nds. She was a most lovely person, in body and mind,
and in his eyes the paragon of womanhood. He was young, romantic, full
of sensibility, and his love for this beautiful girl filled his whole
life. He was poor and could not marry, but he had many arguments with
himself about the propriety of doing so even without an income. "I
think," he finally writes, "that these early and improvident marriages
are too apt to break down the spirit and energy of a young man, and make
him a hard-working, half-starving, repining animal all his days." And
again: "Young men in our country think it a great extravagance to set up
a horse and carriage without adequate means, but they make no account of
setting up a wife and family, which is far more expensive." But while he
was looking about on every side for some way to better his fortunes,
that he might take to his home this woman he loved so tenderly, her
health began to fail, and in a short time he was deprived by death of
her companionship. His sorrow was life-long, and it was a sorrow which
he held sacredly in his own heart. He never mentioned her name, even to
family friends, and they learned to avoid any allusion to her, he was so
overcome with emotion when merely hearing her name spoken. This was in
his early youth, and throughout a long life he held himself faithful to
her memory,--never, it is believed, wavering once in his allegiance.
Thackeray refers to this as one of the most pleasing things he knew of
Irving.

It was at this time that he was writing the "History of New York." He
wrote afterward:--

"When I became more calm and collected I applied myself by way of
occupation to the finishing of my work. I brought it to a close as
well as I could, and published it; but the time and circumstances
in which it was produced rendered me always unable to look upon it
with satisfaction."

His countenance long retained the trace of his melancholy, and he was
ever after a more subdued and quiet man. After his death a beautiful
picture and lock of hair were found among his private papers marked in
his hand-writing, "Matilda Hoffman." He also kept by him throughout
life her Bible and Prayer-Book. He lay with them under his pillow in the
first days of his anguish, and carried them with him always in all lands
to the end of his life. In a little private notebook intended only for
his own eye were found these words after his death: "She died in the
beauty of her y