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[From the Southern Record r.]
JJome for Invalid Ladies.
To R. M. Orme, Sen., President of the'
Editorial Convention of the Weekly South-!
ern Press, convened at Milledgeville, Ga., |
Ap t 2d, 1863.
The Ladies of the Finance Committee of
the “Home for Invalid Ladies’" were much
pleas d to learn from the B <ptist Bunner
that the Convention unanimously adopted
a resolution commending the above enter
prise to the favorable consideration of the
public, and pledging themselves to assist to
the best of their ability in forwarding this
work foi the physical benefit of woman.
We cordially thank you, and the intelli
gent gentlemen there convened, for their
prompt approval, and the sympathy and
voluntary assistance so generously proffered
—and, though we had addressed no paper
to the gentlemen of the Convention, we
were not astonished to hear of their prompt
and voluntary resolution, since, as we have
said at another time, we are aware that
woman’s truest and most appreciative
friends are among the relint d, the noble and
intelligent m n of the country, and we can
not believe that any enterprise, either for'
the moral, intellectual or physical benefit of
the women of the South, will be regarded
with disapproval or spoken of disparaging
ly by any unprejudiced— any true and loy
al Southern gentleman.
When all unprejudiced and philanthropic
persons must know that such an institution
as this ‘‘Home” is designed to be, will
prove of incalculable benefit to the invalid
ladies of the South, and that it will reflect
much credit upon the philanthropy, gener
osity and public spirit of Southern commu
nities to have it erected, even now, amid
the clash and thunders of the deep-mouthed
cannon, we cannot understand why any
true worn m, or any true friend of our sex,
will R >t give it all the support in his or her
power.
The public are already apprised of the
intended appropriation of the donation fund
we are now trying to collect from the South
ern people, especially Southern ladies, and
the pure philanthropy of this proceeding
must be evident to all persons who rightly
understand our plans. All must know from
our statements that this “Home” is not de
signed f>r any one person, for any one
State, party or denomination, but as an ele
gant institution to be established for the
successful treatment of invalid ladies of po
sition and respectability from any part of
the Southern Confederacy.
It has been proven that the peculiar dis
eases to which woman’s delicate organiza
tion is subject, cannot be successfully treat
ed in her home, however comfortable it
may be, as in such an institution as this,
where she will be under the constant and
immediate supervision of the best physi
cians, attended by kind and efficient nurses,
and with every surrounding facility for the
restoration of health ami happiness.
This donation fund, as it is collected, will
be deposited in Bank until the time for its
appropriation arrives ; and as the ladies of
th ■ Finance Committee will present it to
Dr. Powell to purchase medical apparatus,
furniture, etc., for the “Home,” and he
pledges himself to return the amount of
the fund in gratuitous medical attendance
upon ladies of respectability who may wish
to l> • treated in the “Home,” but are una
ble to pay the medical fee; and, in the
event of his death, enjoins the same upon
his successor, we can have n<> object but the
entirely unselfish wish to assist in relieving
the physical sufferings of our sex; and
all must see that Dr. Powell's acceptance
and appropriation of this find, as we de
sire, is from motives of the purest philan
thropy, since it cannot benefit him, or any
one, individually.
We hope the ladies, and all friends of
the enterprise, will send in their donations
at once. Five dollars, if they can send no i
more, will not inconvenience any one, and
in the airgregite may do a great amount of]
good. We desire to have the fund collected I
at once, so that when the time arrives there,
will be no delay in its appropriation.
With many and repeated thanks to all
our generous and obliging editorial friends,
Very respectfully,
Mrs. J. X. Simmons,
Mrs Isaac Winship,
Finance Committee.
Miss M. Louise Rogers, Cor. See.
As Mrs. Mary Walker, the former co
operator with Mrs. Xnnmoiis has for some
time been out of the State, and will remain
absent permanently, I have w ith very great
pleasure accepted the offer to cooperate
with the last named hi ly in this noble en
terprise for the relief of our invalid ladies.
