Chapter III: Part 3

During the year 1839, about five years after we became members of the Church, your grandfather was ordained Ruling Elder in the Second Presbyterian church. We united with the First Presbyterian church (which I believe, I told you in a previous letter), which was then the only one in the city, but were induced, from a sense of duty, to go out, with a few others, to assist in strengthening a small colony that had been struggling for existence almost from the time it had left the mother church, some two or three years previous. In the building up of this church he was one of its most efficient agents. Besides having the duties of an Elder to perform, he was appointed a Trustee, and, with others, was very active in planning, and carrying forward to its completion, a large and expensive building, bearing a heavy part of the debt of it for years, until the means were provided for his relief, which was not until long after he had met with heavy pecuniary losses. He was regularly in his place at all the meetings of the church, both for spiritual and secular purposes.

Now, my dear children, if you have conceived an idea, from the insight I have given you, of the numerous occupations of your grandfather, that he must have been bustling about, having so much to do--hurrying things at home, and having no time for pleasure or recreation-you are greatly mistaken. A day rarely passed that he did not take a ride with his family, or some member of it, to the farm, (except during the period of his ill health, when he oftener sought repose in the afternoon), enjoying, with the fresh air, exercise, and charms of the country, the society of those so dear to him. He never came home with a surly look-like some people who want to make an impression that they have the world on their shoulders-to talk about hard work, and hard times, or disagreeable matters, or to recount all the wonderful things he had done, or had to do. But, with a step and a countenance that seemed to say, What a blessed and happy man I am! his presence always brought with it happiness and peace. He was not a great talker, but he generally had something pleasant to say, or an interesting anecdote to relate; for, with a keen perception of the ludicrous, he possessed a talent for telling anecdotes admirably well, and a humor that was irresistibly pervasive. No one could help feeling its influence, and being all the happier for it.

I wish I could remember some of his anecdotes, and do them justice in the relation; but I know the attempt would be futile: for there was so much in the look and manner that gave a zest to his conversation, and rendered it attractive, that it would be impossible to convey a correct idea of it in words. None can feel, or fully appreciate it, without having had the privilege of being in his presence. A friend, to whom he was much attached, and at whose house he frequently visited, mentioned to me, since his death, that he and his wife had, from their early acquaintance with him, been in the habit of referring often to what Mr. Charless would say, recalling his conversation, and talking so much about him, that one day he asked, Wife, how is it we cannot help talking of Mr. Charless?-what is there about him that impresses us so? It is not really what he says, but the way he says it. It is his humor, his benevolence of manner, his inimitable pleasantry, etc.

With these qualities, I need not say that he was an acquisition to society. He enjoyed it at home or abroad; at the evening party, or with a few friends around the social board. With a genial nature, he had a facility for adaptation, so that it was easy for him to feel perfectly at home, and unrestrained, with all classes and conditions of men, young or old, gay or grave. He was particularly fond of young people, and generally had a little sweetheart among the girls, with whom he would occasionally carry on a spirited flirtation.

In the fall of 1841, immediately after his period of dejection, and consequent ill health, your grandfather and myself mutually agreed that it would be best for us, by way of lessening our expenses, to sell our furniture, and break up housekeeping for a few years. My health, which had never been good since that severe illness, of which I have spoken, was the palpable cause; for my husband had often expressed a desire to try the effect of rest from the cares and fatigue of housekeeping, and now, that one sister and two of my brothers were married and settled, there was not difficulty in the way of our doing so. This proved to be a very fortunate step, for at the time things, almost anything, sold well. The city was prosperous, and everybody felt rich. Our furniture, of which we reserved sufficient to furnish two bed-rooms, besides our valuables of plate, etc., sold for as much, some of it for more, than we paid for it when new. And in one year from that time, suddenly, there was a monetary pressure, which brought every kind of property down to less than half of its value or original cost. It was one of those pecuniary tornadoes which occasionally sweep through the whole length and breadth of the land, levelling and blighting everything as it passes, putting a stop to the wheels of commerce, and bringing terror into almost every family. It came with an astounding effect upon St. Louis. Many who felt themselves rich were in a few days reduced to a state of poverty, not having the means wherewith to pay their honest debts.

The firm of Charless & Blow were compelled to suspend payment. This reverse came upon them like a shock, for, notwithstanding my husbands fears, a year or two previous, with regard to his mercantile affairs, he had informed me, but a short time before, that he had no doubt now but that they would be enabled to get through with the difficulties that had been pressing him down; for, as he expressed it, we begin now to see our way clear. They had had no apprehensions with regard to their endorser (for whom they also endorsed), for his house was one of the oldest and (it was thought) one of the most opulent in the city. But when the fact was known that Mr. T had failed, and when his creditors called upon the firm of Charless & Blow to respond to his notes, which were then due, it was too much for them. At first my husband (pale from emotion) thought all was over!-all for which he had been toiling for years; reduced to poverty, his reputation as a merchant, perhaps, greatly weakened; and, what was worse still, (not knowing the extent of his losses by Mr. T.), he might not be able, after sacrificing everything he had in the world, to pay his debts!

