In a letter written to my mother soon after this sad event my father
says:

"May God give you strength to enable you to bear and say, 'His will be
done.' She has gone from all trouble, care and sorrow to a holy
immortality, there to rejoice and praise forever the God and Saviour
she so long and truly served. Let that be our comfort and that our
consolation. May our death be like hers, and may we meet in happiness
in Heaven."

In another letter about the same time he writes:

"She was to me all that a mother could be, and I yield to none in
admiration for her character, love for her virtues, and veneration for
her memory."

At this time, my father's family and friends persuaded him to allow
R. S. Weir, Professor of Painting and Drawing at the Academy, to paint
his portrait. As far as I remember, there was only one sitting, and
the artist had to finish it from memory or from the glimpses he
obtained as his subject in the regular course of their daily lives at
"The Point." This picture shows my father in the undress uniform of
a Colonel of Engineers [His appointment of Superintendent of the
Military Academy carried with it the temporary rank of Colonel of
Engineers], and many think it a very good likeness. To me, the
expression of strength peculiar to his face is wanting, and the mouth
fails to portray that sweetness of disposition so characteristic of
his countenance. Still, it was like him at that time. My father never
could bear to have his picture taken, and there are no likenesses of