Though 1 shall still continue with zeal and
pleasure my labors for the comfort of our
soldiers, I cannot be unmindful of the wants
of my own sex. rnd can and will find tune
to do all in my power to further this benev
olent w ork.
I hope the Presidents of all Soldiers’ So
cieties throughout the South will interes'
th inse Ives at once in getting up donations
from the ladies of their respective commit
nities, and send them to our address (Mrs.
J. X. Simmons and myself). W e ran work
for tins also, and not neglect our soldiers,
aid | think every Southern woman would
be pr >ud to have her name enrolled as a
dmi ' • am mg the records of this institution.
Mks. Isaac Winship,
Pres’t Atlanta Hospital Association.
—♦ ♦
Lxvcutivr < oniniitlces.
1 he nn tubers of the Executive Coinmit
tees of the Cherokee B iptist Convention,
•v I <>t the I oosa Association, tire earnestly
r< «pi ! to be i n atten.’anee at the session
! t avention. at Ron e, commencing
on 1 r.day . the loth instant.
v. M. Wood, Chairman.
♦
By a rteeit act of Congress, sol
d< rs i the Con ederate army are allowed
to tevci.e newsq apers .rve v s postage.
SBB SOSJBT
THE SOLDIERS’ COLUMN.
The Song of the Camp.
“Give us a song,” the soldier cried,
I The outer trenches guarding,
When the heated guns of the camps Allied
Grewweao of bombarding.
The dark Redan, in silent scoff.
Lis grim and threatening under,
And the tow'ring mound of the Malakoff
No longer belched its thunder.
Tlr re was a pause. The guirdian said:
“ We storm the forts io-morrow;
Sine' while we may, another day
Will bring enough of sorrow.”
Th°y sang of love, and not of fame,
Fo'got was Britain’s glory;
Each heart recalled a dith rent name,
But all san' “Annie Laurie.”
Voice after v ice caugh up the song,
Until its tender passton
Rose It ean anthem, rich and strong,
Tneir battle-eve confession.
Dear girl h»-r name he dared not speak,
Yet, a- the song g<ew louder.
Something upon the soldi r’s cheek
Washed off the stains of powd r. •
Bevond the dark’ning ocean burned
The hloodv sunset’s embers,
While the Crimean valleys learned
How Eng’i-h love remembers.
i And 'nee again a fire of hell
R lined on the Russian quarters,
With se’eam <>f -hot and <>urst of shell,
And bellowing of the mortars.
And Tri-h Nora’s eyes are dim
Fora so 'ge dumb and gory;
An 1 English Mary mourns for him
Who sang of ‘ Ann e Latvie.”
Ah. soldier- ! to your honored rest,
Your truth and valor beating;
The bravest are the tt-nderest,
The loving are the danng.
[Bayard Taylor.
TO THE SOLDIER OUT OF CHRIST.
If these lines should, perchance, fall into
the hands of any soldier who has no inter
est in Christ, to such a one we desire to ad
dress a few words <>f affectionate warning.
You have an immortal soul—one that is
destined to survive this frail bodily tene
ment. On ail terre-trial things is written,
“ Passing awayßut the soul is of supe
rior origin, and is destined to live forever
in a world of happiness or woe. Solemn
thought! one which comes home with pow
er to every reflecting mind. Experience
teaches that life is uncertain ; that sooner
or later, all must die, and lie down in thC*
cold ground. Our bodies return to dust,
but what becomes of the deathless spirit?
Vuere are only two places to contain the I
race of Adam—heaven and hell. Stop and !
think; reflect seriously. Why are you;
averse to reflecting on that subject which
concerns you most? Where are your steps
tending ? Have you made your peace with !
God, and secured your title to heaven? It ,
not, you are in the broad road to ruin, and. |
unless arrested by the grace of God, will
ere. long be in the regions of black despair.
