The true Democrat., 1855-10-23
. MO-. 2.

constantly in paradise. Ispent the morning on our unsurpassed Green Bank with two friends, one of more than thirty years, who had come to put their children at the college. They left me with their little son, in the most perfect enjoyment of all that makes up life, to return to thelr homes in New York. In less than an hour heard of what had happened on the rail road thought at once of them, and rather flew than ran to find their mangled bodies.- tod had preserved them perfectly uninured.
 There came to me, from Boston. twenty years ago, young man,* who had early taken a high stand at the bar. He was of patriot name. the very blood of Bunker IIill His father had adorned the bench. His brother had not been surpassed, as historian, in modern times He had lived carelessly, and away from God. But his heart had been touched. It had melted under the gospel. It yearned to preach to others the unsearchable riches which had been more than rubies to itself. And he asked me to receive him as acanddate for holy orders. I dldso. Ihereare many here who must remem- Der him. He studied faithfully and we'll He was ordained. He went to Salem as the minis ter of the parish. He was most acceptable as preacher; and as pastor, most devoted He married as lovely a woman as ever lived His life was filled to overflowing with the double tide of usefulness and happiness.
 But " this is not our rest.' His health fail ed. He sought in vain its restoration. He went to sea- He died on board the ship. He left a widow, without children. Possessed of a handsome fortune, and what is better, with the sense that it was not her own, she was another Dorcas, in the "good works and the aims deeds which she did" At ten o'clock on "Wednesday she started with two dear friends, upon tour for health and recreation. And, in little more than an hour, had yielded up her soul to God. lSltnot true, that in the midst of life we arc in death?'' Do we or can we know "what shall be on the morrow?' Which one of us might not have been in that dsas- trous train? Which one of us might not have been of that dead company which filled our streets with collins, and hung our houses and our hearts with sack-cloth?
 My brethren, there can need no preacher to bring this mournful providence home to your heart of hearts. Those nearing trains. The signal to break up. That carriage on the track The crash. The crush. Car mounted upon car. Car rushing through the midst of ear The cloud of dust. The storm of splinters. The groan. The shriek. The wall. The wounded. The mutilated. The crushed.- The torn assunder. The buried alive. That fearful row upon the bank. The hurt. The dying. The dead. Our public houses filled with the maimed and mangled. Our public hall, receiving vault for unk known corpses. Our private houses so many hospitals. Every man servant. Every woman nurse.- Through that whole day business checked. The social currents all directed to one point Not an act, not a word, not a thought, but of the wounded. of the dying, of the dead. The very centre of our city choked graveyard. There is no human eloquence that IS not beg gared by such sermons as that scene preached to every heart God spoke and man was still. "In the midst of life, "all ielt-"i in the midst of lfe,-we gre in death."