.' Here I am at 61 years of age without an
ache, a pain, or a physical infirmity. Now closing a preaching and
lecturing tour from Georgia to Minnesota and Wisconsin, I am to-morrow
morning to start for my residence at the seaside where my family are
awaiting me, and notwithstanding all the journeying and addressing of
great audiences, and shaking hands with thousands of people, after a
couple of days' rest will be no more weary than when I left home. 'Bless
the Lord, O my soul!'"

My ordinary mode of passing vacations has been to go to East Hampton,
Long Island, and thence to go out for two or three preaching and
lecturing excursions to points all the way between New York and San
Francisco, or from Texas to Maine. I find that I cannot rest more than
two weeks at a time. More than that wearies me. Of all the places I have
ever known East Hampton is the best place for quiet and recuperation.

I became acquainted with it through my brother-in-law, Rev. S.L.
Mershon. The Presbyterian church here was his first pastoral settlement.
When a boy in grammar school and college I visited him and his wife, my
sister Mary. The place is gradually submitting to modern notions, but
East Hampton, whether in its antiquated shape or epauletted and frilled
and decorated by the hand of modern enterprise, has always been to me a
semi-Paradise.

As I approach it my pulse is slackened and a delicious somnolence comes
over me. I dream out the work for another year.

My most useful sermons have been born here. My most successful books
were planned here. In this place, between the hours of somnolence, there
come hours of illumination and ecstasy. It seems far off from the heated
and busy world. East Hampton has been a great blessing to my family. It
has been a mercy to have them here, free from all summer heats. When
nearly grown, the place is not lively enough for them, but an
occasional diversion to White Sulphur, or Alum Springs, or a summer in
Europe, has given them abundant opportunity. All my children have been
with us in Europe, except my departed son, DeWitt, who was at a most
important period in school at the time of our going, or he would have
been with us on one of our foreign tours.

I have crossed the ocean twelve times, that is six each way, and like it
less and less. It is to me a stomachic horror. But the frequent visits
have given educational opportunity to my children. Foreign travel, and
lecturing and preaching excursions i