A Biographical Sketch of the Life and Character of Joseph Charless | Page 7

happy.
I could tell you a good many incidents of our early acquaintance –-of
our pleasure-rides in pleasant weather, in gig or on horseback, and of
our merry sleigh-rides in winter. Delightful recollections crowd upon
me, and, if I were given to novel-writing, I could weave them into a
very pretty little love-story; but then I would have to make myself the
heroine. There was a little Scotch song, however, that he used to sing to
me, and as it will afford me a sweet, sad pleasure to recall it, I will do
so, at least as much of it as I can recollect:
“Come over the heather, we’ll trip thegither All in the morning early;
With heart and hand I’ll by thee stand, For in truth I lo’e thee dearly,
There’s mony a lass I lo’e fu’ well, And mony that lo’e me dearly, But
there’s ne’er a lass beside thysel’ I e’er could lo’e sincerely, Come over
the heather, we’ll trip thegither, All in the morning early; With heart
and hand I’ll by thee stand, For in truth I lo’e thee dearly.”
I have before me now the first letter I ever received from him,
expressing what he had several times in vain attempted to speak. For
although he was at no loss for thoughts, or words in which to clothe
them, in ordinary conversation, yet, whenever he felt a desire to open
his heart to me on the subject of his love, he became so much agitated
that he had not the courage to venture, and finally wrote and sent me
the following letter:
After a brief and simple introduction, he says: "That I love, you is but a
faint expression of my feelings, and should I be so happy as to have
that feeling reciprocated by you, I pledge you the best efforts of my life
to promote your happiness. Nature, I fear, has wrought me in her
rougher mould, and unfitted me to appear to advantage in an

undertaking like this, in which so much delicacy of sentiment seems to
be required in these, our days of refinement. Such as I am-–and I have
endeavored to appear without any false coloring--I offer myself a
candidate for your affections, for your love. You have known me long
enough to find out my faults--for none are without them--and to
discover what virtues I may have (if any), and, from these, to form a
just estimate of my character.
"I feel that my future happiness, in a great measure, depends on your
answer. But suspense to me is the greatest source of unhappiness.
Naturally impatient and sanguine, I cannot rest until the result is known.
May I hope that my offer will be favorably received, and that hereafter
I may subscribe myself, as now, Your devoted, JOS. CHARLESS, Jr.”
If this seems like a "love-letter" to you, my dear children, it does not to
me, for it does not embody half of the love and devotion which I ever
received from my husband, from the time we stood at the hymenial
altar, until, in his last, faint whisper, while he gazed with unutterable
tenderness, he said, "I--love--you!"
But I must try to forget, while I am writing to you, my dear children,
that I am bereaved. I must not let my sorrows give a coloring to every
page, for I know how natural it is to the young to delight in pleasant
things, and to flee from that which is gloomy; and, besides, I cannot
leave a faithful impression upon your minds of what he was, unless I
enter into the spirit of the past, when our sweet home was full of joy,
and gladness.
And why should I not be joyous again? Have I not dear children to love
me, and is not my dear husband alive, and shall I not see him again? Is
not God still good, and has he ever tried me more than I am able to bear?
Was he not with me in the deep waters? "I know that in very
faithfulness Thou hast afflicted me."
Then let me cease my murmurings; or, rather, let me check my
yearnings for what I can never have again--a faithful, loving heart, to
bear with me my sorrows, and a strong arm to lean upon. Yes, there is a
strong arm upon which I can lean. May I have faith to make use of it!

There is a "Friend who sticketh closer than a brother," to whom I can
unburden my heart.
Affectionately yours, GRANDMA.
BELMONT, January, 1861.

Letter Five

My DEAR GRANDCHILDREN:
We were married on the 8th of November, 1831. No costly
arrangements were made for the occasion. The death of my sweet
mother having occurred a few months previous would alone have