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 in the ambulance with him he said he believed the wound was mortal. He had grown cold by neglecting his duty, but had tried to be a Christian and lead a better life, and had hope of heaven. June 17. When I began speaking to Mr. White, of the Sixteenth Alabama, today, who was a penitent at the altar during the revival in Lowry's Brigade last month, he said he feared his wound was mortal, and he felt like he was almost lost, but I began to read him selections of Scripture suitable to encourage the penitent, and his faith took right hold of God's promises, and he began to thank God, and to say very softly, “Sweet Jesus.” Then turning his dying eyes on me, he said, “Tell my mother I am prepared to meet my God in peace.” June 22. To-day talked with Brother Coffee, who is dying of his wounds, brother of Rev. Mr. Coffee, Cumberland Presbyterian Church—he is ready for his discharge. To-day General Hooker's Corps attacked General Hood's, and was handsomely repulsed, but Stevenson's Division lost heavily, especially Brown's Brigade and Fifty-fourth Virginia Regiment. I stayed with Rev. Atticus G. Haygood, who has been with us at Marietta for some time. June 23. Chaplain Porter and I leave together. The Court-House is Stevenson's Division Hospital. The wounded cover the floor, which is wet with human gore. I spoke to C. L. Langston, Company D, Twentieth Alabama Regiment, shot through the breast. He said, “If I die I feel that I will go home to heaven.” Went to the hall of the Griffin, Georgia, Relief Committee; some one said a minister had just died. I found out directly that it was Lieutenant Cornelius Hardin, Thirtyfifth Mississippi Regiment. He and his brother were sitting side by side eating their dinner together in the trenches when the same shell severed the leg of one and the arm of the other. The young preacher, who had been very recently ordained by Bishop Paine, if I mistake not, while on furlough to his home in North Mississippi, said in dying, “God has always been with me, and is with me now.” Perry, his brother, was hopeful of recovery, and said to me, “Pray for me specially that I may get well to support my poor widowed mother and sisters.” But he was not afraid to die. He wished all his mother's family to live so that they should finally live in heaven. Cornelius and Perry Hardin “were lovely and pleasant in their lives and in death they were not divided.” We buried them side by side in their soldier blankets in a beautiful grove of oaks near where they left earth for heaven. I wrote their mother and sisters of their last hours and resting place, dreading to receive a reply. But when the missive came it breathed so much “sweetness out of woe” and faith and hope in God and the reunion in heaven that I thanked God that there are such noble mothers to testify that God's grace is sufficient to sustain in the greatest trials on earth. The same day I looked upon Colonel Cook, Thirty-second Tennessee, who lay alone under a fly with a mortal wound. Colonel Walker, Third Tennessee, also is dying. Both of these brave men testify that they are resigned to death. How much good grew out of the great revival in their brigade a few weeks ago God only knows. Atlanta, July 20. Heavy artillery firing. Severe loss in the brigades of Featherston, Scott, Reynolds' Arkansas and Stephens' Georgia. General Stephens severely wounded. I talked with a soldier, Fifty-third Alabama Cavalry, horribly mangled. His parents not religious, and he has made no profession, but is praying, and says he trusts in God for salvation. How hard to instruct those in religious truth that have had no home training! Ed. Stafford, a nice, bright-eyed boy of nineteen years of age, from Springfield, Arkansas, mortally wounded, confessed that he had been a wild boy, but he said, “Pray for me, and write to my mother that I was a faithful soldier to the last.” He praised God after I read the Fifty-first Psalm, and prayed for his salvation. East Point, near Atlanta, Georgia, July 25, at 3 P. M. I was called to see Lieutenant
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