D WEEKLY,
N. Tenth street, Philadelphia.

 

aa
.

.BIN ADVANCE, Two dollars per annum, or six copies

; this paper, when p 4 quarterly or yearly in advance,
nts per annum in Pennsylvania, and 26 cents per annum in

* For Friends’ Review. _
* |. NOTICES OF DAVID COOPER.
ope
per’s daughter, Ann, wife of Richard

after the birth of a son, became dan-
This was in 12th month, 1783.

sssenger,” he on tn was sent for me. I

 
 
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
 
 
 
   
  
     

at S. Allinson’s, and did not receive the
about one o’clock on the 31st, during
orm! which continued chief

with my daughter Martha, I
: t reach the house till three
ifter the corpse had been removed. She
sed about 5 o’clock on the 30th, before the
n of the messenger, accompanied by my
son, [Amos,] who was the only one of my

at the burial. The violence of the

e ted. their sending again, es-
pected on the first mes-

    

: pinching trial, but havi eat

7 that be had been dicta. to
it ery, I dared not mourn, except
no longer could share that tender
g affection which upon all occasions

sweet and meek disposition to-

dex

ie had indeed been a dutiful

  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  

r whole life never disobliged
atter of consequence. Much of her
overed a greater pleasure in pleasing
She was aged 27 years, 5
a) s—9 months and two days

en,”’
ages from her last letter,
the day before her illness,

.
had

LTENDS’

Ly Peligions, Miterary and Miseellancous Journal.

PHILADELPHIA, EIGHTH MONTH 2, 1862.

 

REVIEW.

 

No. 48.

 

and from her husband’s notes, all indicative of
unmurmuring patience, D. C. writes:

“The night after I received the account of
her illness, my mind being pained for the event,
reflecting how hard it would feel, should she be
taken away without my seeing her, my mind was
led to look over my past life; how chequered
with light and shade, and how greatly the latter
had exceeded. I had indeed been twelve years
in a married state) and enjoyed as high a relish
of happiness as perhaps was ever tasted in that
union ; but had now lived upwards of twenty-
three years in a state of solitary widowhood.
My children had now attachments of their own,
and one after another dropping before me,
should this child also go, a gloom spread over
my prospects as to the joys of this life.” He
seized his pen and in earnest verse poured out
his anguished feelings as a bereaved husband
and parent. Dr. Johnson said: “ As there is
no necessity forour having poetry at all, it being
merely a luxury, an instrument of pleasure, it
can have no value unless when exquisite of its
kind.” JD. C.’s verse did not reach the censo-
rious lexicographer’s high standard, but it meets
another writer’s definition of poetry, “ the lan-
guage of the heart.” True to the memory of
his incomparable wife, he describes the hours of
felicity spent in her society as only to be sur-
passéd or even equalled in the presence of his
God, and exclaims, —

_ None can comprehend
The endearing sweetness of my bosom friend!”

|A woman so beloved, and so mourned by so dis-

cerning a partner, and the mother of such chil-
dren, was surely possessed of extraordinary
worth, and entitled to be held in honorable re-
membrance. ;

(Diary. j—“ In the summer of this year, my
mind was often drawn into near feeling and
sympathy with my daughter Martha, who I was
sensible was under close mental exercise; but I
rather avoided anything that might lead her to
unbgsom to me, being desirous her mind might
be singly centered on Him who only could afford
effectual relief. Nevertheless, the deep concern .
I felt for her growth and establishment in the