Monday, June 26, 2006


Martha Dennis Wilson, born in Madison county, Ala., June 19, 1830. She grew up with, and was, educated with the older children, taught mostly by her parents, and reached Mississippi in 1843, where her academic education really commenced under the tutilage of her older sister, Mrs. Howze. She was a bright, sprightly girl and a great reader, and a great lover of home, and home life. I think of her now as my "good sister." She was kind, affectionate, lovely and lovable; fond of children and always ready to comfort us in our troubles. Particularly attentive to the wants and comforts of those around her. She soon developed into an accomplished young lady, with fine musical talent, and splendid voice. She was a fine music teacher, and was always in demand.

She was early admitted into the church, and was through life an humble, loving follower of her Saviour.

She was married to Andrew M. Hardin, of Marshall county, Miss., on March 18, 1851, and in a few weeks returned with her husband to his place of business in Yazoo City, Miss., where he was merchandizing.

We bade her good-bye with many tears and prayers, and it proved to be final parting, for we never saw her sweet face again. But we shall see her soon!

About two years after marriage, my sister was stricken with malarial dysentery, and died in a few days, even before a letter reached us, apprising us of her illness. This was a great shock to the whole family, as it was the first adult member of the household to die. A little, bright girl of a year old, Elizabeth, was left to the care of the grandmother, who nursed it tenderly to girlhood. At her grandmother's death, Mr. Hardin carried Lizzie to St. Louis, where he was engaged in business, and put her in school where she was educated. Soon after her school days she was married to James Barton, a distant relative of Mr. Hardin. The young couple, I think, settled in Crittenden county, Ark. In one short year the mother died, leaving a little boy, who soon followed its mother, and the family was blotted out.

A dead branch on the parent tree! A sad, mysterious dispensation of Divine Providence! Who can understand it? The sweet words of our Savior come ringing down through the centuries, "What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter," and we leave the dead branch in His hands, and submit, and wait and believe, for
"Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain,
God is His own
And He will make it plain."


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