When his children remonstrated that he disgraced them by fol­lowing "the profession of a dentist to serve a number of old maids," Peale replied: "I am so sensible of the vast advantage to have these deficiencies overcome, how pleasant it is to be able to masticate any kinds of viands, to assist pronunciation, and to enjoy a sweet breath, and enjoying these comforts myself, it will hurt my feelings to refuse my aid to others."

During 1826 he parried an attack from his son Titian as follows: "Ought I not to do any sort of work that is not dishonourable in order to clear myself of debts? Do you know that I am capable of any employment more likely to relieve myself of debt than that of dentist? Is it discreditable to me to continue a work in which I be­lieve I am serving my fellow-mortals? . . . Have I not done the best according to my judgment and abilities towards all my chil­dren? And lastly, am I not entitled to live at my ease and pursue such employment as may please my fancy during the remainder of my life without the censure of my family?"

The sons whom Peale had put in charge of his museum tried vainly to make him retire entirely from the management, insisting they could make more money if he did not interfere; they wanted to add exhibits that lacked scientific interest, but seemed likely to draw crowds. As long as he lived the painter refused to allow them to lower the high standards he had set; After his death, however, his sons reduced his great institution to little more than a dime peep show. Even at that it failed during the 1840's; many of its exhibits were bought by Barnum,

During Peale's old age, the sons complained that he did not pay them enough for managing the museum, but he could not have been more liberal, for he was very poor. On April 7, 1821, he wrote to Rubens: "I was reluctantly induced to give an order on you for the poor tax of last year. ... I have only seventy-five cents at present." Although he finally had to sell the farm that gave him so much pleasure, he remained cheerful until his third wife died and he was forced to live with his disgruntled son Titian, whose wife, in the opinion of the other children, paid little attention to his "per­sonal comforts." Then he felt very lonely. "Man," he wrote in his diary, "as is the case with other sociable animals, requires a com^: panion, and although I am eighty-six years of age, [I] feel the loss of a female of my bosom." He expected to live twenty-seven years longer, for he had worked out an infallible system of reaching what he considered on the best scientific grounds the natural age of man, one hundred and twelve years. Under the circumstances, he naturally determined to marry again. It was only a matter of finding a suitable partner.

During December 1826, according to Peale's last diary, a Mr. Morris told him that he "knew a woman that Was exactly such as would suit me. She is a most accomplished woman, sensible, amia­ble, and would delight in the studies I enjoyed." She was fifty-three or fifty-four, and a teacher at the Deaf and Dumb Institution in New York. As Morris sang her praises, Peale became afraid she would not have him. " 'But,' said my friend, 'Miss Stansbury is poor, and with all her accomplishments she is humble.' This gave me the hope that I might succeed in obtaining such a companion." Morris wrote him a letter of introduction, but Mrs, Morris "de­clined reading it and said she would not have anything to do with it; hence I concluded that she did not much approve of the pro­ceeding."