THE RECORD OF AQUAKER CONSCIENCE [Illustration: Macmillan Logo] THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLASATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO. , Limited LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTAMELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO THE RECORD OF AQUAKER CONSCIENCE CYRUS PRINGLE'S DIARY WITH AN INTRODUCTION BYRUFUS M. JONES New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1918 _All rights reserved_ Copyright, 1913BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY Copyright, 1918By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and printed. Published, February, 1918 [Transcriber's Note: Several unusual spellings have been kept as in the original, including:northermost ("Fairhope meeting-house is in the northermost country") andcomformable ("yet probably in a manner comformable to"). In some cases, variant spellings of the same word are used, as in thecase of "enrolment" and "enrollment", "therefor" and "therefore", "wellmeant" and "well-meant". These have been comfirmed with the original. In referring to God, there is also inconsistency in the use of "His"versus "his" and "Him" versus "him". ] INTRODUCTION The body of this little book consists of the personal diary of a youngQuaker named Cyrus Guernsey Pringle of Charlotte, Vermont. He wasdrafted for service in the Union Army, July 13th, 1863. Under theexisting draft law a person who had religious scruples against engagingin war was given the privilege of paying a commutation fine of threehundred dollars. This commutation money Pringle's conscience would notallow him to pay. A prosperous uncle proposed to pay it surreptitiouslyfor him, but the honest-minded youth discovered the plan and refused toaccept the well meant kindness, since he believed, no doubt rightly, that this money would be used to pay for an army substitute in hisplace. The Diary relates in simple, naïve style the experiences whichbefell the narrator as he followed his hard path of duty, andincidentally it reveals a fine and sensitive type of character, notunlike that which comes so beautifully to light in the Journal of JohnWoolman. This is plainly not the psychological moment to study the highly complexand delicate problem of conscience. The strain and tension of worldissues disturb our judgment. We cannot if we would turn away from theevents and movements that affect the destiny of nations to dwell calmlyand securely upon our own inner, private actions. It is never easy, evenwhen the world is most normal and peaceful, to mark off with sharp linesthe area of individual freedom. No person ever lives unto himself or issufficient to himself. He is inextricably woven into the tissue of thesocial group. His privileges, his responsibilities, his obligations areforever over-individual and come from beyond his narrow isolated life. If he is to be a rational being at all he must _relate_ his life toothers and share in some measure their triumphs and their tragedies. But at the same time the most precious thing in the universe is thatmysterious thing we call individual liberty and which even God himselfguards and respects. Up to some point, difficult certainly to delimit, aman must be captain of his soul. He cannot be a _person_ if he does nothave a sphere of power over his own act. To treat him as a puppet ofexternal forces, or a mere cog in a vast social mechanism, is to wipeout the unique distinction between person and thing. Somewhere the freespirit must take its stand and claim its God-given distinction. If lifeis to be at all worth while there must be some boundary within which thesoul holds its own august and ultimate tribunal. That Sanctuary domainwithin the soul the Quakers, ever since their origin in the period ofthe English Commonwealth, have always guarded as the most sacredpossession a man can have. No grave difficulty, at least in the modern world, is involved in thisfaith, until it suddenly comes into conflict with the urgentrequirements of social efficiency. When the social group is fused withemotion and moves almost as an undivided unit toward some end, then theclaim of a right, on the ground of conscience, for the individual todeviate from the group and to pursue another or an opposite courseappears serious if not positively insufferable. The abstract principleof individual liberty all modern persons grant; the strain comes whensome one proposes to insist upon a concrete instance of it whichinvolves implications that may endanger the ends which the intensifiedgroup is pursuing. A situation of this type confronts the Quakerswhenever their country engages in war, since as a people they feel thatthey cannot fight or take any part in military operations. They do not find it an easy thing to give a completely rational groundfor their opposition to war. Nor, as a matter of fact, is it any moreeasy for the militarist to rationalize his method of solving worlddifficulties. Both are evidently actuated by instinctive forces whichlie far beneath the level of pure reason. The roots of the Quakers' opposition to war go deep down into the soilof the past. They are the outgrowth and culmination of a long spiritualmovement. They carry along, in their ideas, emotions, habits andattitudes, tendencies which have been unconsciously sucked in with theirmother's milk, and which, therefore, cannot be held up and analysed. The mystics, the humanists, the anabaptists, the spiritual reformers, are forerunners of the Quaker. They are a necessary part of hispedigree, --and they were all profoundly opposed to war. This attitudehas become an integral part of the vital stock of truth by which theQuaker lives his spiritual life, and to violate it is for him to stopliving "the way of truth, " as the early Quakers quaintly called theirreligious faith. But the Quakers have never been champions of the negative. They do nottake kindly to the rôle of being "antis. " Their negations grow out oftheir insistent affirmations. If they are _against_ an establishedinstitution or custom it is because they are _for_ some other way oflife which seems to them divinely right, and their first obligation isto incarnate that way of life. They cannot, therefore, stand apart inmonastic seclusion and safely watch the swirl of forces which theysilently disapprove. If in war-time they do not fight, they _do_something else. They accept and face the dangers incident to their wayof life. They feel a compulsion to take up and in some measure to bearthe burden of the world's suffering. They endeavour to exhibit, humblyand modestly, the power of sacrificial love, freely, joyously given, andthey venture all that the brave can venture to carry their faith intolife and action. In the American civil war, in the Franco-Prussian, theSouth African, the Balkan, the Russo-Japanese, small bands of Quakersrevealed the same spirit of service and the same obliviousness to dangerwhich have marked the larger groups that have manned the ambulance unitsand the war-victims' relief and reconstruction work of this world war. In this present crisis they have gone wherever they could go, --toBelgium, to France, to Russia, to Italy, to Serbia and Greece and Syriaand Mesopotamia, --to carry into operation the forces of restoration andof reconstruction. They have not stood aloof as spectators of theworld's tragedy. They have entered into it and shared it, and they havecounted neither money nor life dear to themselves in their desire toreveal the power of redeeming and transforming love. Slowly the sincerity of the Quaker conviction about war has made itselffelt and limited legislative provisions have been made, especially inEngland and America, to meet the claims of conscience. The problem whichconfronts the law-maker, even when he is sympathetic with the rights ofconviction, is the grave difficulty of determining where to draw theline of special exception to general requirements and how to discoverthe sincerity of conscientious objection to war. The "slacker" isalways a stern possibility. There must be no holes in the net for him toescape through. The makers of armies naturally want every man who can bespared from civilian life and can be utilized for military operations. It has consequently often seemed necessary for law-makers to be narrowand hard toward the obviously sincere for fear of being too easy andlenient with those suspected of having sham consciences. During the Civil War in America, President Lincoln, eager as he was towin the war, was always deeply in sympathy with the Quakers, and hestretched his administrative powers to their full limit to providerelief for conscientious convictions. In the early stages of the greatconflict the President wrote the following kindly note in answer to amessage from New England Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends:"Engaged as I am, in a great war, I fear it will be difficult for theworld to understand how fully I appreciate the principles of peaceinculcated in this letter [of yours] and every where by the Society ofFriends. "[1] Both he and Secretary Stanton made many positive efforts tofind some way of providing for the tender consciences of Friends withoutbeing unfair to the rights of others. They even requested AmericanFriends to call a conference to consider how to find a satisfactorysolution of the problem. Such a conference was held in Baltimore, December 7th, 1863, and the Friends there assembled expressed greatappreciation of "the kindness evinced at all times by the President andSecretary of War. " A delegation from this conference visited Washingtonand, in co-operation with Secretary Stanton, succeeded in securing aclause in the enrolment bill, declaring Friends to be non-combatants, assigning all drafted Friends to hospital service or work amongfreedmen, and further providing