skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God?" Or, as that ripened Christian wrote and spoke of peace and comfort of soul, of a strengthening and refreshing by a partaking of the sacred feast of love in remembrance of the Lord Jesus, was he not lifted up in spirit beyond this world to the next, when he recorded this occasion as "probably the last time I shall have an opportunity of receiving it in anything like a church?" It almost seems as if the Saviour's voice was sounding in his ears-"I will not henceforth drink of this fruit of the vine, until the day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."

THE short period of two days that elapsed between Captain Hammond's landing and the final attack upon Sebastopol were chiefly occupied in settling himself in camp, superintending the disembarkation of his luggage, and paying visits to his friends. And yet he found time in the first confusion of arrival to visit the sick in hospital, remembering the words of the Lord Jesus, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, for I was sick and ye visited me."

The few particulars of these last two days may be best gathered from the letters of a brother officer and most attached friend.

"CAMP BEFORE SEBASTOPOL

"I will just in a few words mention some things that will interest you, regarding the two days he spent in camp

BEFORE THE ATTACK.

333

with us. Having heard, on the evening of the 5th, that he had arrived at Balaklava, I rode down the following morning, and met him on Colonel L * * *'s horse, which had been sent to meet him. We rode back to camp, welcoming each other with a chastened joy, and with some vague misgivings in my mind. He was cheerful, looked well, and I pointed out to him the various localities rendered remarkable by recent events in this weary campaign. He dined with me, enjoying the camp comfort of the hut in which I live. Afterwards, true to his old spirit of love and benevolence, he visited the hospital, talked and shook hands with all the old soldiers he recognised, and also had a kind conversation with the hospital sergeant, whose wife is with Mrs Hammond. We then walked to the front of our encampment, and I pointed out to him such works of the enemy and the allies as were within view. On returning to camp we mounted our horses again, and rode to Cathcart's Hill, where a good view of the town can be obtained. On our return we called on his cousin, Major G***. After tea we walked again to the front to see the cannonade and the shelling. On the following morning at breakfast he said he had slept but little, from the dust which was flying about and the excitement connected with the terrific firing. He afterwards rode into Balaklava to inquire for his horse, and wrote a letter to his wife, when in the meantime the plan of the morrow's attack was published in orders.

"We talked together of the dread work before the army and the regiment, and in compliance with his then request I now write to you. 'John,' as he always affectionately called me, 'write to my father if a thing befalls me.

You know his address.' He then added, his eyes filling with tears, 'Write to my wife, too,' and spoke about selling his things; under no kind of depression, but as if to be ready for the worst. I agreed, of course, and asked him to leave his watch with me, with his keys, which he did, passing the subject off by saying that we often talked of such matters among ourselves, from the uncertainty of camp life, from sickness, as well as the shot of the enemy.

"After finishing our letters, he proposed that we should have our ordinary reading of the Scriptures, with prayer, asking me to read. I read the 91st Psalm, which led to some conversation regarding God's care of His own peculiar people. He said he did not think this applied literally to every individual believer, or words to that effect; and then read a passage from one of his wife's letters, as expressive of what he felt to be the right view of the subject.* He then prayed with a fervour and unction that recalled the many sweet prayers that I have heard uttered by that dear voice which is now attuned to everlasting praise before the Lamb. My mind was much distracted about him; but I recollect feeling how he dwelt on the undue importance we attach to seen and temporal things, and the importance of unseen and eternal things. He mentioned in prayer his wife and child, and those dear brethren whom we are accustomed to remember in our social prayers. We bid each other good night with an affectionate shake, our hearts filled with hopes and fears regarding the morrow. He wished me to call him early in the morning, that he might have some time for prayer

*It is well to compare his altered opinion on this head with that expressed in a letter to his wife, dated August 25, 1854.

LAST LETTER TO HIS WIFE.

335

before breakfast, which was earlier than usual on account of parade."

The letter to his wife, alluded to above, as written on the evening of the 7th, the night before the attack, is as follows:

"CAMP BEFORE SEBASTOPOL, October 7, 1855.

"I am not going to write a long letter, because I have already posted one for you, and I am rather tired this evening through the excitement of the scenes around me, the sights and sounds, which have taken the place of what we used only to read of. Long before this reaches you you will probably have heard of another attack on the Redan, Malakoff, or both. Who shall say whether it will be attended with success or failure? But the Lord reigneth, and to Him only can the soul turn in looking to the unknown future. A very heavy bombardment has been going on for the last three days without intermission; a heavier fire than any other that has hitherto taken place. There is no manner of doubt that something great is to take place immediately. In fact we were told so on parade this evening by General C * * *. Two days' rations

have been issued to the Second and Light Divisions, and it is expected that we shall move down to the trenches tomorrow morning. At all events, it is to be hoped that this time they will not repeat the blunders of the 18th, and that we shall not attack till the French have stormed the Malakoff. I have not yet been down to the trenches, so that my inauguration will probably be a serious one. But I can calmly leave the event in the hands of a Saviour