"_My dear Sir_,--Your letter of the 9th with its highly prized contents is received. I have no words to express my feelings for your unsolicited gift and your kind offer to serve me in any way in your power. This world is a wheel, and I rejoice that the spoke you are on is so nearly at the highest point, though mine is nearly the reverse. I hope that I shall never again be the direct or indirect, innocent or guilty cause of loss to you; but most earnestly hope that I may yet have it in my power to make some small return. "There is no _legal_ claim against me of that enormous amount of debt in which, seven years since, I most unexpectedly found myself involved. Nevertheless, it is all as justly due as it was before the Commissioner discharged me, and it would be the greatest happiness I could enjoy in this world to pay every farthing. But of this I have no hope. I have a small income from property belonging to my wife, which, with great prudence and economy, will just about pay for our bread and salt, and I can hardly expect to ever earn another dollar. * * * * * "Pray pardon this long yarn of myself and accept the enclosed one thousand dollars, being the same amount which I requested our friend, Mr. Ashburner, to offer you three years ago, though he did not, I believe, only _half_ do it. Accept also my most hearty good wishes for your continued health and prosperity, a long life and a glorious reward hereafter, and believe me, "Most sincerely your friend, "CHARLES HOWARD. "CYRUS W. FIELD, Esq., Merchant, New York." "I now wished," the autobiography goes on, "to retire from business altogether, but at length I yielded to the solicitations of my junior partner so far as to agree to leave my name at the head of the firm and to leave in the business a capital of $100,000. But this was done with the express understanding that I was not to be required to devote any time to it." His lot now seemed altogether enviable. He had retrieved the losses incurred at the outset of his career; he could "Look the whole world in the face, For he owed not any man." Not only this, but he was a rich man, as riches were counted forty years ago. At all events, those who were dear to him seemed to be put beyond the reach of want. His home life was, as it always had been and always was to be, serene and untroubled. At the age of thirty-four, with his energy and his faculties of enjoyment unimpaired, he found himself able to retire from business, and to lead, if his nature had permitted him to lead, a life of leisure. The first use he made of his release from the cares of business was to project a long journey with his friend, Frederick Church, the distinguished landscape-painter. He left New York in April, 1853, for Central and South America. They took passage early in the month in a sailing-vessel.