for the entire exemption of Friends frommilitary service on the payment of $300 into a fund for the relief ofsick and wounded. [2] On several occasions Friends in larger or smaller groups went toWashington for times of prayer and spiritual communion with the greatPresident. These times were deeply appreciated by the heavily burdenedman. Tears ran down his cheeks, we are told, as he sat bowed in solemnsilence or knelt as some moved Friend prayed for him to Almighty God. Writing of the visit of Isaac and Sarah Harvey of Clinton County, Ohio, in the autumn of 1862, Lincoln tenderly said: "May the Lord comfort themas they have sustained me. " A letter written by the President in 1862 toEliza P. Gurney, one of a small group of Friends who visited him andprayed with him in the autumn of that year, reveals forcibly how heregarded these occasions: "I am glad of this interview, and glad to know that I have your sympathy and prayers. We are indeed going through a great trial--a fiery trial. In the very responsible position in which I happen to be placed, being a humble instrument in the hands of our Heavenly Father, as I am, and as we all are, to work out his great purposes, I have desired that all my works and acts may be according to his will, and that it might be so, I have sought his aid; but if, after endeavouring to do my best in the light which he affords me, I find my efforts fail, I must believe that for some purpose unknown to me, his will is otherwise. If I had had my way, this war would never have been commenced. If I had been allowed my way, this war would have been ended before this; but we find it still continues, and we must believe that he permits it for some wise purpose of his own, mysterious and unknown to us; and though with our limited understandings we may not be able to comprehend it, yet we cannot but believe that he who made the world still governs it. " Somewhat later President Lincoln wrote again to Eliza P. Gurneyrequesting her to exercise her freedom to write to him as he felt theneed of spiritual help and reinforcement. Her letter of reply so closelytouched him and spoke to his condition that he carried it about with himand it was found in his coat pocket at the time of his death, twentymonths after it was written. In the autumn of 1864, President Lincoln, still impressed by the message which he had received, wrote a memorableletter to Eliza P. Gurney. It was as follows: "I have not forgotten--probably never shall forget--the very impressive occasion when yourself and friends visited me on a Sabbath forenoon two years ago. Nor has your kind letter, written nearly a year later, ever been forgotten. In all it has been your purpose to strengthen my reliance on God. I am much indebted to the good Christian people of the country for their constant prayers and consolations; and to no one of them more than to yourself. The purposes of the Almighty are perfect, and must prevail, though we erring mortals may fail to accurately perceive them in advance. We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war long before this; but God knows best, and has ruled otherwise. We shall yet acknowledge his wisdom, and our own error therein. Meanwhile we must work earnestly in the best lights he gives us, trusting that so working still conduces to the great ends he ordains. Surely he intends some great good to follow this mighty convulsion, which no mortal could make, and no mortal could stay. Your people, the Friends, have had, and are having, a very great trial. On principle and faith opposed to both war and oppression, they can only practically oppose oppression by war. In this dilemma some have chosen one horn and some the other. For those appealing to me on conscientious grounds, I have done, and shall do, the best I could and can, in my own conscience, under my oath to the law. That you believe this I doubt not; and, believing it, I shall still receive for our country and myself your earnest prayers to our Father in heaven. " It is, then, not surprising that President Lincoln was "moved withsympathy" when he heard the story of Pringle's suffering for conscience, or that he quietly said to the Secretary of War, "It is my urgent wishthat this Friend be released. " RUFUS M. JONES. Haverford, Pa. , December, 1917. FOOTNOTES: [1] Nicolay and Hay: "Abraham Lincoln, " Vol. VI, p. 328. [2] Secretary Stanton endeavoured to provide that this commutation moneyshould be made into a fund for the care of freedmen. This suggestionwas, however, not adopted by Congress. THE RECORD OF A QUAKER CONSCIENCE At Burlington, Vt. , on the 13th of the seventh month, 1863, I wasdrafted. Pleasant are my recollections of the 14th. Much of that rainyday I spent in my chamber, as yet unaware of my fate; in writing andreading and in reflecting to compose my mind for any event. The day andthe exercise, by the blessing of the Father, brought me preciousreconciliation to the will of Providence. With ardent zeal for our Faith and the cause of our peaceableprinciples; and almost disgusted at the lukewarmness and unfaithfulnessof very many who profess these; and considering how heavily slightcrosses bore upon their shoulders, I felt to say, "Here am I, Father, for thy service. As thou will. " May I trust it was He who called me andsent me forth with the consolation: "My grace is sufficient for thee. "Deeply have I felt many times since that I am nothing without thecompanionship of the Spirit. I was to report on the 27th. Then, loyal to our country, Wm. LindleyDean and I appeared before the Provost Marshal with a statement of ourcases. We were ordered for a hearing on the 29th. On the afternoon ofthat day W. L. D. Was rejected upon examination of the Surgeon, but mycase not coming up, he remained with me, --much to my strength andcomfort. Sweet was his converse and long to be remembered, as we laytogether that warm summer night on the straw of the barracks. By hisencouragement much was my mind strengthened; my desires for a pure life, and my resolutions for good. In him and those of whom he spoke I sawthe abstract beauty of Quakerism. On the next morning came Joshua M. Dean to support me and plead my case before the Board of Enrollment. Onthe day after, the 31st, I came before the Board. Respectfully those menlistened to the exposition of our principles; and, on our representingthat we looked for some relief from the President, the marshal releasedme for twenty days. Meanwhile appeared Lindley M. Macomber and waslikewise, by the kindness of the marshal, though they had receivedinstructions from the Provost Marshal General to show such claims nopartiality, released to appear on the 20th day of the eighth month. All these days we were urged by our acquaintances to pay our commutationmoney; by some through well-meant kindness and sympathy; by othersthrough interest in the war; and by others still through a belief theyentertained it was our duty. But we confess a higher duty than that tocountry; and, asking no military protection of our Government andgrateful for none, deny any obligation to support so unlawful a system, as we hold a war to be even when waged in opposition to an evil andoppressive power and ostensibly in defence of liberty, virtue, and freeinstitutions; and, though touched by the kind interest of friends, wecould not relieve their distress by a means we held even more sinfulthan that of serving ourselves, as by supplying money to hire asubstitute we would not only be responsible for the result, but be theagents in bringing others into evil. So looking to our Father alone forhelp, and remembering that "Whoso loseth his life for my sake shall findit; but whoso saveth it shall lose it, " we presented ourselves againbefore the Board, as we had promised to do when released. Being offeredfour days more of time, we accepted it as affording opportunity tovisit our friends; and moreover as there would be more probability ofmeeting Peter Dakin at Rutland. Sweet was the comfort and sympathy of our friends as we visited them. There was a deep comfort, as we left them, in the thought that so manypure and pious people follow us with their love and prayers. Appearingfinally before the marshal on the 24th, suits and uniforms were selectedfor us, and we were called upon to give receipts for them. L. M. M. Was onhis guard, and, being first called upon, declared he could not do so, asthat would imply acceptance. Failing to come to any agreement, thematter was postponed till next morning, when we certified to the factthat the articles were "with us. " Here I must make record of thekindness of the marshal, Rolla Gleason, who treated us with respect andkindness. He had spoken with respect of our Society; had given mefurloughs to the amount of twenty-four days, when the marshal at Rutlandconsidered himself restricted by his oath and duty to six days; and hereappeared in person to prevent any harsh treatment of us by hissergeants; and though much against his inclinations, assisted in puttingon the uniform with his own hands. We bade him farewell with gratefulfeelings and expressions of fear that we should not fall into as tenderhands again; and amid the rain in the early morning, as the town clocktolled the hour of seven, we were driven amongst the flock that wasgoing forth to the slaughter, down the street and into the cars forBrattleboro. Dark was the day with murk and cloud and rain; and, as werolled down through the narrow vales of eastern Vermont, somewhat of theshadow crept into our hearts and filled them with dark apprehensions ofevil fortune ahead; of long, hopeless trials; of abuse from inferiorofficers; of contempt from common soldiers; of patient endurance (or anattempt at this), unto an end seen only by the eye of a strong faith. Herded into a car by ourselves, we conscripts, substitutes, and therest, through