very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea. The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth; the Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge."

Such is the spirit in which many of the volunteers have gone forth to defend their country. The men who march by prayer are not the men to retreat in the day of battle, through cowardice, or a feeble sense of their responsibility, as the champions of law and liberty.

IV. THE DYING SOLDIER'S PRAYER FOR THE PRESIDENT.

In the summer of 1862, a private named Scott, who belonged to the Third Vermont Regiment, was court-martialled for sleeping on his post, near Chain Bridge, on the upper Potomac. He was convicted and sentenced to be shot. The decision was affirmed by the general, and the day fixed for his execution. The culprit, who had more than ordinary strength of character, did not beg for pardon or complain, but was willing to meet his fate.

The appointed day drew near. The necessity of war required an example, and this case was thought to be an aggravated one. But the circumstances reached the ears of the President, and he was disposed to show mercy. He signed a pardon, and sent it to the camp, in the belief that he had done all that was necessary. Soon the last day itself arrived. Having heard nothing, the President began to fear lest the pardon had not reached its destination. The telegraph was put in requisition, but no answer was received. There was not a moment to lose. "Bring up

THE DYING SOLDIER'S PRAYER.

75

my carriage," he ordered. The carriage came; the important state papers were laid aside, and, beneath the hot, broiling sun and over dusty roads, he rode to the camp, distant about ten miles, and ascertained for himself that the matter was safe. The pardon was not made known to the soldier, till he had already kneeled down upon his coffin, and the executioners with loaded muskets were awaiting the order to fire. None except a few officers knew that he was to be reprieved.

The President may have forgotten the occurrence, but the grateful soldier did not forget it. At the battle of Lee's Mills, near Yorktown, on the 16th of April, a division of the Vermont troops was ordered to cross a stream and attack a strong work of the insurgents on the other side. As the Third Vermont charged upon the riflepits here, they were met by a deadly volley from the rebels. The first man who fell was William Scott of company K., whose life the President's clemency had spared. Six bullets pierced his body. His comrades caught him up, from the ground, and as his life-blood ebbed away, he exclaimed, "Bear witness, I have proved myself not a coward, and am not afraid to die;" and, then, amid the groans of the dying, and the shouts of the enemy, with his last breath, he raised to heaven a prayer for the President.

He was interred in the presence of his regiment, in a little grove, about two miles in the rear of the rebel fort. The grave was dug in the centre of a group of holly and vines, with cherry-trees then in blossom on the outer circle. In turning up the earth, a skull and other bones, and several metal buttons were found, showing that this identical spot had been used in the Revolutionary War, for the burial of those who fell in like manner as martyrs for their country. The chaplain related the history of young Scott

to the boys, as they stood with uncovered heads around the grave. Of the President's noble conduct he spoke in fitting terms of admiration.

The military offence of the brave soldier, was not without its mitigation. It was found that he had been on duty two nights in succession; had served voluntarily the second night for a sick comrade, and on the third had been overcome by sleep. Shortly before he enlisted, he had avowed himself a disciple of Christ, in Groton, his native town, and, according to good testimony, had lived a consistent life while in camp. It was his possession of the "hope which is as an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast," that made him so willing to suffer the penalty of the law, and vanquished his fears of death at the last moment.1

V. A SCENE IN THE LOG CHURCH.

2

A scene which Mr. Alvord mentions as having taken place-in the log-church belongs to this class of our illustrations.

On a certain evening (he says), when we had met there for worship, I was surprised to see the colonel of the regiment enter, and seat himself among the boys on the rude benches. He buried his face in both his hands. The soldiers rose one after another, and spoke of their happy experience in the new life. They declared their purpose to serve God, and requested prayers that others would remember them, that they might not falter, but be strengthened for every trial of faith and courage before them. Erelong, the colonel, to my astonishment, sprang to his feet, his figure tall, soldier-like, imposing. He

1 I have added this statement respecting his religious character from an authentic source.

2 See page 49.

A SCENE IN THE LOG CHURCH.

77

folded his arms upon his broad chest, and began very deliberately to say to the soldiers, "I am here to-night where, as your military commander, I should be; and I am here especially to say to you two things to which I want you to listen. The first is, if I fall in the battle we are about to fight, I want you to remember me, fellow-soldiers, not as a gallant military officer, but as a humble, Christian man.” It seems he had been a member of one of the churches in New York, but after joining the army had not made himself known as a decided follower of Christ. "I want you," said he (dwelling on the same thought), "if I should fall,1 to remember me as a humble Christian. Do not talk of me as a gallant commander, but think of me and speak of me as having died a soldier of the cross. And then," he continued, "fellow-soldiers, there is another thing I want to testify to, and that is, that my men, whom I see here around me in this meeting, are the men whom I have never known to flinch in battle. My eye falls upon the bravest of my regiment to-night."

A rustle was heard through the cabin and a murmur from the boys, as he said this; for their hearts were strengthened by such testimony. And then, after a few more words, he said, "Let us pray;" and he poured out his soul to God for himself, for his fellow-officers, for his regiment, for his country, for the battle to come, and closed with a hearty "Amen!" to which response was

made by all in the house.

1 They were then on the eve of the battle of Fredericksburg in Virginia.

7*

VI. PRAYER IN TIME OF BATTLE.

It is a common saying of the officers (adds Mr. Alvord), that as a class, the men who stand firmest when the battle rages are the Christian men. Many is the time I have talked with them about such scenes, and they have told me that their souls have stood firm in that hour of strife, and that they have been perfectly calm. I have had Christian generals tell me this. I have heard General Howard often say, that in the midst of the most terrific portion of the battle, when his heart for a moment quailed, he would pause and lift up his soul to God, and receive strength. "And,” said he, "I have gone often through battles without a particle of fear. I have thought God sent me to defend my country. I believed it was a Christian duty to stand in the foremost of the fight, and why should I be afraid?"

General Howard, who makes this declaration concerning himself, has shared in nearly all the severest fighting in Virginia and Pennsylvania since the beginning of the war, and bears in his scarred frame marks of his valor, and of hair-breadth escapes from death. No one can surpass him in skill and daring; but his highest title is that of a Christian, which he has maintained without reproach or question in the camp, as well as elsewhere.

The voice of such a man deserves to be heard and regarded, when, as in the following order, he protests against a too common vice in the army. "I have noticed,” he says, "with extreme pain, the use of profane oaths and language among the officers and men of my command. I need not remind any thinking man of the vulgarity and meanness of the practice, nor speak of it as a positive violation of God's law, but will simply appeal to the good sense and better feelings of the members of my command, and urge