Ennis soon brought me a spelling-book, given him by one of the men, and claimed my promise to teach him to read. Most faithfully he studied, but just as we were priding ourselves upon our progress, and he was triumphantly mastering the mysteries of “It is he,” “I am in,” the order came, and by a strange chance, Jackson and he were to go on to Washington together, to rejoin their different regiments. This I exceedingly regretted, as I looked upon Jackson as very far from a desirable companion or example for a young boy like Ennis. This feeling was confirmed, when, on the morning of their departure, Jackson came to bid me goodbye, with unsteady step and bloodshot eye. I spoke as I felt, strongly and sternly, as I could not but feel towards one so lately raised from the very gate of death, and thus requiting the Love and Mercy which had spared him. I know not, and it matters not what I said, but when I spoke of the fearful responsibility which would rest upon his soul, should he lead that child committed to his care into sin, he looked surprised and startled, and promised me, in the most solemn manner, that he should come to no evil through him. It would have eased my heart of a heavy load, could I have relied more implicitly upon that promise; but, after all, such feelings are but a want of Faith; because the visible guard was the last that I should have chosen for him. I forgot that that young boy went forth attended by a bright, unseen Guard, to guide and protect him through every step of his way. And so we parted. Weeks have formed themselves into months, and months have formed themselves into a year, but I have never heard of them, or even seen their names, and cannot tell whether they are numbered among the living or the dead. I can scarcely tell why it is, but there are no cases, in all the memories of hospital life, which stand out so clearly stereoscoped upon my brain, as the two of which I have just spoken. BROWNING. This morning, as I opened the door of the ladies’ room at the hospital, I found M., as usual, before me at her post busily working. She greeted me with “Mr. ---- (our chaplain) has just been in, to say that Browning is to be baptized this morning, and he would like us to be present; so we shall have to be prompt with our work.” This Browning was a striking instance of the mercy and long-suffering of our dear Lord and Master. After a wholly irreligious life, he had entered the army, (though quite advanced in years,) at the breaking out of the rebellion, where, instead of being struck down by a bullet, a long and suffering illness in the hospital had been graciously granted to him; it had borne its fruit, and this day, the brow furrowed by sin, and the hair whitened in the service of another master, are to be moistened by baptismal waters.