chaplain, during the absence from his post of a friend. And thus engaged, through the heats of last summer, month in, month out, without one day's rest or intermission, did our humane and heroic brother labor on, with resistless energy, till he fell, fainting and fever-struck, in the midst of the wide harvest-field of charity, waiting for the husbandman to garner.

"A few days before he was called 'to come up higher,' he said to a fellow-laborer: 'I almost wish I was up yonder, to help our poor boys who are putting off mortality and seeking a soldier's rest in heaven. I should so rejoice to welcome them there.' The wish was very characteristic, — expressive at once of his glowing faith in the nearness of the spirit-world to earth, and the closeness of angelic ministries to man, and also of his generous disinterestedness. The prayer was heard, and he was promoted to higher services. He had fought a good fight, and won a crown, as a hero of humanity.

"Personally I never knew our friend till I met him in Washington; but I had often heard of him as extravagant in enthusiasm, and erratic through divergent tendencies. Like many richly endowed men, James Richardson had probably never found his true sphere till the scenes of suffering and sacrifice called his varied powers into action, and concentrated their influence into one glowing focus of good-will for the soldiers of freedom. Here was a bond of unity that gave harmony to otherwise discordant tastes. He could here be spiritualist and physiologist, architect and musician, good neighbor and preacher, reformer and man of business, all at once. The result was charming, in a rare blending of almost feminine sweetness with courageous energy, of poetic ardor with practical skill, of patient fidelity in minutest detail with a lovingkindness wide as the horizon, and hope high as the heavens. Moving swiftly and noiselessly to and fro, with his soft yet luminous blue eyes seeing all, penetrating all around him at a glance, courteous and graceful in manner, while dauntless in sincerity, in speech and deed, he suggested the thought of one ready to be translated from the struggles of earth to the blessed fellowship of guardian angels."

The manner of his departure seemed in harmony, not alone with the self-devotion of his life, but with the peculiar nervous quality which had always marked it. His wife, who was with him in Washington for some months before his death, says

that, on November 3d, he was seized with a chill in dressing, but went out and attended to his duties as usual. In the evening he had another chill, followed by violent pains in the chest, which proved to be pneumonia. For several days he suffered extremely, but was afterwards more free from pain, though very weak. His mind was entirely occupied with his duties; and, in defiance of the advice of physicians and friends, he gave daily directions, and had reports brought to him. His nights were very restless; he was constantly talking in his sleep, and always on the one subject of his work, reiterating directions for the kind treatment of the soldiers. He had at that time the supervision of one of the Sanitary Commission "lodges" at Alexandria, Virginia, and of another at the Alexandria Railway Station in Washington, and had been quite annoyed by the difficulty of inducing the employees to treat the soldiers with proper consideration. This trouble seemed ever present with him; and while giving, in his dreams, directions for feeding the men, he would break out with the exclamation, "You must speak kindly to them."

On the morning of November 7th he thought himself better, and planned new work; in the afternoon he found himself weaker again, and said, that night, that he should never get well. A consultation of physicians was held, who thought that there was no cause for serious apprehension, if he would only give up all thoughts of labor, which he promised to do. He adhered to his original conviction, however, and made all his final arrangements. On the morning of November 10th he was seized with a violent chill, and after it had passed sank into a stupor, and passed away in such quietness that it could scarcely be known when his breathing ceased. It seemed as if his delicate organization, taxed to the utmost, had at last stopped its vital motion without struggle, — in such a death as he would have always predicted for himself, and such a death as he would have wished to die.

1841.

CHARLES FRANCIS SIMMONS.

First Lieutenant and Adjutant 14th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), July 15, 1861; discharged, on resignation, January 24, 1862; lost at sea, February, 1862, on a voyage to Cuba, undertaken on account of a fatal disease of the lungs contracted in the service.

T the Freshman examination of Harvard University, in

At the Freshman examination of observed, among my fu AT 1837, I will remember to have observed, among my

ture classmates, a tall, erect young man, of demure aspect and rather sedate motions, with blue eyes and closely curling fair hair, who was pointed out by some one as Charles Simmons, with the prediction that he would be our first scholar. He came with an intellectual prestige, based less upon his own abilities than upon those of his two elder brothers, both of whom had been accounted remarkable for gifts and culture. Such a reputation is often rather discouraging to a younger brother, if it demands from him a career in any degree alien to his temperament. Perhaps it was so with Simmons. Hel certainly seemed rather to shrink from the path of college ambition than to pursue it; and his academical career, though respectable, was never brilliant.

