vkl and in the hospital, the Rev. George
M logins, will now address yon.
Rev. George J. Minsrins’ Address.
Mk. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen :
lion, in 1861, in the month of November, the
r:ous representatives of the Young Men's
ration Associations of the loyal North m r f
rnther to organize the United States C’-
.in Commission, they aslicd and answer j ’
mplc question. It was this :- What -* 1
ho are at home, surrounded by ’ I 1
rts, recipients of every bless’ - • In
■ eace with each other, have the
>hipping God beneath our tit
tree-what can we do for r P ™® A l s n
nave left their homes a u that is near and
safety ? This b . le3Bm g a of peace and
this f),f.op m p. ,/*** *ne simple question. For
we are cat 1 bave been held. For this
stand Dr that you may under
nr tl .p Atoely the simple, practical workings
!, J - Christian Commission. • They are held
lfifal people of the North may be
>• ousted toja true sense of their own responsi
bility in This matter. We desire that every
man andevery woman belonging to the loyal
■ orth may look at this matter a-right, and be
. e^w- ?C *° fheir duty, so that onr national
vxistetco may be sustained, and we may go oh
brighter, grander, nobler, truer nation in the
. ituve than we have been in the past.
Although the United States Christian Com
mission has received the co-operation of vast
Lumbers of the Christian Church, (for, mark
J ou ji this is a Christian Commission,) and de
pends mainly on the offerings, the tharik-offer
.ngs of Christian hearts—although they have
received largely of the contributions of the loy
al Christian people of the North, yet there are
hundreds still, and thousands, in all parts of
our Union, that have, as yet, done little or
nothing for the Union’s defenders.
Mr. President, I have not the honor to be
native to this manor born." 4 I first saw the
light in good old Scotland. Her sunlight first
slanted adown the hillside into the valley where
my mother’s cot was nestled; and I am ready
to confess, sir, that when this great and gigan
tic’war burst over pur land, 1 .used to look on
coldly, uot understanding thoroughlythe great
principle which prompted men to leave their
home and carry their lives in their hands that
they might save the ’land of Washington; and
when I used to see soldiers going-to the war, I
used to'indulge iu a sort of vain philosophy
that I know a great many men indulge in to
’fused to say, “ Now these men like to
fight; I don't. Therefore they are right in
going to'fight, and 1 am right in-staying at
home." Or, I used to say, “Now these men
want-fame, they want a name, they want posi
tion. lam perfectly satisfied with what I have
and what I am.. “It is right for them to battle
for fame; it is right for me to live quietly in all
humility.” And I .flung around my shoulder the
philosopher’s robe and stand unmoved as I saw
men passing before me going' to ; battle and to
death, and quiet my conscience with this mise
rable'philosophy'that will never stand before
the intelligent, the great, and the noble, and
that the very devil despises! (Applause.)
A touching little incident, Mr. President!
converted me from the 1 error of my way, and, if
you will permit me, I will relate it—for I con
fcss it was a great turning point of my life, I
feel it so now. I happened to be in attendance
on a meeting of Synod in the city of Easton, at
the time when our honorable Chief Magistrate
called ont 75,000 men to beat back the. foe
that was going forward to desecrate this holy
temple* I stood in the street one day, and
heard the sound of martial music. I saw the
men marching down. I knew who they, were
the moment I saw them—sturdy yeomen who
had left the hills of Pennsylvania and poured
along her valleys, who had left their fields, and
looms, and benches, their wives and little ones,
their homes and all that they held dear, to
stand up in front of the foe that had risen up
against us. When I saw them, my old philo
sophy came up, because I must have something
to comfort me, you know. ; '
Just them I saw a little girl standing on the
door step. She was ten or twelve years of
age, I should, judge. As I looked in her face
my attention was aroused. I thought 1 saw a
deep cloud of sorrow come over ana rest upon
that little brow. She stood with her hands
clasped tightly, and her little face seemed
pinched with very agony. And I thought
well now, what can be the matter with that
child ? I determined to watch her emotion, so
1 took my stand pear by. The music sounded
nearer and nearer. By and by the heavy
tramp of men was heard. As they drew near
to us, I saw that little form becoming more
fixed and rigid—the little hands began to qui
ver, her neck was stretched out with eager in
tensity, and she stood with eyes fairly riveted
upon the men ffs they came marching slowly
by the door. At last I was startled with the
penetrating little voice, as it cried out, “ Oh!
that’s him ! that’s him 1 it's,pa! it’s pal he’s
going 1 (he's going! -he’s, gone!” and, with sob
bing, she turned away and entered into the
house.
Now conscience, just at that .time,, asked me
one or two very ugly questions. One question
that it asked me was, "Well, what was the
matter with the child ?” The answer was at
hand. I knew that that man who had marched
to defend the Onion Was her father, that he
was her-all, that he was her comfort, her joy,
her support, her sustenance, and when that
little one had given up that, she had given up
the very,sunlight of her little existence, lite
rally'her all. And then conscieace asked me
another question. It said, “ Well, sir, what
have .you done for your country ?” I whis
pered, “ Well—hut—but I don’t really belong
to the country!’’ (Laughter.) “ Don’t belong
to the.country then, you infernal scamp,get
out .df it.” (Laughter and loud applause.)
“ CM out of it! this is not the country‘for
men who belong nowhere—it is somewhere
elsei!” (Continued applause.). “Don’t be
long to it !” and memory carried toe' back
many A year when I first landed upon the hos
pitable shores a poor unknown lad, when, year
after year, I struggled, and, at every step I
took, I met sunlight, and Warm hearts and ge
nerous .natures, and all’the highroad to an ho
nest and a true ambition opened up before me.
