hough I spared no effort
to find him, in the hope that he might be only wounded. As one of
the correspondents wrote of him, he was a man of God, and a man
among men--a fitting epithet. Not to mention other warm friends, in
my own mess (General Wauchope's) there were seven of us on
December 18; when next we sat down there were only two. We were a
sad, a very sad, brigade, for though we tried to hide it, we took
our losses to heart sorely; for "men of steel are men who feel."
But out of evil came good. The depth of latent religious feeling
that was evoked in officers and men was a revelation to me; and
were it not that confessions, and acknowledgments, and vows were
too sacred for repetition, I could tell a tale that would gladden
your hearts--not that I put too much stress on what's said or done
at such an impressionable solemnising time, but after-proof of
sincerity has not been wanting.'[4]

[Footnote 4: _Scotsman_, May 26, 1900.]

='Prepare to meet your God!'=

A few more words may serve to complete the picture.

When all at once the Highland Brigade stumbled upon the Boer trenches,
and speedily all the officers of his company was struck down,
Colour-Sergeant McMillan (we believe a member of the Salvation Army)
found himself in charge, and, waving his arm, shouted to his men, 'Men
of A Company, prepare to meet your God! Forward! Charge!' The next
moment a bullet went through his brain, and he fell dead. But surely
that was not the time to prepare for such a dread meeting. Thank God
that _he_ was ready. We have heard him singing for Jesus in the old camp
at home, and now he is singing in heaven.

=A Christian Hero.=

Many hours passed ere the wounded could be relieved. They lay under the
fierce rays of the African sun, suffering agonies from thirst, and no
succour could reach them. At last there were those who ventured to their
help. But the wounded were many, and the helpers were few. The
water-bottles were soon exhausted, but there was one soldier who had a
few drops left. He saw two lads lying side by side in the agonies of
death. He went to the first and offered him the water still remaining in
his bottle. The dying man was parched with thirst, and he looked at the
water with a strange, sad longing, and then feebly shook his head.
'Nay,' he said, 'give it to the other lad. _I_ have the water of life,'
and he turned round to die. _That_