19th.—The army is reorganized. Instead of the former divisions of only brigades, divisions and corps, it is now brigades, divisions, corps, and grand divisions, of which last there are three, General Sumner, at present, commanding the right, General Hooker the centre, and General Franklin the left. I wish I had more confidence in General Franklin, but I cannot forget his conduct at West Point, Virginia, nor at Centreville, where he failed to reinforce General Pope.
This is a dark and rainy night; and a little sad, and a good deal home-sick; I sit unattended, (except by my faithful “General,”[1]) reflecting, over my log fire, on the beauty of the opening stanza of the sixth canto of the “Lay of the Last Minstrel;” (what an expletive of possessives.) In my home-sickness, I have called up all my Bachelor acquaintances, and even above the patriotic reflections stands forth each one—
“The wretch concentered in himself.”
How intensely this stanza reflects my feelings to-night. I have not only a country but a home, and, oh, how often, and how deeply have I prayed for the presentation of integrity to each—
“Breathes there a man with soul go dead.
That never to himself hath said—
This is my home, my native land.”
[1] A black servant.
