The Weekly Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, O. [Ohio]) 1861-1???, 1862-12-24

hearts subducd 10 ave. We will enter Monticello
| There is group around his desth-bed in
yonder room, Every eve is ceutered on III,
visage OF dying man, the beautiful woman
whom you behold standing near his pillow he,
eyes eloquent with emotion il his beloved
child. A he rests before us, on the bed Of
death. the center OF the silent group, We viii
approach and look upon him mAn Of tall
and muscular frame, his face dcnoting, in every
marked feature, the power Of bold and fearless
intellect, his lip compressed with stern dctermi
nation, his blue eve ever a,shing with the lgh
Of soul born to sway the masses of men b,
the magic of thought
As we approach, he looks up in the face o.
the beautiful woman, and utters these memos
able words.
" Let no inscription be placed upon my tomb
but this: Here rests Thomas jefferson, the
suthor OF the Declaration Of Independence, and
the Friend of Religious Liberty"
As he speaks, he describes a faint gesture
With his withered right hand. That hand Gfty
year' ago, wrote the Declaration of Iudeprn-
dence. IL IL feeble and withcrcd now; time
was when 1t wrote certain words that sank into
the heart Of universal man, and struck the
shackles from ten thousand hearts.
Against the frauds prscticed by priests aud
kings from immemorial time - against the
tricks OF courtiers, the malice Of bigots, the
falsehoods of Time servers. who are paid to he
religious, hired TO be great - against all man.
ner of bar6arity, whether done by a New Zea-
land cannibsl, who eats the wretch he has
butchered, or the Spanish Inquisitiou, which at.
ter burning his victims, consgus them pleasantly
to an eternal torture after death - against all
upon man, the child of Divinity, - was directed
the eloquence OF his pen. The hand that once
Welded that pen of power, is now chilled with
the dAmp1 of death.
AS we stand gazing upon the diving man -
held enchtined by the majesty of thu. intellect
which glows brightly over the ashy face, aud
flashes vivdly in the clear blue eye the beau
tiiul woman takes the 10y hand, within her own,
and Kisses the cold brow.
The hand of Death is on him now.
THANK God that have lived to ace this
glorious day he u,tera in firm voice; and
then raising his glazing eyes he g,zes in his
daughters face, with the death rattle in hi4
throat -" N"nc DimittjS Domi"c i"~ were
the last words OF Thomas Jefferson.
At the hour of noon, when the fervid sun
poured straight down on the dome OF his her
mitage, when not n breath Of air rutiled the leaf
or stream, when in the midst of weeping thropg
stood his beloved daughter, placing her soft
fingers on his glossy eye-balls pressing her
warm mouth to his cold lips, died Thomas JEFF.
terson, the author OF the Declaration of Inds-
pendence.
He died some -four hours before Adams surren.
dered his soul When the Patriot of Qnincy
gasped, Jefferson still survives" the soul OF
Jefferson was already before bis God.
1t would have been deemed wonderful thing
h,d either of these men dieI on the Fourth o
July, just half - century after the day of l77G
But that the Brothers IN the work of Freedom
the Master Spirits of the Council, who stirred
up mems hearts with godlike impulses, and
moved their arms in glorious deeds, In the dark
hour of Revolution, should have died not only
on the same day, but within a few hours of each
other, while bodily-separated by hundreds ol
miles, their souls borne into heaven with
the hymns OF people freed by their labors
looks to me as though Almighty God had sen,
his Messenger and called his servants home,
thus sanctifying by this twofold death, the
fourth of July for evermore.
They met before the Throne of God, and
stood solemn and awful, before the throng o
heroes clustered there.
Now, oh Lord, dismissest Thou me,