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THE CHRISTIAN SOLDIER 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 COMMEMORATIVE OF THE DEATH 
 
 ABRAM C. CARRINGTON. 
 
 *'Be of good >sourage and let us play tho men for our people, and for the cities of 
 our God: and the Lord do that which sccmcth him good." — II Samuel x: 12. 
 
 PREACHED AND rUBLISHED BY OIIDER OF THE SESSION OF COLLEGE CHUUCII, DEC. 1862, 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT L. DABNEY, D. D. 
 
 RICHMOND, VA: 
 
 1863. 
 

 SERA'IO^. 
 
 <'Be of good courage and let us play the man for our people, and for the cities of our 
 God: and the Lord do that which soernetli him good." — II Samut.l x: 12. 
 
 The 'duties of patriotism are not prominently urged in Sacred Scrip- 
 ture. This we account for, not by supposing, . with a certain sickly 
 school of moralists, that this sentiment is selfish, narrow, or inconsistent 
 with the broadest philanthropy ; but by the facts, that the obligations of 
 the citizen are not directly religious, and that they are so natural as to 
 require little inculcation. The Hebrew scriptures do indeed say enough, 
 as in the text, to justify an intense love of native land and its institu- 
 tions. Civil government is God's ordinance, and if it be just, one of 
 his greatest temporal ble<sing>^. The diversity of tongues, characters, 
 races, and interests among mankind, forbid their union in one universal 
 commonwealth. The aggregation of men into separate nations is there- 
 fore necessary ; and the authority of the governments instituted over 
 them, to maintain internal o-der and^xternal defence against aggres- 
 sion, is of divine appointment. Hence, to sustain our government with 
 heart and hand, is not only made by God our privilege, but our duty. 
 Our best way to advance the well-being of the race, is to advance tha^ 
 of the portion of our race associated with us in the same society. He 
 who extends his philanthropy so broadly, as to refuse a special attach- 
 ment to the interests of his own people, will probably make it so thin, 
 as to be of no account to any people.' 
 
 I therefore believe that there is nothing opposed to an enlightened 
 Christianity, in a warm patriotism for our particular country. This;feel- 
 ing is made up of several elements : a legitimate regard for our own 
 welfare and worldly estate, interest in that of our families, and a wider 
 benevolence towarch our fellow-citizens ; together with an honest pride 
 in the glories of our history, and in the justice of our institutions, with 
 the attachment of local affection to the very scenery and soil of our 
 native land. 
 
 394G()Ji 
 
1 
 
 The text expresses this sentiment in action against the unrighteous 
 assailant of our country. It was uttered by one who was very far from 
 being a friend of God at heart, the haughty and violent Joab, the mur- 
 derer of Abner, the patron of the dissolute Absalom, the chieftain who 
 closed his stormy career by bringing his hoar}^ head at last to the block 
 for treason against his master's chosen successor. But Joab was now 
 the lawfully appointed general of Israel : although not a child of God, 
 he was probably a sincere patriot ; and his unsanctified lips, like those 
 of Balaam, were now employed by God to utter words of truth and duty. 
 We regard the text then, as <jod's command, not because it was spoken 
 by Joab, but because his language is virtually sanctioned by the Holy 
 Ghost, in the general tenor of the narrative, and the issue of the trans- 
 action. The Ammonites, after publicly affronting King David's ambas- 
 sadors without provocation, had hired a multitude of pagan Syrians, and 
 were threatening to desolate the land of the Hebrews. Joab went to 
 meet them, and after making the most prudent disposition of his forces, 
 exiiorted them: "Be of good courage," tc. 
 
