Taken from my Diary for Etta.

Henry. V. Hoagland.

 

Lookout Mountain June 19^th/64

 

I am sitting on Point Lookout the highest point on lookout Mountain waiting for the cloud whitch envelopes us to break away. it is the first time in my life that I was ever in a cloud. it is so thick that it is almost impossible to see twenty feet ahead, but it begins to grow lighter, and I hope it will clear up before long, for I feel anxious to get a view from here.

 

One hour later.

I have visited the hospital back toward the center of the mountain and returned. the cloud has cleared away and the sun shines brilliantly on the senery below. it is as I imagined a splendid view. the Tennessee River is almost directly under the projecting rock on whitch I am sitting. it runs north for aways and then takeing a bend almost due East, then South, untill inclining a little west, untill it almost runs together, then taking another short bend it resumes its course north again, as far as I can see 

 

Directly in the bend on the south side of the river and almost surrounded with watter is the city of Chattenooga with its strong defences one large fort on a hill at the only entrance to the city except across the river stands very prominent it seems to be almost impregnable. the gaping mouths of the montrous cannon showing themselves through evry porthole speaks death and destruction to the enimy who attempt to enter by that way. their are other forts both above and below this on the river banks, also one on the side of Lookout Mountain, all of whitch have a good range and would be teribly destructive to an asaulting foe. I can see in the distance on the top of Missionary ridge another large fort with smaller ones on either side of it. these were built by the rebels and are now apropriated by us. they command the whole valley below. I can see also on this ridge the clump of trees where Gen Bragg had his head quarters. this Ridge presents a most butifull apearance, in fact the whole senery forms a grand and wonderfull picture, one whitch will fill the heart of the lover of nature with delight and ellivate his mind to things of a higher sphere. I wish I was an artist that I could paint it and keep it ever before me, but no artist of earth could paint a picture like this, so butifull so grand so wonderfull. is this the work of chance, is this butifull picture an evidence that there is no god. / it is strange that men should persist in believing such things, and yet it is true. there are intelligent men near me now who after gazing on all these wonders of creation, are ready to deny any recognition of the hand of an all mighty being is conected with them. they say it is all a work of chance and that the existence of a creator is but a superstitious belief of an erring people. it is strange. they certainly cannot believe what they say. their concience must tell them differently, but let them think so. I know they are wrong, and I will continue to believe in the existence of an almighty allwise and most mercifull God who created all these wonders and has dominion over them. he also created us and no claims not only our respect but our love and our obedience to his word but how often do we forget this and disregard it. how unworthy we are of his blessings, how ungratefull, if the least of them is witheld we grumble, and think we are iltreated, and yet what claim can we have upon the smallest of his favors, none whatever. we rather merit his displeasure and punishment. the boys are calling me they are going to have a photograph taken so I close my diary for this time

                                                                       

Henry. V. Hoagland.

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