.Awful truth ! You are on the brink of de-1
I struction, and nothing but the brittle thread ;
of life keeps you out. What security have
you tor your life? It is passing strange
that you can be so light-hearted and con
tented w hen eternal death st ires you in the
face. Who can conceive what is implied
in the expression, eternal death? What in
tellect can grasp the thought! Banished
from God, happiness and heaven, the soul
of the smuer is consigned to the; regions of
black despair, without one ray of hope
throughout eternity. You are living under
the wrath of a holy God. who can not re
gard sin with any degree of allowance; and |
it is only through sovereign mercy that!
you are not this day suffering the miseries
of the lost, in that world where the worm ,
dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.
G<«l created man holy, ami consequently ■
happy. But sin entered the world, !
with it death and all our woes. Man trans
grossed the la a <.f his Maker, and fell from
his fu st estate. The justice of a holy and j
offended God saith, “ flic soul that sinneth,
it shall die.” But when there was no eye
to pity or arm to save, the blessed Jesus
I offered himself a ransom for sinners, satis
fied the demands of the law, and provided
yi way by which man cm be restored to fa
vor with God. He has prepared many
mansions tor His redeemed followers. He
imw invit‘s you to come to Him and live.
W ith outstretched arms He entreats you to I
come. B ho] I His hands pierced for you,!
ihe agonies which lie endured for you. —'
Ihe sun refu-ed to look on the scene, and,!
abi-hed, hid its face. Wilt thou, oh man, 1
spurn the off r of salvation obtained at such ;
a price ? 8 i ill Je>us die in vain, so far as
your salvation is concerned ? He complains 1
that you will not co i tie unto Him, that you
might have life. Why will y e die, since
| Jesus has died to sive you !
1 erhaps you have a pious mother. How
her heart y earns over her irreligious child !
Behold her as, on bended kflees, she pleads
I y oui cause before the throne of grace. Let I
jyout. prayers a-cend with hers for vouiy
souls salvatin. (>!.iiden her heart bv
turning now to the Saviour. I beg that
you will atteu 1t > this matter. Life and
death are now set before you. A free sal
vation is offered t > you in the gospel. Let
; not the go! of this world blind you, and
n.ike you ilkj wiltul agent of your own de
struction. la view of all the terrors which
ire the p >rtioi.s of the lost soul throughout
J eternity, lime beseech you t.» attend to
your soul s salvation. Come to Jesus note.
is the acc'oted time, now is the dav
• 4 saLation. l.iere is no need that you
! should be lost. God desires not the death
iof the sinner, but would hive him turn
junto Him and live. But He deals with
you as ai at ion a I creature. He offers you
salvation, but He does not force you to’ac
cept it. He will by no means spare the
guilty There is only one means of sal
vation. Tnere is but one name given under
heaven by w hich you can be saved. If v<»u
ue saved at all, it mas’ be in His own an
pointvd way. Oat ot C irist, God is aeon
suming tire, but in Je-us there is merev
and plenteous i edemption for ail who would
be saved. Come, then, close in with the
offer-of salvation wiih >ut delay. “W h -
-o ver will, kt him take the water of life
fr<tdy .”
PIETY IN THE BRITISH INDIAN ARMY.
Ihe Indian army has been rich in good
men ; both among officers and private sol
diers has there been a remarkable number
of intelligent and earnest disciples of the
Lord Jesus Christ. Many of them went to
India Christian men : many of them have
been from time to time converted there,
through the ministry of the chaplains and
missionaries to w horn they have been in
troduced.
No unusual thing is it to find among the
foremost of our speakers at public meetings,
amongst our various committees for benev
iolent objects, and among the hard-working,
! practical philanthropists throughout the
country, retired Indian officers, whose aim
is to serve their own generation according
to the will of God.
