d his head in my lap, in which position he died
without a groan or a struggle.

I have stated these facts thinking that they may afford to you,
and to the bereaved widows they have left, a mournful
consolation.

Give my love to Anna and Martha, with our last farewell.

Yours truly,
EDWIN COPPOCK.

* * * * *

COOK'S LAST LETTER TO HIS WIFE.

CHARLESTOWN JAIL, Dec. 16, 1859.

MY DEAR WIFE AND CHILD: For the last time I take my pen to
address you--for the last time to speak to you through the tongue
of the absent. I am about to leave you and this world forever.
But do not give way to your grief. Look with the eyes of hope
beyond the vale of life, and see the dawning of that brighter
morrow that shall know no clouds or shadows in its sunny
sky--that shall know no sunset. To that eternal day I trust,
beloved, I am going now. For me there waits no far-off or
uncertain future. I am only going from my camp on earth to a home
in heaven; from the dark clouds of sin and grief, to the clear
blue skies, the flowing fountains, and the eternal joys of that
better and brighter land, whose only entrance is through the vale
of death--whose only gateway is the tomb.

Oh, yes! think that I am only going home; going to meet my
Saviour and my God; going to meet my comrades, and wait and watch
for you. Each hour that passes, every tolling bell, proclaims
this world is not our home. We are but pilgrims here, journeying
to our Father's house. Some have a long and weary road to wander;
shadowed o'er with doubts and fears, they often tire and faint
upon life's roadside; yet, still all wearied, they must move
along. Some make a more rapid journey, and complete their
pilgrimage in the bright morn of life; they know no weariness
upon their journey, no ills or cares of toil-worn age. I and my
comrades here are among that number. Our pilgrimage is nearly
ended; we can almost see our homes. A few more hours and we shall
be there.

True, it is hard for me to leave my loving partner and my little
one, lingering on the rugged road on which life's storms are
bursting. But cheer up, my beloved ones; those storms will soo