another with a bonnet; one brought patterns of dry goods, with a request that Mrs. Lyman would purchase and bring home dresses for a family of five. And would she go to the orphan asylum and see if a good child of ten could be bound out to another neighbor till she was eighteen; and if so, would Mrs. Lyman bring the child back with her? Another friend would come in to say that her one domestic had an invalid sister living in Ware; and another a mother in Sudbury, on the stage route. When the stage stopped for breakfast or dinner, or relays of horses, would Mrs. Lyman run round and hunt up these friends, carry them messages and presents, and bring back word when she came home how they were,- it would make Sally or Amy so much more contented through the winter!

The neighbors walked into the library where the packing was going on; and, when all the family trunks were filled, my father called out heartily, "Here, Hiram, bring down another trunk from the garret, the largest you can find, to hold all these parcels!" And on one occasion, when all were finally packed, a little boy came timidly in, with a bundle nearly as large as himself, from another neighbor, and "would this be too big for Mrs. Lyman to carry to grandmother; mother says she needs it so much, this time of year?" "No, indeed," my mother would say; "tell your mother I'll carry any thing short of a cooking-stove." "Another trunk, Hiram," said my father; "and ask the driver to wait five minutes." Those were times when people could wait five minutes for a family so

well known and beloved. If a little behind time, our driver had only to whip up his horses a little faster before he came to the Belchertown hills; and when he came to those, the elders got out, and lightened the load, to facilitate the journey. What journeys they were! How full of romance and adventure! The first one I recall was when, at five years old, I was taken up out of a sound sleep at one o'clock at night, by my cousin Emma Forbes; dressed by her in a very sleepy state, she not failing to encourage me by telling me that I was a "good little kitten," who was going to Boston with her and my mother; then dropping asleep in her arms as soon as the stage started, and not waking till sunrise. And such a sunrise! I had never seen it before; and having in a childish way had my vague ideas of another world, I started up, and looking beyond the Belchertown hills, at the glorious horizon, I asked Cousin Emma if we were going to heaven.

My father and Uncle Howe always met with wonderful adventures on these journeys. When they stopped at the good breakfast at Belchertown, they were sure to meet some one they knew, who brought them tidings they had been waiting for. At Ware, later in the morning, a concourse of stages met from the west and south; and some of the passengers would be transferred to our stage for Boston. Then often, what handshakings, what lighting up of countenances, as friends parted for many years met in this seemingly providential way, and knew they were to pass at least twelve hours



in each other's company, within the friendly limits of the stage-coach! Now and then they met agreea ble strangers, who became friends for life; for on such a journey conversation flowed freely; all were enjoying that delicious freedom from business and household care, that is so favorable to the interchange of thought, and the comparatively slow progress of the coach over a country rich in beautiful scenery gave a peaceful flow to the ideas, not interrupted by the shrick of railroad whistles, or the sudden arrival at some crowded station.

I remember one such journey, where a distinguished politician opened a fire upon two worthy Quakers from Philadelphia, which brought out from them, though in gentlest terms, their anti-slavery sentiments. My father, being an old federalist,while he believed slavery to be a great crime against God and man,was still of the opinion that was held by many good men of his time, that it was a question that belonged to the South to settle for themselves; and that it was both useless and dangerous for the North to meddle with it. Yet he was disgusted at the manner in which the politician attempted to brow-beat the excellent Friends; and so manfully stood up for their right to their own opinions and to the expression of them, that thirty years later, when accident brought one of his children to their acquaintance, they expressed a most grateful remembrance of his courtesy and support through a day's journey that would have been made intolerable by the presence of their other companion. This was before the days of the abolitionists,

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-years before Garrison and Phillips had sounded the tocsin.

Their visits to Boston were enchanting to hear about; and when they returned home after an absence of two or three weeks, again the neighbors collected to hear the news. And as they sat around the blazing wood-fire, the evening after their homecoming, all the trunks unpacked and put away, and the return-parcels and messages delivered, all those children who had not accompanied them on the journey were allowed to sit up as long as they pleased. As one friend after another dropped in, the talk became most animated. To one they told of their dinners at Judge Shaw's, Judge Wilde's, or Judge Putnam's; or of the signs gathering in the political horizon, they had heard discussed. To another they descanted on the Sundays they had enjoyed; how the eloquence of Dr. Channing had uplifted their minds, and how their hearts had burned within them as they talked with dear friends on the rise and growth of liberal Christianity in New England. And then how many friends of their friends they had contrived to see, and how many salutations they brought to those less-favored neighbors, who could not go to Boston once a year as they did. Yes, these visits made a festival for the whole neighborhood as well as for themselves.


What wouldst thou have a good, great man obtain ?
Place, titles, salary, a gilded chain?

Or throne of corses which his sword hath slain?
Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends:
Iath he not always treasures, always friends,

The good, great man? — three treasures, love and light,
And calm thoughts regular as infant's breath;

And three firm friends, more sure than day and night,
Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.


Y father's best-beloved and most intimate friend was his cousin, Samuel Howe,- a man whose pure spirit and high character, united to an intellect. of unusual vigor, made him the choicest companion in the home circle. He lived at Worthington,one of the beautiful hill towns of Hampshire County, so situated as to enable the resident lawyer to practise in several countics. He had always been a frequent visitor at our house; and, as he had lost his wife a few months before my father's second marriage, and was left alone with two young children, it was natural for him to seek the solace of his friend's home, after my mother came there. What his society and friendship were I can only estimate by the life-long allusions to his judgment and his heart by both my parents, and to a memory always kept green to their latest day.

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