He sat on the steps of the gallery and heard this wonderful man preach a sermon in which he illustrated an auctioneer selling a negro girl at the block.  He sat as one entranced.  So did the immense audience, held spellbound by the scene so graphically pictured.  It was the first interesting sermon he had ever heard.  It made a tremendous impression on him, not only in itself, but as a vivid contrast between the formal, rattling-of-dry-bones sermon and the live, vital discourse that takes hold of a man’s mind and heart and compels him to go out in the world and do things for the good of his fellow men.  Long it remained in his memory, but the greatest inspiration from it did not come till later years, when suddenly it stood forth as if illumined, to throw a brilliant radiance on a path he had decided to tread.

CHAPTER VIII.

WHILE THE CONFLICT RAGED

Lincoln’s Call for 100,000 Men.  Enlistment.  Captain Conwell.  In Camp at Springfield, Mass.  The Famous Gold-sheathed Sword.

In 1862, Lincoln sent out an earnest call for 100,000 men for the war.  Russell was not longer to be denied, and his father permitted him to enlist.  What silent agony, what earnest prayers for his safety went up from his mother’s heart, only other mothers in those terrible days knew.

He raised a company from Worthington, Chesterfield, Huntington, Russell, Blandford and the neighboring towns and was unanimously elected captain, though only nineteen.  His earnest, fiery speeches had already made him famous, and when it was known he had enlisted and was raising a company, there was a rush to get into it, and the men as with one voice, demanded that he be their captain.  No one ever thought of canvassing against him.  A committee was appointed to wait on Governor Andrew to persuade him to commission Russell in spite of his age, and when he received the appointment, the cheers and applause of the enthusiastic, the quiet satisfaction of the sedate, showed the place which he had in their hearts.  It is almost incomprehensible to those not acquainted with the man, but those who have come in contact with him, know what a hold he would soon gain over those “Mountain Boys,” as the company was called.  His kindly sympathy would quickly make them feel that in their captain, each had a warm personal friend.  His generous heart would back up that belief with a hundred and one little acts of thoughtful kindness.  Over each and every one would be exercised a watchful care that cheered the long days, lightened heavy loads, lessened discomforts.  It is little wonder that their devotion to him amounted almost to adoration.  Gray-haired men followed him as proudly as though his years matched theirs.  Indeed, to their loyalty was added a fatherly feeling of guardianship over him, because of his youth, that brought a new pleasure into the relationship.  The company was knit together with the bonds of loving comradeship as were few others.