And “ not belong to the country 1 1 , Then quit
it, and give up all you .received from it
and have in at.” “Well, but," conscience in
terposed. “you got a wife here." “.Yes, and
I would not give her up for a great ‘deal. I
thought—no, I cannot quit it”—and then the
blush of very .shame mantled* my cheek, and,
standing lu that street in Easton, as I looked
back at the silent, dumb door that had closed
upon that brave and God-like little patriot, I
determined that though not “ native to the ma
nor born," I would allow no man living here to
outdo me so far as I had the ability, ia uphold
ing and sustaining and defending the nation
that had been my generous and my noble be
nefactor.
But conscience was not done with me yet.
I walked down the street. I saw the iaine
company of men drawn up in line. I saw an
oil) woman who was pulling a thin shawl about
her. Ah, she whs one of the poor of the earth.
She hurried on, eagerly, anxiously scanning the
faces of the men as she came. At last she
stopped before a great, tall, raw-boned fellow
who was joking with his companions. “ Well,
boys,” ho said, " we’re going off ar’n’t we?”
And they Baid, “ Yes, we are." He had a lit
tie bundle, tied up with a red handkerchief, in
his arm. ' “ When' we get there, maybe we
■won’t give them fits, eh ?” They said, “ May
be we won’t?” They seemed to be making
the samelaistake with some of us just about
that time, tgi none of us had any . Idea that
fn onr ‘ fesol * tin 6 shadow was rising up j
throno-t* 1 ‘ rtTl tbe woman pushed her way
His e •“ cro ' W( H and stood before this man.
CO' ■'■U''® Stopped in a moment, and bis face was
v vered with emotion as he turned his head,
jfled his finger to his eyes, and shook ft with a
twirl—“ Now, mother, mother! You promised
me. that you wouldn’t come out, didn’t ye ?
Now you promised me. When I said 1 good
bye ’ to ye, mother, I told ye I didn’t want you
to come out here and unman tne, and here
you’ve done it! Now I wish you hadn’t!”
The old woman lifted her hands up, and putting
them on the great high shoulders of her son as
the tears streamed down her furrowed cheeks,
she said, “Oh, Jack, don’t scold me, don’t
scold your poor old mother, Jack, you know
ye’re all I have, Jack, and I didn’t come out
to unman ye, I didn’t come out t<>unman ye—
I have come to say God bless ye, Jack, God
bless ye 1 ” and folding-the thin shawl over her
, bosom .she went away. The big fellow drew
the sleeve over his face, and bringing down his
arm witha sort of vexed emphasis, as if to. defy
! the emotion he could not conceal, turning to
the men, he said, “ hang it, boys, she’s mother,
! you know ! 1 ’ There I felt' will be a brave man
in the field. He’s a noble, a true fellow. Men
■ who have a right and-true appreciation of their
: country’s cause, are lovers of their home and of
their mother. It is unnecessary to say that
conscience had done its work faithfully with
1 me that time !
And how When I heard, Mr. Chairman, that
■ the Christian Commission designs to follow
i these men wherever they go, with their homes
: and the influences of the loved ones there, that
it was to be, as you have heard, a home-link of
the war, I could not but admire and support it.
. When this Christian Commission was organ
. ized, many said, “ Now I hope you will stick
. to your legitimate business.” Well, we say,
• “ Pray what is the legitimate business of the
Christian Commission?” “Well, it is the
giving of tracts, and prayer-books, and Testa
ments, and all sorts of good books; it is preach
ing, and pray, and taming with the men, and
! it is not anything else.” Now I was sent out
/ by the worthy Chairman of this Christian,Com
; mission in May, 1861, to see if there was 'any
thing to do for an organization like this within
■ the lines of the army, and in the second place,
if.tkere’wqp, to see how we could do it. We
found there was plenty to do ; and I found that
there was only one way of doing it, and that
was by following the example set us by the
■ Master. Now I have not the slightest respect
! for, nor the slightest faith in that Christianity
• that goes into the deepest cellar or into the
highest garret, and beholds the poor, wretched
, beings there, , dressed in rags and shivering in
the cold, and pitches a sermon at the poor
things’ heads. It is not the religion of my Lord
and Master that does this. For I remember
that when he stood upon the earth 'his hands
were always busy, and his great heart , was
always drawn out in sympathy for the poor and
lowly, and he ministered to their bodies as well
as to their souls. When the poor leper came
to him, saying, “ Lord, if thou wilt thou canst
make me clean, ” he first healed the man’s body
and then talked to him of his soul’s welfare.
However, in this work in the army we soon
find out from the soldier himself the kind of
religion he wants. The soldier is the best judge,
after all, of this. One of our delegates, in the
early history of the Commission, approached a
soldier who seemed very tired and worn, and
holding in his hand a tract, he said', extending
it to him, “ My good friend, will you have a
tract?” “No, but I’llhavea cracker!" was
the> quick reply, and the delegate said, pardon
me, I did not know you were hungry, my good
fellow, or I would not give you the tract first,”
and putting his Hand in his satchel, he pulled
out a nice Boston cracker, and said, “take
this, and if that is not sufficient, if you will wait
ten miniites till I run over to the Christian
Commission’s tent, I;will bring- yeivasmuehas
you want.” The fellow’s eye brightened, he
was moved, as he said, “ Weil, stranger, excuse
me, I didn’t want to be impertinent, But I tell
you I was hungry, that’s a fact, and when you
offered me that tract I thought I would mueh
rather have a cracker, and I said so ! But give
me the tract, too, stranger, give it to me. I
promise you I will read.it, and keep it, for if this
is the kind of religion you men of the Christian
Commission bring down to the soldiers in the
army, it’s just what they want.’’:: And from
the first time that its delegates have set out for
the lines of the army up to this present time,
the universal testimony, I say it boldly, of every
man who has come in contact with the Ohris :
tian Commission, lias been, “that it’s just'
THE VERT THING FOR THE ARMY! [Much
applause.]
