LAWRENCE J. GUTTER Collection of Chicogoono THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT CHICAGO The University Library OUR COURTSHIP AND OUR MARRIAGE. OUR COURTSHIP OUR MARRIAGE INCIDENTS PRECEDING AND RELATING THERETO, AND OBSERVATIONS SUGGESTED THEREBY. INTENDED EXCLUSIVELY FOR OUR FAMILY. |0 BY JOHN DEAN CATON, LL.D., LATB CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF ILLINOIS. OTTAWA, ILLINOIS. 1870. . TO MY WIFE: WHOSE LIFE AND ACTIONS FURNISH AN EXAMPLE WORTHY OP IMITATION. PREFACE. In the following account of the most interesting, and, in many respects, the most important passage of our lives, I have adhered to the literal facts as they occurred, with the most scrupulous fidelity, so far as a pretty retentive memory, assisted by such aids as were within my reach, would enable me to do so. Nothing has been invented to give piquancy to the tale. I have exaggerated nothing of the inci- dents, and it was impossible to exaggerate any thing of the sentiment. I have submitted all to the inspection of another, and it receives the sanction of her recollection as to those incidents which came within her observation. My short quotations of oral observations, and my extracts, may be relied upon as literally correct. In the longer quota- tions of conversations, I could only hope to give the substance of what was said, in language as nearly accurate as possible. I have interwoven with the narrative episodes and dissertations, as they have occurred, germane to the subject, with the hope that they may be instructive or interesting. This has been truly a labor of love, for, in writing it, I have lived over again the happiest and the most exciting period of my life, and it has afforded me an opportunity to do justice, at least in some measure, to one who has performed her duties and fulfilled her obligations, often under the most trying circumstances, with a quiet earnestness and firm fidelity which are worthy of the highest com- mendation. So has it also enabled me to lay before you some of the striking characteristics of my sainted mother, who discharged her duty to her children with so much judgment and so faithfully, when sur- rounded with so many difficulties and embarrassments. Would that I viii Preface. could perpetuate her virtues, her goodness, and I may add, her great- ness, in some more enduring form. I can never sufficiently acknowl- edge how much I owe her for all that I have been, and all that I am which is good. It has also given me an opportunity, in the course of the narrative, to make mention of several others, as dictated by a remembrance of the kindness shown me at a time when kindness was so grateful. May what I have written prove not only interesting, but instructive, to those few for whose perusal alone it has been prepared. This por- tion of my memoirs was commenced on the 23d of December, 1869, and occupied my leisure hours till the i8th oi January following, and when written, was not designed to be put in print; but as that mass of manuscript can only be held by one of my children, I have been per- suaded to get out a few copies of this portion for family distribution. Had it been designed for the public eye, I should have assumed a tone less free and confidential, and should have omitted many things which are now inserted. I trust that all into whose hands a copy may come, will read in the spirit and treat it with that confidence in which it has been written. OTTAWA, ILL., January, 1870. CONTENTS. PAGE OUR FIRST INTRODUCTION i MY FIRST LOVE-LETTER 3 I CONSULT A FRIEND WHY I DID NOT CALL '5 I MEET HER SISTER 7 SCENE AT THE CHURCH 8 WESTWARD Ho, WITHOUT CALLING n CORRESPONDENCE OPENED 14 THE ETHICS OF LOVE-LETTERS 18 I START TO SEE HER 23 AN ESCAPE ' 25 THE SOUND OF THE CHURCH BELL 26 HARD AGROUND CAPTAIN BLAKE IN A RAGE 26 IN DETROIT 29 WHO I MET IN THE STAGE COACH 29 AMONG FAMILIAR SCENES I LOSE MY VOICE 32 OH, FOR A PHOTOGRAPHER 33 AT MY UNCLE'S 37 WHAT ARE OUR DREAMS? 40 THE MORNING DAWNS 41 JANUARY i, 1870 43 THE SITUATION 43 WK MEET, AND How 45 A HAPPY Two HOURS 51 I MEET THE FAMILY 53 THE DINNER 58 LOVERS ALONE TOGETHER AGAIN 59 V x Contents. PAGE THE RETURN OBSERVATIONS THE PROOF 62 AT DEANSVILLE AGAIN 67 MY SECOND VISIT 68 I OFFER, AND How I WAS ACCEPTED 72 WE PART AGAIN 76 I MEET MY MOTHER 77 ANOTHER VISIT TO NEW HARTFORD 80 A LONG RIDE AMONG FAMILIAR SCENES 82 INTERVIEW WITH A STRANGER 90 AN INTERLUDE 92 MY MOTHER'S COUNSELS 95 SATURDAY'S VISIT ... * 97 THE TIME FIXED 98 THE LADIES BY LAMP-LIGHT 102 OUR FIRST NIGHT UNDER THE SAME ROOF 102 A SABBATH MORNING IN THE COUNTRY 107 ANOTHER SCENE AT THE SAME CHURCH 108 I ASK CONSENT AND GET IT How 114 AFTERWARDS 120 WITH MY MOTHER AGAIN 122 MY LAST VISIT 125 THE LAST GOOD-NIGHT 131 THE PARSON SUMMONED 132 MY LAST PARTING WITH Miss SHERRILL ....... 132 OF THE ANALYSIS OF LOVE 134 THE NIGHT BEFORE 135 FRIENDS THEIR DISCIPLINE 136 CONDUCT AND TENETS OF FRIENDS 138 I START THE WAY TO THE WEDDING 140 MY ARRIVAL SOME THOUGHTS MY TOILET 142 ( )CK MEETING IN FULL ATTIRE 145 THE TOILETS OF THE BRIDESMAIDS AND OF THE BRIDE . . 146 THE MARRIAGE 149 Contents. xi PAGE THE SERENADE 157 MEMORY 158 THE MORNING AFTER 161 COMMENCEMENT 162 THE CONTRAST 163 MY MOTHER'S FAREWELL 167 THE SECOND EVENING 169 ANOTHER FAREWELL A HARD PARTING . 169 WE START OUR TRAVELING COMPANIONS 170 AT AUBURN THE LAST FAREWELL 171 THE NEXT DAY'S RIDE 173 AT BUFFALO I FIND SOME FRIENDS 177 THE TOBACCO SCENE 178 I INTRODUCE HER TO MY FRIENDS 182 BUSINESS THE QUEEN CHARLOTTE 182 WE BOOK FOR THE VOYAGE ON THE QUEEN 184 A PROFESSIONAL OBJECT IN VIEW 185 MY WIFE DISPOSED TO HELP ME 185 WE VISIT HER BROTHER 188 WE Go ON BOARD 188 WE GET UNDER WAY 189 NAUTICAL LESSONS 190 SAIL THROUGH LAKE ERIE 191 BECALMED IN THE RIVER 193 CROSSING THE FLATS AGAIN HARD AGROUND 193 FOREKNOWLEDGE NOT DESIRABLE 194 A FRIGHTFUL INCIDENT 195 IN THE ST. CLAIR RIVER 197 THE CAPTAIN RUDE 198 A STORM SEA-SICKNESS 199 SHORT RATIONS HARD -TACK 200 AN EXCITING RUN . 200 IN MACKINAW WHITEFISH . . . , , . . . . 201 xii Content*. PACE A STEAMER SAIL THROUGH THE STRAITS 202 A SQUALL 203 IN LAKE MICHIGAN BIG SEAS 203 CHICAGO IN SIGHT 205 ETHICS OF EARLY CONJUGAL LIFE 205 READINGS 223 FIRST GLIMPSES OF A NEW HOME 223 AIR CASTLES 224 WE LAND AN AFFECTING MEETING 225 THE INDIANS 227 THE BEACH THE MOONLIT LAKE 228 OUR LITTLE HOME * 229 A GOOD HOUSEWIFE HER FAULTS 232 DINNER AND AN AFTERNOON WALK 233 SOME CALLERS 235 HISTORY OF THE POTTAWATTAMIES 237 MY INDIAN RIVAL 242 THE INDIAN WAR -DANCE 243 You LEAVE Us IN OUR HAPPY LITTLE HOME 248 OUR COURTSHIP AND OUR OUR FIRST INTRODUCTION. I have already stated* how I was first introduced to Miss Laura Adelaide Sherrill. I now propose to give in a connected form the progress of our courtship and our marriage, and to state how I brought her to Chicago. This was a long time ago, but my memory is still fresh on a subject in which I was so much interested then, and which laid the foundation for so much happiness since. From dates which I have lately consulted, I can state that my first introduction to Miss Sherrill, on the sidewalk in Clin- ton, Oneida county, New York, must have been in June, 1831. She was with my cousin, Miss Hannah Dean. They were room-mates at the boarding-school, and intimate and confi- dential friends. The introduction was as we passed each other, and merely elicited a simple recognition. We barely paused, but hardly stopped. No word of conversation oc- curred between us. From that single glance I knciu she was the most beautiful girl th:.t I had ever seen, and I have never changed that opinion. I instantly felt that I was struck. It was love at first sight. In a moment I formed the * This and several other similar allusions which occur in the course of this narrative have reference to my MS. memoirs, written for the perusal of my children, from which this is taken. 2 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. resolution that I would marry that girl if it were possible, and I never wavered for a moment in that resolution or lost sight of that object. Her hair was hanging loosely down her back; her face was fair as a lily, her checks blooming, her lips like cherries, her blue eyes bright and beaming, and her whole countenance lighted up by an expression of intelligence, which was confirmed by a high broad forehead, not seen in one woman in ten thousand. As with a flash of light, all this was photographed on my heart in a single moment ; and there has the picture ever remained, and I trust it will never fade. A post mortem examination should disclose it, distinct in every lineament. " She was a form of life and light, Which, seen, becomes a part of sight." If I was speechless for a time, I could not resist the tempta- tion to turn round and study the form of my charmer, which I did very soon after we had passed each other. The form I thought fully equal to the face. A little above the usual height for girls of her age ; a full, robust contour, large chest, medium- sized waist, and step elastic as a fawn's. She and my cousin went skipping along, half-hopping and half-walking, in which I thought she displayed a most enchanting grace. I even persuaded myself that she cast one or two inquisitive glances behind her, of which I was the object ; but this much she has never admitted, though I may have been the subject of some conversation between the girls. This gave rise to a new class of thoughts. I had never before seen a girl for whom I felt the least partiality in the sense which we call love. For a time she seemed to My First Love -Letter. 3 engross all my thoughts. New lights shone in upon me new ambitions awakened within me new energies animated me. So I went on till I found my studies were actually being interrupted. Then came my first great struggle between the will and the impulses in order to make my inclinations con- form, or rather yield, to duty. Although I partially succeeded, it was a long time before the springs of thought were completely subordinated to the control of the will and made to submit to the dictates of the judgment. In spite of all, I pursued my studies to some purpose. The fact that every day at school cost me a day of toil on the farm was a great stimulant to diligence, and besides, the new situation was a new incitement to increased industry. I was at that time pursuing my studies at Mr. Gros- vener's school, at Rome. I boarded at Mr. Fish's, about a mile out, and I remember I used to indulge myself, while walking either one way or the other, in thinking of my lady-love, so that she actually became associated in my mind with every stone and stake along that road. MY FIRST LOVE-LETTER. After having reflected perhaps a month on the subject, some time in July, 1831, I finally finished a letter which I ventured, with great trepidation, to send her. It was. not full of crazy raptures, but contained enough to show the state of my feel- ings and my purposes. After all, it was, perhaps, well enough for a boy's first love-letter, when we remember the embarrass- ments of my situation, writing to so complete a stranger as she was. It is tedious waiting for an answer to one's first love-letter, 4 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. at least, so I found it. I imagined twenty different forms that it might be like, varying in every shade from the best to the worst. I made them from a single line to an indefinite length. I must do something of the kind or die; for suspense was becoming absolutely crushing. At length I found the answer at the post-office. I sought a secret place, as soon as possible, in which to read it. I did not tear it open in a frenzy; indeed, I rather feared to open it. I studied the superscription awhile to try thereby to read something of the contents. At length, I timidly and cautiously opened the missive which might contain my pardon or my death-warrant. Well, it was all right it was short and polite. I was not repulsed and not much encouraged. It lacked that warmth of cordiality which would have gratified me, but then there was an absence of that reproof which I often felt my presumption deserved. I read it over a^d over many times. I parsed it quite through, in the hope that I might thereby get a single additional idea. I crit- ically Weighed every word, and went to the dictionary to see if I could not find some new meaning to words with which I was perfectly familiar. No doubt many other young lovers have been guilty of some such absurdities ; but probably few, after their beard has become as white as mine is, have frankly acknowledged them. I finally came to the conclusion that the letter was a great deal better than it would have been had it been more to my wishes. I was invited to call whenever it would suit my convenience; and what more could I reasonably ask ? I wrote again, acknowledging her letter in grateful terms, and asked for another reply, promising to call soon, which then I really intended to do. / Consult a Friend Why I did not Call. 5 I CONSULT A FRIEND WHY I DID NOT CALL. On my first visit to Deansville, after this, I was horseback- riding with my cousin Hannah, when I disclosed to her what I had done, asking her interest and advice in the premises, and that she would go with me and make the call. She was evidently much surprised at the step I had taken, and much doubted of my success, but promised to go with me. The next morning she withdrew her promise, and advised me not to call, for the reason that she thought that my awkwardness and unfamiliarity with society would exhibit me to such disad- vantage that it would preclude the probability of a favorable impression, and destroy any chance that I might otherwise have. I was perfectly conscious of the defects to which she alluded, and feared the result she apprehended. They were defects which I knew would be overcome by time, and so I concluded to run the chance and postpone my visit to another time, when rit could be made under more favorable auspices, and when I thought I might do more for myself than I could then. Thus it was that I neglected to make the call that I should have made ; and I was not in a position to explain the omis- sion. While this neglect continued, and without excuse, I had no right to expect any further reply to the two letters which I had written subsequent to the receipt of the note from her. I, however, managed that she should appreciate that I had not forgotten her, but that she continued to occupy as much of my thoughts as ever. I also kept well advised of what she was doing on the subject which interested me most of all. I was 6 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. aware that I had several rivals, some of whom gave me very serious alarm. I felt myself powerless to interpose directly, for I was constantly deterred from entering a personal appear- ance in the conflict, fearing the fatal effect of the contrast between the more polished manners of those who had had more advantages of what may be called society, and my own. The consciousness of my awkwardness I knew would make me appear the more awkward. In fact, I feared I should make myself an object of ridicule and become the subject of the sarcastic remarks of others whom I knew I must meet should I make the call ; for undoubtedly there were enough of those who would be but too willing to throw obstacles in the way of my success. I estimated the value of a little some- thing bordering on the mysterious, and hoped much from the fertile imagination of an ardent girl of eighteen. It was not in human nature but that she must be pleased with the terms in which I had expressed my feelings toward her, and with the fact, of which I managed; in one way or another, to keep her constantly advised, that these feelings were only changed by increased intensity. Under such circumstances I felt sure she must occasionally think of me ; nay, that she must be pleased by such devotion from any young man of respecta- bility ; and I trusted that her imagination would be constantly framing excuses for my conduct, which all must admit was strange, at least. Indeed, I truSted that she might discover something like romance in the affair, which might tend to flavor the sentiment which I hoped had been awakened, and that she would probably invent excuses for me better than I could make for myself, till the time should come when I could / Meet Her Sister. 7 prudently make more direct advances. I often had occasion to pass her father's house, and it is hardly necessary to say that I always looked anxiously to get a glimpse of the object of my idolatry, in which I sometimes succeeded, though not often, and very rarely so as to give me a good look. I occasionally ventured to attend the church at New Hartford and managed to get a sight of her, which always set my heart on fire, but generally managed to avoid observation. I MEET HER SISTER. As I have elsewhere stated, in the summer of 1832, I made the acquaintance of Doctor and Mrs. Cadwell, who was a sister of Miss Laura, while I was studying my profession at Rome. It was evident that the Doctor looked upon me with rather an evil eye, but his good lady always met me kindly and cordially, from which I argued favorable results ; or, at least, that every- thing was not discouraging. I consoled myself with the reflec- tion that her influence must be much more potent than his. As I thought it probable that everything would be reported to Miss Laura, I tried to exhibit myself to the best advantage whenever I met her sister. While I avoided any pointed inquiries after her, I made general inquiries about the family, and the answers showed that she appreciated that I cared more to hear from her than all the rest. To this I gave a most favor- able construction. Although, no direct allusion was ever made to my relations with her sister, or what had taken place between us, in my interviews with Mrs. Cadwell, the subject was recognized in that quiet, unspoken way which may be understood but cannot be described. This did me a great 8 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. deal of good, and I am sure I studied harder from the hope it inspired. SCENE AT THE CHURCH. One Sunday, during that summer, when I was visiting my friends at Utica, I walked over to New Hartford to get another church view of one in whom my affections were so much engrossed. I arrived soon after the morning service had closed, and strolled into the gallery, which was empty, and located myself on a front seat which overlooked the body of the church below. A little to my confusion, I found myself overlooking the Sunday-school. On the left-hand side, and quite at the further end of the church, I saw Mrs. Cadwell, and opposite to and facing her, on the right-hand side, sat Miss Laura. I observed that I was instantly recognized by Mrs. Cadwell, and that, by some sort of telegraphy, she told her sister who I was, and I flattered myself that I could see a flush on her face as she cast a glance in my direction ; but she, at first, seemed disinclined to turn her face half round and look squarely at me ; still, as she had never before seen me so as to remember how I looked, it was evident she was not disposed to forego the opportunity to get one fair look at me, at least. After a few minutes of manifest hesitation, she, as it were in desperation, left her seat and walked down through the aisle to the door, which brought her nearly in front of me. Well, there was no mistaking that she took an earnest look at me then, and it was my turn to grow fed in the face; I, however, returned the earnest scrutiny with interest. This was the only opportunity she ever had, after our first introduction, to see me till I went down to marry her; and, as the light in which Scene at the Church. 9 I sat was not good, that view must have been anything but satisfactory. My impulse was to hasten down and meet her at the door, and, if invited, go home with her to lunch; and had I not been demented I should have done so. But my heart failed me, and I let the golden moment pass unimproved. When it was a minute too late, I fairly cursed my stupidity and bit my lips till they nearly bled in my deep vexation. In my eyes she was even more beautiful than ever. No doubt the incident lent a deeper radiance to her countenance which, it seemed to me, fairly glowed with loveliness. There was the same fasci- nating charm playing about every lineament, and it seemed to me that every man in the world could not help being capti- vated by her. There was the full but graceful form, the same elastic step, natural as possible, entirely destitute of that affec- tation which young ladies too often think so becoming, but which all sensible people look upon as ridiculous and regard as an evidence of a weak intellect, or, at least, of a want of judgment and good taste. If young girls only knew how much such affectation is the sport and ridicule of the young gentlemen, they would try to leave it off as much as they now strive to cultivate it. No one can tell how I rejoiced to see it entirely wanting in her movements down that aisle, where, if she ever knew how to take on such airs, she would have been most likely to have done so. I was as much charmed by her manifest good sense as I was captivated by her beauty. I knew I was not mis- taken she was absolute perfection. I must have her at all events. I would not fail no, I would never fail in what 1 io Our Courtship and Our Marriage. once deliberately undertook. I did not fail ! I was not mis- taken in the object of my admiration or in the fixedness of my purpose. After she had been gone a few minutes I went down from the gallery, and saw her an hundred yards on her way home, in company with some other girl. With longing eyes I watched her every movement, and again admired her matchless form. (There is no doubt I was desperately in love; and the paroxysm has never since subsided ; and as it has been the source of un- told happiness, I trust it never will.) I was greatly elated to observe her cast a few glances back, doubtless to see if I were watching her. Upon such slender threads will love suspend itself. It will gather hope from the slightest incident. It will build its castle upon a single bubble, and light it up with the faintest ray. If she looked back, it was to see me, I thought; and if to see me, then she thought of me ; and if she thought of me, then she was not indifferent to me; yes, she thought of me, and this I magnified into a great point gained. It is well to be so comforted where there is no neutral ground between hope and despair. I am, by nature, hopeful ; prone to look on the bright side of even dark pictures, and this disposition no doubt greatly aided me in the object of my pursuit. Hope stimulates to exertion, if it does not inspire us with an over- weening confidence, which induces a relaxation of energy necessary to accomplish success. Such an excess of hope is as great a misfortune as the want of hope. It is the hope which stimulates, and not that which enervates, which we should ever commend and cultivate. I hardly withdrew my eyes from her till she turned into Westward Ho, Without Calling. 11 her father's gate and disappeared behind the shrubbery, and longer still I looked to where I had seen the last flutter of her dress. Oh, how I longed to go and meet her face to face, to hear the sound of her voice, and look into her ani- mated eye. Could I have been sure of meeting none but her, I might have done so; but the fear of meeting others who would look unfavorably upon me finally deterred me, and I turned slowly away from the church door, and walked back to Utica, my mind so absorbed by the one theme that I was quite oblivious to all else, till again I found myself with my own family. WESTWARD HO, WITHOUT CALLING. The succeeding winter I studied in the office of Mr. Collins, at Vernon, intending to start West the next spring, and select a place to commence the practice of my profession. I made some acquaintances and attended a few parties at Vernon, not so much because I enjoyed them as to acquire some little degree of accomplishment, and that I might appear less awkward, should I conclude to make the long-thought-of call before coming West. As the time approached which I had fixed for my departure, the subject of such a call became a question of the most anxious consideration. I viewed it in every possible light in which it could present itself. I have no doubt it was very ably argued on both sides. All conventional rules the sim- plest considerations of propriety required that I should call, if I intended to prosecute my suit. To leave the country, without calling or saying a single word to her, must be con- strued as a deliberate declaration that I intended to forget her. 12 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. Nearly two years had elapsed since I had first written her and since she had invited me to call, and yet I had neglected to do so, without being able to assign any sufficient, or even any insufficient, reason; and now to go without a word of expla- nation could bear no other construction than a total abandon- ment of the purpose I had manifested in my letters. But more than all, the promptings of my own inclinations, my consum- ing love, the desire I felt to meet and converse with her to see in her eye and hear from her lips some kindly and encour- aging expression, which might animate my hopes and stimu- late me to exertion, which might mitigate the toils which I knew were before me, and lighten the burden which I knew I must bear pleaded stronger and more persistently than all else in favor of that course which all the proprieties of life so clearly pointed out. On the other hand I still feared that I should make an unfavorable impression in a personal inter- view, and should I be so unfortunate, I appreciated how diffi- cult it would be to ever overcome so unpropitious an occur- rence. I believed that I could appear better on paper than I could in person. On the whole, I determined to leave without calling or attempting a word of explanation, but that as soon as I should select a place for a new home, and get settled in business, I would manage in some way to get into a corre- spondence with her, and that I would try to write in such a way as to get her in love with me, from my letters, before she should become acquainted with my person. In the meantime, travel and increased association with the world would wear off that awkwardness, of which I was painfully conscious, by the time I should be in a condition to return and make her pet- Westward Ho, Without Calling. 