be open to him in which he could be more or
less directly in touch with the soldiers. While uncertain as to his
future course, he was, happily for his country, led to consult his old
friend, Senator Henry Wilson, who immediately and strenuously advised
him to give up all idea of either the army, the hospital, the
clerical, or any other government service, but to enter at once
actively upon the work of a war correspondent.

"Your talent," said Wilson, "is with the pen, and you can do the best
service by seeing what is going on and reporting it."

The author of the "Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America"
intimated that truth, accurately told and published throughout the
North, was not only extremely valuable, but absolutely necessary. It
would not take long for a thoroughly truthful reporter to make himself
a national authority. The sympathizers with disunion would be only too
active in spreading rumors to dishearten the upholders of the Union,
and there would be need for every honest pen and voice.

After this conversation, Carleton was at peace. He would find his work
and ask no other blessedness. But how to find it, and to win his place
as a recognized writer on the field was a question. Within our
generation, the world has learned the value of the war correspondent.
He has won the spurs of the knighthood of civilization. He wears in
life the laurel wreath of fame. He is respected in his calling. He
goes forth as an apostle of the printed truth. The resources of
wealthy corporations are behind him. His salary is not princely, but
it is ample. Though he may lose limb or life, he is honored like the
soldier, and after his death, the monument rises to his memory. In the
great struggle between France and Germany, between Russia and
Turkey, between Japan and China, and in the minor wars of European
Powers against inferior civilizations, in Asia and Africa, the "war
correspondent" has been a striking figure. He is not the creation of
our age; but our half of this century, having greater need of him, has
equipped him the most liberally. He has his permanent place of honor.
If the newspaper is the Woden of our century and civilization, the war
correspondent and the printer are the twin Ravens that sit upon his
shoulder. The one flies afar to gather the news, the other sits at
home to scatter the tidings.

In 1861 it was very different. The idea of spending large sums of
money, and maintaining a staff-corps of corres