Page:Life and Select Literary Remains of Sam Houston of Texas (1884).djvu/271

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Mrs. Houston's Literary Merit.
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give a shock to his constitution. They were only occasional at any period.

As a woman, Mrs. Houston was as remarkable as was General Houston as a man. True to principle, firm in her convictions, spiritual in her ideas of religion, devoted to her husband and her children, she considered the strict performance of the great duties of domestic life as an achievement of moral heroism. The good of the land were always welcome to her fireside, and cordially entertained at her hospitable board.

While thus absorbed in home duties, Mrs. Houston was busied with her pen; her private letters and her magazine contributions all being tinged with the one aim of her life; as the moral and religious guide of her children, and the guardian angel of her husband's private and public life. During his Senatorial career Houston was never so happy as in receiving her weekly letters, in reading portions of them to his trusted friends, and in writing his Sunday afternoon replies. The contributions of Mrs. Houston to the Mothers' Journal, of Philadelphia, were as highly prized by its numerous readers as by him who rejoiced that their sentiment and their suggestions were realized in his own household.

Eight children blessed their married life: 1st, Sam; 2d, Nancy Elizabeth; 3d, Margaret Lea; 4th, Mary William; 5th, Antoinette Power; 6th, Andrew Jackson; 7th, William Rogers; 8th, And. Temple; all grown and married, except the two younger ones, and all occupying commanding positions in society The following lines of poetry will evince respectable poetical talent and strong affection:


To My Husband.

December, 1844, on Retirement from the Presidency.

Dearest, the cloud hath left thy brow,
The shade of thoughtfulness, of care.
And deep anxiety; and now
The sunshine of content is there.

Its sweet return, with joy I hail;
And never may thy country's woes
Again that hallow'd light dispel,
And mar thy bosom's calm repose!

God hath crown'd thy years of toil
With full fruition, and I pray
That on the harvest still His smile
May shed its ever gladdening ray.