the greater part of the day, swept over the fertilemeadows along the banks of the White River and the Connecticut, throughpleasant scenes that had little of delight for us. At Woodstock we werejoined by the conscripts from the 1st District, --altogether an inferiorcompany from those before with us, who were honest yeomen from thenorthern and mountainous towns, while these were many of themsubstitutes from the cities. At Brattleboro we were marched up to the camp; our knapsacks and personssearched; and any articles of citizen's dress taken from us; and thenshut up in a rough board building under a guard. Here the prospect wasdreary, and I felt some lack of confidence in our Father's arm, thoughbut two days before I wrote to my dear friend, E. M. H. , -- I go tomorrow where the din Of war is in the sulphurous air. I go the Prince of Peace to serve, His cross of suffering to bear. Brattleboro, _26th_, _8th_ month, 1863. --Twenty-five or thirty cagedlions roam lazily to and fro through this building hour after hourthrough the day. On every side without, sentries pace their slow beat, bearing loaded muskets. Men are ranging through the grounds or hangingin synods about the doors of the different buildings, apparently withouta purpose. Aimless is military life, except betimes its aim is deadly. Idle life blends with violent death-struggles till the man is unmade aman; and henceforth there is little of manhood about him. Of a man he ismade a soldier, which is a man-destroying machine in two senses, --athing for the prosecuting or repelling an invasion like the block ofstone in the fortress or the plate of iron on the side of the Monitor. They are alike. I have tried in vain to define a difference, and I seeonly this. The iron-clad with its gun is the bigger soldier: the moreformidable in attack, the less liable to destruction in a given time;the block the most capable of resistance; both are equally obedient toofficers. Or the more perfect is the soldier, the more nearly heapproaches these in this respect. Three times a day we are marched out to the mess houses for our rations. In our hands we carry a tin plate, whereon we bring back a piece ofbread (sour and tough most likely), and a cup. Morning and noon a pieceof meat, antique betimes, bears company with the bread. They who wish itreceive in their cups two sorts of decoctions: in the morning burntbread, or peas perhaps, steeped in water with some saccharine substanceadded (I dare not affirm it to be sugar). At night steeped tea extendedby some other herbs probably and its pungency and acridity assuaged bythe saccharine principle aforementioned. On this we have so farsubsisted and, save some nauseating, comfortably. As we go out andreturn, on right and left and in front and rear go bayonets. Somesubstitutes heretofore have escaped and we are not to be neglected inour attendants. Hard beds are healthy, but I query cannot the result bedefeated by the _degree_? Our mattresses are boards. Only the slightelasticity of our thin blankets breaks the fall of our flesh and bonesthereon. Oh! now I praise the discipline I have received from uncarpetedfloors through warm summer nights of my boyhood. The building resounds with petty talk; jokes and laughter and swearing. Something more than that. Many of the caged lions are engaged withcards, and money changes hands freely. Some of the caged lions read, andsome sleep, and so the weary day goes by. L. M. M. And I addressed the following letter to Governor Holbrook andhired a corporal to forward it to him. BRATTLEBORO, VT. , _26th_, _8th_ month, 1863. FREDERICK HOLBROOK, Governor of Vermont:-- We, the undersigned members of the Society of Friends, beg leave torepresent to thee, that we were lately drafted in the 3d Dist. OfVermont, have been forced into the army and reached the camp near thistown yesterday. That in the language of the elders of our New York Yearly Meeting, "Welove our country and acknowledge with gratitude to our Heavenly Fatherthe many blessings we have been favoured with under the government; andcan feel no sympathy with any who seek its overthrow. " But that, true to well-known principles of our Society, we cannotviolate our religious convictions either by complying with militaryrequisitions or by the equivalents of this compliance, --the furnishingof a substitute or payment of commutation money. That, therefore, we arebrought into suffering and exposed to insult and contempt from those whohave us in charge, as well as to the penalties of insubordination, though liberty of conscience is granted us by the Constitution ofVermont as well as that of the United States. Therefore, we beg of thee as Governor of our State any assistance thoumay be able to render, should it be no more than the influence of thyposition interceding in our behalf. Truly Thy Friend, CYRUS G. PRINGLE. P. S. --We are informed we are to be sent to the vicinity of Bostontomorrow. _27th. _--On board train to Boston. The long afternoon of yesterdaypassed slowly away. This morning passed by, --the time of our stay inBrattleboro, and we neither saw nor heard anything of our Governor. Wesuppose he could not or would not help us. So as we go down to our trialwe have no arm to lean upon among all men; but why dost thou complain, oh, my Soul? Seek thou that faith that will prove a buckler to thybreast, and gain for thee the protection of an arm mightier than thearms of all men. _28th. _ CAMP VERMONT: LONG ISLAND, BOSTON HARBOUR. --In the early morningdamp and cool we marched down off the heights of Brattleboro to taketrain for this place. Once in the car the dashing young cavalry officer, who had us in charge, gave notice he had placed men through the cars, with loaded revolvers, who had orders to shoot any person attempting toescape, or jump from the window, and that any one would be shot if heeven put his head out of the window. Down the beautiful valley of theConnecticut, all through its broad intervales, heavy with its crops ofcorn or tobacco, or shaven smooth by the summer harvest; over the hardand stony counties of northern Massachusetts, through its suburbs andunder the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument we came into the City ofBoston, "the Hub of the Universe. " Out through street after street wewere marched double guarded to the wharves, where we took a smallsteamer for the island some six miles out in the harbour. A circumstanceconnected with this march is worth mentioning for its singularity: atthe head of this company, like convicts (and feeling very much likesuch), through the City of Boston walked, with heavy hearts anddown-cast eyes, two Quakers. Here on this dry and pleasant island in the midst of the beautifulMassachusetts Bay, we have the liberty of the camp, the privilege of airand sunshine and hay beds to sleep upon. So we went to bed last nightwith somewhat of gladness elevating our depressed spirits. Here are many troops gathering daily from all the New England Statesexcept Connecticut and Rhode Island. Their white tents are dotting thegreen slopes and hilltops of the island and spreading wider and wider. This is the flow of military tide here just now. The ebb went out to seain the shape of a great shipload just as we came in, and another loadwill be sent before many days. All is war here. We are surrounded by thepomp and circumstance of war, and enveloped in the cloud thereof. Thecloud settles down over the minds and souls of all; they cannot seebeyond, nor do they try; but with the clearer eye of Christian faith Itry to look beyond all this error unto Truth and Holiness immaculate:and thanks to our Father, I am favoured with glimpses that are sweetconsolation amid this darkness. This is one gratification: the men with us give us their sympathy. Theyseem to look upon us tenderly and pitifully, and their expressions ofkind wishes are warm. Although we are relieved from duty and from drill, and may lie in our tents during rain and at night, we have heard of nocomplaint. This is the more worthy of note as there are so few in ourlittle (Vermont) camp. Each man comes on guard half the days. It wouldprobably be otherwise were their hearts in the service; but I have yetto find the man in any of these camps or at any service who does notwish himself at home. Substitutes say if they knew all they know nowbefore leaving home they would not have enlisted; and they have been buta week from their homes and have endured no hardships. Yesterday L. M. M. And I appeared before the Captain commanding this camp with a statementof our cases. He listened to us respectfully and promised to refer us tothe General commanding here, General Devens; and in the meantimereleased us from duty. In a short time afterward he passed us in ourtent, asking our names. We have not heard from him, but do not drill orstand guard; so, we suppose, his release was confirmed. At thatinterview a young lieutenant sneeringly told us he thought we had betterthrow away our scruples and fight in the service of the country; and aswe told the Captain we could not accept pay, he laughed mockingly, andsaid he would not stay here for $13. 