I VOL 1
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My Prayer.
Let me not die before I've done for thee
Xj earthly work, whatever it may be:
Call me not hence with mission unfulfilled.
Let me not leave my space of ground untitled.
Impress this truth upon me, that not one
Can do my portion that I leave undone,
For each one in thy vineyard hath a spot
To labor iu for life, and weary not.
Then give me strength all faithfully to toil
Converting barren earth to fruitful soil.
1 long to be an instrument of thine,
To gather worshippers unto thy shrine: ?
To be the means one human soul to save
From the dark terrors of a hopeless grave.
Tet most I want a spirit of content,
To work where'er thou'lt wish my lalx>r spent
Whether at home or in a stranger clime,
la days of joy or sorrow's sterner time.
1 want a spirit passive, to lie still,
And by thy power, to do thy holy will.
And wheu the prayer unto my lips doth rise,
Before a new home doth my soul surprise,
'Let me accomplish some great work for thee,"
Subdue it Lord: let my petition be,
Oh! make me useful in ttys world of thiae,
In ways according to thy will not mine.
Let me not leave Ay space of ground untitled,
Call me not hence with mission unfulfilled;
Let me not die before I've done for thee
My earthly work, whatever it may be.
A German Legend.?There was once
a mother and a child, and the mother
loved this her only child with her whole
heart, and thought she could not live
without it ; but the Almighty sent a great
sickness among the children, which seized
this little one, which lay on its sick bed,
even to death. Three days and three
Alights the mother watched and wept, and |
prayed by the side of her darling child?but I
~ It died. The mother, now left alone in j
the wide world, gave way to the most
violent and unspeakable grief. She ate
nothing and drank nothing, and wept,
wept, wept, three long days and three long
.nights, without ceasing ; calling constantly
H}>on ' her child. The third night, as she
thus sat overcome with suffering, in the
place where her child had died, her eyes
bathed in tears, and faint from grief, the
door softly opened, and the mother started,
lor before her stood her departed child. It
had become a heavenly angel, and smiled
aweetly as innocence, and was beautiful
like the blessed. It liad in its hand a small
cnp that was almost running over, so full
it And the child snoke : ' Oh!
dearest mother, weep no more for me : the
angel of mourning lias collected in this
httie cnp the tears which you have shed
for me. If for me you shed but one tear
more, it will overflow, and I shall have no
more rest in the grave, and no joy in
heaven. Therefore, oh, dearest mother !
weep no more for your child ; for it is well
mid happy, and angels are its companions.'
It then vanished. The mother shed no
more tears, that she might not disturb her
child's rest in the grave, and its joys in
heaven. For the sake of her infant's happiness,
she controlled the anguish of her
heart. So strong and self-saeriticing is a
mothers's love."
Ideas are customers ; you must wait on
them as soon as they come, or they will
* be gone to your rival, who will. However
we may differ concerning the fugitive-slave
hill, let us be unanimous for a fugitivethought
bill. Hurrah for a bill to detect,
apprehend, and hold in custody runaway
thoughts. Seize, then, the fugitives;
chain them in a coffle.
In every noble heart burns a perpetual
thirst for a nobler ; in the fair for a fairer
; it wishes to behold its ideal out of
*' " ' * 1-1 rrlnTlfio/l nr
ltseit in DOClliy presence, ?
adopted form, in order the more easily to
attain to it, because the lofty man can
ripen only by a lofty one, as diamond can
l>e polished only by diamond.
The New York HemhiyrijAx a grim jocularity,
suggests that Gen. Milroy ought
to be tried by a court-martial for leav|
big his wife and daughter in the hands of
P the enemy?" conduct unbecoming a gentleman
and a husband !"
. Choctaw county, in Mississippi, is reported
to have seceded from Secessia.?
.rebels will have to deal with rebellion.
V
i
BEAUFORT, S. C., SATl
The Battle Field at Gettysburg. |
Gettyrburg, Pa., July G, 1863. I
At the time of writing you yesterday I
I had not visited the entire battle-field
which is hereafter to be one of the prouu
spots of our national history. To-day I
have passed from end to end of the whole
Sound where the lines of battle were
awn. The place bears evidence of hav- j
ing been the scene of a fierce straggle.? j
The shocks of those two masses of humanitv,
surging and resurging, the one against
the other, could hardly pass without leaving
their traces in fearful characters. At
Waterloo, at Wagram, and at Jena the
wheat grows more luxuriantly and the
corn shoots its stalks further towards the
sky than before the great conflicts that
rendered those fields famous. The fields
of Gettysburg and Antietam hereafter
shall more bountifully reward the farmer
as he tills the soil, which has been made
richer by the outpoured blood of thousands
of America's sons.
from the town to the battle field.
Passing out of Gettsburg by the Baltimore
turnpike, we come in a few steps to
the entrance of the cemetery. Little of
the enclosure remains save the wicket
gateway, from which the gates have been
torn. The neat wooden fence first thrown
down to facilitate the movement of our
artillery became absorbed for fuel and in
various other uses, as the soldiers made
their camu on the snot.
