door.

A resounding bell-peal was heard, and one of those gatherings ensued which Helen had so deprecated. What a perfect hail-storm of "sisters" flew about! It was, "How do you do, Sister Meigs?" "How's your health, Sister Beecher ?" "Glad to see you, Sister Stun" (Stone). "Sister Franklin, let me make you acquainted with Sister Stun, from Checkerville, Sister Meigs's niece." "You here, Sister Bowen! -well, I am pleased. And how's Brother Bowen and the children ?" "Sister Bowen," of course, responds with cordiality, while Fanny Franklin, helping the ladies take off their things in the best bedroom, wonders why people will so pronounce the pastoral name.

The company was presently distributed among the various comfortable seats of the parlor. Sister Meigs was an elderly dame of the plainest type of speech and person; she wore an aged satin levantine and no hoops, and knitted away vigorously with a sheath pinned to her waist. Sister Stone, who was young and pretty, shone in a neat checked silk and sundry bright-hued ribbons of a surety not recommended in "the discipline," but highly becoming nevertheless. Sister Beecher and the hostess were nice-looking middle-aged women; with the rotund form and pleasant smile of our dear Sister Bowen we are already familiar.

What an amount of talking five women can accomplish between two o'clock and tea-time! How many subjects are brought up, canvassed, and dismissed; what traits of character are exhibited, how fully human nature is displayed! The present company had at least a thousand themes of converse. Some were denominational, as the meeting of Conference and the appointment of Presidin' Elder; the "location" of various preachers; how Father Graves was about to "superannooate," and Brother Lloyd was on station;" when camp-meeting would be held, and so on. There was farm-talk and dairy-talk, neighborhood-news and village-news. Mrs. Bowen by-and-by brought up, as she had all the time intended, the case of Mrs. Sayres; she spoke of the ill-health she knew about and the lack of comfort she suspected.

a

"Sister Sayres would get along a great deal better if she hadn't so much ambition," remarked Mrs. Franklin. "She hurts herself working when she ain't fit for it."

and Sister Sayres can't bear to keep her out. She wants her to do what she can toward getting an education now, for by-and-by she may not have the chance." And every one agreed that this was well.

"What a shame that her husband drinks and goes on so!" exclaimed Sister Beecher. "He might get good wages and make his family comfortable."

"Never did amount to nothing!" spoke up Sister Meigs from behind her knitting-sheath. "A poor, shif'less stick he always was, even before he took to drink!"

"And yet there must be something good about him," said Mrs. Bowen. "She thinks a deal of him, even yet; and she told me once what a mercy it was that nothing he took ever made him cross, as it does some. He's always kind and pleasant with the children; they're fond of him, though they can't help seeing what the trouble is. And even now he has times of being sorry and promising that he'll reform." "And I suppose she believes him," said Mrs. Beecher, scornfully.

"Well, she would naturally wish to, you know."

"That's it," said Sister Beecher. "She's been too easy! A regular up-and-down woman that wouldn't stand being abused would have had a great deal better chance with him."

"I don't know," replied Mrs. Bowen. "Long habit is a powerful thing. I'm afraid nothing but grace can reach it. Somehow I never can help hoping that his time will come; "he is so respectable-looking when he's sober, and has such a pleasant way with him. I feel so sorry and ashamed sometimes when we meet and I see what ails him. At any rate, whatever he is, we know that Sister Sayres is worthy; and I'm afraid she's very much in need of comforts." There was a pause.

"We killed a veal yesterday," said Mrs. Franklin, breaking in upon it. "I'll take her over a nice piece to-morrow. Those was good cutlets, didn't you think, Sister Bowen?" That lady acquiesced. "Yes, I'll take her a bitand a roll or so from my last churning—and a bowl of currant jelly, too, I guess. It'll make her a good drink if she's feverish."

"I could let her have some pork just as well as not," said Miss Beecher, in a relenting tone; "But you "but then I dare say she's got plenty."

"Perhaps so," said Mrs. Bowen. know how hard it is to keep quiet when there's every thing to be done."

"It's dret-ful!" exclaimed Sister Beecher. "There ain't no such trial in this world as to lie by and see hired help a-slammin' round and wastin' every thing."