00 per month. He gets more than ahundred, I suppose. How beautiful seems the world on this glorious morning here by theseaside! Eastward and toward the sun, fair green isles with outlines ofpure beauty are scattered over the blue bay. Along the far line of themainland white hamlets and towns glisten in the morning sun; countlesstiny waves dance in the wind that comes off shore and sparkle sunwardlike myriads of gems. Up the fair vault, flecked by scarcely a cloud, rolls the sun in glory. Though fair be the earth, it has come to betainted and marred by him who was meant to be its crowning glory. Behindme on this island are crowded vile and wicked men, the murmur of whoseribaldry riseth continually like the smoke and fumes of a lower world. Oh! Father of Mercies, forgive the hard heartlessness and blindness andscarlet sins of my fellows, my brothers. PRISON EXPERIENCES FOR CONSCIENCE' SAKE--OUR PRISON _31st. _, _8th_ month, 1863. IN GUARD HOUSE. --Yesterday morning L. M. M. And I were called upon to do fatigue duty. The day before we were askedto do some cleaning about camp and to bring water. We wished to beobliging, to appear willing to bear a hand toward that which wouldpromote our own and our fellows' health and convenience; but as weworked we did not feel easy. Suspecting we had been assigned to suchwork, the more we discussed in our minds the subject, the more clearlythe right way seemed opened to us; and we separately came to thejudgment that we must not conform to this requirement. So when thesergeant bade us "Police the streets, " we asked him if he had receivedinstructions with regard to us, and he replied we had been assigned to"Fatigue Duty. " L. M. M. Answered him that we could not obey. He left usimmediately for the Major (Jarvis of Weathersfield, Vt. ). He came backand ordered us to the Major's tent. The latter met us outside andinquired concerning the complaint he had heard of us. Upon our statementof our position, he apparently undertook to argue our whimsies, as heprobably looked upon our principles, out of our heads. We replied to hispoints as we had ability; but he soon turned to bullying us rather thanarguing with us, and would hardly let us proceed with a whole sentence. "I make some pretension to religion myself, " he said; and quoted the OldTestament freely in support of war. Our terms were, submission or theguard-house. We replied we could not obey. This island was formerly occupied by a company, who carried on the largefarm it comprises and opened a great hotel as a summer resort. The subjects of all misdemeanours, grave and small, are here confined. Those who have deserted or attempted it; those who have insultedofficers and those guilty of theft, fighting, drunkenness, etc. In_most_, as in the camps, there are traces yet of manhood and of theDivine Spark, but some are abandoned, dissolute. There are many hereamong the substitutes who were actors in the late New York riots. Theyshow unmistakably the characteristics and sentiments of those rioters, and, especially, hatred to the blacks drafted and about camp, andexhibit this in foul and profane jeers heaped upon these unoffending menat every opportunity. In justice to the blacks I must say they aresuperior to the whites in all their behaviour. _31st. _ P. M. --Several of us were a little time ago called out one by oneto answer inquiries with regard to our offences. We replied we could notcomply with military requisitions. P. D. , being last, was asked if hewould die first, and replied promptly but mildly, _Yes_. Here we are in prison in our own land for no crimes, no offence to Godnor man; nay, more: we are here for obeying the commands of the Son ofGod and the influences of his Holy Spirit. I must look for patience inthis dark day. I am troubled too much and excited and perplexed. _1st. _, _9th_ month. --Oh, the horrors of the past night--I never beforeexperienced such _sensations_ and fears; and never did I feel so clearlythat I had nothing but the hand of our Father to shield me from evil. Last night we three lay down together on the floor of a lower room ofwhich we had taken possession. The others were above. We had but oneblanket between us and the floor, and one over us. The other one we hadlent to a wretched deserter who had skulked into our room for _relief_, being without anything of his own. We had during the day gained therespect of the fellows, and they seemed disposed to let us occupy ourroom in peace. I cannot say in quiet, for these caged beasts arerestless, and the resonant boards of this old building speak of bedlam. The thin board partitions, the light door fastened only by a pine stickthrust into a wooden loop on the casing, seemed small protection in caseof assault; but we lay down to sleep in quiet trust. But we had scarcelyfallen asleep before we were awakened by the demoniac howlings andyellings of a man just brought into the next room, and allowed theliberty of the whole house. He was drunk, and further seemed to belabouring under delirium tremens. He crashed about furiously, and allthe more after the guard tramped heavily in and bound him withhandcuffs, and chain and ball. Again and again they left, only to returnto quiet him by threats or by crushing him down to the floor and gagginghim. In a couple of hours he became quiet and we got considerable sleep. In the morning the fellow came into our room apologizing for theintrusion. He appeared a smart, fine-looking young man, restless anduneasy. P. D. Has a way of disposing of intruders that is quiteeffectual. I have not entirely disposed of some misgivings with respectto the legitimacy of his use of the means, so he commenced reading aloudin the Bible. The fellow was impatient and noisy, but he soon settleddown on the floor beside him. As he listened and talked with us therecollections of his father's house and his innocent childhood wereawakened. He was the child of pious parents, taught in Sabbath Schooland under pure home influences till thirteen. Then he was drawn into badcompany, soon after leaving home for the sea; and, since then, hasserved in the army and navy, --in the army in Wilson's and Hawkins's[brigades]. His was the old story of the total subjection of moral powerand thralldom to evil habits and associates. He would get drunk, whenever it was in his power. It was wrong; but he could not help it. Though he was awakened and recollected his parents looking long and invain for his return, he soon returned to camp, to his wallowing in themire, and I fear to his path to certain perdition. _3d. _ [9th month. ]--A Massachusetts major, the officer of the day, inhis inspection of the guard-house came into our room today. We werelying on the floor engaged in reading and writing. He was apparentlysurprised at this and inquired the name of our books; and finding theBible and Thomas à Kempis's _Imitation of Christ_, observed that theywere good books. I cannot say if he knew we were Friends, but he askedus why we were in here. Like all officers he proceeded to reason with us, and to advise us toserve, presenting no comfort if we still persisted in our course. Heinformed us of a young Friend, Edward W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass. , having been yesterday under punishment in the camp by his orders, whowas today doing service about camp. He said he was not going to put hisQuaker in the guard-house, but was going to bring him to work bypunishment. We were filled with deep sympathy for him and desired tocheer him by kind words as well as by the knowledge of our similarsituation. We obtained permission of the Major to write to him a letteropen to his inspection. "You may be sure, " said E. W. H. To us at W. , "theMajor did not allow it to leave his hands. " This forenoon the Lieutenant of the Day came in and acted the same part, though he was not so cool, and left expressing the hope, if we would notserve our country like men, that God would curse us. Oh, the trials fromthese officers! One after another comes in to relieve himself upon us. Finding us firm and not lacking in words, they usually fly into apassion and end by bullying us. How can we reason with such men? Theyare utterly unable to comprehend the pure Christianity and spiritualityof our principles. They have long stiffened their necks in their ownstrength. They have stopped their ears to the voice of the Spirit, andhardened their hearts to his influences. They see no duty higher thanthat to country. What shall we receive at their hands? This Major tells us we will not be tried here. Then we are to be sentinto the field, and there who will deliver us but God? Ah, I have nursedin my heart a hope that I may be spared to return home. Must I cast itout and have no desire, but to do the will of my Master. It were better, even so. O, Lord, Thy will be done. Grant I may make it my chief delightand render true submission thereto. Yesterday a little service was required of our dear L. M. M. , but heinsisted he could not comply. A sergeant and two privates were engaged. They coaxed and threatened him by turns, and with a determination not tobe baffled took him out to perform it. Though guns were loaded he stillstood firm and was soon brought back. We are happy here inguard-house, --too happy, too much at ease. We should see more of theComforter, --feel more strength, --if the trial were fiercer; but this iswell. This is a trial of strength of patience. _6th. _ [9th month. ]--Yesterday we had officers again for visitors. MajorJ. B. Gould, 13th Massachusetts, came in with the determination ofpersuading us to consent to be transferred to the hospital here, hebeing the Provost Marshal of the island and having the power to make thetransfer. He is different in being and bearing from those who have beenhere before. His motives were apparently those of pure kindness, and hisdemeanour was that of a gentleman. Though he talked with us more than anhour, he lost no part of his self-control or good humour. So by hiseloquence and kindness he made more impression upon us than any before. As Congregationalist he well knew the courts of the temple, but the Holyof Holies he had never seen, and knew nothing of its secrets. Heunderstood expediency; but is not the man to "lay down his life for mysake. " He is sincere and seems to think what Major Gould believes cannotbe far from right. After his attempt we remained as firm as ever. Wemust expect all means will be tried upon us, and no less persuasion thanthreats. AT THE HOSPITAL, _7th. _ [9th month. ]--Yesterday morning