heart has ever gone out in sympathy; but how much of this feeling has been due in later years to the trials of my youth and how much to natural love of my kind, I cannot tell. When young my health was a source of anxiety to my mother, and after I lost her, to those who interested themselves in my affairs, but without any great reason, I have always thought. As a young man my complexion was fair and my height not above the medium, but because of my active life I appeared somewhat taller than I really was. In face, my nose was aquiline, and much too delicate to buffet the world successfully, it was said by those wise in such matters. Of my mouth, it was full, and my chin inclined to be pointed rather than heavy. This last, the village phrenologist said, denoted a subtle disposition; but in this I think he was mistaken, though I may say that I ever possessed that peculiar sense which leads animals and some men to the adoption of measures necessary to their preservation, and this without their being conscious of its exercise. This trait is, however, an instinct, and not one of calculation. In great men and in large affairs something akin to it, but of a higher order, is called Apprehension. Thus the great foresee what is to happen, and doing so, turn it to their advantage. My mother said my mouth indicated a love of artistic things, and in this she was clearly right so far as her own sex was concerned. For I have always held women in such high esteem that the least among them have ever commanded my love and respect. As a lad there was not a blithe, sweet-eyed girl who pored over her lessons in the log schoolhouse by the forest stream, about which my early recollections cluster, whom I did not look upon as a divinity. This feeling of love and respect for the dainty companions of my youth has ever been my conception of women, and now, when no longer young, I look upon them as angels sent to eke out our life after it has been robbed of the delusions of youth. This feeling men share in common, and it is due to contrast, and more particularly to woman’s superior delicacy of mind and heart, and also to something else, I cannot tell what. For she is and ever will be an unfathomable mystery to us, try as we may to understand her. This account of myself I have striven to make as favorable as I can, and if it is partial, you will attribute it to pride, and not to vanity. For while all men may be proud, no one should be vain, and the first for the reason that it is not altogether conscience or the love of right that keeps men from wrong. Pride is a great factor in such matters, and so far as that is true this brittle cactus, so unjustly reviled by the thoughtless, should be fertilized according to our needs.