"Though a man of usually robust constitution, Captain Glazier felt the transitions of climate acutely, but he experiences no ill effects from the long journey now that it is over. The 'iron horse' brought him back to the East of this continent in a few days, and there are probably few men in the States who have formed a higher opinion of the blessings of steam, than Captain Willard Glazier."
Returned to Washington our soldier-author applied himself again to literature, his ever active brain having been sufficiently recruited by the comparative relaxation it had enjoyed during the long ride. One of the fruits of his pen at this time was a volume entitled "Peculiarities of American Cities," a subject upon which his flowing pen expatiates with great freedom and a nice discrimination. That the reader may perceive the bent of Glazier's mind at this period of his history, we here present the brief and succinct preface to that work:
"It has occurred to the author very often," he writes, "that a volume presenting the peculiar features, favorite resorts, and distinguishing characteristics of the leading cities of America, would prove of interest to thousands who could, at best, see them only in imagination; and to others who, having visited them, would like to compare notes with one who has made their peculiarities a study for many years.
"A residence in more than a hundred cities, including nearly all that are introduced in this work, leads me to feel that I shall succeed in my purpose of giving to the public a book, without the necessity of marching in slow, and solemn procession before my readers, a monumental array of time-honored statistics; on the contrary it will be my aim in the following pages to talk of cities as I have seen and found them in my walks from day to day, with but slight reference to their origin and history."
We will bring this chapter to a close by recording one incident in the life of its hero, which, humble and common-place as it may be deemed by some, is one which, in the judgment of a majority of our readers we venture to think, reflects glory upon Willard Glazier as a son, and the nation may well feel proud that can rear many such sons.
A subject of great domestic interest which had occupied his thoughts for a considerable period, but to which he had, in his busy life, been unable hitherto to give the necessary time and attention, at this time again forcibly presented itself to his mind. Glazier's sense of a son's duty to his parents was not of the ordinary type. He was profoundly conscious of the moral obligation that devolved upon him, to render the declining years of his parents as free from discomfort and anxiety as it was within his power to do. They had nursed and trained him in infancy and boyhood; had set before him daily the example of an upright life, and had instilled in him a love of truth, honesty and every manly virtue. Their claim upon him, now that he had met with a measure of success in life, was not to be ignored, and to a good father and a good mother he would, so far as he was able, endeavor to prove himself a good son.
The Old Homestead near the banks of the Oswegatchie, in St. Lawrence County, New York, where his parents still resided; where all their children had been born, and where many happy years had been passed, was not the property of the Glazier family, and there was a possibility that the "dear old folks" might in time have to remove from it. The thought of such a contingency was painful to Willard Glazier. It was the spot of all others around which his affections clung, and he resolved to make a strenuous endeavor to possess himself of it, so that his father and mother might pass their remaining days under its shelter.
He accordingly opened negotiations with the owners of the property for the purchase of the Homestead, and was soon rejoiced to find himself the sole proprietor of a place endeared to him by so many associations.
The following letter to his parents will form a fitting conclusion to this chapter: