Be not resigned, but rejoicing. Be
spontaneous and exultant. Be large and lofty. Count it all joy that
you are reckoned worthy to suffer in a grand and righteous cause. Give
thanks evermore that you were born in this time; and _because_ it is
dark, be you the light of the world.
And follow the soldier to the battlefield with your spirit. The great
army of letters that marches Southward with every morning sun is
a powerful engine of war. Fill them with tears and sighs, lament
separation and suffering, dwell on your loneliness and fears, mourn over
the dishonesty of contractors and the incompetency of leaders, doubt if
the South will ever be conquered, and foresee financial ruin, and you
will damp the powder and dull the swords that ought to deal death upon
the foe. Write as tenderly as you will. In camp, the roughest man
idealizes his far-off home, and every word of love uplifts him to a
lover. But let your tenderness unfold its sunny side, and keep the
shadows for His pity who knows the end from the beginning, and whom no
foreboding can dishearten. Glory in your tribulation. Show your soldier
that his unflinching courage, his undying fortitude, are your crown of
rejoicing. Incite him to enthusiasm by your inspiration. Make a mock of
your discomforts. Be unwearying in details of the little interests of
home. Fill your letters with kittens and Canaries, with baby's shoes,
and Johnny's sled, and the old cloak which you have turned into a
handsome gown.
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