and the seed should spring and grow up 
 he knoweth not how." Mark 4 : 26, 27. 
 It was the work of the Holy Spirit, and 
 that was all we could say. 
 
 In this place let me state that such 
 conversions as these that took place in 
 our army were not models of conversion 
 for all times and places. God was fitting 
 men for a peculiar work. Many of them 
 felt that death was very near, that time 
 was short, and what they had to do for 
 their soul's salvation they must do at 
 once and surely. Many of them were 
 men of great decision of character, ac- 
 customed to decide quickly, and act at 
 once on their decisions ; and their inter- 
 est once awakened, they brought the 
 same promptitude into the matter of re- 
 ligion. And, on the other hand, I have 
 never supposed that all those men who 
 were thus emotionally excited to begin 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 145 
 
 a new life, held out faithfully to the end. 
 Doubtless some seed only fell b}^ the 
 wayside, and the fowls of the air came 
 and devoured it up ; some on stony 
 ground, which had not much depth, and 
 when the sun was up it was scorched, and 
 because it had no root it withered away ; 
 and some fell among thorns, and the 
 thorns grew up and choked it, and it 
 yielded no fruit ; but, thank God, some 
 fell on good ground, and did yield 
 fruit ; that sprang up, and increased, 
 and brought forth, some thirty, some 
 sixty, some a hundred fold. Mark 4 : 4. 
 And, doubtless, at the last great day, 
 while we shall find some missing whom 
 we expected and hoped to see, we shall 
 also find some like this poor man, in 
 whom the seed has taken root and 
 sprung up so noiselessly that we did not 
 even recognize its existence. May we, 
 then, have the consciousness that ''we 
 
 Evisle Call. 10 
 
146 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 did what we could " to help on this glo- 
 rious work. 
 
 About this time I left the island, and 
 returned to my own home, occasionally, 
 however, going back to spend a few 
 days in cheering my old patients who 
 were still left. 
 
 Sometimes wdien I would enter a pa- 
 vilion where I was pretty well known, it 
 was refreshing to see the look of joy 
 that welcomed me, and how quickly all 
 dejection would pass from the counte- 
 nances of those tried men. My old friend 
 
 C , one of the first fruits of my work 
 
 on the island, was still there, retained 
 as wardmaster in one of the pavilions 
 in which were our "prisoners of war." 
 
 "Mrs. B ," he said to me one day, 
 
 "wont you come in and see some of my 
 sick boys?" "I cannot," I replied; "my 
 work here, vou know, has been to nurse 
 our own soldiei's, not the Southerners. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 147 
 
 Do not ask it of me." "I know you 
 well eiioiigli to be certain that if I could 
 get you in my pavilion once, you w^ould 
 not go out until you had learned not 
 only to pity, but to love, some of those 
 poor boys. Do come in." How could I 
 refuse? He did know me well enough, 
 and I knew mj^self so well that I did 
 not want to go in, fully realizing that my 
 sympathies would all be roused at the 
 sight of suffering. 
 
 Two there were in whom he took an 
 especial interest, and with those he de- 
 sired me to converse. Both were very 
 young, and both suffering much. One 
 had been obliged to have his leg ampu- 
 tated. Poor lads, they grieved as much 
 as we did that this dreadful struggle 
 was so separating our people, and longed 
 as we did to see it soon come to an 
 end. They seemed much interested in 
 the simple story of Christ's love, as 
 
148 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 I always told it, and promised to try 
 and lead a Christian life, C promis- 
 ing to help them. He was right; for 
 when I left them, my heart had warmed 
 to them, and I forgot they were south- 
 ern soldiers, only remembering that they 
 were suffering men, and needing a Sav- 
 iour. Oh, how quickly does the love of 
 the dear Saviour in the heart break 
 down all the barriers which keep men 
 apart ! I would like to quote a few lines 
 from a letter received some time after- 
 wards from my friend C , the ward- 
 master : "The young men you were 
 talking with when here last have left. 
 They wished to be remembered to you. 
 
 McGr was very sick after you were 
 
 here. His leg had to be amputated 
 again. I was so sorry for him. Almost 
 every day he would inquire of me when 
 ' that lady ' was coming again. He was 
 almost well when he left. W. ^Y • 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 149 
 
 improved so much that he could walk 
 all around the island. His father came 
 to see him, and he is soon to go home. 
 