"Sister Sayres doesn't have much of that sort of trial," said Mrs. Bowen, half smiling. "Whatever there is, she must do it or it goes undone."

"I should think her Juley Ann was big enough to help some," observed Mrs. Franklin.

"She does all she can, poor child; but there's school, and a mile and a half to walk each way,

"Good pork will keep, you know," said Mrs. Bowen ; "and yours is always so sweet and solid," she added, with a touch of serpent wisdom.

"Well, I don't care if I take her half a dozen pounds or so; and maybe she'd like a little cheese. I cut one a day or two ago, and Mr. Beecher said it was about the best he ever ate." Sister Meigs promised a quantity of dried apples and some maple sirup, while Sister Stone took a gold dollar from a pretty pearl portemonnaie and asked the pastor's wife to expend it in some little matter for the invalid-whatever she thought best. Our friend's heart "sung for joy" at the success of her appeal.

"You don't say so!" exclaimed the farmer, taken aback. And then recovering himself, "Oh! you mean you never had that much in cash; but ministers get such sights of presents."

A more audible singing soon succeeded. Fan- smiling. "How much do you suppose my inny Franklin had but just "graduated" from the come amounts to in a year, Brother Franklin ?" Conference Seminary, where she was supposed "Well, I couldn't just say-you get a good to have acquired an untold stock of accomplish- deal in kind, of course ?" ments, music among the rest. Her piano, a "I can tell you then. Since I entered the real Chickering, which had cost Brother Frank- ministry, fourteen years ago, I never have relin nobody knew how many hundreds, stood in-ceived four hundred dollars any year." vitingly open, and she was urged to give the company a tune. She played a Quickstep or two; then, being asked for a song, performed the Irish Emigrant's Lament and the Blue Juniata with great applause. This inspired her to go through the Bridge of Sighs, a favorite of her own, though considered by her mother "most too solemn." It was received in ominous silence, broken at last by Sister Meigs, who recounted how she had once known a child drowned in a tub of bluing water which its mother had neglected to empty when the washing was over. Whereupon the young musician, more amused than she ought to have been by a circumstance so tragic, made her escape to the kitchen to oversee the tea-arrangements.

Soon after she left Mr. Bowen and his host came in. They had gone leisurely over the farm, admiring the luxuriant growth of timothy, almost ready for the scythe, and the waving promise of wheat and oats; strolling through the well-timbered wood-lot, or viewing the sleek cattle who chewed the cud placidly beneath the shade and turned a mild, observant eye on the intruders. Coming home they paused in the orchard, and the owner pointed out his favorite trees laden with choice fruit.

"This is nice!" said the minister, with enthusiasm, as he took in the many evidences of thrift and plenty around him; "this is what I call nice! The Lord has prospered you, Brother Franklin."

"Well-yes," admitted his friend, with a little seeming reluctance. "But I work for it, I tell you! I work for it! You ministers live easy; you don't know much about what 'tis to carry on a farm."

"We have our own labors, which we sometimes think severe. But you find your work pays, don't you?"

"Why, I suppose it does; but nothing nigh what you'd imagine. There's hired help-and fences-and a hundred other things. And then the taxes! Taxes do eat up a farm these days. I get 'most sick of it sometimes."

"Now, to me," said Mr. Bowen, "this place looks the very picture of comfort and abundance."

"I dare say. You just see the outside, and that's pleasant enough. But I'd be glad to swap with you, Brother Bowen, I would indeed."

"You think so?" said the minister, with a curious smile. It was not the first time by many that he had heard a thriving parishioner "talk poor."

"Yes, I would. You haven't such a great deal round you; but then you've the less to see to; you know what you've got, and can live on it snug and comfortable."

"Pretty snug, to be sure," said the minister,

"No, no," replied Mr. Bowen; "I mean that I never, reckoning every thing at its full market value, received the worth of four hundred dollars any year since I began to preach."

Mr. Franklin looked puzzled. "Why, how do you manage it?" he asked. "There's eight of you altogether." "To be sure.

