a horseman, riding slowly along, with the following inscription, “From Salem to Boston in forty-eight hours' time.” Then came an old, heavy diligence, with the inscription, “From Salem to Boston in twelve hours' time.” After them came a railway train, inscribed, “From Salem to Boston in half-an-hour;” and lastly an iron wire of the electric telegraph, inscribed, “From Salem to Boston in no time at all!” The whole of the historical procession seemed to me one of the cleverest, most ingenious and amusing popular festivals which I ever heard of, and is said to have caused the greatest delight. The New World, which is altogether deficient in traditional popular festivals (with the exception of the beautiful Thanksgiving day), seems to have begun a new series of such, of a more rational purport, and with more food for sound thought and sentiment, than the European popular amusements, which are often utterly devoid of meaning. Among the American festivals I have heard some very beautiful ones mentioned; the so-called Floral-feasts, in the months of May and June, which seem to me like lovely children of the spirit of the New World. But still working-days are in this country so supreme, that people are hardly able to occupy themselves with festivals, at least as the product of a self-conscious, developed, popular life.
On the 7th of August I left Salem for the White Mountains, in company with Mrs. S. and her young son. Her voluntary offer to be my companion on this excursion was particularly agreeable to me, because I like her manners and her society, and I can, while I make this journey with her, avoid great parties and great companies, and can go about in freedom among the mountains, the waterfalls, and the forests, and see everything as I wish to see it, in the quietest and the most agreeable manner in the world.
The first day's journey, was to the Shaker community