In a crisis like this, developments are exceedingly rapid, and revulsion of feeling just as much so. The excitement is too intense to endure delay. The best and the worst must be known, if possible, and that at once. It was soon ascertained, therefore, in the case of Charless & Blow, that their loss, by the failure of our good and honorable old friend, was not much; and the chief difficulty with them, as with all other sufferers, lay in the loss of confidence between men, and the consequent scarcity of money in circulation.

Your grandparents passed one troubled night in consequence of this event, in which sleep-tired natures sweet restorer-forsook them. But the next afternoon found them taking a drive in grandpas buggy, calmly talking about their new circumstances, and resolving, with a courageous heart, to meet them, whatever they might be. Of course, I did all I could to encourage him, (else I would not have been worthy the name of wife); became very self-sacrificing for a lady-willing to part with my tea service, and all my silver-ware-any and everything I had of value, except my bridal gifts; and then began to speculate upon how very nice it would be to live in a neat little cottage, etc., etc. For I was not too old to be romantic; and I do really believe now, as I recall my enthusiasm on the subject, that I would have been disappointed had anything occurred to prevent me from exhibiting to my husband how cheerfully I could submit to misfortune. No such test came; for the very next day a widow, who had deposited a few hundred dollars with the firm for safe keeping, hearing of their reverses, called to get her money. They had none; and my husband, remembering my offer, sent a messenger, with a note, requesting me to send the tea-service, with which to secure her. Cheerfully-for I was glad it was in my power to secure the widow against loss, and to relieve the mind of my husband to some little extent-but with a beating heart, (for this was a birth-day gift from him), I parted with my beautiful tea-service, and have never seen it since. It was sold to pay that debt.

Our dear old mother was greatly afflicted because of our reverses in fortune, and wept like a child; but her amazement was to see me so unmoved. I thought then it was Christian submission that enabled me to bear up so well; but I see now there was a great deal of human love, and sympathy, and human pride, too, mixed with it.

Although we were not keeping house, at that time, we were very delightfully and happily situated, for we were boarding (as an especial favor) at our eldest brothers. He had a sweet wife, and they lived in their beautiful new house, which, years after, grandpa purchased. It was there your dear mamma passed her young lady days-where she was married-where her little sons, Charless, Louis and Edward, were born; and where their loving grandpa breathed away his precious life. But the same reasons which made it necessary for us to submit to loss and inconvenience, made it incumbent on my brother to sell his residence. Consequently, we accepted the kind invitation of our mother to occupy a part of her house; and, by strict economy in every practicable thing -paying her a very low price for our board, which the old lady would receive, but not a cent more-we passed three of the happy years of our life, at the end of which time, we had regained a considerable amount of our losses; and, what was better still, your dear grandfather had become firmly and prosperously re-established in business, without having lost an atom of his reputation as a judicious and energetic merchant.

The suspension of Charless & Blow did not result in a complete failure, by any means. They solicited an examination into their affairs, exhibited their books, making a complete and full exposition of the condition of their business, and it was unanimously agreed upon, by the committee chosen for the purpose, that it would be greatly to the advantage of their creditors for the firm not to close up, but to continue the business, each binding himself to extract, for the two succeeding years, only a small (stated) sum for private use, from the proceeds of the store.

As soon as the adverse condition of C. & B. was relieved, and they had regained their former position-which, I think, was in about two years from the time of the crisis-they made up their minds to dissolve partnership: one to take the store; the other, the oil and lead factory. Accordingly, terms of dissolution were drawn up. Mr. Charless, being the elder, had the privilege of choosing, and, after reflection, decided upon retaining the store. My two younger brothers afterwards became his partner in the business, and remained as Charless, Blow & Co. until dissolved by the death of their beloved senior.

This is a long letter, my dear children, and I will close it, with the promise of letting you know something more about our three years sojourn at your great-grandmammas: in which I hope to show you how happy we can be under adverse circumstances, and how much less the evil of coming down in the world is, than generally is supposed.

Affectionately yours, GRANDMA.

Letter Eleven

My Dear Grandchildren:

Man is naturally aspiring, and the more he attains to in life, the more earnestly he reaches after something higher still. And it is well that it is so, for, without this spirit, there would necessarily be but little or no advance in the world. The old land-marks would stand unmolested, forever; and the human family, instead of developing, could not but deteriorate, from generation to generation. But for the fall of man, his highest aim would have been such as the angels have, viz: to see, and to be with God, whose exceeding greatness and glory would tend to ravish the soul with delight, enlarge its capacity, and yet keep it at an humble distance, reverent and lowly. But I am stepping beyond my reach, and will come back again to what is, not what might have been.