13 sonal acquaintance. I placed great reliance on the assistance of the imagination, which the reading the language of love by a young girl would be sure to bring to my aid and whisper words in my favor, warmer and more fervent than any I could speak in my own behalf. How I should get her into such a correspondence I did not certainly see. But, to start with, when a thousand miles apart, there was much less impropriety in her answering my letters without a personal acquaintance than when I could call at any moment. Now I had no excuse for not calling then it would be impossible. For the rest, I must trust to good management and good fortune. No one who has never been in my position can imagine the struggle it cost me to make my inclination yield to my judgment, when all the most palpable and tangible arguments were in favor of the former, and the latter was only supported by what, at the first consideration at least, would appear to be artificial reasoning. Still my deliberate judgment was in favor of the course I adopted, and by the exercise of an iron will I compelled my inclinations to submit. As you have already seen, this was not the first struggle of the kind I had had to encounter; and when I have looked back upon it since, I have been astonished at the self-control I was enabled to exercise. I have even allowed myself to think it quite creditable for a boy of twenty-one to thus chasten those feelings which at that age are so blind, so turbulent and so uncontrollable. But from childhood I had been trained in the school of self-denial and self-reliance, and I have found its lessons of the greatest value through my whole life. As the result was success, I may conclude that my decision was dictated by true wisdom ; for r4 Our Courtship and O:tr Marriage. the sacrifice which I then made has been richly rewarded. Had the result been otherwise, I might No matter; I will not look on that side of the picture, for it can neither be pleas- ant nor profitable. CORRESPONDENCE OPENED. I have just read over that letter for the first time since it was put in the post-office, more than thirty-five years ago. It was written at Chicago, on the 26th day of May, 1834, to Miss Hannah F. Dean, my cousin, who had introduced me to Miss Sherrill on the sidewalk, as before related. We had already had some correspondence on the subject of my open- ing a communication with Miss Laura, in which she had encouraged me to do so, and this letter was, in fact, written to be shown to that lady, although not with that ostensible object. My judgment now is that it was well designed to produce the desired effect. Indeed, I think it shows more skill than I should suppose I at that time possessed. It commences, after a short introduction, with a statement of the deep and ever- growing affection I felt for Miss Laura. It explains my not having called on her before coming West by informing her that, before committing myself further, I wished to test the depth and strength of my attachment by mingling more in society and seeing more of the world, and to observe the effect of absence upon my feelings; that now, after all these trials and tests, I found my love ever-growing for her, and I was now convinced I could never live happily without her. After a page or more of this, stated in as strong terms as good taste would admit, I passed on to a description of the country, Correspondence Opened. \ 5 which I pictured in the most glowing colors. I painted the prairies as wild gardens covered with a thousand kinds of flowers of every hue and color, which loaded the air with their rich perfume. There was an evident design to make her fall in love with the country'. I then passed on to my business and prospects. The former was large and increasing the latter bright and hopeful. I had succeeded in the first court, which I had just attended, better than I could have hoped, and had received the congratulations of all my friends. The manifest object of this was to create the impression that I was doing well and getting to be a man of some consequence. In all this I was, no doubt, very sincere, though the very circum- stances of the case compelled me to sound my own praises. I then described a ride to Ottawa, to attend the court there. It seems I journeyed across the prairies in a gig, and I pictured the pleasure of the ride, could I have had my cousin by my side or, better still, the nameless one over the fragrant prairies and among the brilliant wild flowers. Here was another attempt to fascinate her with the country. I then changed tactics a little, and described Ottawa and its society, and especially extolled the beauty of its young ladies and the gay times and gallant intercourse I had with them. Here was an evident attempt to play upon that universal weakness of human nature which we call jealousy, or the stimulating effects of any prospects of rivalry. But at last, I said, it was all husks whenever I turned my thoughts to another far away whose image was constantly presenting itself before me. In her discrecion, my cousin was authorized to communi- cate as much of the state of my feelings as she thought best 1 6 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. to Miss Sherrill, and, if possible, to obtain an intimation from her that she would receive a letter from me kindly, and above all things, to do this very quickly, as I should be in great distress till I heard from her. This letter was forwarded to Miss Sherrill by my cousin through the mail, though I had hoped that it would have been handed to her in person and some personal influence exerted in my behalf. From some cause, I could never quite understand, Miss Dean seemed to have had an aversion to attempt any direct influence in my behalf in this matter; but after all, perhaps, it was as well. In due time I received a letter from Hannah, either cover- ing one from Miss Sherrill to her, or informing me herself, that a letter from me would be acceptable. Neither of these letters has been preserved, and I cannot, from memory, speak par- ticularly of their contents. The first I find is a letter from Miss Laura, dated August 26, acknowledging the receipt of one from me of July 29th. Whether this was the first letter I wrote her from Chicago, and that the first received from her, I cannot positively affirm from memory; nor is the matter solved by the contents of her letter. From the time which elapsed it seems these should not have been the first, and yet the time was pretty short for a previous exchange of letters. That is a good long letter of three large pages, and my recollection is that the first from her was a short but kind letter of but one page. I well remember that in my first letter to her I did my best, and that it was pretty long. There was as much of love in it as I thought at all admissible, and a good deal of description of the beauties of the country. This was a point I kept constantly in view. As it v.\is Correspondence Opened. 17 necessary that she should make up her mind to come to this country, it was important for me to create a desire in her to see it, a favorable impression of the country was second only to a favorable impression of myself. It is quite interesting to observe in my letters how grad- ually and yet pretty rapidly I passed in the address, from "Friend" and "Respected Friend," to "Dear Friend" and " Dear Laura," and " Dear Girl," and " My Dear Laura " "My Dear Girl," and, finally, "My own Dear Love." Nor was it long before the text abounded with these and other similar appellations. Indeed, I took no pains to conceal my ardent love from the beginning, but my expressions grew more and more earnest and ardent as the time approached when I should go down and see her, and, as I hoped, secure her. So, too, on her part, the diffident reserve which at first characterized her letters gradually melted away and gave place to more genial and cordial expressions, manifesting an increasing interest and feeling, which filled me with hope and happiness. Through- out, I put the best face on my business prospects, though never exceeding what the truth would fairly justify. I commenced my judicial career as a justice of the peace, to which office I was elected early in 1834, and officiated very frequently at weddings, in town and country. Indeed, I was rather popular in that way. Whenever these marriages were noticed in the Chicago Democrat, the only paper then printed in Chicago, I was sure to send her a copy. This, I thought, would serve to impress her with the fact that I was a man of some importance in the community. I am sure I resorted to this before I opened the correspondence with her. It 3 1 8 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. served to tell her that I was still thinking of her, and to keep me alive in her memory. Things went on hopefully, and I may say, swimmingly, though I never could find an expression in one of her letters that she loved me; but I was her "Dear Friend," and the object of her most sincere regard, and all that; but then I poured into the correspondence love enough for both sides. She never promised to marry me in terms, but I knew she meant to, and I was content with that; indeed, I was obliged to be, though I felt that I would give a tooth or an eye for some warmer expressions some such as I used toward her. But she said enough to keep my spirits high in the ecstacies. My hopeful disposition came to my aid wonderfully here, and made me happy, when, perhaps, another would have been miserable. Hitherto I had studiously avoided setting any time for going down to see her ; but, on the 3oth of May, 1835, I wrote her that in about a month I expected to be able to start on the wings of love and fly to meet her, and that I hoped to bring her back with me ! Of course I manifested all the raptures proper at such a prospect, and hinted at the terrible consequences should I be so unfortunate as not to prove acceptable upon a personal acquaintance. I did not threaten to go and hang myself, but hinted that it would be a sort of luxury to be desperately miserable all the rest of my days. THE ETHICS OF LOVE-LETTERS. Love-letters are written for no one to see but the parties them- selves. In order to become interesting to the parties to whom they are addressed they must be indited in a style to appear quite ridiculous to all the rest of the world. As in the inter- The Ethics of Ltn>e-Letiers. 19 course between husband and wife, a thousand things occur in them which imply a confidence of the most sacred character, and I am not sure but that, like conjugal intercourse, they should be held sacred, even from courts of justice, when evi- dently written in good faith. Of course, much of them may be read by strangers without impropriety, but still, expressions and sentiments often occur which are really very proper when read only by the one for whom they are written, and who can sympathize with the spirit that dictated them, while they will excite only ridicule, or even disgust, in those destitute of that sympathy. If, therefore, we ever by chance, or in the performance of a duty, read the missives of love between other parties, let us never forget that we should appreciate their posi- tion, and read their words in the light of that affection which dictated them. Let others remember that, if they have written such letters themselves in sincerity of heart, they have probably written things which would appear to be as proper subjects for levity and sport as these. He who has sincerely loved and I believe that none else can be really happy will always have respect for that peculiar tone and expression which love alone can dictate, and which alone can be fully manifested in the unreserved confidence of love. A true love-letter is written in the same tone and spirit in which lovers talk to each other when alone, and when there is that implied confidence, sacred to the feelings of the rudest as well as the most refined, that neither thought nor expression shall ever come to the ears of others. The endearments, the fondlings, the caressings, which are universal, and therefore we may conclude are very proper, between such as occupy the relations and feel the sentiments of so Our Courtship and Our Marriage. those we call lovers, would be ridiculous, if not disgusting, when enacted in the presence of others. One who would write a love-letter proper to be read by others would be no lover, but rather a cynic, or at least a cold-blooded philosopher, not well calculated to win the favor of any but a blue-stocking who would never be induced to marry any one from a sentiment of love itself. Indeed, such a person would be incapable of gen- uine love, and probably would insist that there is, in truth, no such refined sentiment as most of mankind think they have experienced, but that it is only the impulse of animal nature subdued by refinement of expression into what those who have not analyzed their own feelings, ignorantly call love, which must go out.so soon as the natural promptings by which it was inspired have subsided, leaving only respect and friendship, at most, where the object is capable of inspiring these. A person holding these sentiments may, no doubt, write a love-letter though not worthy of the name which might read well to everyone except her to whom it was written, unless she, too, were of the same phlegmatic nature. But it is a blessed thing that such natures are the exceptions, and that a large majority of man and womankind believe in a purer, a higher and a holier love, which is the basis of the most supreme happiness known to human beings. It is accompanied by that congeniality of sen- timent, that sympathy of feeling, which delights in each other's society, and in rendering each other happy. There is an unselfishness in it which enables it to ameliorate the conduct and the feelings of the most selfish mortals toward the object of love, although it may not absolutely control them. This will only be questioned by those who are strangers to the sen- The Ethics of Love-Letters. 2 1 timent of love, such as I have described. It is long-suffering, patient, and forgiving. Only such a state of feeling can make life happy or even tolerable to those who are to live together as one, through life to its end. I do not find the letter which I received in answer to the one in which I announced my intention to go and see her to whom it was addressed, and expressed the hope that she would return with me, but I well remember that it was quite satisfactory. It gave me assurance that I should be looked for anxiously, and would be received with a welcome, and it gave the implied assurance that I should not be disappointed in my hopes, although I knew that at last all must depend on my being personally acceptable to her. That she was satisfied with my mental endowments, so far as developed by my letters, with my character and my prospects, I had every reason to believe ; but there was another ordeal through which I must pass, and on which my final success must depend, which caused me deep anxiety, and yet my hopeful disposition enabled me to look to the future with confidence. During the intervening month I wrote her several times, in a style and strain which might be expected from my position. On reflection, I think I will give an example of my style of love- writing, by an extract from the conclusion of the letter of the I3th of June, in which I fix the 28th of that month for the day of my departure: " It is hard for me to persuade myself that I am to meet you so soon. The idea has in it so much of hope and anxiety and happiness that I hardly dare to indulge it. When thinking of that coming time when all my fond and anxious anticipations may be realized, the moments alternately fly with 22 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. the rapidity of thought and linger as though they loved to torture me with delay. My days are spent in darling hopes of times to come, and my nights in dreams of happiness. Nothing has sufficient force to drive you from my mind. You are ever present with me, caressing me in pleasure and cheering me in trouble. As you are the constant tenant of my heart, so are you the ever-occupant of my thoughts. Oh, that you could know how much I think of you how much I love you; and oh, that I could have some assurance that that love would be returned ! Mingle hope and fear and we drink the draught till we are intoxicated." Remember, I was desperately in love, and was not sure that that love would be returned ; that I was very young ; had had few educational advantages, and that, as yet, almost all my reading had been confined to law books, which are not the most lively teachers on such a subject. I may truly say that whatever I wrote was all my own and was designed for the exclusive perusal of her to whom it was addressed. Since I have ventured to give one extract from that corre- spondence, I think I may as well give another, which, although written in the form of prose, and evidently without the least thought of anything else, seems to have fallen into a sort of measure. A very long letter bears the dates of I5th, i6th, 1 9th, 2oth and 26th of January, 1834. Here is what I wrote, and all I wrote on the i6th: " 'The noon of night' is nearly past and yet I do not wish to sleep. I choose to sit and think of you, and pen my thoughts for you to read. Would that I could sleep, for duty calls me to my pillow. But why sleep ? We live but half our / Start to See Her. 23 lives, if half we sleep; for time thus spent seems lost; and still, at times, soft sleep is sweet when fondly cling around us in our dreams the memories of those we love. Ijrve ! It is a word at which we start as when a long expected truth is first before us plainly laid. The word again returns and lingers on the lips with very sweetness; and, indeed, 'A dreadful question is it when once we love To ask if lot-e's returned ' 9 We dwell upon the thought and look into the heart as a volume often read but never understood. We know not what we do and almost care not ! We cannot suit ourselves with our own efforts and yet we try again. I must lay down this distracted pen which, perhaps, I had better not disturbed." I must have been more than half distracted when, past mid- night, I wrote this disjointed extract ; still there are one or two thoughts in it, if better expressed, would bear perusal, at least by the partial eyes of love. I START TO SEE HER. Toward the evening of the 3Oth of June, 183^3 young gentleman "might have been seen" at the little dock on the Chicago River, just east of Dearborn street, taking a couple of black leather trunks into a lighter, where he arranged himself with as many other passengers as it would hold, which soon pulled out to the steamer Michigan, which lay at anchor a mile away in the offing. He was dressed very plainly, determined to make no new acquaintances on the voyage, and not to min- gle in the festivities of the crowd, which was the most gay and distinguished that had ever been assembled on these lakes. 24 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. There was General Cass, then Secretary of War, and his suite, together with his two daughters young ladies, not beautiful by any means, but still well accomplished. With them there was a large collection of their young friends from Detroit. There was Governor Mason, only twenty years of age, then, by accident, Governor of Michigan. I thought he felt his greatness wonderfully, but I doubt not there were few young men who in his position would have behaved with more pro- priety. There was General Brady, of the army, then com- manding at Fort Brady, on the St. Clair River, and many others of distinction. We had a fine band of music, and the steamer, decked out in gorgeous colors, was full of passengers. She was the second boat that had been to Chicago that season, having been preceded by the Thomas Jefferson about a month before. The nights were spent in dancing in the cabin, and the days with plays and amusements on deck and in the cabin, and a good deal of flirting withal. I determined to seek no introduction to that joyful set. Indeed, I had no inclination to mingle with them. I preferred to sit alone by myself and commune with my own thoughts and feast on my anticipations. There were quite a number of gentlemen on board with whom I was acquainted, who had been to Chicago to attend the land sales. Among these I may mention Generals James R. and Grove Lawrence, of Onondaga county, New York, both of whom were distinguished lawyers, in conversation with whom I spent as much of my time as with all others, for I could profit more by it than in conversation with another class. An Escape. 25 AN ESCAPE. When I went on deck the next morning we were anchored off Michigan City, whose sand hills lay before us, a mile dis- tant. The yawl had been sent ashore for passengers. The cook came on deck and opened his pig-coop, and while he was taking out some for our dinner one smart little fellow man- aged to slip from his hands, and make a rush through the crowd who were gathered around to see the operation. For- tunately he found an opening in the bulwarks, through which he plunged into the lake with a defiant squeal. This elicited cheer after cheer for the gallant pig, which completed the rage of the cook, who could see no fun in the escape of the infantile swine and understood the cheering as a personal indignity to himself. All rushed to the side of the ship to watch the pig. There was no wind, but a heavy, dead swell. The moment the pig touched the water he struck for the nearest land with as much certainty as if he had surveyed his route with the greatest care. He rode the waves proudly. It was absolutely laughable, while he was near by, to watch him go over the top of the swells, and his long slender tail, which was working in the water like a snake, switch out for an instant as he broke over the crest and commenced the descent. Many a glass was brought to bear upon him, and his course watched with real solicitude, as he could be seen whenever he rose to the top of a wave. At last he was seen to land and disappear behind a sand-hill, with the hearty congratulations of all but the discomfited cook. 26 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. THE SOUND OF THE CHURCH BELL. While we were laying in the little harbor at Mackinaw, I was sitting on deck admiring the view, which was then new to me, I was startled by the sound of the mission church bell. I im- mediately arose and took off my hat and remained uncovered while the sound continued. The sound of that church bell produced a sensation a thrill which is indescribable. For more than two years I had not heard the tone of a bell, and I was not looking for it then. It was entirely unexpected, and it revived within me a thousand pleasing remembrances and associations of by-gone times. HARD AGROUND CAPTAIN BLAKE IN A RAGE. Toward evening of the third of July we passed out of the St. Clair River into Lake St. Clair. No improvements had then been made there, and navigation was obliged to follow the natural channel, which was in many places crooked and in others shallow. The first bend we came to was nearly a right angle ; but Captain Blake, ambitious to show off a little in the presence of Mr. Newberry, the owner, and the distinguished company who crowded the deck, concluded to go round the bend at full speed instead of slacking up and creeping round, as was usual and prudent. Now, Captain Blake was a well- known character on the lakes at that time, who had been upon them from boyhood. My uncle, Thomas Dean, Esq., had sailed with him in a schooner to Green Bay, I think in the year 1817. He was undoubtedly an excellent sailor, and no Hard Aground Captain Blake in a Rage. 27 one knew that channel better than he did. He had placed six men at the wheel, including the third mate. He placed him- self in the shrouds of the foremast, about ten feet from the deck, whence to issue his orders. He was a powerful, heavy man, and the roughest specimen I ever met with. When in anger he was absolutely terrific. At the proper time, or prob- ably an instant too late, he ordered the wheel, hard over. The men sprang to it as if their lives were at stake. She did not come to in time, but run her whole length into the soft bottom till it stopped her, when her bow was imbedded at least four feet in the mud. Before the ship had fairly stopped the Cap- tain sprang, at a single leap, to the deck, and rushed to the wheel-house in such a towering passion as I had never before and have never since seen. It was positively sublime. For a moment he could not even swear. Soon, however, he recovered his speech, and then such volleys of oaths ! Every one present seemed to shudder. His voice was like thunder, and he fairly coined words of profanity for the occasion. It appeared to me that no one had ever before thought of such terrible words in such monstrous combinations. All seemed to feel as if we had a raging lion in our midst. All shrunk away as far from him as possible, except the poor men at the wheel, who dared not leave their places till ordered. He made directly for them, and it really appeared as if he would annihilate them all in a moment. They turned pale and visibly trembled, but did not move a step. He addressed himself principally to the mate, whom he accused of intentionally turning the wheel the wrong way, although it there stood hard over in the direction ordered. He applied to him a cloud of epithets as monstrous as they 28 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. were blasphemous. The mate nor any one else dare breathe a single word in reply. Everything was as still as death except the damning eloquence of the enraged Captain, who actually foamed at the mouth. Should I attempt to write down his horrible, unheard-of words, the ink would boil and my pen would fairly burn. At last, when he had completely exhausted himself and his vocabulary of profanity, he turned away, to endeavor to extricate the ship, ordering the men to follow him. The steam could not move her. He got both anchors out, and with the most powerful purchase he could combine tried to pull her bow around into the channel, ordering the passen- gers, from General Cass and Mr. Newberry down to the lowest, with as much of command as the common sailor. I recollect the next day, after he had got her so she would move a little with a great head of steam, he was trying to back her off, he ordered all the passengers on deck to trot from one side to the other to rock her. It was amusing to see General Cass, who was a very heavy old man, lead us all on a good trot from one side to the other, and then back, at the word given by the Cap- tain. The old gentleman took it in excellent part, and seemed to rather enjoy it, appreciating, no doubt, the good effect of his example. The work went on all night long without interrup- tion. Considering my mission and the state of my mind, it may well be imagined that I was impatient of the delay, and was more inclined to work through the night than to go to my berth, as most of the passengers did. At length, after remov- ing a large amount of freight to a scow, the ship was got off and into the channel again and the freight reshipped, so that in the afternoon of the next day we resumed our voyage, and In Detroit. Who I Met in the Stage -Coach. 