 Unprovoked v>^ar is the most monstrous secular crime that can be com- 
 mitted : it is at once the greatest of evils, and includes the worst forms 
 of robbery and murder. Wherever war is prompted by mere pique, or 
 lust of aggrandisement, or ambition for fame and power, it deserves all 
 that can be said of its mischiefs and criminality by the most zealous 
 advocates of peace. And nothing can rescue a people waging war, from 
 this guilt, except the fact that their appeal to arms is necessary for the 
 flefence of just and vital rights^ But while the Scriptures teach this, 
 they giye no countenance to the weak fanaticism, which commands gov- 
 ernments to practice a passive non-resistance, in suck a world as this. 
 Nations are usually unjust and unscrupulous. The very fact that they 
 are politically sovereign, implies that there is no umpire between them, 
 except Divine Providence. A passive attitude would usually only provoke, 
 instead of disarming attack. Hence its only effect would be to bring all 
 the horrors and desolations of in^"asion upon the innocent people, while 
 the guilty went free. God has therefore both permitted and instructed 
 rulers, when thus unjustly assailed, to retort these miseries upon the as- 
 sailants who introduce them. The very fact that all war is so terrific a 
 scourge, and that aggressive war is such an enormous crime, only makes 
 it more clear that the injured party are entitled to their redress, and 
 are justified in inflicting on the injurers such chastisement as will com- 
 pel their return to justice, even including the death and ruin which they 
 were preparing ngain&t their inoffensive neighbours. 
 
it is perfectly clear that Sacred Scripture legalizes such defensive 
 Avar. Abram, Moses. Joshua, Samuel, David, Josiah, the Maccabees, 
 were such warriors : and ihej w^ere God's chosen saints. It was ^'through 
 Jaith they waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the 
 -aliens." Heb. 11: 31. God fought for and with them by giving, in 
 their battles, answers to their prayers, and miraculous assistance to their 
 arms. Under the New Testament, when Christ's forerunner was preach- 
 ing the baptism of repentance, he did not enjoin on soldiers the surren- 
 der of their profession as sinful, but only the restricting of themselves 
 to iis lawful duties. The New Testament tells us of a Centurion, aftec- 
 tionately commended by our Redeemer as possessed of "great faith;" 
 and of a Cornelius, who was "accepted with God, as fearing him and 
 working righteousness." Luke, 3: 14. 7: 9. Acts, 10: 35. The 
 Apostle Paul, Rom. 13: 4, tells us that the magistrate "beareth not the 
 sword in vain ; for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute 
 wrath upon him that doeth evil." It would be strange indeed, if the 
 ruler who is armed by God with the power of capital punishment against 
 the domestic murderer, could not justly inflict the same doom on the for- 
 • eign criminal, who invades our soil unprovoked, for the purpose of shed- 
 ding blood. The security of life and property which the magistrate is 
 intended to provide by his power of punishing, would be illusory indeed, 
 if it Qould only bo used against individual criminals, while the more mis- 
 chievcms and widespread crimes of organized multitudes must go un- 
 punished. Aggressive war is wholesale murder ; and when the govern- 
 ment sends out its army to repel and ^hastise the invader, it does but 
 inflict siunmary execution on the murderer caught in the act. 
 
 I have briefly stated this truth, yi order to ground firmly your belief 
 in the righteousness of the calling of the christian soldier. God has 
 authorized him. The objects for which he contends arc excellent, noble, 
 yea of supreme temporal value: "for oui; people and for the cities of 
 our God." Our homes and the shelter of our families, the rio-hts be- 
 queatlied to us by our ancestors, the whole earthly' welfare of us and all 
 our fello»-citizens, every thing which is included as valuable in the 
 words, my country, is committed to his protection. And how much that 
 phrase includes, he can appreciate, who, as a conquered exile, has no 
 country : we could understand in part lately, when we began to fear that 
 this fate might be^ours. The godly soldier is called to defend also, the 
 far dearer interests of the church of God, involved in so many ways 
 with those of the country in which it is planted. He protects all these 
 
 ^UAan'ji 
 
precious objects by the exercise of the noblest attributes of manhood, 
 courage, self-devotion, faith in God. 
 
 The glory of the soldier's prowess has alwflys inflamed the admira- 
 tion, and dazzled the fancy of mankind, above all other greatness. To 
 the warrior who has done acts of high emprise on the bloody field, have 
 ever belonged the loudest shouts of popular applause. The multitudes 
 throng his chariot wheels as those of no other benefactor. His name is 
 written highest on the monumental marble. The heart of ingenuous 
 youth thrills more warmly as he reads his exploits than at all the other 
 marvels of history, and even tender woman reserves for him her sweetest 
 smiles: "And loves him for the dangers he has passed." Let not the 
 pseudo-philanthropist say that this universal, this resistless impulse of 
 the popular heart is merely an irrational remnant of the more bloody 
 and ruthless ideas ot Paganism, or a gust of the fancy fevered by the 
 romance 
 
