ed re Pl Lira an ri, | Acquired... bein earns nsec tinianansncnnan - - . 3 TO THE Gallant and W vhle Commander, Cot. Wm. S. CLARK: TO THE RESOLUTE AND PAT RIOTIC OFFICERS AND PRIVATES OF THE 21sT REGIMENT oF MA; VOLUNTEERS ; Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by TO THE BRAVE CITIZEN AND REGULAR soL- Tae MAssacuuserts Sappatu Scuoo. Socrery, DIERS OF THE GREAT ARMY OF THE in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of if UNITED STATE AND TO ALL YOUNG Massachusetts. MEN OF LOFTY AIMS AND EN- DEAVORS EVERYWHERE; THIS BRIEF MEMORIAL OF A YOUNG OFFICER Is RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY HIS FATHER. RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H. 0. HOUGHTON. ADJUTANT STEARNS. WHEN a young man of promise has sud- denly fallen in the presence of the nation and in defence of its liberties, and all hopes of his future usefulness, in ordinary ways, have been destroyed ; if there was anything in his character and life or in the circum- stances of his death which, if known, might be of benefit to the world, that sensitiveness of friendship could hardly be justified which should withhold from young men of his own age, and especially from his fellow-soldiers, some fitting memorial of him. Here is the reason, if any apology is needed, why the following biographical notices of Adjutant Stearns are submitted to the public. It 6 ADJUTANT STEARNS. might be thought they would come with better grace from some one whose intimacy of relationship might not be suspected of giving too high a coloring to the narrative. But if proper allowance is made for paren- tal partiality and tenderness, perhaps, in the case of one so early called away, no person could give a better impression of his real life and motives than his father. Frazar Avaustus Srzarns, who fell in the battle of Newbern, March 14th 1862, was born in Cambridge, Mass., on the 21st day of June, 1840, and was twenty-one years and about eight months old when he died. He was carried to the house of God, on the afternoon of the Sabbath, August 1st, of the same year, and, unconscious himself of the great transaction, was solemnly bap- tized into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Parents often enter into engagements for their chil- dren with men, why should they not with ADJUTANT STEARNS. 7 God? Many Christians take great delight in such consecrations. They lay their child, in the opening of his immortal being, upon the arms of eternal love, and ever after, pleading the Covenant for him, when the dark days of his history come, they look upon his baptism as the bow of promise which spans the cloud. Of the christian names given him on that occasion, Frazar was the maiden name of his mother, Rebecca Alden Frazar, daugh- ter of Samuel Alden Frazar, Esq., of Dux- bury, Mass. Frazar, the subject of this notice, was a descendant of * the Pilgrims.” Among his ancestors were Governor Thomas Dudley, and Captain Edward Johnson, the author of that quaint old history entitled “The Won- der-working Providence of Zion’s Saviour in New England.” Of the blood of the young Plymouth pilgrim, John Alden, three currents flowed in his veins. While a child, Frazar gave indications pa hi bic! bem se 8 ADJUTANT STEARNS. of some of those traits of character which were conspicuous in his after life. He was uncommonly truthful, conscientious, and high minded. Though of a sensitive and impul- sive nature, with quick, strong passions, he was filial and affectionate in disposition, kind and amiable among his associates, and generally magnanimous in his treatment of them. When a small boy, under the influence of parental teaching and the unconscious education of a Christian home, he became the subject of deep religious experiences. After much reflection for one so young, he made up his mind, not only to trust in Christ as his Saviour, but to serve him henceforth with entireness of heart. With characteristic earnestness and decision, he repeatedly signified to his parents his de- sire to confess Christ before men. On ac- count of his extreme youth, he was kept back for a time; but as his purposes seemed fixed, and his conduct not more inconsist- ADJUTANT STEARNS. 9 ent than that of the majority of older pro- fessors, it was thought that the risk of denying him longer, would be greater than that of complying with his request. After careful instruction, he was accordingly, on the first Sabbath of September, 1852, ad- mitted to the full fellowship of the Church, in which he had been baptized in infancy. It was an impressive scene and drew tears from many eyes, when that small boy —no older than his Saviour was when he heard the doctors in the Temple and asked them questions, — stood up with a few older per- sons, in the presence of a large congrega- tion, and entered into covenant with God and the Church. The independence of the child, whose modesty and natural reserve no one would call in question, seemed the more remark- able, as his older brother and sister, though