r A SERMON PKK ACHED AT THE FUNERAL OF LIEUT. E B E R G . P R A T 1^ . CONaRE&ATIONAL' CHUECH.. SOIJTHBRJDGE, REV. M . L . RICHARDSON, PASIOU OF THE CHURCH IN GLOBE VILLAGE. P»R,IlSfTED BY REQUEST. SOUTHBRIDGE : JOURNAL OFFICE, PRINTED BY H. C. GRAY. 1865. IN THE BY S E 11 M 0 N PREACHED AT THE FUNERAL OF LIEUT. EBER C. PRATT, IX THE CONGREGATIONAL CHUECIL SOUTHBRIDGE, J33ECEM:I5EI^ 3 5 tlx, 18G4L,' BY KEV. ]M. L.RICHARDSON, ^ * PASTOR OF THE CHURCH IN GLOBE VILLAGE. I'lilNTED BY REQUEST. SOUTHBEIDaE : JOURNAL OrnCE, PRINTED BY H. C. GRAY. 1865. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/sermonpreachedat01rich SERMON ♦*HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN IN THE MIDST OF THE BATTLE? O, Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places.'— II Samuel, i. 25. It is little that words can do to add worth to character. Their office is to portray it. If, in their reach and fitness, the}^ fall below the reality and weight of the character described, it can be forgiven with far less effort than when the}' intemperately exaggerate. While a man lives, his life continually utters what he is. He needs none to praise or dispraise him, for neither can tear down the unyielding fabric of fact. When he is dead, and his lips sealed and speechless, the whole bulk and. sum of his character are known by those interested in him, and any memorial of it is what an affectionate respect delights to indorse. Eelative, friend, associate and fellow countryman, asks no panegyric but that which their own hearts readily respond to. And they do not desire it for the purpose of creating excellencies, but for the grateful mention of them. While life lasts, actions speak, and if they are noble, we love to hear of them when their author is gone. And there are some whose work and sacrifice on earth are so generous and far reaching, chat we are all bound to them b}^ ties of admiration and love. Thej^ are so unselfish, so devoted to the welfare of all, that a common interest centers in them. The departure of such an one, in the spring time of his manhood, calls us together to-day. W^ould that the spirit of the occasion and the sacredness of the hour might fill us with such thoughts and feelings as shall give us all a hallowed impulse for high and noble duty while we live. May nothing break the whole- some solemnity which ever should linger in our hearts when we stand 4 in the presence of death. The words chosen as the basis of 1113^ remarks at this time are expressive of a deep and tender affection. Their tone gives ns the idea that high and noble character had been cut down. They are at once broad in tlieir intimation of the worth that had van- ished from earth, and affecting in their embodiment of profound grief. What an opulence of endearing emotion, what a full utterance of bereavement, is found in the simple expression, " Oh, Jonathan !" — as if the thought of his departure rasped the spirit with anguish. Yfhat an estimate of the qualities that had blessed and rejoiced the mourner, through an intiinacy strong in its ties, delicate in its refinement and pure in its nature. Such a friendship, in a world where feeling can be pretense, and love be chilled by the frosts of deceit, is so choice and celestial, that we would not repress the sorrow that celebrates it, and is the measure of its value. There can be but little true respect and love, but little genuine grief- — grief in its highest, holiest quality — without goodness of character. Therefore the sacredest friendships on earth suggest and image forth something of the harmony of heaven. AYhen David heard of his loss, he wept and lamented, mingling his sorrow with the remembrance of his friend's excellencies and loveliness of character. He characterizes him as the mighty, the beauty of Israel. War, with its grim greed, had ravaged his spirit, and sent an arrow of agony through his sensibilities. The same fell depredator has come into these bereaved hearts and asserted its remorseless demands. Other hearts in this and other communities have felt the harshness of its t^^rann}^, and are bleeding under its blov^ s. It is mournful to see how furiousl}^ he sends his deadly missiles among our young men, blasting the hope and promise of future usefulness and pov^^er. A new victim has been m.arked, by a grievous wound, and finall}^ summoned to fall before the destroyer. The community have been for weeks in sj^mpathetic suspense, hoping it might be the will of Him who never' errs, to thwart the energies of exhaustion and save the precious life. His wisdom has otherwise determined, and we are gathered to pay our sincere and heartfelt respect to the friend, the patriot, the hero and the Christian brother, and to mingle our unaffected commiseration with the iinguish that stings these afflicted relatives. They mourn— not without hope, not without a just and sorrowful satisfaction that nature unites them to such worth — the removal of an affectionate husband, a dutiful son and beloved brother. We, with them, mourn the loss of a patriot, whose deeds and character we gratefully cherish and would earnestly emulate. We nsk these bereaved friends of the deceased to allow us, 5 neighbors, acquaintances and those bound to him by the ties of Chris- tian brotherhood, to unite our regard and affection with their grief, as those who reap the benefit of his costl}^ sacrifice. And we exchiim, in the words of the text, " IIow^ are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle !" How man}^ devoted Christian men, whose holy and molding influence upon our fntnre histor}^, had they lived, can not be calculated, have fallen, to disinthrall our nation from, the clutch of slavery, anarchy and despotism. Some sleep in the quiet of their native North, where the tear of affection can moisten their honored graves. Some sleep in soil not only cursed with slavery, but rendered infamous by being the birthplace and home of the assassins of human rights and enemies of the truest rule. Wherever they lie, they are offerings upon the altar of human progress and sacred libert}^, which we rejoice the nation had moral elevation and nobleness enough to make, while we and generations to come nnist mourn their loss and revere their memory. The respect and feeling that are manifested for our countr3^'s defenders and heroes are the index and measure of our love and devotion to its destiny and success. If our hearts do not pulsate with patriotic anxiety for our nation's supremacy, unity and triumph — especiall}-^ for its purification and deliverance from the rot of consuming iniquity — we shall have but little feeling for those vdio die bearing the banners of freedom against its foes. We honor our liber- ties, we honor ourselves, when we honor those who fall in the struggle of the nation for perpetuity and the power to bless the world. We must remember their sufferings, sacrifices, their noble daring and heroic constancy. Time's patient industry must be made to find that these impressions are indelible upon our hearts. The virtues, devotion to right, unshaken love of country, honor and personal goodness of those who, under God, are the purchase of our deliverance, must remain a miglity power and inspiration, that shall be a bulwark for our defense^ down through the distant future. What sentiments, feelings and memories do the granite shafts in our own State, reared in honor of brave men of the Revolution, utter forth ! How our devotion to civil and religious liberty is kindled and inspired, when w^e think of or stand beside these sacred memorials ! What bondage, ignominy and suffer- ing do they tell us w^e have been delivered from ! — what blessings, immunities, actual and possible elevation, they have introduced us to I If w^e do not keep fresh in our memor}^ those who have died in tliis conflict, if we do not gratefully recognize their worth of character, we shall not trnusmit to those who come after us a truthful knowledge of G tlie cost and value of our institutions. Eutliless insurgents may again .rise and attempt to trample our dearest rights in the dust, if they see all reverent respect for the men and deeds which were the terror of tyrants obliterated from the people. It is a fact that must not be forgotten, that patriotism does not hallow and ennoble vicious and unmanly qualities in those who may die in the cause of right. They merit and receive the sincere gratitude of every lover of our country. Their sacrifice of life is the highest gift they could offer for the dignity of the nation. Their prowess and fidelit}^ are just as carefully estimated as that of the best men. But their loss is of a numerical and material nature rather than a moral. The richest legacy they possessed — their life — was a better contribution to the conflicts of war than it would be for molding and blessing society, when the strife is passed. Vf hen v/e contemplate the degeneracy and corruption which war inevitably generates, and think of the wave of possible evil that may fiovf back from camps and battle-field experiences, vfe sometimes tremble for the safety of the success which God's providence seems now to foretoken. It will be sad if, in winning a final victor}^, after a long, bloody and variable struggle, we find ourselves in possession of weapons fitted for our own personal overthrovf. Hence v/e can not but be anxious to see returning to the bosom of society, from the field of