ut
failed to derive any benefit from it, and died in that city on the 6th
of July, 1835.

His body was conveyed to Richmond for interment, and he now sleeps by
the side of his wife in the Shockoe Hill Cemetery in that city. The spot
is marked by a plain slab of marble, over which the weeds and the rank
grass are growing, and on which may be read the following inscription,
dictated (saving the last date) by himself:

"John Marshall, son of Thomas and Mary Marshall, was born 24th of
September, 1755; intermarried with Mary Willis Ambler, the 3d of
January, 1783; departed this life the 6th day of July, 1835."

[Illustration: JAMES T. BRADY.]

CHAPTER XXVI.

JAMES T. BRADY.

The father of James T. Brady was born in Ireland, and came to this
country during the second war with England, and just after his marriage.
Mr. Brady opened a school for boys, in New York, soon after his arrival,
and it was in that city, on the 9th of April, 1815, that his eldest son,
JAMES TOPHAM BRADY, was born. Other children followed, there being seven
in all, two boys (James T., and Judge John R. Brady) and five girls. Mr.
Brady, senior, was a man of rare abilities, and his wife was a woman of
great personal beauty and high character, "one of those mothers," says a
distinguished gentleman, who knew her, "whose quiet virtues shed their
blessed influence over families, and are felt so long in their durable
effect upon children."

James T. Brady grew up with a sound, vigorous constitution, and at an
early age was put at his studies in his father's school. He was only
seven years old when he began, and though so young, he worked hard,
storing his "big head"--which seemed too big for the little feet below
it--with knowledge. He endeared himself very greatly to his
school-fellows, and formed with several of them friendships which
continued through life. "He was so noted," says one of his former
school-fellows, "for his loving kindliness as a boy, that it almost
obliterates every other recollection." His amiable traits developed with
his years. He always delighted in acts of kindness, and could never bear
to give pain, even to the most insignificant animal or insect. He
detested hunting and fishing, which he regarded as a needless sacrifice
of life. Yet while so tender and gentle in his disposition, he was brave
and fearless, unusually independent, and, above all, as mirthful and
fond of a jest at fifty as at sixteen.

Before he had