 'Of moving accidents bj flood and field, 
 Of hairbreadrh 'scapes i'th' imminent deadly breach;" 
 
 that it is unworthy of the benevolence and knowledge of a christian age; 
 that the admiration of men should rather be bestowed.on those who bless 
 by the gifts of science, and the exertions of our nobler part, the mind, 
 than on those who are eminent only for their power to destroy ; that he 
 who has " made two blades of grass to grow where but one gi'ewb^ore," 
 or who has helped to civilize his fellows by invention in the arts orpeace, 
 or the lessons of high philosophy, should be the true hero ; and not he 
 who exhibits the might of a mere animal rage to devastate and degrade. 
 It is true that, if this admiration of the military virtues is bestowed 
 on the hirelings, the mere soldier of fortune, or the scourge of nations, 
 who, like "Macedonia's madman or the Swede," fights from the lust of 
 fame and power ; it is a monstrous perversion. But the great instincts 
 of the human heart and reason never go totally astray. These per- 
 verted instances would not occur, unless thore were a true military glory, 
 to blind men as to the black deformity of its counterfeit. This univer- 
 sal applause of the martial virtues is the instinctive testimony* of man's 
 heart to the fact, that they require the exercise of the noblest sentiments 
 of the human soul. He who cultivates the arts of peace does, indeed, 
 make a worthy contribution to the well-being of his fellow-men : but he 
 who defends them with his life, makes the contribution of supreme value. 
 He maintains that peace and securit}^, which are the necessary condi- 
 tions for enjoying all other aquisitions. But for his protection, it would 
 
be of no avail to the citizens, that the two blades of grass grew for every 
 one that grew before, when all were trampled down by the ruthless in- 
 vader. Nor is it true that the exploits of tlie soldier are merely those 
 of the brute muscle and sinew, and of animal courage. War, and es- 
 pecially modern war, is not an unreasoning art ; but it is a profession,, 
 requiring, especially in its leaders, the widest combinations of the ele- 
 ments of thought, the most sleepless reflection, and most rapid sagacity. , 
 
 But the true glory of the christian soldier is in this, that he is called 
 to the noblest exertions of the emotions and the will. And even if his 
 occupation were contrasted with those of the civilian and the philoso- 
 pher, as being non-intellectual, which we have denied, the moral senti- 
 ments which actuate his exertions, justify the exalted admiration of his 
 fellow-men. For the heart is nobler, wiser, greater, than the head. 
 The speculations of the head are cold, and devoid of m.oral trait. It is 
 the impulses of the heart which characterize man as a moral being. To 
 love is better than to analyze. To will magnanimously is more noble 
 than to invent. Disinterestedness is more excellent than ingenuity, 
 and courage for the right is grander than talent. If a man go upon the 
 battle field in foolish forgetfulness of his duty and danger, if he is bold, 
 merely because he refuses to think ; if he rushes forward only with the 
 senseless fury of the bull maddened by the trumpet, and 
 " His courage dwells butiu a troubled flood, 
 Of mounting spirits and fermenting blood;" 
 
 if he is moved by no moral appreciation of the cause for which he 
 stakes his life ; he is not brave ; his phrensy is not true courage ; he is 
 not the man of whom we speak, how^ever he may sometimes intrude him- 
 self into his honour. 
 
 But let us suppose the christian may, who wholly prefers peace and 
 its joys to the turmoil of war, w^ho considers all his risk, and weighs 
 well the preciousness of the home, the life, and the love, from which a 
 violent death would tear him, but who yet foregoes those dear delights 
 of peace, and deserts that home and its loves, for a time, and 
 jeopards life itself, reluctantly, yet vath determination ; because he finds 
 that duty J dearer than peace, and home and life, demands the sacrifice. 
 This is he who " is of good courage, and plays the man for his people, 
 and for the city of his God." And I assert this christian courage is 
 but another name for self-sacrifice. It does but postpone self to duty, 
 and to the good of others. Its spirit is precisely that of the martyr, 
 who yields up his life rather than be recreant to duty, to his church, 
 and to his God. It expresses the same disinterestedness,, the same con- 
 