conflict, energetic, unaffected piety, chastened, solidified and deepened by the heiy ordeal it has passed through. A young Christian man, vath God-like purpo- ses, pure motives and impulses, broad views, a generous and self-de- nying devotion to the right, is and will be a pillar in the structure of our national prosperity and usefulness. While they are first to spring- to our nation's defense, they are the ones we sutler most in sparing. The Bible is the best compendium of political principles, which must eventually obtain in the world, and active, sincere men, haidng its truths thrilling their hearts, are the men we need most to fight our moral wars. This is a point v»^hich should sink deeply into our hearts, that the gospel of Christ, in its purity, comprehensiveness and power, is the hope of our future. Its spirit of freedom, its searching demands, which will not accept form for substance, these must permeate and inspire the nation. Says one: "Nothing but personal convictions, earnestly acquired by the sweat of our brow, can destroy selfishness in us. The United States have in their heart strong convictions, which are also common convictions. We have seen that all earnest appeal to Christian truth agitates the country from one end to the other. To place one's self under the al)solute authority of God and His vrord, V is to acquire, in the face of mere parties, majorities and general opinions, an independence that nothing can suppl}'. The independ- ence within is always translated without. There exist, thank God, between liberty and the gospel, close, eternal and indestructible relations. I know of one species of freedom which contains the germ of all the rest — freedom of soul. Now what is it, if not the gospel, that has introduced this freedom into the world." And it is the gospel in the life, in the actions, in the very being, swajdng, controlling, beautifying its possessor, and blessing ever}^ one, that is the bulwark of freedom. It is not the gospel imprisoned between the dust}^ covers of the neglected bible, which has an influence, but it is the bible, warming, animating and fortif3dng the lining soul, that confronts sin and wounds its energies. God in his merc}^ has pre- served the precious truth througli the dust and blindness of the dark ages ; but it took on its mighty power indeed when conveyed by the spirit it took possession of the reformers of the sixteenth century. Since then the principles of true progress and of the best government have risen to povfer, as from the tomb. Terrible has been the strife with the inveterate forces of absolutism and sin. Manfulty have martyrs upon the gallows, at the stake, in the dungeon and upon the rack, braved the ravenous hatred that true religion provoked. Upon fields of carnage, too, has the conflict raged, and many noble men have fallen. The same old question, in a different form, is given to our age and nation to decide. And it causes the choicest blood of our sons and brothers to flow like water. One and another, and another, and another, and to-day we are summoned to lay another in his final resting place. Eber Carpenter Pratt was born in Southbridge, Mass., January 18th, 1840. He exhibited the usual characteristics of children, having, however, contrary to some, a gentle, amiable temper. The following is illustrative of the cast of his mind. At five years of age, being sick with a fever, he one day seemed grave and thoughtful. On being asked what he was thinking about, he replied, in quiringi}^ "What if I should die — God would not send me among the bad people, would he?" At nine he was the subject of quite deep religious impressions. At sixteen he became a Christian, and united with the church in Globe Village, where he was a member beloved and honored. He enlisted in his country's service July 11th, 1862, and was a member of Company H, 34th Eegiment Massachusetts Volunteers. Having served Avith the Regiment a year, his irreproachable character, collected 8 intrepidity and soldierly qualities, caused him to be promoted to a, Lieutenanc}^ in the 6th United States Colored Troops. He was stationed at Fortress Monroe and Yorktown, and held the position of Provost Marshal of the latter place for several months. When in camp near Yorktown, he writes that General Butler kept the colored brigade in vigorous service, "first at New Kent Court House, then at Portsmouth, then in King Williams County, then at Matthew's Court House, Mid- dlesex County, across the Rappahannock in Lancaster County, and then back to Yorktown." While on an expedition whose object was the capture of bushwhackers and rebel soldiers home on furlough, his manty courtesy and attractive qualities drew from a courtly young