r_ (Mr. Causici), and an _author_ (himself).

"The Mr. Owen mentioned above is the very man I sometimes met at Mr.
Wilberforce's in London, and who was present at the interesting scene I
have often related that occurred at Mr. Wilberforce's. He recollected the
circumstance and recognized me, as I did him, instantly, although it is
twelve years ago.

"I am making progress with the General, but am much perplexed for want of
time; I mean _his time_. He is so harassed by visitors and has so many
letters to write that I find it exceedingly difficult to do the subject
justice. I give him the last sitting in Washington to-morrow, reserving
another sitting or two when he visits New York in July next. I have gone
on thus far to my satisfaction and do not doubt but I shall succeed
entirely, if I am allowed the requisite number of sittings. The General
is very agreeable. He introduced me to his son by saying: 'This is Mr.
Morse, the painter, the son of the geographer; he has come to Washington
to take the topography of my face.' He thinks of visiting New Haven again
when he returns from Boston. He regretted not having seen more of it when
he was there, as he was much pleased with the place. He remembers
Professor Silliman and others with great affection.

"I have left but little room in this letter to express my affection for
my dearly loved wife and children; but of that I need not assure them. I
long to hear from you, but direct your letters next to New York, as I
shall probably be there by the end of next week, or the beginning of the
succeeding one.

"Love to all the family and friends and neighbors. Your affectionate
husband, as ever."

Alas! that there should have been no telegraph then to warn the loving
husband of the blow which Fate had dealt him.

As he was light-heartedly attending the festivities at the White House,
and as he was penning these two interesting letters to his wife, letters
which she never read, and anticipating with keenest pleasure a speedy
reunion, she lay dead at their home in New Haven.

His father thus conveys to him the melancholy intelligence:--

"_February 8th, 1825._ My affectionately beloved Son,--Mysterious are the
ways of Providence. My heart is in pain and deeply sorrowful while I
announce to you the sudden and unexpected death of your dear and
deservedly loved wife. Her disease proved to be an _affection of the
heart_--incurable, had it been known. Dr. Smith's letter, accompanying