MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.

CHAPTER I.

FIGHTING FOR THE GOVERNMENT ACKNOWLEDGED AS A CHRISTIAN DUTY.

THE examples of our motto in this chapter show, among other proofs, how strongly the Christian sentiment of the country has been aroused by the object and issues of the present war, and illustrate the true connection between loyalty to God and loyalty to the government. The examples have been selected with impartiality, from a wide range of religious and social life. They are specimens only (which is true also of other portions of the book) of the many similar incidents that have appeared from day to day in the public journals since the outbreak of the rebellion. They are instances of an unselfish, heroic devotion to the claims of patriotism and humanity, which, instead of being admired and praised merely, should rebuke our apathy if we are not in sympathy with such ideas of public duty; which, at all events, should strengthen the universal determination to crush the rebellion, and save from overthrow our institutions of liberty, self-government, and law, to which these costly sacrifices are giving, if it were possible, new sacredness and value. On subjects of this nature

facts supply the most effective teaching, and those presented here may as well be left to make their own impression, without amplification or comment.

I. THE FIRST OHIO VOLUNTEER.

The name to which this enviable distinction belongs is never to perish. Colonel Lorin Andrews, late President of Kenyon College, in Ohio, was the first man in that State to offer his services to the governor. Having raised a company by his own efforts, he was elected captain, and afterwards was appointed colonel of the Fourth Regiment of the Ohio Volunteers. At the expiration of the three months for which he had been called out, he enlisted for the war, and commanded his regiment until disease, contracted in camp, compelled him to resign. He then went home, already death-stricken, and soon ended his days. Though he had no opportunity to share in any actual fighting, he was considered a very efficient and brave officer, as well as a devoted, exemplary Christian.1

"I well remember," says Bishop McIlvaine, in the address at his funeral, "with what pleasure he related to me a circumstance that had just occurred, which put his decision as a Christian to a severe test. On the previous Sunday, some good minister of the Methodist denomination had preached to them. At the close of his discourse, very unexpectedly to Col. Andrews, he called on him to pray. It was a trial. But immediately he saw what an opening it afforded him at once, in the sight of the whole thousand, officers and soldiers, to the far greater portion of whom he was as yet personally a stranger, - to take his stand as a

1 The compiler has learned these facts from a private letter.

FIRST CHRIST'S, THEN OUR COUNTRY'S.

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Christian, and as one who intended to walk before them in the confession of Christ. He therefore, without hesitation, stood up and prayed, - praying for his men and their families. The impression was very strong and general; and he was happy and thankful. About this time, in expectation of soon taking the field, he said to me, 'I have no fear that I shall not have courage enough for the dangers of battle. All my anxiety is that I may have firmness enough to be faithful and decided as a Christian in all the various circumstances in which I may be placed. I feel that to do that requires higher courage than to stand unmoved before the mouth of cannon.

"Such a man," continues the bishop, "was fitted to have command in our army. He could be trusted. In writing to me about the motives which led him to become a soldier, he said he had no love or desire for a military life. It was not his taste. He did not covet military distinction. He was a man of peace and quietness. But he was moved entirely by the consideration of duty to his country, in the time of her great and awful trial. He said he had carefully and solemnly, before God, considered his duty; and he had prayerfully arrived at the conviction on which he was acting."

“He died,” says his successor in the college, "in the full enjoyment of his faith, and trust in his Redeemer, and, I believe, has gone to that perfect rest prepared for the saints in heaven."

II. FIRST CHRIST'S, THEN OUR COUNTRY'S.

Bishop Simpson, of the Methodist church, soon after the outbreak of the great treachery, delivered a sermon on the national crisis, at Chicago. It is represented as one of the ablest efforts of this clergyman, so distinguished for his

power in the pulpit. As it was one of the anniversaries of the denomination, thousands were present to hear the discourse. Suddenly, at one point in the sermon, and as the fitting close of a most impassioned paragraph, he gave utterance to the following noble sentiment: "We will take our glorious flag-the flag of our country-and nail it just below the cross! That is high enough! There let it wave as it waved of old. Around it let us gather: 'First Christ's, then our country's.""

The effect was electrical. Every heart responded to the appeal. The sentiment, the preacher's manner, the solemnity of the crisis, moved the great assembly as men are seldom moved under the power of human speech.

III. SONGS ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.

The sanguinary battle of Shiloh was fought on the sixth and the seventh of April, 1862. The ordinary scene which presents itself, after the strife of arms has ceased, is familiar to every one. Heaps of the slain, where friend and foe lie by the side of each other; bodies mangled and bleeding; shrieks of the wounded and dying, are things which we always associate with the victories and defeats of war. But seldom do we read that voices of prayer, that hymns of exultant faith and thanksgiving, have been heard at such times and in such places.

The following account was received from the lips of a brave and pious captain in one of the Western regiments, as some friends who visited Shiloh on the morning after the battle were conveying him to the hospital.

The man had been shot through both thighs with a rifle bullet; it was a wound from which he could not recover. While lying on the field, he suffered intense agony from thirst. He supported his head upon his hand, and the rain