lad}^, sparkling with fierce Southern spirit, the following wish: " That if ever he should be taken prisoner, he might be treated with the same kindness he had shown to her family." After this he was placed upon the staff of Gen. Carr, at Bermiida Hundred, then in front of Pe- tersburg. But his ardent and valuable life was nearing its close. On the morning of the 29tli of September — being then upon the staff of Col. Duncan — his brigade Tras ordered to march to make an assault upon the enemy at Chapin's Bluff, or Farm, a place three miles from the James river, on the road from Aiken's landing to Richmond. He marched from four o'clock until past five, when they came upon the enemy. At a quarter before six — the skirmish line being just before him, and the mainline just to the rear — he was struck by a minieball, which shattered the bone of the right leg above the knee. He was instantly conscious that it was a serious wound. He gathered up his spirits to their intensest endeavors, and attempted to remain in the saddle and ride from the field. But the rapid exhaustion would not permit him. He now tried to lower himself to the ground, and fell in the attempt. Colonel Duncan ordered aid to him. Several flew to his assistance. He, with his characteristic and heroic self-forgetfulness, told them to go on, and leave him. Two men stayed by with him, one of whom was captured by the rebels before the other, who had carried his sword and revolver to the rear, could return with a stretcher to convey him thither also. Soon, the federals falling back, he found himself in the hands of the rebels. They spoke kindly to him, saying that his wound was too severe to make it an object to secure him as a prisoner. They, however, robbed him of his watch, hat, cap, haversack, w^oolen and rubber overcoats. He lay upon the ground a part or all of the time for two hours, in the terrible track of battle, where the deadly sleet incessantly showered around him. In this fiery ordeal, he quietly picked the spires of grass that grew near, one of which a bullet rudely snatched from his fingers. At the end of two hours, the fortunes of the contest were with our army again, and he was cheered by the sight of his comrades and men sweeping past him, with the enemy in the disadvantage. This filled him with fervent enthusiasm, not merely because he should be among Mends again — ive will rejoice that he was, if he did not — but because the cause he loved was in the ascendanc}^ He was soon after conveyed away to the rear. His limb was amputated about eight hours after being wounded, in a little tent, near the river at Deep Bottom. A Major, who had some acquaintance with him, said subsequently, that he was the coolest, patientest, calmest man, in such testing circumstances, he ever saw. When asked by one — with a look and tone expressive of the calamity, pain, danger and loss — if he was going to have his leg taken off"? he calmly answered yes, as if harrowed with no apprehen- sions and daunted with no prospects of sufiering. In a letter to his friends, Oct. 3d, he says : " I do not suffer much ; I could suffer more and bear it" — evidently having a full comprehension of the fact that a soldier enlists to suffer as well as fight. A deadly disease, which ope- rated to distribute the purulent poison arising from his wound through his system, broke his strength and hopes of life, and he died on the 15th pf this month, just eleven weeks and seven hours after being struck b}'- the murderous missile. On Monday, three dsiys before his death, he received a commisson, appointing him to a First Lieutenancy, as a special mark of honor, signed by Gen. Butler. It stated that he received this consideration for the meritorious qualities of lo3^alt3-, courage, prudence and ability." Deferring now, for a few moments, some account of his last hours, let me speak of the sentiments, feel- ings, principles and characteristics which premised and promised so much in futiu-e life. I have not ascertained specifically his success as a scholar in the school. But it is manifest, from the briskness, bril- liancy and sweep of his mind, that it could not be satisfied with any- thing less than an accurate scholarship. His writing indicates that his powers were of that class which grasp at learning firmly, and so digest it, that it becomes assimilated to the very muscle and nerve of the brain. It so thoroughly masters what it attempts, that wisdoM is poured upon it in return, as if from heaven. His mind was remarkably versatile and active, as his correspondence shows. It was well bal- anced, being permeated by the solid and everlasting principles of right. Though an undisguised detestcr of slavery and despotism, he