The Rev. M. Parvinhas given you some idea
as to how the Commission’s delegate goes to
work. Out of these 1,200 delegates every man
has acted upon the simple principle of the organ
ization, that it is the duty of every man to do
something for his country., I suppose I have
what you may consider a curious definition of
jjatriotism. I believe that the word “ patriot”
means “ one who is willing to make sacrifices
for his country.” But you know “ there are
many men of different minds," and I have met
sdfP who would come down to the breakfast
table at the hotel, with the luxuries of life
spread out before them, and their newspapers
-in hand, very complacently,leamback, and with
pompous air bolt out an oathfrom their unclean
throats, “By George, I told you so; the Gov
ernment is going to smash—it is a wreck
already ! ” and they would grumble and growl,
and yet think themselves true patriots—indeed,
if you doubted their patriotism they would be
come excessively angry! I may be mistaken,
but the only patriotism it is right to acknow
ledge, in my opinion, in presenting tliis_cause
before the people of‘.the North, is this; that
whether this war be right or wrong, every man
is bound to do what he can to relieve the suf
fering of those men'wbo are fightingfor him,
to bind up their broken bodies, and pour the oil
of soothing upon the weak and weary, wound
ed soldiers.
You may ask me how. are these ministrations
of delegates received by the soldiers ? I have
been out several times as delegate, and I testify
that I have always been received Most kindly
by them. I met with but brie exception. He
was an Irishman. I do not say this to cast any
reflection upon our Irish, fellow-citizens; for I
remember well when I stood aV the battle-field
of Antietam, that I was pointed out a ditch
which lay full of .the rebel Head, and when I
asked, “ Whose work is this ? ” I was answer
ed,'” The'lrish brigade, sir! ” and I said then,
“ God bless them ! ” and so I say now, if, that
is the way they , do 1 CApplause, j And I say
God bless all whom America lias received from
foreign countries, and made them sous, and
may he confound all Who, walking and living
in the sunlight of its prosperity, defile her with
curses and trample upon the bosom that has
nourished them.
Well, notwithstanding that,-this was a very
tough old Irishman, I assure you. It was at a
time when a great many were sick at Yorlt
townwith the typhoid fever and chronic dysen
tery—men who had marched and marched, and
dug and delved, and marched again, until they
were completely broken down. A great many
of them hod no clean shirts on—for they had
worn them long. I had got a large supply, and
was goiiig through the tent giving them to the
poor fellows. And here let me illustrate the
Commission’s proceeding in such eases. When
word came that the men wanted shirts, we did
not go back to the tent and hold a council of
war over it. One did not rise and say, “ Now,
do you think that man,has a shirt ? Do you
really think'it?” And after considering a
while, and discussing the point, they conclude
he has not. “ Well, do yon think wc had bet-,
ter give him one?” is asked, and it is ageed
that it would be advisable to do so. “ I pro
pose, then, that we give him a shirt,” says one,
“ Is it seconded? ” “ It is.” “ It is moved
and seconded that this man have a shirt. All
in favor say aye.” They say'aye, and thesbirt
is procured, But) 1 says one, ‘ ‘ How long' have
you been here, my friend ? " “ Seven weeks.”
“ Oh, then, you. must give the man the shirt,
fll 1 1. A Pul. I’ H| A, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY, 18, 1864.
because you are live senior officer here! ”
And at last the poor man srets the needed
garment.
No, no, it is nothing like this that the Com
mission goes to work. I had gone to the
needy men and distributed what I had. I came
to this Irishman. “My dear friend,” said I,
‘ ‘ how are yon ? You seem to be an old man? 5 ’
“ Store and .1 am tin onld man, sir!” “ Well,
how pame you here, in the army, old as you
are ?” “ Och, sir, I’m not only an ould man,
hut an ould soldier, too, I’d have ye know.”
He had been twenty years in the British service
in the East Indies, and had fought America’s
foes in Mexico. “Yes, sir,” he continued,
“ I’m old, and I know it, but I’m not too old
to shoulder a musket and hit a rap for the ould
flag yet !” ("Applause.) “ You’re a bravo
fellow,” said I, “ and I’ve brought these things
to make you comfortable," as I held out to him
a shirt and drawers. He looked at me. Said
he, “ What 1 thirn things f" “ Yes, I want to
give them to you to wear.” “ Well, I don’t
want them!” “ You do want them.” “Well,
I don’t 1” and he looked at me and then at' the
goods, and said somewhat sharply as I urged
them again, “Niver mind, sir,"l don’t want’
them, and I tell ye, I won’t have them I”
“ Why ?” “ Shure,” said he, “do ye take me
for an object of charity ?” That was a kind of
poser. I looked at him! “No, sir,” said I,
“I do not take you for an object of charity,
and I don’t want you to look upon me as a
dispenser of charity tother, for-1 ara not.”—
“Well, what are you, thin?” “I am a dele
fate of the United States Christian Commission.
have left my home and my church, and I
have come down here to serve the brave fellows.