29 reached Detroit just at dusk. So I passed the fourth of July, 1835- IN DETROIT. I spent the evening looking through Detroit, where I pur- chased two or three light vests, in one of which I was married. The next morning found us on Lake Erie. We reached Buffalo on the afternoon of the second day. The weather had been beautiful during the whole voyage, and I had plenty of time and opportunity to indulge sweet visions of the future. I hardly allowed myself to admit the possibility of disappoint- ment or failure in the great enterprise in which I was engaged the greatest, the most important, of my whole life. WHO I MET IN THE STAGE-COACH. I left Buffalo in the evening in a stage filled with a party made up on the steamer. The second morning after, we stopped to change horses at Auburn. There were a large number of coaches to carry the passengers on one way-bill. Some of our original party had dropped off, and others were now assigned their places. I was on the front seat and a new- comer took his seat directly in front of me, whom I instantly recognized as Mr. Lewis Sherrill, an uncle of my sweetheart, and a very near neighbor. I, however, said nothing, but assumed as wise and dignified a look as possible. Before the stage started the agent came along with the way-bill in his hand and read off the names of the passengers to see if all and no more were on board. When my name was called and I answered, Mr. Sherrill started, as if a bodkin had been thrust into him. He was a rather diffident man and had naturally a 30 Our Courtship and Our Marriage, florid complexion, but it now seemed as if all the blood in his body had rushed to his face. He cast at me many a side glance, but hesitated to look me squarely in the face. I, however, ap- peared as unconcerned as possible, and affected not to recog- nize him. I soon got into a conversation with some acquaintance about the West, and warmed myself into as much eloquence as possible in describing its beauties, its richness, and its future greatness. Without appearing too plainly to do so, it was evident that Mr. Sherrill listened to every word with a lively in- terest. At that time it was not every day that one could meet, in Central New York, with a resident of the then far West a country which was beginning to attract much interest. It was comparatively little understood, and every one seemed anxious to hear every particular about it. I had already talked about the new West so much that I had got my ideas pretty well arranged as to the points most interesting to listeners, and even the mode of expressing myself had assumed something of a definite form, much more distinct and easy than if I had not become so familiar with the subject. Most of my hearers had many questions to ask, and I could see that Mr. Sherrill was full of them and almost dying to get them out; but hi-s extreme diffidence kept him silent. Before long we stopped for breakfast, and almost as soon as we got into the house Mr. S. gave me a little pull at the coat and intimated that he would like to see me alone. He led the way to a deserted hall, when he turned round, rolling one thumb over the other, and so embarrassed that he could hardly articulate, stammered out: " Is your name Mr. Caton ?" Who I Met in the Stage -Coach. 31 "Yes, sir; that is my name," I replied, with an assumed air of indifference, which I by no means felt. "I think I have heard of you before," he said, manifesting a little more confidence, and even with a little roguish look out of one corner of his eye. "Indeed," said I; "have I had the pleasure of meeting you before? and will you also allow me to inquire your name?" "My name," said he, "is Lewis Sherrill, of New Hartford. I am an uncle of Laura Sherrill, whom I believe you know. You are expected down about this time." Now was the time for demonstrations on my part. I did not hug and kiss the good man, but everything short of that I did. His hand and right arm must have been lame for the next week. He seemed now more embarrassed with my im- petuosity than he had been before. I overwhelmed him with questions about my love and her family, while he stammered out only half intelligible answers. Soon the bell rang for breakfast and cut short our little drama, which would have brought down the house had we only had an audience. We breakfasted side by side, and took our seats in the coach together. Conversation was quite free between us. I asked a tho-isand questions about the family, and without appearing to do so, satisfied myself of the opinion entertained of me and of the extent of my prospects in regard to my suit. All seemed well and I was in fine spirits. It was evident I was thought as well of as I deserved. I knew that all I said would be directly reported that very night, and my every expression was with a view to such report. I did not conceal the deep interest I felt in the family, and learned with great satisfaction that 32 Our Courtship and Our Mrs. Sherrill, who had had a long and tedious sickness, was recovering, and was able to be about the house, at least to some extent. This was a great relief to me, for I had appre- hensions, if she had grown worse, that it might of itself post- pone my marriage even though all else were satisfactory. Here, then, was one great source of anxiety removed, which strengthened my confidence in my destiny in this matter. AMONG FAMILIAR SCENES I LOSE MY VOICE. The weather had been pleasant during the whole of this journey from Buffalo, and I had been constantly delighted to again find myself m an old settlod country, where all the land was enclosed, and which was scattered over with comfortable farm-houses. This sensation of delight became really exciting as I entered Oneida county and began to pass among scenes and objects long ago familiar to me, and surrounded with associations of former times. Two years absence in the then far West, where most of the country was still in a state of nature, had prepared me to enjoy the scenes around me almost with the freshness and novelty which I should have experienced had I then seen them for the first time. Espe- cially, the hills seemed much higher, though the distances appeared much less, since I had become so accustomed to the extensive views and even surfaces of the prairies; and when I approached the Dcerfield hills and the high lands of Augusta and Paris I was surprised to observe how high and how near they appeared. I experienced a distinct sensation of confine- ment, and remarked to others that it seemed as if I could not breathe freely so much was the imagination affected. Oh, for a Photographer. 33 I had somehow taken a severe cold, which so affected my throat that by noon I could hardly articulate audibly. This was very unfortunate. It would not do to present myself under such disadvantages; so I made up my mind that I must restrain my impatience till I should be in a condition to plead my own cause under less embarrassment. Accordingly, I stopped at Manchester, four or five miles from New Hartford, and hired a man with a one-horse wagon to take me and my baggage to Deansville, where I thought, with a little nursing, I would soon regain my voice. Here I wrote a note to Miss Laura, explaining that I was ill, and should go to my uncle's to recruit for a day or two, but that as soon as I was able 1 should call upon her. OH, FOR A PHOTOGRAPHER. The necessity of this postponement was a very severe trial to me who had so fondly anticipated that I should see her the next morning. My desire to see her had increased with every mile passed over which brought me nearer to her. I longed to convince myself that she was the same beautiful, sweet girl full of brightness in every expression of her face full of love- liness in every motion as when I had last seen her; and I knew she must not be less anxious to see and know what manner of man he was to whom she had so nearly committed herself, for I knew she had not seen enough of my person to be sure of recognizing me in the street should she meet me. Alto- gether, I knew that her situation must cause as much or even more solicitude than my own. Unfortunately, the art of making photograph pictures was 34 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. not then known. Had it been, it would certainly have been a source of great gratification to us. Ah ! yes ; how happy it would have made us could we have exchanged likenesses. It is a pleasing speculation to imagind the anxious eye, the flushed cheek, and the trembling hand, which would have been wit- nessed when opening a letter known to contain my picture, and how impatient she would have been to look upon a faithful likeness of one with whom she had so long corresponded on the subject of love and marriage one who had so often declared his sincere devotion to her in the most passionate terms, and whom she had every reason to believe did love her with a most undying constancy indeed, as few girls had ever been loved before. It was not in human nature that she should not be almost consumed with not curiosity, but deep anxiety to know how such a man looked, to be able to determine whether she could love him in return ; or, rather, to know whether the love which she already felt would be extinguished or augmented by a personal acquaintance. Of course, her imagination must have formed a picture of me, but then uni- versal experience must have taught her that such picture could not be true, and in all probability was more flattering to me than the truth would justify. I should have been scarcely less happy to have had her likeness to carry in my bosom by day and to lay under my pillow at night. How I would have talked to it how I would have kissed it. How, I had almost said, I would have prayed to it; and, in a proper sense, I will say so; for I should daily have implored it to love me as I did her. But 1 had the unspeakable advantage of knowing how she looked, how she moved, and Oh, for a Photographer. 35 even how she acted, in certain situations, at least. I knew the form of her features, the color of her eyes, the shade of her complexion. These were all so deeply impressed on my mind, and were thought over so many times every day, that they were familiar to me ; still, two or three years, at her time of life, must have made some changes, and I was anxious to know what these changes were, though I felt certain they were not for the worse, and I was sure they could not be for the better. No; it was impossible for nature to make anything in woman's form, and certainly in no other, more beautiful and more lov- able than she was when I first and when I last saw her. We had exchanged locks of hair that was some comfort and we had promised to exchange miniatures, but these were not easily obtained; in fact, it was impossible in Chicago, and so that purpose had never been accomplished. O for a photo- grapher! But such a thing was never dreamed of then, nor hardly for ten years later. That blessed invention has come to the relief of absent lovers since. Rarely has the case existed where its services were so great a necessity as in ours, and yet we lived through it. If it were true that "necessity is the mother of invention," then would sunlight pictures have been invented at that time. It is not true ; for it did not come in that great emergency. Still she could see that my hair was soft and fine and as black as a raven's wing, and I had the evidence constantly before me that hers was a soft brown auburn. How many times I kissed that little lock I can never tell, and how many times I looked over each individual fiber, and felt of its soft texture, and thought of the time when I should have the right to fondle the whole mass in my hand, 36 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. no one can ever know ; but I do know that whenever I got to that point my eyes would swim, my head grow dizzy, my heart would come up into my throat and swell out so as almost to choke me, my blood would course through my veins like a rushing torrent, at fever heat, and I had to rush away from the contemplation for fear I would go distracted. In such a frame of mind, it may seem a wonder how I was capable of attending to business at all how it was possible for me to study my profession with profit; and yet I did do it, and most success- fully. I really studied very hard, and did a large amount of business ; for my professional practice was good. I did it because, by the mere force of will, I could drive even the subject of my love entirely away, and not allow it to come and intrude itself on my thoughts, when it was necessary that I should concentrate them on any other subject. The habit of mental concentration of thinking of one thing exclusively without the intrusion of any thing else the subjection of the mind to the will I had already formed to a very large extent, and indeed this emergency gave me an opportunity to cultivate the faculty much more. This is a faculty left almost entirely to self-culture, and is quite too much neglected by a large class, if not by most men and women, and yet it is of the greatest importance to one who is required to do a large amount of business, and more especially if it be of a varied character. But if I expelled my loved one from my thoughts when duty required it, I freely gave way to the sweet indulgence very often, and then I made that a business, too. I gave my- self up to it as exclusively, forbidding the intrusion of all other At My Uncle s. 37 subjects, as was my habit with other subjects when they demanded my attention. Such love-feasts were the luxuries of my life. I feasted at such times almost to repletion. I drank at that sweet fountain ever-welling up, when permitted, till I became fairly intoxicated every day, and I am not sure that I am quite sober yet ! AT MY UNCLE'S. But I have forgotten that the man with the one-horse wagon has long since got my trunks on board, and is waiting all this time to take me away to Deansville, so I will expel this branch of the subject from my mind, which, were I to indulge my inclinations, I should pursue for ten or twelve pages more, and I will go on with my journey in a quiet, sober way, as becomes a man with glasses on his nose, whose beard is as white as snow and whose locks have lost all of their original color. We reached my uncle's before sunset, and I was received with a hearty welcome. That was a pleasant evening I passed there. We had much to talk about. I had a thousand inquiries to answer about my new home and about my pros- pects. I found a quiet hour to talk with Hannah about the object of my love. I imagine that such themes are usually interesting to girls of twenty years or so. Next to their own loves, the loves of others are perhaps the most interesting sub- jects of all for their discussion ; and as she had had a some- what active part in mine in the beginning, and had been, to a considerable extent, the confidant of both, it was right and proper that it should be all talked over between us, and there 38 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. is no doubt it was pretty thoroughly discussed on that occa- sion. Of course she could tell me much about Miss Laura that I was anxious to hear, and I listened to every word most eagerly. She would, no doubt, be one of the bridesmaids, and what she should wear and who should stand with her were not neglected, though that part of the subject which related more directly to the object of my passion was much more tasteful to me. But my physical condition was not neglected. I was made to sip of a dish of honey and vinegar, diluted a little, and when I went to bed my throat was swaddled in a roasted onion and an old stocking, the odor of which, I doubt not, was lost in the happy thoughts that possessed me, for I have no recollection that I noticed it at all. To recover articulate speech and the natural tone of my voice in the shortest possible time, I was ready to submit to any treatment which could have been prescribed. I expected to find my dear mother at my uncle's, and was sadly disappointed that she was not there. I thought she would surely come the next day and that, should I go to Utica to see her, I should most likely pass her on the road ; so I con- cluded to remain where I was as probably affording the means of soonest meeting her. Next to my sweetheart, I longed most to see her who had ever been to me so good a mother ; but, till I had children of my own to love, I had no conception of the desire she must have had to see me, which, I can now appre- ciate, was much stronger than was mine to see her. As for myself, I had another one to love and to long to see, and I suppose that the one desire modified the other, as one dis- At My Uncle's. 39 temper is said to ameliorate another when the patient has both at the same time. The next morning my cold was much better, and I found myself able to speak above my breath; but still I was by no means in a presentable condition, and I determined, much against my inclination, to remain quiet that day and continue a vigorous treatment and recover as much as possible of my natural tone of voice, for I felt that nothing could keep me longer than till the following morning from New Hartford. Still I did not write to inform Miss Laura when I would call, hoping to receive a letter from her in the course of the day, and knowing that she would be looking for me constantly and would be pretty well prepared to meet me at any time with- out further notice. I will not say that I slept very soundly the succeeding night; but I can safely assert that I dreamt much yes, I dreamed many dreams of love and happiness indescribable. How often in my dreams I repeated the call I was to make the next day; how many different receptions I met with I can not relate; but so were my thoughts, whether asleep or awake, occupied all the night long. Indeed, I fear my dear mother, who I loved so much and really so longed to see, found little place in my meditations then. But she had loved once, too, and I doubt not would have forgiven me for reveling in the delights of that new world which seemed just opening to me. Oh, it was a world of bliss, garnished all over with bright scenes and brilliant flowers, and filled with the rich fragrance of an incense as pure and holy as anything ever born of earth. 4 much the worse for him for being the fool to lose it; Paradise Gained would just now fit my case better. How- ever, before I could find the latter, books fell to a low discount ; for I heard a quick step tripping down the stairs. The foot- fall sounded right and I knew it was hers. As I moved toward the door the latch turned ; it opened, and a single step by each brought us face to face and our right hands joined! ! She was pale, and her under lip quivered in deep 'emotion; but she looked me steadily in the eye. I saw, as if by the light of electricity, that the look was satisfactory. At the instant, I was absolutely choked was suffocated, and could not speak. She first obtained control of articulation, and said: "Mr. Caton, I believe ; you are welcome to New Hartford." But her voice trembled with agitation, and she hardly spoke above her breath. I did not get down on my knees before her and sob and cry, and make a fool of myself, as I should have done to fill out a chapter of romance ; but with a trembling hand I led her to a seat by the side of the table and took another in front of her, and while I still held her hand in mine, said: " I thank you, Miss Laura, for your kind welcome. I have long looked forward to this meeting with an anxiety inde- scribable, and I am yet so bewildered that I can hardly realize that I am at last with you, though I recognize every feature as 50 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. long, long familiar." These were the first words that ever passed between us. Oh, who can tell what will be the last, though well we know that those last must come. If there be more of sorrow in them, they may be happy, too ! I took no heed of how she was dressed ; I only saw her pale and agitated face and heaving bosom, which seemed as if it must burst all bonds But presently the blood returned, and her face was now as flushed as it had been colorless before. For myself, I know my agitation was not less than hers, and I am confident it was equally manifest. There was in our looks a language even more intelligible than our words. We could not guard those expressions by any restraints which conven- tionalities required us to place upon our words. I could read in the expression of her face, as plainly as any language could have told me, that she was pleased was satisfied with my personal appearance; indeed, that I was acceptable. To me she looked that matchless beauty vvhich had first so im- pressed so enslaved me. There was playing all over her countenance that indescribable charm, that halo of fascination, which I never had and never have seen at all imitated in any other human being. The memory of this it was which had so long hovered around me, whether asleep or awake ; which had so much stimulated me to earn success and be worthy of her; which had strengthened me in sickness and comforted me in health; which had soothed my pains and anguish when they had oppressed me, and had so much heightened my enjoy- ments always ; and, finally, which had utterly blinded me to the fascinations and charms of other women, till it almost seemed that I had become indifferent to female society. If I A Happy Two Hours. 51 had carefully criticised others, it was only to compare them with her, and whatever I said or did in their presence the inquiry would constantly arise, What would she think would she approve or disapprove? And as I thought her answer would be, so was my conduct regulated yes, I can truly say, so it was regulated. Her form, too, was that same model of perfection which it had always appeared to me. And so she sat before me now, the personification of that ideal of perfect beauty which, perhaps, all men at some time or other picture to themselves in their imaginations ; and happy is he who finds as perfect a realization of his fancy sketch as I did. A HAPPY TWO HOURS. For a time I think we said but little in words, but by our looks declared our. secret thoughts. At length, however, we learned to talk together. If I were inclined to do so, I could not tell what we said. I well remember, however, that we did not talk about the weather. Although it was a warm July day, that was too cold a subject to occupy a single thought. After a while we found ourselves walking the room, with her arm through mine and our hands locked together; and then I remember we were seated together on the sofa, with her head leaning on my shoulder, when I stole my first kiss ! O ! who shall describe the first kiss of such love as mine ? I have no power to do it. I remember I now found language to express my love, and how it had grown from the beginning till now it so entirely possessed me, and assure her how assiduously I would devote my life to her happiness if she would but intrust it to my keeping. Have I not kept that promise ? Have I 52 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. ever betrayed the affection which I felt assured was there given me, although she spoke no word at the time declaring that my love was reciprocated ; yet her looks and her action gave me all the assurance I had a right to expect then yes, and all I asked. I was supremely happy. The confiding manner in which she rested her head on my shoulder; the kindly way in which she received my kiss ; the apparent satisfaction with which she listened to the story of my love ; the earnest happi- ness which beamed upon her face all, all, were realizations of what my imagination had so often pictured. Yes, I was supremely happy ! And so passed the happiest two hours of my life. Happy as I have been since, never have I been, never could I be, more completely intoxicated with bliss. I was incapable of enjoying a greater measure of happiness than I then experienced. Even yet its memory seems like a pleasing dream of joy realized in another world. Such hap- piness so works upon the human organism that, like intense pain, it could not be long endured without some relief some diversion. Time had glided by with so little notice that the old family clock that stood in one corner of the dining-room, on the opposite side of the hall, told the hour of twelve in tones that might have wakened the seven sleepers, and served to arouse us from our dream of love, and made us realize that there were others in the world beside ourselves. I hurried back to sublunary considerations, and remembered that others had a right to know me beside the sweet girl by my side. As they had early dinners in those days in country villages, I remem- bered that I must meet the family at the table soon, and it was / Meet the Family. 53 time that I should inquire for others. As yet not a word had been said about a living soul but ourselves. We had thought of no one else. We had been all in all to each other. I now inquired for her father and mother, and her sister Julia in par- ticular, and the other members of the family generally ; for in truth I was as yet ignorant of the number and most of the names of her brothers and sisters. She assured me that her mother was much better, and able to move about the house to some extent, and also that Mrs. Cadweli was at home. I was much pleased to learn this, for I felt that in her I had a friend near by. I MEET THE FAMILY. It was now arranged that she should go and bring in the family for an introduction. Before she did so she went to the glass, arranged her hair, which somehow or other had become a little disordered, rearranged the lace cape which covered her neck, and even smoothed out some wrinkles which were observed in her dress, especially in the sleeves. No one can imagine how it pleased me to see her perform these little acts in my presence. It seemed to bespeak a confidence in me already which was inexpressibly gratifying. I now for the first time noticed how she was dressed. Before that I could not have told a single article she wore. I could have only said that she was well dressed. I now saw she wore a light muslin dress, interspersed with gay small figures, with great mutton-leg sleeves, which was then the height of the fashion, and low in the neck, which fashion also then required ; while around her neck and shoulders was a rich lace cape. She 54 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. wore no jewelry, except a plain neat pin at the bosom. I thought her costume exceedingly tasteful, and that it became her admirably. A little patch of court -plaster on one side of her broad high forehead I thought added to her beauty, and, suspected it was put there as an ornament ; but I afterwards learned that a bee had come and stung her there that morning, which was rather an unpleasant accident under the circum- stances, and had involved the necessity of a terre-poultice, which had only been removed a short time before my arrival. When I heard this explanation I expressed some envy as well as jealousy of that bee. While waiting for the appearance of the family is a good time to indulge in a quiet speculation as to how things were going on in other parts of the house during the two hours we were so quiet and so happy. Here was a large family of young ladies, besides several outsiders who, somehow, hap- pened in. Now, there was a young fellow a perfect stranger whom no one knew how he looked except Mrs. Cadwell, who had not seen him for three years, and the servant girl who opened the door for him, and who was so flurried that she could not tell whether he was white or black, or whether he wore a beard or a smooth face alone in the parlor with a young lady the flower of the family, as I may be allowed to say, who practically had never seen him before, and there they had been since ten o'clock, and not a word or a breath had been heard from them more than as if it had been the house of the dead. I had been seen by some of the neighbor- ing girls to go into the house, and the situation being violently suspected, it was absolutely necessary that they should step / Meet the Family. 