TRACES OF THE STRUGGLE AT THE CEMBTERY.
Monuments and headstones lie here
and there overturned. Graves, once carefully
tended by some loving hand, have
been trampled by horse's feet until the
vestiges of verdure have disappeared. On
one grave lies a dead artillery horse, fast
decomposing under tlie July sun. On
another lie the torn garments of some
wounded soldier, stained and saturated
with his blood.
POSITION OF CEMETERY HILI^?IT!? IMPORTANCE.
i
The hill on which this cemetery is located
was the centre of our line of battle and |
the key to the whole position. Had the
rebels been able to carry this point they j
would have forced us into retreat, and the
whole battle would have been lost. To
pierce our line here was Lee's gre&t endeavor,
and he threw his best brigades
against it. Wave after wave of living
valor rolled up that slope, only to roll
back again under the deadly lire of oiuand
infantrv Tt. was on tllis hill, i
a little to the right of the cemetfcy, wher^
occurred the charge of the famous Louisiana
Tigers. It was their boast tfftt thej
were never yet foiled in an attempt to take
a battery, but on this occasion they suffered
a defeat and nearly annihilation.
THE BATTLE GROUND BEFORE VS.
From the summit of this hill a large
portion of the battle ground is spread out J
before the spectator. In front gnd at his
feet lies the town of Gettysburg, containing
in quiet times a population of four or
five thousand souls. It is not more than
a hundred yards to the houses in the edge
of the village where the contest with the ;
rebel sharpshooters took place. To the I
left of the town stretches a long valley,
bounded on each side bv a gently sloping
ridge. The crest of each ridge is distant
a good three-fourths of a mile or more
from the other. It was on these ridges
tliat the lines of battle on the second and
third days were formed, the rebel line be
ing on the ridge to the westward. The
one stretching directly from our left hand,
and occupied by our own men, has but
little timber upon it, while that held by
the rebels can boast of several groves of
greater or less extent. In one of these
the Pennsylvania College is embowered, !
while in another is seen the Theological
Seminary. Half way between the ridges j
are the ruins of a large brick building
burned during the engagement, and dotted
about here and there are various brick
and frame structures. Two miles at our
left rises a sharp elevation, known to the I
inhabitants of the region as the Round |
Hill. Its sides are wooded and the forest
stretches from its base across the valley
to the crest of the western ridge,
JRDAY, JULY 18,1863.
THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY
i sj>oken of above, was one of the spots
[ around wliicli the battle raped. Beyond
it was where the First and Eleventh corps
; contended with Ewell and Longstreet on
the first day of the engagement. Afterwards,
finding that the, rebels were too
Strong for them, they fell back and took
np a new position, including this building
in the line. Here the loss was very heavy,
and the seminary shows the fearful nature
of the struggle. Its walls are perforated
with shot am? shell, and the bricks are indented
by numerous bullet marks. Its
windows show the effects of the musketry,
and but little glass remains to shut out
the cold and rain.
ARTIFICIAL DEFENCES.
The line of breastworks continues. From
the centre of our position, far away to the
extreme left, our men threw up hasty defence^,
from which to resist the rebel attack.
Wherever stone fences were found
they were taken advantage of to form a
nart of the line. Where these were not at
baud the rails from fences were heaped up
; and covered slightly with dirt. Where
j these did not ran in the proper direction
I works of earth and trees were thrown up,
j behind which the men were to tight. They
extended nearly to the base of Round Hill
I and into the timber that skirts that elevaj
tion. They were thrown up on Wednesday
night, after the First and Eleventh
had beerf driven btxck through *the town.
It was General Meade's plan to compel
the enemy to make an attack, and for this !
purpose the works were thrown up. At
the same timcxthe rebels were not idle, j
Thej* threw up a line of over four miles I
in length, in some cases constructing it
with great care. For much of the way
their works partake nra>ro of tho natm-o of
permanent defence tlinn they do of a fortification
that is designed to be merely
temporary. It was evidently their supposition
on Wednesday night that they j
could compel us to make the attack. They j
looked for an assault with inferior numbers
upon their armv in a strong position
of their own chbosmg. Their expectations
in this particular were not fulfilled.
EFFECT OF THE %*HITWOKTH PROJECTILE.
Moving still to the left, I found an or
chard in which the lighting appears w nave |
been desperate in the extreme. Artillery
shot had ploughed through the ground in 1
every direction, and the trees did not by
j any means escape the fury of the storm. '
The long balls oT^iron, said by officers
| present to be a modification of the Whitf
worth projectile, lay everywhere scattered.
I The rebels must liave been well supplied |
j with this species df ammunition, and they j
I evidently ussd it with -no sparing hand, j
] At one time I counted twelve of these
bolts lying on a space not fifty feet square,
i I was told that the forest in rear of our
j position was full of these shot that passed
! over our heads in the time of the action.'