not unthoughtful, had never at that time felt prepared to own in public the God of their fathers. His feelings on the subject Rese ae were eet Seren iT? 10 ADJUTANT STEARNS. appear, in part, from a little note which he handed to his sister some weeks before he joined the Church, and which h appens to have been preserved, The grammar will be excused as he was then only tw elve years of age. “Dar Fe, pus “Father told me, some time ago, that he supposed you was without any si good hope in Christ ; and I write to you that I may if possible help you. Do give your heart to God, if you have not already ; read your Bible much, and pray for a new he ask ‘Him who rules all things’ in you a right spirit. wanted advice, I ther ; art, and to create If you felt you advise you to go to fa- for I have, and he has done me a great deal of good. He says he wants Willie and you and myself, to join the Church together ; been waiting when I join, and he has for that time to come. Re- member me in your prayers, and I shall remain your affectionate brother, ek. A. 87 ADJUTANT STEARNS. it The expediency of admitting persons so young into the full fellowship of the Church must be judged of by circumstances. It can be done safely only after much in- struction and much prayer. The danger is that they may not understand themselves, or may not have that “ faith,” as well as knowledge, which is necessary “to discern the Lord’s body,” or may become the oc- easion of scandal, by those youthful incon- sistencies which will be likely sooner or later to appear. But our Saviour gives a caution also, in the other direction: ** Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones.”” ‘And whoso shall receive one such child in my name receiveth me.” Doubt- less the lambs are safest in the fold, if only lambs they are, and you can depend on the discretion and fidelity of the shepherds who have the immediate guardianship of them. His early education was derived chiefly from the common schools and the High am ee an Ss = 12 ADJUTANT STEARNS. School of Cambridge, to which, in some respects, no schools in the world were prob- ably superior. The zeal of some of his teachers, in imparting to him the first ru- diments of knowledge, especially in ele- mentary arithmetic, when he was not more than six or seven years old, and which in- spired him with a taste for mathematics, and laid the foundation of his after success in the study of them, will always be remem- bered by his friends, as it was by himself, with gratitude. In these schools, his pro- ficiency gave satisfaction, and he left them, after having completed their courses, August, 1854, In the early winter of that year, Frazar removed with his parents to Amherst, Mas- sachusetts. Not long after this event, sep- arated from his old companions and some of the religious influences which had been around him, though his conduct as a Chris- tian had not seemed particularly defective, he became for a short season the subject in ADJUTANT STEARNS. 13 of religious depression. The following note will explain his feelings. He was now in his fifteenth year. “Dear FatHer, — ** I cannot live any longer in such a con- dition. I must do something —I know not what. O what would not I give, if I only had a Christian’s hope! but I am afraid all is lost. I have strayed and wandered far from God, and I fear. How can I be saved after what I have done? I have solemnly avouched the Lord to be my God. I have covenanted in the presence of many wit- nesses to live no longer for the world, but for Christ above; and how have I fulfilled that vow? What have I lived for? I have given up to the enjoyment of this world, and to its temptations. I have made, at times, resolutions ; but these have been broken; and last of all I have been a disgrace to the Church and to Christ. How then can I be saved? Could I but have a hope in Christ, I would devote myself forever to his service ; 14 ADJUTANT STEARNS. but I am afraid all is lost. Do tell me what I must do? Pray for me, and ask God to grant me a hope in him. * Your affectionate son, “ FRAZAR.” On conversing with him, it appeared that while he had not wholly neglected religious duties, he had become remiss in them, had failed * to be watchful,” had not lived in his religion, had given away in some instances to temptation, and was wholly dissatisfied with himself. Of such a state of mind, the Christian, who has often felt himself like Paul to be the chief of sinners, needs no explanation. But if any read these lines who are ignorant of the Christian’s hidden life, let them understand. It is not the ex- perience of Christians that the soul leaps, at once, to its highest sanctification ; ‘the old man,” especially in the child, must have its development as well as “the new man,” and these will be repeated, and perhaps severe conflicts between them, and alternations of ADJUTANT STEARNS. 