did not 2 id iindeiTate the difficulties connected ^vith tlie awful scourge. Eagle- eyed to see the dark deformity of the atrocious evil, he did not fondly expect its downfall without some severe sacrifices and shakings. This is one of the highest and best kinds of mind. To be able to see the Satanic subtlety of wrong, to see also its decent and often attractive exterior, and yet to be so calm as never to lose one's temper and equa- nimity, never to rage and paralyze one's efforts by impatience and an ineffective disgust. Of this class of intellect and heart, we have a prominent illustration in that great man who has just swept through the Eden of the confederacy with his invincible and victorious battalions- It is just the type of man and principle we most need to defend and dignify our nation. Therefore we the more keenly feel our loss to-day. A noble soul has gone to his rest, to be active, earnest, useful and effi- cient no more on earth. The following paragraph from one of his articles, written three years ago this present month, will show his faith in the ability under God of the peopk to crush this rebellion : "So earnest is the determination among the people at large to compass these ends, and so strong is their faith in their own will and power, that they have entered upon the struggle with the zeal and confidence which the strong man feels when about to cope with his inferior antag- onist ; and the strength of purpose b}^ which the people are moved has the force of religious conviction, the enthusiasm of most ardent patri- otism, the energy of a righteous anger, the consciousness of an indom- itable courage, and the certainty of an overw^helming power to carry it out." Again, further on, in the same piece : " The boom of the rebel cannon which smote the air w^hen Sumter w^as attacked was the knell of slavery, rung by the blood-stained hands of its infuriated votaries. The last act of the drama will be the burial of the last relic of barba- rism by the constitutional power of the Union it has insulted and sought to overthroAv" — a prophecy we are likely to see fulfilled. And do I need to speak of his patriotism ? Let these coffined remains, w'ound in the affectionate folds of that noble flag he died to defend, in their silent eloquence describe the tj\:>e of his devotion to his country's honor. Kemains of our brother, did I say ? Yes, truly the remains — for not the W' hole of his manly form lies before us ; a part had sought its grave before the summons of death came to him, and lies in an unknown resting place. A strange confusion of feeling came over me, as I stood beside his entirely open coffin. My ejes rested upon the emaciated cheek, the closed eye, the prominent brow and forehead. I saw the 11 folded hands, and the apparel that should — but did not — enclose both of the lower extremites. Only one foot projected from the covering. I had heard of the eloquence of the vacant sleeve of a living man, who had lost an arm in battle ; but, thought I, what is the subdued and sorrowful eloquence of a dead hero's partly vacant garment for the graA^e ! But I v? ill let his living lips speak his sentiments of love and interest for his countrj-'s success and elevation. "When before Peters- burg, he writes : "I could not consent to go home and live, while my comrades are here. I want to see this war ended, and I want to be in the army until it is ended." Again, when at Bermuda Hundred, he says : "I want to see my country righted, sustained ; and I am here to help her. God grant that no i:)olitical factions s^all cause her ruin. O, if the United States should lose their power, what should I do ? All that is or was great, glorious or true, would be cast into oblivion. I cannot see my country destroyed. I despise and hate, from the bottom of my heart, those men who stand on the platform of peace, when there mn he no peace. I am for a wholesale prosecution of this war until the rebellion is quelled." August 28th, last, he writes: '^If my countr}^ should finally fail into possession of the South and such traitors as are now conspiring in the event, I could not wish to live." At the time of the election, at five o'clock one evening, he inquired the result of the btiliot. The news had not then reached the place. He slept, and waking again at twelve, he inquired if the news had come. When told that all l)ut two or three of the Northern States had voted for Union and the demolition of the revolt, he exclaimed, with hearty unction : That is good 1 I can lie here six months with pleasure, now !" These words, and the sacrifices he has made for his country's per- petuit}' and our good, show how indissolubh* was a sacred patriotism incorporated into the