The rebel artillery fire has heretofore lieen 1
excellent, but I am told that on the present
occasion it was not accurate. 'Why
i it was so is difficult to explain.
EFFECTS UPON WHEATFIELDS.
I A mile from our central position, on the
I crest of the hill i2t the cemetery, was a
field of wheat, an <> near to it a large tract, J
i on which com was growing luxuriously
! Hpfnrp tbp battle. The wheat was fearfully 1
( trampled by the hurrying feet of the dense >
j masses of infantry as they changed their j
j positions during the battle. In the cornj
field artillery had been stationed, and
changed its position as often as the enemy
obtained its range. Hardly a hill of com
i is left in its pristine luxuriance. The lit- j
tie that escaped the hoof or the wheel, i
as the guns moved from place to place, j
' has since been nibbled off by hungry j
: horses during the nig}it bivouac subse- !
! quent to the battle. Not a stalk of wheat (
i is upright; not a Wade of corn remaining
uninjured ; all has fallen long before the
! time of harvest. Another harvest, in
j which death was the reaper, has been gathi
ered above it. w
s
THE A.S8AI LT OX THE LEFT.
( On the extreme left the pointed summit
of the hill of a thousand feet elevation rises
toward the sky. Beyond it the country
falls off into the mountain region that I
-? v \
>a nf it
7 ' ^ V V Nr
NQ gg
extends to the Potomac and across it into
Virginia. This hill is quite steep and difficlut
of assent, and formed a strong position,
on which the left of our line could
rest. The enemy assaulted this point
with great fury, throwing his divisions
one after another against it. Their efforts
were of no avail. Our men defended
their ground against every attack. It was
like the dash of the French at Waterloo
against the immovable columns of the
English. Stubborn resistance overcome
the valor of the assailants. Time after
! time thev came to the assault only to fall
j back as tliey had advanced. Their final
retreat left the remnant of our men still
standing behind their works. The rebel
dead and wounded were scattered thickly
about the ground. Our own were not
wanting.
STORMED WITH SHOT AND SHELL.
Nearly to the left extreme of our line,
and half way between the crests of the
ridges, stands a neat farm house. Around
I this dwelling the battte raged as around
1 Hougoumout at Waterloo. At one time
it was in the rebel possession, and was
fiercely attacked by our men. The walls
were pierced with shot and shell, many of
j the latter exploding within, and making ?
j of themselves a scene of devastation.?
The glass was shattered by rifle bullets on
every side, and all the woodwork bears
testimony to the struggle. The sharpshooters
were in every room, and added
I to the disorder caused bv the explosion of
j shells. What the missils spared the soldiery
destroyed. The rebels were driven
from the house, and the position was taken
! by our men. They in turn, were dislodged,
but finally took and held the place.
THE REBEL DEAD.
! Retreating my steps before reaching the
extreme left I returned to the centre of
onr position on the Cemetery Hill. I do
not follow the part by which I came, but
take a route along the hollow, between the
two ridges. It was across tliis hollow that
the charges were made in the assaults upon
onr position. Much blood was poured
out between these two swells of land.?
Most of the dead have been buried where *
they fell, or gathered in little clusters beneath
some spreading tree or beside
clumps of bushes. Some of the rebel dead
are still uncovered. The first that meets
jny gaze came upon suddenly, as I de
"scend a bank some tliree or lonr leet in
height, to the side of a small spring. He
is lying near the spring, as if he had
crawled there to obtain a draught of water.
His hands are outspread upon the
earth, and clutching at the little tufts of
grass beneath them. His haversack and
canteen are still hanging to his side, and.
Ins hat is lying near him. His musket is
gone?either carried oft' by his comrads,
taken by some relic seeker, or placed in
the accumulated heap by our soldiers.
ADDITIONAL HORRORS.
The body of another rebel attracted my
attention by a singular circumstance.?
The face is discolored in the extreme,
black as that of the purest Congo negro.
The hands are delicate as that of any lady
and of snowy whiteness. With the exception
of the face, the body is but little
swollen, and there are no signs of decomposition.
Several bodies that I find with
blackened faces, but no others than th s
display such a contrast between the colcr
of the face and hands. Near a small white
house in the rebel line lies an officer, evi
ilentiy a .lieutenant or captain. nis ngnt
arm is extended as if to grasp the hand of
a friend. All possible positions in which
a dying man can fall can be noted on this
field.
ON THE HMMETTSBI RG BOAD.
Reaching the Emmettsburg road I find
the same signs of battle that I have mentioned
elsewhere. The rails are everywhere
scarred hy bullets, the fences
thrown down, the ground cut by the
wheels of the guns and trodden smooth
by the feet of the soldiers. In every place
it is strewed with the wreck of battle. A
shattered gun carriage shows where a
rebel battery stood and received the shot
of our own.
SHELLING GEN. MEADE'S HEADQUARTERS.
The little farm house on the Emmet'sCONTINTED
ON FOURTH PAGE,
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