A Biographical Sketch of the Life and Character of Joseph Charless / In a Series of Letters to his Grandchildren

by Charlotte Taylor Blow Charless

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.