8 
 
 secrution to the sentiment of obligation, the same faith in God. I be- 
 lieve that in many a soldier -who is now baring his breast as a bulwark 
 for our rights, this determination is as true a work of the grace of God, 
 as was ever fulfilled in the christian martyr, when he embraced the stake 
 rather than deny his lord. Yes, this courage, I assert it v,ith reverence, 
 is, in the true, christian soldier, but the reflection in his humbler 
 measure, of the spirit with which his Divine Master set his face stead- 
 fastly towards Jerusalem, and calmly braved the baptism of fire which 
 awaited him there. He is the vine ; they the branches. He the noblest 
 exemplar of true moral courage, they the feebler reflectors of his spirit, 
 in their lower spheres. It was this magnanimous sacrifice of Christ 
 which purchased for him the throne of universal dominion, and filled 
 all heaven v/ith the acclaim of angels and ransom.ed saints. Shall v>'G 
 not then pay to his followers, when for their humbler imitation of his 
 self-devotion, they die for their people and the city of their God, 
 the best tributes of our earthly afi'ections ? Such, I believe, was the 
 courage of our Brother, prompted indeed by a chivalrous and honorable 
 nature, but regulated and sustairTed by the grace of God derived from 
 the example and spirit of Christ his head. 
 
 The temper of the christian soldier is also one of high faith, and 
 profound submission to God. While he plays the man for his people, 
 and the cities of his God, he adds : " And the Lord do that which scem- 
 eth him good." Here is a recognition of the overruling Providence of 
 God, in the fate of commonwealths and the decision of battles. Here 
 is expressed a hearty confidence in the wisdom, goodness, and justice of 
 the event which God may ordain, and acquiesce in His decisions. There 
 is here no senseless fatalism, dissevering the appointed means from the 
 desired end, and reposing in vain confidence, or supine despair. Eut 
 the truth is recognized that "duty is ours, events are Gods." Every 
 nerve is strained to perform the task alloted by the providence of the 
 hour, manfully, and if in its performance death or defeat is met, it is 
 well. The christian accepts this result as a revelation of the fact that 
 this was the hour, and this the place appointed by God for his end ; and 
 that, therefore, no other hour and place can be so suitable. He feels 
 that if duty be courageously done, ail else will be secure. He may die, 
 but the cause of his country is immortal ; the blood with which he en- 
 riches her soil becomes to his fellow-citizens a new argument of the pre- 
 ciousness of the cause in which it was shed ; and a sacred pledge to 
 persevere in it to the end. Thus the blood of our country's martyrs 
 becomes the seed of our new armies. The dying patriot achieves more 
 
9 
 
 for her by his death than by all his life, and lays down his sword at the 
 gates of the tomb, in the triumphant assurance, that a people contending 
 for their right in the fear of God, will be made invincible by His aid. 
 He leaves the family for whose home he was fighting. But his God and 
 a grateful country become their guardians in his place. ^'I have been 
 young," says the Psalmist, "and now am old, yet have I not seen the 
 righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread." Life is ended ; but it 
 is to begin a better life in heaven. Matthew 10 : 39. " He that loseth 
 his life for Christ's sake, shall find it." 
 
 Death, and especially, vrhat men call a premature death, must ever 
 be regarded by us as a natural evil. If I should profess to be, myself, or 
 should demand of you, to be insensible to it, you would justly consider me 
 as guilty of cant. The very instincts of man's animal nature abhor it, and 
 his earthly affections shudder at the severance which it effects betweSi 
 them and their dear objects. So, the death of friends cannotbut be a 
 felt bereavement to survivors, be its circumstances what they may. But 
 it has ^ver appeared to me that in the fall of the christian soldier in 
 battle, there was more to mitigate the stroke, and to overcome death by 
 the victory of triumphant consolation, than in any other by which the- 
 good man meets his fate. The unreflecting may be startled by this as- 
 sertion. They think of all the externals of a death on the battle field ; 
 of the ghastly forms in which the destroyer comes, of the corpse prone 
 upon its mother earth, begrimed perhaps with the sweat, and dust of the 
 conflict ; of the burial to which he is taken fresh and gory from the 
 field, his breast unconfined by coffin or winding-sheet, and shrouded only 
 in his martial cloak ; and of the nameless grave where he sleeps alone 
 in his blood. All this is pictured in contrast with the solemn decencies 
 of those funeral rites which affectio^i renders, in more peaceful seasons, 
 with a sort of mournful delight. They afflict themselves with the 
 thought that no friend was near to minister to his pangs, no saintly man 
 of God to calm the agitation of his soul by his prayers, no mother or 
 wife to receive his last farewell ; but his dying groans found no echo 
 but the thunders of the receding battle. 
 