55 round, in a most familiar way, ir.to the back part of the house, to hear what they could and to join in the speculations. Now, what these speculations were I suppose will never be known ; but we may, without great hazard, presume that they were varied and interesting. No doubt some imagined that we protracted our privacy much longer than was necessary ; but they would change their minds if ever placed in the same situation. Others, we may assume, thought we might, with great propriety, give some signs of life, and that there might even be some danger that we had died in the excitement. But their fears did not quite force them to come and see whether it were so or not ; and I will now assure all anxious inquirers that few lives are lost in that way. I venture to say that none were more anxious than that father and mother to whom the happi- ness of their daughter was so dear; and they were the first whom Miss Laura brought in. Of course they had already learned from her that she was well pleased with me, and it was therefore evident that */ would make a match. So they received me very kindly and cordially. Mr. Sherrill was a large, portly man, of few words, but a great mass of brains, of a strong and excellent quality, kind-hearted and affectionate. Mrs. Sherrill was a woman a little past fifty, frail and delicate even ordinarily, but now weak and emaciated from long illness. She was by nature a lady and by culture, too. She was refined, sensitive, -and sensible always, with talents far beyond the ordinary run of women, but without the least possible display or even manifestation of her own appreciation of them. She received me in so mild and easy a way that I could not but at once feel quite at ease. 56 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. Very soon, Miss Julia, the eldest of the sisters, a very fine looking young lady and highly accomplished, came in and was introduced, and from her I received a very cordial greet- ing. About the same time came Mrs. Cadwell, who seemed glad to see me, and by an arch smile appeared to say, "Young man, circumstances are changed since we last met." At least, I was happy to believe that such was her meaning. Next came Harriet and Emily. The first of these, who was next younger than Laura, was the least demonstrative of the sisters, yet none possessed a higher appreciation of genuine wit, which she enjoyed in her own quiet way quite as much as those who are more expressive in their manifestations. Her goodness of heart was exhibited in every word and action, and I have every reason to remember the kindness she has ever shown me from that moment to this with the most lively gratitude. Miss Emily came next in chronological order, and was the one I had seen in the garden two hours before ; but I then saw too little of her to enable me to recognize her. She smilingly said she had seen me as I was coming up the walk, and suspected who I was, as she believed she had heard of me before. As I had received no catalogue of the family, I began to think there was no end of pretty girls, nor was this opinion in the least weakened when a young miss came in and was introduced as sister Caroline. This, thought I, must surely be the baby; but even here again I was mistaken, for directly Miss Laura came leading in her little brother and introduced me to James, who seemed half scared out of his wits at meeting a stranger from so far away, and about whom they were making such a fuss, and I fancy, also, that he began to have some sus- / Meet the Family. 57 picion that there might be danger of losing his sister by meansxjf this same stranger. At any rate, he did not appear very much pleased to make my acquaintance, and probably- wished me further away than I wished myself, for in truth I was very well contented where I was. James was the last to come, but I learned that an elder brother, Henry, was away at school, so I must be satisfied with meeting a part of the family only ; but in sooth, I thought those I saw before me would do pretty well for a beginning that they would serve for a very respectable addition to my relations. They nearly filled the room, almost as if I were holding a levee. All the girls were sprightly, talking and laughing, and the little gathering became lively and pleasant. The neighboring//-/V, except Miss Dean, who was my cousin. It was a very con- siderate way to let me kiss my own without marking the circumstance. As I took her hand I slipped into it the little golden key, which was the pin she had always seen in the bosom of my shirt, and when she saw what it was and observed that it was missing from its former place, she comprehended the token. I intended that she should understand that now she held the key to all my confidence, all my love, and to all my treasure. So she understood it, and so has she ever held it, and to no truer, no more faithful, or more devoted hand was key ever intrusted. THE TOILETS OF THE BRIDESMAIDS AND OF THE BRIDE. Now I suppose it will be expected that I shall describe how the bridesmaids and the bride were dressed, and this may be The Toilets of the Bridesmaids and of the Bride. 147 but reasonable, especially since I have inserted so many other things of far less interest, to most young people at least. Yet I am the least qualified for this of any task which could possibly be assigned me. I was never a close observer of a lady's costume, and rarer still have I studied it in detail, if indeed I ever did. Most of all was I then least likely to make such note. I knew well enough the general effect was pleasing, but whether it was the blue, white or green that pleased me, I never stopped to question ; I doubt if the next morning I could have told of what color was the bridal dress, or what was worn by the bridesmaids. They were all beautiful girls, and I knew they were beautifully arrayed. There was a harmony through- out, which, like the harmony of music, soothes and pleases the senses as a whole, while the separate notes which compose the tune, if taken singly, might not please so much. So it often is with female beauty, and so also with a lady's dress. On this point, therefore, I do not speak from my own memory so much as from information more reliable. Miss Dean and Miss Emily Sherrill were the bridesmaids ; both were handsome girls, and blondes the former the lightest of the two. She was tall as the bride herself, but more slender. She had dimpled cheeks and chin (so had the bride), and also, like the bride, her front teeth were rather short, as white as pearls, and slightly separated from each other, and a little serrated. Her eyes were light blue, her skin almost as white as snow, and her hair like a great skein of silk so soft and delicate was it, and scarcely darker than a light drab. The other, sister Emily for she must allow me that name was shorter, yet not below the common height ; not so slender as Miss Dean, yet not too full 148 Our Coiirtship and Our Marriage. of form. Her cheeks were red, her skin was fair, her eyes were grayish blue, her hair was light brown, and the expres- sion of her face was very pleasing. If there was a contrast between the two, there was still a harmony which made the same style of dress and ornament equally becoming, and so both were dressed alike. Both wore white Swiss mull dresses, with blue satin trimmings and white flowers, not so long as have since been worn, for they trailed the ground scarcely half a yard at most. They were low in the neck, with short sleeves. Both wore the hair in ringlets, flowing over the shoulders and down the back, while flowers fastened back the curls. The bride was dressed in a low-necked, short-sleeved rich silk,, no longer in the skirt than the others, nor fuller, but all were rather full. Over this was a rich lace dress with open flowing sleeves, very richly trimmed with white satin and rich lace edging with broad linen lace around the bottom of the skirt. Her hair was dressed partly in curls, fastened back and flowing down the neck, and partly in loose open braids, confined with a peculiar ornament of white flowers, most beautifully becoming. All wore white kid shoes, and long white kid gloves. None of the party wore costly jewelry, but perhaps some simple ornament, if anything of the kind. Now I know this is a very tame description of the costume of a bridal party, which was really beautiful and most becom- ing, and elicited many expressions of admiration, but I am no Jenkins and can do nothing creditably in that way, probably because I so rarely analyze a dress, but content myself with its general effect. The Marriage. 149 THE MARRIAGE. Miss Julia kept up a constant sparkle of her wit, which kept all lively and in good spirits while waiting to be summoned to the parlor. We had not long to wait, for soon it was announced that all was ready. Preceded by an usher, Mr. Babcock and Miss Dean led the way, followed by Mr. Hadley and Miss Emily ; we entered next, the right hand of the bride resting on my left arm. The other ladies followed. The parlor was full, but a way was opened for us, and a space cleared in front of the sofa, where in another instant we found our- selves standing before the man of God, who had come to do his office. For a single instant all was still as death. I improved this time to take a short survey of that sea of faces, all intently gazing at us. The father and mother and the rest of the family of the bride stood immediately in front of us and just behind the parson. They looked anxious, as was unavoidable, but no emotion sufficient to attract attention was observable. I had not long to look, for soon his hands were raised and the officiating clergyman invoked a blessing long enough to give us an abundance of time to compose ourselves. After this he proceeded with the ceremony in all the formalities he had been able to study up for the last ten days. At last, and I thought it would never come the kids were removed and our hands were joined, and then at last we were pronounced " MAN AND WIFE Whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder!" These were solemn words, solemnly pronounced, and solemnly received. If I felt any new sensation at this moment as extra- 150 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. ordinary as I had expected, I can not now remember it. I did reflect that the great deed was done ; that we were now indis- solubly one, beyond the reach of accident ; that we were not the strangers now that we had been but a single minute before, but a unity of interest, a unity of sympathy, a unity of confi- dence, had by that solemn ceremony been established. I loved her no more fondly, and I would die for her no quicker now than then, for I loved her all that I was capable of loving, and was ready to risk my life for her at any moment, just as freely as I ever could. I had felt before that I was truly married to her in soul, and. that this ceremony had done for us personally what had been already done in a more ethereal sense. Still I could look upon her now as mine, all mine, as I never could before. The hand I held in mine was now my hand. Though before, she had often said it was, yet I knew it was not mine till now. I knew she had only said it in a figurative sense, or as a sort of promise now it was really, truly so, and I was sure I knew how absolutely it now was mine, how freely and entirely it had been given me. As for a single instant I looked upon her face, I thought I saw the confidence of love unreserved now, which before was checked and hampered, as it was right and proper that it should^be. That face now was mine, she all was mine, and I was hers, and happy above all things that I now could devote my life with all its energies to promote her welfare, her honor and her greatest good. All this was but a flash of thought, taking no more time than the parson took to make his pause after his great effort. No\v, I thought, all was over; that the man had earned his money, and would let us go which was, by this time, becom- The Marriage. 151 ing very essential to my comfort. As I said before, my shoes were a size too small, and they had been cramping my feet for nearly an hour, till now my agony had almost reached the culminating point. Indeed, it was so great, that I did not know but I should have the lock-jaw, though I felt if no such uncontrollable calamity should intervene, I could put on an appearance of contentment, no matter how great the pain. I had borne up bravely through all this tedious form, till the solemn words I have quoted were pronounced, thinking that there would be the end, when I could move about at least, or soon be seated, and thus find some relief, till the promiscuous intermingling of the assemblage would allow me to whisper a word of explanation to my wife, and slip away and get something on more comfortable. What horror seized me then ! what then was my despair, when I saw the reverend father square himself away for a regular lecture, which no doubt had been long the subject of his study! First, he told us what a solemn thing we had just done, almost as if we had done something wrong, and to be repented of. Then he enlarged upon the duties we owed each other now buch as can only exist where this holy estate has been estab- lished and, especially, how we might now, nay, we should, indeed, love each other just as if it had been wrong for us to love before. After he had gone over all this in good set terms, I thought surely he must close. But no ! after a long pause, and a wise look around the room as much as to say, now listen all he struck out for the West, and reminded every- body that I was going to take my bride away to a barbarous to a heathen land all the disadvantages of which he painted r 52 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. in exaggerated colors as if the horrible was his peculiar forte and even intimated that it was an awful thing to think of doing so ; although, really, he meant it all in kindness, and even in praise of our resolution. But I was not in a humor to put the best construction on what he said, and as I saw him "swinging round the circle" of all these great prairies while my agony was all the time increasing I confess I allowed myself to get provoked ridiculous as it may seem, and laughable at what now appeared to me as nothing but rant and cant. I understood but little of what he said; but could I remember every word, I have stated as much of it as is deserved. Well, as all things must have an end, so, at last, did his sermon, and finally he pronounced the job completed, with a benediction, in keeping with all the rest. Then came congratulations of family and friends, in usual form, except that little Jimmy did not appear with the rest. He had slipped away unnoticed. Poor boy ! Laura had been a favorite sister. During early childhood his mother had seen much sickness, and Laura had taken upon herself his care to a con- siderable extent his older sisters being away to school and he did not hesitate to declare his preference to sleep with her to any of the others. At length some one found him out and brought him to kiss her, but the poor fellow was crying as if his heart would break. Till he had actually seen her married, he had not fully realized that she was going away, and he was going to lose her. This little incident affected his sister more than any thing else that had occurred, and I then first assumed the office of comforter. Soon the impression of that little occurrence passed by, and it was not long before the formali- The Marriage. 153 ties of the party were broken up, when I made the necessary explanation to the bride, and slipped away to the chamber and got on my boots again. The company was joyous and the evening was a pleasant one. The assemblage was quite as large as the house would well accommodate, and, as was perhaps very natural, we several times got separated, and, I confess when this did occur, I missed her, and was not long in making search among the gay throng for my new made wife. Once we met in a small hall, where we were quite alone. Then both our hands met and "My dear," said I, " I was looking for you; where have you been so long?" "I have been searching for you!" she replied. " Where have you kept yourself?" With her arm in mine we made our way back among the moving mass of people. The evening passed as usual on such occasions. The older members of the party dropped off early and left more room for the younger. There had been a fine shower in the forenoon, which had cooled the atmosphere, freshened and awakened the vegetation, which poured forth its balmy fragrance till in the evening the air was loaded with the rich perfume. The night was bright and deliciously cool outside, and many were strolling in the flower garden, through the grounds and among the shrubbery. How many talked of love in a qyjiet way, I have no means of knowing; but many couples seemed inclined to converse apart, and such occasions tend to lead conversation into that channel and make young people whisper low their thoughts, with a gentle pressure of the hand, more suggestive than words themselves. The chirping of the cricket among the climbing vines, the low soft hum of other 154 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. insects that love the night to sing their sweet melodies, the bark of a distant dog, or the lowing of the herd beyond the meadows in the outskirts of the country village, presented a rural scene, which has a charm unknown to city life, which awakens in the human heart a pleasing harmony of thought, which makes men and women love each other, in a purer sense, than where nature with her hallowing influence is banished far away, and all around only speaks of the handi- work of fallen man. This evening I made njany new acquaint- ances among both young and old, and found hardly a moment to be alone with any one, and least of all with her with whom I so much longed to be. The crowd at last grew thinner, and before one o'clock all had gone who were going ; Miss Dean and several other ladies were to remain all night. Mr. and Mrs. Sherrill had long since disappeared. Then Julia came and took my arm and said she wanted me, and asked the rest to follow. She led the way to the great kitchen, which was large enough for a common parlor, and had a great old-fashioned fire-place, almost as large as those I had often seen in the frontier cabins. This was my first introduction to that mysterious realm where reigns the cook with despotic sway. In the midst stood the kitchen table, loaded to profusion with all the goodies that could be thought of, and there stood Biddy more pleased than scared, for I was the only stranger to her, and me she had no doubt often seen by peeking through the cracks. There, too, stood Jimmy Rusk, an old household servant, who had seen them all grow up from childhood. He was as much at home as if he owned it all, and so did he continue when the old The Marriage. 155 homestead had passed into the children's hands, who still pro- tected him with a tender care till he no longer wanted an earthly home. No one ever knew whence he came or how, or anything of his previous history. Of these he never uttered a single word, and so the mystery died with him. Evidently, in old Ireland, he had seen better days, and moved in circles far above the place he chose to occupy. His wardrobe when he first came was of the finest, and he knew not how to perform any kind of labor.* He concealed as far as possible that he was well educated, though in spite of all his caution this fact soon became apparent. He was mild and gentle in all his ways, and never would converse with any one, except with little Jimmy when a child, of whom he was very fond and petted with great tenderness. With him he would indulge in childish talk, but as he grew up all this ceased, and he became as silent to him as all the rest. He assumed nothing, but chose a servant's place, always careful and industrious ; though he never pretended to do a day's work like the laboring men upon the farm, he was always busy about the house and barn and waiting upon any who required his services, answering any question kindly and respectfully, but in the shortest way, and rarely asking one. There was that about him which so inspired respect that every member of the family, from Mr. Sherrill down to the lowest servant, always addressed him as Mr. Rusk. Although in my walks about the grounds I had often seen him, he always avoided me, so that I never could address him, and yet his demeanor indicated rather diffidence than a desire to avoid me from any other cause ; still there must have been some other most cogent reason which he ever 156 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. studiously concealed. That he was born and educated a gentle- man was evident, and yet he voluntarily and persistently, when in the prime of life, chose a servant's place and would be nothing else. He manifested no disposition to intemperance, or any other vice. He veiy rarely left the place, and for ten years he never passed the bounds of the little village. Once, at the end of about that time, he arose early in the morning, dressed himself with scrupulous care and went to Utica, four miles distant, without a word of explanation, but before evening he returned. It was believed that he went to meet some appointment, but this was only a suspicion. He volun- teered no explanation and no one chose to question him. This was the only time he went so far from home during all the time he lived there. If he remained in the kitchen voluntarily that night, as I think he did, to meet me, it was exceptional in his conduct. Ever after when I met him he greeted me most kindly, but in the fewest words. MRS. CATON introduced her husband to Mr. Rusk and the cook ; she shook my hand as if she had been an old friend. He took it respectfully but timidly, and courteously wished me joy, and then gracefully said some words of warm com- mendation of the bride, which she highly appreciated. We then took seats around the table, and to me it was right welcome, as I had tasted nothing since dinner but a little cake, as a matter of the sheerest form, which left an appetite such as youth and strength are apt to have, and which even the scenes of that night could not satisfy or banish. We all ate heartily, or at least I did. I thought there was too much disposition to linger around the board when all seemed satisfied, but I The Serenade. 157 assumed the appearance of contentment, well knowing that the old family clock would not stop more than time itself, and so our little meeting must have its end at last. Fin.olly, Julia led the way to the dining-room, perhaps because that same old clock stood there, and all must see how late it was. There we all followed and tried to chat a while in a familiar way. I was now the only gentleman of the party among that crowd of ladies. These kept going out and coming in as if they were very busy. At length I noticed some did not return, and so gradually the party grew less and less till it consisted only of myself and wife. THE SERENADE. About two o'clock perhaps, or later, in the morning, when sleeping so profoundly that I had lost all consciousness of where I was, my wife awakened me to listen to strains of music from the lawn beneath the window so soft and sweet that they might have come from an houri's bower ; and in a bewildered state, before I was quite awake, I half believed I was in some enchanted place, and when I saw who awakened me, the illusion seemed confirmation, and I must acknowledge that for a single instant I felt scared, but a moment after I realized where I was and why. Then the momentary trepi- dation vanished, and I was very well content and listened to the music, and we admired it there together. That was a charming serenade, and we felt duly grateful for the courteous compliment paid us by the bride's long-familiar friends and associates. Some tunes were gay and lively, some were slow and staid. She knew each voice, and could tell in whose hand each instrument was held. 158 Our Courtship ainf Our Marriage. The last tune they played, the last song they sang, was " Home, Sweet Home," a reminder I would gladly have dis- pensed with then ; for I feared its associations might bring a shade of sadness to a breast whose every impulse, whether of sorrow or of joy, must thenceforth be reflected in a ten-fold degree directly on my own. She evidently anticipated my fears, and wisely spoke of her new home, where she would be happy, with me, hardly mentioning the old, and softly laid her head upon my shoulder so confidingly that all fear that she would even for a single moment allow a shade of regret to come and mingle with her happiness, took flight at once and left me gladder than before. Surely any music might have sounded sweetly then. Neither of us thought it necessary to disturb ourselves, and get up and move the blinds of the open window in recognition of their kind attention. At last they quietly departed, without knowing certainly that we were still alive. When we are young and need the fostering care of friends, acts of kindness and attention make a much stronger impres- sion on our minds than when we are older and feel less dependent. It is sweet now, yes, it is very sweet, to remem- ber every act of kindness, every manifestation of good will, which I then received from any one, as well as to remember the many other sources of the extreme happiness which I then enjoyed, with a vividness, as I do, which shows how strong the impression then made was. MEMORY. Memory is an endowment of the immaterial, unseen, Memory. 