Now and then, too, may be found,
amongst our aged and superanuated poor,
some old soldier who, whilst loquacious
about his exploits in siege and battle, is
mindful of the sermons which he heard
from Thomason, and of prayer-meetings
which were conducted by Chamberlain, and
of things which were talked about concern
ing Buchanan, and Brown, and Carey, and 1
Marshman, and Ward, and Henry Martyn.
He will tell how a Christian church was
formed in his regiment, and how comrade
after comrade was induced to believe in
Christ, and how’ brethren from other regi
ments occasionally joined their worship,
and how,-on more th«m one occasion, (rod
called a man so evidently to the preaching
of the gospel, that his discharge was ob
tained, that he might give himself continu
ally to pr yer an£ the ministry of the
Word. And that which the conduct <>f our
retired East Indian officers,and the conver
sations of our superannuated East Indian
soldiers indicate, our early missionary an
nals directly confirm. When depressed by
the apparent failure of their efforts to in
struct the heathen, the missionaries were
frequently encouraged by their success
amongst their own countrymen in the
army ; and they were also oflen cheered by
the arrival in their neighborhoods of some
fellow-helpers in the truth, either amongst
the officers or the men. And this peculiar
ity, with some vicissitudes, has continued
to the present tinm, when such men as the
Lawrences, Nicholson, E lwa;d--. Montgom
ery, Havelock, and many others, have
] proved themselves, so indubitably, good
I soldiers of Jesus Christ.
[Aev. I4L Brock, of London.
\ column.
’ Answer to Enigma I. —‘l am Alpha and
Omega.’
ENIGMA IL.
I am composed of sixteen letters -
My 1, 8. 14—a metal.
2, 15, 13-a fowl.
2,5, 16—part of the human body.
!*, 12, 4, 11, 5. 7, 2 —should be kept holy.
6,7, 13, 10—a 1 quid measure.
My whole is what a great many children love.
Blttie Gray.
[Answer next weelc-J
V7OULD BE YOUSG LADIES OR GEN
TLEMEN.
“ Where’s your father, Margaret ? ”
“ I suppose he’s in the shop, sir.”
“Always hammering away, summer and
winter, from morning till night.”
“Yes, sir, father is very industrious; I
really believe he works because he loves it.”
“And where’s ycur mother, Margaret?”
“She is in the kitchen, sir ; mother does
so like to cook, and wash and sweep ”
“ That you and your si.-ter II irriet rare
ly have a chance at the griddle or broom,
it is likely.”
“ O, never, sir; we take care of the par
lor, which, but for us, would have no tenant.”
“You and your sis.er are, then, my dear,
your parents’ Lillies of the ptrior, who nei
ther sew nor spin, but continue to be ar
rayed as beautifully as Solomon by the
sewing and spinning of others.”
“Sir?”
“And your brother Henry, does he blow
the bellow’s, or play second hammer to your
father?”
“O dear, no, sir, he never works; he
rides or promenades, goes to the theatre,
visits the ladies. And we go to the play,
receive the gentlemen, and take a drive or
walk.’
“And vvhat do you do the rest of the
time ? for 1 suppose there is a little left. ’
“ We are getting rea ly, sir.”
“ This really seems a very nice and pleas
ant arrangement to three ot you at least.—
Doublle-s it is all agreeable to your pa
rents I They like their end of the joke, du
they not ? ” *
“ Wh at, sir ? ”
“ Your father and mother like the arrange-.
mem which V'»u speak ot ? Ttiey are content
io take their dividend of life in wink; they
prefer to labor themselves, and don t seem
to mind if other people are alway s idle or
I ot!” ;
“O dear, no. You can’t imagine how
proud they are of being busy. Liey would
i not be doing nothing if they could I really
believe. Father was unwell a week, some
time ago. and idleness seemed to weigh
upon him as much as his disease. lie was
g al enough to be active again, 1 assure
y<»u.”
“ Perhaps his unremitting labor is neces
sary to enable him to maintain hi- family ■
Why, perhaps it may be; I'm sure I
don’t know.”
