Letter Ten

My Dear Grandchildren:

I see in casting a glance back, that I have passed over a good

deal in the life of your grandfather, which will, perhaps, be of

interest to you; without which, at any rate, this sketch would not be

complete. And I intended, when I closed my last letter, to commence

this with his career as a business man, and to continue the narrative

to the close of his life; and then to give you a distinct account of

his influence and deeds in the Church, and in the world, as a

Christian. But I do not know, upon further reflection, that it is best

to divide up his life in that way; and, indeed, it seems to me rather a

difficult and unnatural task to do so, for he strictly followed the

injunction of the Apostle: “Be diligent in business, fervent in spirit,

serving the Lord.” The dividing line, therefore, would be hard to

find, if there was one at all.

And these letters, which are a pleasant recreation to me while I

write them–-and of profit, too, I hope, as I carefully review the life

of him who, “though dead, still speaketh”–-would, I fear, become a

task, should I change the simple and pleasing plan I have adopted of

recalling the past, with the incidents as they occurred, and from them

selecting such as I think will best unfold to your view the real,

every-day life of him, which, if fairly seen, cannot fail to plant in

your young hearts a just pride for such an ancestor, and a holy desire

to walk in his steps. With this view, I will retrace, and bring up,

briefly and in order, the omissions to which I have alluded.

You remember, I mentioned to you the fact, that your grandfather

commenced life, as a business man, by becoming the partner of his

father in the drug business. His father had, a few years previously,

given up his interest in the “Missouri Republican” to his son Edward,

and commenced a business which was new to him, and that upon a small

capital. He found it so profitable, however, that he prevailed on

Joseph to abandon his profession, (the practice of which he had but

just commenced), and to join him, believing that it would ultimately be

more to his advantage to do so. From the profits arising from this

business–-which regularly increased, with the increase of the city,

and that of the country, from the rapid emigration to the Western

States-–combined with his success in an occasional speculation in

land, I doubt not, if “grandpa” had been at all given to the love of

money, or had been ambitious of attaining to great wealth, and had bent

his powers of mind and body in that direction, he would have reached

the desired goal, perhaps to becoming a millionaire.

But very different from this were the tendencies of his nature.

He appreciated money as the means of adding to the sum of human

happiness; and, while he was by no means reckless in the use of it, it

was a source of great pleasure to him to have it in his power to

indulge his family in having what they desired and in living as they

pleased, and still to have something over to distribute to the

necessities of the indigent. To the Church of Christ he cheerfully

contributed to the extent of his ability, esteeming it one of his

highest privileges. Pursuing this course, his business meanwhile

widening, and constantly becoming more profitable, in the year 1837 or

’38, he decided to take a partner, and offered the situation to my

brother Henry, which was gladly accepted. After this, (I do not know

exactly how long), he purchased a valuable piece of ground in the city,

upon a part of which “the firm” determined to build an oil and lead

factory. This proved to be a very expensive and arduous undertaking;

and, although it promised, after being fairly established, to be a most

profitable investment, yet the capital of “the firm” was not sufficient

to complete and to carry it on successfully until it should reach a

self-sustaining point, without doing serious injury to “the store,” by

depriving it of the necessary capital for its success.

During this state of things, which grew worse every day, my

husband discerned a portentous cloud in the sky of his commercial

prosperity, which resulted after days and nights of anxiety and

overtaxed strength of body and mind, in a low state of health and

spirits that almost unfitted him for his accumulated business, which,

nevertheless, he continued to prosecute with avidity. This was about

the year 1841. I do not recollect how long his ill health lasted, but

I well remember how his flesh went away–-how pale he was–-how he

perspired at night, from nervous prostration, and how his skin seemed

to cleave to his bones. He was still amiable and uncomplaining; but

his elasticity, his free-hearted joyousness was gone.

After pressing him for some time to tell me his troubles and

difficulties, and sympathizing with him because of them, until a far

deeper concern took possession of me on account of his health, and,

finding that moderate expostulations did not better things, I

determined to make an effort by trying a wife’s skill in arousing him

from this state of despondency, which threatened such serious

consequences; for I might well feel that fortune would be nothing to me

without my husband-–my husband as he ever had been. And “if the worst

came to the worst,” if he only had sufficient means to pay his debts,

(which he said, without doubt, he had), I cared for nothing better than

to begin life afresh, with such a husband as I had, with health, youth,

business capacity, and a good reputation.

This conversation was not without effect; and he determined, by

way of recruiting, to “knock off” from business, and to make an

excursion into the country. This little trip–-which was not simply

without aim, other than for his health, as he had some business to

attend to on the way-–acted like a charm, by restoring his wasted

energies and his cheerfulness. He returned, in ten or fifteen days,

more like himself than he had been for months. After this, he soon

recovered entirely; and never again did he lose his equanimity for

more, perhaps, than a day or two at a time, although the dreaded blow

did come, but not before he had taken a step in the divine life, which

served to buoy him up above the ills of this checkered existence.