1 59 intangible part of our being which subordinates and controls the material or outer part, and which, by the aid of faith, inspired by an impulse a sensibility which seems to be ingrained into every grade of the human family and consti- tutes a part of our very being, we believe and think we know must be immortal. Without memory the mind itself would be a useless wreck, far below that which the brutes possess. By it alone are we enabled to reason to compare one thing with another, and so draw conclusions of what may come to pass, which is the secret of all human progress. By it we store up facts and bring them forth at will, to be utilized, and so has man been elevated from the lowest state to that high position he now occupies in the great family of created things, and so may he continue to rise higher and higher, if not in the scale of being, still in the scale of advancement, to a point of which we can not now conceive. While the stature of his body may conform forever to a given standard, the measure of his mental growth may be almost illimitable, as well in the individual after he lays down mortality as in the successive generations of the human family here. But besides this utilitarian view of the faculty of memory, it augments our happiness and multiplies our pleasures and our joys; for by its aid they are many times repeated. How tame and tasteless would be each pleasure were it to die the moment it is tasted and leave no record that we had once been so happy ! Memory is the great volume of human life, in which is recorded all its acts and incidents, which we may peruse and re-peruse, and keep all fresh before us, or we may neglect it 160 Our Courts hip and Our Marriage. till it is hard to find a single passage in it to tell us of the past. If there are many records there we gladly would forget because they cause us pain, we may perhaps "forget them, unless they tell of faults which should be punished, that reformation may succeed. In the memory is secreted that worm that never dieth, whose gnawings shall never cease while sin remains for it to feed upon. The memory of a well-spent life is fragrant with the incense arising from the gums and spices which we have piled upon the altar of our loves, which have prompted us to do good acts, and as we inhale the odor ever after, we feel that we are still worshiping at that altar whose fires we hope may never be extinct. How often, by the aid of memory, do we live over again our lives, and enjoy with a new relish, ever fresh and green, the joys we knew in earlier life; and so are they oft repeated. Who would forget his former happiness? Who would blot from the book of his remembrance the record of the good he is conscious he has done ? The retrospect of a well-spent life is to the liver like that life repeated as we appreciate, when the remembrance of former happiness comes and makes us again happy as before. How sensibly do I appreciate that this is true, as in this retrospect the past comes up before me, and I feel transported back to the time of which I write, when all my soul was full of joy unspeakable, feeling a deep conviction that my acts and thoughts and all that I enjoyed were right and proper in the highest sense, and that God, from His high place in heaven, looked benignly on us His approval. The Morning After. 161 THE MORNING AFTER. The next morning we must be astir betimes, and so we were, for the carriage was ordered for nine o'clock, to take us to Commencement, as had been arranged before. It was again a beautiful morning, and to me all seemed lovely. Before we left our room together, I gave my wife the keys to my trunks, under the pretense that she might wish to pack some things in them, though, in truth, there was not much space to spare. I wished to give her some new evidence of my confidence, and could think of nothing better at the moment. We met the family cheerfully and happily, and had a merry breakfast all together. But little time was found for packing and getting ready for our long journey, for to dress for the excursion was all that could be expected of the ladies till the carriage came. When assembled for the start, I thought the bride looked more beautiful, if possible, in her excursion dress than she had even the night before. An apple-green silk, fitted to absolute perfection ; a French em- broidered pelerine cape which was then in high favor on such occasions close-laced boots, and a love of a white hat which was declared by all the ladies to be perfection a wreath of white flowers, attached to one side, spanned the crown, and hung pendant down the other, nearly to the shoulder, set off the outfit in a most charming way. We all admired the dress combined, as well as her who wore it. I found the ladies much more free to talk with me about it than they would have been the day before. They seemed to tacitly admit that I had then a right to know something about 1 62 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. a lady's dress. So much already, thought I, for the situation. I had a quiet moment to declare my admiration to her who wore that lovely hat, which she received as if pleased to hear me thus express myself. She had that happy look of content- ment which must ever be so gratifying to one in my position She saw, too, that I was extremely happy, and this seemed the source of her greatest joy, and so has it been ever since. If she could but see that I was happy, her own was then secure. But a word and a look were all that time allowed till we were called away to the carriage. COMMENCEMENT. If it would have been pleasanter to both to have staid at home together, the thought even could not be breathed to others. But I confess it did seem to me they might have let us had the carriage to ourselves, at least. But no ! So poor were they at making excuses, that the first invitation I gave though they might have known that it was the merest form was accepted at once, and we found our- selves packed in with two others, where, in truth, there was only room for two. I thought they should have appre- ciated how much, we should have enjoyed the ride could we have had the carriage to ourselves. The morning after their own marriages, if they thought of it, they understood that more than two were too many for one carriage. But there was no help for it, so we seated ourselves as best we could, and drove away at a rapid rate towards Clinton, followed by several other carriages, with the others of the party. All nature smiled around us, and I was in a frame of mind to The Contrast. 163 enjoy her smiles, although I should have been better pleased to have had no others with us. When we arrived at the old church, which occupied the middle of the Green, around which the village was built, we "found it quite full, though the exer- cises had not commenced, and we were well satisfied to get seats for the ladies, and standing room for ourselves in the aisle near by them. When we entered, all seemed to appre- ciate that it was a bridal party, and had no trouble to recognize the bride and groom. Indeed, the bride had a very large circle of acquaintances in that town, who had heard of the event and expected her appearance, and a number of whom had been at the wedding the night before. She had for a year or two attended a young ladies' seminary there, and being but five miles from her residence, of course the ac- quaintance had been kept up by the interchange of calls and visits. It may be remembered that it was while she was attending that school, and in the streets of that same town, that I had first seen Miss Laura, and received a passing intro- duction to her on the walk, and that by that single glance I had received the wound which had never healed before, and never could have been healed except by the events of the pre- ceding evening. THE CONTRAST. I do not believe that I was much interested in, or took much notice of, the exercises of the day. They had no great interest for me then ; although I had often attended similar exercises there in years before, and always with deep interest, for they told me of the advantages of a regular education, which I 164 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. could not get, as those had whom I then saw graduating, and for the want of which I must work all the harder. I now felt their equal at the least, and that I had got such a start that with proper industry I could maintain my ground. It was natural that the past should come up before me. In that same neighborhood, I had worked on a farm at five dollars per month. And in that same church, in my homespun dress, I had almost hid myself away to witness just such exercises, but no one knew that in the bosom of the rustic lad who remained unnoticed there was a work going on which should bear its fruits in after years. No one observed the clenched hand and the compressed lip, and the sparkling eye which could have testified to the workings of a fixed determination from which, with a young ambition, were evolved resolves which should place him above his fortune and as the peer of those who stood before him and then acted their parts upon the stage to the admiration of those present. Might I not look back on this, and then with a sense of secret satisfaction see where now I stood and how my future looked, and draw the contrast, and know that I myself had done it almost all. At the moments of such thoughts as these, I looked upon the fair face of my beloved bride, who returned the quiet glance, as if she too felt proud of the choice she had made. I would not ask even of myself it would have been unfair, ungenerous, if not cruel, to have asked what she, a blooming little miss, admired, flattered and petted (but not spoiled) as she had ever been, would have thought at that former time, had that uncouth youth in such plain, though tidy clothes, spun, woven and made up by his own dear mother, who loved him then as well as ever after, The Contrast. 165 been pointed out as her future husband. If at the same time his future could have been also told her, she might have accepted the prophecy with complacency, but no one then, at least, would have ever thought thus to prophesy, or that she should be his wife, but I am ready to aver, without a single doubt, that had I chanced to see her then I should have resolved to marry her, as I did when first I saw her, however hopeless to others might have seemed the undertaking. This brought me back to the time when I did first meet her as I have related, and of the purpose then resolved, and to follow down the events of the last four years, till now my wish, my hope, my prayer, my firm determination, were consummated, and I looked before me and saw the object of such a love as mine, my own. Now, indeed, had fruition come and taken the place of that bright anticipation, which had warmed and comforted me so long, and stayed my hands and kept my feet from slipping in the path I had been obliged to tread, and which I had already learned to love to travel. In this pres- ence I may be allowed to tell that a feeling of self-gratulation came up which I did not even try to suppress. It was very sweet and I feasted on it. If similar reflections were several times awakened by old associations, which told me of what I was, and how I thought when I first resolved to raise myself to a higher scale of usefulness, I must repeat them to make you comprehend the chain of thought which then possessed me, and to give you glimpses of my former history, which I have probably omitted in another place. Thus, too, I hope to make the lesson, which is the great object of this writing, more impres- 1 66 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. sive, and I trust more profitable. I do not propose to write a systematic treatise on any one or more subjects, but a personal narrative, interspersed with such suggestions as may occur to me as I go along, and which I may hope will be instructive to you. So far as my own success in life may be suggestive, I may here remark that mine is not an isolated case, but one of a class met with all over the country, which embraces within it very many of the most prominent and useful men, who attract the attention and command the respect of mankind. While isolated cases of this class of men are to be met with in the history of other lands, our institutions seem to foster and encourage them more than others, and so they are much more numerous here than where a different form of government prevails. Those same elements of character which have enabled them to succeed, tend to make them a little vain of their success, and so very few are ashamed to acknowledge their former low estate, which in other countries would be by many looked upon as a stigma. At last when I had ruminated long upon such thoughts as above related, I looked around me and directly at my side I saw the Misses Case, two very pretty and very worthy young ladies, daughters of Dr. Case, of Vernon. They had treated me with marked politeness during the winter I had been studying there with Mr. Collins. I was delighted to meet them, and all the more so that I knew they must admire my wife. They had heard of my return and of the object of my visit, and so congratulated me most cordially, and expressed in unmeasured terms their admiration of my choice. This My Mothers Farewell. 167 pleased me O ! how much, for I felt much more covetous for admiration of her than of myself. I knew, too, that every- body else who saw her must think the same. This was all wonderfully pleasant to me. All I saw who knew me spoke to me very kindly, and so did those to whom I was introduced by Mrs. Caton or her sisters. She had hosts of friends there, who overwhelmed her with attentions, and some with their sympathies that she was going away so far. She did not covet their sympathy, for she thought it quite misplaced, but received their kind wishes with becoming gratitude. MY MOTHER'S FAREWELL. We reached home perhaps soon after one o'clock and dined; and then, as soon as practicable, with Miss Julia, again took the carriage, and proceeded to Utica to visit and bid fare- well to my mother. We found her waiting for us, her little granddaughter, as usual, with her. Of course, the meeting be- tween the mother and daughter-in-law was cordial all I could have wished. My mother had been long taught to love her, and she did so most sincerely; but I had no doubt she would have much preferred a plain Quaker bonnet to the chaste and beautiful, but, as I presume my mother thought the too gor- geous, hat which adorned her head. Still it was all a perfect white, though the form and fashion might have betrayed more of show than utility, and especially she may have thought there was more of the trimmings than was necessary. What- ever she may have thought, there was not the least expression of the kind manifested. She assured her that she was greatly gratified that I had found a wife whom I loved so much as she 1 68 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. knew I did her, and whom she believed so worthy of all my love; and she did not hesitate to assure her that she would always find me a true and faithful husband, always influenced by the most honorable motives, and that I would ever endeavor to make her happy; that she had always tried to so bring me up and instill into my mind such lessons as would tend to make me a good companion for some one, and that she believed that I had always heeded her advice; that I had always been a good son to her, which she considered a guarantee that I would make a good husband. And much more she said to the same purport. She gave us much good advice as to how to conduct ourselves towards each other. This seemed to be the only theme that interested her or she thought worthy of her atten- tion during our visit. Julia expressed her regret that my mother had not been able to visit them before the wedding, and gave her a cordial invitation to do so as soon as possible, and to stay as long as she could make it convenient and pleasant to herself, assuring my mother that her parents were very anxious to make her acquaintance. My mother promised to visit there as soon as she could ; and I was very happy to learn, some time after, that she had spent some days at New Hartford, and that our mothers became very intimate and con- fidential, as I knew must be the case so soon as they should meet. It would be really interesting to know if, during the whole time they were together, they ever talked of anything but us. Till I had children of my own to feel solicitous about, I did not dream how much more interesting than all others must have been the discussion of our happiness, our interests and our welfare. Our parting was characterized by a due Another Farewell A Hard Parting. 169 composure, for my mother was as firm as a mountain when- ever she chose to be ; but it was a hard inward struggle for us both. THE SECOND EVENING. It was dusk before we reached New Hartford. As we were to start for our home in the West at eight o'clock the next morning, of "course it was a busy evening to get the last things ready. As for myself, of course I was ready, and there were many willing hands to do what must be done for Laura. While I lay on the sofa in the parlor quite alone, and thinking that surely she might be spared a few minutes to keep me company, Emily came in and sidled up to me, and said my room was ready. I pretended to have overlooked how late it was, though in truth it was scarce past nine o'clock. As the girl had gone away as soon as she had delivered her message, I did not think it worth while to stay there long alone, and so retired. The next morning it seemed to me that the house was all astir much earlier than necessity required ; but it would not do for us to be behind, and so we started, too. Then traveling suits had to be put on, the last of all our goods packed away, the trunks well strapped down, and all piled upon the front porch ; then breakfast was announced. ANOTHER FAREWELL A HARD PARTING. Dr. Cadwell, who then resided in Auburn, had come down to attend the wedding, and was to return with us and take along Mrs. Cadwell. I had accordingly taken seats for them in an extra stage, which I had ordered, with the arrangement 170 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. that we could lay over nights ; for I did not want to make the first of a long journey too hard. Prompt to the time, the stage drove up; but not before we were ready. Still there must be a few minutes of bustle and activity in getting on the baggage, and then in bidding adieu. It was a hard parting, but I can not dwell upon it. I had expressed the hope that in a year or two we might return and visit them. That was the most I dared to promise. Our good mother stopped us both together near the door, threw her arms about our necks and kissed us fervently, and said the single words, "Love each other! " and released us. I now know how it wrung her heart to part with her dear child, with all the uncertainty of the future, but I could not realize it then. My darling took my arm, when the last farewell was said, and we hastened to the coach. WE START OUR TRAVELING COMPANIONS. There we found two sisters and a brother, old enough to have been married fifteen years before, but still in single bless- edness, as they no doubt thought. As we had a large coach, with seats for nine, we could not complain, and so we took our places hastily and gave the word to start, and our long journey had commenced. Our fellow-passengers had evi- dently been apprised that a juvenile couple were to join them here who had been so indiscreet as to get married, and so they scrutinized us very closely for a time, and evidently pitied us for our folly. Still we were content if they were, and pitied them as much as they could us. They were well-dressed people, and evidently well brought up. We learned after- At Auburn The Last Farewell. 171 wards they were from Baltimore, and were to accompany us to Buffalo. They were rather of the straight-laced order, and had they come from New England we should have thought them rather of the puritanical cast. The roads were fine, the day pleasant, and we made rapid progress. By degrees the aching of the heart, with which we had started, wore away, and we enjoyed our ride as well as we could have wished. I had previously consented to escort Mrs. William Flusky to Chicago, where her husband had been for perhaps a year, while she had remained with her friends at Rome. She was now anxious to join him, and as it was not easy to find an escort then for such a journey, she gladly placed herself under my charge. She joined us at Vernon, as had been arranged. Here, too, I took on board my library, weighing probably four hundred pounds, for which I had made a special arrangement, and had it on the way-bill. When this was lifted into the bottom of the boot by three stout men I heard some hard words, and but for the note on the way-bill no doubt it would have been left. However, when once on board and the trunks on top I felt contented ; for unless we should break down it would not be removed till we should get to Buffalo. AT AUBURN THE LAST FAREWELL. We reached Auburn about nine o'clock in the evening, which had given us a rapid ride. Here the last link was to be broken. My wife was to separate from the last of her family. Here she parted with her sister, Mrs. Cadwell. Fortunately, there was no time for lamentation. The stage stopped at the hotel, and only waited for us to get out, to take them to their 1/2 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. house. As we had to start at five o'clock in the morning, of course we could not think of accepting their proffered hospi- tality. We took a hasty supper and retired. I slept so soundly that it did not seem that I had been sleeping five minutes, when the porter thundered at the door and announced that the stage was ready. I could have choked the rascal on sight for this untimely waking, but a single thought showed that not a mo- ment could be lost, and so incontinently there was active work, for of all others, we should not be the last, else our ancient friends from Baltimore would be absolutely horrified at such shocking improprieties. They might lay in bed till we should wait an hour, and all would be well, but if we should stay a moment past the time it would be a hanging matter. So, for their sakes, also, we must be active. For myself, I wanted no more than three minutes to wash and dress completely, but I suspected it was not so with my partner. And so it proved. When I was ready, she had, so far as I could judge by a stolen glance or two, hardly made a fair commencement. I then kindly offered my assistance, if I could be of any service in the emergency, while I freely owned that want of knowl- edge on the subject might make me rather awkward. She did not look as if she much regretted that want of opportunity had left me in such utter ignorance of the art. She thanked me, but declined my services, and said she would be ready very soon. As, in other situations, often is the case, I thought a slight embarrassment, which could not be concealed, beyond all doubt retarded the urgent work, so with as little ceremony as was fitting, I excused myself to see that all was right below and pay the bill, and left her. I would wager much The Next Days Ride. 173 that she was gladder then to see my back than she had ever been before. Fortunately I met Mrs. Flusky in the upper hall, who inquired if Mrs. Caton was nearly ready. I said, Yes, I thought so, but was not quite sure, so she had better go and see, and then I pointed to the door. She evidently compre- hended the situation, and with a playful smile hastened to render more acceptable service. THE NEXT DAY'S RIDE. Soon we were all on board, fortunately, as we thought, the old maids being the last to come. With a pleasant good morning all around, we rolled rapidly away. In the coach we found Judge Kirkland, of Utica, who had built the house where my wife was born and where we were married, and had sold it to my father-in-law. The country then was new, and he had cleared away the forest for a place on which to build the house. He was a lively and a very pleasant old gentleman, and was a very intimate friend of our family. He regretted that he had not been able to be at the wedding, but was much rejoiced to meet us now and make my acquaintance. He told me right before her that I had got a gem of a wife ; and he knew enough of human ways to see by my looks that I loved her most desperately, and he felt perfectly assured that we should be very happy together; for, said he, she can not conceal that she loves you just as much. He said, so soon as he returned he should tell her father this, and make such report as would make a happy household in the paternal mansion. Mrs. Caton blushed to crimson, for a bride not three days old is more diffident than a maiden is. Still, I know it made her 174 Our Coiirtship and Our Zfarriage. very happy. He had insisted that I should sit beside her on the forward seat, while he with Mrs. Flusky and the bachelor occupied the middle, and the two old maids sat in the one behind them. He enforced the propriety of this by saying that I ought not to be tempted to look in such a face all day long, while he and his friend beside him (to whom he grace- fully inclined his head) had passed the time of life when such temptations could do much harm. This hit at the bachelor of forty, by the facetious judge of seventy or more, seemed to tell severely on the squire and the maiden dames, whose faces, we could see, could not conceal their disgust at the encourage- ment he gave us for our mutual fondness, which perhaps we could not always entirely conceal from their scrutinizing watch- fulness. He had evidently early comprehended them, and amused himself by playing upon their sensibilities. Mrs. Flusky, too, enjoyed the scene as much as any one. When he left us a few hours later, we regretted it as much as they felt relieved. They could better put up with our young follies, as they manifestly considered every look and word between us, than with the home thrusts of his sharp rapier. After he was gone, they seemed to take courage, and looked around as if they thought they could deal with two love-sick juveniles as we deserved ; but I met the gaze of the male biped in a way which I meant should say, "What do you propose to do about it?" However, in the course of the day, things tempered down a little, and I managed to get some conversation out of the party, which served to while away the time. Some time after noon we reached Canandaigua, where Mrs. Caton had attended school for several years, and she expressed The Next Days Ride. 1/5 a desire to call at the seminary and pay her respects to her former teachers. Now this pleased me much, for I thought she felt ambitious to show them what sort of a husband she had got, so I made arrangements with the agent that they should take half an hour to change the horses. The walk was not long, nor had we long to wait when they saw our cards. They, of course, overwhelmed the bride with their congratu- lations, and told her frankly they thought she had done excellently well, so far as they could judge from appearances only. We made but a short call, and soon hastened back and resumed our seats again and went on our way, but not without some grumbling from our antiquated neighbors, who sorely grudged the loss of time, for I suspected from a little malice toward us, they had made up their minds to go to Buffalo that night if we could be brought to consent. Although by special arrangement, I had the right to insist on laying over, we had, on private consultation, concluded to humor them. So we consented to go directly through. We had made much more rapid progress than I had expected, and as I could not yet learn when the steamer was to leave for the upper lakes, I thought the chances of a few hours might be worth saving, and this reconciled us to the proposed arrangement. However, luckily, as I then thought, and so it proved eventually, when we reached Avon, near sunset, either one or both of the amiable spinsters gave out, and so we professed to make a virtue of necessity, though with some affected grumbling on our part, and changed our plans agair so as to stay there over night. It was a little town on the top of a rising ground, where travelers rarely stopped. Our neighbors found accommodation 176 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. at the most promising looking house, but they filled it full. So we had to seek for quarters at the hotel across the green. There the landlord said he had but one spare bed in the whole house. But if the ladies could sleep together, he would make me up the nicest place in the world on the sofa in the parlor, a little room which he showed me, about ten by twelve feet. Now this proposition did not suit my notions of propriety no, not by a great deal, and so I told him, but he could not see it until I finally explained that I thought it would be unpardon- able neglect to turn my wife off with Mrs. Flusky, when I had never done so rude a thing in*all my life, or rather, to speak more accurately, since we were married, although as that event had occurred not three days before, in truth I had had but little opportunity to do so. Still I thought it very rude to be guilty of such neglect so soon. At last, with all this circumlocution, he became enlightened, and declared that he had not sus- pected the case was so imminent, and finally concurred with me on the question of propriety I had raised, though still that could not make another bed ; I then asked him, as I confessed to a little delicacy on the subject, if he would not go to Mrs. Flusky and offer her the cot on the sofa, and assure her that she should meet with no interruption there; and so the matter was arranged. Mrs. Flusky declared in the morning her bed was nice, and that she never rested better, and we went on our way rejoicing. We reached Buffalo not long after noon, I think. Here we parted with the three celibates who had been our traveling companions for the last two days, whose frozen hearts had refused to soften in the genial warmth which surrounded us, At Buffalo I Find Some Friends. 