It is perhaps on the whole better to dwell lightly upon the record of John Chambers during the war, partly because it is a blessed thing to know how to forget. Even the battlefields "nature has long since healed and reconciled to herself in the sweet oblivion of flowers". We have now a united country, the ulcer of slavery is a thing of long ago, and some things are seen more clearly. Possibly brethren of John Chambers who publicly refused to shake hands with him have since been sorry. It is also quite certain that in the days of heat and bitterness, Mr. Chambers was held responsible for some things which members of his family, or relatives, said or did, and not himself. Afterwards, when charged with holding certain sentiments, or appealed to to vindicate his reputation, he refused, as he said "to hide himself behind a woman". He was too much of a man to say "women did it". Mrs. Martha Chambers, his second wife, had died in March, 1860. During the war or most of it, he was a widower. Within this period, his daughter-in-law, a Virginia lady, the wife of Duncan Chambers, presided over his household. Our pastor's nephew, Duncan Chambers Milner (now pastor at Joliet, Ill.) a soldier in the Union army, was wounded, and spent some time during his convalescence in his uncle's home, afterwards entering upon the work of the United States Christian Commission. He bears witness how his uncle, with rock-like convictions, strove, in spite of the obloquy of enemies and the coldness of friends, to be patriot, pastor, and Christian, bearing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things, in a trying time, when political slander was busy, going on with his work as usual. In all the separations and differences between the great pastor and some members of his flock, there was no personal bitterness or angry word. It was only on questions of national policy that they differed. Their brotherly regard remained the same, and God was glorified. This certainly was true. John Chambers, the hero quailed not before threats of being hanged at the lamp post. He went about his duties as usual. Like most men whose lives are threatened, our pastor died quietly in his bed.