e mighty
men, let all men of war draw near; let them come up. Beat your
ploughshares into swords, and your pruning-hooks into spears; let the
weak say, I am strong." I was not in the country myself at that time,
and my attention was first drawn to this in 1865 by a clergyman, who
told me of his startled astonishment upon opening the Book. In the
then public temper it must have thrilled every nerve among the
hearers, already strained to the uttermost by events without parallel
in the history of the nation.

Being on Dahlgren's staff gave me also the opportunity of seeing,
gathered together in social assembly, all the general officers who had
shared in the March to the Sea. This was at a reception given by
Sherman in Savannah, within a week after entering that city, which may
be considered the particular terminus of one stage in his progress
through the heart of the Confederacy. The admiral had gone thither in
a small steamer, which served as flag-ship, to greet the triumphant
chief. Few, if any, of the more conspicuous of Sherman's subordinates
were absent from the rooms, thronged with men whose names were then in
all mouths, and who in honor of the occasion had changed their
marching clothes for full uniform, rarely seen in campaign. From the
heads of the two armies, the union of which under him constituted his
force, down through the brigade commanders, all were there with their
staffs; and many besides. The tone of this gathering was more subdued
than at Fort Sumter, if equally exultant. Success, achievement, the
clear demonstration of victory, such as the occupation of Savannah
gave, uplifts men's hearts and swells their breasts; but these men had
worked off some of their heat in doing things. Besides, there yet
remained for them other and weighty things to do. It could be felt
sympathetically that with them the pervading sensation was
relaxation--repose. They had reached their present height by prolonged
labor and endurance, and were enjoying rather the momentary release
from strain than the intoxication of triumph.

In expectation of the victorious arrival of the army in Savannah, I
had been charged with two messages, in pathetic contrast with each
other. The first was from my father to Sherman himself, who twenty
years before had been under his teaching as a cadet at the Military
Academy. I cannot now recall whether I bore with me a letter of
congratulation which my father wrote him, and to which he pleasantly