I took counsel with the soul of an English officer who died in leading a charge. His death was quick and painless. A shot through the heart and he found himself--after a period of unconsciousness--still, as he supposed, leading a charge. But there was no enemy before him, nothing but the tranquil fields above the tumult; for so great was his exaltation of spirit--he had died with the thought of his Love in his heart--that he had gone up and up to the region where Love may have room. Seeing nothing before him he paused, looked round and saw me. “Brother,” I said, “you have left the war behind you.” He understood. Those who have lived for weeks in the tents of Death are not slow in recognizing Death when he lifts the curtain. “And what of the charge?” he asked eagerly. “Was the charge won?” “Yes,” I replied, “the force of your spirit won it.” “Then all is well,” was his answer. “Rest a little,” I said. “Rest and talk with me.” “Have we met before?” he asked. “For your face is familiar to me.” “My face is familiar to many on the battlefields,” I said. “When did you come----out here?” “Three years ago.” “Then you can teach me much.” “Perhaps I can teach you something. What do you want to know?” “I would know how to comfort one to whom my death will bring great grief.” “Where is she?” I asked. He named the place. “Then come,” I said, “I will go with you.” We found a beautiful woman in a little room in England, a little room which contained a little bed. And in the bed was a boy four or five years old. We could hear the voices of the mother and child as they talked together. “And when will father come home?” the little one asked. “I do not know,” said the mother. “Father _will_ come home, won’t he? Are you sure that he will come home?” “I pray that he comes home soon,” was all the mother said. The eyes of children, as they pass into the twilight world, the world between waking and sleeping, are sometimes very clear. “Why, father has come home!” the child cried, and he stretched out his arms to the father with a glad cry. And the mother knew and was very still. But her grief was softened by knowing that he whom she loved had come home and that her child had seen him. I think he will remain with her until she can join him here. The delay will not retard the progress of his soul. Love is the fulfilling of the law. There is time in eternity for love and the delays of love. In love a thousand years are as one day. _March 29._ LETTER XI MANY TONGUES LEARN languages. My work in this war has been hampered by my knowing so little of German. With the souls of those long here I can hold converse by pure thought; but the souls of the newly-come speak the language they spoke on earth and often that language is but a _patois_. That is one reason why I have had best success among the English armies.