15 success, till ‘the new man” gets the final victory and “he that overcometh inherits all things.” It was only after he had been through the Slough of Despond, and held fast in Doubting Castle, and suffered the oppres- sions of Giant Despair, that Bunyan’s Pil- grim reached * the land of Beulah, where the air is sweet, and where the sun shineth night and day.” So “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,” is rarely enjoyed as a permanent state by any Christian till he has passed through many inward conflicts and perhaps discomfitures. About midsummer of this year, 1855, an event occurred than which hardly anything could have distressed him more deeply. It was the death of his mother. A woman of a strong mind and a large and loving heart, her influence over her children, and espe- cially over Frazar, who inherited her quick sensibilities, was of course very great. As he loved her exceedingly, her long sickness and uncommon sufferings, though submis- 16 ADJUTANT STEARNS. sively borne, were a constant source of de- pression to him. And when she gave him her parting counsels and a mother’s last kiss, and he saw her dying, though with the peace of God in her soul, it was almost more than his young spirit could endure. For a long time afterward the sadness of his desolated home oppressed him. The next spring, he was sent to Phillips’ Academy, in Andover, to prepare for col- lege. His desires for a more extended edu- cation than he had yet obtained had become strong, indeed, at times, intense. The fol- lowing notes reveal his feelings on the sub- ject, and give some glimpses of the intensity of his character. “Dear FATHER, — ‘“*T want to make a request of you, and I do it in writing because I can better tell you all the whys and wherefores. “In regard to my studying, I feel as I never have before; something within me says, Act; and as Sheridan said, ‘It is in ADJUTANT STEARNS. 17 me and must come out.’ I feel more and more, every day, the truth of the saying, ‘Knowledge is power.’ I am determined yet to make ‘something or nothing ;’ that is my motto, and, father, you shall yet hear from me in other ways than as your son. “The other night you asked me how I should like to go to Andover. I jumped at the thought, my heart leapt within me. I resolved soon to let you know. It is nota thing I have hastily thought of ; but I have thought it over and over and over again. For more than a month before, I had thought of it and turned it over in my mind. I have weighed it in every scale, and have long since come to the determination, if you will send me to Andover two years, to go to college.” Speaking of some difficulties in the way, and how he had'planned to overcome them, he continues : ‘**Havn’t other folks done so? and can’t I do the same? I will do the same, can’t or no can’t. It will be done, it shall be done. 2 18 ADJUTANT STEARNS. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I have the will; the way will follow.” A little time after, he writes : “DeAR FATHER, — “T can’t study here. I can’t do it. You don’t know how much I have tried, but it is no go; do let me go to Andover, and you will be thanked by me. Here I have all the interruptions you can imagine. Oh, father, father, my heart aches and is weary. Per- haps I have kept a merry face, —a merrier face than any of the rest; but I have often done so when within all was loneliness and sadness. I did not like to let you know that I was discontented or unhappy, but I am sick at heart, my heart gnaws after knowl- edge, and I must have it; but I can’t get it here, at home. I must go to Andover. I must have knowledge; and if you wish to make me happy, send me.” His course at Andover, though pleasant ADJUTANT STEARNS. 19 to himself and profitable, was short. On account of over-exertion, with some other students of the Academy, in an effort, un- der a fever of young® patriotism, to procure from the woods and erect a liberty pole — followed by a rapid walk to Boston to at- tend the celebrations of the Fourth of July —and of a cold which supervened — his health was so much impaired that, at the end of three months after he left home, he was obliged to suspend his studies and re- turn to Amherst. After several interruptions in his studies at home, he so far completed his prepara- tory course as to be admitted into Amherst College as a member of the Freshman class, in August, 1857, at the age of seventeen. From the time he united with the Church in Cambridge, in 1852, till he entered col- lege, his moral and religious life was marked with but few noteworthy indications. Not- withstanding some afflictions, he seemed generally happy. He entered with great 20 ADJUTANT STEARNS. avidity into youthful sports, without being addicted to the vices which are often con- nected with them. While he was sensitive and proud-spirited, and could not brook an insult, his filial and affectionate nature could be appealed to with success, and the Jaw of parental control was never resisted. Every- thing low and mean was his abhorrence, and, even from his earliest boyhood, he always expressed the utmost indignation at vulgar- ity and profaneness. As, owing to special circumstances, he had entered college after preparations too hastily and imperfectly made, he did not reach his ideal, in the classics, during the Freshman year. “ Indeed,” says Professor Tyler, from whose address at the funeral I am allowed to quote, “his taste was rather for the mathematical and physical sciences and their practical applications. He began early to collect minerals, and under the per- sonal influence and friendship of the accom- plished Professor in that department, he not , ee . ADJUTANT STEARNS. 