As soon as you observe at all, you must perceive what a constant struggle there is going on here below. Some aim at fortunes gaudy show, while others strive to catch the wreath of fame, and crown themselves with that. Few are so indifferent, unless besotted by ignorance and degradation, as not to aspire, in some shape or other, to something more or better than they ever had, or better than others have; and, in this age of the world-at any rate in this country-money seems to be esteemed the chief good. Not the misers money, for, while that is locked up, and he hoards, and hoards, and still locks it up, it narrows down the soul, and expunges from it all the milk of human kindness. What are the orphans tears, or the widows groans-what is human suffering to him? Gold! gold! His precious gold fills the contracted, dark place, which the soul, made in the image of its Creator, has forsaken, and leaves him more brute than man.

Money is a good and valuable possession, but not to the spendthrift, to whom it becomes a temptation to vice. Better be poor forever, and, by the sweat of the brow, eat your daily bread, maintaining, at the same time, a pure and unblemished character, than to have a fortune that only induces idleness and self-indulgence, opening to you an avenue for the destruction of soul and body; and, perhaps, too, as is often the case, cause you to blindly drag your wife and children with you, if not to vice, at least to want and to disgrace. Money is only good when properly valued, and properly used. It is desirable as a means of education, and of refinement; for the cultivation of ones taste in the field of nature, or in the arts and sciences. It is gratifying, and not wrong, to have handsome houses and grounds, tasteful furniture, fine paintings, or statuary, libraries, and everything pertaining to an elegant establishment. It is very good when used to make people happy who, in the providence of God, are not supplied with the necessaries of life. The poor ye have always with you-why if not to keep the stream of benevolence running fresh and sweet? And money helps materially, perhaps too much, toward giving one position in society. All things considered, it is hard to lose it. It is trying to feel, as you pass along, people are saying, There goes poor Mrs. A., or B. She has come down in the world! Some malicious ones will say, Well, she deserved it, for she was very extravagant, and she held her head too high. Women, no doubt, are more susceptible to suffering and mortification, from reverses in fortune than men are; yet there are many ways in which they feel it, too-according to their characters and dispositions. And, my dear children, if I were to say that we had not felt or cared for the reverses in life of which I told you in my last letter, it would not be true. We did feel it, and that in many ways. My husband was humbled, and disappointed, but entirely submissive to the will of God; for he believed that adversity, as well as prosperity, came from His loving hand, and was designed for the highest good of His people. Instead of having the effect to lessen, it strengthened his faith. Instead of making him more anxious and striving for the accumulation of wealth, he was less so; and he continued to be less so throughout the remainder of his life. Notwithstanding he was quite as industrious, just as energetic; yet there was less of dross mixed up with the pure metal in his soul. To me, it was evident that he advanced rapidly in the divine life; of which I felt the influence, if I caught none of its spirit.

In a letter from him, dated that fall, soon after our removal to his mothers, he says: The scenery of the Mississippi, from the rapids north, is very beautiful. The frost having changed the color of part of the leaves, the forest presents an endless variety of colors; and the great number of farms and villages add much to the beauty of the landscape. But everywhere I find the people complaining, and many suffering from actual want. Although Providence has provided a most bountiful harvest, many, who have been accustomed to have every comfort, and many luxuries, around them, are now almost destitute. It makes me feel more resigned to our losses and poverty, seeing we are so much better off than thousands who are more deserving than we. They, it seems, are resigned, and submit most cheerfully to all the dispensations of their Heavenly Father. Let us, dear Charlotte, hereafter endeavor to show, in our lives, greater devotedness to Him who has done so much for us, and who promises to be our support and stay in every hour of need; who will never desert any who put their trust in Him.

Let us, therefore, exhort one another, and provoke each other to well-doing, in the service of our God. Let us love each other more and more, and make Jesus the great object of our praise and prayer. I hope and pray that the chastenings of our blessed Lord, in depriving us of our worldly possessions, may be sanctified to us, and lead us, more earnestly and undoubtingly, to seek for possessions in that Kingdom where all is joy, and peace, and love. Oh! That we may be enabled, with all our dear kith and kin, and kind friends, to attain unto this glorious and happy state, to dwell forever in the presence of our God, and enjoy Him throughout eternity. Dear C., are not these things worth our most strenuous efforts? And yet how little do we do! How poor our best attempts to serve Him who has done everything for us.

