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[446] received, and learned that he was interred in their family cemetery, where I thought he had better rest. Mrs. P—— told me everything had been done that could be, and that she had written to your mother. Peace to his ashes and honor to his memory, and may God comfort and support us all!

He needs no tears who lived a noble life;
We will not weep for him who died so well,
But we will gather round the hearth, and tell
The story of his strife.
Such homage suits him well—
Better than funeral pomp and passing bell.

Lieutenant French Strother Bibb, of Charlottesville, Virginia, who fell at Chancellorsville bravely doing his duty in command of his guns of the Charlottesville Artillery, was my pupil when a boy, and I watched with deepest interest his development into the heroic man he proved himself to be, but above all I rejoiced that his simple trust in Christ grew stronger as the years went on. In a sketch of him it is said:

From Richmond the battery followed the fortunes of the field again until after the battle of Fredericksburg, when it settled down in winter-quarters at Bowling Green, Caroline county, Virginia. Here opportunity was afforded for the display of both the officer and the man. In the former capacity he was faithful, energetic, even ambitious, in the discharge of duty; in the latter he was genial and companionable, and by his good fellowship won the hearts of those under his authority, until, such was his popularity, scarcely a word of complaint was ever uttered against him.

In illustration of his Christian temper the following incident may be related: Visiting the guard-house, on one occasion, as officer of the day, he found imprisoned there a former schoolfellow and friend of his father. The man had known better days, but was now utterly degraded by long years of dissipation. Moved by the spirit of Him who came to “proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound,” Lieutenant Bibb sat down by him, spoke kindly to him — “The first kind words,” said the poor fellow afterwards, ‘that I had heard for many, many long years’—gave him some tracts to read, and proposed his release on condition he would promise to make an effort to reform. The promise was given, and the soldier left the guard-house, and went forth to duty.

The war was near its close—the young officer had long since

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