 AVell: all these tilings arc true; too often, alas, have I seen them 
 verified: but they are true as elements of pain only to the survi- 
 vors. The dying hero feels them not. Here is our allusion; that 
 we cheat our sorrow into the belief that these ministrations of 
 affection reach the insensible clay ; when in truth, they only solace 
 our own bereaved affection. Death is always a solitary struggle. How- 
 ever we may be sm-rounded by friends, when the shadow of the great 
 
10 
 
 agony falls upon us, it shuts us out like a dark veil from their aid, and 
 we must meet the last enemy alone. And however the neglect of the 
 beloved remains may harrow the feelings of those who loved him, the 
 departed is all unconscious of it. On the other hand is it nothing, that 
 he is translated to his rcAvard by a sudden and painless stroke ? He 
 feels one electric shock, as the deadly missile smites him, and then, the 
 very capacity for pain is benumbed, and awakes no more, till he awakes 
 in that world where pain is unknown. He has no share in the long tor- 
 tures of wearing sickness, or the mortifying decay of age : he feels none 
 of the anxious forebodings, the hope deferred waning into sickening 
 despair, by which the more peaceful bed of disease is haunted. Death 
 casts none of its shadows before. But in place of all this, there is the 
 calm testimony of a good conscience, the elation of the manly soul 
 nerving its noblest powers for duty, the tumultuous rapture of those 
 powers in highest action, the generous emulation, the hope of triumph, 
 the joy of victory. And in the midst of this exaltation of soul comes 
 the sudden stroke, and death is finished almost before it is felt, v Such 
 an end is not a death ; it is a translation. Shall the bereaved count it 
 no compensation for their loss too, that the warmest instincts of every 
 man's soul declare the glory of the soldier's death ? There is solace in 
 this, yea more than consolation, there is proud triumph in it. And it is 
 a triumph not unworthy of the christian heart. It is even more appro- 
 priate to us, than it was to the Greek, to sing 
 
 '• Glorious his f;\te, and envied is his lot, 
 Vrho for his country fights, and for it dies." 
 
 For we contend not only for the lawful interests of home and country, 
 but for the more precious and sacred cause of God, and of souls. I am 
 not one of those who hold, that these sentiments are the birth only of pagan 
 ferocity, or unholy pride. The principles of personal honour, and the love 
 of glory have been perverted among us, into a code of wickedness and 
 bloody retaliation, [for which we now doubtless suffer the chastisement 
 of an offended God]. Fi-om this abuse, a spurious and debased puri- 
 tanism has taken occasion to decry all such sentiments, until they seem 
 to be vanished from among them ; and the vileness of public morals 
 which is the consequence of this extreme,' has become as loathesome as 
 the other was violent. But there is a true glory, and a true honour, that 
 which Cometh from God and not from man ; the glory of duty done, of 
 obstacles overcome, of fears resisted, and of generous sacrifices made to 
 a worthy cause , the honour of an integrity of principle, stronger than 
 the sense of pain or the fear of death. He deserves most of this honor 
 
11 
 
 who, from pure motives, braves 'the direst evik^ ^iid pays the costliest 
 sacrifice for the noblest object. What fear can be darker than that of 
 death ? What more precious than life ? AVhat object more worthy than 
 the cause of our country and our God ? In attuning our souls so as to 
 make them thrill at the applause of our fellows, our Creator doubtless 
 assigned to this affection some legitimate scope. Its lawful exercise is 
 found, when we seek the approbation of the good and wise, which is but 
 the echo of the Divine verdict "well done, good and faitlttul servant." 
 Such applause, when nobly won, is valuable; it is ennobling. It is an 
 inheritance of honour to the children who emulate the virtues that won it. 
 Is there one who " hath the stomach and mettle of a man," that would not 
 rather leave his sons freemen, enriched o]dy with this heritage, won for 
 them by a father's blood, than wealthy slaves ? And is there a true 
 woman, who would not elect, heart-rending as it might be to make the 
 election, to be the widow of such a christian hero, than to live in the 
 embraces of a dishonored and abject m.an, the serf of despots? 
 
