at Canterbury, on the Merrimac river in New Hampshire, which I wished to visit that I might see its Botanic Garden, and become somewhat better acquainted with this remarkable sect. I had letters to the chief family of this Shaker-community, from my little ladies' doctor in Boston, Miss H., who is frequently called in here as physician. We went by railway into New Hampshire, but left it again in a forest, where we were to take a carriage which should convey us to the Shaker-village at some miles distance. After various small misadventures, we obtained a cart in which was a seat, on which Mrs. S. and I could sit, our driver sitting half on a little barrel, and half on our knees. Thus proceeded we leisurely with a leisurely horse, along heavy, sandy roads, through the forest. It began to rain, first very small, then thicker and faster. We hoisted our umbrellas, and sate patiently for between two and three hours. Very glad, however, were we when at length, we perceived through the veil of rain, the cheerful, yellow two-storied houses of the Shaker-village, shining out on the green hills, through the rain, at some distance from us.
Pretty much like wet hens, we descended from our cart, and soon a hospitable door was opened to us, and two young sisters with gentle, pale countenances, led us into a great chamber, where everything was neat and delicate, and rubbed as bright as in a doll's house. I produced my letter, and immediately saw its good effect in an increased kindliness, and by the cordial manner in which Harriet H. was inquired after.
It was late when we arrived. The kind sisters gave us tea, with excellent bread and butter, preserves, &c., and at my request sang, the while, some of their spiritual songs. Their manner was tranquil, and though not cheerful, had a heartfelt gentleness and serenity in it. After this evening meal, we were conducted to our chambers, two large, light rooms, where nothing was unnecessarily ornamental, but