With these earnest desires for closer communion with God, and for those treasures which fade not away, he necessarily had a hard struggle to prosecute his worldly affairs, under circumstances so disadvantageous as that of carrying on a large business without the necessary capital, greatly weakened, in fact, by pecuniary losses, and more still by the misfortune of being compelled to suspend payment, and the consequent exposure of the internal difficulties with which the firm had to contend. Anxious and toiling, week after week, he was always rejoiced when Saturday night came, that he might, as he generally expressed it in his prayer that night, lay aside the world, and engage in the delightful exercises of the holy Sabbath. And I will here mention, for the benefit of those among you (if there are any such) who, in your eager pursuit of wealth, or honor, or are battling, as he was, with the untoward events of life, are tempted to desecrate the Sabbath to secular purposes, that I have often heard your grandfather say (about that time) that on Monday his mind was clearer, and his hopes stronger of success, than at any other time. And towards the close of the week, after his mental energies had been on the stretch for days, things looked darker; that sometimes he felt as though he must give up; that it would be impossible to meet his payments; but that on Monday, with both mind and body invigorated from the holy rest of the Sabbath day, the mists had cleared away, and everything looked bright again-so bright that he often felt surprised that he should have been in such a desponding condition on Saturday.

There is sound philosophy in this; but I will leave it for you to work out the problem, and will proceed to say, that with the opening of the spring of 1843, business prospects really did brighten. And our new home, though humble, we had found vastly comfortable. It looked familiar and home-like, too; for the furniture to which we had been accustomed had been removed into our suite of rooms, one of the bedsteads minus only the cornice and the feet, which had to be taken off to accommodate it to the height of the ceiling-of which, for awhile, I had so constant and disagreeable an impression that often, when rising suddenly from my chair, I would dodge, from fear of bumping my head against it. And no wonder! For this was an old house, built in the year one, before people (poor things!) found out the necessity of having their ceilings pitched so high above them! But our front room was otherwise capacious; for several partitions had been knocked down, which added a small room and part of a hall to the main one, and extended it entirely across the front of the house. It was so large that it accommodated the piano, and a pier-stand, besides every necessary article for a completely furnished bed-room. The piano and pier-stand-the latter of which was a particular object of attraction to your mamma (for bon-bons were kept in that)-gave to the room the air somewhat of a parlor. At least, we esteemed it so cosy, and appropriate for the purpose, that we more frequently received the calls of friends there than in our mothers little reception-room.

What right had we to murmur? It would have been ungrateful if we had done so; for, although not by any means elegant, we were comfortable. True, my nice carriage and beautiful horses had been sold; but mother had quite a nice little carriage, and a fine old gray horse, that would have appeared very respectable, if (as the stable boy said) the calves had not chawed of his tail! However, that was a source of amusement. We rode often, for both mother and I needed the exercise; and the rides were delightful, as Joseph was generally our driver; and a merry chase he would lead us sometimes, for when he no longer had the farm to go to, (that had likewise been sold), he seemed determined to find out the merits, or demerits, of every road in the vicinity. This made quite a variety for us, for, besides the change of scenery, it usually called forth ejaculations from his mother, and answers from him, which were very amusing. She saw no sense in rambling the country over, going into every nook and corner, and jolting people to death! But he would earnestly assure her that he had not gone into half yet-looking round at her with a provokingly mischievous expression, which seemed to intimate that he meant to try it, though-and as for the roads, he could find much worse roads than that! And as to driving-he hadnt begun to show how many stumps he could go over, without upsetting. This playful, jocose, merry mood of her son, frequently recalled to the old ladys mind some incidents of early times, when she was young, and Joseph was a boy, which she would relate, and laugh all over at, shaking her fat sides most merrily. And, notwithstanding her outbursts of hastily spoken words of disapprobation to him for his temerity, she always wondered, after being safely landed at home, why she enjoyed her rides so much more when Joseph drove!

When we think about it, there are really no enjoyments in this wide world equal to home enjoyments. And when we have to go away from that hallowed spot, to seek for some longing of the soul which we cannot find there, or return to it with distaste, after having dipped into the pleasures (even the refined and reasonable ones) of the world, we are to be pitied, greatly pitied; for we are strangers to the purest and sweetest joys that are known this side of Paradise. And, thank God! this happiness is not confined to the mansion of the rich and the great. Perhaps it is less felt there than in the cottage of the virtuous and intelligent poor.

At our mothers we had quite as much of domestic peace and happiness as we had ever known. Our little daughter, who, to us at least, looked just as sweet and pretty in her bit calicos as she had ever done in better and more expensive clothes, beguiled a portion of our evenings with her music. She played delightfully on the piano, for a child of her age; and then she had conceived an idea (perhaps from something her father or mother had said) that the day might come when, by teaching music and French, she would be their support in old age. This was a new and beautiful stimulant to study, and we were no less pleased with this virtuous devotion of her young life, because we confidently believed that no such necessity would ever arise.

We enjoyed society, too-not quite so much or half as often as when we could return civilities; but there was an abandonment of feeling, or freedom from care, when we did participate; something like that expressed by a clerical friend of ours, who, upon beholding the beautiful grounds of a wealthy gentleman, congratulated himself upon his capacity for enjoying them as much as the proprietor could, without having his responsibility and care, which, in some measure, compensated us.

