ell as possible, but heard the news of the
Portland fire which almost killed me. All my father's manuscripts are
destroyed; we always meant to divide them among us and ought to have
done it long ago. I heard of any number of injudicious babies as taking
the inopportune day succeeding the fire to enter on the scene of
desolation; all born in tents. I am sorry my children will never see my
father's church, nor the house where I was born; but private griefs are
nothing when compared with a calamity that is so appalling and that must
send many a heart homeless and aching to the grave. I spent two weeks at
Williamstown, when George came for me, and the weather cooling off, we
had a comfortable journey here. We are perfectly delighted with Dorset;
the sweet seclusion is most soothing, and the house is very pleasant.
Mr. and Mrs. F. are intelligent, agreeable people, and do all they can
to make us comfortable. The mountains are so near that I hear the
crows cawing in the trees. We are making pretty things and pressing an
unheard-of quantity of ferns. We go to the woods regularly every morning
and stay the whole forenoon. In the afternoon we rest, read, write,
etc.; sometimes we drive and always after tea George walks with me about
two miles. I hope the war is not impeding your movements. I suppose you
will call this a short letter, but I think it is as long as is good for
you. All my dear nine pounds gained at Newburgh have gone by the board.
_August 20th._--I am sorry you had such hot weather in Paris, but hope
it passed off as our heat did. Dr. Hamlin's two youngest daughters have
been here, and came to see me; they are both interesting girls, and the
elder of the two really brilliant. They had never been here before, and
were carried away with the beauties of their mother's birthplace. I wish
you could see my room. Every pretty thing grows here and has come to
cheer and beautify it. The woods are everywhere, and as for the views,
oh my child! However, I do not suppose anything short of Mt. Blanc will
suit you now.

In April, 1867, the parsonage on Thirty-fifth street was occupied. It
had been built more especially for her sake, and was furnished by the
generosity of her friends. Her joy in entering it was completed by a
"house-warming," at the close of which a passage of Scripture was read
by Prof. Smith, "All hail the power of Jesus's name" sung, and then the
blessing of Heaven invoked upon the new home by that holy man of