21 only studied them scientifically, but admired these exquisite productions of Nature’s handi- work as an amateur. He was particularly fond of chemistry, and it was in the labora- tory that he first formed that attachment for the Professor, afterwards his Major and Colonel, which grew with every subsequent year, and ended only in that gallant charge which cost one of them his life and. the other a pang little short of that which separates soul from body,” In the winter and spring of 1858, during that remarkable revival of religion which followed the great financial crash of 1857, when the whole country was roused to re- flection, and as the result of which more than ninety-six thousand hopeful conver- sions to Christ were enumerated, Am- herst, in common with other colleges, and Frazar, in common with his fellow-students, was deeply moved. In the early part of that season, he not only seemed to partici- pate personally in the religious quickening, 22 ADJUTANT STEARNS. but to take the deepest interest in its in- fluence upon others. As the work went forward and he was led to examine more searchingly the foundations of his own hope in Christ, he began to doubt whether he had really experienced that great change which the New Testament speaks of as a new birth, a new creation, a resurrection from the dead. The suspicion that he might have deceived himself, and have been living in a delusion, excited and grieved him, and awakened in him some terrible doubts respecting the genuinehess of revivals and even of Christianity itself, This state of mind was not a little agera- vated by the influence of one or two some- what talented but sceptically inclined asso- ciates, who had learned enough of panthe- istic speculation to complicate themselves in its meshes, but not enough to detect its sophistries or turn back again to the old foundations of Christian peace. His scep- tical questionings were not, however, wel- ADJUTANT STEARNS. 23 comed and rejoiced in, as they often are by irreligious men ;_ but they took the form of fear approaching desperation, not unat- tended by rebellion of spirit, lest he might be disappointed in all that he had hoped and believed. His religious life was like a harp not broken and destroyed, but un- strung and discordant. All the dangers of “drawing back unto perdition ” which the Apostle foresaw when he said, * Cast not away therefore your confidence,’ now threatened him. Nor was it till sometime afterward, when he had been taught by ex- perience “that there is small chance of truth at the goal, when there is not child- like humility at the starting-post,” that he was enabled to escape the regions of unrest and plant his feet on the firm earth again. All this, however strange it may seem to the mere worldling, will be understood by the Christian who has learned in the school of a divine discipline that the crown of thorns precedes the crown of glory. 24 ADJUTANT STEARNS. Towards the close of his first year in col- lege, he was visited with a grief which, though for the most part hidden in his heart, made an ineffaceable impression up- on it. It was the death of a young friend with whom he had been as intimate from his early childhood as a brother with a sister, Beautiful and interesting, — an only child, —consumption had marked her for a victim. She died at the age of eighteen in sweet sub- mission to the Divine will, peacefully trust- ing in Jesus, and looking forward with confi- dence and joy to the heavenly rest. Though she had never been to him, perhaps, much more than as a sister, when she was gone and her society could not be had, a sense of bereavement came over him, and the night- shades often afterwards hung upon his spirit ; and when the first days of mourning were over, like Dante’s Beatrice, she became a sort of pure angelic presence to him, strength- ening his faith and hallowing his life. An event occurred early in his Sophomore ADJUTANT STEARNS)? 