And, then, your grandfather found out what a jewel of a wife he had; how, as with a magic touch, she could make old things perfectly new, in which she appeared more charming to his eye than ever before. We are really not dependent upon external circumstances for happiness. That ingredient of life is found within us; and every one has a share in promoting it. One gentle, patient, unselfish, cheerful member of a household, can do wonders towards making the whole atmosphere of home redolent with his soul-reviving influences.

From what you have seen of your grandfather, you will readily imagine that he must have been a good son. He was: one of the best, if not the best, I have ever known. But facts speak for themselves. I have never once heard him speak a hasty or unkind word to his mother. He was her staff, upon whom she lovingly leaned; and yet, at her bidding, he was her boy, obedient, and respectful. As she declined in life, when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and many infirmities made her irritable and exacting, the charm of his loving voice, playfully and skillfully giving a turn to the current of her feelings, would alternately soothe, comfort, and amuse her. He was thoughtful of her every wish and comfort, and did all that he could to fill the void which death had made in that aged heart.

Some of the most striking proofs of his pure and elevated character, of his disinterested friendship and love, delicacy forbids me to speak of, as there are those living who might be touched by them. But I have given facts enough to show that he was no ordinary man. He was fond of reading, quick of perception, and given to investigation. There were but few subjects with which he was not more or less acquainted. For, notwithstanding his close business habits, he found much time for his favorite occupation of reading; by which means he kept up with the religious, political, and literary news of the day. He was a good historian, and possessed a retentive memory. I never thought of referring to an encyclopedia, or to a dictionary, when he was present; for I found it so much easier, and more pleasant, to obtain needed information from him. As regards the intellectual character of his mind, however, I do not think it was of the highest stamp. Of all practical things he had a decided opinion. His judgment was sound. Not marred by prejudice, nor warped by self-love, or self-praise, or self-aggrandisement, he was enabled coolly to exercise his powers of mind in forming a just estimate of men and things. He possessed strong common sense, which, being balanced by a high moral tone, and refined sensibilities, enabled him to be quick in discerning the characters of men, but tenderly careful of their feelings and reputation. I do not think his mind was of a metaphysical cast. He never willingly engaged in argument of any kind, nor conversed upon abstruse subjects. He might have said, with David, Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty, neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high for me. Yet he had a profound respect, and great admiration, for the highly gifted, and the learned; especially for those who, with these extraordinary gifts and attainments, possessed sincere piety. He enjoyed learned disquisitions just as he did a fine painting, the excellencies and beauties of which he appreciated, and could point out, without knowing how to use the brush or the pencil.

He had a keen appreciation of natural beauty, and of the art which could represent it, either on canvas or in marble. He was fond of poetry. But of all the poets, Burns stood first in his estimation. He could enter so easily into the spirit of this writer, because, in some respects, they were kindred spirits. Burns touching pathos, his humor, his love and pity for man and beast, penetrated his own humorous and nature-loving soul. When the centenary celebration of the birth of this great poet took place in St. Louis, a few years ago, he was absent, and I attended, not only for personal gratification, but that I might, upon his return, give him an account of it. In a letter to your mother (who was at Belmont) I alluded to the celebration, and said, It only needed father to read the Cotters Saturday Night to have made it complete in interest. He did read those poems beautifully; and many of his anecdotes embodied Scotch and Irish nature, and every-day life, which he would relate with all their native simplicity and humor, using the brogue of the one, and the accent and provincialism of the other, to perfection.

He was fond of music; but that, like his love of poetry, was a simple taste, his decided preference being for Scotch and Irish ballads. He could speak and read French well-very well, when in practice.

In much weakness, my dear children, but looking up to God to guide me into all truth concerning this matter, I have endeavored to give you a faithful history of the life (as far as it goes) and character of your beloved grandfather. I am afraid it does not do him justice, for I have often felt how meager words are to convey an idea of what he really was. But look at his portrait, and that benevolent, honest, cheerful countenance, may, in some measure, make up to you what my pen has failed to do.

I do not believe I have spoken to you of his kindness to the poor. But ask, in St. Louis, who were among those who wrung their hands and wept big tears around his cold remains, and you will find he was the poor mans friend.

I have made but slight allusions to his self-denying labors in the Church of Christ, because I know comparatively, but little of them. He never spoke of his good works, as such, not even to me. Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth was no difficult task for one who, alone conscious of his many infirmities, was kept truly humble before the eye of the heart-searching God. His humility was his crowning virtue. It adorned all the rest, and gave a certain kind of grace, even to his greatest faults.

Affectionately yours, GRANDMA.