I have washed their feet, and have dressed
them, and every thing that a muse could do,
for the sick and suffering men here. I came as
a delegate from the loyal Noith, bearing the
thank offerings of mothers, and wives, and sis
ters to you brave defenders of die Stars and
Stripes.” And I thought, surely, after such a
speech as that, I would get hold of the .old fel
low’s heart. But he looked at me and said,
“ Any how, Iwon't have them, /” ("Laughter.)
I felt really wounded. I did not at all like’ it.
I have told you he was an Irishman, and I
happened to be a Scotchman, and somehow:
yon scarcely ever see an Irishman and Scotch-,
man meet without -there is a row. I couldn’t ,
help it, but it ,is sp,,that I didn’t like the idea
of that old irishman’s bluffing, me off so. i
Was determined npt to be conquered. I meant
to try further) and when a Scotchman means
to tryia' thing'he will come very near doing it.
)Laughter.> ' I didn’t forget any obligations-,
however, the cause I was serving, and that I
was a Christian man. I didn’t'talk any fur
ther then, but determined to prove by toy acts,
my deeds, that I had come down to do this old
man and his fellows good. So day after day I
went about my work, nursing, giving medicines,,
cleaning up the tent, and doing any thing and ,
everything that I could. One day as I went '
in, a soldier said, “There’s good news to-day,
Chaplain.” “ Ah, what is it ?” “ The pay-,
master’s come.” “ Well, that is good news.” i
“ Yes, but not to me, chaplain.” . “ How is
that.?” “ I’ve not.got my descriptive list, and
if a fellow’s not got that, the paymaster may
•come and'go, and lib’s none the better off for
it.” “ Well, why don’t you get it ?” “ I
can’twrite,chaplain, I am suffering from chronic
rheumatism.” '“ Shall I write foryou ?” ; “If:
you only would, cHaplain !” I hauled out papier"
and pencil, asked the number of Ms regement, *
name of bis captain, his company, &c.l todsenk
a simple request that the descriptive list might
be remitted to that point., 'When I had. done
this I found a good many who wanted tlieir
lists, and I went on writing them until I'cdinie
to the cot next to the old Irishman’s. It, was
occupied by another Irishman. I said to him
“ my friend have you your descriptive list ?’ 1
“No.” “■ ShallLwrite to your captainfor.it?”
“If you please,” and I began to write. I no.-
‘ticed-thc old fristo^n'-otretidiiiiig'''overtoil
tention, listening to what I was saying. I
spoke now and then a word meant for him,
though I affected not to notice him.. After I
had written the request, ! said to the young
man ‘ 1 Shall I read ittoyou ?” ,“ If you please,
sir,” and I read aloud the simple note. When
I had done, the. old Irishman broke out with
“ Upon my sow), sir, you write the natest let
ther for a descriptive list : that I ever, heard in
my life 1 Store,-and a man would thinkye had
been a soldier, all. your days, you do write; so
nate a letther for a descriptive listl” I turned
around and said,Have you got yours ?”
“ An’ I haven’t, sir." “Do you want it?”
“ To be shure I do'!” he said, flaring up, “and
that’s a queer question to lax a man, does lie
want Ms descriptive list, does he want; his pay
to buy some little delicacies to send home to
the ould woman'and the childer 1 ’I do want
it, an’ if ye will lend us the shtroke of your
pen, chaplain, you’ll .oblige us.” X, sat down
and wrote the letter, and when I had done
said, “Now, boys, give .me your letters and I’ll
have them post-paid and sent for you.”
When I returned sad work awaited me, for a
delegate meets shadows as well as sunshine'in
Ms work. In that .tent were several of the
brave sons of New England. One of Massa
chusetts’ sons lay there dying. You could tell
it by the pale face, the sunken eye, and the pale
quivering lip. Then came' the delegate l ®-work
as the mimster of Christ. This Christian Com
mission, r Mr. Chairman, believes that men are
immortal, and that all the patriotism on God’s
earth will not open the gates of eternal glory tb
any soul unless it be Saved by the great mercy
of" God through Jesus Christ our' Lord;, aid
then drembling, remembering the terrible re
sponsibility that rests upon the living minister
standing by a dying man, we jtry'-to preach/.the
gospel to him. _ V " ’
I spoke to the dying boy of mother,'Of Jesus,
of home, of heaven, Q, mothers "who ate here
to-night, let me say .to yo’u Whate ve'r'else a-sol
dier forgets, he never, ■never, Never forgets Ms
mother. ~ •
And I will tell you, my friends, that is one of
the things I have noticed in an American army
that I believe is a great .characteristic of the
American heart, shat" it clings to home and
toother. I have stood by the cot of a dying
soldier, and stooping down to catch his last
breath, have heatd Him whisper ‘‘mother!" I
remember passing? Over a battle-field and seeing,
a man just dyingi iHisitoind i -was v) wandering.
His spirit was pO longer on that bloody field,
it was at , his . home, far away. ,/1 stood and
looked upon the poor fellow. A srnile passed
over his face—a smile, O, of so much sweetness,
as looking up he said, “ O,toother, O,toother!
lam so glad you have come.” And he seemed
as if she .was there by his side. By and by he
said again, “ Mother, it’s cold, it’s cold, won't
you pull the blanket over me.?” I stooped
down and pulled the poor fellow’s ragged
blanket .closer to his shivering form. And he
smiled again, “ That will do, mother, that will
do!” and he turned over and passed sweetly to
his rest, and he was born* np to the presence
of God on the wings of a pious mother’s pray
ers.
