HIS LAST DAYS. 315 



Afterwards, as Professor Silliman appeared to be 

 decidedly better, a message to that effect was also 

 sent. On Sunday evening, the 20th, he received as 

 usual the group of relatives from the adjacent houses. 

 He said that he needed exercise, and took his cane 

 to walk. In passing the sofa, he took the hand of a 

 little grandchild, and walked with her for some time 

 through the rooms, appearing much interested in his 

 conversation with her. As he resumed his seat he 

 drew her still younger sister to him, and kissing her, 

 said : " The dear old gentleman is not very strong, 

 and feels too tired to walk any more to-night ; he has 

 walked with one dear little girl, and next Sabbath 

 night he will walk with this one." As usual, he had 

 a gentle word for every one. It was remarked that 

 during these last days some kind expression that 

 might well serve for a farewell to each of his near 

 friends, was uttered, seemingly by accident. In truth 

 such kind words, sincere as they were kind, might 

 have been noted on any other week, but now they 

 were not forgotten. On Monday he wrote a letter 

 of condolence to a neighbor, Mr. Wilcox, whose son 

 had died in the war. And on the same day he wrote 

 a note to his aged friend, Miss Whittlesey, who had 

 been his friend from childhood. In the lively letters 

 exchanged between him and early companions, sixty 

 or seventy years before, the name of this lady, a 

 general favorite in the social circle to which both 

 belonged, is frequently mentioned. Now she was 

 ninety-one years old, and very feeble in mind and 

 body. Yet she was able to appreciate the kindness 

 that dictated this letter. 



