Biography and family record of Lorenzo Snow/Letter XIV

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SUPPLEMENT. 579

LETTER XIV.

At St. Louis. Fine scenery. Visit relatives. Poem. Obtain genealogies.

Acknowledgment.

As a connecting link between my brother's letter written in London, and his reception on his arrival at home, we copy the following from "Cor- respondence of Palestine Tourists:"

ST. Louis, JUNE 20rH, 1873. Editor Woman's Exponent:

Dear Lulu. When writing you last, which was on the ocean, I did not anticipate either time or opportunity for communication with you again while on my way home, hut in consequence of the extreme piety of this infidel age, we are in this great, live city, detained over Sunday. We arrived here yesterday morning from Kansas, where we found our youngest brother, whom we had not seen for more than twenty years; he was then a boy, now the father of a large and promising family, and located on a farm one half mile square, in a beautiful rolling prairie country, commanding a view, both grand and magnificent, extending as far as the eye can reach. I think I never saw a finer or more picturesque landscape scenery, while the soil is rich and very productive, situated five miles from Osage Mission, the railroad station for that section.

But more about St. Louis. We, i. e., my brother Lorenzo and I, intended leaving last evening, but are detained till 10 to-night, the hour admitted as the close of the Sabbath, which, despite the sacred rest allotted the railroad trains, is decidedly a day of bustle, recreation and hilarity. While writing, my ears are saluted with almost every sound imaginable: bands of instrumental music playing in various directionr; the rumble of street cars, which are loaded to their utmost capacity, constantly on the track, conveying gay pleasure seekers to different points; picnics by land and picnics by water being a prominent order of the day; groups of people are promenading the sidewalks, while processions are marching on the streets; but the railroad trains must not profane the Sabbath.

When we left New York, my brother and I proceeded directly to the place, in the State of Ohio, where he was born, and where both were brought up the place of our childhood and youth also neighboring towns and counties. I had been absent thirty-seven years; my brother had

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returned once within that time. Very many of our relatives and friends have "gone the way of all the earth" since we left, and everything of remembrance has yielded to the strokes of the battle axe of changeful Time.

Our former loved associates

Have mostly passed away; While those we knew as children

Are crowned with locks of gray.

We saw Time's varied traces

Were deep on every hand Indeed, upon the people,

More marked than on the land.

The hands that once with firmness

Could grasp the axe and blade, Now move with trembling motion,

By strength of nerve decayed.

The change in form and feature

And furrows on the cheek Of Time's increasing volume,

In plain, round numbers speak.

And thus, as in a mirror's

Reflection, we were told, With stereotyped impressions,

The fact of growing old.

Those of our relatives and acquaintances who remain received us with affectionate cordiality; indeed it was one continued ovation, from first to last, through the counties of Portage, Geauga, Cuyahoga and Loraine, where we went; even children born since we left that country came dis- tances to see and converse with us, the former friends of their deceased parents. Having been so long abroad, we felt anxious to return home; at the same time, being desirous of seeing as many of our friends and relatives as possible, we visited night and day, going from place to place in rapid succession. I am inclined to think that so much visiting was never before done in so little time.

We succeeded in gathering many genealogies both of the dead and the living; and we think, in many instances, have renewed friendships, revived and created associations that will extend into eternity. We feel that God is with us, and humbly trust that His blessing will attend our efforts.

ELIZA R. SNOW.