When faced by the stern realities of life and death, it is not easy for any person to practice the subtle art of camouflage so far as faith and destiny are concerned. The experiences of G. A. Studdert-Kennedy, one of the war chaplains at the Front, were similar to those of other men engaged in ministering to the religious needs of the soldiers. He was once brought face to face with one of the boys in a crisis, and was asked the pointed question: “What is God like?” The soldiers who know that God is like Christ the Sufferer and Sympathizer, have an assurance that gives them courage to go through the rough and distracting ordeal on the field of battle. This was true in the World War and in all similar grim encounters. Another chaplain, Thomas Tiplady, wrote that when the great hours draw near, and even in the lighter hours, the soldiers like hymns most of all, and at the religious services they cannot have too many hymns. They care little for patriotic songs since they are living their patriotism in the severe struggle with the enemy. The hymns for which they have a special preference are those which give them cheer and hope and deepen their consciousness of the presence of the Comrade Christ. These incidents belong to our Civil War and to later wars. But in essence they bear on the same themes and frankly reveal the recesses and the resources of the soul. The unexpected turns in war are illustrated in A Memory of Pickett’s Brigade Reminiscences were being exchanged by veterans of both sides of the Civil War at a banquet given in their honor by the Board of Trade of New York City. Colonel J. J. Phillips, of the Ninth Virginia Regiment, Pickett’s Division, presided. Speaking of night attacks, he recalled one in particular because of the peculiar circumstances which resulted almost in the compulsory disobedience of orders, in response to a higher command. “The point of attack had been carefully selected,” said Colonel Phillips, “the awaited dark night had arrived, and my command was to fire when General Pickett should signal the order. “There was that dread, indescribable stillness; that weird ominous silence that always settles over everything before a fight. You felt that nowhere in the universe was there any voice or motion. “Suddenly the awesome silence was broken by the sound of a deep, full voice rolling over the black void like the billows of a great sea, directly in line with our guns. It was singing the old hymn, ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul.’ “I have heard that grand old music many times in circumstances which intensified its impressiveness, but never had it seemed so solemn as when it broke the stillness in which we waited for the order to fire. Just as it was given there rang through the night the words: ‘Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Thy wing.’ “‘Ready, aim! Fire to the left, boys!’ I said.