The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1877-11-17
A Fine Speech.

III the Virginia Annual Conference Of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, South, on
wednesday, when the name OF j. j. Latter
ty was called, he asked the privilege OF
making few personal remarks:
"Twentv years ago | was licensed to
preach in this city. When / entered the
ministry l had no thought OF making
Jeremiah of myself, but took for my scrip
tural motto, when thou fastest annoint
TN head and ,cush thy face l have never
worn coats OF any particular color or that
were long in the faith. 1t may be, however,
that Peter wore Shad-jelHed coat because
he was fisherman.
every member remembers his first Con-
ference. ] not only remember my first, but
particularly the Conference OF 1862. There
were seven speeches made on one subject.
Granberv led off and the sainted Cowles
closed. The burden Of the speeches was
that the statistics showed that the Eir-
sinia Conference had less representation
in the chapancy Of the Army OF North
ern Virginia than any other Church. l
was urged to 60, but / said | knew that
warm feather-bed was better than sleeping
on the ground wrapped in a blanket; knew
that good, fat duck was better than hard
| tack and scant rationS; knew that COM
Portable fireside at home and neat apparel
was better than brcechcs frozen in mud and
a coat so icy that it ratified like egg-shells,
as I afterwards did. knew all these things.
CRANBERRY talked mighty well, and Cowles
came to me and put his hand ON my shout
der, and said, John, want you to go;
you ought to co. DC. But hung back
and went to my parsonage, but the faces OF
Granbery and Cowles haunted ME like
Banquo's ghost, and would not down.
Well, l went, and was brought to
skeleton and left to die, and tore blank
| leaf out OF an old book OF army regulations
to write few lines Of farewell TO the dear
ones at home, and to bid goodbye to the
Virginia Conference. They handed me into
an ambulance and put me out at the springs
in the Valley, and after a long time / was
| in part restored. | had sort of q supersti-
ton about those waters, and wanted to get
rs near to them as I could, and at the close
of the war remained ut the Valley village,
but / longed and yearned to cross to the
sunrise side OF the mountains; and there in
that Valley, from the Lees to the lowest
man, woman, or child. no one has been
found who ever lifted word against me-
and when one OF my comrades In the MN
| istry was lying ut deaths door, then took
| hold of the plough and guided 1t as best
cOulQ unlff lie Was IeStoleu' We" NY
| first Methodist preacher that ever preached
| in those great old Scotch-Irish Presbyterian
churches. | never return there without
finding not only my own, but every church
| omen to me, and one Presbyterian church
has a standing invitation on pc: tai for me
| TO preach for them, and when l was leaving
the best people in all tue communions came
around me and begged me to rcmain-some
with whom I had merely enjoyed hand
shaking mountaineering. But ! looked
this way, and longed to come, though l
knew could not keep pace with the sta!-
wart men. No JOY OF my heart so filled me
as that which I experienced when l re-
turned to the Virginia Conference. knew
! should be some hundreds OF dollars poorer
and separated from my family. sometimes
went back TO find some OF the children
dead. I have endeavored to do my very
best in that Advocate office. want no
dignity, no honors; let your gifts be 10
others. II you will allow me to herald your
labels and your triumphs, ana 10
wash the saints feet, it is enough.
know cannot come to old age. The pains
that SO often hail me make me sometimes
wish that was quietly sleeping with my
comrades-in-arms; and, like Eneas, eX-
claim, .phrice happy they that died under
the walls Of sacred Troy ] feel that the
King Of Terrors, for Inc, cannot be far in
the future. / have but one desire and one
Ihope-that when I die it may be said OF me,
l. Not for filthy lacre, but OF ready mind
The did what he cou.d.'"