And I hope there'll never be

any less, please God."
"The truth is, I don't see how you make out
a living," admitted the farmer, frankly.

"Well, I hardly see, myself. We never could if I hadn't been blessed with such a helpmeet. Mrs. Bowen will make sixpence do the work of a shilling any day. One thing we're both agreed upon; the children must have an education whatever we do without. We've managed so far; but you can see it hasn't been done without denying ourselves a great many things that it's pleasant to have. What we shall do as our expenses grow larger I can't just tell; but I don't borrow trouble. The Lord will provide, as He always has done;" and the minister's blue eyes glowed with new cheerfulness. "I don't commonly make a practice of talking over my affairs," he added, with a laugh, "but you seemed to think I was in such very affluent circumstances that I was tempted to state the facts."

Mr. Franklin remained quite thoughtful for some time after these disclosures, and he piled the minister's plate at tea-time with every good thing upon the table; whether they produced any more permanent result I can not say. But what would Helen's astonishment have been could she have heard them! She had denied herself a ribbon or a jewel often for the sake of others; indeed in the gay circles of the city where much of her time was spent she had been accustomed to feel that her attire was plain. Yet there was never a year when her personal expenses did not reach a larger sum than served this family of eight for their entire maintenance.

Soon after tea the company dispersed; Helen saw the pastor and his wife drive homeward through the rosy twilight. Her own day had been pleasant and not devoid of profit. She had taken a long ride over the hills-she had read and digested a good portion of a valuable work

she had given liberally to a deserving object. But she did not guess as she watched the two stout figures fade into the distance that the reality of many of her fairest dreams was passing in that humble guise; that the Faith, the Hope, the Charity, to which she longingly aspired were that day, and every day, made manifest in such prosaic lives.

TH

RECOLLECTIONS OF GRANT.

HE clearest conception of the characters | so dramatic a picture as Sherman, nor does he of Generals Sherman and Thomas is ob- present so dignified an appearance as Thomas; tained by contrasting them. A correct estimate yet he combines in himself the originality and of General Grant may be had by forming in energy of the first with the deliberation, coolthe imagination a character combining the pe- ness, and pertinacity of the latter. He has SherI culiarities of both Sherman and Thomas; for man's originality of mind, and like him has given in the person of the Lieutenant-General the expression to several new and striking thoughts very opposite qualities which distinguish the upon the subject of the rebellion and its supothers meet and combine with singular grace pression, but they have invariably been clothed and felicity, forming one of the noblest charac- in the full, rounded, and stately periods of ters which the war has developed. General Thomas rather than the sharp, curt, and nervGrant does not make so effective or, so to speak, ous language of Sherman. He has planned sev

eral campaigns with not less of originality than combinations against Richmond are full of that displayed by Sherman, but they have al- fine strategic marches and manœuvres. The ways been executed with the deliberation and flank movement around Spottsylvania Court persistence which is so prominent a characteristic House, and the march upon Petersburg, accomof Thomas. Sherman has given us several splen- plished in the face of the enemy, are not less did illustrations of Strategy and Logistics; as brilliant than that of Vicksburg; while the dewitness his marches in Mississippi, Georgia, and feat, pursuit, and capture of Lee, are by far the the Carolinas; but his battles will never be most brilliant operations known to the history quoted as brilliant examples of Grand Tactics. of modern warfare. General Grant's marches, Thomas has displayed his abilities chiefly in the closely resemble in their general outlines those tactics of the battle-field, and has given us at of Sherman. They are executed with all the Mill Spring and Nashville two splendid illustra- energy and certainly as much of the skill as tions of the offensive, and at Chickamauga a those of Sherman, but on a larger scale, with magnificent example of defensive battle; but his larger forces, and in the face of greater natural marches, which are always slow and labored, are obstacles. In none of Sherman's operations has never likely to become famous. Grant has ex- he made the passage of such streams as the Miscelled in both these important branches of the sissippi or James rivers. The mountains of art of war, and has given us brilliant examples Georgia furnish no more difficult passes than of each; and though he has shown no extraor- those of Virginia. The marches of Sherman in dinary engineering ability in constructing de- Georgia and South Carolina are wonderful and fenses he has done better in reducing those of brilliant, but they were made in the face of an the rebels. He uses the strategy of Sherman to enemy totally inadequate to cope with him. reach his chosen battle-field, and then employs Those of Grant in Mississippi, Tennessee, and the grand tactics of Thomas to win the victory. Virginia, are not the less wonderful because His own definition of strategy will perhaps make made in the face of a strong, watchful enemy, this idea plainer to the reader, who will not ob- who in Virginia, at least, had an admirably ject that it comes in the "questionable shape" mobilized army, and because accompanied by of a hitherto unpublished anecdote of the Gen-weeks of hard contested encounters. eral.

