Life and Writings of Francis Huber, 127 



baked clay, which his ingenious son, always anxious to serve him, 

 had made for his use, were, during more than fifteen years, a source 

 of relaxation and amusement to him. He enjoyed walking, and 

 even a solitary promenade by means of threads which he had caused 

 to be stretched through allthe rural walks about his dwelling. In 

 following them by his hand, he knew his way, and by small knots in 

 the thread he was warned of the direction he was taking, and of his 

 exact position. 



The activity of his mind rendered these diversions necessary.- It 

 might have rendered him the most unhappy of men, if he had been 

 less favorably connected : but all who lived with him, had no other 

 thought tlian that of pleasing him and contributing to relieve his in- 

 firmity. Naturally endowed with a benevolent heart, how were those 

 happy dispositions too often destroyed by the collisions of the world, 

 preserved in him ? He received from all that surrounded him noth- 

 ing but kindness and respect. The busy world, the scene of so ma- 

 ny little vexations, had disappeared from his view. His house and 

 his fortune were taken care of without any embarrassment to him. 

 A stranger to public duties, he was in a great measure ignorant of 

 the politics, the cunning, and the fraud of men. Having rarely had 

 it in his power, (without any fault of his own,) of being useful to 

 others, he never experienced the bitterness of ingratitude. Jealousy, 

 even notwithstanding his success, was silenced by his infirmity. To 

 be happy and prosperous in a situation in which so many others are 

 given up to continual regrets, was accounted to him as a virtue. The 

 female sex, provided their voices were agreeable, all appeared to him 

 as he had seen them at the age of eighteen. His mind preserved 

 the freshness and candor which constitute the charm and happiness 

 of adolescence ; he loved young people, for with their sentiments his 

 own were more in accordance than with those of the aged and expe- 

 rienced. He took pleasure, to the very last, in directing the studies 

 af the young, and possessed in the highest degree, the art of pleas- 

 ing and interesting them. Though fond of new acquaintance, he 

 never abandoned his old friends. " One thing I have never been 

 able to learn" said he in his extreme old age, " and that is, to forget 

 how to love." Thus had he the good sense justly to appreciate and 

 enjoy the balance of advantages which were furnished him by the 

 very condition in which he was placed. He appeared to be afraid, 

 either of the loss of many of his illusions, or of the excitement of hopes 

 in which he might be deceived, for he always repelled the proposi- 



