The call of Virginia now echoes through the land—from seaboard to mountain-valley, from Alleghany to Chesapeake, from the Potomac to the North Carolina border, the tramp of her sons is heard.
Maryland, the Carolinas, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana, Missouri and Texas catch the sound, and her sons in every clime heed the call of their Mother State.
The farmer leaves his plow in the furrow, the mechanic his job unfinished, the merchantpanoplied for the war. The self-denial of volunteers to serve in this war is unmistakably manifest in the advent among us of Southern soldiers.
The gallant South Carolinians came first.
Close on their rear came the Georgians; and we hear that Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana are on the way. To cap the climax, we hope soon to see Jefferson Davis on the hills of Richmond.
But my main object in penning these lines was to speak briefly of the Georgians.
At least three of the companies alread
en. It was a touching scene to see the stern veteran of many a hard-fought field, who would not hesitate to enter the deadly breach or charge the heaviest battery, trembling under the power of Divine truth, and weeping tears of bitter penitence over a misspent life.
This was the thirty-first day of the meeting, and up to this time there had been one hundred and twelve public professions of conversion, while there were upwards of a hundred still seeking the way of life.
Brother Carroll, of Alabama—missionary of our Domestic Mission Board—has been assisting in the meetings, and has baptized already about twenty-five, while others are awaiting the ordinance.
Most of the rest have connected themselves with other denominations.
Brother Owen, under whose direction the meetings have been conducted, is a real, whole-souled, working chaplain, and I only wish we had many more such.
That night the brigade (Barksdale's) received marching orders, but Brother Owen persisted that the Lord woul