But the close of this long career of honor and of usefulness was now at hand.  In 1839, he lost the wife whose tenderness had cheered the labors and whose gay intelligence had brightened the leisure of his existence.  She had lived the delight of that intimate society to which she had confined faculties that would have adorned any circle whatever; and she died lamented in proportion by it, and by the only others to whom she was much known,—­the poor.  Her husband survived her but two years,—­expiring at his son’s house in Raleigh, where he was on a visit, in April, 1841, at the age of eighty.  He died as calm as a child, in the placid faith of a true Christian.

Still telling his story in the order of dates, the writer would now turn to the younger Joseph Gales.  As we have seen, he arrived in this country when seven years old, and went to Raleigh about six years afterwards.  There he was placed in a school, where he made excellent progress,—­profiting by the recollection of his earlier lessons, received from that best of all elementary teachers, a mother of well-cultivated mind.  His boyhood, as usual, prefigured the mature man:  it was diligent in study, hilarious at play; his mind bent upon solid things, not the showy.  For all good, just, generous, and kindly things he had the warmest impulse and the truest perceptions.  Quick to learn and to feel, he was slow only of resentment.  Never was man born with more of those lacteals of the heart which secrete the milk of human kindness.  Of the classic tongues, he can be said to have learnt only the Latin:  the Greek was then little taught in any part of our country.  For the Positive Sciences he had much inclination; since it is told, among other things, that he constructed instruments for himself, such as an electrical machine, with the performances of which he much amazed the people of Raleigh.  Meantime he was forming at home, under the good guidance there, a solid knowledge of all those fine old authors whose works make the undegenerate literature of our language and then constituted what they called Polite Letters.  With these went hand in hand, at that time, in the academies of the South, a profane amusement of the taste.  In short, our sinful youth were fond of stage-plays, and even wickedly enacted them, instead of resorting to singing-schools.  Joseph Gales the younger had his boyish emulation of Roscius and Garrick, and performed “top parts” in a diversity of those sad comedies and merry tragedies which boys are apt to make, when they get into buskins.  But it must be said, that, as a theatric star, he presently waxed dim before a very handsome youth, a little his senior, who just then had entered his father’s office.  He was not only a printer, but had already been twice an editor,—­last, in the late North Carolina capital, Halifax,—­previously, in the great town of Petersburg,—­and was bred in what seemed to Raleigh a mighty city, Richmond; in addition to all which strong points of reputation, he came of an F.F.V., and had been taught by the celebrated Ogilvie, of whom more anon.  He was familiar with theatres, and had not only seen, but even criticized the great actors.  He outshone his very brother-in-law and colleague that was to be.  For this young gentleman was William Seaton.