‘Madame.’  A death, perhaps, and this threw you upon the world and made you what you are; it was always intended that you should make yourself; therefore, it was well that this calamity occurred as early as it did.  You will never die of water, although your career upon it in the future seems well sprinkled with misfortune.  You will continue upon the water for some time yet; you will not retire finally until ten years from now....  What is your brother’s age? 23—­and a lawyer? and in pursuit of an office?  Well, he stands a better chance than the other two, and he may get it; he is too visionary—­is always flying off on a new hobby; this will never do —­tell him I said so.  He is a good lawyer—­a very good lawyer—­and a fine speaker—­is very popular and much respected, and makes many friends; but although he retains their friendship, he loses their confidence by displaying his instability of character....  The land he has now will be very valuable after a while——­ ‘S.  L. C.’  Say 250 years hence, or thereabouts, Madame——­ ‘Madame.’  No—­less time—­but never mind the land, that is a secondary consideration—­let him drop that for the present, and devote himself to his business and politics with all his might, for he must hold offices under Government....

After a while you will possess a good deal of property—­retire at the end of ten years—­after which your pursuits will be literary —­try the law—­you will certainly succeed.  I am done now.  If you have any questions to ask—­ask them freely—­and if it be in my power, I will answer without reserve—­without reserve.

I asked a few questions of minor importance-paid her and left-under the decided impression that going to the fortune-teller’s was just as good as going to the opera, and cost scarcely a trifle more —­ergo, I will disguise myself and go again, one of these days, when other amusements fail.  Now isn’t she the devil?  That is to say, isn’t she a right smart little woman?

    When you want money, let Ma know, and she will send it.  She and
    Pamela are always fussing about change, so I sent them a hundred and
    twenty quarters yesterday—­fiddler’s change enough to last till I
    get back, I reckon. 
                                Sam.

In the light of preceding and subsequent events, we must confess that Madame Caprell was “indeed a right smart little woman.”  She made mistakes enough (the letter is not quoted in full), but when we remember that she not only gave his profession at the moment, but at least suggested his career for the future; that she approximated the year of his father’s death as the time when he was thrown upon the world; that she admonished him against his besetting habit, tobacco; that she read. minutely not only his characteristics, but his brother Orion’s; that she outlined the struggle in his conquest of the river; that she seemingly had knowledge of Orion’s legal bent and his connection with the Tennessee land, all seems remarkable enough, supposing, of course, she had no material means of acquiring knowledge—­one can never know certainly about such things.