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[for the Richmond Dispatch.][From the Gospel according to the Southern Confederacy, appointed to be read in all the Churches on Thanks giving day! "There was a certain rich man living in the Northern Metropolis, who was clothed in blue superfine, decked with medals and trimmed with gold, who fared sumptuously every day, upon the choicest luxuries of the national stores. And there was a certain suppliant named Old Dominion, venerable for age, of whose ancestry the rich man sprang. This poor man had been for many years robbed of his property, and when he complained, received insults and violence, with threats of death. He begged for a few constitutional crumbs which fell from the rich man's table, but was refused, and was left to bleed and die. The poor suppliant was carried by the angels of the heavens of the Southern Confederacy into Jeff Davis' bosom. The rich man also died, but was sent into, hell, (purgatory*) where he was severely, but justly tormented. He saw his former acquaintance afar off in Jeff Davis' bosom, and crid out, saying, ‘"father Davis' have mercy on me, for I am‘"Murt"’ and tormented in this flame of fire from Southern cannons, rifles, muskets, and ‘"Masked batteries;"’ I pray you send some angel from the Southern Confederacy, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue."’ But Jeff. Davis said:‘‘"Sr., unworthy son of the Old Dominion, remember that thou in thy lifetime, received the good things, and rendered to the Old Dominion nothing but evil things, and sought to culminate thy atrocity by the crime of parricide, in shedding the blood of thine own mother and all her family. And beside all this there is a great gulf fixed--(known as the Constitution of the Southern Confederacy)--guarded by the stout arms and true patriot hearts of braves, who know nothing but victory and freedom; so that those Union men who would have passed from hence to you, cannot,"’ Then, in despair, he said: "I pray thee, father Davis, that thou wouldst send some angel from the Old Dominion to my father's house, (twenty three free States [?]) where I have over twenty millions of brethren, that he may testify to them, lest they also come into this place of torment, and somebody ‘"gets hurt." ’ Davis said unto him, "They have Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and other patriotic prophets, as well as the Constitution; let them hear them." And he replied-- "Nay, father Davis; but perhaps if one were allowed to leave this Metropolitan, purgatory, where we are surrounded by Confederate heroes, and tell them how much we are 'hurt' and tormented, they will repent." And he said unto them, "If they hear not the voice of Washington, and the other faithful prophets, neither will they hear, though Lucifer, or Lincoln himself, were to be sent from purgatory to them." ’ The location of Purgatory, our modern geographer puts upon the map as the city of Washington.
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