came to us MajorGould again, informing us that he had come to take us out of that dirtyplace, as he could not see such respectable men lying there, and wasgoing to take us up to the hospital. We assured him we could not servethere, and asked him if he would not bring us back when we had theredeclared our purpose. He would not reply directly; but brought us hereand left us. When the surgeon knew our determination, he was for halingus back at once; what he wanted, he said, was willing men. We sat onthe sward without the hospital tents till nearly noon, for some one totake us back; when we were ordered to move into the tents and quartersassigned us in the mess-room. The Major must have interposed, demonstrating his kindness by his resolution that we should occupy andenjoy the pleasanter quarters of the hospital, certainly if serving; butnone the less so if we declined. Later in the day L. M. M. And P. D. Weresitting without, when he passed them and, laughing heartily, declaredthey were the strangest prisoners of war he ever saw. He stopped sometime to talk with them and when they came in they declared him a kindand honest man. If we interpret aright his conduct, this dangerous trial is over, and wehave escaped the perplexities that his kindness and determination threwabout us. _13th. _--Last night we received a letter from Henry Dickinson, statingthat the President, though sympathizing with those in our situation, felt bound by the Conscription Act, and felt liberty, in view of hisoath to execute the laws, to do no more than detail us from activeservice to hospital duty, or to the charge of the coloured refugees. Formore than a week have we lain here, refusing to engage in hospitalservice; shall we retrace the steps of the past week? Or shall we goSouth as overseers of the blacks on the confiscated estates of therebels, to act under military commanders and to report to such? Whatwould become of our testimony and our determination to preserveourselves clear of the guilt of this war? P. S. We have written back to Henry Dickinson that we cannot purchaselife at cost of peace of soul. _14th. _--We have been exceeding sorrowful since receiving advice--as wemust call it--from H. D. To enter the hospital service or some similarsituation. We did not look for that from him. It is not what our Friendssent us out for; nor is it what we came for. We shall feel desolate anddreary in our position, unless supported and cheered by the words ofthose who have at heart our best interests more than regard for ourpersonal welfare. We walk as we feel guided by Best Wisdom. Oh, may werun and not err in the high path of Holiness. _16th. _--Yesterday a son-in-law of N. B. Of Lynn came to see us. He wasgoing to get passes for one or two of the Lynn Friends, that they mightcome over to see us today. He informed us that the sentiment of theFriends hereabouts was that we might enter the hospital withoutcompromising our principles; and he produced a letter from W. W. To S. B. To the same effect. W. W. Expressed his opinion that we might do sowithout doing it in lieu of other service. How can we evade a fact?Does not the government both demand and accept it as in lieu of otherservice? Oh, the cruelest blow of all comes from our friends. _17th. _--Although this trial was brought upon us by our friends, theirintentions were well meant. Their regard for our personal welfare andsafety too much absorbs the zeal they should possess for the maintenanceof the principle of the peaceableness of our Master's kingdom. Anunfaithfulness to this through meekness and timidity seemsmanifest, --too great a desire to avoid suffering at some sacrifice ofprinciple, perhaps, --too little of placing of Faith and confidence uponthe Rock of Eternal Truth. Our friends at home, with W. D. At their head, support us; and yesterday, at the opportune moment, just as we were most distressed by thesolicitations of our visitors, kind and cheering words of Truth weresent us through dear C. M. P. , whose love rushes out to us warm and livingand just from an overflowing fountain. I must record another work of kind attention shown us by Major Gould. Before we embarked, he came to us for a friendly visit. As we passed himon our way to the wharf he bade us Farewell and expressed a hope weshould not have so hard a time as we feared. And after we were aboardthe steamer, as the result of his interference on our behalf, we mustbelieve, we were singled out from the midst of the prisoners, among whomwe had been placed previous to coming aboard, and allowed the liberty ofthe vessel. By this are we saved much suffering, as the other prisonerswere kept under close guard in a corner on the outside of the boat. FOREST CITY UP THE POTOMAC. _22nd. _ [9th month. ]--It was near noon, yesterday, when we turned in from sea between Cape Charles and Henry;and, running thence down across the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, alongsideOld Point Comfort, dropped anchor off Fortress Monroe. The scene aroundus was one of beauty, though many of its adornments were the results andmeans of wrong. The sunshine was brighter, the verdure greener to oureyes weary of the sea, and the calm was milder and more grateful that wehad so long tossed in the storm. The anchor was soon drawn up again and the _Forest City_ steamed up theJames River toward Newport News, and turning to the left between thelow, pine-grown banks, passed Norfolk to leave the New Hampshiredetachment at Portsmouth. Coming back to Fortress Monroe, some freight was landed; and in the calmclear light of the moon, we swung away from shore and dropping down themouth of the river, rounded Old Point, and, going up the Chesapeake, entered the Potomac in the night-time. OFF SHORE, ALEXANDRIA. _23d. _--Here we anchored last night after themain detachment was landed, and the Vermont and Massachusetts menremained on board another night. We hear we are to go right to thefield, where active operations are going on. This seems hard. We havenot till now given up the hope that we were not to go out into Virginiawith the rest of the men, but were to be kept here at Washington. Fierce, indeed, are our trials. I am not discouraged entirely; but I amweak from want of food which I can eat, and from sickness. I do not knowhow I am going to live in such way, or get to the front. P. S. We have just landed; and I had the liberty to buy a pie of a womanhawking such things, that has strengthened me wonderfully. CAMP NEAR CULPEPER. _25th. _--My distress is too great for words; but Imust overcome my disinclination to write, or this record will remainunfinished. So, with aching head and heart, I proceed. Yesterday morning we were roused early for breakfast and for preparationfor starting. After marching out of the barracks, we were first taken tothe armory, where each man received a gun and its equipments and a pieceof tent. We stood in line, waiting for our turn with apprehensions ofcoming trouble. Though we had felt free to keep with those among whom wehad been placed, we could not consent to carry a gun, even though we didnot intend to use it; and, from our previous experience, we knew itwould go harder with us, if we took the first step in the wrongdirection, though it might seem an unimportant one, and an easy and notvery wrong way to avoid difficulty. So we felt decided we must declinereceiving the guns. In the hurry and bustle of equipping a detachmentof soldiers, one attempting to explain a position and the groundstherefor so peculiar as ours to junior, petty officers, possessingliberally the characteristics of these: pride, vanity, conceit, and anarbitrary spirit, impatience, profanity, and contempt for holy things, must needs find the opportunity a very unfavourable one. We succeeded in giving these young officers a slight idea of what wewere; and endeavoured to answer their questions of why we did not payour commutation, and avail ourselves of that provision made expresslyfor such; of why we had come as far as that place, etc. We realized thenthe unpleasant results of that practice, that had been employed with usby the successive officers into whose hands we had fallen, --of shirkingany responsibility, and of passing us on to the next officer above. A council was soon holden to decide what to do with us. One proposed toplace us under arrest, a sentiment we rather hoped might prevail, as itmight prevent our being sent on to the front; but another, in some spiteand impatience, insisted, as it was their duty to supply a gun to everyman and forward him, that the guns should be put upon us, and we be madeto carry them. Accordingly the equipment was buckled about us, and thestraps of the guns being loosened, they were thrust over our heads andhung upon our shoulders. In this way we were urged forward through thestreets of Alexandria; and, having been put upon a long train of dirtcars, were started for Culpeper. We came over a long stretch ofdesolated and deserted country, through battlefields of previoussummers, and through many camps now lively with the work of this presentcampaign. Seeing, for the first time, a country made dreary by thewar-blight, a country once adorned with groves and green pastures andmeadows and fields of waving grain, and happy with a thousand homes, nowlaid with the ground, one realizes as he can in no other way somethingof the ruin that lies in the trail of a war. But upon these fields ofVirginia, once so fair, there rests a two-fold blight, first that ofslavery, now that of war. When one contrasts the face of this countrywith the smiling hillsides and vales of New England, he sees stampedupon it in characters so marked, none but a blind man can fail to read, the great irrefutable arguments against slavery and against war, too;and must be filled with loathing for these twin relics of barbarism, soawful