During the year 1839, about five years after we became members of

the Church, your grandfather was ordained “Ruling Elder” in the Second

Presbyterian church. We united with the “First Presbyterian church”

(which I believe, I told you in a previous letter), which was then the

only one in the city, but were induced, from a sense of duty, to go

out, with a few others, to assist in strengthening a small colony that

had been struggling for existence almost from the time it had left the

mother church, some two or three years previous. In the building up of

this church he was one of its most efficient agents. Besides having

the duties of an Elder to perform, he was appointed a Trustee, and,

with others, was very active in planning, and carrying forward to its

completion, a large and expensive building, bearing a heavy part of the

debt of it for years, until the means were provided for his relief,

which was not until long after he had met with heavy pecuniary losses.

He was regularly in his place at all the meetings of the church, both

for spiritual and secular purposes.

Now, my dear children, if you have conceived an idea, from the

insight I have given you, of the numerous occupations of your

grandfather, that he must have been bustling about, having so much to

do--hurrying things at home, and having no time for pleasure or

recreation-–you are greatly mistaken. A day rarely passed that he did

not take a ride with his family, or some member of it, to “the farm,”

(except during the period of his ill health, when he oftener sought

repose in the afternoon), enjoying, with the fresh air, exercise, and

charms of the country, the society of those so dear to him. He never

came home with a surly look–-like some people who want to make an

impression that they have the world on their shoulders-–to talk about

hard work, and hard times, or disagreeable matters, or to recount all

the wonderful things he had done, or had to do. But, with a step and a

countenance that seemed to say, “What a blessed and happy man I am!”

his presence always brought with it happiness and peace. He was not a

great talker, but he generally had something pleasant to say, or an

interesting anecdote to relate; for, with a keen perception of the

ludicrous, he possessed a talent for telling anecdotes admirably well,

and a humor that was irresistibly pervasive. No one could help feeling

its influence, and being all the happier for it.

I wish I could remember some of his anecdotes, and do them

justice in the relation; but I know the attempt would be futile: for

there was so much in the look and manner that gave a zest to his

conversation, and rendered it attractive, that it would be impossible

to convey a correct idea of it in words. None can feel, or fully

appreciate it, without having had the privilege of being in his

presence. A friend, to whom he was much attached, and at whose house

he frequently visited, mentioned to me, since his death, that he and

his wife had, from their early acquaintance with him, been in the habit

of referring often to what “Mr. Charless” would say, recalling his

conversation, and talking so much about him, that one day he asked,

“Wife, how is it we cannot help talking of Mr. Charless?–-what is

there about him that impresses us so? It is not really what he says,

but the way he says it. It is his humor, his benevolence of manner,

his inimitable pleasantry, etc.”

With these qualities, I need not say that he was an acquisition

to society. He enjoyed it at home or abroad; at the evening party, or

with a few friends around the social board. With a genial nature, he

had a facility for adaptation, so that it was easy for him to feel

perfectly at home, and unrestrained, with all classes and conditions of

men, young or old, gay or grave. He was particularly fond of young

people, and generally had a “little sweetheart” among the girls, with

whom he would occasionally carry on a spirited flirtation.

In the fall of 1841, immediately after his period of dejection,

and consequent ill health, your grandfather and myself mutually agreed

that it would be best for us, by way of lessening our expenses, to sell

our furniture, and break up housekeeping for a few years. My health,

which had never been good since that severe illness, of which I have

spoken, was the palpable cause; for my husband had often expressed a

desire to try the effect of rest from the cares and fatigue of

housekeeping, and now, that one sister and two of my brothers were

married and settled, there was not difficulty in the way of our doing

so. This proved to be a very fortunate step, for at the time things,

almost anything, sold well. The city was prosperous, and everybody

felt rich. Our furniture, of which we reserved sufficient to furnish

two bed-rooms, besides our valuables of plate, etc., sold for as much,

some of it for more, than we paid for it when new. And in one year

from that time, suddenly, there was a monetary pressure, which brought

every kind of property down to less than half of its value or original

cost. It was one of those pecuniary tornadoes which occasionally sweep

through the whole length and breadth of the land, levelling and

blighting everything as it passes, putting a stop to the wheels of

commerce, and bringing terror into almost every family. It came with

an astounding effect upon St. Louis. Many who felt themselves rich

were in a few days reduced to a state of poverty, not having the means

wherewith to pay their honest debts.

