Consider that the people I tell of in the Egypt of Illinois and their neighbor fellow fighters, a pastoral folk, strong in religious faith, Simple in life, vigorous Of mind and body, through toil and trouble, left, as they supposed, rich heritage for their descendants. If we have not all they builded it is not their fault. It is well to think over such matters; it ought to teach a lesson. Likely, too, I do this, to keep myself in mind as much as may be, when I shall be gathered to my fathers. N 0 one likes the idea Of sleeping in for gotten grave. Those dead of whom I' write, abhorred with all mankind the notion Of Oblivion — being forgotten and as if they never lived. NO doubt it would have pleased much any Of those dead ancestors Of whom I am to Speak to have known in life (if possible) that in 1915 a descendant Should write the name, as, Enoch, or James, or John, Polly, or Betsy, — in kindly remembrance. One would rather be abused than forgotten. The longing for immortality on the earth, among kin and people — to be remembered and Spoken and written Of — is universal. There is a kind Of immortality in the recollection one leaves in the memory Of man. Myself, I gloom a bit, in the thought that with brief lapse I will be as a watch in the night — forgotten, and as if never born.
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