following evening, innumerable
ideas will rush in quick succession on the mind; such as, "For aught my
poor and narrow comprehension can tell, I may to-morrow be summoned
before my Maker?" "How have I spent the life he has been pleased to
preserve to this period? Can I meet that just tribunal?" A man, situated
as I have supposed, who did not, even amid the cannon's roar and the din
of war, experience anxieties approaching to what I have described, may,
by possibility, have the courage of a lion, but he cannot possess the
feelings of a man. In action man is quite another being: the softer
feelings of the roused heart are absorbed in the vortex of danger, and
the necessity for self-preservation, and give place to others more
adapted to the occasion. In these moments there is an indescribable
elation of spirits; the soul rises above its wonted serenity into a kind
of frenzied apathy to the scene before you--a heroism bordering on
ferocity; the nerves become tight and contracted; the eye full and open,
moving quickly in its socket, with almost maniac wildness: the head is
in constant motion; the nostril extended wide, and the mouth apparently
gasping. If an artist could truly delineate the features of a soldier in
the battle's heat, and compare them with the lineaments of the same man
in the peaceful calm of domestic life, they would be found to be two
different portraits; but a sketch of this kind is not within the power
of art, for in action the countenance varies with the battle: as the
battle brightens, so does the countenance; and, as it lowers, so the
countenance becomes gloomy. I have known some men drink enormous
quantities of spirituous liquors when going into action, to drive away
little intruding thoughts, and to create false spirits; but these are as
short-lived as the ephemera that struggles but a moment on the crystal
stream, then dies. If a man have not natural courage, he may rest
assured that liquor will deaden and destroy the little he may possess.

Our two companies were relieved for the night, for the purpose of
resting ourselves and preparing for the ensuing evening's attack. On
this occasion one of our poor fellows was killed by a shot from the
fort, and he was ordered to be immediately buried. When we were about to
leave the trenches we found him still lying there, when the sergeant was
called, and asked by his officer, why he had not been buried, according
to orders. The sergeant, an Irishman, answere