Thus far we have but considered one end of the action. Let us therefore transfer ourselves to the other end, namely the thresholds of the homes of the members. Here scenes occurred the memory and influence of which will never be forgotten. What a feeling of gloom and of sadness settled upon that household after the notifying officer had hurried up the steps, rang violently the door-bell and notified him, who was both a member of the family and a member of the National Guard, to report for duty at the armory. We may now talk lightly of the things we have done. We may now laugh heartily over the experiences of those campaigns. The public may sneer at the results which we have accomplished, but who could say on the night we were called out that the duty which we were ordered to perform was not such that we had no assurance of ever returning again to the bosom of our families. Is there a man who would speak lightly of the tear that glistened in the mother’s eye or the quivering of her lips? Who is there that would ridicule the sobbing of the sisters and of the wives, or sneer at the deep, heartfelt emotion of the father hidden beneath a gruff voice. Shame on him who has for these no thought but scorn! “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” the poet sings. Until the night of the 3d few of us however recognized this truth. Parting is sorrow, but ah! how sweet it is to know something of that great affection with which we are held. Thank God there come such times as these when the mist of humdrum life is lifted and we behold our position in the hearts of our family. Many of us still remember how, while in our boyhood days, our souls used to thrill and how inspired we were when we read that after the battle of Lexington, old Israel Putnam left his plow yoked in the fields, mounted his fastest horse, hurried to Boston and offered his services to his country. But when we left those happy days behind us and went out into the cold, prosaic, and selfish world, and thought of Putnam’s noble and inspiring patriotism, a feeling of regret would arise within us to feel that there were no more Putnams. But during the late excitement we were undeceived. Right here among us we have such patriots. Patriots whose example ought to inspire and thrill every citizen. Like Old Putnam, they also paused in the midst of their toil and, without waiting to be notified, hastened to offer their services to their State. Would that the grave could open up, so that Old Putnam might rest contented in the belief that the destinies of this Republic are presided over by young patriots worthy of their revolutionary sires.