Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1.
Frank Moore, Ed.

A wonderful Conversion.--The New York Observer of this week, in its report of the daily Fulton street Prayer-meeting, states facts which we presume will be new to a great many readers in this city. The report runs:

One day the meeting was near closing, when a man in the uniform of an officer of the army arose and said: “I cannot let this meeting close without saying a word. I came home from the battle-field at Bull Run injured, and saved from instant death as almost by a miracle. I was in the battle of the 21st of July, and in the thickest of the fight, and such were the circumstances of my escape, that I was led to think on my ways. I have been a wicked man. When there was any wickedness going on, I was sure to be foremost in it. Coming.home wounded, I had time to ask myself why I had been spared. I was struck down by a squad of the:Black Horse cavalry. I never expected to get away alive.”

The witness goes on to relate his religious experience, and implore the prayers of the faithful. The writer says:--

After the meeting, we asked some of the particulars of his peril and deliverance. He said: “I was surrounded by the Black Horse men, and two of them seized me, one on each side laying hold of me, and running at full gallop about half a mile, when both were shot, and fell from their horses dead, A Black Horse man, galloping behind me, gave me a severe blow in the back — intended to kill me — which brought me to the ground. The whole of the troop were on the retreat, and many galloped over me, and I was injured by the hoofs of the horses; but, blessed be God, I was spared.”

“Had you pious parents?”

“The most godly people that ever lived, and I firmly believe I was spared in answer to their prayers, I arose from the ground with that conviction, and I believed I was spared, too, that I might have space for repentance, and become a good earnest Christian, and then and there I resolved to become one, and here I am, hoping in God's mercy,”

“Where did your parents attend church?” we inquired.

“My father and mother were members of the old Garden street Reformed Dutch church.”

“Do you know Jim Irving, of your regiment?”

“What! the old comrade of the worst fighters of the city?--he and Orville Gardner at their head? I guess I know him.”

“What sort of a man is he in the camp?”

“His is the most beautiful Christian character I ever saw. I never saw any thing like it.”

“Does he drink rum?”

“Not a drop.”

“Does he attend prayer-meetings?”

“Always will have one going.”

“Where is he now?”

“In prison at Richmond, because he considered it his duty to stand to the last, and he was taken.”

“Did you know he was accustomed to attend these meetings?”

“I have often heard him speak of these meetings with the profoundest delight. If Jim Irving is not a changed man, I do not know who is. Not a man in the regiment could be found who does not know him and does not believe him to be a Christian.”

James Irving was once a notoriously wicked man in this city and became, by the grace of God, a most interesting Christian--a meek, humble, modest man as to his spirit, but of towering strength as to the mortal part, and, before going to the army, almost daily in the prayer-meeting.--N. Y. Tribune.