CHAPTER V

On going home from the University, life at "Lochleven" became very lonely for the young bachelor. His sister had married and his mother had gone to stay with her. He had planned to make the law his life work, and commenced its study at home, but the demands of the farm and his own uncertain health prevented the carrying out of this desire. A large number of leather-bound books on law in our old bookcase attest how thoroughly he had entered upon this task. 'Twas here that an agent more powerful than the law overtook him. Not only did his own loneliness, but the visits to Dinwiddie, began to impress upon his mind that, “It is not good for man to be alone." That he was far from devoid of sentiment is shown by a copy of the following, found among his papers:

"Extract from a poem of twenty-five stanzas, written by J. Quincy Adams to some ladies who requested his autograph on "Man wants but little here below, nor wants that little long." Goldsmith's Hermit.

I want (who does not want?) a wife,
Affectionate and fair,

To solace all the woes of life,

And all its joys to share;
Of temper sweet, of yielding will,
Of firm, yet placid mind,
With all my faults to love me still,
With sentiment refined.

I want a warm and faithful friend
To cheer the adverse hour,
Who ne'er to flatter will descend,
Nor bend the knee to power;

A friend to chide me when I'm wrong,
My inmost soul to see,

And that my friendship prove as strong For him, as his for me.

I want a kind and tender heart
For others' wants to feel,
A soul secure from Fortune's darts,
And bosom armed with steel;
To bear divine chastisement's rod,
And mingle in my plan
Submission to the will of God
With charity to man.

I want a keen, observing eye,
An ever listening ear

The truth through all disguise to spy,
And wisdom's voice to hear;

A tongue to speak at virtue's need,
In heaven's sublimest strain,
And lips, the cause of man to plead,
And never plead in vain.

I want uninterrupted health
Throughout my long career,

And streams of never-failing wealth
To scatter far and near;

The destitute to clothe and feed,
Free bounty to bestow,
Supply the helpless orphans' need,
And sooth the widow's woe.

I want the genius to conceive,
The talent to unfold

Designs, the vicious to retrieve,
The virtuous to uphold;
Inventive power, combining skill,
A persevering soul,

Of human hearts to mould the will
And reach from pole to pole.

I want the seal of power and place,
The ensigns of command,

Charged by the people's unbought grace
To rule my native land;

Nor crown nor sceptre would I ask,
But from my country's will,
By day, by night, to ply the task
Her cup of bliss to fill.

I want the voice of honest praise
To follow me behind,

And to be thought in future days
The friend of human kind;
That after ages as they rise,

Exulting may proclaim

In choral union to the skies

Their blessings on my name.

These are the wants of mortal man
I cannot want them long,

For life itself is but a span

And earthly bliss a song.

My last great want, absorbing all,
Is-when beneath the sod
And summoned to my final call-
The mercy of my God.

And oh! while circles in my view
Of life the purple stream,
And yet a fragment small remains
Of Nature's transient dream;
My soul, in humble hope, unscarred
Forget not thou to pray,

That this, thy want, may be prepared
To meet the Judgment Day.

In my possession is a very sacred little package of letters, but I am not going to publish them in this sketch; only a few extracts which throw light on the character of the man-a philosopher and keen observer, as well as a tender lover. I will take quotations from the letters in the order they were written; 'tis hard to do this without injustice to the writer: "Lochleven, 1870, "Just back from fox hunting, after consoling myself for a fruitless hard ride. by a pretty substantial lunch, to keep up the excitement in the absence of 'spirits' and to fulfil a promise made in a lucky hour I sieze my pen and communicate with a fe—, why, of course, a congenial spirit, if not a familar one. After my return from W.'s

wedding I felt lonely for the first time since I've been keeping bachelor's hall, and came very near crying out, ''Tis not good for man to be alone!' But a good night's rest relieved me, and since that time I have had no occasion for the exclamation. I have been as sober and independent as Diogenes, and hard at work. I find that nothing so cools a stripling's arder matrimonial as good, wholesome work, such as rolling logs, for instance, which has exercised me for the last fortnight. But, aha! I remember, the theme had almost made me forget what I intend to tell you. This report seems to be pretty widely spread. It came to Aunt Maria through two distinct channels; the one Dame Rumor, and Mrs. Marshall told her as a profound secret; and then, true to her sex, told Cousin N., as a profound secret, too, so that both of them knew it, but neither knew that the other knew it. 'So let the wide world wag as it will.' 'Amen,' do you say? As variety is the spice of life, we'll have another item."

In the first part of the next letter he teases her about her reported approaching marriage to Dr. Gnophx T., and goes on: "I should have written ere this, but that, in compliance with your invitation, I expected to have shortly with you a tete-atete, which would be infinitely more agreeable than writing. But, behold, when I arrived at ‘Oak Hill,' there were young ladies indeed, but they were all strangers. And, as after a windy ride of five hours,