126 A Walk from 



remembrances in their souls as precious souvenirs of a 

 good man's life. So earnest was his desire to do these 

 things in secret, that his own family heard of them 

 only by accident, and from those whom he so greatly 

 helped with his kindness and generosity. And when 

 known by his wife and children, in this way, they were 

 put under the ban of secrecy. This it is that makes 

 it so difficult to delineate the home and heaven side of 

 his character. Those nearest to him, who breathed in 

 the blessing of its daily odor, so revere his repeated and 

 earnest wish not to have his good works talked of in 

 public, that, even now he is dead and gone, they hold 

 it as a sacred obligation to his memory not to give up 

 these treasured secrets of his life. Thus, in giving a 

 partial coup d'ceil of that aspect of his character which 

 fronted homeward and heavenward, one can only glean, 

 here and there, glimpses of different traits, in acts, 

 incidents, and anecdotes remembered by neighbors 

 and friends near and remote. Were it not that his 

 children are withheld, by this delicate veneration, from 

 giving to the public facts known to them alone, the 

 moral beauty and brightness of his life would shine out 

 upon the world with warmer rays and larger rayons. 

 I hope that a single passage from a letter written by 

 one of them to a friend, even under the injunction of 

 confidence, may be given here, without rending the veil 