The firm of “Charless & Blow” were compelled to “suspend

payment.” This reverse came upon them like a shock, for,

notwithstanding my husband’s fears, a year or two previous, with regard

to his mercantile affairs, he had informed me, but a short time before,

that he had no doubt now but that they would be enabled to get through

with the difficulties that had been pressing him down; for, as he

expressed it, “we begin now to see our way clear.” They had had no

apprehensions with regard to their endorser (for whom they also

endorsed), for “his house” was one of the oldest and (it was thought)

one of the most opulent in the city. But when the fact was known that

Mr. T had failed, and when his creditors called upon the firm of

“Charless & Blow” to respond to his notes, which were then due, it was

too much for them. At first my husband (pale from emotion) thought all

was over!–-all for which he had been toiling for years; reduced to

poverty, his reputation as a merchant, perhaps, greatly weakened; and,

what was worse still, (not knowing the extent of his losses by Mr. T.),

he might not be able, after sacrificing everything he had in the world,

to pay his debts!

In a crisis like this, developments are exceedingly rapid, and

revulsion of feeling just as much so. The excitement is too intense to

endure delay. The best and the worst must be known, if possible, and

that at once. It was soon ascertained, therefore, in the case of

“Charless & Blow,” that their loss, by the failure of our good and

honorable old friend, was not much; and the chief difficulty with them,

as with all other sufferers, lay in the loss of confidence between men,

and the consequent scarcity of money in circulation.

Your grandparents passed one troubled night in consequence of

this event, in which sleep–-“tired nature’s sweet restorer”-–forsook

them. But the next afternoon found them taking a drive in grandpa’s

buggy, calmly talking about their new circumstances, and resolving,

with a courageous heart, to meet them, whatever they might be. Of

course, I did all I could to encourage him, (else I would not have been

worthy the name of wife); became very self-sacrificing for a lady–-willing

to part with my tea service, and all my silver-ware-–any and

everything I had of value, except my bridal gifts; and then began to

speculate upon how very nice it would be to live in a neat little

cottage, etc., etc. For I was not too old to be romantic; and I do

really believe now, as I recall my enthusiasm on the subject, that I

would have been disappointed had anything occurred to prevent me from

exhibiting to my husband how cheerfully I could submit to misfortune.

No such test came; for the very next day a widow, who had deposited a

few hundred dollars with “the firm” for safe keeping, hearing of their

reverses, called to get her money. They had none; and my husband,

remembering my offer, sent a messenger, with a note, requesting me to

send the tea-service, with which to secure her. Cheerfully–-for I was

glad it was in my power to secure the widow against loss, and to

relieve the mind of my husband to some little extent-–but with a

beating heart, (for this was a birth-day gift from him), I parted with

my beautiful tea-service, and have never seen it since. It was sold to

pay that debt.

Our dear old mother was greatly afflicted because of our reverses

in fortune, and wept like a child; but her amazement was to see me so

unmoved. I thought then it was Christian submission that enabled me to

bear up so well; but I see now there was a great deal of human love,

and sympathy, and human pride, too, mixed with it.

Although we were not keeping house, at that time, we were very

delightfully and happily situated, for we were boarding (as an especial

favor) at our eldest brother’s. He had a sweet wife, and they lived in

their beautiful new house, which, years after, “grandpa” purchased. It

was there your dear mamma passed her young lady days-–where she was

married-–where her little sons, Charless, Louis and Edward, were born;

and where their loving grandpa breathed away his precious life. But

the same reasons which made it necessary for us to submit to loss and

inconvenience, made it incumbent on my brother to sell his residence.

Consequently, we accepted the kind invitation of our mother to occupy a

part of her house; and, by strict economy in every practicable thing

-–paying her a very low price for our board, which the old lady would

receive, but “not a cent more”-–we passed three of the happy years of

our life, at the end of which time, we had regained a considerable

amount of our losses; and, what was better still, your dear grandfather

had become firmly and prosperously re-established in business, without

having lost an atom of his reputation as a judicious and energetic

merchant.

“The suspension” of Charless & Blow did not result in a complete

failure, by any means. They solicited an examination into their

affairs, exhibited their books, making a complete and full exposition

of the condition of their business, and it was unanimously agreed upon,

by the committee chosen for the purpose, that it would be greatly to

the advantage of their creditors for “the firm” not to close up, but to

continue the business, each binding himself to extract, for the two

succeeding years, only a small (stated) sum for private use, from the

proceeds of the store.

As soon as the adverse condition of “C. & B.” was relieved, and

they had regained their former position-–which, I think, was in about

two years from the time of the crisis-–they made up their minds to

dissolve partnership: one to take “the store;” the other, “the oil and

lead factory.” Accordingly, terms of dissolution were drawn up. Mr.

Charless, being the elder, had the privilege of choosing, and, after

reflection, decided upon retaining the store. My two younger brothers

afterwards became his partner in the business, and remained as

“Charless, Blow & Co.” until dissolved by the death of their beloved

senior.

This is a long letter, my dear children, and I will close it,

with the promise of letting you know something more about our three

years’ sojourn at your great-grandmamma’s: in which I hope to show you

how happy we can be under adverse circumstances, and how much less the

evil of “coming down in the world” is, than generally is supposed.

Affectionately yours, GRANDMA.

A Biographical Sketch of the Life and Character of Joseph Charless In a Series of Letters to his Grandchildren · 第 19 / 32 题