Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1885-08-13

der any circumstances. My expected
death called forth expressions of SINGER
est kindness from all the people, of all
sections of the country. The Confeder-
ate soldier Wed with the Union soldier
in sounding my praise. The Protestant,
the Catholic and the Jew appointed days
for universal prayer in my behalf. All
societies passed resolutions of sympa-
thy for me and petitions that 1 might
recover. 1t looked as if my sickness
had had something to do to bring
about harmony between the sections.
The attention of the public has been
called to your children and they have
been found to pass muster. Apparently
1 have accomplished more while appa-
rently dying than it falls to the lot of
most men to be able to do" "OiLet me
die the life of the righteous and let my
last end be like his!"
And where, in all the annals of the
church, shall we find a dying hour SO full
of divine repose? His calm faith in a
future state was undisturbed by anxious
doubt. His suffering and wasted body
was but the casket for the resplendent
jewel of his soul, and when death ruth
lessly broke that precious casket, an an
gel carried theiewel to the skies to lay
1T at the Savior's feet. In the early light
of April l, when although the end was
come, the sufferer said to me: doctor, l
am going"
81 hope the prospect for the future
is clear and bright" was my response !;
and the answer came: "Yes; oh, yes"
Then followed a scene of infinite ten
derness. The honored wife, the precious
daughter, the devoted sons and their
wives, each in turn approached, and he
tenderly kissed them. "Do you know me-
darling?" was the loving wife's inquiry,
and he whispered back, Certainly do,
and bless you with all my heart Such
love melted the marble heart of death,
and the king of Terrors" fled alright
ed. The sufferer revived. Heaven add
ed months to life so dear to US all.
When he had recovered sufficiently,
asked him: What was the supreme
thought on your mind when eternity
seemed so near?"
"The comfort of the consciousness
that l had tried to live good and hon
orable life," was the response which re-
vealed the hidden life of his soul
Again the angel of death cast his
shadow over the one a nation loved.
Amid the gathering gloom said: "You
have many awaiting you On the other
side.'
"Iwish they would come and not lin
ger long," was the answer of his Chris
tian faith and hope. They came at last.
They came to greet him with the kiss of
Immortality. They came to escort the
conqueror over the "last enemy" to a
coronation never seen on thrones of
earthly power and glory. Who came
His martyred friend, Lincoln? His
companion in arms, McPherson? His
faithful chief of staff, Rawlins? His
great predecessor in camp and cabinet,
Washington? And did not all who had
died for liberty come? o! calm, brave,
heroic soul, sing thou the song of Chris
tian triumph: 20, death, where is thy
sting, o, grave, where is thy victory p
Thanks be to God, which giveth US the
victory, through Jesus Christ, our Lord"
And that victory was at hand. From
his view on Monday at the eastern out
look he was to ascend to behold grander
vision. Tuesday came and went. Night
drew on apace, and death seemed immi-
nent. Around his chair we knelt in
prayer for some divine manifestation of
comfort Our prayer was heard. The
sufferer revived. Again he wrote mes
sages of love and wisdom. The night
wore away. Wednesday dawned on hill
and dale. Hope revived. His intellect
was clear and his consciousness was su-
preme. Again he wrote, and again he
whispered the wishes of bis heart. AS
came the eventide, so came his last night.
From out of that chair wherein be had
sat and suffered, and wrote and prayed,
tenderly he was carried to that couch
from which he was never to rise. Around
him we gathered and bowed In prayerl
to commend his departing spirit to the
love and mercy of Him who gave it. Hell
answered in monosyllables to questions
for his comfort. The brain was the last
to die. All were watchers on that men,
orable night. Recognitions were ext
changed. A peaceful death and con
sciousness to the last breath were grant
ed to him. The last night had passed.
'Tis morning. The stars have melted
into the coming light. The rosy fingered
morn lifts the drapery of the night. The
distant mountains stand forth aglow
The soft pure light of early dawn covers |
earth and sky. The dewdrop sparkles |
on the grass and in the daisy's cup. The
birds from their sylvan coverts carrol
the melody of a thousand songs. The |
world rejoices, and its many minstrels |
challenge the harpers of the sky. In a
humble cottage, prone upon his couch,
lies "our old commander" He is dying
'Tis morning, and in the light of that
day thousands of earnest faces flash with |
renewed concern. From many shaded
lane and mountain slope, from many
farm house and splendid mansion, eager
eyes look toward the mount of suffering
and breathe prayer to God for the one
we loved. Alas! He is dead.
'Tis morning. 1t is the promise of
brighter day. The trumpeters of the