in the potency of their consequences that they can change even theface of the country. Through the heat of this long ride, we felt our total lack of water andthe meagreness of our supply of food. Our thirst became so oppressiveas we were marched here from Culpeper, some four miles with scarcely ahalt to rest, under our heavy loads, and through the heat and deep dustof the road, that we drank water and dipped in the brooks we passed, though it was discoloured with the soap the soldiers had used inwashing. The guns interfered with our walking, and, slipping down, dragged with painful weight upon our shoulders. Poor P. D. Fell out fromexhaustion and did not come in till we had been some little time at thecamp. We were taken to the 4th Vermont regiment and soon apportioned tocompanies. Though we waited upon the officer commanding the company inwhich we were placed, and endeavoured to explain our situation, we wererequired immediately after to be present at inspection of arms. Wedeclined, but an attempt was made to force us to obedience, first, bythe officers of the company, then, by those of the regiment; but, failing to exact obedience of us, we were ordered by the colonel to betied, and, if we made outcry, to be gagged also, and to be kept so tillhe gave orders for our release. After two or three hours we wererelieved and left under guard; lying down on the ground in the open air, and covering ourselves with our blankets, we soon fell asleep fromexhaustion, and the fatigue of the day. This morning the officers told us we must yield. We must obey and serve. We were threatened great severities and even death. We seem perfectly atthe mercy of the military power, and, more, in the hands of the inferiorofficers, who, from their being far removed from Washington, feel lessrestraint from those Regulations of the Army, which are for theprotection of privates from personal abuse. _26th. _ [_9th_ month. ]--Yesterday my mind was much agitated: doubts andfears and forebodings seized me. I was alone, seeking a resting-placeand finding none. It seemed as if God had forsaken me in this dark hour;and the Tempter whispered, that after all I might be only the victim ofa delusion. My prayers for faith and strength seemed all in vain. But this morning I enjoy peace, and feel as though I could faceanything. Though I am as a lamb in the shambles, yet do I cry, "Thy willbe done, " and can indeed say, -- Passive to His holy will Trust I in my Master still Even though he slay me. I mind me of the anxiety of our dear friends about home, and of theirprayers for us. Oh, praise be to the Lord for the peace and love and resignation thathas filled my soul today! Oh, the passing beauty of holiness! There isa holy life that is above fear; it is a close communion with Christ. Ipray for this continually but am not free from the shadow and thetempter. There is ever present with us the thought that perhaps we shallserve the Lord the most effectually by our death, and desire, if that bethe service He requires of us, that we may be ready and resigned. REGIMENTAL HOSPITAL, 4th Vermont. _29th. _ [_9th_ month. ]--On the eveningof the 26th the Colonel came to us apologizing for the roughness withwhich he treated us at first, which was, as he insisted, throughignorance of our real character and position. He told us if we persistedin our course, death would probably follow; though at another time heconfessed to P. D. That this would only be the extreme sentence ofcourt-martial. He urged us to go into the hospital, stating that this course wasadvised by Friends about New York. We were too well aware of such a factto make any denial, though it was a subject of surprise to us that heshould be informed of it. He pleaded with us long and earnestly, urgingus with many promises of indulgence and favour and attentions we foundafterwards to be untrue. He gave us till the next morning to considerthe question and report our decision. In our discussion of the subjectamong ourselves, we were very much perplexed. If all his statementsconcerning the ground taken by our Society were true, we seemed to beliable, if we persisted in the course which alone seemed to us to be inaccordance with Truth, to be exposed to the charge of over-zeal andfanaticism even among our own brethren. Regarding the work to be done inhospital as one of mercy and benevolence, we asked if we had any rightto refuse its performance; and questioned whether we could do more goodby endeavouring to bear to the end a clear testimony against war, thanby labouring by word and deed among the needy in the hospitals andcamps. We saw around us a rich field for usefulness in which there werescarce any labourers, and toward whose work our hands had often startedinvoluntarily and unbidden. At last we consented to a trial, at leasttill we could make inquiries concerning the Colonel's allegations, andask the counsel of our friends, reserving the privilege of returning toour former position. At first a great load seemed rolled away from us; we rejoiced in theprospect of life again. But soon there prevailed a feeling ofcondemnation, as though we had sold our Master. And that first day wasone of the bitterest I ever experienced. It was a time of stern conflictof soul. The voice that seemed to say, "Follow me, " as I soughtguidance the night before, kept pleading with me, convincing of sin, till I knew of a truth my feet had strayed from His path. TheScriptures, which the day before I could scarcely open without findingwords of strength and comfort, seemed closed against me, till after asevere struggle alone in the wood to which I had retired, I consented togive up and retrace my steps in faith. But it was too late. L. M. M. Wishing to make a fair, honest trial, we were brought here--P. D. Beingalready here unwell. We feel we are erring; but scarce anything isrequired of us and we wait to hear from Friends. Of these days of going down into sin, I wish to make little mention. Iwould that my record of such degradation be brief. We wish to come to anunderstanding with our friends and the Society before we move, but itdoes not seem that we can repress the upheavings of Truth in ourhearts. We are bruised by sin. It is with pleasure I record we have just waited upon the Colonel withan explanation of our distress of mind, requesting him to proceed withcourt-martial. We were kindly and tenderly received. "If you want atrial I can give it to you, " he answered. The brigade has just marchedout to join with the division for inspection. After that we are to haveattention to our case. P. M. There is particular cause for congratulation in the considerationthat we took this step this morning, when now we receive a letter fromH. D. Charging us to faithfulness. When lately I have seen dear L. M. M. In the thoroughness and patience ofhis trial to perform service in hospital, his uneasiness and theintensity of his struggle as manifested by his silence and dispositionto avoid the company of his friends, and seen him fail and declare tous, "I cannot stay here, " I have received a new proof, and to me astrong one, because it is from the experimental knowledge of an honestman, that no Friend, who is really such, desiring to keep himself clearof complicity with this system of war and to bear a perfect testimonyagainst it, can lawfully perform service in the hospitals of the Army inlieu of bearing arms. _10th_ mo. , _3d. _--Today dawned fair and our Camp is dry again. I wasasked to clean the gun I brought, and declining, was tied some two hoursupon the ground. _6th. _ AT WASHINGTON. --At first, after being informed of our decliningto serve in his hospital, Colonel Foster did not appear altered in hiskind regard for us. But his spleen soon became evident. At the time weasked for a trial by court-martial, and it was his duty to place usunder arrest and proceed with the preferring of his charges against us. For a while he seemed to hesitate and consult his inferior officers, andamong them his Chaplain. The result of the conference was our beingordered into our companies, that, separated, and with the force of theofficers of a company bearing upon us, we might the more likely besubdued. Yet the Colonel assured L. M. M. , interceding in my behalf, whenthe lieutenant commanding my company threatened force upon me, that heshould not allow any personal injury. When we marched next day I wascompelled to bear a gun and equipments. My associates were morefortunate, for, being asked if they would carry their guns, declined andsaw no more trouble from them. The captain of the company in which P. D. Was placed told him he did not believe he was ugly about it, and that hecould only put him under arrest and prefer charges against him. Heaccordingly was taken under guard, where he lay till we left for here. The next morning the men were busy in burnishing their arms. When Ilooked toward the one I had borne, yellow with rust, I trembled in theweakness of the flesh at the trial I felt impending over me. Before theColonel was up I knocked at his tent, but was told he was asleep, though, through the opening, I saw him lying gazing at me. Although Ifelt I should gain no relief from him, I applied again soon after. Headmitted me and, lying on his bed, inquired with cold heartlessness whatI wanted. I stated to him, that I could never consent to serve, and, being under the war-power, was resigned to suffer instead all the justpenalties of the law. I begged of him release from the attempts byviolence to compel my obedience and service, and a trial, though likelyto be made by those having no sympathy with me, yet probably in amanner comformable to law. He replied that he had shown us all the favour he should; that he had, now, turned us over to the military power and was going to let that takeits course; that is, henceforth we were