without any remonstrance from a horrified verger. Mrs. Wheaton's love for fine scenery was deeply gratified by her little Swiss journey, and her pocket diary is full of exclamations over its magnificence. They went by boat to Vevay, then by diligence to Berne, to Basle. Leaving Switzerland, they passed through Strasburg, Baden, Heidelberg, and Frankfort, and then down the Rhine to Cologne, "a day of great interest," and via Brussels back to London. They had still one pleasant duty remaining before they sailed for home. Before leaving Norton, the citizens of the village had held a public meeting, Mr. Annes A. Lincoln, Jr., Moderator, in which an address had been prepared to be presented by Mr. Wheaton to the town of ChippingNorton in England, whence the early settlers of the American Norton had set forth. The address was accompanied by a copy of the history of the town, and a map of the township. Accordingly, on their way to Liverpool, the Wheatons stopped at Chipping-Norton, and Mr. Wheaton delivered all the gifts into the hands of the Mayor, who later returned an address of thanks, and with it, on behalf of his townsmen, sent a lithographic view of the town of Norton, England, to the town in the United States, though apparently the lithograph was never received. The Wheatons took passage on the Great Eastern, sailing August 16. The passage home was easier than that out, but that Mrs. Wheaton had not quite conquered her timidity appears from an entry in connection with some sports of the sailors on deck. "I feared the ship might suffer from neglect of duty, as so many of the hands were engaged." They landed in New York August 27, and reached home in the evening of August 29, where they received an enthusiastic welcome from the servants, who had everything in good order for them; from the "dear Matty," who had superintended all affairs in their absence, even to sending flowers from the garden constantly to the friends Mrs. Wheaton had been in the habit of remembering, and devoting their currants to making currant shrub for the sick soldiers; and from Mr. and Mrs. Beane ;1 doubtless, too, from the "Jerry" (whether dog or horse, we do not know) to whom, in one of her letters, Mrs. Wheaton sends a "loving pat on the head." On the Sunday after the return home, Mrs. Wheaton notes staying after the church service "to see the presentation of gifts to Edwin Barrows and five others going to war," Mr. Barrows being the member of the present board of Seminary trustees who has now been longest in office. Thus 1 Mr. Beane, who had married Miss Knight, was at that time pastor of the Trinitarian Congregational Church. the Wheatons were again brought face to face with the war. On September 17, Mrs. Wheaton describes a Soldiers' Tea Party, with the volunteers at the supper table, and her great astonishment when her neighbor, Rev. Mr. Lothrop, presented a "delightful photograph album" to herself and Mr. Wheaton. Inspired, perhaps, by her experience in Paris, she, with Mrs. Holmes, joined a French class at the Seminary under Professor Du Bois, whom many of the alumnæ will remember as an entertaining Frenchman who had invented what he believed to be a short cut to French conversation, based on the thorough mastery of the verbs. Mrs. Wheaton was now 53 years old, but she bought a French Testament and went to work with enthusiasm, forgetting, however, none of her regular duties, - or irregular ones either, for her diary often notes, "Sewing for the soldiers,” etc. And yet on the last night of 1862 she writes in her diary: "Oh, that this year bore a better account of my stewardship. 'Slothful servant' may well be written against my record." Then she adds, "To-morrow we hope 3 or 4 millions of slaves will be set at liberty by the President, A. Lincoln. Proclamation as a 'military necessity."" CHAPTER VIII WIDOWHOOD "EVERY tree and shrub dressed in New Year's Bridal of pure snow. The Neck Woods was surpassingly beautiful. I rode with Husband through it." This is the entry in Mrs. Wheaton's diary for January 2, 1865. The sleigh-ride through Neck Woods was the last of the many beautiful drives the Wheatons took together. On January 7 Mr. Wheaton was taken dangerously ill. There were no trained nurses in those days, but all the neighbors the Wheatons had helped so often in times of trouble gathered around them now, and among the watchers by the sick bed we read the names of Mr. Wild, Mr. Edwin Barrows, Mrs. Metcalf, Mr. Cobb, Mr. Annes Lincoln, "Sister Mary," Mr. Rogerson, and Mrs. Beane. "Dear Matty" came from her distant home on January 15, and Mr. Wheaton exclaimed: "Thank God for this, thank you for this!” On the 16th he was delirious and called for his wife in heartrending tones. On the 17th Mrs. Wheaton writes: "At 5 called the family. At 5 he called for singing, and said, 'I am grounded in Christ.' The singing soothed him and he fell asleep. He never woke, but died gently." Mrs. Wheaton kept the letters of sympathy received at this time all her life. It is striking to see how many of the writers speak of Mr. Wheaton as having given them personal help in one way or another. From the tributes to him, Mrs. Smith's paper quotes "a very few." "Sister Mary" grieves for “a beloved and respected brother-in-law," and writes: "The grave has closed over your dearest earthly friend; may all your loss be made up to you in a sweet union with Christ." Mrs. Cowles writes: "I want once more to look on the precious face which has always looked so kindly on me. The great black space between is bridged over by thoughts of his sent over to you, as well as by thoughts of yours which go every minute to him. Everything everywhere will be so blended with his memory as to be doubly dear. Where can you go in your house or out of it, where his image, his plans, his work, his smile, will not meet and greet you? I feel sure that your life will be more than ever given to blessing the world, that interest in the neighbor will be your medicine." Mrs. Holmes writes: "That sweet face, so calm and peaceful, with that body so chastely arrayed for the last time, appears to me many, many times in the day; and I feel the last kind words to me have |