mer field of carnage and deadly strife. Where now wild flowers cover the ground with beauty, and birds in the silent trees fill the air with melody, where the stars shed a soft, holy light, and the universal nature covers the ravages of time with a mantle of turf,-was once the slaughter ground of a race rapidly passing

away.

After the battle of Tippecanoe, General Harrison removed his family to Cincinnati, and accepted the position of Major-General in the forces of Kentucky, then about to march to the relief of the North Western Territory.

Mrs. Harrison was thus left a comparative stranger in Cincinnati, with the sole charge of her young and large family of children during the greater part of the war of 1812. During this time, several of the children were prostrated by long and severe illness, and to this trial was added the painful anxiety attending the fate of her husband. But under these and all afflictions, Mrs. Harrison bore up with the firmness of a Roman matron, and the humility and resignation of a tried Christian mother.

In 1814, General Harrison resigned his position in the army and went to live at North Bend, fifteen miles below Cincinnati, on the Ohio. In the limits of this sketch it is impossible to give all the interesting details of Mrs. Harrison's life during her thirty years' residence at the old homestead. Many, very many of her acts of neighborly kindness and Christian charity will never be known on earth, for she shrank from any exposition of her benevolence.

General Harrison being much from home, engaged in public affairs, she was left in the control of her large family of ten children, and ofttimes the children of her friends and neighbors. Schools in that new and unsettled country were "few and far between," and Mrs. Harrison always employed a private tutor. The generous hospitality of North Bend being so well known, it was not surprising that many of the children of the neighborhood became inmates of her family for as long as they chose to avail themselves of the privileges of the little school.

Although at this time in delicate health, Mrs. Harrison never wearied or complained in the discharge of domestic duties, and forgot the multiplied cares she assumed in the thought of the benefit the children of others would derive from such an arrangement. She was sustained by her husband, and loved by her children and servants, and the burden was lightened spiritually, if not materially.

But here commenced the long series of trials which tested her character, and chastened her heart. During her thirty years' life at North Bend, she buried one child in infancy, and subsequently followed to the grave three daughters and four sons, all of whom were settled in life, and ten grandchildren. In view of these bereavements she wrote to her pastor, "And now what shall I say to these things; only, 'Be still and know that I am God.' You will not fail to pray for me and my dear son and daughter who are left. For I have no wish for my children and grandchildren than to see them the humble followers of the Lord Jesus."

Her influence over her family was strong and abiding, and all loved to do reverence to her consistent, conscientious life. Her only surviving son wrote in 1848, "That I am a firm believer in the religion of Christ is not a virtue of mine. I imbibed it at my mother's breast, and can no more divest myself of it than I can of my nature."

The same was true of all her children, and what errors they might embrace, they could not forget the religion of their mother, nor wander far from the precepts, for "whatever is imbibed with the mother's milk, lasts forever for weal or for woe." The following incident will show that her precepts and examples as a member of the church were not unappreciated by her hus band. In 1840, during the Presidential canvass, a delegation of politicians visited North Bend on the Sabbath. General Harrison met them near his residence and extending his hand, said: "Gentlemen, I should be most happy to welcome you on any other day, but if I have no regard for religion myself, I have too much respect for the religion of my wife to encourage the violation of the Christian sabbath."

In 1836, General Harrison was first nominated for the Presidency. Mrs. Harrison was much annoyed by even the remote possibility of his election. There were no less than three candidates of the old federal party in the field, and the triumph of either was almost an impossibility. Yet even this probability of having to break up the retirement of her old home at North Bend and be thrown in the station of fashion and position in Washington, filled the heart of Mrs.

Harrison with dismay. When the trio of candidates had defeated themselves and elected the champion of the Democracy, Mrs. Harrison felt heartily glad that her quiet was again restored, and she contemplated with renewed delight, the happy contentment of her western home on the banks of the sparkling flowing river.

In 1840, the Federal party had ceased to exist; the opponents of Jackson and the system which emanated from his administration had taken the name of the Whig party, and Harrison, the sagacious Governor of the Northwestern Territory, the successful General, and later the farmer of North Bend, was the chosen of the people, and the idol of his party.

The canvass, for months before the day of the election, carried the most intense excitement and unbounded enthusiasm throughout the Union. The pecuniary difficulties of the country, during the past administration, left the people an opportunity for political gatherings. Financial prostration and hopeless bankruptcy paralyzed the various trades; and in the workshop, as in the counting-house, in the streets, in the fields, in vacant factories and barns, in the mechanic's, as in the artisan's room, were heard debates of the pending question. Everywhere long processions with mottoed banners were seen marching to music, and throughout the land was heard the famous old "Tippecanoe and Tyler too," and "Van is a used up man," campaign songs. Never before or since was such interest manifested, and never again will there be the same admiration expressed for any aspirant to

public honors. Log cabins, illustrative of General Harrison's early days, were "raised " everywhere, and "companies" visited from place to place, equipped in handsome uniforms, and accompanied by bands of music. The whigs struggled manfully to elect their candidate, bringing to their service powerful appeals in the forms of stirring song, executed by youths in the streets, and dwelling continually upon the resumption of specie payment, revival of languishing trade, and public retrenchment and economy. The result was such as every one expected. General Harrison was elected President by a large majority, and John Tyler of Virginia was chosen Vice President. This triumphant victory brought no sense of pride or elation to Mrs. Harrison. She was grateful to her countrymen for this unmistakable appreciation of the civil and military services of her husband, and rejoiced at his vindication over his traducers, but she took no pleasure in contemplating the pomp and circumstance of a life at the Executive Mansion. At no period of her life had she any taste for the gayeties of fashion or the dissipations of society. Her friends were ever welcomed to her home, and found there refined pleasures and innocent amusements, but for the life of a woman of the world she had no sympathy.

General Harrison left his home in February, and was received in Washington with every demonstration of respect, and welcomed by Mayor Seaton in a speech delivered at City Hall. It was raining hard when he left the railroad depot, yet he walked with his hat in his hand, accompanied by an immense concourse of peo