“ Li that ease, it is possible that w nen his
income is stopped bv illness, he may not be
entirely easy in his mind; his piospects
iiiav not be clear and pleasant.
“I don’t know how that matter may be,
sir.”
“ But, of course, if anything should hap
pen to prevent your providing, there is y our
I brother, and he might
“Ha. ha! what, brother Henry? He
■ can’t split a stick to kindle the fire with,
’ and does not kn-»w how to keep it going af
ter it is made, unless it is tu let it go out.
• IBrother would rather have both hands
(chopped off than see them spoiled with work,
lie w’ould die before he wold le,t Cnristo
pher Cherry w it or Tom Tweezer know that
he ever touched hammer or spade. And
! as for his sister and me, you don’t imagine.
I hope ”
“Not at all; there is not the least need
of your doing anything, I see.”
“That is it, sir. The o]d folks would
not be ea<y without labor; they have never
known what it is to rest, and be amused ;
and we are ignorant of anything else. So
we are both suited. Work seems to be
their only delight; and it is lucky for us
ihat is so. Don’t you think so yourself,
sir?”
We don’t, fair Miss Margaret.
TALKING.
1 don’t believe what some folks say, that
little girls should be seen and not heard.—
I wouldn’t have them dumb lor anything;
but I want them to know how to talk, and '
when to be silent. I wish I Could invent '
something to put in people’s mouths, like
what I sav^fastened on to a water pipe the '
other day. They called it a filter. The 1
water was quite muddy, but when it passed
through the filter, it came out as clear as
crystal. O!if we could only strain out all '
the naughty, passionate, careless, silly and *
unkind words from conversation, what a 1
pleasure it would be to listen. I’m afraid
some people would not have much to say, 1
and I’m quite sure the filter would want 1
cleansing pretty often. ’
EXTORTION.—No. 4.
AV HAT EXTORTION 19.
We come now to our definition of what
extortion is. 1
1. And first, it would be in a necessary 1
of life. If leather were put upon bonnets, 1
or to ornament hats or shoes, we would not '
have a word to say. The man who sets up '
a m inufactory to make l ibbands, may ask 1
what he chooses, perhaps, in any times.
2 In the second place, to make our defi 1
nition more certain, we are willing, if you !
please, to cast off the case of the rich, tho’ ’
ive do not know how a man can ask one '
price of the poor and another (with any 1
dignity of business) of his rich neighbors. 1
Moreover, extortion is ex’ortion, we are
very much inclined to think, when commit
ted against anybody. Still, to make our
case more practically correct: That is to
say, it there are to be any fogs or difficul
ties to leave them on the lower ground, we
are willing practically to insist on this ;
that extortion is in its clearest shape w here
its victims are the poor.
3. And then we have nothing to do but
with the third and last test which is, after
all, the main characteristic in the matter:
Extortion is hiyh prices (2) extracted
from the poor (1) for the necessaries of life,
(3) WITHOUT A PROPORTIONATE COST IN THE
PRODUCTION.
it is astonishing how truly Christ ex
presses this in His charge upon the Phari
sees. “These be they that (3j devour (2)
widows’ (1) houses,” He says.
A house, in this oriental language, was
the whole well being of afamily. “Because
ihe midwives feared God, he made them
houses.” “1 will build thee (viz,Solomon)
!a sure house, as I built for David.”
What could be a stronger expression for
forcing out ot the po >r all their substance,
by charging them ruinous rates fur the ne
cessaries ot ide?
And whereas, the ruin of the poor, as in
the instance of Ireland for example, or as
in the instance of the Madeira Islands, is
sometimes inevitable, the third qualifying
peculiarity is the important one which re
fers to the proportion of c >st.
This was what the Governor seized upon j
in the instance of the Cotton Factory.
It may be a great hardship to the poor
to pay twenty dollars for flour, greater per
haps in some families than the expense of
shoes; but one is more like a visitation of
necessity —the other is affirmed to be aeon
sequence of human cupidity and oppression
The cos', therefore, is the great elementa
ry idea in every instance of extortion.
