I need not, in concluding, say much to you of the circumstances
that snatched from his family, from you, from the Church and the
community, such a man. The record of the whole event you will see in
the journals, secular and religious, which your Grandmother has so
thoughtfully preserved for you. I remember nothing that occurred in
St. Louis, during the fourteen years that I resided there, which
produced a more profound impression on the public mind, or so stirred
its hot indignation, as the death of Mr. Charless by the hand of the
assassin who slew him. Nothing, I believe, but the urgent request of
Mr. Charless, from his bed of death, prevented the community from
avenging themselves without the forms of law for the dark crime
committed. And when, at the request of Mr. Charless, the community
spared the life of the felon, there was all the sterner purpose that
Justice should be meted out to his crime by the hand of law. And no
jury could have been found in the city, who, if they had been so
disposed, would have ventured to acquit him on false or frivolous
pretexts, such as secured the acquittal of many a culprit.

No one felt that the death of the poor wretch who did the deed
was any atonement for what he had done, any more than a household can
feel that the death of the viper is any atonement for the life of a
favorite son it has slain. The viper is crushed and forgotten, the
child is remembered, honored and cherished--so it was in this case.
The execution of the murderer created no excitement; all that men
appeared to desire with regard to him was to know that he was executed,
and he was dismissed with loathing and detestation from all minds. I
think it exceedingly probably that there are multitudes in St. Louis
who could not, without an effort recall the name of Thornton--I do not
now myself remember his given name,--but there is not a little boy or
girl, there is not a citizen, living there at that time, who does not
remember JOSEPH CHARLESS. And I have been struck with the fact that a
number of persons who have been at my house in this State, and have
asked me, as they looked at your Grandfather's miniature that hangs on
my walls--Who is this? When I have told them, all remembered what
they had heard, or seen in the papers, of his virtuous life and tragic
death; but not one ever asked me the name of his assassin. So true to
nature and the orderings of Providence is the proverb of Solomon: "The
memory o