Littlefield, L. O. 1841 08 16 Letter in Times and Seasons Vol 2 No 20 pp 514-515
Few men ever lived more universally beloved and respected ‑‑ by both strangers and acquaintances, kindreds and friends itality, his generosity of sentiment, his benevolence of principle, his capability as an officer and his usefulness as a citizen ‑‑ are too indellibly impressed upon the hearts of this community, and the numerous circle of friends who are united to him by the endearing ties of natural affection, to be soon forgotten. With his brethren, he felt the grievous yoke of persecution ‑‑ which he was willing to bear for the sake of the religion he had espoused and which he ever struggled to perpetuate es now slumber in the silent tomb. “He lies full low, but he lies in peace” his spirit has gone to the God who gave it. Death has torn him from the wife of his bosom, and from the society of his little children; but he is at rest; his soul is emancipated; he feels no more the heavy hand of persecution; and the turmoils and adversities of this life, no longer agitate his peaceful bosom. He is taken from us for a little season; but we shall meet him again in that bright world, where the weary are at rest, and where sorrow and parting can never come. Then let the saints cease their lamentations; & thou, bereaved one, let those pungent sighs of heart‑felt anguish be hushed into repose; let that heaving bosom be calm; let that widowed heart be comforted, and those tears of sorrow dried up! You soon shall join him in a better world than this! The Almighty loved him and has taken him home to His bosom! He has been taken away in the prime of his manly strength; you have seen his “noble stature” ‑‑ like the fragile flower that yields submissively to the fury of the “muttering tempest” ‑‑ laid lifeless upon his untimely bier; you have followed him to the grave and seen him consigned to the silent bosom of the earth. He is gone; he departed like the dew of a summer morning, and his memory is to us like a pleasant dream.
Times and Seasons, Vol.2, No.20, p.514
Oh! death, thou destroyer of the human race! can nothing stay thy onward march? Must the high, the noble, the lovely, the courteous and the high minded of the earth, fall victims to thy rht avert thy claim upon the loved ones that are among us? Alas! thou art no respector of persons; to die is the common lot of man! The exalted and the debased, the king who sways the regal sceptre of unmitigated power and the humble suppliant at his feet, must alike be laid low by the monster’s unpitying sting. The utopian dreams of the aspirant for power, as well as the cherished hopes of the secluded plebeian, are unreservedly crushed by the interposition of thy ruthlt sorrow deep and grievous to be borne; thou makest husbands wifeless, wives widows, and children orphans! But when thou takest from us one who hath hope of eternal life, then can our sorrowing bosoms be comforted. Thou hath taken from us one whose unblemished integrity, whose high and noble bearing, and reciprocal feelings, have made a lasting impression upon the tablet of our affection, and raised him to a rank of eminence in society; but the blessed assurance that he has only bartered the respect of the world for endless joy and heavenly beatitude; calms our grief, dissipates our sorrow, and we repine not at the supreme will of our heavenly father. He has been laid low; in yonder grove ‑‑ in its surpassing beauty, a fit receptacle for the sleeping remains of exalted virtue and holiest innocence ‑‑ his noble person lies moldering into dust; no more to be animated with life, until the resurrection morn; when the graves of those who sleep will be opened, the barriers of the tomb be burst assunder, the dead resurrected,
Times and Seasons, Vol.2, No.20, p.514
And bone to bone, and joint to joint,
Times and Seasons, Vol.2, No.20, p.514
Will be together joined.
Times and Seasons, Vol.2, No.20, p.515
Mr. Editor; I have not made the foregoing remarks for the mere purpose of pastime; but I have made them as a tribute of respect to the worth of our departed brother. His hospitable hand has befriended me in the hour of adversity; his sympathizing heart consoled me int he midst of affliction; and now, the he is no more, let me pass me eulogy upon his name. I have spoken the feelings of my secret soul. Departed frienrs,
Times and Seasons, Vol.2, No.20, p.515
O. LITTLEFIELD.
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