But to eome to the cas* in tb* teat. After
I had done all I could for the Massachusetts
boy, and had shook his hand in parting, I
turned to leave the tent, when just as I was
going odt of the door I happened to see-the
old Irishman. He looked vary queerly. There
was certainly something the matter with him.
He was rubbing his hands through his hair,
pulling his beard, and acting otherwise very
strangely; but I didn’t take much notice of
him, as I had been so solemnly engaged, when
he came up to me and. elaspirjg my hands, he
said, “Berne sowl, sir, you are no humbug,
anyhow!” “What do ybu want?” I said.
“O,” said he, “haven’t I watched you as day
by day ye’ve been going through the tent car
ing for the boys? Why, ye’ve been like a
mother to every one of them. Thanks to ye,
chaplain, thanks to ye, an’ may God bless ye,”
he repeated as he again Wrung my hand.
“And,” said he, “ve do this all for nothing;
the boys have been telling me about ye.”
“ O,” said I, “that’s a mistake.” “Well,
now, how’s that? They been tellin’ me that
ye were a Presbyterian minister, and that ye
came away from yere home, down here for the
love ye bad for the boys. But ye don’t do it
for nothing, eh ? Who, thin, pays ye, the Gov
ernment ?” “No. If it m- aos to pay me, it
would lake a great deal more money tbar. itcan
spare, I would not sell my experience to-day
for any price.” “-Well, does the Commission
payye?” “No.” “ Well, thin, if the Gov
ernment doesn’t pay ye, and the Commission
doesn’t who does pay ye ?" I looked the man
straight in the face and I said, “That honest,
hearty grasp of the hand, and that hearty
‘ God bless ye,’ is ample reward for all that I
have done for you. Remember, my brave fel
low, that you have suffered and sacrificed for
me r -aqd I couldn’t do less for you now.” He
was broken down. He bowed his head and
wept, and then taking me by the hand again,
saiwiL-:“ Shure, ah’ if tbat’B the pay ye take,
why God bless ye, God bless ye,. God bless ye!
.Ye’ll be rich with the coin of me heart all
your days.” And after a few moments pause,
he said,. “And now. chaplain, if ye will just
give us'the shirt and drawers, Pllwear them till
there's dot a thread of them left! (Cheers and
laughter.)
This incident will illustrate how we ap
proach the soldier, what we try to do fpr him,
andj'ho.w it is received, by him. I have already
occupied toy full time, but if you will permit
me) Mr. Chairman, I want to say a word as to
theigreat work of the Commission, after all.
It sends its stores, and cares for the bodies of
men because it is Christ-like to do it; and be
cause it gives it the key to the men’s hearts,
tb ’ s ls ,its grand aim, to benefit and save'
the soul—to teach the men: that it is “ not all
of ]ife to live, nor all.of death to die.”
me say, first, that the soldiers "are acces
sible to this work. A great many seem to
believe that the moment'they put on the uni
form of their country they are free from all
mdral obligations, and I tell yon that I have
seen in this city of Washington more wretched
wickedness amongst our . soldiers than I ever
saw down in the lines of the army. The 'men
here will come out to hear the gospel. T have
preached night after night within four miles of
the city, to soldier audiences larger; I am safe
in saying," than I ever saw a minister of the
gospeladdressjon any special religions subject
in toy chureh in this country. The Christian
OfßHßission Have a chapel capable of holding
.a monsand men, within font miles of this city,
anp.it is better attended, far better, Ido not
hesitate than the majority of the
churches here. -And let’me also say; though
'(dq ; not,letitfstartle you when/1 tell you, that
: thh soldiers, are not, only more accessible, to the
gospel than'the yoUDg men Ore at home, but
that there are More brought to Christ, more
.been converted to God in our. armies than there
as at home! I will say even more, that human
ly speaking, there is more likelihood of your
sou’s becoming a soldier of the cross down in
the lines of the army than there .is at home.
“ How do.you make It out?” some may ask. I
answer because the prayers of the people of
the north are centering on that mighty and
majestic host; because there is no mother in
the land who does not lift rip holy hands unto
Ged, and beseech that victory may perch upon,
the banner of this nation, and that her son may
return to her homo a child"of the eternal God;
because there is not a wife or a sister in the
land but who asks that the shadow of the Al
mighty’s wings may be flung over.their loved
ones who have left them. * ,
I kppw, Mr. Chairman; that we have all suf
fered in this war, but it seems to me that those
who suffer most are the Christian fathers and
mothers of the soldiers. In conclusion, just let
me give you an instance of a mother's keen and
deep, felt anxiety about the welfare of her boy.
Over a year ago, I saw a scene in an out kos
.nitatojear my own, as I was. looking through
never forget, • On
a couch lay a young man of twenty or twenty
two years, just between time; and eternity.
Bending over his couch in an attitude of agony,
0, how intense! stood a woman.. Her pale
fa<;e has seemed te Haunt me ever since. Her
eye was fixed upon her dying boy before her.