 Mrs. B , I could not help loving the 
 
 boys if they were 'secesh,' and I know 
 they both loved me, for they cried like 
 children when they bade me good-by." 
 So it w^as. The peace of God in these 
 hearts had broken down all distinction 
 between North and South. May this 
 sweet spirit of peace continue to be 
 poured out until all bitterness shall have 
 passed away for ever, and our wdiole na- 
 tion shall be one in Christ Jesus. 
 
 ^/m 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 ND now I must bid farewell 
 to my patient reader, only 
 
 ^rr{/^f^ hoping that this little book 
 -^^^r^ may give him half the pleas- 
 ure in reading that it has the 
 writer in preparing it. I have made no 
 apology in bringing it before the public, 
 and intend making none. It is only a 
 simple recital of facts, entirely true, as 
 God permitted me to see and take a part 
 in them. I send it forth in great weak- 
 ness, but trusting in His power to make 
 it effectual to the salvation of souls. If, 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 151 
 
 when I reach my home in glory, I shall 
 meet one single soul that has been 
 helped there by this little volume, I 
 shall be abundantly compensated for my 
 labor ; and yet I pray, "God grant that 
 it may not be one, but many ; " and to 
 His name shall be all the glory. 
 
 Still one more desire there is that 
 rests heavily upon my heart, to which I 
 would give utterance before I close. It 
 is that others may be encouraged by 
 this simple statement of facts to work 
 for the dear Saviour. There is no work 
 that compensates as does this. Other 
 things are unsatisfying ; this, never. 
 
 Do not misunderstand me. I do not 
 say that we never grew wearied, nay, at 
 times, almost discouraged ; yet there 
 ever came to us such a sustaining feel- 
 ing, as the grandeur of the work stood 
 out before us ; such a sense of the small- 
 ness of the thin":s of this "life, and the 
 
152 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 greatness of eternal things ; the honor, 
 to worms of the dust like ourselves, of 
 being permitted to lead souls into 
 Christ's kingdom ; that we were filled 
 with a joy unspeakable. Sometimes w^e 
 went through very trying scenes, yet 
 never did we for a single instant wish 
 we had not undertaken the work. We 
 only wondered why, when so few women 
 had been called to this glorious privilege, 
 we should have been permitted to be- 
 long to that favored few. For myself, I 
 can truly say that I would rather have 
 the most sacred memories of my whole 
 life blotted out than the remembrance of 
 those few months spent in preaching the 
 gospel to my suffering and dying coun- 
 trymen. 
 
 Sometimes, after passing through some 
 peculiarly trying scene, the question 
 would arise for an instant in my heart, 
 "Is this proper work for refined and 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 153 
 
 delicate women ? " I would pause, and 
 there would seem to come a voice almost 
 from heaven, saying, "He that taketh 
 not up his cross and followeth after me, 
 is not worthy of me." How well do I 
 remember one time, when there were 
 many souls who appeared to be just hes- 
 itating as to whether they would decide 
 for Christ, and I felt that they needed 
 my presence almost every hour to 
 strengthen their weak resolutions ; and 
 yet God laid me for a few days on a 
 bed of sickness. Never did impatient 
 child, longing for its promised pleasure, 
 chafe under its delay as did I at being 
 kept away from my sick patients. I 
 could not trust them with God, but felt 
 that I was necessary to the work, and 
 every hour seemed an age. He taught 
 me patience ; yet never did I rise from 
 any sick bed to engage in worldly 
 amusement, with half the joy that I re- 
 
154 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 turned to that which would seem to one 
 untaught of the Spirit nothing but a 
 weary round of hospital duties, but 
 which was in reality work like that 
 which the Son of God came down to do, 
 and a privilege beyond all estimation. 
 One lady there was in our number who 
 talked but little, though she felt much. 
 She became exceedingly interested in a 
 very sick man, and labored earnestly 
 for his salvation. After many weeks of 
 patient waiting, she entered my room 
 one day, and throwing her arms around 
 my neck, burst into tears. Quite sur- 
 prised at seeing her thus lose her self- 
 control, I inquired what was the matter. 
 "Oh, the joy, the joy," she ejaculated, 
 "that God has given to me this day. 
 
 E , I doubt not, has at last become a 
 
 Christian; and he says, through God's 
 blessing, it is owing to my labors. What 
 have I done that I should be thus 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 155 
 
 blest? Never have I had a joy that 
 equalled this." This was the language 
 of a most lovely and attractive woman, 
 who had had earth's richest blessings 
 laid at her feet. 
 
