J. William Jones, Christ in the camp, or religion in Lee's army

[413] Albert received that moral training which laid a deep and broad foundation for a character, in many respects, worthy of the imitation of all who may read this simple narrative.

In the Sabbath-school Albert first formed the acquaintance of little Jennie, neatly dressed in a white muslin with a blue sash, who afterwards became the beautiful and accomplished Miss S——, whose daguerrotype we found in the soldier's coatpocket. She was the intimate friend of his sister Hattie, and often his successful competitor for prizes offered by the superintendent of the Sabbath-school.

In the year 1856 Albert was sent to college to complete his education, and Jennie went to a ladies' college of high grade to complete her studies.

A few notes that ran the college blockade, and vacation meetings, sufficed to keep up their acquaintance and friendship. In the summer of 1860 they both graduated with honors highly creditable to them and gratifying to their friends. On their return home, early attachments ripened into something more than friendship; but scarcely had the bright vision of hope dawned when it was overcast by the dark cloud of war that suddenly rose upon our horizon. The country called the brave young men from every quarter to rally in Southern prowess, and with battle-shock roll back the invading foe. Albert was one of the first to respond. He took his place in the ranks as a common soldier, feeling it was honor enough to be a private, defending his country, his home, and his beloved Jennie; and all the more, as he had her approving smile to encourage him.

Albert's departure and transfer to Virginia by rail are scenes so common to soldiers that they can be imagined or remembered far better than I could describe them.

There is one incident, however, which I will mention. Just before he took leave, they were all called around the old family altar. Jennie was there. Maum Patty, the nurse of his childhood, was there, with snow-white kerchief about her ebon brow and silver locks. Many were the bitter sobs, while the deep, earnest voice of the father in solemn prayer, like the patriarch Abraham, bound his son, his only son, a sacrifice on his country's altar. When the amen was pronounced, there was in every heart a feeling too deep for utterance. In this moment of silence, a mother's hand placed the Soldier's Bible in a pocket near his heart. Albert moved slowly down the avenue, the embodiment