Ever and anon she would stoop down and
her lip would quiver as she whispered over that
dull ear; and ,then she would noiselessly slip
away from his side to get him some little deli
cacy, and swiftly homing ;back; would gently
steal her arm, under his head, and minister to
him.,' Then she would lay the head softly back
again upon the pillow, and folding her hands,
would watch, watch, watch. 0, how long 1 how
anxiously !■ I entered the room. She motioned
to me. I approached and told her who I was;
tipit I was a delegate of the Christian Commis
sion. “What is it you do, sir?” i‘l came
down here as a minister of the ascended Jesus,
to speak to sinners of the Lamb of God.that
taketh away the sins of the world—to tell the
living and the dying that there is a holier, a
brighter fetter! home above.” ■ She put her
hand; in mine in a moment. “O, sir,” said she,
“ I am so glad to see von, and pointing to the
cot, she said, “Do you see that? do you see
him, sir?” “Tfes, I do,” “ Well, that is Jo
seph. O, that is my Joseph —all I have, sir—
aK that God ever gave me, sir—my comfort—
my joy. my support. And he’s dying, sir! he’s
dying !” “0, toy dear friend, it may not be so
bidl as you think, dHe may get better.”
‘Wn!” she replied, “ I wish you could comfort
m§, but the doctors who have been so kind to
mq, tell me that ho must die. ' Why, sir, a bul
let, went crashing through his lung—if you will
come I will show you, sir!” “ No, I do not
Want to see it!” After a moment she said, as
ifjto herself, “It’svhard,isn’t.it? ; You know
he’s all l’vc got. I know that we must sacri
fice for'this , war, and I know that many have
given one son and more—but they had some
body left beniud tp love thorn -but G Imy Jo
seph 1 0, sir,' he came to me and said, “ I must
go mother, my friends are going, and I cannot
stay behind,’ and he put his arms around my
neck and begged me so. ‘1 will eoine back,
•mother, 0 yes, I will, all safe, and you will be
proud of me, mother, and glad you let me go.’
.Apd I,said, .‘. well, go, Joseph, my son, and God
bless you!’ . And ever since that day, I’ve been
asking God to shield the widow’s son, sir.
But, sir, lie has done what seemed well in His
sight, and 11 la all well.” i: Arid; she paused a
Moment- I .could but witness that sacred
grief in silence. She then turned, to me with
even deeper grief, as she said—“ And that is
only half the .sacrifice!” Ah, 1 knew what
was eoming, I feared it. “O, sir, if his country
only asked bis body I could give it; yes, I
could give it, for I could take his poor cold
body home and lay him .to rest with his father,
but oh l” and with a look of unutterable wo she
said it—“ O, my God, I cannot give up his
spul—O, save his soul for Christ’s sake!”
KHen turning mote composed to me, she eon
tinued~“Jos"epii is not a Christian, sir. Won’t
you come and speak to him of Jesus ?" And
she brought me to the bedside.
I spoke to Joseph. He was conscious.
I found that he was like hundreds and thou
sands of others who had gone up from their
mother’s knees, to war, had been tossed about
by temptation, and at last had fallen into grie
vous sin. He said, “ Chaplain, 1 have been a
wicked fellow, is there any use in me hoping ?”
Then came the grand mission of the cross of
Jesu3. All! I sat in this gallery yesterday,
and in the gallery of the Senate house, and I
heard the men of the-nation standing up plead
ing for their country’s good, and I was proud
of them, and I thought, “ O that I could have
such a position’ l —when something whispered
“ tosh, thou hast a higher and holier one 1”
and I felt it; and I felt, “May God give me
Strength to fill it faithfnlly.” (Amen! amen!)
0 how glorious was my commission to that
dying man, that seeking spul 1 To tell him
that Jesus was ready to save to the uttermost—
that God had no pleasure in the death of him
thatdietb. I delivered my message. “Will
you pray for me, chaplain ?” the dying boy
asked. We knelt down, lon one side and he
stretched ont his thin hand and took one hand
of mine and one hand of his mother’s, and I
prayed for him. When I had done he let go
my hand, and took both his mother’s in one
hand and covered them with the other, and
looked up into her face as the tears streamed
down, ■ and said, “Mother, mother, dear!”
“Well Joseph, what is it ?” “0 mother, yon
know you will never take me home alive. Now
I think mother, of what you used to tell me
long ago, when I was at home. Mother this
man says that God loves us all, that Jesus is
willing to receive us all, that I need not be
cast out,, mother, that I may see you again.
Mother lam going to try to love Jesus; lam
gding to trust him!” I had never 'seen a tear
upon that mother’s face until Joseph uttered
that sentence, and then the fountains of her
soul seemed to be broken up. The tears
rolled down her cheeks as she clasped her
hands and said, “Thank God 1 Thank God !
Thank God ! Now Joseph, I can give you up.
You are dying in the cause of your country,
Joseph, : and you’re going home to Jesus.
Thank God ! Thank God !”■ And murmuring
“ Thank-God!’’ as she kissed him, she pillowed
her face upon Ins bosom heaving in death.
Now my friends, we owe V man in this
Christian country two things, We owe' our
brave soldiers two’things. , We owe them food
for the body and sympathy for the heart and
food for the soul. We owe them the message
of Christ and him crucified, that they may be
led to live godly and sober live 3 to the honor
and glory of God. To my mind, Mr. President,
this war hath been conducted;by,the Great
Jehovah., He hath unsheathed the sword of
his might, and he hath been stripping off from
us our hideous sins that have made us deformed
and hateful in his sight, and he hath stood ns
upon the platform of, the great truth of equal
liberty to all his creatures ! 4Long and loud
cheers and applause.) In ray mind he is crying
out from the Mil-tops, and the mighty voice is
resounding from one hill-top to the other,
“Ye are my people, and they who follow in my
paths, and care for my words, and shall never
be destroyed, for the Word of the Lord hath
declared’it!’’