177 which I thought at least should have melted ice itself, although \ve kept it to ourselves as much as possible. They selected a different hotel from ours, and so we never saw them more. We wished them peace, but as for happiness, in its higher sense, I fear it was not in store for them. What are such people made for ? AT BUFFALO I FIND SOME FRIENDS. I secured nice quarters at a good hotel, and after we had dined I left the ladies in their respective rooms to make them- selves % comfortable, and went to the office. There I met several Chicago friends. We were delighted to see each other. I was the recipient of their cordial congratulations, and they expressed great desire to see Mrs. Caton, which pleasure I promised them so soon as she could make herself presentable after so long and dusty a journey. My friends were smoking their post-prandial cigars, and of course I joined them, forget- ting that I had not touched a particle of tobacco for the last three weeks. I had never told Miss Sherrill or Mrs. Caton that I did not use tobacco in every form, except as might be inferred from my present abstinence. The subject had never been alluded to between us. I smoked up the cigar without once thinking of the subject in the interest I felt with my friends, learning what had transpired in Chicago since I had left, and telling them in a general way how I had been occupied, and especially giving them assurance that I was taking home the best and the prettiest girl ever raised east of the lakes. After spending an hour with them, and learning that the departure of the steamer had been again postponed, 13 178 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. for perhaps ten days, and thinking that now Mrs. Caton had had plenty of time to make her toilet, I went up to her room. THE TOBACCO SCENE. I found her dressed, and, if possible, more lovely and blooming than ever. She received me as she should, alleging that I had been gone so long she did not know but that I had got sick of her already and ran away. Before I had time to make reply to this rally, somehow or other I have ever been at a loss to tell how she discovered I had been smoking. She was, no doubt, a little surprised at the discovery, and I presume regretted it; but she did not even say that much. When I attempted some explanation she said I need not fear an unpleasant scene or the least reproof; that I should always smoke just as much as I liked; that she knew I had sense and firmness enough not to use tobacco to excess ; that her father had always used it, and had made none the worse a husband or father on that account; and on the whole she was rather inclined to the opinion it was a good thing, for she believed men were never angry when they smoked. If its soothing influence was so beneficial as that, she thought ladies should always encourage it. For her part she detested those wives who were always picking, and thrusting, and teasing their husbands about their filthy tobacco. She never knew such a course to stop any man, who was of any account at least, from using it, and if she were a man she would use all the more for it. That she would take care that my cigar box, my pipes and tobacco box should have the nicest place in all the house, and never be mislaid if she could help it. She insisted I had not The Tobacco Scene. 179 deceived her in the least about tobacco. It was very justifia- ble to leave it off when I was so anxious to appear to the best advantage, without a stain on my teeth or a taint in my breath. But that she would have loved me all the same if I had used it constantly. This course on her part took me down completely. It was the first thing that ever had occurred which could have given her any cause of complaint or reproof had she been never so complaining and it was the very occasion which perhaps too many women would have embraced, to complain or reprove. Some, no doubt, even if they had felt no real objection to the habit, would have considered the opportunity too good to be lost, always delighted to find cause for some little fault which they can notice. My wife thought differently, and no doubt, wisely. That was a time when it was of the utmost import- ance that she should secure, or rather retain, all my confi- dence all my good feeling and all her influence over me. This could never be done by allowing any circumstance to come between us and disturb our harmony of thought and feeling. I can not describe how I thanked her for her kindness, but much more for her discretion and wisdom. While there was one little flash in her observations, which showed she had no lack of spirit, it was manifest that that spirit would never show itself in unkindness to me, unless I should provoke it beyond endurance by unkindness on my part. This little incident opened a door for a very early and mutual discussion of the whole subject of conjugal treatment and intercourse which I shall have occasion to mention while on our voyage I So Our Courtship and Our Marriage. home, when we had plenty of leisure to talk up the whole subject in all its bearings. For the present it is sufficient to say that this interview of half an hour, while she sat in my iap with her arm on my shoulder, and mine around her waist, opened to me a new chapter in her character and disposition, Avhich promised even more than I could have expected for our future happiness, and I resolved anew that she should never exceed me in devotion and. self-denial, and I think I made her understand this. I assured her on the spot that I could quit the use of tobacco without regret or any great sacrifice, and that I should be unworthy of such a wife if I could not, or if I would not, in case she desired it; that I had abstained from it for three weeks on account of my love to her, and that I was ready to prove that I could abstain from it for thirty years, or more, should we so long live, for that same love. She had but to say the word and the thing was done irrevocably. She said no; she did not ask it; she did not wish it. If, in the least, it would add to my comfort, she wished me to continue it; that she should be much happier to see me thus enjoy myself, than to reflect that she had deprived me of a single comfort ; that it was in no way disagreeable to her, if it were only neatly done, and not in such excess as to be injurious. That she already anticipated much pleasure in keeping my smoking apparatus all in the finest order. Ah, how nice it would be after tea, when we should be all by ourselves, to bring me my slippers, smoking cap and cigar, or pipe, if I chose it. Indeed, she had to thank me for a new source of enjoyment, which she had not anticipated when she thought she had exhausted all manner of contrivances as to how she The Tobacco Scene. 181 might add but the least particle to my pleasure or my comfort. At this new proof of a desire to make me happy, at this new exhibition of goodness, at this development of a new trait of character, think you not my heart swelled out even more than ever before ! What could I say to all this ? Words could not express my feelings. Acts then and ever must testify to what words could not. I promised much ; I have ever tried to keep those promises. That, I may say, was really the first opportunity she ever had to exhibit those traits of character, that extraordinary disposi- tion, which have characterized her conduct throughout what may be termed a long conjugal life; which have had such a powerful influence in moulding my own character ; and which have contributed so essentially to our mutual happiness, and I hope have not been without their influence on our children. These were not mere ebullitions of what may be called the first flush of love. They were exhibitions of permanent traits of character, which have been ever growing and expanding, a blessing to herself and to her family, and indeed to all within her influence. Would that all young married women could thus commence to manage their husbands. Would that they could appreciate that the more they give the more will they surely receive. Would they do so, surely there would be more good husbands in the world; there would be more happy wives and contented households than there now are. We all love to be led and controlled by kindness and love ; and so do we hate to be driven and coerced, to the discharge even of a plain duty. 1 82 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. 1 INTRODUCE HER TO MY FRIENDS. But we have made this private interview long enough, for those gentlemen below will get impatient waiting for my re- turn, which I promised should be soon. When I told her some young gentlemen from Chicago desired an introduction, and were really half dying to see one of whom they had heard so much from various sources, she expressed an equal anxiety to see if all the Chicago gentlemen were like the one whose acquaintance she had so lately made. Any little readjustment of dress deemed necessary was soon made, and she announced herself ready, and then we went together to the parlor. My friends soon appeared, and my wife made her first acquaintance with some of that society among which she was afterwards to move. Of course the call was very pleasant. When it was over, she thought them very agreeable and well accomplished. While they declared it was a mystery past finding out how I had managed first to find and then obtain such a girl ; I could only say the first was by accident, but for the other I never could tell myself it must ever remain a mystery. Of course these compliments had to be repeated, and were no doubt gratifying ; for what woman ever lived, who was fit to live, who was not pleased to know that any excellency she might be thought to possess was well appreciated by all who knew or saw her ? BUSINESS THE QUEEN CHARLOTTE. But business must now be attended to. We could not wait ten days there for the steamer. That could not be thought of. Btistness The Queen Charlotte. 183 We could take a passage any day for Detroit, and go thence by stage to Chicago ; but I dreaded this, for we had heard fearful reports of sickness in Michigan, and to take my wife at once through a country believed then to be filled with malaria, I would not do at any sacrifice. Besides, I had promised her mother I would take her around the lakes, and avoid what was then thought to be almost a pestilence. It was even better to spend ten or twenty days in a sail vessel, if one could be found with comfortable accommodations. In these counsels Mrs. Flusky of course participated. She voted strongly for proceeding any way, if a chance could only be procured. I started for the wharves to make inquiries and then report. I soon came upon the Queen Charlotte, Captain Cotton, and learned that she was loading for Chicago. She was one of the vessels taken by Perry at the battle of Erie, on the tenth of September, 1814, after which she had been sunk in Erie Bay, where she had laid under water for more than twenty years, and had just been raised and newly rigged and fitted out, and was now loading for her first voyage. She was a brig of about five hundred tons. She had a nice cabin, with ten state-rooms neatly furnished with three berths each, with new clean linen, and each room with a nice little wash-stand. I could have a choice of rooms. She was to sail four days hence, or on the morning of the Wednesday following. I returned and reported progress. I described every thing as minutely as possible. The state-rooms were small no doubt, but large enough to dress in comfortably ; the berths were nar- row, it was true, but one person could sleep in one very nicely; they promised good fare, and I had no fears that 1 84 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. we should starve ; I had met some of the passengers who were going, and they seemed nice pleasant people. At any rate it was worthy of further consideration, and so thought we "all of us." It was decided that the ladies should visit the brig in the morning, when we would come to a final determination. We called that evening on some friends of Mrs. Caton in the city, and on the whole our first half-day in Buffalo passed very pleasantly. WE BOOK FOR THE VOYAGE IN THE QUEEN. After breakfast the next morning we took a pretty long walk about the town and finally reached the Queen Charlotte. The Captain treated us very politely, and was evidently pleased at the idea of adding our names to his list of passengers. The cabin looked really charming, everything was so clean and neat. He explained to us that before we should sail, all the boxes and bales which now encumbered the deck would be cleared away, and showed us what a fine promenade we should then have for exercise ; that he would have settees and seats brought on deck as we should want, and showed us that we should really be more comfortable than on a steamer, and with fair winds we would be but little longer on the way. Of course I left the decision to the ladies, who finally settled it in the affirmative, and selected their state-rooms. Mrs. Caton dis- covered that the third berth in our room was just the thing to serve in place of a wardrobe. Mrs. Flusky could take a room- mate or not, as she pleased. ;!/>/ Wife Disposed to Help Me. 185 A PROFESSIONAL OBJECT IN VIEW. For myself, I had a professional object in view, which induced me to desire to make this voyage, which I, however, did not explain to Mrs. Caton till after the decision was made. No proctor can be properly qualified for maritime litigation without having some practical knowledge of navigation of that class involved in his practice. Some maritime business had already occurred in Chicago, and there was no doubt it was destined to become very large, and I was determined to qualify myself for it as thoroughly as possible. To do this, I must become familiar with the names of all the rigging, under- stand all the nautical terms used in giving orders for sailing a vessel ; understand, practically, the force of the wind on all the sails, when placed in different positions, with reference to its course; and, in fine, get as thorough a knowledge as possible of all that related to practical navigation on the lakes, at least as to the working of the vessel. One possessing such knowledge must have a great advantage over one ignorant in such matters. There were then few brigs in the lake marine, and it might be long before I could have another opportunity of sailing in one, while almost any day I could make a trip in a schooner. Then it was turning to good account time which might otherwise not be so well spent. MY WIFE DISPOSED TO HELP ME. When I explained all this to Mrs. Caton, after the decision was finally made, and we were fairly booked for the voyage, she entered into the advantage of the arrangement fully, and 1 86 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. reproved me gently for not having explained it before, that she might console herself with the belief that my advancement had had its influence in her determination ; and averred that for that purpose she would make the voyage in almost any vessel, even if it took a month, and assured me that I should ever find her ready to submit to any inconvenience or personal sacrifice deemed necessary to help me along in my profession, or, indeed, any of my enterprises. It was our success we must both work for. She claimed to have as much interest in that success as I had, and that it was as much her right and her duty to work for it as it was mine ; that no couple could ever rise in the world if one was pulling down while the other was struggling to get up; that woman had her duties to per- form as well as man, which, though of a quite different character, were not less imperative, and perhaps not less important ; that she could at least comfort, stimulate and encourage him, if she could not take hold and actually labor with him in his specific work, and that it even might happen that she could in some exceptional instances do this, and when that should occur she would not be found wanting. Grand words these, and grandly have they been fulfilled, as her hand- writing on the files of the courts where I practiced long years ago will attest. What man, worthy the name of man, would not work and struggle with such support as this ? With the ambition and resolution which had always animated me and helped me along so far, how perfectly did her tastes and judg- ment accord with my own. If I had loved her, as it were by a sort of inspiration, before I really knew her, what could be the appropriate description of my sensibilities towards her, as My Wife Disposed to Help Me. 187 her character, thoughts and feelings were thus by degrees unfolded ? If I had all the while believed that she was an extraordinary woman, I had hardly anticipated all this. It was filling full that measure of ideal perfection which I had hardly believed could ever be found in real life. If my love for her made me think that every thing which she said and did was better than as if the same had been said and done by another well, let me think so. I hope others may think the same of their own. They surely should when they find them so true, so faithful, so sensible, so appreciative, so unselfish and self-sacrificing; of so clear a judgment in all things, and yet so gentle, mild and unobtrusive. Perhaps I should not remember all these early incidents, which so lit up my hopes and so stimulated my energies, had not every promise, every sentiment and every thought then expressed, been so fully carried out through so many years of varied fortune. Well, whenever I forget myself and wander off in that direction, I never know when to stop; and I do not know but that I may some time get started on that course and not stop at all. It is a theme I delight to dwell upon, and why should I not? Whenever a new trait was developed in the characteristics of my wife, which my limited acquaintance with her had not enabled me before to see distinctly, although I may have be- lieved that she possessed it, my mind naturally traced out its consequences, and so I set them down here as they occurred; and so I let you see what she was by degrees, as her character and disposition were manifested to me, rather than to group all together in some one place, with such comments as justice 1 88 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. and my own inclination demand I should say about her, although this course may sometimes compel an appearance of repetition. WE VISIT HER BROTHER. After this matter was thus settled, we found three days on our hands before we should go on board, and Mrs. Caton pro- posed that we should go to Fredonia and see her brother Henry, where he was attending school. Nothing could have suited me better ; so after dinner we took a steamer, and before night found ourselves in nice snug quarters at the hotel in that little town, near the lake. A note to Henry soon brought him over, as well as two cousins, sons of uncle Lewis, who was so embarrassed when we met in the stage on my way down. We were glad to meet, and so we spent a pleasant evening. It took till late to talk up all about the family and what was said about the West. The next day we dined with them at their boarding-house, and did the town very thoroughly. I remember nothing of especial interest, except the gas works, which consisted of a large gas-holder or reservoir, built in the usual form over a large spring, whence natural gas was continually escaping, which furnished tolerable illumination, and, I think I under- stood, sufficient to supply the town. On the day following we returned to Buffalo, where Mrs. Flusky had remained, and found her well, though she com- plained that she had been rather lonely while we were away. WE GO ON BOARD. We now finished up the sights of Buffalo, to be ready to go We Get Under Way. 189 on board the brig according to appointment. By ten o'clock the next morning all were snugly on board, our baggage stowed away, and such articles from the trunks as we should require during the voyage, or at least those constantly required, in our state-rooms, of which we took full possession. The wind was fair and we were impatient to be off. But so I suspect it is almost always. Freight was still coming on board as lively as ever, and the mate went bustling around to stow it away below. WE GET UNDER WAY. We did not get under way till about four o'clock in the afternoon, and I suppose got a little impatient at the delay; but we had a very good dinner and gave very little expression to our impatience. I should think there were not more than fifteen passengers, which left us plenty of room. There were quite a number of children, which promised some music in the cabin, not always of the most harmonious kind; but we made up our minds not to notice that. We had been children once, and no doubt annoyed some one, and so must it be there- after, else the world would be become depopulated. When we sailed, the decks were all clear, the hatches battened down and all made snug and clean. The sights and scenes were pretty as we passed out of the harbor and laid our course westward. We stood in a group at the stern of the vessel, and watched the city and the shipping in the harbor as we slowly moved away, and objects became gradually less and less sharply defined. The wind was fair but light, and the sensation was pleasurable as we moved silently over the 1 90 Our Courtship and Our Marriage, waters, whose surface was but slightly ruffled. We occasion- ally met a vessel bound down, which of course was observed with interest ; for we already began to experience that feeling which I believe is universal when sailing on a large body of water, as the ocean or our great lakes, of taking an interest in every object which comes into view, which increases as we approach it. While the shades of evening began to gather around us, the city was still plainly visible ; but as we stood over on the north side, the Canada shore was much nearer, the trees upon which were easily distinguished. NAUTICAL LESSONS. I had already commenced studying my nautical lessons. Even in the stowing away the last of the cargo, in battening down the hatches and getting all snug, I had taken an interest; but I had been more particularly attentive when the order was given to cast off the lines, and the mate gave directions to some of the sailors to get up the flying-jib, and others the fore- sail, and the brig began to move slowly from the dock, but with constantly accelerated motion, as one sail after another was exposed to the light breeze, till all, including the studding- sails, were fully set and drawing beautifully. Although I had often sailed in schooners, and always observingly, I was never in a brig before, and found many new things to learn. I tried to fix upon my mind the meaning of all the terms I heard used, and to comprehend the reason of every act I saw per- formed. By the time night closed in, I felt that I had already stored away new knowledge which I should afterwards turn to good account; and so it was. Sail Through Lake Erie. 191 SAIL THROUGH LAKE ERIE. The evening was deliriously cool and pleasant, and we all enjoyed it on deck till a late hour, when we retired to our little state-rooms. We found them small enough, so that but one could undress or dress at a time ; but as time was now of no par- ticular importance, this was no great inconvenience, and when fairly shelved we found the beds comfortable, and we slept well. When we awoke in the morning, I observed there was much more motion on the ship than there had been the day before, and I inquired of the lady in the berth below how she had rested, and if she began to feel any sickness? She had slept as well as could be expected under the circumstances, and did not yet feel any sea-sickness. I advised her to remain in bed, the longer the better, for she would be less likely to be affected by the motion of the vessel than when sitting up. I, too, had had a good night's sleep, and we resolved to console ourselves the best we could while in that little den. I soon left her in the entire possession and went on deck, where I found we were running free before a fine breeze, and going through the water at a spanking rate. A brig does not roll as much, when right before the wind, as a schooner does when her main and foresail are wing and wing, and the only motion to be observed in the Queen that morning was fore and aft, which does not disturb the stomachs of landsmen as much as a roll- ing motion from side to side. Although the wind was fresh, yet none except the studding-sails had been taken in or reefed. I was careful, so soon as the ladies made their appearance, to get them on deck, and as near amidships as possible, and 192 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. brought them their breakfasts. By this means the sickness I had feared was almost entirely avoided. I felt that such a day's sail as we had before us would accustom them to the motions of the seas, and that every hour of such experience was an additional guarantee for the future. By noon the wind had perceptibly increased, but we run before it with such speed that we hardly felt it on deck; at least, it was in no degree uncomfortable, but just cool and refreshing, ( for you must remember that this was in the first week of August the hottest season of the year. In the afternoon the mate got out a large line, which he attached to the main topmast, and braced it to the stern rail, and attached heavy blocks, with which he drew it very taut. The necessity for such precaution showed what a tremendous strain there was upon the rigging ; and it must have been so, from the rate at which we were going. In answer to my inquiry, the mate expressed the opinion that we were running fourteen or fifteen knots an hour. His name was Aull; he was an old sailor, and evidently understood his business well. This was his first voyage on the lakes. He seemed to prefer the Atlantic, for he thought there was too much land about the lakes. When we retired we were still running at a very rapid rate, which produced an exhilarating sensation. If the wind was strong, it was very steady, and our canvas was not reduced, yet the most vigilant watch was maintained to detect the first symptoms of any thing giving way. Friday the wind was still fair, but not so fresh as the day before, but a little more quartering, which nearly made up for the loss of force by exposing more canvas to its action. Becalmed in the River. 