verv texture and substance of his being. They speak to us all. that we may be anxious to uphold and cherish the liberties which cost so dearh'. Let us heed their sad significance, and strive to honor our heritage of blessings In' a high Christian manliness and undoubted piet}'. These alone are our nation's hope and the hope of the world. The skill and excellence of our brother as a writer and literary critic, deserve special notice. His emploA'cr declares that his devotion to business, his sharp, quick anal3'sis of what came before him, and the ease with which he selected what was good and rejected the indif- ferent, fitted him to take a high stand as a reporter or editor. His 12 style was the transcript of the man, as is the fact universaUy. "St3'le is no mechanical product, that can be formed by rules ; but it is the outgrowth and image of the mind." We seem to see the exercises of our departed brother's mind upon the jjaper, and it becomes redolent with his spirit. Choice and expressive words, an easy and felicitous arrangement of them, a harmonious and rythmic rush of language and sentiment, draw one almost insensibly on to the end of his efforts. His musical talents were of a high order. A refined taste, a clear insight into the principles of music, and a free and expressive ex- ecution upon the instrument, gave proof of power in this art, that might be cultiyated so as to insure an enviable success. In con- nection with executing upon the pedals of the organ, he felt sad and fearful when he was deprived of his limb. He intended to make music a life stud}^, and hence his disappointment at so sore a loss. But he soon cheered himself with the thought that art would come to his aid, and that a nerveless limb might 3'et do the delicate work. His talent and love for music were innate, and discovered themselves at a very early period. Irresistably and instinctively drawn to the instrument, he made rapid progress in phiying. When a mere boy he was engaged to play the organ for the Society in Globe Village, in which place he was welcomed to the social circle with genuine interest and cordiality. So true were his sentiments, so manly his bearing, and so courteous his demeanor, that he adorned and honored any gathering. He was gifted, sa3^s a disinterested acquaintance, in the ability to say and act those things which interest and attract in the social gathering. Plaving attended a musical convention at Worcester, he wrote out for the paper such valuable and suggestive criticisms upon it, that the man- agers sent for several copies for their own satisfaction and benefit. And in criticisms upon church music, written while resident in New York, he shows what a grasp and understanding of the subject he had. But I come now to his highest, brightest, best and most desirable quality — he was a true Christian. Without this, all the excellencies I have named would not comfort, benefit and bless him now. He was heir, by faith, to an incorruptible crown, that fadeth not away. He had a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. He was vitall}^ united to that Redeemer who has gone to prepare mansions for those Avho love him. The life in the soul — which was the basis and pledge of his hopes, sustained by celestial 1 o agencies — gave a charm, a beaut}', a completeness and a wealth to his character, for which nothing could be substituted. At the age of sixteen, he was the subject of that blessed change which develops and blossoms into an immortality of bliss. lie felt himself to be a helpless sinner, needing and perishing without a personal interest in Clmst. He soon found peace to his soul, and united himself with the church. His example and walk were salutary and circumspect. He loved the pra^^er meeting, and often took part in its exercises. His exhortations were urgent, edifying and good. He said what tended to give the meeting life and interest. The brethren and sisters in the church remember him with fraternal respect, and mourn his death with un- affected sorrow. And they gather here to-day to express their pro- found regret that so useful and promising a life is cut off, and that they shall see his face no more on earth. After his removal to New York, he won the affection of Christian brethren by his consistenc}^, piety and fidelitj^ Sweet are the words which have been uttered by those associated with him in the church there. Since being in the army — that crucible of temptation — nothing has transpired to mar the beauty of his religious character. A chaplain, who saw him occasionally, after inquiring tenderly for him and his condition, said that he manifested a sweet and beautiful spirit ; that he gave evidence of a most genuine and thorough