O, Mr. President, Ifeel to night that I thank
you for this privilege, I feel thankful if a poor
son of Scotland, who rejoices now in being a
son of America, has been permitted in any
way to staunch the flowing wounds, and to do
all that he could for the country that has made
him what he is ! May God bless America !
[Amen! amen ! with loud applause, resoun
ded through the Hall.]
The chair now introduced as the next
speaker the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, Speaker of
the House of Representatives, who delivered
the following address:
Hon. Schuyler Colfax’s Address.
Mr. Speaker) Ladies and Gentlemen :—I
shall speak to you but briefly at this late
hour; for when I consented to participate
in the addresses of this evening, I informed
the Chairman of the Commission in whose
behalf I am to speak, that multiplied duties
would prevent me from making any very
extended remarks ; and I know right well
as you do, that any remarks falling from
my lips would seem tame after the able and
the eloquent and the more than eloquent—
the touching—addresses to which you have
just listened. •
Truly, sir, these men have come .before us
to-night decorated with thepraise of Him who
spake as never man spake,,when he declared
that tbey who ministered to the suffering,
who gave only a cup of cold water to the
thirsty, to even the-humblest of His chil
dren, should in the, last great day be re
warded as though they had dona it unto
Him; and when I stand in their presence,
and in the presence of those who laid the
foundation stones on which this magnificent
edifice of Christianity, humanity, and Be
neficence has bep-i reared, I feel as if I.
should bare my h i:td in reverence and re
spect. For if tbe-e ever was a-jiuinan insti
tution inspired by Him who holds the desti
nies of nations in the hollow of His hand, it
has been the Christian Commission whose
anniversary we oOmmemorate to-night.
In my boyhood days; I used to read the
allegoriesof that false prophet Mohammed,
with delight. I think that some of them
are worthy even of the theology of this
century, In the summing up of one of his
oriental’ epilogues he declares “ that a man’s
true wealth consists not in lands, hot in
possessions, but in the good that he does in
this world to his fellow man ;” and he con
tinues, “ when a man dies, the people will
wonder (how perfect the analogy in # this
afternoon of the nineteenth, century!)—the
people will wonder what property he has left
behind him, blit the angels, a* they bend
over his grave, will inquire, what good deeds
hast thou sent before thee?” And, sir,
when I think of the record that is to be
written of this era of battle; and strife for
the Republic, I can see written high up on
the roll of fame the names of men that
will live as long as time shall last. The
names of these great military and naval
officers upon whom have been reflected the
glory of the gallant soldiers and sailors they
have led in, this-war, for the Union, and the
name of our Chief Magistrate, who, by di
ring to take the responsibility at the fall of
Sumter, enable* us now to feel that we have
a Capital, a home for. the -Congress.of this
Republic, (great applause) will be written
there side by side. But, sir, along Bide of
them shall also be written in glowing letters,
as if in living fight, the name of him who,
turning his back upon large business opera
tions in the city of Philadelphia, has devo
ted himself, as the Chairman of this Com
mission, to days and nights of sleepless
labor for the soldiers of our Republic. (Ap
plause.) And when I saw this .man tearing
himself away from the bedside of a dying
son; dear to hint as his own heart's blood,
to go and speak to the people "of New Jer
sey in behalf of the suffering soldiers upon
the stricken battle-fields of the land, the
name of George H. Stuart was enshrined
in my heart, as it will be in ths hearts of
loyal men in our Republic so long as these
hearts shall continue to throb.
For the first time in the history of the
race, the armies of a Nation as they hare
gone forth to battle against their enemies,
have had angels of mercy upon either side
of them. On the one side this Christian
Commission—on the other its twin sister,
the Sanitary ; Commission of the Union.
How much misery they Hare assuaged, how
much sorrow they have soothed, how much
suffering they have ameliorated, no one ex
cepting the recording angel abova will ever
be able to tell- I thank God that He put it
into the hearts of the men upon this plat
form, and their associates throughput the
land, to organize this Christian, this benefi
cent, this humane institution. It is indeed
a conception springing from the divine
throne, hallowed by a patriotism that hu
manity; adorns, and that God will bless. It is
an electric chain that binds the soldier and
people. together, with its million wires
stretching from a million grateful hearth
stones on the one side, to a million gallant
hearts in the camp and in the field upon
the other. (Applause.)
So, too, its labors have been effective in
diminishing the ravages of war. By their
humane and wise efforts they have saved
many lives. They have -thus acted as re
cruiting officers for our armies, not recruit
iog volunteers fresh from domestic pursuits,
but recruiting veterans for still further
brave and gallant service in their country’s
cause. It has been computed, and I doubt
not correctly, that one thousand lives were
saved through the labors of the Christian
Commission, after the battle of Gettysburg,
alone. How much happiness this single
fact has borne to mourning hearth-stones
and sorrowing homes throughout the land!
Instead of following the soldier with muffled
drum to the soldier’s grave, they have
snatched him from under the very guns of
the enemy, have dressed his wounds, and
by gentle nursing have restored him to life
and action, again to take his place amongst
the legions of the Republic.
I have been struck with the statistics of '
this war, alluded to casually by a gentleman
who preceded m“e, in the contrast with other •
wars that have desolated other lauds. ' In
the Peninsular War, famous in history, the
annual loss was computed to be 165 out of ’
every 1,000 soldiers in the field. Coming:
down to the Crimean War, when the allied
forces beseiged thestronghold of Sebastopol,
In July, August and September their annual-,
toss was at the rate of 293 to 1,000. This
mortality startled the British public; and’
yet daring the next three months, it went
on with a fearfully accelerating ratio. They •
had no Christian, Commission there, sir, anct.
their men sickened and died by thousands.