25 year which was neither particularly credit- able to himself nor to other parties con- cerned in it, though it grew out of honor- able feelings and a high-minded intention. He had always expressed the greatest con- tempt for that petty tyranny which is so often practised by Sophomores upon Fresh- men. Most of his classmates, actuated by the same spirit, with more magnanimity of intention than wisdom in the manner of ex- ecution, had undertaken with him to break down the prestige of this old custom of bar- harism. In carrying out their plans, as might have been anticipated, they came into collision with the class above them. “A point of honor” was in question; and on this the college spirit effervesced. Many of both classes were, for a time, not only strangely excited, but greatly imperilled. One of the wildest storms ever known in Amherst College was raging, when a col- lege officer appeared on the ground and secured a calm. \" ] 26 ADJUTANT STEARNS. Sometime afterwards, for his heroism in defending what they considered “their hon- or,” on this occasion, at the hazard of his life, his classmates proposed to present him an elegantly mounted revolver ; but he de- clined the perilous gift. They gave him a beautiful writing-desk, which he gratefully, but reluctantly accepted. He never, how- ever, looked upon it with entire complacency, as it reminded him of a scene which he was only too willing to forget. He used to say that “he should thank God to the latest day of his life” that in the great excitement of that hour “he was withheld from committing any act of violence.” About the middle of the first term of the Sophomore year, he was attacked by one of those long and dangerous typhoid fevers which, when not fatal, often seem to wreck both body and mind. In one of its crises, the physician, though he expressed himself hopefully, was constrained to say that he should not be surprised if he were entirely ADJUTANT STEARNS. 27 prostrated before noon, and dead before night. Those who know the hearts of Christians will not wonder that enough of his dangerous condition should have been intimated to him, to open the way for free conversation as to his hopes of the future. Nor will they think ‘it strange that such hearts should. be filled with gratitude to God when they found him then in full possession of his reason, calm, sustained by a firm trust in Christ, and something like “an assurance of hope.’”’ The way thus opened, select passages of Scrip- ture and hymns which contain the essence of the Gospel, in its simplest form, such as, “ Just as I am, without one plea,” were read to him ; prayers also were offered occasionally with him, and conversations fol- lowed, which not only gave much consola- tion to anxious hearts of love, but seemed to inspire him with fresh courage and peace. It is pleasant to remember that amidst the mental wanderings of that long sickness, the unconscious revelations which he then made 28 ADJUTANT STEARNS. of his character, were all elevated and beau- tiful. He was forming patriotic plans for the pacification of the country, and the re- moval of the evils which even then seemed impending ; he was engaged in important mechanical inventions; he was composing music ; he was discovering splendid miner- als ; he was making vast sums of money, not so much for himself as for richly endowing and furnishing the college and making pres- ents to his friends. At one time, he thought that he had delivered an address which was received with approval. « Father,” he said, “how did you like it?” Being answered somewhat evasively, but in the line of his own fancies, he responded, « I always thought I should do something to please you.” On religious subjects, he was trustful and submissive. ‘ What are those words,” said he to his sister, during the sufferings of a very sick night; “They shall hunger no more, nor thirst; what are they?” The ADJUTANT STEARNS. 29 passage was repeated to him. “ They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and Gop shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” ‘Beautiful, beautiful,” said he in a voice sweetly subdued, “I almost wish I was there.” This protracted sickness not only pros- trated his physical nature, but after a while enfeebled his mind. He became in some re- spects almost a child again, and could best be entertained with hearing the books which he had read in his childhood, and in listen- ing to childish tales which had long since ceased to interest him. At this point the pen stops, and the writer asks himself, with surprise at the exhibitions he has given, — Was this opening life, which had seemed generally so joyous, the subject of uncommon trials? And the answer must 30 ADJUTANT STEARNS. be, that while there was much youthful hap- piness in it, there was also the discipline of much sorrow. It was a mixed scene, — great gorgeous clouds, black and golden. Nor was this lot, though hard, to be de- precated. Suffering, when not too mighty for us, is educational. Great characters are rarely formed without it; great Christian attainment is usually conditioned upon it. Though a happy young life may seem most pleasant to us, difficulty and affliction are We admire the wheat in its greenness, still more when ‘ts doubtless its best teachers. heads bend together with ripened grain ; but it must be cut and threshed and ground and bolted before it is fitted for its highest use. After he was supposed to have recov- ered from this sickness, in the words of Professor Tyler’s address, “ he attempted to resume his studies; but he could not command his faculties. For once and for a season, his will was baffled, and that in ADJUTANT STEARNS. 