193 BECALMED IN THE RIVER. On Saturday morning we found ourselves at anchor in the mouth of the Detroit river, where the wind had left us shortly after we had passed out of the lake. Here we had a beautiful view of some islands and both banks of the river. Several windmills in sight interested the ladies very much, as they were the first they had ever seen. They regretted that there was no wind by which they could see them in motion. The heat, for the first time since we had come on board, was found to be rather oppressive. We had had a very fine run through Lake Erie in two and one half days, and without any suffering from sea-sickness, and this gave us hopes of a pleasant and quick passage, if we could but get through into Lake Huron without detention. The brig had proved herself a fine sailer, and had behaved beautifully in a heavy sea. Both officers and sailors were loud in her praise, in which the passengers were ready to join them. Before noon the steamer Daniel Webster appeared. She belonged to the same company as the brig, and on a signal from the Captain, she came along- side and took us in tow, when we soon reached Detroit. In the course of the afternoon a fair wind sprang up, and we started up the river, and early the next morning we were at the foot of Lake St. Clair. CROSSING THE FLATS AGAIN HARD AGROUND. About daylight the Daniel Webster came up and took us in tow again. No doubt the owners knew we were drawing too much water for the safe navigation of the channel across 194 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. the flats. The steamer brought a local pilot, a Canadian Frenchman, who was supposed to, and probably did, know the channel well. After breakfast, by iirvitation, we went on board the Webster, where we spent most of the day. We moved very slowly up the channel, the brig being lashed to the side of the steamer. The muddy water behind the brig showed that she was touching the bottom, and she moved slower and slower, while they put on more and more steam, till every thing trembled violently. In the emergency, I was much amused to see the little French pilot almost beside himself, first swearing half in English and half in French at one thing and then another, but always protesting she was in the very best kind of water. At last we stopped altogether. Now here I was for the second time hard aground on the St. Clair Flats. The first time it was Sunday evening and Monday, the fourth day of July. Now it was Sunday, the ninth of August. FOREKNOWLEDGE NOT DESIRABLE. How much had been done and how changed the situation in the intervening month! Had some kind astrologer, when there the month before, cast my horoscope and told me of the events so rapidly to transpire, and how soon again I should be there, with her I loved so much along, and so happy with me, too, how much I would have blessed the prophet, and almost worshiped at his feet. Yet now it was plain to see that all was wisely ordered for the best, and that such foreknowledge would have destroyed the rich flavor of the events as one by one they came along, with as much rapidity as I could well A Frightful Incident. 195 digest the happiness produced by each. When they came without foreknowledge, each incident had a freshness and a fragrance which would have been wanting had I known that it was fore-ordained and certainly must come to pass. Even the gambler would take no pleasure in the play if he certainly knew beforehand whether he should win or lose. It is the uncertainty of the future which gives the zest and stimulates poor feeble man to exert his tiny might to shape the future as he could wish it. If he knew that future certainly, he would, more or less, lose his interest in it, and he would lack the stimulant which gives us pleasure to exercise our energies. I could now see it was far better as it was. The stopping of the vessel had the contrary effect on our French pilot to what it had on Captain Blake. The former was conscious he had done all he could, and that the stoppage was unavoidable, and he felt quite easy. The latter knew that he was to blame, and so he was terribly enraged. The Web- ster drew less water than the Queen, and so could work round her, first pulling her bow round and then her stern. It was a hard day's work, full of excitement and bustle, and there was no quiet for any one. A FRIGHTFUL INCIDENT. A little before sunset we got over, when the brig's yawl came to the steamer for us. To get on board the brig we had to ascend perpendicular steps for about twelve feet, and hence it was very proper that the ladies should go up last, and so the Captain directed. I left my wife in the yawl with great reluctance, but there was no help for it. After I got on deck, I stood close by watching the ladies ascending the ladder one 196 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. by one. As mine was the youngest, she was the last. When the last before her stepped onto the ladder, she was half fright- ened out of her wits, and, without intending it, gave the boat, now light upon the water, a violent shove, which threw Mrs. Caton, who was standing off her guard and on one side, quite from her balance, and she made a start to go overboard head- foremost! I had been fearful all the time that something would happen to her. The accident so shocked me that I grew faint and weak. However, she had the discretion to drop down, which kept the center of gravity inside, and she escaped with only wet hands and a slight bruise. Before I could even start to go down after her, as quick as a cat she sprung up the steps, and in an instant she was at the top. When I helped her over the bulwarks, I felt as if I was receiving her almost from death itself. In all my life I had never before received such a shock. I am not easily excited or moved by anger or alarm, but when it does occur, I am much more affected than a more excitable person. I am gen- erally calm and collected in the greatest peril, and so should I have been now had the peril been to myself, but some way this took hold of me in every nerve and every fiber. I felt pros- trated and hurried away with her to the cabin, where we were quite alone, all the others remaining on deck looking at the Webster as she steamed away towards Detroit. I fear I acted a little foolish. There being no one by to impose restraint, I hardly tried to restrain my feelings. She soon managed to calm down my excitement, but I felt the effects of it for some days ; something similar to what I have observed on the very few occasions when I have become really angry, which may /;/ the St. Clair Rircr. 197 be better expressed by saying terribly mad, when I have felt sore all over for a considerable time. If I am not easily pro- voked to any degree of anger, when it does come it sweeps over me like a tornado in violence, but is much longer in duration. This excitement did not subside immediately, but became rather intermittent, for it kept returning, in spite of myself, every time my mind recurred to the fearful circum- stance, each time fairly suspending the action of the heart. Even yet I can not remember it without something of the same feeling. But let it pass now. I dislike to think of it, though its remembrance often will come back. When we went on deck we were moving slowly to the northward. At last the wind died entirely away, when our anchor was dropped, and all was quiet except my throbbing heart, which was sorely agitated as often as I thought of the terrible calamity which had so nearly befallen me. I know not how late that night I sat on the floor, my head leaning on the berth where she lay, tormenting myself with a picture of the condition of things had the worst happened. Would I have gone on or turned back? No; I would have stopped there till I had found her, and then taken her back. But what a return would it have been ! I say, how long I sat there, dis- tressing myself and her too with these reflections, I know not. At length, however, she persuaded me to become quiet, or at least for her sake I assumed to be so, and crawled away to my shelf above. IX THE ST. CLAIR RIVER. I think it took us two days before we cleared the river and passed into Lake Huron. During most of the day-time we 198 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. lay at anchor for the want of sufficient wind to move us against the current. Several times the Captain sent the boat ashore with passengers, to allow them a walk there; but I refused to expose my precious freight to such another peril. On the second day we reached a little dock covered with shingles, when we enjoyed a ramble through the adjoining woods, and gathered a basket of wintergreen, which consoled us for our week's confinement on board. THE CAPTAIN RUDE. When we returned we were surprised to find the deck covered with shingles up to the top of the bulwarks. I mildly suggested to the Captain that I feared the ladies would not find the promenade on deck as delightful as he had sug- gested before we sailed. He answered me in a very rude tone, in the presence of the ladies, that I had better attend to my own business, and he would to his. Although I felt out- raged and indignant at his insulting rudeness, I did not allow myself to get mad, but appreciated that it was neither time nor place for an altercation. Not one of my party spoke to him again during the voyage, unless to answer some question in the shortest possible way. The other passengers seemed to feel the insult as offered to all, and treated him in a similar manner. Although he was naturally a rude, insolent man, as was manifested several times by his treatment of his subordi- nates, yet he knew how to appear to be a gentleman if he chose. This enabled him to feel the silent rebuke much more than he would have done an angry reply. He was evidently very uncomfortable under it before we reached Chicago, but A Storm Sea-Sickness. 199 he had not the good sense to make an apology ; and when he found he could not re-establish friendly intercourse with the passengers without it, he became morose, but he only exhibited this feeling to those under him, without seeking further discord with us. Some time after, when I got him on the witness-stand, I can not deny that I managed to make him remember, without direct allusion to it, that we had met before, with a deck load of shingles. Perhaps I ought not to have taken advantage of my position to make him uncomfortable, but for the life of me I could not help it. A STORM SEA-SICKNESS. Almost as soon as we got into the lake, a strong southwest wind came on, and we ran before it a day and a night at a very rapid rate, and were already congratulating ourselves on the prospect of reaching Mackinaw the next day, when the wind died away, and then came in from the north with a violence of which we had thus far had no example. The sails were all taken in except the mainsail, foresail and jib, which were close reefed, and under these the brig fairly quivered. Fortunately we had plenty of clear sea-room behind us ; but the result was we were driven a long way back into Lake Huron during the two days the gale lasted, and when it did abate the weather was not favorable for regaining our lost ground. During this storm, most of the passengers suffered severely from sea-sickness, and my ladies had their first real experience of it. Fortunately I was not affected by it I have very rarely felt mal de mcr so I was enabled to bestow upon them all my attention. 200 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. SHORT RATIONS HARD-TACK. When the gale was over, and the passengers felt sufficiently recovered to think of nourishment, it was discovered that our supplies had all given out except sea-bread, or hard-tack, and we all had to live on that till we reached Mackinaw. During that storm I had an opportunity of showing off my best points as a nurse. If I did not do it well, it was not for want of effort. To see my young wife so deathly sick tried me most severely, and I wished a thousand times that we could have changed conditions. I do think I suffered more from sym- pathy than she did from sickness, and I know this is saying much. I was with her most of the time, doing all I could, which was in reality very little, except only what comfort my sympathy may have afforded. I did all I could for Mrs. Flusky, also. AN EXCITING RUN. At length, on Sunday morning when I went on deck, I found a stiff breeze blowing on our larboard quarter, and we were dashing along at a terrible rate in almost perfectly still water, but a short distance from some islands covered with evergreens, which prevented the water from being agitated by the high wind which was forcing us along so rapidly. I knew we must be near Mackinaw, and hastened below with the encouraging assurance that we would have whitefish for dinner. To go at one step from hard-tack to whitefish seemed almost too much for belief. All hastened on deck as soon as' possible, and climbed up on the piles of shingles as well as we could; and certainly never before or since have I enjoyed such In Mackinaw Whitefish. 20 1 a sail as we had that morning. The brig listed over to the command of the wind, which had now become a little more abeam ; and except on the May Powell, I think I have never traveled faster on any vessel. The water was so still that we could observe no motion except that of progression alone ; but this was so great that it was very exhilarating, to say the least. IN MACKINAW WHITEFISH. About ten o'clock on Sunday morning, the sixteenth of August, we rounded to in the little harbor at Mackinaw. Soon after our arrival, the little Mission church bell pealed out its call to congregate the worshipers. It was that same bell which had so much interested me on my way down, of which I have already spoken. Some of the passengers inquired of the Captain if he would remain in port long enough to allow us to attend the service; but he declined to promise this, although the wind was still blowing as strong as ever, and nearly from the direction we must go when we should start. No, he might sail in half an hour, and there was no safety but to remain on board, although I have not the least doubt that he knew he was wind-bound for the entire day; and the result showed that we did not move till the next morning. However, we con- soled ourselves; though with watering mouths, in anticipation of our whitefish dinner, of which the arrival of a fine lot from some Indian canoes, which came along-side almost as soon as we dropped our anchor, fully assured us. When it did come, and it came in good season, we made amends for our four days' fast on hard-tack. During the afternoon the Captain deigned to let us know 2O2 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. that he would not sail before evening, and that those who desired to go on shore could do so. I think all availed them- selves of the privilege. The officers of the fort treated us very politely, and showed us around the grounds and through the quarters. Our two hours ramble about the Island was a great relief after our long confinement, aggravated by the want of a yard of deck room for exercise. A STEAMER SAIL THROUGH THE STRAITS. The next morning the wind was light but fair, and we set our sails and laid our course up the straits. Just as we were getting under way, that steamer which had tantalized me so much came in. Had she been an hour earlier, we could have taken passage on her, and left the Queen and Captain Cotton and his deck-load of shingles; but now it was too late, and we must possess ourselves with contentment as best we might. In truth, I had taken enough nautical lessons, at least for the present, and was very anxious to get my party into more com- fortable quarters ; but regrets were useless, and so we deter- mined to make the best of it. Before a great while the steamer overtook and passed us; but by the time she had got a few miles ahead, the wind increased to a stiff breeze about as much as the brig could stagger under, without taking in some of the canvas and she again showed her sailing quali- ties beautifully, and manifestly gained upon the steamer, till the latter bore away on her course for Green Bay. Before night, however, the wind died entirely away, and we lay per- fectly becalmed among the islands. In Lake Michigan Pig Seas. 203 A SQUALL. At last, about sunset, every man on deck sprang to his feet apparently at the same instant, as if by a common impulse. The Captain gave his orders quick and short. Some of the men jumped into the rigging, while others sprang to the hal- yards and let everything go with a run. It seemed to me I never saw men work so fast, but they were none too quick, for before they had the sails half furled, or all even clewed up, a gust of wind struck us from the northwest, it seemed almost with the force of a cannon shot. I did not see how it was possible for the men aloft to keep from being blown away, and the unconfined but loosened sails snapped in the wind like a volley of musketry, and the vessel ca- reened over as if she must go on her beam ends, for it struck her broadside. For a few moments nothing could be done but to hold on and get the brig before the wind. The little tornado, however, only lasted a few minutes, and as soon as it moderated, some of the sails were furled and Others were reefed, and we dashed on our course again, thankful that we had escaped the squall so well, for we had but little sea- room ; and thankful, also, that we again had the means of moving on our way. IN LAKE MICHIGAN BIG SEAS. In the morning we passed the Manitous and launched out into the broad waters of Lake Michigan. The wind now came from the south of west, but not too fresh for our purpose, though it seemed very strong to us on deck, for we were running as 204 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. close-hauled as we possibly could, and it was as much as ever then that we maintained our distance of not more than two or three miles from the shore. The wind having the full sweep of the lake, had got up a tremendous sea, which sent the ladies to their berths again. Running, as we were, quartering across the seas, there seemed to be a sort of twist to the motion of the ship that was well-calculated if there was anything loose in one's stomach to find it out, and for a little while I was not sure but that was my case ; but presently all came right again, and I was enabled to do what could be done for others. Had such a sea came on the first day out, I do not know but they would have died, but twelve days upon the water, with some pretty sharp experience, had prepared them to stand any ordi- nary motion of the vessel without inconvenience, and even mitigate the effects of this the worst of all which we expe- rienced on that voyage, or that I have almost ever seen on lake or ocean. We passed the high sand-bank on which rests the Sleeping Bear as near as I -have ever been to it, and nearer than I desired to be just then. The great waves broke upon the sandy beach just under our lee all day long with a roar which, in a lull, we could sometimes hear, covering the whole line of coast with a white bank of foam. Off to windward, the white caps, breaking on the tops of all the waves, gave the lake the appear- ance of frozen snow, only all seemed moving directly toward us, as if each was determined to get on board, an enterprise in which many succeeded. Every few minutes a great wave would come, which it seemed must engulf us, and I interested myself very much standing near the wheel, where the mate Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 205 was watching and giving particular directions to the wheel-man how to meet them. It was surprising how a little turn of the wheel would enable the vessel to mount a wave without spilling a drop on deck, Avhich if differently met would break clear over us. That day to those who could come on deck the shingles did good service. Those on the starboard side served as an effectual breakwater to such of us as could climb upon those piled on the larboard quarter. It was easy to see, by observ- ing objects on the coast, that we were, after all, making good progress. When night shut in we had gained a better offing, and when I went to my bunk I had little fear that the morning would find us on the beach. CHICAGO IN SIGHT. Of what we saw, where we were, or what we did, on the fol- lowing day, I have not the most distant recollection. Every- thing seems a perfect blank from that evening till we woke up on the second morning after Thursday, the twentieth day of August, in sight of Chicago, perhaps six miles south of west of us, with a sweet little breeze which was wafting us slowly to the roadstead. We had been on board the vessel fifteen days. ETHICS OF EARLY CONJUGAL LIFE. I have thus far omitted to mention by far the greatest advantage we derived from this long and in some respects tedious voyage. That was, the uninterrupted private inter- views we had together at the very commencement of our married life. These were employed in discussing together the 206 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. manner in which we should treat each other, in order to secure the greatest amount of harmony and happiness. We frankly recognized the fact, that although our feelings now might tell us that nothing could ever arise that could give birth to the least discord or alienation, even for a single moment, yet from the imperfections of human nature, from which we knew we were not exempt, we must recognize the fact that such occurrences might and must arise in the course of our lives; and that it was much better to anticipate them now, and talk them over, and form resolutions how to meet them, when propositions from either could not be referred by the other to any past event which might give rise to a feeling that possibly a censure was intended by the simple suggestion as to the mode of meeting such contingency. Yes, the oppor- tunity to lay plans and form resolutions for future self-govern- ment in the very beginning, when such rules can in no way have been suggested by any past occurrence, avoids the possi- bility of awakening any unpleasant sensibility, and allows the parties to discuss their own case with the same calmness and impartiality that they could the case of third persons. Such was our position then. No word, no act, had occurred which either even wished otherwise. Not only perfect harmony, but entire and complete approbation had resulted from everything that had occurred between us. Then was the time, for instance, to resolve and agree together, that if one should ever speak a cross word or do an unkind act to the other, that the latter should not resent it, or answer it in the same tone or spirit, but if noticed at the time, to do it in the spirit of kindness and affection. That after the Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. : - irritation should be passed, it should be talked over in kind- ness, and resolves renewed to secure harmony and continued affection. \Ve can not overlook the fact that we all possess a sort of selfishness or self-pride, which in our softer moments is buried quite out of sight, but in moments of irritation will spring up and persuade us that we have been wronged, and that becom- ing self-respect requires us to resent the wrong, even though the offender be one whom we love most of all besides, and we have believed and declared a thousand times we loved more than ourselves, and for whom, to prove it, we have been ready a thousand times to sacrifice even life itself. Now of all things, this concealed self-love or spirit of pride, when it is tolerated and allowed to assert itself, is the most dangerous to conjugal happiness, and is the cause of more alienations between husbands and wives, where real and genuine love has existed, than perhaps all other causes combined. An inadvertent act wounds the feelings of one party, per- haps severely, without the least intentional wrong by the other. The latter takes umbrage that the former has