"
_13th_. Submitted, in a letter to the department at Washington, A
PROJECT of an expedition to the North-west, during the ensuing season,
in order to carry out the views expressed in the instructions of last
year, to preserve peace on the western frontiers, inclosing the
necessary estimates, &c.
_16th_. Mr. W. H. Sherman, of Vernon, N.Y., communicates intelligence
of the death of my mother, which took place about ten o'clock on the
morning of this day. She was seventy-five years of age, and a
Christian--and died as she had lived, in a full hope. I had read the
letters before breakfast, and while the family were assembling for
prayers. I had announced the fact with great composure, and afterward
proceeded to read in course the 42d Psalm, and went on well, until I
came to the verse--"Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou
disquieted within me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who
is the health of my countenance, and my God."
The emotions of this painful event, which I had striven to conceal,
swelled up in all their reality, my utterance was suddenly choked, and I
was obliged to close the book, and wait for calmness to go on.
Pages:
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877