m had stayed at home
and carried on the farm. An uncle of the Deacon with whom
I lived was Timothy Farrar of New Ipswich, an eminent judge
who died considerably more than a hundred years old, and who
was the oldest graduate of Harvard. Deacon James's own brother
was Professor John Farrar of Harvard, a famous mathematician
in his day, thought by his pupils to be the most eloquent
man of his time, although Webster and Everett and Channing
were his cotemporaries. It was a healthy and simple life
of plain living and high thinking. But I think I got more
good out of it in learning how the best intelligence of the
State of Massachusetts was likely to judge of the questions
of morals and duty than I got afterward from my four years
in college. Two of the Deacon's sons succeeded him on the
farm. One was his successor in his office in the church.
Another son, George Farrar, graduated at Amherst where he
was cotemporary with Dr. Storrs and Henry Ward Beecher. He
died a few years after his admission to the Bar. But he had
already given proof that he would, if he had lived, have taken
rank among the foremost at the Bar in Massachusetts.

Before entering college I was for about six months a pupil
of Mrs. Sarah Ripley of Waltham. She removed to Concord with
her husband afterward. She was one of the most wonderful
scholars of her time, or indeed of any time. President Everett
said she could fill any professor's chair at Harvard. She
was an admirable mathematician. She read the "Mecanique Celeste"
of Laplace in the original without the aid of Dr. Bowditch's
translation. She was a fine German and Italian scholar. She
had a great fondness for Greek literature, especially for
Plato and AEschylus. She was an accomplished naturalist.
She was simple as a child, an admirable wife and mother, performing
perfectly all the commonest duties of the household. The
authorities of Harvard used to send boys to her who were rusticated
for some offence. She would keep them along in all their
studies, in most cases better instructed than they would have
been if they had stayed in Cambridge. I remember her now
with the strongest feeling of reverence, affection and gratitude.
In that I say what every other pupil of hers would say. I
do not think she ever knew how much her boys loved her.

In 1876 the Directors of the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia
took steps to have the lives of three or four of the foremost
women of the ce