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��The Northern Volunteers.

��mere personal valor on the fortunes of an army as manifested in Hooker, had taught the thinking bayonets that cheers ought not to be given on trust. Thenceforward war was looked upon as a business, in which a debt and credit account was to be kept with the commander, and the men were in the habit of looking below mere per- sonal appearance or manner in esti- mating them.

At Antietam a general lingered under shelter while his brigade swept forward under fire. The hard fight- ing old division general advancing, sword in hand, with the front line, under a storm of bullets, when within a few yards of the enemy, perceived the absence of the brigadier. He cried out in a great voice above the

roar of battle, "Where's Gen. .?"

A score of soldiers, turning their faces toward him as they marched, shouted from the ranks, " Behind the hay-stack." The old general roared out an indignant curse, and passed on to meet his death.

If it is true that the American sol- dier was not a creature of impulse, it is also true that it was needless to arouse martial ardor in him in the name of glory or to the beat of mar- tial music. He did not fight for glory, and he did not love the trade of war, but his good name was his stake, and he had enlisted for the war to keep this Union whole ; and for this he faced death, sometimes seriously, sometimes cheerily, often ai'dently, always resolutely.

No finer instance of the calm deter- mination to face death, due to intelli- gent patriotism, was ever seen than at Mine Run, November 30, 1863. Six divisions, numbering over 20,000 men,

��had arrived on the bank of the run at night, and as morning drew near they were drawn up in columns for an as- sault upon the enemy's works in front of them. These works were supposed to be weak and thinly manned, but as the light dawned our soldiers saw a few hundred yards ahead a formid- able line of breastworks surmounting a crest and bristling with cannon. Men were visible everywhere, and the generals of the watchful host were riding to and fro as if preparing to receive the assault. The skirmishers of the two armies were at rest within a few yards of each other upon the unobstructed slope that intervened. They did not fire at each other, but waited for the mighty conflict which impended. Our men were veterans of many battles, not a few of them had been present at Fredericksburg the year before, where an assault no more hopeless than this which they now prepared for had been followed by the recoil of our array, leaving many to perish in the freezing night of a winter's day like that which was now dawning.

They had now piled their knapsacks for freedom in the charge, and as Gen. Warren rode down the line these resolute sons of the North were seen writing their names on slips and pin- ning them on their breasts. This was that their bodies might be recog- nized on the field of battle ! These were soldiers whom it was a high privilege to serve with. Thanks to the unselfish spirit of Gen. Warren, this hopeless assault was not made.

The advantage of rushing on the enemy where the fighting had been done at short range, which the Comte de Paris savs our volunteers had to

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