Letter Twelve

My Dear Grandchildren:

In this simple sketch of the life of an unpretending Christian man, whose highest aim was to discharge his duties, as such, in the position in which God had placed him, I am aware there is nothing particularly interesting, or congenial, to the feelings or taste of the worldling. By the worldling I mean a man, or woman, who-perhaps without deliberately weighing things as they exist, and regardless of the future-is content with the short-lived pleasures and advantages of this world. But I cannot better describe the worldling than in the language of your grandfather, taken from a letter which lies open before me. In speaking of a certain lady who expressed to him a regret that she had not fifty thousand dollars per annum to spend in living, he says: She is a poor, worldly woman, whose chief end in life is to dash!-shine, and out-shine-consequently envies those who have more means, or appear to out-shine her. I would not swap my old woman for as many of such as could stand between this and Mobile, and the fifty thousand per annum in the bargain! To such among you (God forbid that there should be such!) I do not write; for I know how the world blinds by its dazzle, and you could see no beauty or use in living for the glory of that Being who made and preserves you, and before whom you must stand to be judged. Made in His image, with an immortal soul, you might dwell forever with the Redeemer, in the mansions he has gone to prepare. But, like the butterfly, you fritter away your earthly existence, and, by so doing, throw away the only cup of real, unadulterated pleasure of this present life; and, when Time, with all its fleeting joys, has passed away forever, where, oh, where! do you expect to dwell?

But for those who are the worthy descendants of him who lived the life of the righteous, and who find pleasure in reading these imperfect letters, I will recommence a review of the past, recording, as I have done, such facts as I think will interest you, and acquaint you still better with him. You have seen his Christianity exhibited in many ways; and I have not kept from your view his faults and imperfections. You have seen him as a son, and as a brother, a friend, and a husband. As a father, you know but little of him; and now I will relate the circumstances which led to a temporary separation from his child and her mother, and will quote from his letters, that you may learn, from himself, his views and desires as a father, and his manner of intercourse with this only child of his heart.

During the winter of 1846-after we had removed from your great-grandmammas, and were again enjoying a home of our own--my health gave way, to an alarming extent. Although able to go about the house, it was evident (declared so by my physicians) that I was in a decline. When I grew no better from the concentrated wisdom of three of the Faculty, my husband determined to try the effect of a change of air and scene, first having consulted the doctors as to the expediency of it, and having been assured by them that, if it did me no good, it could do me no harm. With his accustomed dispatch he hastened to the river, secured our passage on a boat, which was to leave in three days, and at dinner asked me if I would not like to take a trip to Havana? The question startled me, for there was more business done in March and April than in any other two months of the whole year, and I could not see the practicability-indeed, it had previously seemed almost impossible for him to leave home at that time. But his answer to my exclamations of surprise-Business is of no importance compared to health, and the question, Can you be ready by day after tomorrow? accompanied by the assurance that our state-rooms were already engaged -put a stop to further discussion, and set my sister earnestly to work to get me ready. Lizzie must leave school, (papa said), for she, too, may go along to help take care of mamma-and never was a mamma better taken care of, with two such nurses as she had.

This arrangement acted like a charm, for I began to mend before we started, from the effect upon my mind, in being drawn off from myself and my ailments to the necessary thought required in giving directions for the packing of trunks, and in making arrangements generally for leaving home. After reaching New Orleans, we were advised that it was too late in the season to visit Havana, and we determined to steer our course toward Pensacola; but, upon our arrival in Mobile, our friends there suggested Pascagoula, as a better place, and, as it was more accessible than the former, we decided upon trying the effect of the sea-breeze there. It was early in the season to visit a watering-place, but we were not the less welcomed by the proprietors of a delightful hotel, (which has since been burned down), for, as it happened, they were old acquaintances of ours. This hotel was a commodious, and cheerful looking establishment, with its large dancing saloon attached, and had every convenience for the amusement and comfort of the gay crowd that assembled there in the summer months for pastime or health. It stood on an eminence, and commanded a beautiful view of the bay. The large yard in front, which gradually sloped down to the beach, was planted with evergreens and shrubbery, presenting a gay contrast, which, with the flowered vines, so prettily trained around the pillars of the long piazza, made it rurally picturesque, and filled the air with odors of the sweetest kind. But nothing was so sweet to me as the unadulterated sea air, which I delighted to drink in, every breath of which seemed to send vigor into my wasted and weakened frame. At first, I could walk but a little way along the beach; but soon, by leaning on the arm of my husband, I could walk half a mile out on the pier, and, sitting down in a chair (provided for me), would remain there, with the rest of the party, for hours, as deeply interested in fishing as ever that famous old angler, Sir Izaak Walton, could have been. And if he had been as successful as we were in hooking and pulling out the great variety of fish, large and small-with an occasional monster of the deep, which caused us to open our eyes in amazement-I am sure he could not have ruminated to his hearts content, as he did, and made the world so much the wiser for his having lived and angled in it.