In appealiny to reason, however, for
proof, w e must qualify all this in respect to
the cost, in the outset, by certain interest
ing particulars.
Because I find a thing in the street, and
it therefore costs me nothing, am 1 there
fore ever after precluded, if I fall to find an
owner, from selling it at the market price?
If my corn, in a certain sense, costs me
nothing, Liecause 1 raise it on my farm, and
I feed >l to my horses, am 1 therefore for-
J bidden to hire my horses, calculating ’he
value of their forage, and to hire them at
■the market price? If 1 have old goods in
store that cost me the fourpence or the six
pence ot a previous condition of the trade,
am 1 therefore forbidden to advance upon
these rates, now that the same goods, as 1
go on to buy, are at an altogether different
appreciation? These points are not diffi
cult it we only ask this, — What is my whole
expenditure as a business man ?
If 1 have*fouud things upon the street, I
have lost things. It 1 have raised corn up
on my estate, 1 have paid for raising it. It
I have old goods, s•a -o have I new. The I
q lestion is as to tfie grand total. Is it, as ,
m the insta ice of the tanners, bewildering
Iv profitable? Or is it only, in the class!
to w hich it belongs, productive ot those j
proportioned gains which, in the hazards of
the times, seem assi-iulaled to the necessi
ties of living ? D -übtless no very exact
measure can be formed, but still there is
romn enough to distinguish between the
sale of corn <>r the sale of flour, and the sale
<>f th it wh ch brings twenty times or thirty
tunes the price we ever received for it be
fore.
Now, where is the harm of ail this?
Wnv, defiii'.teiy here—the harm that all
> will confess of a mm that u-es a monopoly
, to oppress (he suffering. If I live in a be
- sieged c.tv, and nave ail the quinine that is
. in it, and the citizens are dy iug of fever, I
can find men willing to give me a thousand
dollars for enough to cure them. Would
it be right to take it? Would not the fe.
vered citizens tear such a manufactory to
pieces, sooner than submit to even the be
ginning of any such monopolizing rates?—
And if the city spreads into a continet t,-
and the evil, instead of being confined, is
growing into a whole land, does the fact
that the manufacturers have become two or
six or twenty, or even five hundred, if the
supply is not suffie.mt. alter one jot of tie
original idea? All high prices beyond cost,
and beyond the depreciation of the curren
cy, argue a monopoly, and our very oppo
nents admit that a monopoly alters the mor
als of the market price. It Spain was send
ing her hides, and Portugal, and the Pacific
coast; and if France and Russia, and our
own North American neighbors, were send
ing the manufactured leather, and that sup
ply is all suddenly cut off—the man who
has a tannery is like the man who has the
quinine shop, a man who has a monopoly
of what is vital to possess; and to trade on
this casualty, or on this sagacity, if such
has been the case, is immoral, hoste judice,
and just as immoral in these wider and
broader cases as w lit re it is shut up by a
wall. It is using a besieged condition to
force men, out of peril of their lives, to
concede to us under absolute necessity,
enormous and unheard-of compensations.
Now’, it will be observed, we have said
nothing of the golden iule—and for got d
reason. We scorn it in any such connec
tion.
Nor have we said anything of the pecu
liarity of our conscript laws; we end with
that presently.
We hold up the thing on its
merits, and say that anything Eke24oo per
Cent, which is the advance in the piice of
this particular n< cessary of life, betokens a
monopoly, and that no monopoly, peculiar
ly under straits like ours, ever reached a
height without a corresponding immorality
to be charged to the transgressor.
