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‘ [202] of womanly face, with hands uplifted and eyes upturned to heaven in reverential prayer for us and our country. And there she stood with outstretched arms until the train carried us out of sight. I thought of Miriam the prophetess—only the hands of one were lifted in praise, of the other in prayer to God. I never shall forget that scene and the deep impression it made upon all. The shout of reckless joy was turned into serious thought, and blessed, I believe, was the influence of that sight on many a brave heart.’

A correspondent writes:

Lynchburg, June 19, 1862.
The last fortnight, during which I have been visiting among the sick and wounded in this place and Liberty, has been spent most agreeably, and I trust most profitably. It is indeed a grateful task to labor for the spiritual and physical good of our brave soldiers who are suffering in the defence of our country— to smooth their pillows, fan their fevered brows and, while thus promoting their bodily comfort, to speak with them of Him who alone can give peace to the soul. The thoughts of the sick are naturally turned to religion, under any circumstances, but a soldier in a hospital, away from home, surrounded by many sick, and seeing men die daily around him, is peculiarly susceptible of good impressions. At least such I have found to be the case. I have never had a proffered tract refused, or an inquiry or remark on the subject of religion ungraciously received. On the contrary, great interest was universally manifested in the theme of which I spoke, and in many instances I was invited to “come again.” Especially by professors of religion was I welcomed. They did not stop to ask me to what denomination I belonged, but they hailed me as one who loved the same Saviour as themselves, and therefore, a friend and brother. More than once these have taken from beneath their pillows copies of God's word, given them by our colporters, and spoken of them as their “best friend and only true counsellor.” In view of all that I have seen, it seems to me, that with the thousands of pale and emaciated forms in the hospitals, with the tens of thousands of sin-sick souls in our camps, a vast responsibility is resting upon the Christians of our State and country. If a surgeon should be filled with remorse to see his patient die for want of attention from himself, how should each Christian, who has not done all he could, feel at each announcement of a soldier's death? And

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