HE journey from New-York to Boston is tiresome where there is so little ventilation.

"T"

I like an open window. We reached Cambridge before six and were received most lovingly and cordially by Dr. and Mrs. Walker, where we feel at home and as happy as this world can make us, away from our true home in Lamartine Place.

66

Lucy, of course, came away without her work. Strange and neglectful in her mother to suppose she would remember all, so linked together in her thoughts are the scraps of fancies, to the exclusion of practical things. I wish sincerely said work could be sent by Miss Grimké, who will be here next Second Day. Do, please, try, that she may be usefully employed; otherwise, she will be obliged to appear as a trifler. She would accomplish a great deal if she had it.

"I found my pens and right thankful I was for them. To write with metal is simply torture. There was nothing of special interest on the way,

beyond the fact that one lady, who sat in front, handed me four delicious pears. She greeted me as an old acquaintance, and so pressed me that I was compelled to accept. She could not have thought I looked starved, and why she was so generous, I cannot tell; but know the pears were good and grateful."

"We shall have ever so much to say when we get home, but to find time now seems impossible. Lucy went boating on Fresh Pond last evening, while I passed the time with Mrs. Lowell. The day was passed with great satisfaction with Aunt Maria and David in their Wayland Nest.* Aunt Maria was very affectionate and we had a very pleasant time. Will tell you more of the attractions of the place, as well as its needs, when I see you. Now, I am every moment looking for Mary Stearns, who is coming to take us to Medford.

"Before I leave Cambridge, (which will be tomorrow, for Salem,) let me bear afresh, a testimony, which is not necessary, I know. Dr. Walker is the most sensible, reasonable and true man alive. He thinks just right on everything. He was charmed with Miss Grimké, and Mrs. Walker walked out with her to see Susie Lesley. Was it not funny to see them tripping through the College grounds?

"Read this to your father, that he may not say, 'oh, what writing!' Uncle David and Aunt * David Lee and Lydia Maria Child are here referred to.

Maria asked all sorts of questions about you; had read The Poor Fiddle Maker, and thought it a lovely story. Sally may feel complimented when she hears that the story was read by Aunt Maria and not yet Dr. Bellows' Sermon.

"I must say with love to my mate, my housekeeper, the assistant editor, and her mate, and kind messages to the helps of the household, and a word commendatory of Lucy Collins,

"Goodbye, A. H. G."

"We left Dr. Walker's yesterday, having had ten delightful days, peaceful as Heaven. There were angels near, who whispered acceptable truths, and I was made the happier. I saw a labouring man at work in the College Yard. I dared to ask him for the key to 'Stoughton,' which he soon brought me. I soon made my way to dear Willie's room, where I passed an hour unknown to any.

Every friend I met with, looked a remembrance of him, and their many manifestations spoke loudly of their love and tenderness. We had a very pleasant call from Mrs. Dr. Estes Howe, and we regretted that in our absence one day, the Doctor called to take us a drive. He passed an hour with us one morning. I was very sorry that Miss Pomeroy was away, as well as some others whom we desired to see. I am well content, however, with the treasures we gathered, which will serve us until we come again. We must leave many things

until we see you.

Our visits to

and

They are

you will know more of later. generous, good people, and when we learn of their ways, and do the good they are ever doing, we may afford to speak of little faults of manner. Let us look more at the hearts of people. I really think we have had so many pleasant ones about us, that we are not self-sacrificing, but really selfish ; not ready enough to lend a helping-hand and ready ear, to those less favored than ourselves. I remember the busy hands and heads, and that we cannot do all things.

66

Hoping to see you before long, and that your burdens are light-that your father's ways tend toward rest, remembering that the light of day is needed to work well, I bid you farewell."

TO ALL.

I never yet found a man right in all things; neither a woman. These remarks are for the thought of my dear unmarried daughters, who have come up in their own way pretty much, and I am jealous lest their lovers may mislead them; so prone are girls to become possessed of the absurd notion that it is a wife's duty to submit even to the waywardness of her husband. God forbid that our free children should fall into such an error !

"You will have my love through every change. Grant me admiration too. I stand in need of all the strength you can spare, for I am very sensible of my own shortcomings. Let us dispense to each other such as we have,

"I hope you can read what. I have so hastily written with Hepworth's old quill, mine having gone to Salem. Your father is a splendid pen maker. I am indebted to his talent for every idea that comes into my head."

TO HER SISTER SUSAN.

"Ist mo. Ist, 1860.

"A Happy New Year to thee is all I can do. I'm under limits now, but if I should get up in the world, as I hope to for the sake of others, I shall remember that I have fallen short at this time. One thing I have the pleasure of saying, which is that I'm not in need of anything, having enough to eat and something to wear, and, if it is not elegant, it is consistent throughout. No one garment better than another. In that respect I certainly outdo all my neighbors."

TO LUCY.

About 1860.

"Let us begin a new life, my dear Lucy; saving our pennies to make the pot boil and not wasting in trifles. I hold to the right of indulging, to a certain very limited extent, (with our present want of means) in heart pleasures, for I work and live for the past, present and future. I should mourn to let the past go, with all that was so beautiful and dear to us; therefore, let us cherish the remembrance, and make ourselves as happy as possible under adverse circumstances. I think it is worth