May 26.—This morning I visited Mrs. Williamson and Mrs. Crocker, who came from Mobile with us. They are in a hospital at the Corinth House. I saw a Mrs. Newsom. I do not recollect that I was ever more struck with a face at first sight than hers. It expressed more purity and goodness than I had ever seen before, and reminded me of a description of one I had seen in a poem. It was
“A face whose every feature telleth
How light they feel this earthly clod;
A face whose holy beauty showeth
Their walk is ever close with God.”
As I looked upon her, I felt that the verse connected would not be misapplied to her heart:
“A heart that is a casket holy,
With brightest jewels garnered there;
Gems that sorrow’s hand hath polished;
Richer gems than princes wear.”
I asked Mrs. W. who she was. She informed me that she was a rich widow from Arkansas, and had surrendered all the comforts of home to do what she could for the suffering of our army. She had been with it from the commencement of the war, and had spent a great deal of money. Mrs. W. also informed me that her face did not belie the goodness and purity of her heart; and that she was a Christian in the truest sense of the word. I hope that we have many such among us. I can not imagine why it is that I have heard so little about her. Is it because goodness and beauty are so common that Mrs. N. is not worth talking about, or is it that we do not properly appreciate what is good and lovely? As soon as Miss Nightingale went to the Crimean war, the whole world resounded with her praises; and here I have been nearly two months, and have scarcely heard Mrs. N.’s name mentioned.
