Fast-day, March 10.— Went to the Presbyterian Church with Dr. Reessc, and was well pleased with the discourse. The church was the dirtiest I have ever been in; I was shocked to see a house dedicated to the worship of God in such a state. I am told that the rector, Dr. Patterson, has a day-school in it, as his school-house was last year taken for a hospital, and has since been burned. I miss greatly in this place “the sound of the church-going bell.” On making inquiries, I was informed that all the bells had been taken to make cannon. Griffin is a nice little place, but not so pretty as Newnan. It is in Pike County, Georgia, on the Macon and Western Railroad, fifty-eight miles north-west of Macon. It is said to be very healthy, and is noted for its excellent water.
The day is bitter cold, and wood is scarce. I thought it bad enough to have so little to eat; but we have no candles or light of any kind, not even light wood. I am compelled to retire at dark, which is a severe trial, as the days are short. I do not believe that even Mark Tapley could be “jolly” under these circumstances. The only consolation I have is comparing my lot with that of the men in the field— I know they are so much worse off.
