The Woodville Republican

The Midnight Burial,

"Tis the lone hour of midnight, and the world is curtained in darkness, an unseemly hour for any to be abroad except upon the most urgent necessity, but look! who are those wandering among the trees like so many ghosts? Hark! hear you not their slow measured tread as they wend their way up that hillside? Who can they be, and what seek they here, at the midnight hour? What dark deed is now sought to be covered up under the darkness of the night? Let us draw near and watch the movements of this singular group. They are bearing something along in their midst, as with low accents and occasional whispers they toil up the hill."

Draw nearer and watch them closely. See, my God! it is a corpse they are carrying with them. Is it possible that a murder, a foul murder has been done, and they seek to hide it from the world? Who can it be they are thus hurrying to the grave? What crime hath he committed, what wrong hath he done, that they hide him away in the darkness of the night, as if the sun ought not to shine upon him? Start not reader, when I tell you they are burying a minister of the gospel, a herald of the cross, yes, an aged, pious man, who for years has been going about doing much good. He was a missionary among the distressed and unfortunate of earth, among the prisons and penitentiaries he was to be found with the word of God in his hand. In the cells of the condemned his voice was often heard ascending in prayer to Heaven. There in chains forgotten by the world, he spoke to them of Christ, and God, and Heaven. An influential paper speaking of him says "he goes from one prison to another continually, teaching the doctrines of Christ and distributing the Bible and other good books to hardened sinners. He is an extraordinary man. His countenance beams all the good qualities of the heart. The most hardened and blasphemous culprit will listen to his mild voice, while he speaks directly to the wicked heart, and urges repentance and reformation. The keepers of the various prisons allow this good man to pass in and out at will, and by this means he is enabled to inculcate the doctrines of Christianity, and cause repentance in many a hardened heart that never felt or heard the sweet consolation of the true Christian. His mild and devotional manner commanded respect, even in men who had no respect for themselves, nor care for their immortal souls. He will soothe many a dying pillow, and be instrumental in reclaiming and saving many souls."

Thus spoke the papers repeatedly in regard to this pious man who they are now bearing to his grave at the ghastly hour midnight. He has reared a monument in the hearts of thousands. He was full of benevolence and kindness. His charities were numerous and none will know their extent until that great day when all hearts shall be revealed. His faith in the works of his hands, and the labor of love was extraordinary. His course was looked upon by many as singular, and he fell at his post aged sixty-five, doing a great and good work in the land. Such is a partial history of the man of God they are bearing to his tomb at the sombre midnight hour committing him to the bosom of the earth without so much as a song, or the benefit of a prayer.

So ended the days of the indefatigable and faithful missionary, the Rev. Z. Harmon who died on the Tillman plantation, Sept. 16. and was buried in the suburbs of Fort Adams—Peace to his ashes.