cheer the heart,
and the sweet caresses of little ones, as they gather around him
in the quietude of his evening hours. These are the clouds of
war that hand heavy with widows' tears, a mother's grief, a sister's
The Seventy-Eighth Regiment has lost many of its very best and bravest men. Death in every form seems to love the beautiful and the good, and selects such as companions, in its cold and chilly abode. It delights to walk where it can cause to flow the most tears, the deepest sorrow, and most painful grief; the best husband, the best son and brother, are death's delights and chosen ones. When in battle, and any one fell dead, or mortally wounded, the Captain would say, "That is one of my best and most reliable men."
The regiment when it left the State, had a strong religious element; men who were active, living, earnest Christians. The greater proportion of these have fallen; men whose loss the regiment deeply felt, and who will be much missed at home, and by their friends. Truly, the best blood of the land has been poured out to make sacred our country's flag, and baptise anew the principles which it represents.
This fact should lead our national authority to cherish her noble institutions, and to consecrate themselves anew to labor for her welfare; and to give to patriotism a significance of meaning that will shame the demagogue, and embalm in the heart the nation's honor, by doing justly, loving mercy, and keeping judgment.
Let every true patriot most earnestly cherish the names of those who have laid down their lives upon their country's altar, and cheerfully have given all that was dear to themselves and families a sacrifice for national life and honor for the peace and safety of homes, for the prosperity of national union, liberty and independence.
Those brave ones are gone beyond the reach of our benefit and reward, but those who immediately and directly feel the sacrifice are among us. Let their loss be partially made up by all that is beautiful in human kindness and tenderness; by drying up the widow's tears and the orphan's lament: in a benevolence of heart that will bestow liberally of a benefit and reward that will gladden and cheer the heart, saddened and depressed by a loss that can never be compensated. Let the lacerated feelings be healed by the balm of active, sympathising beneficence. Let the monuments to be erected in honor of the dead, be the care of the soldier's family, that his orphan children may be monuments of true patriotism, Christian greatness and praiseworthy integrity.
Let those last words that come in faint accents from the dying husband and father, "Oh! my wife, my children; what will become of them?" be answered by every patriotic heart: "They shall be taken care of." Patriot, bend your knee and listen to that soldier boy who had scarcely passed his sixteenth year, when lying upon his cot, where the candle of life was growing dim and flickering in its socket, and thought to be insensible to passing events, heard the Chaplain's voice and called aloud to him to come to his cot and pray with him. And when the Chaplain arose from his knee, the little boy exclaimed, "I feel better now," and commenced a beautiful and earnest prayer for his mother and little sister that God would comfort her in the loss of her dear boy, that He would care for both her and sister, and bring them both to meet him in heaven. Help, patriot! to answer that dear boy's prayer, by caring for that mother and that dear little sister, and the hundreds around you in similar circumstances.
Let the survivors of these four years of bloody conflict gather around their fallen comrades, and carve their names, if not on marble, on the tablets of their hearts. You rejoice that the cause for which you