THE battle was at its height. A thick cloud of smoke hung like a funeral pall over the contending armies. The roar of artillery was perfectly deafening. The day wore away, and the evening drew on. As the cool night wind blew over the battlefield, and the golden glow yet lingered in the west, the air was filled with the groans of the wounded and dying.
As departing souls were passing into eternity, and many a wounded soldier was praying for death to call him away, a small party of men were picking their way amidst the weltering heap of corpses. The burden, which they were carrying, was a wounded comrade. " Put me down," said he; " do not take the trouble to carry me farther. I am dying, comrades! Hark! the bugle sounds the charge; put me down." Unwillingly they did so, and returned to the ranks. A few minutes, which must have seemed hours to the sufferer, passed, and an officer came that way, and seeing the poor fellow, he stopped and said kindly, " Can I do anything for you? '
" Nothing, thank you, sir," said the poor sufferer, striving to raise his hand to the salute.
" Shall I get you a little water? " continued the kind-hearted officer, touched more than he liked to show.
" No, thank you, sir; I am dying."
" Is there nothing I can do for you? Shall I write to your friends, or send any message to tell them of your death? "
The tears stood in the soldier's eyes. " I have no friends, sir, that you can write to. And yet there is one thing for which I should be much obliged. In my knapsack here, sir, under my head, you will find a Testament. Will you open it at the 14th Chapter of John, and near the end of the Chapter you will find a verse that begins with ' Peace '? Will you read it? "
The officer stooped down, and with trembling fingers opened the knapsack.' He took out the well-worn Testament and searched for the Chapter. His eye lighted on the verse. He glanced at the dying man; the light of faith and hope gleamed in that upturned face. The officer turned aside to hide a tear. That bright hope, which buoyed up the soldier, reminded him of the last moments of his own mother. He looked again at the verse, it was the very one which her dying lips had repeated-and here, amidst the roar of artillery and the din of war, he must read those solemn words. He steadied his voice, and read:
" PEACE I LEAVE WITH YOU, MY PEACE I GIVE UNTO YOU: NOT AS THE WORLD GIVETH, GIVE I UNTO YOU. LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED, NEITHER LET IT BE AFRAID."
The reading of that verse scarcely occupied a minute of time; yet the thoughts of both reader and listener roved over years long passed away. The dying soldier was far from the battlefield, and again in the little village where he had passed his boyhood. How well he could remember his dear pastor, long gone to that home to which he was following him. Soon the soldier would meet his friend in heaven, and would be able to tell him how he-the roughest and wildest boy in the village, over whom that pastor had shed many a tear, and for whom he had often prayed-had been brought by the Good Shepherd into the true fold. Such was the picture which filled the soldier's soul as he looked back. As he looked forward, the glory dazzled him; bright angels seemed pressing around him; Jesus looking down; the battlefield seemed far away, as the loving voice he knew so well-that of his Savior and his God-whispered, " COME UP HITHER."
And what of the officer? The words of Jesus rang from his lips-those lips which had not read a verse from the Word of God for many a long year, and he thought of that mother, whose hope had been in the Lord, and whose death he could never forget. He remembered the long course of years since-how the memory of her counsel had faded away, how he had joined in the laugh and sneer against the Word of God, which he now held in his hand, and had often declared " that soldiers had nothing to do with religion; no time to attend to their souls "-and yet here he was, on the battlefield, with the despised New Testament in his hand, reading to a dying man. What would his gay and infidel companions say could they see him thus? A feeling of shame filled his soul and burnt in his cheek. But it passed away as he looked on the dying man, and saw that his heart was full, not of a " fearful looking for of judgment," but of " joy and peace in believing."
" How strange it is," thought he, " there must be something which I do not know in a religion like this." The officer, as he looked agaii on the radiant face, thought, " Well, a religion, which can make a man smile joy as he lies on the cold ground on a battlefield in the agonies of death, is a religion worth having."
The dying man raised himself on his elbow, and gazed at the officer as if reading his thoughts. Thank you, sir," said he,
" I HAVE THAT PEACE; I AM GOING TO THAT SAVIOR.
God is with me. I want no more. Keep it, sir," he continued, his voice sinking so low that his listener had to bend down his ear to his lips, " keep the Testament; it led me to Jesus, it will lead you." The spasm of death caught his voice, and fluttered across his face, and he fell heavily back into a pool of blood.
The young officer placed the book in his breast pocket as he hastened to rejoin his regiment.
If I am spared," said he, " I will know this peace for myself."
The soldier was safe in Christ, and so now is the officer. A small gravestone stands on the battlefield, with the name and regiment of a private soldier. It was put up by an officer high in command, who keeps that grave sacredly, and on it are carved the words,
" HE ASKED LIFE OF THEE, AND THOU GAVEST IT HIM, EVEN LENGTH OF DAYS Forever AND EVER."