He was the youngest son of William and Lucia (Hammatt) Simmons, and was born January 27, 1821. His mother was a native of Plymouth, Massachusetts; his father was also born in Plymouth County, and was for many years one of the Justices of the Police Court in Boston. Charles was fitted for college partly at the Boston Latin School, and partly by his brother, Rev. George Frederick Simmons.

In college I had never much personal acquaintance with him, but vividly remember the implied contrast of his grave manners and fastidious air with the witty sayings and mirthful feats attributed to him by his few intimates. This partial antagonism had indeed a peculiar zest for the whole class, when exhibited in his public declamations, which were rather

noted among us; since he usually selected some serio-comic passage, which was recited with the gravest face and the most irresistible humor.

He was shy, sensitive, proud, and reticent. But he was exceedingly faithful to his friends, and to his avowed principles, manifesting in this way a sort of chivalrous spirit, which indeed brought upon him his only serious college censure. In some undergraduate disaffection, in our Senior year, he stepped forward to take a conspicuous position, from which the other leaders shrank, and he was deprived of his degree in consequence. It was bestowed upon him fourteen years after, on the earnest petition of his classmates.

He afterwards studied law with David A. Simmons, Esq., a relative, and was admitted to the Suffolk bar. For the rest of his life he had an office in Boston, with a moderate chamber practice. But apparently the same qualities which had impaired his collegiate success followed him into professional life also. Over-sensitiveness, ill health, and perhaps some want of resolute purpose, always kept him back, while other men more fortunately constituted won an easy success.

He remained unmarried, and rather shunned general society as well as public affairs. Yet he had excellent judgment in practical matters, and held decided views on the questions of the day; having become, for instance, strongly anti-slavery in his convictions. But he seemed by temperament a scholar and a critic rather than a man of affairs. He was especially a student of the natural sciences; had much knowledge of music, and a rare taste in all matters of art. His love of nature grew with his years; and his chief pleasures, beyond books and music, were found in country life, among "God's fresh creations," as he himself said. Never demonstrative in manner, he became less so as he grew older, and to strangers seemed cold and uninterested. He was reserved even with his intimates; and it was, as I am assured, a matter of surprise to his nearest friends when they heard of his enlistment, through his own letters from Fort Warren.

The attack on our troops in Baltimore had, indeed, seemed

to excite him very much. He had described hearing the departure of the regiments from Boston, in the middle of the night, two days after; was very much impressed by it, and he said then that, if he had not from boyhood "despised soldiering,” — and so did not know the use of a gun, - he should have gone off with some of the three-months men. So he joined two different classes in Boston, for the purpose of drilling, and said that when he knew enough he should go. But he went at last very suddenly, in July, without having time to arrange his business affairs; for Colonel William B. Greene, who had been his friend for several years, came home from Paris to take part in the war, and, finding this recruit ready, made him his Adjutant at once in the Fourteenth Massachusetts.

His letters describe his interview with Colonel Greene, and his enlistment.

FORT WARREN, July 26, 1861. "Then the first day I saw him,—the day he landed,— I told him I would go into the service myself, under him. Two days after he sent to me to know if I was serious' in what I had said. And the result was that he took me, green as I was; and says, after four weeks' trial, that he does not repent of his choice, and that he thought he could make a soldier of me then, and is sure of it now. So I am entirely satisfied. And if I should come to grief, be assured it will be with a light conscience; for I have no one dependent upon me, and have not been troubled with any conflict of duties." In the same letter he thus speaks of the soldiers :—

“Our regiment,' the Fourteenth Massachusetts, or 'Essex,' has as good material as ever marched out of the old Commonwealth. All from Essex County. Stalwart, sober men, all of them. Whether we succeed in drilling them to form squares, direct and oblique, or not, during the short ten days we have left, I will warrant every company of them to make face against cavalry, even in line, before turning their backs and taking to the woods. If they allow themselves to be cut up,' without killing man for man, call me no prophet."

The change in his mode of life seemed to transform his whole nature. This shy, contemplative, lonely, middle-aged