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“I turned,” he says, “to catch the words. I saw one form bent over another, prostrate on the grass, until the lips of the suppliant nearly touched the pale face of the sufferer. ‘Oh, precious Redeemer!’ he said, ‘we thank Thee for Thy abounding grace, which of late brought him from the ways of folly and sin to know and love Thee, and that now makes this dark hour the brightest of his life. Be Thou graciously with him to the end. Mercifully pour into the hearts of his dear ones at home the balm of Thy love and, sweetly resigning them to Thy will, bring them all at last to meet him in heaven.’ The prayer was ended. ‘Amen,’ murmured the faded lips. The chaplain recognized me and gave me an introduction to the dying man. ‘I trust you are a Christian, my friend,’ said I, ‘and that even now you are resigned and happy.’ ‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘I entered the army a wicked man, but I must tell you now of the influence of a good sister. Will you please unroll my knapsack, sir, and get me a letter lying on my clothes? I wish you to read it to me. I have often read it, but you will be so kind as to read it to me now.’ I obeyed. The touching appeal for patriotism and piety, especially the entreaties for the latter, couched in all the tender sentiments of a sister's love, evoked frequent ejaculations of prayer that ‘God would reward and bless her forever.’ ‘Oh, sir,’ he said, ‘her precious letters have proven my salvation. Thank God for such a sister.’ Soon after the manly form lay cold and stiff on the ground, and the spirit, leaving the impress of its rapture on the upturned face, went with the angels to heaven to await the coming of its best beloved.”

Not only the veterans, but the boys, died in faith and glorious hope.

“As I walked over a battle-field,” says a writer,

I found an interesting boy, who was rolled in his blanket and resting his head against a stump. He had been fearfully wounded through the lungs; his breath came painfully, and his broken arm hung helplessly at his side. His lips were pallid from loss of blood, and it seemed as though such pain and exhaustion would quickly wear his life away. I said:

‘My dear boy, you are severely wounded.’

‘Yes; I am going to die.’

‘Would'nt you like to have me write to your mother?’

‘O, yes! do,’ he eagerly said; ‘you will write to her, ’

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