"And when the stream
Which overflowed the soul was passed away,
A consciousness remained that it had left.
Deposited upon the silent shore
Of memory, images and previous thoughts,
That shall not die and cannot be destroyed."
For three years longer lowered the lurking war-cloud, and I, among so many
others, felt its baneful shadow. During this time I made Chicago my
headquarters, taking occasional trips upon the various railroad routes
converging there.
Finally I ventured upon a trip to Louisville, Ky., and, while it was my
first introduction to that place, so cordially was I received by its
citizens, so much was done to place me at ease, that I could but feel that
I was revisiting a familiar spot and receiving the greetings of old-time
friends; and, in spite of the heavy war pressure, it was financially the
most successful visit I ever made, having sold five hundred volumes in
the short space of two weeks, a fact in itself sufficient to exemplify the
pervading spirit of its society, not one of whose members gave grudgingly,
but with unhesitating and cheerful alacrity.
Thence I repaired to the "Blue Grass Country," the garden spot of
Kentucky, and to the city of Lexington, the reputation of whose beautiful
women has reached from sea to sea and from pole to pole, and the name of
whose hero, Henry Clay, has made the heart of our nation throb with
exultant pride. I was also a stranger there, yet I resolutely repaired to
the Broadway, its principal hotel, trusting to the hospitality of its
citizens. Nor did I "count without a host," for Mr. Lindsey, the
proprietor, received me with courtly cordiality, installing us in an
elegant suite of rooms upon the parlor floor, assigning us a servant in
constant attendance, and urging us to feel at home. At breakfast the
succeeding morning he greeted us with the pleasant tidings that he had
already sold sixteen volumes of my book, after which he came to our
apartment with a huge market basket, which he insisted upon filling with
books, adding that _I_ was too delicate to go out with them myself. This
was a second time filled and emptied, and before dinner there was placed
in my hands the proceeds of the sale of one hundred books.
My companion, amazed at his success, begged of him to let her know the
secret, whereupon he said, laughingly: "Well, you see, I am a Democrat and
a Free Mason. I talked politics to one, gave the society sign to another,
and mixed a little religion with all. So I could not fail to succeed."
I could but feel, however, in spite of his jest, that his innate goodness
was the Midas like touch, and that he bore in his own heart the
"philosopher's stone," transforming all into gold.
It did not become necessary for me to appear in the streets of Lexington,
yet I reaped a rich harvest of gain, and, above all, found a mine of
wealth in the warm, true, loving, chivalric souls. Nor did the kindness
cease at the fountain-head, for the little ones of Mr. Lindsey's family,
laden with bead work, walked the streets of the city, trafficking for my
benefit, returning with little hands empty of trinkets, but filled with
money.
To crown all this kindness I was only allowed, upon leaving, to pay half
the usual price for board, receiving letters of introduction to the
Capital House, of Frankfort, whose proprietor extended the same liberality
of terms, and whose citizens kindly and freely patronized me.
Going to Paris, I received so many favors that I never think of Kentucky
and its noble sons and daughters without a thrill of loving gratitude.
Mr. Lindsey requested me to write to him upon my return, and, after the
lapse of a long time, I did so, receiving a reply bearing the painful
tidings that, by security debts, he had been bereft of all his earthly
possessions, but was hopeful of regaining all. Surely such noble souls
should not be left in the cloud while so many sordid, selfish natures sail
upon a sea of success.