81 the realm of his own mind. He returned to his favorite pursuits in the laboratory and the mineral kingdom; but these did not satisfy: he must have a complete col- lege education. He took to horticulture ; and succeeded admirably in raising vegeta- bles, but not in restoring his health.” After several efforts at study, as a last experiment, Professor Henshaw of Rutger’s College, then at Byfield, Mass., was in- duced to undertake to aid him in reviving his lost knowledge and preparing him to reénter college. Though several months had now passed since he began to call him- self well, he was really unfit for study. His mind was often in a whirl of confu- sion. His plans of life were unsettled, and his religion, just now, did not sustain him. Indeed, while at Byfield, he went through another of those terrible experiences which had so strongly shaken him in 1858, Much may be attributed to imperfect health, but much more to the workings of an earnest 82 ADJUTANT STEARNS. religious nature, in the earlier conflicts of its sanctification. God ploughs deep fur- rows, when he would produce great sheaves, Had he been older and known more of Christian experience, he might have con- demned himself less bitterly for unwelcome doubts, and have waited more calmly, in the way of obedience and prayer, for light. His state of mind was thus expressed : “You say,” he writes, “I have no better friend on earth than my father. If I thought otherwise I would not tell you what I am going to now. I am very unhappy, and have been for some time. Those old doubts have been coming up in my mind, and until they are solved I shall be unhappy. You tell me to ‘rejoice ever- more,’ and ‘pray without ceasing.’ I can do neither, for I seem to believe nothing. O! the misery, —the agony I endure you cannot imagine ; and sometimes I wish I had died when I thought I believed, rather than live to become (as I fear I shall) an ADJUTANT STEARNS. 38 infidel. I would like to believe if I could. I know some will call me fickle, change- able, and ridicule me; but I am tonttiig = = ee — wi prodigal son, and ‘ east, will not reproach mae Meanwhile, ask the Saviour you be- lieve in, if he be true, to convince me.” Professor Henshaw writes concerning him “ His mind, I should think, is in a. ap nervous, excitable condition. I have had several conversations with him on his re- ligious state, and find him troubling him- self with doubts regarding the truth of Christianity and the reality of Christian ex- perience. Perhaps his troubles are mainly owing to his sickness, his depressed feel- ings, and the absence of his former lively Joy in Christ. I think, however, he has been affected somewhat by the freely ex- pressed doubts of some of his associates in college and other places. I think he is hon- est in his doubts, and I have striven to aid him j i n resolving them. He seems to be now 3 ora fais una nears 34 ADJUTANT STEARNS. taking the right direction, but is in a very dangerous state of mind. I can but hope the result will be a deeper experience, a more thorough knowledge of himself and of the deceptiveness of the heart, and higher Christian faith and joy. He has evidently had seasons of deep depression, increased by his lonely situation here; and I should not be surprised if he had manifested a good deal of the hero in_ his struggles against them.” This state of mind could not long con- tinue. The letter to his father marked a crisis in his feelings. He had hardly ex- pressed them when he began to find relief. And though he did not immediately reach the firmest rock of faith, he ceased to sink in the slough of unbelief, His second letter, written but a few days after the first, reveals the point of transi- tion from conflict and trouble to the be- ginnings of peace, reece mnenansitisaemtreninlign ADJUTANT STEARNS. 35 “Drar Fatuer, — “Ere this you will doubtless have re- ceived a letter from me written while I was in a most intense agony. I say ag- ony, for until a person feels that he has nothing to live for, that he has no God, no religion, he does not know what agony is. This you will readily see has been my trouble —has caused these fluctuations — has made me discontented and unhappy. But it was more than I could bear, or any one, for any length of time. I thought once that I was going erazy. I truly thought So. What I could do I did not know; for I had nothing to live for, and wished only that I might die. I began to grow scepti- cal as I grew better from my sickness, until at last I seemed to believe nothing of the Bible, except that a God exists. I began to investigate the matter, and finally came to the conclusion that although I might be rejected, although I might be cast off, yet while life should last I would in future do all 36 ADJUTANT STEARNS. in my power to advance Christ’s kingdom. I found that I never should be happy as long as I disbelieved the Gospel; and may God forgive me for doing as I have done! Why, I have been in a perfect hell for hours at a time, when, as I say, I be- gan to think I should go mad. I do not think I shall ever be troubled so again, for in future, I am resolved to carry all my doubts to the Lord. I will study as hard as I can, and at the same time keep in good health. “This I am resolved upon, — that ‘if prayers to God, and effort to do the will of God, are powerful with Him, they shall no more be neglected by me; and although there are many things which I can’t ex- plain even now, I can say, ‘Lord, I be- lieve, help thou mine unbelief.’ You, I feel assured, will pray for me; pray es- pecially that God will give me strength and grace to overcome temptation, — that He will give me love to Him, and a desire ADJUTANT STEARNS. 37 and willingness to do his commands. I can’t say that I feel full of religious faith and hope; but a strong, earnest purpose to do the will of God, I do feel. I had rather have the smallest hope I ever had that I was a Christian, than to live my life over again for a month past. * Can you wonder I was unable to de- cide upon anything? How could 1? — for I had no God to go to. And may He be merciful to me as I need mercy! Please write me when you find it convenient, and remember me in your prayers.” It had been made evident by repeated experiments that successful study could not be realized in him without some radical revolution of his physical system. Accord- ingly a sea voyage was planned for him to Bombay, in which city his elder brother had previously established himself in busi- ness. Frazar entered into this arrange- ment with great delight. He sailed from Boston, in The Sabine, Captain Hendee, on ara ee Xt i | 88 ADJUTANT STEARNS. the 15th of October, 1859, just one year after his attack of fever, and landed in Bombay, March 6th, 1860, having been out 144 days, or nearly five months. This long voyage did for him more than the most sanguine of his friends had dared to hope. It completely renovated his con- stitution, and established his health. It restored and strengthened his intellectual powers, and almost new-created his moral and spiritual being. It was not a voyage of idleness, Though he had shipped as a cabin passenger, he preferred to participate in the work of the vessel; and no man on board, the captain said, worked harder. He studied the vessel in all its parts and powers. He made himself master of all the routine duties of the sailor. He stud- ied navigation, and learned as an officer to work the ship. He kept a nautical jour- nal with scientific accuracy and fullness, Partly to perfect his knowledge of the ship and partly for the exercise of his mechan- ADJUTANT STEARNS. 89 ical talents, in this and on the return voy- age, he constructed a model vessel, which he afterward bequeathed to his father as a keepsake, and which is a beautiful memo- rial of industry, ingenuity, and filial affec- tion. But the spiritual advantages of the voy- age were far greater than all the others. He had time for reflection, he had time for the study of the sacred Scriptures, he had time for prayer, and under the Divine teaching his mind worked itself clear of those old terrific doubts, and his heart Opened itself to the full sunshine of God’s love. Out in the solemn solitudes of the Ocean, where he could often be alone with the great deep, and the clouds, and the blue expanse, and the starry night, and the storms, and the Maker of them all, he Consecrated himself anew to Christ, and learned that “believing was simply trust- ing.” The great battle with unbelief was fought out, — the enemy in his heart had 40 ADJUTANT STEARNS. been effectually routed. He moved ever afterward, in the spiritual realm of his be- ing, comparatively speaking, as a conqueror. Not that the Christian warfare had ended, for that ends rarely except with life; but the hostile forces gained no more import- ant victories, and could not longer greatly disturb his peace. In mid-ocean, he writes to his sister, January 4th, 1860. ‘Let us both look forward to the time when you and I shall meet again, not merely as brother and sister, but as fellow- laborers in Christ. I might have been far different from what I hope I am, if you had treated me differently. Thanks be to God, I hope and believe that here amid the endless strife and wild confusion of the ocean, He has opened my eyes. And my daily prayer is, to be made more sensible of my utter sinfulness and my entire de- pendence on Him. “I do not know whither the Lord is di- ADJUTANT STEARNS. 