nineteenth and ninetieth Psalms.
Sweet was that evening's communion: it was our last.
The chief end of God's providence is to teach men, and the value of his lessons is generally according to their difficulty.
How golden the knowledge, how sweet the joy we may work out from this great sorrow.
We had hoped for George a glorious future.
Shall it be less bright because not wrought out in our presence?
At the terrible battle of Antietam
, George fell as his regiment was rallied for the last time.
His friend, Lieutenant Hill
of the same regiment, and, like him, a former member of the Salem
Light Infantry, says, in a letter to his friends:—
I have gathered all the facts concerning George's death, and will give them to you in detail, knowing as I do how anxious you must be to know the minutest particulars.
George was wounded by a fragment of shell which struck him just below the right knee, shattering the bone, and a ball also passed through the fleshy part of the same leg, just above the knee.
The enemy was following us closely at the time, and we were obliged to leave him on the field in care of James H. Heath, a young man of his company.
The Rebels came up, and were about to take Heath prisoner, but George begged so earnestly to have him remain with him, that they allowed him to do so. Shortly after, the Rebels were driven from their position, and George was borne to a haystack by some of our soldiers, who represent him as cheerfully taking leave of them when they returned to the regiment.
He was subsequently taken to the nearest hospital; but the fatigue of the previous month, together with the loss of blood, made him very weak.
He fainted several times while being taken to the hospital; still, although suffering a great deal of pain, he was perfectly conscious till he died, thanked Heath for his kindness to him, and requested him, in case he died, to write to his family, giving him their address.
He conversed freely and cheerfully until between three and four o'clock the same day (Wednesday, 17th), when he began to fail, and continued to sink rapidly till he passed quietly from the sleep of life to the sleep of death, being conscious to the last.
His last words were, “My mother, O my mother!”
We all feel that in losing George we have met with an irreparable loss.
How can we feel otherwise when, by his kind and cheerful disposition, his upright and honorable dealings with all, and his brave and unflinching courage, he has bound himself so closely to all of us. He well deserved the compliment I once heard