Pascagoula, as it was then, was by far the most fascinating place I had ever seen. Besides its natural beauties and advantages, (its health-giving influences being, no doubt, the greatest to the invalid), we had a pleasant little society of cultivated people, all bent on pleasure and sport. Sometimes we would go rowing, and then sailing. At other times we would course up the Pascagoula river-a beautiful little stream, all studded with the gardens of cottagers. One of these was an Italian, who, devoted to the land of his birth, had, as it were, transplanted the home of his heart to this romantic spot in the far-off world. It looked decidedly foreign; but its greatest beauty (to my taste) was the background, which was composed a grand old forest of towering pines.

In contrast with this little river, were the island which dotted the bay, adding beauty to the scene and affording tempting attractions to those who are fond of pic-nics. One especially-Island Casot, formed by the beautiful bayou of the same name-is shaded by immense live-oak trees, and lies just south on the border of the finest oyster bed (for flavor) in the South. We spent a whole day there, having first amply provided ourselves with every luxury, even to comforts and pillows to lounge on. Your grandfather admired this beautiful little island so much that he thought seriously of purchasing it, to improve in a cheap and simple way, to be used as an occasional resort for health and pleasure. He and your mother were evidently as much charmed with Pascagoula, and its surroundings, as I was. Both were the picture of happiness. They engaged in many amusements, of which I was incapable, and could only look on and laugh at-such as catching crabs, and speering flounders by torchlight. They bathed and swam, too, (the latter with a life-preserver), but they were afraid to venture out too far, on account of sharks, which were occasionally seen near the shore. At a certain season of the year there was frequently heard, near the bath-houses, a strain of music, like the Aeolian harp, which had never been satisfactorily accounted for, although many wise heads had pondered over it. Some supposed that it proceeded from a certain kind of small fish, which, in their perambulations through the mighty deep, for some secret reason best know to themselves, touched at this point at the stated season, just to whisper a few sweet notes, and would then retire. Other said it was only an echo borne upon the waters (when the wind was in a certain direction), from the playing of the waves against the sandy shore of an island, three miles distant. There is an Indian legend, which I will relate, that gives a more interesting account of this phenomenon than either of these. A war party of the Pascagoula tribe, headed by their chief, having been hotly pursued by a victorious enemy, had rushed into the bay (sooner than submit), and were drowned, while singing a melancholy dirge, which annually returns in token of the sad event. They:

Sing of death and life undying, In the Islands of the Blest In the kingdom of Ponemah, In the Land of the Hereafter.

But perhaps it is irrelevant to my subject to dwell so minutely upon scenes and incidents so remotely associated with it. He was with me then, and it makes me for awhile forget my loneliness.

The result of this little excursion, which proved so beneficial to my health, was a sojourn of one whole winter and spring, and part of another, in Mobile. We found there a boarding-school for young ladies, of high standing, in which we determined to place our daughter; and a very delightful boarding place for me, about three miles from the city, in the family of an old friend and relative, who, some years previous, had been the family physician of my father, in North Alabama. Feeling quite at home here, among these kind friends, with the advantages resulting from a mild climate, and the sea-breeze, my health steadily improved, which was some consolation for the long and tedious separation from my beloved husband. In the meanwhile our daughter was pursuing her studies at Madame De Fellons. I often visited her at the Academy, and she always came out to the Doctors on Friday afternoon, and remained until Monday morning, when she would make an early start for school. We had many pleasures and recreations in the city and neighborhood of Mobile, the country especially presenting a very beautiful appearance from the highly cultivated gardens, picturesque and tasteful cottages, and elegant mansions, contrasted, as they were, with the magnificent groves of pine and magnolia, with their rich and fragrant undergrowth of yellow jessamine, and other sweet flowers, which were indigenous to the soil of this lovely country. In these pleasant groves were many springs of soft, clear water, which, flowing together, formed little creeks, whose gentle meanderings added freshness and increasing loveliness to the already charming scene. Some of these creeks flowed over their shining beds of sand, and some over the waving grass and lily. It tranquillizes me, even now, to recall the rustic bridge, where I have often stood (it seems to me for hours) and gazed at the gentle stream, as it murmured over the log that lay half-imbedded in the sand, and watched the never-ceasing motion of the graceful water lilies which arched the stream below.