41 recting me. But wherever He says, I will go, with His grace to help me.” ' After reaching Bombay, he writes again: “ As for myself, I hope I have found the way to eternal life. As yet it seems faint, and the light but very feeble; but I do not deserve any more, and am thankful for only a little. I have been searching for a long time for what is the easiest thing in the world to find, and I hope to come all right and grow in grace.” His brother and sister in Bombay were greatly surprised by his altered appearance. His robust, sound health, his spirit and cour- age, his manly bearing, his elevated views, and most of all his unpretending but earn- est piety, delighted them. He iene two months in India, where everything was new and strange to him, with the greatest pleasure and profit. Soon after he had shipped for home, his brother writes : — “We easily imagine your anxiety, for ‘we had a brother once,’ and never shall I 42 ADJUTANT STEARNS. forget his smiling face when he first made his appearance with us. He has left, too, such pleasant remembrances, such gladsome feelings, —for we are sure that Frazar is fast anchored to that Rock from which there is no parting asunder again. You cannot realize the holy, happy change in him. As father says, God did have a ‘plan,’ and has carried him safely through the Slough of Despond.” As he was about leaving Bombay for the home voyage he writes: “My Dear Farner, — “I start on or about April, 15th. But, taking example of so worthy a person as my father, I shall divide my letter into several topics. 1st. Health; it was never better, and I, with the blessing of God, shall come back a strong, healthy man, 2d. Spirits, —not ardent spirits, but men- tal. My spirits never were better. I am no longer of a dull, moping disposition, but am disposed to see the world as it is, and ee ee eee a ee! ADJUTANT STEARNS. 43 to make the best of everything. 3d. My plans for the future are what I told you in my last letter, subject, of course, to the will of God. Lastly. I hope I am at last all right in religious matters. I trust I have learned to put faith in Christ and God, which is in truth believing. I have the greatest faith that I shall be able to rely wholly on Him, for consolation here ” below and mercy above. His voyage out was attended with one of the heaviest gales ever known in the Indian Ocean; and a storm, if possible, still more terrific struck the ship on its return, a few days before reaching its American port. But these perils of the deep were among his pastimes, and ghte health to his body and sublimity to his thoughts. He was welcomed home, about the last of August, 1860, to overflowing hearts of love, and with profound gratitude to God. 44 ADJUTANT STEARNS. “On renewing their acquaintance with him after his return,” says Professor Tyler, “his teachers and friends were not more delighted with his manifest physical reno- vation than with the scarcely less visible enlargement of his mind, elevation of his views and improvement of his character, thus forming at least one exception to the ze . * . maxim of the Latin poet, ‘Qui trans mare currunt, locum, non animum mutant. “During an absence from them of two years, he had almost forgotten his classics. But he resumed the study of them with the resolution to make himself a scholar, Greek now became to him another lan- guage from what it ever seemed before. Not content with the studies and instruc- tions of the regular course, he had com- menced some private lessons with the Pro- fessor, with the intention of laying broader and deeper the foundations of his knowl- edge of that wonderful language. And though he had to begin almost at the be- ADJUTANT STEARNS. 45 ginning again, I have no doubt, he would have mastered the difficulties had not the call of his country soon filled his ear and rendered him deaf to the remonstrances of the Muses. “I cannot bring this brief record of his college life to a conclusion,” he adds, ‘ with- out adverting to an incident which marked its close, and formed a fit transition to the career of honor and self-sacrifice upon which he was soon to enter. Having been appoint- ed one of the speakers from the Sophomore class in the prize declamations at Commence- ment, he won the’first prize. A classmate who was poor, not only gained no prize, but in consequence of having labored to the very last moment, in lighting the audience-room, lost his memory, and broke down in the midst of his piece. Stearns insisted that but for the exhaustion consequent upon this exertion, his classmate would have been a promising competitor for the honor, and so constrained him to receive the prize. 46 ADJUTANT STEARNS. This fact was confided at the time only to a single friend, and probably never would have gone further, had it not been for the young hero’s early death. “ The fall of Fort Sumter,” continues the narrator, “which roused the nation from its fatal slumber, started young Stearns, like the sound of a trumpet; and on that dark and portentous Sunday, when so many ministers preached and so many congrega- tions heard the Word under the fearful foreboding that the flag of secession al- ready darkened the capitol, the ardent and generous young men of the college thought it no breach of the Sabbath to enroll a company, if needed, for the defence of Washington; and at the head of this list of young patriot warriors, was written in his own hand, the name of Frazar