These I sit
down and either talk to, or silently cheer them up. They always like
it hugely, (and so do I.) Each case has its peculiarities, and needs
some new adaptation. I have learnt to thus conform--learnt a good deal
of hospital wisdom. Some of the poor young chaps, away from home for
the first time in their lives, hunger and thirst for affection; this
is sometimes the only thing that will reach their condition. The men
like to have a pencil, and something to write in. I have given them
cheap pocket-diaries, and almanacs for 1864, interleav'd with blank
paper. For reading I generally have some old pictorial magazines or
story papers--they are always acceptable. Also the morning or evening
papers of the day. The best books I do not give, but lend to read
through the wards, and then take them to others, and so on; they are
very punctual about returning the books. In these wards, or on the
field, as I thus continue to go round, I have come to adapt myself
to each emergency, after its kind or call, however trivial, however
solemn, every one justified and made real under its circumstances
--not only visits and cheering talk and little gifts--not only washing
and dressing wounds, (I have some cases where the patient is unwilling
any one should do this but me)--but passages from the Bible,
expounding them, prayer at the bedside, explanations of doctrine, &c.
(I think I see my friends smiling at this confession, but I was never
more in earnest in my life.
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