CHAPTER XXVII.

A LESSON IN CHARITY.

An incident of the war in which a gentle Sister of Charity and a stern milltary commander played the leading parts. "What do you do with your beggings?" The Red River campaign and its fatal results. The general in the hospital. "Did you get the ice and beef?" A grateful patient and his appreciation of the real worth of the Sisters.

"During the late war, and when General S. was in command of the department at New Orleans, the Sisters of Charity made frequent applications to him for assistance. (1). Especially were they desir ous to obtain supplies at what was termed 'commissary prices;' that is, at a reduction or commutation of one-third the amount which the same provisions would cost at market

rates. The principal demand was for ice, flour, beef and coffee, but mainly ice, a luxury which only the Union forces could enjoy at anything like a reasonable price. The hos pitals were full of the sick and wounded of both the Federal and Confederate armies, and the benevolent institutions of the city were taxed to the utmost in their endeav. ors to aid the poor and the suffering, for those were trying

(1). This interesting narrative was originally published in “The Philadelphia Times" and afterwards in Father Corby's "Memories of Chaplain life."

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times, and war has many victims. Foremost among these Christian workers stood the various Christian Sisterhoods. These noble women were busy day and night, never seeming to know fatigue, and overcoming every obstacle that, in so many discouraging forms, obstructed the way of doing good-obstacles which would have completely disheartened less resolute women, or those not trained in the school of patience, faith, hope and charity, and where the first grand lesson learned is self-denial. Of money there was little, and food, fuel and medicine were scarce and dear; yet they never faltered, going on in the face of all difficulties, through poverty, war and unfriendly aspersions, never turning aside,never complaining,never despairing. No one will ever know the sublime courage of these lordly Sisters during the dark days of the Rebellion. Only in that hour when the Judge of all mankind shall summon before Him the living and the dead will they receive their true reward, the crown everlasting, and the benediction: Well done, good and faithful servant.'

"It was just a week previous to the Red River campaign, when all was hurry and activity throughout the Department of the Gulf, that General S., a stern, irascible old officer of the regular army, sat at his desk in his office on Julia street, curtly giving orders to subordinates, dis patching messengers hither and thither to every part of the city where troops were stationed, and stiffly receiving such of his command as had important business to transact.

"In the midst of this unusual burry and preparation the door noiselessly opened, and a humble Sister of Charity entered the room. A handsome young lieutenant of the staff instantly arose and deferentially handed her a chair,

for those sombre gray garments were respected, if not understood, even though he had no reverence for the religious faith which they represented,

"General S. looked up from his writing, angered by the intrusion of one whose fanaticism' he despised, and a frown of annoyance and displeasure gathered darkly on his brow.

"Orderly!"

"The soldier on duty without the door, who had ad mitted the Sister, faced about, saluted and stood mute, awaiting the further command of his chief.

"Did I not give orders that no one was to be admitted?"

"Yes, sir; but-"

"When I say no one, I mean no one,' thundered the General.

"The orderly bowed and returned to his post. He was too wise a soldier to enter into explanation with so irrit able a superior. All this time the patient Sister sat calm and still, biding the moment when she might speak and meekly state the object of her mission. The General gave her the opportunity in the briefest manner possible, and sharply enough, too, in all conscience.

"Well, madam?'

"She raised a pair of sad, dark eyes to his face, andthe gaze was so pure, so saintly, so full of silent pleading, that the rough old soldier was touched in spite of himself. Around her fell the heavy muffling dress of her order, which, however coarse and ungraceful, had something strangely solemn and mournful about it. Her hands, small and fair, were clasped almost suppliantly, and half-hidden in the loose sleeves, as if afraid of their own trembling