The next three months afterwards their loss
was at the annual rate of 511 out of 1,000,
and even then it had not reached the maxi
mum of its fearfully rapid strides, During
the next three months, the contagion had.
spread over all the camps, until almost
every camp was a camp of disease and
death ; and in the next, the loss was at the
terrible rate of 912 out of every 1,000 men.
In fourteen months this rate of death would
have swept the entire army from existence.
Then it was that the British people sent
forth their legions of nurses to organize in
the hospitals of Scutari some way of relief,
and that noblewoman at- the mention of
whose name the heart of every true lover
of humanity from the rivers to the ends of
the earth overflow in reverential admiration
—I mean Florence Nightingale—[applause)
went there to nurse her poor dying country
men. I shall astonish you, doubtless, when
I tell you, in. contrast with this fearful pic
ture, that the loss in our armies in the last
year has been but 53 out of every 1,000 sol
diers in the field. (Applause.) The per
centage is not so much larger, as you would
suppose, than the percentage of death in
your own residences at home.
1 need not say to you.that this is attribu
table to two causes: in the first place to the
endeayor of our Government to afford every
possible relief, and in the second place to
the ud paid, God-rewarded labors of men like
these who have been brought before you to
night. (Applause). And are not the heroes
of our country worthy of all this? Aye, of
more,, sir.! The*are worthy of j.t all, and
of much more. You might pour out your
treasures like water at, their feet, and you
could not repay them for the sacrifices they
have voluntarily made for this imperilled
country. There they stand ! men who have
; left homes as happy to them as yours are
happy to you to-night—happy in the de
lights'of affection and love; who have left
wives dear to them as the apple of their
eyes, and children whom God has given
them as the pledges of their affection. And
there they stand in the embattled hosts,
like the old Roman soldier, who before he
went into battle took the sacramentum, the
great ciatb of the soldier, that he would
know nothing but war till the enemies of
his country were overthrown. And so onr
brave soldiers have taken the oath, in their
hearts if riot on;their lips. ( Applause). Re
gardless of life they,have dashed right, on,
stormed frowning entrenchments, leaped
over walls, wrested batteries from the grasp
of the foe, and planted the symbol of their
triumph in the enemy’s works—all with
an enthusiam that, even the veterans of Na
poleon never surpassed, and with a patriot
ism that .has robbed death of its terrors.
Mow much, indeed, do we owe to ikehi! God
bless the American Soldier! (Applause).
“From such as these the word is heard
That saves the freedom.of tho laud;
That lifts for human rights the sword
That fell from Hampden’s dying hand I”
The sacred record shows that not only in
modern history, but in divine history, as
well, are to be, found the glowing eulogies
of patriotism. We have there on record the
example of the Prophetess Deborah, that
remarkable woman, who in her rejoicing
song before the children of Israel, poured
out her praises upon those she de
clares so strikingly “ had willingly offered
themselves”—the brave men who had gone
forth to fight for their country; and I have
not found in that sacred record that she was
regarded as unsexing herself for thus eulo
gizing the patriotism of her fellow citizens.
(Applause.)' And on the other hand, the
sacred historian has condemned to eternal
dishonor, as long as that sacred Word shall
be read, which will be until this earth upon
•which we stand, yields in the wreck of mat
ter, and the crash of worlds, —has dedicated,
I say, to eternal dishonor that unpatriotic
Shimei, who when David and his army went
forth to put down his son’s unnatural rebel
lion, stood ,by the wayside cursing them for
participating in a bloody and inhuman war!
(Applause.) I repeat it, sir, the whole di
vine record is full of the most glowing eulo
gies on patriotism and love of the land of
Which we are' citizens. From the orient to
the Occident the praises of a country's de
fenders shall be sung, and the page of his
tory which commemorates their deeds shall
shine brighter, in the eye of posterity as it
reads there for the honored living and for the
more honored dead, a record of valor and of
fame, which even the tooth of'time can
never, no, never destroy! They strike for
the nation; and I rejoice that as they fall
they have the consolation of knowing
that their arms- shall be upheld,; and
they themselves shall be helped, and
saved by the agencies that the willing con
tributions of the people have sent otHfto
them, like this great Commission, in the
hour of their extremity and trial. They
strike for the nation; and they feel as well
as you that its value can no more be com
puted than the value of a father’s blessing,
or a mother’s love. They strike for the
Government, which was felt before this war
only in jts blessings upon all, free as the air
we breathe, that gave us life and health and
strength almost Without our realizing its
constant supply. They bared* their breasts
to the enemy, nay, more than this, they
interposed their between their
country and the eaerurcii'who were seeking
to destroy it? existence, and. as they went
forth they went with a pledge that , they
were willing if needs be, tc lay, down their
own lives for the salvation of the life of the
land.
And now I have a word to say to you
practically about your duties. I have spoken
of the labors of the soldier. In the grave
responsibilities devolved upon us at an era
like this, tHerei are duties devolving upon
you—l mean every one of you who sit before
me to-night,—which you cannot either deny
or evade. The glittering stars gem the fir
mament to-night. They shine above us
though the sun rides high in the heavens,
though the clouds darken the glory of the
day-god as he speeds across the heavens in
his chariot of living light. Though they
(Continued on page 56.)