The doctor’s hand is on his pulse, sustaining stimulants are steadily given, and once more a fitful gleam of life appears; he rallies for the moment. We hear the low voice of the chaplain, kneeling at his side, “You would not object to a prayer?” The wandering eyes say more than the languid lips, which can but frame, in a tone of surprise, the word, “object?” The same bright smile, the same far-off gaze as the words of prayer ascend. “You are trusting, you are resting on the merits of your precious Saviour?” Once more that strife, that sore struggle to speak; and suddenly, as though the will had mastered the flesh, sounds forth, in clear, strong tones, which ring through the ward, “My only base, my foundation!” Blessed for us all, when that awful hour is upon us, if we can so trustfully, so fearlessly meet it; so fully and entirely realize the One Eternal Rock to be our “foundation.” We dare no longer call him “poor William;” rather, as we kneel by his side, let us breathe forth a thanksgiving for such beautiful assurance, that his last battle is fought, his victory won. “Little skills it when or how, If Thou comest then or now-- With a smooth or angry brow. “Come Thou must, and we must die-- Jesu, Saviour, stand Thou by, When that last sleep seals our eye!” THE TWO ARMIES. U.S.A. HOSPITAL, September 29, 1862. I trust, dear C., this bright, beautiful day may have brought you as much pleasure as it has done to me, and that you have been able to enjoy it as you would most wish to do. I escaped from my duties here for one hour, and spent it you know where. On my return, we were favored with a visit from the Bishop of Minnesota, who is here on his way to the General Convention. He seemed much interested in going through the wards, had a kind word and friendly greeting for each man. One thing particularly impressed me,--his tact in addressing them. Instead of boring them as I do with “What is your name? What is your regiment?” he glanced his eye upon the card at the head of the bed, whereon all such particulars are written, and then said, “Who is the colonel of the Forty-fourth?” or, “Was the Eighteenth Massachusetts much cut up?” Instantly the man would brighten, feel that there was one who took a personal interest, and answer with promptness and pleasure. This may seem a trifle, but to gain an influence anywhere trifles must be considered, and are often all-important. My inward exclamation was, immediately, “Here is one who has been accustomed to dealing with men, and knows how to reach them.” A few well-chosen questions will often go further, and be of more benefit, than a long sermon. As you have expressed some interest in L----, you will forgive me for repeating a conversation to which this visit gave rise. A little later, I returned for some purpose to his bedside. “That’s a nice man you brought here; what was it you called him?”