J. Ward Childs, for the last fourteen years superintendent of the Bowery Mission and Young Men's Home, at No. 105 Bowery, died at his home, No. 808 DeKalb Ave., Brooklyn, yesterday from the grip and other complications. He was born in Lancaster, Mass., on June 1, 1838. In 1863 he enlisted in the Fifty-third Massachusetts Infantry. His regiment was sent to New Orleans, where Mr. Childs was appointed clerk of the military hospital. After the war Mr. Childs established a streetcar advertising business in Boston, which was a success until the great Boston fire crippled him in business and he came to New York. His activity in religious work attracted attention, and he was appointed superintendent of the Bowery Mission and Young Men's Home. For years he had devoted all his time to mission and religious work. Hundreds of young men through his instrumentality were reformed, and in recent years not a month went by without his receiving letters from mission converts from all over the world. He had enjoyed perfect health until two weeks ago, when he was attacked with grip in its worst form. Mr. Childs was a member of the Puritan Congregational Church, where the funeral services were held on Sunday evening last. Mr. Childs was a warm personal friend of Dr. Wylie, of the Scotch Presbyterian Church, of this city, and also of Fanny Crosby, who wrote several hymns for the Bowery Mission. Mr. Mitchell, the clerk of the Bowery Mission for years, died on the preceding Thursday night. Mr. Childs and Mr. Mitchell had been co-laborers for many years. He was a man of noble physique, and his fine, frank countenance irresistibly won all he came in contact with. Gentle and tenderhearted, and deeply spiritual in character, he was permitted to do a great work in the position he held, and it will be hard indeed to fill the place his death has made vacant. Like all such men he was also of a poetic temperament, and our readers will at once recall his beautiful and touching poem entitled "Jim and Me," among many others which were given to the public through our columns.
