By the flambeau that burned with a weird, lurid light, we could dimly see them fall into line and march away, with their knapsacks on their backs and their guns in their hands. But they were a jolly set; and as they plunged into the mud, which was nearly knee-deep, some wag among them cried out, in imitation of boatmen taking the depth of the channel, “No bottom! no bottom!” Every soldier seemed to instantly join in the chorus; and “No bottom! no bottom!” rang out from hundreds of throats, which was soon varied to “No chickens!” “No coffee!” “No ’taters!” as they plunged on in the darkness. Of course such conduct was not consistent with military dignity, and so the colonel tried to stop them. But the noise was so loud that he failed at first to make himself heard. “Halt!” he cried in thunder tones. Immediately there was entire quiet; every man stood still just where he was to hear what his commanding officer had to say; not a foot moved. “Soldiers, you forget yourselves,” said the colonel. “I know it is raining, and the mud is deep, and the fare and the work have been hard; but you are in the midst of a great army, the commanding general’s quarters are near; what will be thought of such noise and confusion? You misrepresent yourselves; we will march quietly to camp. Forward, march!” Not a passionate or profane word was spoken. We were all curious to know who the officer was who could command himself as well as his men. The next day I was at General Grant’s quarters; and I inquired as to who the officer was, and told the story. “I do not know him,” I said earnestly, “but I am sure he ought to be promoted. A man who can govern himself as he did last night ought to wear a general’s shoulder-straps.” “That was Colonel Legget. He is a good man, and a very fine officer,” was the general’s reply. “Do you know, General, that there is a great deal of profanity among the officers and men?” “Yes, I know; I am sorry that it is so.” “I am glad to hear you say that you are sorry.” “I never swear.” “Indeed! It is encouraging to hear a man of your influence say that. I am glad you have so much moral principle.” “It is not moral principle,” he answered quickly. “I never contracted the habit of profanity. I should not utter an oath if I knew what I was about; and, not having the habit, I would not likely do so unconsciously. Profanity does not comport with the dignity of the military service.” “No; nor with Christianity, which lifts a higher standard. I wish you could have said that Christian principles furnished an added restraint.” “I believe in the Christian system, and have great respect for Christian people. They are doing a grand work in the army; but I am not a Christian as you understand it.” “I wish you were. You walk amid dangers, and many of us feel anxious about you--many prayers go up for your safety. I would feel that you were safer for both worlds if you were a Christian.” “I would like to be a Christian.”