Shortly after the battles of Chattanooga, General Grant was sitting in his head-quarters at Nashville, with his feet comfortably stretched before the fire, while he enjoyed himself with puffing and chewing his cigar with that completeness of repose which strangers to his habits have called a dullness of facial expression. Quarter-master-General Meigs sat near him, while General W. F. Smith, who had but a short time before made himself quite a reputation with Grant, by the skillful operations in Lookout Valley in October, 1863, paced the floor apparently absorbed in thought. Meigs noticing this, broke the silence which had lasted for several minutes by asking:

"What are you thinking about, 'Baldy ?'" On receiving no reply from the absorbed officer, he turned to Grant and remarked, with a laugh:

"Baldy' is studying strategy."

Grant removed his cigar from his lips and said, with a serious air; "I don't believe in strategy in the popular understanding of the term. I use it to get up just as close to the enemy as practicable with as little loss as possible." "And what then?" asked Meigs.

"Then? Up, Guards, and at 'em!"" replied the General, with more than usual spirit; then again lapsing into his accustomed taciturnity.

Grant bas "crept" upon the enemy in this war on several occasions to some purpose, and with an effect which proves that his strategy is of a superior order. His strategic march to the rear of Vicksburg is already accepted as an illustration of the art of war, and not many years will elapse before it will be quoted as such in the military academies of the country. The

The numerous battles of Grant are the most important and the most successful of the war. From his first victory at Fort Donelson, through Shiloh, Corinth and Iuka, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga, to the battles before Richmond, and the surrender of Lee, he has been almost uniformly successful, and his victories have been more complete, and productive of more substantial fruits, than those of any other commander. As his Strategy is that of Sherman on a larger scale, so his Grand Tactics are those of Thomas on more extensive fields. The movements and the manoeuvres of the two men are the same. The movements are always deliberate and heavy; the manœuvres are always executed by massed columns formed in deep lines. Grant, like Thomas, appears to decide in his own mind the key-point of the enemy's position, and to direct his assaults to the ultimate possession of that point. He devotes every energy, and, when it is necessary, every life, to the attainment of this success, knowing that this ends the conflict. When it is gained, as at Chattanooga and during the engagements of April 2 before Petersburg, the battle is won. If he fails to reach this key of the field, as in the first assault at Vicksburg and at the Wilderness, he is beaten. If he wins the point and the victory, he immediately pursues the retreating foe, as at Chattanooga and Petersburg. But if he fails, he does not abandon the field. His mind is too rich in resources for retreat. Ceasing to be Thomas he becomes Sherman again, and has recourse to Strategy, whereby he forces the enemy to a field where his Grand Tactics will stand a better chance of success. A critical examination of Grant's campaigns will reveal these features fully developed. He fully com

prehends the specialty of Sherman, Strategy, as well as that of Thomas, Grand Tactics, and is master of both. He has displayed in his campaigns, all of which have been of mixed operations, all the persistence and pertinacity of Thomas combined with the originality of design and resources of mind of Sherman. But in none of his campaigns have these peculiarities been better or more brilliantly illustrated than in the campaign and battles of Chattanooga, and the not less wonderful campaign around Richmond. The first is an example of his Tactics; the latter of his Strategy.