Now, as to the conscript laws, they are
these. They contemplate that all men are
to help the country. They absolutely take
all males except two classes. We have
-hown the difference. One are too weak ;
the other are too necessary to be spared
from home. We repeat the idea, that this
is a part of the argument from reason.—
What would even be right otherwise would
be wretchedly wrong in a case like this.—
For a man, spared out of a fight, to stay at
home on any such errand as we have at
tempted to consider, presents itself at the
edge of a rebuke at almost every angle in
which we can dare to look at it. In the
first place, it is not grateful; lor the hus
bands and fathers whom he is impoverish
ing at home are actually dying in this very
man’s defence. In the second place, it is
not useful ; for the very production which
he sometimes pleads would go on just as
well without him. The very wool that he
buys up or skins, if he were out of the are
na, would be manufactured cheaper by oth
er and more reasonable men. It is not po
litic, for we have never known it blessed ;
n«.r is it loyal, for it undermines the very
foundations we are building. It is not even
legal; at least, it can hardly be called so,
since every law-making body at the S< uth
is this moment trying to strike some blow
against it. It is not honorable; and tho’
we know there are a few honorable men
engaged in it, and have a pity for them on
account of the temptations of the times,
yet they are engaged in it, like D’ t tois
and Pichegru with C.tdoudal and the Chou
ans, in a sort of obliviousness of the compa
ny they are in, on account of the novelty
of the occasion, or certain peculiar entran
ces they have made into this particular pas
sage in the conduct of their affairs.
In the next article we shall mention such
excuses; and in the last, certain fundamen
tal objections to the theory we have framed.
Alamby.
The Clieri>kee Baptist Convention
Will meet with the church at ROME,
Ga., on Friday the 15th of May, 1803.
Visitors and delegates, coming by the
cars, will report to brother Stillwell at
the depot; those from the country, to a
Committee at the church.
All can be entertained.
D. W. Gwin.
THE GRAVE.
In Ileinoiiiini.
Alice Blance Forsythe wh- born November 18,
1857; translated, tlic night of the 3Uih April, 1563,
irutu her huher’s (A. B. F>>r.-j the) house in Atlanta.
“ We watched her breathing through the night,
Her urea'king soft and iovy,
As m he b>east the wave oi life
Kept heaving to and tro.
8a silently we seemed to .-peak,
So si >wiy moved about,
?.s we had lent her ualt uur power
To eke her living o ,r.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
O r fears uur hope- belied;
We thought her dsmg when she slept,
Aud sleeping when she died;
For a hen ihe morn came ditn and sad,
And <lllll with early sbow< rs,
Her quiet eyelids closed —she bad
Another inuiu tha-a ours.”
FRIEND.
Died, in Monroe county, on the 23d April, 1863,
1 at the re ideticC < f hi- lai her, utter a protracted li.-
! ne-s of seven weeks with tyi hoid lever and dysen-
I tery, which illness he bore with remarkatj epatiente
land resign iiion, Chaills Jo epii amus—in the
‘ 21-t ye wuf his age. He said lie wa- not afraid to
trust* h.inseli in the hand ot bis Saviour; that He
'.‘.a- more to him than parents anil ill earthly leia
! lions, lie desir dto receive', that he might i>eu-e
--lul in the cau-e ot that Savour, but felt thit.it
-uiutnoned away, it would be ri.ht and tor b s
greatest gouii; lb it t>e should be at rest in heaven,
where he desired his father to r< quest bis brothers
and sisters, aud ail bis friends,an a I his old school
mates, to meet. him. May all tho.-e tnends, whetl •
er in Uiawfurd, a hittie-id or Monroe counties, u
in -mbrr the djing request of our dear Chari e. He
proles el faith iu the oaviuur, and was baptiz d ty
Eider G. F. Cooper, a D illoti, iu 1859. He has le t
a family in sadness at.d mourning; ' ut we have the
i consolation to u H p«rt u-, that while we are t e
' is happy—while We mourn, he r juices in the i '*
ence oi that Saviour whom he orhghud ; ■ ,
aud who t ave him to us i«iee ', u '’ h , . Us.
him to Himseli at last—blessed be .
I