Page images
PDF
EPUB
[merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small][graphic][merged small]

HARD AS STONE. (Continued from page 371.)

H Fritz! Fritz! what will be the end of this? The day after to-morrow you must depart, and soon after will be plunged in the midst

rid of the terrible conTflict. Who knows how it will go with you, whether you will this time escape with your life? And you have not yet reconciled yourself with God; you have not thought it worth the trouble, by a heartfelt repentance, to endeavour to make your peace with Him! Look at the other lads of the place. Not one of them has sunk so low in the sight of God and of men as you have; and yet all of them have gone to church, many have received the Blessed Sacrament, and can now in comfort and confidence leave the rest to God, feeling that whatever He allows must be well. I implore you, dear Fritz, do as they have done. Do not go into the fire before you have repented for your sins and have received the pardon of your God. You marched forth against the Danes, and against the Austrians. Each time the Lord has permitted you to return in safety, perhaps only to leave you time for repentance. The Lord our God is a long-suffering God, but His long-suffering has its limits; when it is exhausted His justice must have its sway. I think that for you the day of longsuffering has passed, unless you now will hear the call of the All-merciful God. I feel as if you would not return from this war uninjured. Oh, then, give your poor mother at least this consolation, to be able to say and to think, "Well, as God wills; his soul, at all events, is safe."

[ocr errors]

that woman's rubbish? I have scarcely got my legs out of bed before you begin your sermons. What do I care about the others? They are all old women, methodists, simpletons. Were they not cowards and softhearted fellows, were they real brave men, whose heads and hearts were in the right place, then they would not with downeast eyes be creeping about in the churches; then they would enjoy themselves for the few days that remain, as I am doing. Besides, don't you remember the proverb, "Ill weeds get no harm?" Haven't you

found its truth? Neither the Danes nor the Austrians did me any harm; these wretched Frenchmen won't do me any, either. And if they did, supposing I was to be shot, what would it matter? You would then be rid of your wicked son, as you often call me; and I-why, I should have ended my life. With the present all is over; as to a future-why, there is none!' With these words he left his mother standing shocked and miserable, and has tened out. As often as Marie tried to speak to him he silenced her-all was in vain. Without being reconciled to God he marched away.

Hard as a stone he went forth to met death!

[graphic]

CHAPTER V.

THE division to which Fritz belonged had entered the enemy's territory, and was expecting hourly to be engaged in some action. It marched onwards till orders were given to halt in a hayfield. The chaplains who accompanied the troops, knowing well that they would soon have to go into fire, made use of this time of rest to speak to the men about the uncertain future, and to urge them to make their peace with Heaven. In many hundreds the soldiers stood round,

When are you going to stop talking forming a circle, in the centre of which were

the clergymen. One of these delivered a solemn, heart-stirring address, and said that if their repentance was a true one, and their resolution to lead a better life firm and honest, then with comfort and confidence they might go to meet their fate, whatever that might be. What devotion these warriors felt for their fatherland-with what fervent piety and quiet, self-sacrificing courage, they knelt down in solemn silence and received the absolution!

Fritz, too, knelt down, but with no weight of penitent sorrow on his soul, not even at this, which might be his last moment to be reconciled to his Father in Heaven; others did it, and he joined, as he afterwards mockingly said, in this superstitious folly. Alas! alas! if Heaven have not mercy on the scoffers!

It was at Gravelotte, where those terrible heights had to be scaled; the German troops were repeatedly driven back, and the batteries hurled death and destruction into the midst of the Prussian ranks. At last the wild, desperate courage of the assailants, was crowned with success; but many, many could no longer join in the shouts of victory which rent the air. Alas! how many an eye was closed in death -how many a merry, youthful soul had fled! Many lay groaning around with shattered limbs, covered with blood and wounds.

Fritz, too, who shortly before had expressed himself so certain that no French bullet was meant for him, lay with a broken leg on the blood-stained soil, trying with his last strength to crawl away out of the He had scarcely gone range of battle. more than a few yards when he sank down senseless near some trees.

Through the great loss of blood he had become senseless. There he lay, the scoffer, forsaken as it seemed by God and man. At last the cold of night restored him to

consciousness. Acute pain and great thirst tormented him; he thought that he must die if help did not soon come. Then he thought of his poor mother, who had spoken to him so seriously, and with almost prophetic spirit had foretold him this fate. It seemed as if repentance would glide into his heart; but the evil one drives the good feeling away again, and with an oath he tries to shake off from him all thoughts of death and the future state.

As well as he is able, he raises himself up and looks around. What a sight! By the gleam of the lanterns which are hovering hither and thither over the plain he beholds the horrors of desolation and death. Dead and wounded, the bodies of horses, shattered weapons, helmets and caps, cover the field. Gladly would he have closed his eyes in order to see no more of this fearful scene! But his looks are riveted on those lights, which are coming now in this now in that direction, for from thence he expects help. They are the bearers of the sick, who, by the light of the lanterns, are visiting the battle-field to search for the wounded. They find him, too. He sees also how a soldier with a red cross on a white arm-band bends over him; then he loses all consciousness. The necessary bandages are put on him, and he is carried on a stretcher to the nearest spot where wounds are attended to. Here his wound is carefully examined, washed, and bound up. He is provided, too, with a ticket, on which is noted the nature of his wound, the result of the examination, and the help which has been given him; then he is sent on to the nearest field-hospital.

(Concluded in our next.)

[graphic][merged small][merged small]
[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]
« PreviousContinue »