place. To many of us this little log church was
a sacred place, many a hearty prayer meeting had been held there; many a
rousing hymn, that almost raised the roof, many a good sermon and many a
stirring talk had we heard; many a manly confession had been declared,
many a hearty, impressive service in the solemn Litany of the Church,
read by us, young Churchmen, in turn. To all the Christians of the
Battery (they now numbered a large majority) this church was sacred. To
some, it was very, very sacred, for in it they had been born again unto
God. Here they had been led to find Christ, and in the assemblies of
their comrades gathered here, they had, one after another, stood up and,
simply, bravely, and clearly, witnessed a "good confession" of their
Lord, and of their faith.

So, we all instantly seized on the motion, to gather in the church. A
hymn was sung, a prayer offered for God's protection in the perils we
well knew, we were about to meet. That He would help us to be brave men,
and faithful unto death, as Southern soldiers; that He would give
victory to our arms, and peace to our Country. A Scripture passage, the
91st Psalm, declaring God's defense of those who trust Him, was read.
And then, our "talk meeting." It was resolved that "during the coming
campaign, every evening, about sunset, whenever it was at all possible,
we would keep up our custom, and such of us as could get together,
_wherever we might be_, should gather for prayer."

And, in passing, I may remark, as a notable fact, that this resolution
was carried out _almost literally_. Sometimes, a few of the fellows
would gather in prayer, while the rest of us fought the guns. Several
times, to my _very lively_ recollection we met _under fire_. Once, I
remember, a shell burst right by us, and covered us with dust; and,
once, I recall with _very particular_ distinctness, a Minie bullet
slapped into a hickory sapling, against which I was sitting, not an inch
above my head. Scripture was being read at the time, and the fellows
were sitting around with their eyes open. I had to _look_ as if I had as
lieve be there, as anywhere else; but I _hadn't_, by a large majority. I
_could_ not dodge, as I was sitting down, but felt like drawing in my
back-bone until it telescoped.

But, however circumstanced, in battle, on the battle line, in interims
of quiet, or otherwise, we held that prayer hour nearly every day, at
sunset, during the entire campaign. And some of us