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[212] rejoice at the disappearance of the snow. . . . . . But when July suns begin to scorch, we shall escape to our Patmos, and look for a visit from you then, at any rate. It is the pepper-corn rent due from you, annually, by prescription; and we have no mind to give it up.

This is the last letter that remains of a truly delightful correspondence; and in the one to Mr. Kenyon, which stands next in these pages, Mr. Ticknor describes the sudden shock, and the striking scenes, with which the warm and satisfying friendship was ended, that had grown closer between him and Mr. Legare as years went on. Such companionship was, indeed, hard to relinquish, and it was sad to part from the hopes for their country that Mr. Ticknor had rested on his friend's talents and principles.

To Mr. John Kenyon, London.

Boston, June 29, 1843.
dear Kenyon,—By each of the last steamers I received a letter from you, the first a long one, both most refreshing and delightful, and full of your kind and faithful nature. I wish I could answer them both as they ought to be answered, cheerfully, brightly, heartily. But I cannot. I am full of troubled thoughts, even I may say I am full of sorrow. An old and much-loved friend has just died in my house, in my arms,—Mr. Legare of South Carolina, our Attorney-General; and, at the moment of his death, filling, ad interim, the place of Secretary of State, which Webster's resignation six weeks ago had left vacant.

He came here, with the President and his whole Cabinet, to the great national celebration of the completion of our monument on Bunker's Hill, when Webster, on the 17th of June, made a grand speech to all the authorities of the country, and 40,000 or 50,000 besides. But poor Legare could not be there. He was taken ill the same morning, with what seemed a simple obstruction of the bowels. Medical aid was called at once. I was with him that day and the next,—during which his sufferings were great,—and removed him to my house, where he survived but thirty-six hours, without having at any moment obtained the slightest relief. On a post mortem examination, it was found that no relief was possible from the first . . . .

The suddenness of the death,—he was ill but seventy-eight hours, and we were really anxious about him only eighteen,—and the greatness

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