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.