difficulty and discomfiture when Thou takest compassion upon us. Help us,
then, through grace, and so I will praise Thee from now to all eternity.


Hans has bidden good-bye to Gretchen, and has kissed the children he may
never see more. He has marched with his fellows to the depot, and got his
uniform and arms. The _Militaerzug_ has carried him to Kreuznach, and
thence he has marched sturdily up the Nahe Valley and over the ridge into
the Kollerthaler Wald. His last halt was at Puttingen, but Kameke has sent
an aide back at the gallop to summon up all supports. The regiment stacks
arms for ten minutes' breathing-time while the cannon-thunder is borne
backward on the wind to the ears of the soldiers. In two hours more they
will be across the French frontier, storming furiously up the Spicheren
Berg. As Hans gropes in his tunic pocket for his tinder-box, the little
war prayer-book somehow gets between his fingers. He takes it out with the
pipe-light, and finds in its pages a prayer surely suited to the
situation--the prayer


FOR THE OUTMARCHING

O gracious God! I defile from out my Fatherland and from the society of my
friends,[1] and out of the house of my father into a strange land, to
campaign against the enemies of our king. Therefore I would cast myself
with life and soul upon Thy divine bosom and guardianship; and I pray
Thee, with prostrate humility, that Thou willst guide me with Thine eye,
and overshadow me with Thy wings. Let Thine angels camp round about me,
and Thy grace protect me in all the difficulties of the marches, in all
camps and dangers. Give me wisdom and understanding for my ways and works.
Give success and blessing to our ingoings and outcomings, so that we may