 The doctrine tshich I have now drawn, as I believe from the word of 
 God, finds strong illustration in the death of Lieutenant Carrington. 
 My conception of the proper objects of funernl discourses has usually 
 forbidden all eulogistic reference to tlie dead. If its purpose were to 
 gratify or benefit the departed, it would be superstitious folly. Not 
 only are they forever removed beyond the reach of our appjause or 
 * blame, but beside the solemnities of that bar, before which they have 
 been arraio-ned, our verdict would seem to them infinitely trivial and 
 impertinent. If the purpose of funeral encomiums is to compliment 
 bereaved survivors, it might be admitted to be socially amiable ; but to 
 employ the pulpit for such a purpose is a perversion. God has ap- 
 pointed him who stands here, to be the herald of His truth alone. No 
 other message is allowed to proceed from his mouth. The only lawful 
 purpose of these services is to commend that truth to the living. 
 
 But God sometimes teaches us by example; and when his grace has 
 given to the church an instance peculiarly bright, it should be improved, 
 to impress the lessons of Christianity by the aid of the affections and 
 memories which cluster around it, upon the hearts of survivors. To 
 pass over such a christian character as that of our brother, and let his 
 memory drop in silence without thanksgiving to Him who formed him 
 to holiness, would be ingratitude to God, and neglect of the instruction 
 of his church. For never have I known a man, in whom grace bore 
 more excellent fruit, in its short summer time, than in him. Under the 
 ministry of the late venerable p:vUor, Doctor Rice, the ?acred instruc- 
 
12 
 
 ? « 
 
 tions of his childhood i-ipened into faith, and he devoted his early man- 
 hood to God. From the very first, his modest, brave, and honorable 
 nature displayed the refining influence of grace ; and he assumed at once 
 the standing of a thorough christian. His religion v/as of that type 
 which, like Joshua's and Caleb's " followed the Lord fully." - The result 
 was that after two years, he was introduced into the eldership, with the 
 unanimous approval of the church. In that office he was a model of 
 fidelity, ever postponing his private convenience to the calls and duties 
 of the elder, firm in discipline, in purity of life an "ensample to the 
 flock," and ready to assume any burden of labor or responsibility to 
 v/hich duty called him ; so that though of all men most modest and least 
 pragmatical, he soon found the largest share of the church's work resting 
 on his shoulders. It was thus that I came, first as stated supply, and 
 then as pnstor of this church, to know and love him. If I did not know 
 that my estimate is warmly sustained by all who knew him best, I should 
 suspect myself of a too partial affection, and put a constraint upon my 
 heart and lips. For truly can I say that my soul waft knit to his, as 
 the souls of David and Jonathan. And now that I have lost him,- 1 can 
 find no words to express my personal bereavement, better than those of 
 David in the requiem of his princely friend : '• How are the mighty 
 fallen in the midst of battle ! Jonathan, thou wast slain in thy high 
 places — I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan ; very pleasant 
 hast thou been unto me" — [II. Sam. 1 : 25, 26.] 
 
 Need I commend his kindness as a neighbor, when I see so many 
 glistening eyes before me attest it? Neecj I remind you of his public 
 spirit, his inflexible integrity, his courage for the right in this commu- 
 nity ? On the graces of his character as son, brother, husband, father, 
 in the interior circles of his home, the sacrcdness of the grief which his 
 loss has left behind it almost forbid me to enlarge. Abram C. Carring- 
 ton was the truest man with vrhose friendship it was ever my lot to be 
 blest. Let him but be convinced, in his clear and honest judgment, of 
 the call of duty, and his efi^ort to accomplish it was as certain as the 
 rising of the sun ; and it was made at once, without a pause to consider 
 vrhether the task vras easy and pleasant, or arduous and repulsive. Let 
 him once bestow his friendship upon you ; and he was yours in every 
 trial, with fortune, and hand, and heart, and, if need be, life blood. 
 
