I have said but little for some time past of our religious exercises. It must not be inferred that we had lost the zeal enkindled during the dark hours in Atlanta. Up-stairs we continued to pray, sing, and repeat Bible lessons morning and evening. When we first came into the room below, where we were strangers, and where the whole current of opinion seemed utterly irreligious, I did feel as if it would be impossible for us in the common room to worship publicly as before. At the arrival of the usual hour I was sorely perplexed, and almost persuaded to wait a day or two for better acquaintance with our new room-mates. But the matter was settled providentially for us. Mr. Pierce, who had accompanied us all the way from Knoxville, and who was very profane in speech, had never shown any interest in our prayers beyond remaining silent when we were thus employed. But now he stepped on a box, and calling and stamping until he had the attention of everybody in the room, he said,-- "I have a matter to propose for our general interest. We have some preachers with us who are accustomed to sing and pray and read the Bible every morning and evening. Now, I am wicked enough myself, but I like to have something good going on; so I propose that we invite them to go ahead as they have done in other prisons. All that favor the motion say 'aye!'" The response was most hearty. In a prison a proposition for anything which will break the monotony for even a little time is sure of favor. No one voted in the negative, and Pierce, turning to me, said, "Go ahead."