 I know many are timid and fearful ; 
 but fear not ; God will give you courage 
 and grace, if you will but commence 
 the work. One such I knew, who said, 
 " I can nurse, but I can neither speak 
 nor pray ; it is impossible." One day I 
 I urged upon her strongly the necessity 
 of addressing the men on the subject of 
 personal religion. "I cannot; do not 
 urge it." I said, "He that taketh not 
 his cross and followeth after me is not 
 worthy of me." Matt. 10 : 36. I pressed 
 the matter strongly. She went back to 
 the hospital that afternoon, and in a day 
 or two came to me saying, "Thank God, 
 you made me promise that day to speak. 
 When I returned to the hospital, God 
 
156 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 opened my moiitli, and I spoke earnest- 
 ly. That man is now seeking Christ, 
 and oh, how happy am I ! " 
 
 Many souls since has she helped to 
 Jesus ; and never since has she ceased 
 to thank God for enabling her that af- 
 ternoon to resolve to take up her cross 
 and follow him. 
 
 I speak not now of the future, only 
 of the present compensation the work 
 brings. Undertake it, timid child of God, 
 at once. Go forth in his name, and the 
 power of his might. Fear nothing. He 
 will give you grace. Trust to him, not 
 to yourself, and you will be surprised to 
 see how soon the gifts and graces of the 
 Spirit will fall upon you, and how easy 
 that will become which now looks so dif- 
 ficult ; and you will find a joy in this 
 work which you never have found in 
 any other. 
 
 Then think of the reward ! Oh, the 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 157 
 
 glorious reward of reaching your home, 
 and finding some awaiting to welcome 
 3"ou who might never have been there 
 but for your efforts! Then, when you 
 realize what the joy of life everlasting 
 is, what a crown of rejoicing will this be 
 to you ! And oh, the joy unspeakable of 
 hearing him say, "Inasmuch as ye have 
 done it unto one of the least of these, ye 
 have done it unto me. Well done, good 
 and faithful servant ; enter thou into the 
 joy of thy Lord." Think you not then 
 you will cast your golden crown in self- 
 abasement low at his feet, and thank 
 him for the privilege of leading sinners 
 home to glory? 
 
 Christian, take this joy which stands 
 waiting for you. Hesitate no longer to 
 take up a work which angels might envy 
 the privilege of doing, and yet which 
 may be yours if you will but accept it. 
 Souls are perishing, men are dying ev- 
 
158 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 erywliere. Only look about you ; you 
 will soon find work enough to do. God 
 help you to resolve at once to be a co- 
 worker with Christ. This little volume 
 will not have been written in vain, nor 
 this "Bugle Call" sounded for naught, 
 if it helps one timid soul to commence 
 the w^ork, "looking unto Jesus, the au- 
 thor and finisher of our faith, who, for 
 the joy that was set before him, endured 
 the cross, despising the shame, and is 
 now set down at the right hand of the 
 throne of God." Heb. 12 : 2. 
 
 The Song of a Tired ^eryant, 
 
 "One more day's work for Jesus! " 
 One less of life for me ! 
 
 But heaven is nearer, 
 
 And Christ is dearer, 
 Than yesterday to me ; 
 
 His love and light 
 
 Fill all my soul to-night. 
 
THE BUGLE CALL. 159 
 
 *' One more day's work for Jesus ! " 
 How glorious is mj King ! 
 'Tis joy, not duty, 
 To speak liis beauty ; 
 My soul mounts on the wing 
 At the mere thought 
 How Christ her life hath bought. 
 
 "One more day's work for Jesus ! " 
 Sweet, sweet the work has been 
 
 To tell his story. 
 
 To show the glory 
 Where Christ's flock enter in ; 
 
 How it did shine 
 
 In this poor heart of mine ! 
 
 "One more day's work for Jesus ! " 
 In hope, in faith, in j^rayer, 
 
 His word I 've spoken, 
 
 His bread I 've broken 
 To souls faint with despair ; 
 
 And bade them flee 
 
 To him who hath saved me. 
 
 '' One more day's work for Jesus ! '* 
 Yes, and a weary day ; 
 
 But heaven shines clearer, 
 And rest comes nearer 
 At each step of the way ; 
 And Christ is all ; 
 Before his face I fall. 
 
160 
 
 THE BUGLE CALL. 
 
 Oh, blessed work for Jesus ! 
 Oh, rest at Jesus' feet ! 
 
 There toil seems pleasure. 
 
 My wants a treasure, 
 And pain for him looks sweet ; 
 
 Lord, if I may, 
 
 I '11 serve another day. 
 
 l/\ jKf wo N D E li P li L, ^ 
 U^:\^^ COUNSEL LOR, Ifil 
 ,^ MIGHTY COD, 
 SEverlasting Falhs