Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1859-12-08
"sesrching the old chronicles, and ens6e1o

'-scdICniaS tbc oiu ufohiCicS, duu eng
on he HE of Columbus, often wrote four
teen or fifteen hours out OF the tive nty- -four -
He said that whenever he bad forced his
mind unwillingly TO work, the product xas
worthless; and he invariably threw it away
and began again; "for." as he observed, "an
essay OF chapter that has been only ham-
ssered out is seldom good for snythiig. Al
authors right time to work is when his
mind is aglow; when his Imagination is kin
dled-these are the precious moments; let
him wait until they come, but when they
have come. let him make the most of them. :"
HIS LAST WORK.
referred to his last and greatest work;
the Life Of Washington. and asked if he
felt, on finishing il, any such sensation as
Gibbon is said I'd have experienced over the
last sheet of the Dec line and Fall. Here
piled that THE whole work had engrossee
his mind 10 sbeh degfee. that, before he
wss aware, he had written himself into
feebIeness of health; that he feared, in the
midst of his labor, that it would break him
down before be could end it; that when at
last the final pages wee written, he gave
the manuscript to his nephew to be con-
dhcted through the press; and threw him.
self back upon his red-cushioned lounge
with an ,ndescribable feeling Of feliet! He
added that The great fatigue of mind,
throughout the whole task, had resulted
from the care and pains required in the con.
struction and arrangement of material Is. and
not in the mere literary composition of the
successive chapters.
no MORE booEs.
On the ipsfiuf wall hung the engraving
of Fael's picture of Scott and the Con-
temporaries;" I alluded to it as presenting
a group OF his former friends.
YES" ssd he, 81 knew every man Of
them but three; anl now they are al gone"
"Are the portraits good.'' inquired.
"Scott's head" he replied, ais well drawn,
though the EXPRESSION lacks something of
Seott's fofce; Campbell's is toierable; Lock-
hart's is the worst. Lockhart, said he, .was
a man OF very delicate organization, but he
had more manly look than in the picture"
"You should write one more book"
hinted. Z
"Whst is that?"
"Your "reminiscences of those literary
friends''
"Ah." he exclaimed, ''lt is too late now!
| shall never take the pen again; have so
e nt;rely given Up writing, that even NY
best friends letters lie unanswered. / must
have rest. No more books now!"
HAPPY OLD BACHELOR.
He referred to the visit the week before,
frem Mr.. Willis, whose letter he had Just
been reading in the Home Journal.
am most glad" said he, ''ihat Mr..
Willis remembered my nieces; they are my
and nurses; they take such
good care of me that really am the most
fortunate old bachelor in the world. Yes,
he repeated, with merry emphasis, 'the
most fortunate old bachelor in all the
world."
IL was delightful to witness the anima-
ton OF his manner, and the heartiness of
his gratitude, as he continued to relate how
they supplied all his wants-gave him his
medicine at the right time, without troub
hing him to look at the clock fof himself
called him down to ked and
shawled him for his morning ride-brought
him his hat for his fine weather walks.-and
in every possible way, humored him in every
possible whim!
IL call them sometimes MY nieces, ,""bdt
oftener my daughters!"
HIS Love or cHiLpnsN AND THEIRS OF MIN
As arose to 60. he brought from corr
fier of the room a photograph Of little girl,I
exhibiting it with great enthusiasm. 1t was
a gift from little child, who had come to
see him every day during his sickness. The
picture was accompanied with note printed
III large letters with lead pencil, by the
little correspondent. who ssid she was too
yohng to write. He speke with great vi
vacrty of his childish visitor. "Chil dren,"
said the old man, ..are great pets; am very
fond Of the little cteatures."
REjUvInATED.
As came away, the old gentleman bum
died his shawl about him, and stood few
moments on the steps. A momeftary burst
of sunshine fell on him through the break
ing ciouds. In that full light he looked still
less like an sld man than in the dark parlor
by the shaded aihduw. His form was
slightly beht, but the Quiet humur Of the
early portraits was still lingering in his