A night of pinching cold with but little sleep illy fitted us for the duty that was to be ours after the Sabbath morning's sun should rise. With the morning and our hastily prepared breakfast came the question, everything then being so still, "Will there be fighting to-day? This is Sunday." If there had been a faint hope that the army would rest on its arms that bright Sabbath morning, it was of short life, for soon the order came for an advance; and when it came there were no laggards found. Soldiers never obeyed more promptly, nor with more ready spirit than was that order obeyed. We had learned during the evening and night from various sources that the battle of Saturday had gone hard with some portions of our lines where the enemy had massed his troops most heavily, and our men joined in the desire to retrieve all that had been lost. We moved out in line of battle with our skirmishers advanced, passing over a portion of the field that had been so hotly contested the day before. Soon the shots of the skirmishers warn us that work is before us; nor is it long until the skirmishers have pushed to their furtherest limit, and the line of battle joins them. The command for the charge is given, and, with a shout that might have come from ever-victorious troops, we dash upon their lines. Stubborn is the resistance, but impetuous and determined is the charge, comrade cheering comrade on--on with a fury that cannot be withstood; the air filled with leaden hail; men falling about us on every side; but on and on they push until at last the enemy's lines are broken, and we follow in hot pursuit, driving them back until they reach a line of reinforcements. Again the battle rages; now with redoubled lines they charge upon us, and the very earth shakes under our feet from the terrible discharge that comes from artillery massed in our front. Shells are shrieking in the air and bursting over our heads; great limbs are torn from the trees and fall with the broken shells about us. Soon our lines are weighed down with the terrible onslaught, and we are driven back over the same ground over which we had just come. Again our lines are rallied, and reformed, and strengthened; and again we charge to recover the lost ground. Four times that Sunday forenoon did our lines sweep down over that ground, and as many times were we driven back, until the ground was almost covered with friend and foe--the blue and the gray lying side by side, wounded, dying, and dead. Coming to us even in the heat and excitement of the battle, it was a terrible and sickening sight to see that battle field that day. As often as our lines were broken and driven back, so often did they rally and renew the attack, until again broken and forced back, turning and firing into the face of the foe as they went, until some soldier or officer would stop, and, with a brave and determined purpose, swear that there he would stand or die, as he turned his face once more to