Page:Confederate Military History - 1899 - Volume 12.djvu/195

Rh anything wrong, or done anything wrong, won't you forgive me?" The afflicted parents could only weep their assent. "Now, father," continued the boy, "one thing more. Don't stay here with me, but go back to the camp. Mother will take care of me, and your services are more necessary in your company than they are at home. I am not afraid to die, and I wish I had a thousand lives to lose in the same way. And, father, tell the boys when you get back how I died just as a soldier ought to. Tell them to fight the Yankees as long as there is one left in the country, and never give up! Whenever you fill up the company with new men, let them know that besides their country there's a little boy in heaven who will watch them and pray for them as they go into battle." After describing a revival of great interest, deep power, and large results in the army of Tennessee, a chaplain writes:

But soon came the order to march; the chapel and the snug cabins were exchanged for the drenched and dreary bivouac, and the sound of the gospel of peace for the notes of whistling minies and bursting shells. In the battle and in the hospital, the genuineness of those army conversions was fully tested. In the terrible campaign that followed, whenever the smoke of battle cleared away and the weary men had a little rest, they gathered their shattered but undaunted cohorts, and, with renewed zeal, and with love tested in the fire of war, repledged their faith to each other. Lying behind the strong barrier of the Chattahoochee river for a few days, these Christian soldiers built a brush arbor and beneath it many souls were born of God. Dying, these noble men of the South gave testimony to the power of Divine grace. "Can I do anything for you?" said the missionary, kneeling by the side of a private, shot through the neck. "Yes; write to my poor wife." "What shall I write?" "Say to my dear wife, it's all right." This was written. "What else shall I write?" "Nothing else, all's right." And thus he died. He was a convert of the camp.

"Passing through a large stable where the wounded lay," says Mr. Redding, "I noticed a man whose