The Lancaster Ledger

A Letter from Gen. Pierce.

The following touching letter was written by Gen. Pierce to a personal friend soon after his retirement from the United States Senate some years since, in reply to a letter of condolence on the death of a beautiful and manly boy, his cherished son. A later, and still more melancholy bereavement, gives it an additional interest that all will appreciate. Gen. Pierce writes as a Christian should write, yet as one, who under the sorrowful circumstances of the case, must also "feel it like a man?"

Concord, N. Hampshire, Nov. 30,

My Dear Friend: You have been often in my thought since I received your affectionate letter of the 10th inst. It was one of the earliest of the kind from my personal friends; soothing and grateful to me at the time. And it has been pleasant since, to think of you as among those who have truly sympathized with us in this dark hour of overpowering affliction.

How it is, that our hearts have been so soon opened our eyes, as it were, from a dream, upon the realities that are around and before us. We see "passing away" written upon all things of this world. We feel that we are mere sojourners, probationers here, and seem to estimate with an approximation to truth the great interest of eternity, as compared with those of time.

I do earnestly desire to keep awake to these matters; not to fall into the spell, where, as it were from necessity, we look through a false medium, which places eternity so far off, and gives to the things of time such vast magnitude and disproportionate importance.

I remember well the conversation on our ride to the G., to which I suppose you refer. The convictions of my judgment have long been strong and decided, but the little influence they have had upon my life is a sad illustration of the great truth "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness."

Our dear boy was ill three weeks, and the last four days of his life was a period of much suffering. In the midst of our deep sorrow I find inexpressible relief in the thought that "it is well with the child." He said much, to use his own expression, of the "blessed Jesus," especially on the Sabbath. And now his indefinite impressions and childish fancies are exchanged for full knowledge and never ending fruition. He is, as we firmly believe,

"Where no blight falls
On the beautiful rose of youth."

He was a bright, affectionate, manly boy—the pride and joy of his father's heart—the light and life of our home.— We now feel, and must long continue to feel his loss. We are conscious of his absence at every turn. We weep but the cup of sorrow is not unmingled with rich consolation.

I have many things to say to you when we meet. Till then, your stricken friend,

FRANK PIERCE.