to be at the mercy of theinferior officers, without appeal to law, justice, or mercy. He said hehad placed us in a pleasant position, against which we could have noreasonable objection, and that we had failed to perform our agreement. He wished to deny that our consent was only temporary and conditional. He declared, furthermore, his belief, that a man who would not fight forhis country did not deserve to live. I was glad to withdraw from hispresence as soon as I could. I went back to my tent and lay down for a season of retirement, endeavouring to gain resignation to any event. I dreaded torture anddesired strength of flesh and spirit. My trial soon came. The lieutenantcalled me out, and pointing to the gun that lay near by, asked if I wasgoing to clean it. I replied to him, that I could not comply withmilitary requisitions, and felt resigned to the consequences. "I do notask about your feelings; I want to know if you are going to clean thatgun?" "I cannot do it, " was my answer. He went away, saying, "Verywell, " and I crawled into the tent again. Two sergeants soon called forme, and taking me a little aside, bid me lie down on my back, andstretching my limbs apart tied cords to my wrists and ankles and theseto four stakes driven in the ground somewhat in the form of an X. I was very quiet in my mind as I lay there on the ground [soaked] withthe rain of the previous day, exposed to the heat of the sun, andsuffering keenly from the cords binding my wrists and straining mymuscles. And, if I dared the presumption, I should say that I caught aglimpse of heavenly pity. I wept, not so much from my own suffering asfrom sorrow that such things should be in our own country, where Justiceand Freedom and Liberty of Conscience have been the annual boast ofFourth-of-July orators so many years. It seemed that our forefathers inthe faith had wrought and suffered in vain, when the privileges they sodearly bought were so soon set aside. And I was sad, that oneendeavouring to follow our dear Master should be so generally regardedas a despicable and stubborn culprit. After something like an hour had passed, the lieutenant came with hisorderly to ask me if I was ready to clean the gun. I replied to theorderly asking the question, that it could but give me pain to be askedor required to do anything I believed wrong. He repeated it to thelieutenant just behind him, who advanced and addressed me. I wasfavoured to improve the opportunity to say to him a few things I wished. He said little; and, when I had finished, he withdrew with the otherswho had gathered around. About the end of another hour his orderly cameand released me. I arose and sat on the ground. I did not rise to go away. I had notwhere to go, nothing to do. As I sat there my heart swelled with joyfrom above. The consolation and sweet fruit of tribulation patientlyendured. But I also grieved, that the world was so far gone astray, socruel and blind. It seemed as if the gospel of Christ had never beenpreached upon earth, and the beautiful example of his life had beenutterly lost sight of. Some of the men came about me, advising me to yield, and among them oneof those who had tied me down, telling me what I had already sufferedwas nothing to what I must yet suffer unless I yielded; that human fleshcould not endure what they would put upon me. I wondered if it could bethat they could force me to obedience by torture, and examined myselfclosely to see if they had advanced as yet one step toward theaccomplishment of their purposes. Though weaker in body, I believed Ifound myself, through divine strength, as firm in my resolution tomaintain my allegiance to my Master. The relaxation of my nerves and muscles after having been so tenselystrained left me that afternoon so weak that I could hardly walk orperform any mental exertion. I had not yet eaten the mean and scanty breakfast I had prepared, when Iwas ordered to pack up my things and report myself at the lieutenant'stent. I was accustomed to such orders and complied, little moved. The lieutenant received me politely with, "Good-morning, Mr. Pringle, "and desiring me to be seated, proceeded with the writing with which hewas engaged. I sat down in some wonderment and sought to be quiet andprepared for any event. "You are ordered to report to Washington, " said he; "I do not know whatit is for. " I assured him that neither did I know. We were gatheredbefore the Major's tent for preparation for departure. The regimentalofficers were there manifesting surprise and chagrin; for they could notbut show both as they looked upon us, whom the day before they werethreatening to crush into submission, and attempting also to executetheir threats that morning, standing out of their power and under ordersfrom one superior to their Major Commanding E. M. As the bird uncaged, so were our hearts that morning. Short and uncertain at first were theflights of Hope. As the slave many times before us, leaving his yokebehind him, turned from the plantations of Virginia and set his facetoward the far North, so we from out a grasp as close and as abundant insuffering and severity, and from without the line of bayonets that hadso many weeks surrounded us, turned our backs upon the camp of the 4thVermont and took our way over the turnpike that ran through the tentedfields of Culpeper. At the War Office we were soon admitted to an audience with the AdjutantGeneral, Colonel Townsend, whom we found to be a very fine man, mild andkind. He referred our cases to the Secretary of War, Stanton, by whom wewere ordered to report for service to Surgeon General Hammond. Here wemet Isaac Newton, Commissioner of Agriculture, waiting for our arrival, and James Austin of Nantucket, expecting his son, Charles L. Austin, andEdward W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass. , conscripted Friends like ourselves, and ordered here from the 22nd Massachusetts. We understand it is through the influence of Isaac Newton that Friendshave been able to approach the heads of Government in our behalf and toprevail with them to so great an extent. He explained to us thecircumstance in which we are placed. That the Secretary of War andPresident sympathized with Friends in their present suffering, and wouldgrant them full release, but that they felt themselves bound by theiroaths that they would execute the laws, to carry out to its full extentthe Conscription Act. That there appeared but one door of reliefopen, --that was to parole us and allow us to go home, but subject totheir call again ostensibly, though this they neither wished norproposed to do. That the fact of Friends in the Army and refusingservice had attracted public attention so that it was not expedient toparole us at present. That, therefore, we were to be sent to one of thehospitals for a short time, where it was hoped and expressly requestedthat we would consent to remain quiet and acquiesce, if possible, inwhatever might be required of us. That our work there would be quitefree from objection, being for the direct relief of the sick; and thatthere we would release none for active service in the field, as thenurses were hired civilians. These requirements being so much less objectionable than we had feared, we felt relief, and consented to them. I. N. Went with us himself to theSurgeon General's office, where he procured peculiar favours for us:that we should be sent to a hospital in the city, where he could see usoften; and that orders should be given that nothing should interferewith our comfort, or our enjoyment of our consciences. Thence we were sent to Medical Purveyor Abbot, who assigned us to thebest hospital in the city, the Douglas Hospital. The next day after our coming here Isaac Newton and James Austin came toadd to our number E. W. H. And C. L. A. , so now there are five of us insteadof three. We are pleasantly situated in a room by ourselves in the upperor fourth story, and are enjoying our advantages of good quarters andtolerable food as no one can except he has been deprived of them. [_10th_ month] _8th. _--Today we have a pass to go out to see the city. _9th. _--We all went, thinking to do the whole city in a day, but beforethe time of our passes expired, we were glad to drag ourselves back tothe rest and quiet of D. H. During the day we called upon our friendI. N. In the Patent Office. When he came to see us on the 7th, he statedhe had called upon the President that afternoon to request him torelease us and let us go home to our friends. The President promised toconsider it over-night. Accordingly yesterday morning, as I. N. Told us, he waited upon him again. He found there a woman in the greatestdistress. Her son, only a boy of fifteen years and four months, havingbeen enticed into the Army, had deserted and been sentenced to be shotthe next day. As the clerks were telling her, the President was in theWar Office and could not be seen, nor did they think he could attend toher case that day. I. N. Found her almost wild with grief. "Do notdespair, my good woman, " said he, "I guess the President can be seenafter a bit. " He soon presented her case to the President, who exclaimedat once, "That must not be, I must look into that case, before theyshoot that boy"; and telegraphed at once to have the order suspended. I. N. Judged it was not a fit time to urge our case. We feel we canafford to wait, that a life may be saved. But we long for release. We donot feel easy to remain here. _11th. _--Today we attended meeting held in the house of a Friend, AsaArnold, living near here. There were but four persons beside ourselves. E. W. H. And C. L. A. Showed their copy of the charges about to have beenpreferred against them in court-martial before they left their regiment, to a lawyer who attended the meeting. He laughed at the Specification ofMutiny, declaring such