“From my first acquaintance,” says an Episcopal clergyman, “I was unusually well pleased with him. His frankness, cordiality, intelligence, above all, his devotion to the Christian work he had come so far to do, won the esteem of all, and even excited remark from many. His heart was full of that best of Christian graces, charity. On Friday evening, Dec. 9, he said to me, ‘Let us call on our friends at Hospital 14; but half-past seven will be time enough for that, and meanwhile I’ll have a short service down in the barracks: I have not done enough to-day;’ this, though I knew he had spent the whole day in ‘the front.’ The barracks is a large, unfinished hotel, the property of the rebel Gen. Zollicoffer, with no sash in the window frames. This, of course, makes it at best a very uncomfortable place for men to live in. There are generally between one thousand and four thousand soldiers here in transit between the front and the North. James, more frequently than any other delegate, visited this place in the evening, to have services. He frequently spoke of the pleasure this gave him. We were each in turn appointed to this duty; but James again and again went, whether specially assigned or not. On Saturday, the 10th, he went. He found there a sick soldier without a blanket, compelled to pass the night in a room which was open to the chilling and wintry winds. James felt well, and believed that the short walk home in the cold would not harm him as much as a long night’s exposure would the needy soldier, and at once gave the poor fellow his shawl. Sunday the 11th came, and feeling still well, he passed the day among the cavalry, several miles distant from our home, returning quite late. It was not until Monday the 12th that he seemed indisposed. He kept to the sofa most of the day, and had one or two chills. It was not until Tuesday the 13th that his symptoms revealed the fearful congestive chill. He would often spend an hour after the labors of the day in my room talking over what had been said and done. When he met with earnest and anxious, but not well-established men, his custom was to insert written pledges, signed by both, usually, in their Testaments, ‘to be unceasing in their endeavors to live so as to meet in heaven.’ The Bible was constantly in his hand when in-doors, before leaving in the morning, and after the duties of the day. He loved it; and his conscientious discharge of all his duties proved to all that he endeavored to live up to its precepts. On that Friday evening after his services in the barracks, as we walked toward Hospital 14, he spoke of the interesting meeting he had just had, and added, ‘Though the sermon my congregation got was a poor one, it had one good quality,--it was full of the Bible. I always try to introduce plenty of that good book, that those who will not read its pages may hear.’