should. This assault, which was made on the 25th, and was the closing scene of the battles, has been erroneously called one of those "blind uncertain strikings which won the Alma and Magenta," when in reality Grant had determined upon it six days before it was executed, and spent two entire days in watching from the very front of the line for the moment at which to attempt it. The entire three days' engagement is remarkable for the consistency with which the plan was followed out. General Halleck pronounced the battle to be the "most remarkable in history," and Meigs called it the The operations of Hooker and W. F. Smith in "best directed battle of the war." Never have Lookout Valley, which were a part of the Chat- operations in war better illustrated the vast adtanooga campaign, and which resulted in raising vantages of the offensive. From the moment the siege of that stronghold by opening river com- that he was compelled to abandon his attempts munication with the base of supplies, was not less at an orderly retreat and evacuation of his posioriginal in conception or bold and brilliant in tion, the enemy's movements were forced upon execution than the famous march around Vicks- him, and his army was really controlled and burg. Bragg was compelled to abandon all commanded by Grant. Every movement made hope of starving out the garrison or capturing by the enemy may be said to have been ordered Chattanooga, and he determined to attempt the by Grant. Bragg, in command of the rebel army, seizure of Knoxville with a portion of his army was merely his mouth-piece. The plan of the under Longstreet while he kept up a show of battle contemplated the breaking of the enemy's besieging Chattanooga with the remainder. It centre; but this was so strongly posted on a was this movement which gave Grant the op- mountain ridge almost inaccessible, that, in orportunity for the display of his tactical abilities. der to render success possible, it was necessary Burnside, in advising Grant of Longstreet's ap- to force him to weaken his forces holding the proach to attack him, reported that he (Burn- centre. This was accomplished after two days' side) held a line on the Tennessee River, from labor by the attacks upon either flank of the Loudon to Kingston, possessing unusual natural rebel line by Hooker and Sherman, and was no advantages, and expressed the opinion that he sooner made than perceived by Grant, who incould easily defeat Longstreet in any attempt stantly ordered the assault of the centre, which he might make to cross the stream. Grant resulted in the victory and the capture of several immediately ordered Burnside to make no de- thousand prisoners and sixty pieces of artillery. fense of the line which he held, but to fall back To complete the success of the operations, Burnto Knoxville and stand a siege, promising to re-side about the same time defeated Longstreet at lieve him in a few days. The result of this Knoxville (Fort Saunders), and Sherman apwas that Longstreet was deluded into crossing proaching to the relief of the besieged, the rebels the Tennessee, and thus placed himself far be- abandoned the siege and retreated to Virginia, yond supporting distance of Bragg. Grant's rejoining Lee soon after at Fredericksburg. strategy had thus far resulted in dividing the rebel army into two. He immediately went to work to defeat the parts in detail.

In conception, execution, and result the late operations to the rear of Richmond must be considered by far the most remarkable and brilliant movements of the war. There is every evidence, already made public at this writing, necessary to show that the campaign, as deliberately

Bragg learning of the approach of Sherman to Grant's aid attempted, on November 23, 1863, to evacuate his strong position before Chattanooga, and retire for safety beyond the mount-planned, was energetically carried out. The ains. Grant, unwilling to let him off so cheaply, battles of April 1st and 2d, south of Petersburg, made a movement to detain him, and by com- were absolutely necessary to the solution of the mencing his proposed operations a day sooner strategic problem. The object was to gain a than originally intended he forced the rebel position on the right flank of Lee, in order to leader to remain in his rifle-pits and accept force him not only to evacuate Petersburg, but battle. Grant in no wise changed his plan as to compel him to evacuate it in such a way that determined upon four days before the operations he would have to retreat by roads on the north began, except that he commenced them twenty-side of the Appomattox River. By the success four hours sooner than intended. On the after- of this battle Lee was thus forced north of the noon of November 23d he did that which he had previously intended to do on the morning of the 24th. It was the movement of Granger's corps into a position from whence at the proper time it was to assault the rebel centre. In this position the corps was compelled to lic idle, and in waiting for the auspicious moment, for eighteen hours longer than it was originally intended it

river, and Grant gained a route to Burkesville Junction-the point to which Lee intended to retreat-running parallel with that of the rebels, separated from them a great part of the distance by a river, much shorter and without any natural obstructions such as lay in Lee's way. Lee had to retreat by the longer route, which was practically made still longer by the