taken offense when none was intended, and none should have been taken. Both feel themselves equally in the right, and to have been certainly wronged. Then this selfishness will try to show itself and to smother, though as yet it can not blot out, the love existing between the parties, but whispers both that self-respect requires them not to yield by making the first advances, but to stand upon dignity and make the other submit or take the consequences. When this state of feeling has once established itself, then each one experiences a sort of 2o8 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. bitter pleasure an uncomfortable happiness, in folding to trie bosom this feeling of acrimony, although, like the viper which it is, it is all the time striking with its poisoned fangs. While poor human nature is so prone to nurse such a feeling, which really arises from the sort of self-love which I have mentioned, and which, of all things, it is the most difficult to recognize, much less to discard, it requires a high degree of what may be termed stoicism to act as true wisdom dictates, and trample under foot that selfish pride, and make a single step towards reconciliation, which in all probability would be cordially met. It is the reluctance I may almost say self-abasement which one feels to take the first step which might be construed into an apology this sort of bitter sweetness which one tastes in nursing resentment when one feels only a little wronged, and the idea of compelling the other to make the first advance to a reconciliation is so consoling to this unworthy feeling which is our worst enemy that explains how it has happened that so many who have lived long .and happily together, and who really loved each other, have become finally estranged, and lived out their days in the gall of bitterness while the single pang which it would have cost to selfishness to make one single step toward reconciliation by either party would have secured to them domestic happiness all their days. None who have had large experience in our courts of justice, where domestic difficulties are too often exposed to the rude gaze of an unsympathizing crowd, can fail to recognize this as a true picture of what they have often witnessed and have as often deeply regretted. Now the very first step to be taken to avoid the danger to Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 209 arise from this kind of egotism, is to fully and determinately recognize the fact that human judgments differ as to what is right, just or proper, in a given case, even where third persons alone are interested; how much more then must we expect this to be true when we ourselves are interested when we become the judges in our own case? We must, then, first recognize the fact that we are just as likely to be in the wrong as the other party, although it may appear to us we are clearly in the right, and the other party is in the wrong. We must remember that the other may, with the same sincerity, believe us to be in the wrong and the abuse on the other side. Now, there is no pride of feeling involved when a couple are first married, and not a shade of a sense of even the most imaginary wrong is felt by either, in talking over this infirmity of human nature, and mutually agreeing to act in view of it and to crush out the feeling which it begets whenever it attempts to assert itself. But even this is not enough to avoid the possibility of fatal consequences; it must be further under- stood and firmly resolved, with a deep determination by each never to depart from the resolution, that if one should fail to keep the promise the other will not resent such failure, but will keep it all the more devotedly, with the most entire confidence that the party who had forgotten the promise and the obliga- tion will sooner or later come to recognize it. By carrying the understandings and promises to this extent, a double security is given for the settlement of future misunderstand- ings a double guarantee is given for the continuance of domestic happiness. How often all this, with many other views of mutual duty, 2io Our Courtship and Our Marriage. o was gone over between us, and how often we renewed our pledges to act as we then resolved, it would be impossible to tell. If it was as often said, as we sincerely believed, that we loved each other so dearly that surely no difficulty or misunderstanding could ever arise between us which could make it necessary to put in practice the line of conduct thus resolved upon, yet we both admitted that at least such resolu- tions could do no harm, and might even tend to avoid the possibility of such contingency ever arising. With all our confidence in the all-controlling influence which the deep affection we felt for each other, which was surely as deep and firm as ever two human beings could feel, scarcely three months elapsed before I had occasion to put in practice that very resolution to keep in both letter and spirit those very promises. While we were boarding with that same Mrs. Flusky, with a very pleasant mess, mostly young married people, I came in one evening very late for tea ; worn down with fatigue and oppressed with care, by which I felt almost crushed, and everything that was irritable in my nature was awakened by some occurrences which had been exceedingly provoking, and found the party at the table and nearly through their tea. I took the vacant seat beside my wife, perhaps with scarcely so cordial a greeting as usual, and yet without the want of it even attracting her notice. She made some inquiry which seemed to me in my state of feeling implied a shade of complaint, which at the moment seemed unreasonable, and I made an answer, the tone of which, if not the words, gave expression to that feeling. At least it was a departure from that uniform, Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 2 1 1 kind and affectionate tone, which she had always before heard from me. I saw in a moment she felt hurt; and the first impulse was to think that she was unreasonable to take offense at my answer, which was certainly civil, and when justly considered, was not unkind ; that she ought not at such a time to have asked a question which would bear such an implication, and that she was really becoming too exacting to take exception to my reply, to which she seemed inclined to give a wrong con- sfruction. I say such was my first impulse, under my irritation, when I observed that she had allowed her feelings to be so easily wounded, without reflecting that the more she loved me and the more tenderly and kindly I had always treated her the more sensitive must her feelings have been to the least appear- ance of unkindness from me. This was the prompting of that same selfishness or egotism of which I have spoken, and which, like the Devil's whisper, is ever ready to do mischief. Probably there was not enough of all this to attract the atten- tion of another one at the table. She made no reply, but soon excused herself and went to our room. A moment's reflection enabled me to become myself again and to see that now was the time to redeem the oft-repeated promise I had made during this voyage. Immediately I began to discuss the question on her side, when I at once saw how wrong I was. My love for her did not return, for it had never gone no, not a particle; but it now blazed up anew, and I overwhelmed myself with self-reproaches. My supper was soon ended, and I hastened to our room. As I feared, I found her in tears. In an instant I had her in my arms, and asked her forgiveness earnestly 212 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. and sincerely, and with many self-reproaches, and with many promises never to be guilty of another act of unkindness, if she would but forgive me that once ; and by way of excuse explained how I had been oppressed, vexed and harassed, which had made me almost beside myself, before I came in. In a single minute she was insisting that I had done nothing wrong, that I had not spoken unkindly to her, that she alone was to blame for not seeing that I felt badly, and for asking such a question at such a moment; that her place and her duty was to try to comfort me when I felt oppressed, and not by her indiscretion add to my burdens ; that she was the one who needed forgiveness, and not I. This wholesome controversy went on for some time ; but at length gradually tended to a calm discussion of the situation and a cordial approval of the course we had both taken after the little unfortunate incident had occurred, and drawing a picture of our future unhappiness had we taken a different course, which might have resulted in an actual breach, and finally in alienation. However, this was absolutely impos- sible where there was so much real love and respect as we felt for each other. Of course the conferences that had taken place on the brig were remembered and all talked over again, and all our promises and resolutions renewed and repeated, with -many more of a similar kind. I may add right here that nothing more serious than I have related has ever occurred between us. That really a cross word has never passed from one to the other during the more than thirty-four years we have lived together. What other woman could any man ever live with so long and say more ? Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 213 I have related this incident to illustrate the propriety of the suggestions I have made and the wisdom of the course I have recommended. I have, however, only suggested one of the very many points which we then considered, and which should be well considered and faithfully acted upon at the commencement of married life. It is no doubt a very important one, and never should be overlooked or departed from. It shows the true spirit which should ever animate the conduct of husband and wife toward each other, and which, if constantly adhered to by both or even either, will go very far toward insuring a happy family. Somebody has somewhere cautioned young wives against showing too much affection for their husbands or too much fondness for their society, lest they might presume too much upon the first, or soon feel satiety from the last ; that all evidence of their love, however ardent and sincere it may be, should be suppressed as much as possible. While I believe that few women have adopted this theory as the true foundation for domestic happiness, yet it is to be feared that it is too much acted upon practically; even to such an extent as to do violence to that affection which, if allowed its true development, would insure a full measure of conjugal bliss. If there is any thing in the world of which a man is covetous, it is the full, entire, unqualified, unlimited, unre- strained love of his wife, provided only he loves her. If he is indifferent to her, then, indeed, he may not covet her love, but will be better pleased with her respectful indifference; but if 214 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. he really loves her, nothing can be so painful, so really heart- crushing, as the least evidence of a want of return of that affection he so freely gives. The more evidence she can give him of her love, the more fondness she can manifest for his society, the more happy will she make him and the more will he delight to make her happy in return. It is not in human nature to bestow love for any great length of time and exact nothing in return. Love naturally begets love, or if it does not it must soon consume itself and die out, or else, if treated with contumely, the saccharine is converted to an acid. I would say to any wife, if she desires to secure her own happiness and to make her husband happy, she should not only love him with her whole heart, but study in every possible way to show to him that love. Cultivate and nourish it with the most assiduous care, and omit no proper occasion to testify it. Fear not that he will think you forward, or that your advances are unbecoming. Think not that your real feelings toward him should be in the remotest degree suppressed. It is a false modesty which imposes restraint upon the manifestations of affection between husband and wife. It is not delicacy but unpardonable prudishness which should dictate to a wife to manifest a reserve which she does not feel toward her husband. Of course the more delicately and tenderly her manifestations of affection can be exhibited, so much the better, so that no reserve, no hesitancy, no affectation of prudery be allowed to come in and qualify the manifestations of her love and impose restraint, the want of which is not inconsistent with refinement of thought and action. Ardent love may lead to what, to others, would be considered extravagant acts and expression. Look Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 215 upon such as only the more emphatic expressions of love and as such court them. Husband and wife should always strive as far as possible, to destroy all idea of duality, and to cultivate to the utmost extent an absolute unity or oneness, in feeling, in interest, in ambition, in thought, in conduct, in intercourse, in judgment, in tastes and in their estimate of the proprieties of life. The more they can be amalgamated, as it were, into one in confidence, interest and in tastes, the nearer will they attain that abnegation of individual existence, that obliteration of individual selfishness, which can and should only be found in the conjugal state, and which is the surest guarantee of com- plete conjugal happiness, which the least restraint, reserve, or embarrassment, when alone, must tend to a greater or less degree to destroy. Let the natural promptings of the affections, so far as they can tend to show the depth and strength of that love which is publicly avowed at the altar, and should never be denied by the remotest implication in private life, have their sway. Let no act of fondness which that love can prompt be ever suppressed, for all such acts will be treasured up as jewels in the casket of the heart, to be taken out and examined a thousand times, when necessity compels a temporary separa- tion. Nor should such separations, when unavoidable, be lamented, however painful they may be at the time. If the parties are constantly together every day of their lives, no matter how happy they may be in each other's society, they can hardly appreciate how much they do really love each other, while absence fans their love into a brighter flame, when such absence is constrained by a sense of duty. It is then the mind fondly reverts to every act of tenderness and love, to every 21 6 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. mark of kindness and affection, and self-promises are made and self-resolutions are formed to love more than ever before, to be kinder than ever before, to sacrifice more of self than ever before, to be more faithful, more true and more devoted than ever before, when happily they shall be permitted to be together again. Such separations should be no oftener and no longer than are necessary, for when they are unnecessarily enforced by either party a painful sense of neglect is liable to take the place of that stimulating influence on the affection which unavoidable separations may tend to promote ; and then there is a possibility of a revulsion of feeling, which dampens that ardor of our love, which no circumstance should be allowed to chill, even in spite of every effort and every wish to keep it bright and active. Love is said to be exacting, and so no doubt it is, but it is only exacting for love returned. When this demand is fully met when its cravings for such return are fully satisfied, then it becomes exacting no more, or for nothing else, but becomes generous, grateful and sympathetic ; ever anxious to testify its appreciation of the return received. It becomes forbearing, blind to faults which others would detect in its object, and even self-accusing. The husband can never tell his wife too often how lovable she is and how much she is beloved by him, and it is no less true that the husband can not receive too frequent assurances of the love which his wife bears him. On one other point I may add a word, although if you follow the suggestions I have made, you will have practically accom- plished what I am about to recommend. Let the wife study Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 217 by every possible means to make his home such that her husband will prefer to be there to all other places; so that when his business will permit he will turn his face toward his home with the highest satisfaction, and with a perfect con- sciousness that he will there meet a cheerful countenance, a cordial welcome, and a genuine sympathy. This is as easily done in the humblest cottage as in the most gorgeous palace ; and if the wife will have this object steadily in view, she will easily manage to contrive something every day which will add to the attractions of herself and her home. If, when the labors of the day are over, and he sets his face toward his house or his room, the complaining, reproachful face of a dis- contented wife presents itself to his imagination, he will turn away to find some excuse for longer absence, or his homeward steps will be reluctant and slow. She should not be too exacting for his society, nor need she be if she will but make herself and her home as attractive as she may ; he will delight in nothing so much as to spend his time with her. But the parallel duty of the husband is no less important or imperious. He should so bear himself that his appearance will always create a heartfelt joy. Let him always contrive some new way, if possible, every day, to add to the happiness and the contentment of his family, if it only be by look or word, or some fond act. How much sweeter the reflection, when his footfall is heard, that a heart within his door will leap for joy at his coming, rather than sink within her, dreading some unkind word or look when he comes. If he will but try to soothe her pains and cares, to lighten all her burdens, to relieve by warm- hearted sympathy at least if he can do nothing more her 218 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. anguish when it comes, study her tastes and inclinations yes, even her little fancies and always contrive how to gratify and humor them, if right, or correct them, if wrong, but in a way so kind and gentle that she will hardly know it, how grateful will be her feelings, how will she strive to meet his views in all things, and how complete may be their happiness ! But above all things, before you act even in the kind and gentle way suggested on the assumption that she is wrong, remember that you are not infallible, and indeed are as likely to be wrong in your judgment or your tastes as she is, so that the case must be very marked before you should even admit to yourself she has misjudged or is in the wrong. Husband and wife should consult together very often in that spirit which desires enlightenment, and not in a controversial way so that their judgments, their tastes, their estimates of the proprieties of life, and their views of all things which affect their interests and their personal relations, may harmonize as perfectly as possible. Although the husband at last must take the responsibility, especially in business matters, to which he devotes his time and thoughts more exclusively, while those of his wife are more especially engaged in her own domestic sphere, he may often find a relief and a consolation in consult- ing her, receiving her encouragement and her support, unless she be of a temperament to find fault and discourage him, for the gratification which fault-finding affords her, of which there will be no danger if she will but act up to the spirit of the advice which I have given her. It is not necessary, how- ever, that he burden her with all his troubles and vexations, espe- cially when she is weighed down with her own perplexities Ethics of Early Conjugal Life. 219 and embarrassments, which may often be the case, when he should tenderly apply himself to console and relieve her. Especially, let the most unreserved confidence and truth exist always between the parties. In both great and little things let no shade of duplicity or deception ever inter- vene. They should have no secrets of their own, which they would wish to conceal from each other; while there may be secrets, especially, which may be confided in a business way, which are not their own, which neither should desire to have disclosed by the other. But I repeat, as between them- selves, and as to matters which pertain to them personally, they should think and act toward each other as if they were really one. A window should be ever open in the breast of each, through which the other may at all times look and see the secret thoughts. I may not omit to mention one other point, which is too often overlooked, and on which I fear false notions are too often entertained. Whether in your private closet or in the presence of others, avoid every appearance of inattention or neglect, and always manifest that respect which you really feel for each other. How unnatural, nay, how disgraceful, it is for a man to treat the woman of his choice with less respect, with less consideration and with less attention after marriage than before, and yet how often do we see married people of respectability, in the face of the whole world, treat each other with an inattention, which would have been really offensive and would probably have broken off the match had it been man- ifested before marriage ; while in truth their affection, their feel- ings of kindness and their personal attachment doubtless 220 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. have been augmented by the new and nearer relation thus created. If they woujd exert themselves by kind attentions and pleasant words to please each other before marriage, how much more so should they endeavor to make themselves thus agreeable afterwards. Then is the time for them to appreciate that they are dependent on each other for happi- ness, more than on all the world beside ; and yet how many act as if the marriage ceremony releases them from all obliga- tion to make themselves pleasant to each other. They have charming smiles and pleasant words for all they meet, except for those for whom their smiles should be the sweetest and their words the softest and most interesting. Fatal error! Yes, married people sometimes act as if they thought it not reputable for them to manifest too much attention and respect for each other, and yet if they will but look about them and reflect a moment, they will remember that whenever they have observed a couple treat each other with more marked attention and respect than they did any body else, how much it increased their own respect for them, and how much it elicited the commendations of other observers; however, the fact that such a course attracts observation, tells us how lamentably rare is such a bearing toward each other by hus- bands and wives, at least when in the presence of others. If the father ever omits to manifest the highest respect for the mother, how can the children be expected to respect her? and so when we reverse the case. Nothing but a false notion of the conjugal relation, or a real contempt for his wife, could ever induce him to treat her in public, or in private, with less attention than he would a stranger, who has no claims upon Ethics of Early Conjugal 1 him, and for whom his feelings are nothing but indifference. I repeat, then, let both husband and wife ever manifest every attention and every respect for each other, and thus testify to all who see them the sentiments they really bear toward each other. When such relations of respect, confidence, harmony and good will exist between husband and wife, how joyfully will the sound of the footfall come, which brings them together again, even after the shortest separation. How sweet the incense which will ascend from that family altar, and what a halo of domestic happiness will hang over that hearth-stone ! This is the summary of the whole lesson I would inculcate to the wife: Let her never fear that her husband will think she loves him too much, or that she can give him too much evidence of the existence or the ardor of that love. Fear not that he will think you forward in the manifestation of your affection for him or your devotion to his happiness. Let your constant study be to contrive new ways to exhibit the depth and earnestness of your feeling. Give him your whole confi- dence, and conceal nothing from him, and make his home his paradise, for so are you constantly laying up treasures which will be counted over every day, and for which he will anxiously pay you the most exorbitant interest. To the husband, let me further say, that from the very be- ginning you should treat your wife with the softest tenderness, with the truest constancy and the most devoted love. Show her by your bearing that she possesses your whole heart, with all its gushing sympathies. The more evidence you give that you deeply love her the more happy will you make her and 222 Our Courtship and Our Marriage. yourself. Remember that woman's choicest jewel is love, and the brighter she sees it sparkle the more she will esteem it with the more joy will it fill her. We all love to be loved, and especially with that sort of love of which I have said so much. But it has been said that this sentiment is stronger in women than in men. Whether this be so or not I will not stop to consider. It is strong enough in the latter those of us who have hearts worth ke-eping and souls worth saving to make it indispensable to conjugal happiness, and should be regarded and gratified without artificial restraint and without reserve. Let her feel and know that she possesses your entire confidence, and she will be thus made worthy of it. Neither must be too exacting, and demand or ask too much. If either or both fall far short of the standard I have presented, it does not follow that they must live in discord or unhappily. We may always hope to see some yes, many, of the characteristics which I have pointed out as so excellent in a husband or a wife. Let these be nursed and cherished by both, or if not by both, then by either, and they will grow and expand, and bear rich fruits. Be patient, forbearing, indulgent, forgiving, confiding, respectful, refusing to take offense at any provocation, always striving to promote the pleasure and the happiness of your companion ; for by this course, if he or she is not a confirmed brute, the time will come, and is not far distant, when you will have a happy household. Let me conclude my dissertation by repeating that it is of the greatest moment that you commence right; that you embrace the first moments of wedded life to lay the founda- tion, and that you lay it so deep and strong that the seas of First Glimpses of a Ne