Christian experience. He desired to recover and enter the army again ; but was submissive and patient, saying that he did not feel afraid to die. A beloved brother who watched over him writes to friends : " He is very happ}', and this morning, about four o'clock, he prayed and sung, ' Jesus, lover of m}^ soul.' So sweet and tender and tremulous was his voice, that my eyes filled with tears." Another brother writes : " Thursday night he made a prayer. Among mau}^ other things, he asked that he might be restored to health, so that he might return to the field and help fight the battles of his country. His words were : ' I have lost a limb, but I am willing to lose it for my countr}- . O m}' countrj^, my country ! Lord save her ! O save her. Lord ! May she be great and glorious ! may she be restored to peace, and the banners of right- eousness be spread throughout the land ! I love my country ! I love my country ! ' He also said : ' I have suffered much, and suppose I must suffer more. I am willing ; I am willing. If it be Thy will to take me aAvay, Thy will be done.' He would sing, ' Rock of ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee ;' and, ' Jesus, lover of my soul,* saying that these sacred lyrics kept his spirits up." He gradually grew weaker, until death closed the sad and impressive scene. 14 Thus has passed away a beloved Christian brother, a heroic patriot, a worthy and yaluable man. Our loss is his eternal gain. His life, words, deeds, convictions, sacrifices and sufferings, are the best eulogy that can be given. To these mourning friends — a widowed wife, bereaved parents, sorrowing brothers and sisters — we tender our heartiest S3^mpath3^ Your grief is both relieved and intensified by the worth of him who is gone. When in the sweetest converse and en- jo3anent with earthly friends, the thought will intrude that the heart may be stung with the agony of separation. Seek not at once to check the fountain of your grief, but pray for a hallowed resignation to the will of Him who doeth all things well. Your sorrow is the measure of your love. It is sacred to the memor}^ of the loved and lost. You who mourn a kind and tender husband, are exercised with a sadness too deep, too precious, too sacred to be the object of public gaze. As the years of j^our life shall roll around, and you reflect upon the melancholy significance of the fact that the burial of your beloved husband occurred on 3'our birthday, may you be enabled to understand more and more the profound mystery and meaning of life. May a vital union with Him who can fill the void He himself in wisdom has made, make even this severe trial a good yon can ever revert to with a chastened jo}'. The stricken parents may seek to have their wounded hearts healed b}^ reflecting upon the goodness which gave them such an oflTering to place upon the altar of God and humanity. And we hope, in a restored, elevated and redeemed country, they may ever experience a reward for their opulent gift for its perpetuity and life. These brothers and sisters will not fail to remember the heroic soldier and Christian, who, in the morning of his manhood, was transferred to the celestial city. Cherish his honored and beloved memory. Yes, you will say. The idea of thy life shall sweetly creep Into my study of imagination ; And every lovely organ of thy life Shall come appareled in more precious habit, More moving, delicate, and full of life Into the eye and prospect of my soul. Than when thou livedst indeed." And now, what lessons do this occasion, and this Providence, and this life, preach to us all ? Shall these costly sacrifices be lost ? Shall the work begun, and progressing so grandl}', be checked and stopped 15 for want of [)atriotic devotion to ' our liberties ? Shall the blessed principles and truths, which are our onl}^ hope, be disregarded? Shall we make the sacrifice of these noble lives of no avail, and of no worth ? "We must earnestl}^ seek to dignify and transmit, unimpaired, the bles- ings which such sufferings defend and purchase. And in this solemn event, God summons every one in this assembly to a prompt and hearty submission to His will, to a manly and earnest Christian life. It is such a reasonable and righteous demand, that its neglect is hazardous, *'And I know that His commandment is life everlasting." Ma}^ the early departure of this Christian patriot disturb our drowsiness, and urge us to holy and heroic achievement. May it arrest our at- tention, awaken our thoughts, soften and subdue our hearts, so that the Divine Spirit shall be welcome there, to convict, convert, sanctify and save. Then, in a new and lofty sense, will our brother's death be to us a sacred inheritance.