And I was to take a journey to Hartford, the semicapital of the State! Forty miles was its extent—the weary work of a whole day, with a long stop at noon for dinner, and to rest the horses. Faithful Lucy Calkins was to accompany and take care of me. My journal, which I had commenced two or three years before, noted every variation of scenery and circumstance with becoming minuteness and solemnity. Hear what that quaint journal, from a quire of gray foolscap stitched into a marble-paper cover, utters forth, still spreading its fairly-written pages, half a century old, upon my table:
"This fifteenth day of October was the one appointed for our journey. Weather very fine. Took leave of my dear parents, and entered the stage-coach, where were several passengers already seated. At the distance of four miles we reached the rural township of Franklin, which was formerly called Norwich West-Farms, having been an appendage of my native city. It is composed almost wholly of farmers, whose small and pleasant dwellings exhibit a picture of contentment.
"Six additional miles brought us to Lebanon. This town appears to have been designed for a much larger one than it is ever likely to become. The streets are laid out so wide, that those who live on opposite sides can scarcely be said to be neighbors. To me it had a sort of dreary appearance. It is remarkable as the residence of the two Governor Trumbulls, father and