 As a soldier, his courage was of the truest temper. His comrades 
 whom I see before mc, will remember how his body was prostrate with 
 disease at the first battle of Manassas, but the energy of a determinate 
 will seemed to be medicine Ux his weakness; so that instead of making 
 
13 
 
 it an excuse for going to the rear, as so many did, his spirit invigorated 
 his failing strength. In the hattle of Gaines' Mill, where ins regiment 
 had one man of every three struck, his gallantry TN^as conspicuous : and 
 on Monday, June 30th, at Frazier's Farm, he Avas encouraging and 
 cheering on his men, when he fell, with a bullet through his breast. His 
 was the courage of the christian. It was as truly exhibited by his steady 
 christian example in the camp, as on the field. In a letter written on 
 the morning of the day he died, wliile cfescribing the carnage through 
 which his company passed the Friday before, he modestly says of him- 
 self: ''Amidst it all, I lifted up my heart to God in prayer for safety, 
 and, thanks to his holy name, he was pleased to hear me." In the same 
 calm spirit, he again commits himself to God in prayer and well doing, 
 with reference to the bloody day before him. 
 
 And now, my hearers, of what use shall this symmetrical and lovely 
 example be to us ? Let mc exhort the young men of this community to 
 be "followers of him as he also' was of Jesus Christ." And especially 
 would I now commend, by his example, the sacredand religious duty of 
 defending the cause for which he died. In the death of him and others 
 who went from our midst, of such noble spirits as Abram and Edgar 
 Carrington, of Peyton and Dabney Harrison, of Hugh White, of John 
 Thornton, and all their noble fellowship of martyrs, I see a new argu- 
 ment for consecrating ourselves to our country's cause, and defending it 
 with invincible tenacity. Surely their very blood should cry out against 
 us from the ground, if w^e permitted the soil which drank the precious 
 libation, to be polluted with the despot's foot ! Shall it ever be that 
 our feebleness or discouragcm.ents shall make the costly sacrifice vain V 
 If this is to be, then was it not treacherous in us to invite it? We 
 should rather have warned them to restrain their generosity, to save the 
 lives they were so ready to sacrifice on their country's altar, as too pre- 
 cious to be wasted for a land occupied by predestined slaves and 
 cowards, and to carry their patriotism and their gifts to some more pro- 
 pitious clime, and some worthier companionship. But we have invited 
 the sacrifice ; we have received it ; and before God, I take you to witness 
 this day, that its blood seals uponyyou the obligation to fill their places 
 in your country's host, and " play the men for your people and the 
 cities of your God," to the complete vindication of their rights. 
 
 Let me also commend the example of our brother to my co-presby- 
 ters, the ciders of his church. How many of us, my brethren, how 
 many of you, who have instructed me to preach this sermon, and display 
 .the lessons of the life we have reviewed, will come up to the measure of 
 
14 
 
 his fidelity, of his manly and vigorous piety, of Ins industry in the con- 
 cerns of God's house ? Who -svill fill tlie breach Ave now feel ? Happy 
 would that people be, whose pastors were always actuated by his steady 
 zeal ! And I will add, boldly bidding away every thought of personal 
 offence, by the awful solemnities of that bourne whence our dead col- 
 league's example preaches to us; happy would those pastors be, whose 
 Session all sustained them like other Abram Carrin^tons ! 
 
15 
 
 THOU ART GONE TO THE GRAVE 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee ; 
 Though sorrows ♦nd darkness encompass the tomb, 
 The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee, 
 And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom. 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave — we no longer behold thee, 
 Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side ; 
 But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, 
 And sinners may hope, since the sinless has died. 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave, and its mansions forsaking. 
 
 Perhaps thy tried spirit in doubt lingered long ; 
 
 But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright. on thy waking, 
 
 And the song that thou hcard'st was the seraphim's song, 
 Thou art gone to the grave, but 'twere wrong to deplore thee, 
 When God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and guide ; 
 He gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee, • 
 AVhere death has no sting, since the Saviour hath died, 
 
Hollinger Corp. j 
 
 pH 8.5 ^