" The Ruins of a Mind." 255 



Dr. Bachman was a delegate to that body. In the 

 latter part of April, he left Charleston in a sailing 

 vessel bound to New York, accompanied by his 

 daughters, Jane and Lynch . He writes to his family 

 in Charleston, from the Audubon home : 



MINNIE'S LAND, May llth, 1848. 



The girls say that they have heard " the music 

 of the minstrel's nose." As I sit on an arm chair, 

 with my feet on the hot fender this chilly evening, 

 I am half inclined to think that they were, in part, 

 right ; for I feel a little drowsy just now I had 

 better try to shake off lethargy by writing a few 

 lines home. But how shall I collect my thoughts 

 amid the din and confusion that prevail around me; 

 yet I like to see these happy faces and hear their 

 merry laugh. 



I found all well here, as far as health is concerned. 

 Mrs. Audubon is straight as an arrow, and in fine 

 health, but sadly worried. John has just come in 

 from feeding his dogs. Audubon has heard his 

 little song sung in French, and has gone to bed. 

 Alas, my poor friend Audubon ! the outlines of his 

 countenance and his form are there, but his noble 

 mind is all in ruins. I have often, in sadness, con- 

 templated in ruin a home that, in other years, I 

 have seen in order and beauty, but the ruins of a 

 mind once bright and full oi' imagination, how 

 much more inexpressibly melancholy and gloomy. 

 But why dwell upon these? I turn away from the 

 subject with a feeling of indescribable sadness. * * * 



The weather has been rainy for the past four days, 

 but this afternoon it was clear, but quite cold. The 

 Spring here is further advanced than I expected to 

 find it, the fruit trees are in full bloom, and the 

 grass of a dark green. The woods and the grounds 