a charge could not have been lawfully sustainedagainst them. The experiences of our new friends were similar to ours, except theyfell among officers who usually showed them favour and rejoiced withthem in their release. _13th. _--L. M. M. Had quite an adventure yesterday. He being fireman withanother was in the furnace room among three or four others, when theofficer of the day, one of the surgeons, passed around on inspection. "Stand up, " he ordered them, wishing to be saluted. The others arose;but by no means L. The order was repeated for his benefit, but he satwith his cap on, telling the surgeon he had supposed he was excused fromsuch things as he was one of the Friends. Thereat the officer flew athim, exclaiming, he would take the Quaker out of him. He snatched offhis cap and seizing him by the collar tried to raise him to his feet;but finding his strength insufficient and that L. Was not to befrightened, he changed his purpose in his wrath and calling for thecorporal of the guard had him taken to the guard-house. This was abouteleven A. M. And he lay there till about six P. M. , when the surgeon incharge, arriving home and hearing of it, ordered the officer of the dayto go and take him out, telling him never to put another man into theguard-house while he was in charge here without consulting him. Themanner of his release was very satisfactory to us, and we waited forthis rather than effect it by our own efforts. We are all getting uneasyabout remaining here, and if our release do not come soon, we feel wemust intercede with the authorities, even if the alternative beimprisonment. The privations I have endured since leaving home, the great tax upon mynervous strength, and my mind as well, since I have had charge of ourextensive correspondence, are beginning to tell upon my health and Ilong for rest. _20th. _ We begin to feel we shall have to decline service asheretofore, unless our position is changed. I shall not say but wesubmit too much in not declining at once, but it has seemed most prudentat least to make suit with Government rather than provoke the hostilityof their subalterns. We were ordered here with little understanding ofthe true state of things as they really exist here; and were advised byFriends to come and make no objections, being assured it was but for avery brief time and only a matter of form. It might not have been wrong;but as we find we do too much fill the places of soldiers (L. M. M. 'sfellow fireman has just left for the field, and I am to take his place, for instance), and are clearly doing military service, we arecontinually oppressed by a sense of guilt, that makes our strugglesearnest. _21st. _--I. N. Has not called yet; our situation is becoming almostintolerable. I query if patience is justified under the circumstances. My distress of mind may be enhanced by my feeble condition of health, for today I am confined to my bed, almost too weak to get downstairs. This is owing to exposure after being heated over the furnaces. _26th. _--Though a week has gone by, and my cold has left me, I find I amno better, and that I am reduced very low in strength and flesh by thesickness and pain I am experiencing. Yet I still persist in going belowonce a day. The food I am able to get is not such as is proper. _11th_ mo. , _5th. _--I spend most of my time on my bed, much of it alone. And very precious to me is the nearness unto the Master I am favoured toattain to. Notwithstanding my situation and state, I am happy in theenjoyment of His consolations. Lately my confidence has been strong, andI think I begin to feel that our patience is soon to be rewarded withrelief; insomuch that a little while ago, when dear P. D. Was almostovercome with sorrow, I felt bold to comfort him with the assurance ofmy belief, that it would not be long so. My mind is too weak to allow ofmy reading much; and, though I enjoy the company of my companions a partof the time, especially in the evening, I am much alone; which affordsme abundant time for meditation and waiting upon God. The fruits of thisare sweet, and a recompense for affliction. _6th. _--Last evening E. W. H. Saw I. N. Particularly on my behalf, Isuppose. He left at once for the President. This morning he called toinform us of his interview at the White House. The President was movedto sympathy in my behalf, when I. N. Gave him a letter from one of ourFriends in New York. After its perusal he exclaimed to our friend, "Iwant you to go and tell Stanton that it is my wish all those young menbe sent home at once. " He was on his way to the Secretary this morningas he called. Later. I. N. Has just called again informing us in joy that we are free. At the War Office he was urging the Secretary to consent to our paroles, when the President entered. "It is my urgent wish, " said he. TheSecretary yielded; the order was given, and we were released. What wehad waited for so many weeks was accomplished in a few moments by aProvidential ordering of circumstances. _7th. _--I. N. Came again last evening bringing our paroles. Thepreliminary arrangements are being made, and we are to start thisafternoon for New York. _Note. _ Rising from my sick-bed to undertake this journey, which lastedthrough the night, its fatigues overcame me, and upon my arrival in NewYork I was seized with delirium from which I only recovered after manyweeks, through the mercy and favour of Him, who in all this trial hadbeen our guide and strength and comfort. THE END PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA The following pages contain advertisements of a few of the Macmillanbooks on kindred subjects The Heart of the Puritan By ELIZABETH DEERING HANSCOM _$1. 50_ The purpose of this volume is stated by the editor in these words: "Idetermined to bring together in one place in a convenient compendium, asit were, some gleanings from many and dusty tomes, some fragments ofreality, in the hope that from them might radiate for others, as for me, shafts of light to penetrate the past. " The result is unique in therevelation afforded in the Puritans' own words of their daily walk andconversation and of that inner temper which governed their public acts. The range is from orders for clothes and directions for an Atlanticvoyage to the soul searchings of Cotton Mather and the spiritualecstasies of Mrs. Jonathan Edwards. The idea is a happy one, and Miss Hanscom carries it through with greattact and deftness. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York The Tree of Heaven By MAY SINCLAIR _Cloth, $1. 60_ A singularly penetrating story of modern life, written in the author'svery best manner. The scheme, the root motive of the book, may be saidto be a vindication of the present generation--the generation that wascondemned as neurotic and decadent by common consent a little more thanthree years ago, but is now enduring the ordeal of the war with greatsingleness of heart. This theme, in Miss Sinclair's hands, assumes bigproportions and gives her at the same time ample opportunity forcharacter analysis, in which art she is equalled by few contemporarywriters. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York Fairhope: The Annals of a Country Church By EDGAR DEWITT JONES _Cloth, 12mo. , $1. 25_ Fairhope meeting-house is in the northermost country of Kentucky, in themidst of a populous farming community. In this book Mr. Jones, alife-long member of the community, tells the story of Fairhopemeeting-house. The book is a remarkably sympathetic and appealingaccount of a phase of American rural life at a time when religion wasalways the uppermost topic in people's minds. "Simple narratives of our people, our preachers, and the lights andshadows of our rural religious life"--is the author's modest descriptionof his work. But this gives no hint of the book's peculiar charm. Thosewho love birds and stretches of green meadow, glimpses of lordly andhigh hills, the soil and the sincere life lived on it, will find here agenuine delight. Above all is the interest in the preachers themselves. "There weregiants in those days, and for the most part our ministers were good andnoble men. Of their goodness and sincerity these annals bear witness!" THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York Christine By ALICE CHOLMONDELEY _Cloth, 12mo. , $1. 25_ "A book which is true in essentials--so real that one is tempted todoubt whether it is fiction at all--doubly welcome and doublyimportant. . . . It would be difficult indeed to find a book in which thestate of mind of the German people is pictured so cleverly, with so muchunderstanding and convincing detail. . . . Intelligent, generous, sweet-natured, broadminded, quick to see and to appreciate all that isbeautiful either in nature or in art, rejoicing humbly over her owngreat gift, endowed with a keen sense of humour, Christine's is athoroughly wholesome and lovable character. But charming as Christine'spersonality and her literary style both are, the main value of the booklies in its admirably lucid analysis of the German mind. "--_New YorkTimes. _ "Absolutely different from preceding books of the war. Its very freedomand girlishness of expression, its very simplicity and open-heartedness, prove the truth of its pictures. "--_New York World. _ "A luminous story of a sensitive and generous nature, the spontaneousexpression of one spirited, affectionate, ardently ambitious, andblessed with a sense of humour. "--_Boston Herald. _ "The next time some sentimental old lady of either sex, who 'can't seewhy we have to send our boys abroad, ' comes into your vision, and youknow they are too unintelligent (they usually are) to understand aserious essay, try to trap them into reading 'Christine. ' If you succeedwe know it will do them good. "--_Town and Country. _ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York