But our highest enjoyment, with the exception of the visits, were the letters of our beloved husband and father, who necessarily had to remain, a greater part of the time, in St. Louis. I find, in looking over your mothers package of letters from him, one dated October 15th, 1842, at which time she was not quite ten years of age. After writing the particulars of his journey, and expressing a desire that she and her mother were with him to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Mississippi, etc., he says: I hope you have been a good girl, and that mother will be able to tell me how well you have behaved during my absence, and what a comfort it is to have so dutiful a daughter, who never has to be told a second time to go to her piano, or to learn her Sabbath school lesson. I am satisfied if children knew how it gladdens the hearts of parents, and how cheerfully they labor to educate good children, that my little girl would give her whole energy to acquire such a habit of obedience, and attention to her parents, as would make her beloved by all who know her; and, more than all, would meet the approbation of Him who has said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. But I feel assured that the unwearied attentions of the best of mothers will not be in vain; but that the blessed God will make them serve his own wise purpose, and, father prays, will eventually make her a bright and shining light in this world, and place her in the world to come among the redeemed of our Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST. I have been reading to-day the Life of the Rev. Mr. Newton, who was a very wicked man, etc., etc. Mr. Newton was, like little Samuel, devoted to the Lord, when a child, by his mother, who died, leaving him an orphan, at three years of age. Yet, after many trials, He saves him from his sins -and, might we not almost say, for his mothers sake? Surely for the Saviours sake.

I have heard nothing from home since I left, and am extremely anxious to hear from you all. Has dear mothers health improved? How is grandma, and Cousin Eliza, and little Joe and Ella, and aunt Loo, and all our dear friends?" etc.

Your affectionate father, JOS. CHARLESS.

Here is the first page of another letter, dated New York, December 22, 1843."

My Dear Daughter: Having finished my business arrangements for the day, and having a spare moment, I thought I would occupy it by writing to my dear child. Since I left home, I have been hurried along, from place to place, and from scene to scene, so that I have nothing very pleasing to detail to you of my journey. Since I have been in this great city I have also been very closely engaged with my business, and have visited, as yet, none of its wonders. We have tonight, at the house where I am staying, a very large company, assembled to celebrate the landing of the Puritans in New England. They had a most splendid table, filled with every luxury; and they have Mr. Webster, who is to make a speech to them. Mr. Choate delivered an address to-day, in the Tabernacle. So, you see, we have grand doings.

Well, I feel more happy up in my little room, away from the noise and bustle, writing to my daughter, and thinking of her dear mother and grandma, and cousin Eliza, and all that are so dear to us. My dear, when I think how God has blessed you, and all of us, and when I think how wicked we have been, what stubborn and disobedient children we have all been, and how little we love that Saviour who has done so much for us, I feel very much condemned. God would be just, if he should at once punish us. We should be very prayerful, and pray earnestly and continually, for a new heart and a right spirit, and that we may all be truly converted, and fitted to serve Him with our whole hearts.

His humility is plainly seen in this quotation, as it often was in his prayers, when he seemed more like a little child, seeking his Fathers face, than an elder in the Church, conscious of setting an example to the flock.

In the first letter your mother received from her father, in the winter of 1846-7, after we were settled in Mobile, he says: My dear child, I hope, needs no hint to urge her in attention and kindness to a mother whose happiness is so dependent upon her child. Your father, immersed in the business of the world, and his feelings hardened by the adverse and trying scenes which he is constantly called to breast, is not so alive to, and dependent for happiness, as the mother is upon her husband and child; and, in the absence of the former, the weightier duties devolve on you, and I confidently feel that you will fulfil them all cheerfully, and partake of the happiness their performance affords. I pray that the Spirit of all Grace may impart to you all the strength and grace you need, and that you may be guided to the Saviour, in whom you will find fullness of joy, and a peace which passeth all knowledge.

After writing another page, in which he gives all the news, he says: Grandma says, tell Lizzie I do miss her so much! She says the birds are fine and healthy, and are well taken care of. So are the pigeons, for several of the neighboring boys have erected more comfortable winter quarters for them, than they had in your boxes, and they have nearly all left us and gone to the neighbors, much to the distress of John, who cannot be reconciled to such ingratitude, not even in pigeons. For he says, I feeds them every morning, and as soon as they get the corn they fly away. So you will find the world, my dear girl; when they get nothing more from us either in a pecuniary or other point of view, they cease to care for, or to be interested in us. We are therefore warned to seek happiness at home. And the well cultivated, and well balanced mind will always find it there, where no one can deprive us of it. Will you not seek that happiness? It is to be found with the blessed Saviour. He alone can impart it; but He promises that all who seek shall find, and that none shall be turned away without it, if they will seek Him in the appointed way. This letter was written on thanksgiving day. Further on, he continues: And have we not great reason to render thanks to our heavenly Father, when we see how great are his mercies to us, that we have such an abundant harvest while nearly all Europe is in a starving condition? I really think that we have, for these mercies are most undeserved and unmerited; for we have not sought the Lord as we should have done, but have widely departed from him, as a people, and followed the guidance of our own wicked hearts. But let us fear and humble ourselves and repent; and seek the pardon of our sins, and determine that let others do as they will, as for us we will seek and serve the Lord our God! Oh, I pray that the Blessed Spirit may incline the heart of my dear child to consecrate her heart and soul to the service of her Saviour, and her Redeemer.