Lansingburgh by stage or take the canal boat. We thought stage riding would be rather tame after the beautiful scenery of Vermont, and as I had never been in a canal boat in my life, Herman thought we had better try it for the novelty. This would expedite our journeying, too, and having once set our faces homeward, we were not disposed to delay. Being fully forewarned of the inconvenience we might expect in passing a night on board à canal boat—a crowded canal boat, too, and fully determined to meet them bravely, we stepped on board-not without some misgivings, however, as we saw the crowds of men, women and children come pouring in, with trunks and handbags to match. Where so many people were to store themselves at night was a mystery to be yet unravelled, and what they all did do with themselves is something I have not yet found out. Well, night drew on-and after sitting on deck on trunks or anything we could find (and having to bob our heads down every few minutes when the helmsman sang out 'Bridge!' or 'Low Bridge!') it became so damp and chilly that I was finally driven below.

"Here was a scene entirely passing description. The Ladies' 'Saloon!' they politely termed it so, so we were informed by a red and gilt sign over it. A space about as large as my room at home, was separated from the gentlemen's 'Saloon' by a curtain only. About 20 or 25 women were huddled into this. Each one having two children apiece of all ages, sexes, and sizes, said children, as is usual on such occasions, lifting up their respective voices, very loud indeed, in one united chorus of lamentations.

"A narrow row of shelves was hooked up high on each side and on these some & more fortunate mothers had closely packed their sleeping babies while they sat by to prevent their rolling out. I looked round in vain for a place to stretch my limbs, but it was not to be thought of-but after a while by a fortunate chance I got a leaning privilege, and fixing my carpet-bag for a pillow, I made up my mind to pass the night in this manner. One by one the wailing children dropped off to sleep and I had actually lost myself in a sort of doze, when a new feature in the case became apparent. Stepping carefully

over the outstretched forms on the floor came two men, each bearing a pile of boards or little shelves like those already suspended. These they hooked up against the sides in the smallest conceivable spaces, using every available inch of room—and were intended to sleep (!) upon. I immediately pounced upon one of them which I thought might be accessible, and was just consulting with myself as to the best means of getting onto it, when I was politely requested by one of the sufferers to take the shelf above from which she wished to remove her children. to the one I thought to occupy-of course I complied, and after failing in several awkward attempts, I managed to climb and crawl into this narrow aperture like a bug forcing its way through the boards of a fence. Sweltering and smothering I watched the weary night hours pass away, for to sleep in such an atmosphere was impossible. I rose at 3 o'clock, thinking it was five, spent a couple of hours curled up on the floor, and was right glad when Herman came for me, with the joyful intelligence that we were actually approaching Whitehall-the place of our destination. He also passed a weary night, though his sufferings were of the opposite order-for while I was suffocating with the heat and bad atmosphere, he was on deck, chilled and half-frozen with the fog and penetrating dampness, for the gentlemen's apartment was even more crowded than the ladies'-so much so that they did not attempt to hang any shelves for them to lie upon. All they could do was to sit bolt upright firmly wedged in and if one of them presumed to lean at all or even to nod out of the perpendicular it was thought a great infringement of rights, and he was immediately called to order. So Herman preferred to remain on deck all night to being in this crowd. We left the boat and took the cars about an hour's ride from Lansingburgh, and surprised the family at 6 o'clock in the morning before they were up. We were very warmly welcomed and cared for and soon forgot our tribulations of the canal boat. I was much disappointed to miss the boys-they had only left the day before it was too bad-I am looking forward with such impatience to see you and father, and sincerely hope nothing will happen to prevent your coming.

"I suppose we shall not be long here. Allan is looking out for a house in N. Y. and will be married next month.

"You know a proposition was made before I came here that I should furnish my own room, which for good reasons were then set aside-but if it is not too late now, I should like very much to do it if we go to N. Y.-but we can talk about that when I see you. I must bring my scribbling to a close, after I have begged you or somebody to write me. I have not received a single line since I left home. How did the dinner party go off? I want to hear about everything and everybody at home. Please give my warmest love to all and believe me your affectionate daughter,

"ELIZABETH S. M.

"Herman desires his kindest remembrances to all."

Soon after the marriage, Melville and his wife moved from Lansingburg to New York, where they lived with Melville's brother, Allan, and his household of sisters. The letters of Mrs. Melville's are the only surviving records of the intimate details of this domestic arrangement. They are interesting, too, as revelation of the character of Mrs. Melville. The three following are typical:

"NEW YORK, Dec. 23rd, 1847.

"Thank you, dear Mother, for your nice long letter. I was beginning to be afraid you had forgotten your part of the contract for that week, but Saturday brought me evidence to the contrary and made us even. And I should have written you earlier, but the days are so short, and I have so much to do, that they fly by without giving me half the time I want. Perhaps you will wonder what on earth I have to occupy me. Well in fact I hardly know exactly myself, but true it is little things constantly present themselves and dinner time comes. before I am aware. We breakfast at 8 o'clock, then Herman goes to walk and I fly up to put his room to rights, so that he can sit down to his desk immediately on his return. Then I bid him good-bye, with many charges to be an industrious boy and not upset the inkstand and then flourish the duster,

make the bed, etc., in my own room. Then I go downstairs and read the papers a little while, and after that I am ready to sit down to my work-whatever it may be darning stockings-making or mending for myself or Herman-at all events, I haven't seen a day yet, without some sewing or other to do. If I have letters to write, as is the case to-day, I usually do that first-but whatever I am about I do not much more than get thoroughly engaged in it, than ding-dong goes the bell for luncheon. This is half-past 12 o'clock-by this time we must expect callers, and so must be dressed immediately after lunch. Then Herman insists upon taking a walk of an hour's length at least. So unless I can have rain or snow for an excuse, I usually sally out and make a pedestrian tour a mile or two down Broadway. By the time I come home it is two o'clock and after, and then I must make myself look as bewitchingly as possible to meet Herman at dinner. This being accomplished, I have only about an hour of available time left. At four we dine, and after dinner is over, Herman and I come up to our room and enjoy a cosy chat for an hour or so- -or he reads me some of the chapters he has been writing in the day. Then he goes down town for a walk, looks at the papers in the reading room, etc., and returns about half-past seven or eight. Then my work or my book is laid aside, and as he does not use his eyes but very little by candle light, I either read to him, or take a hand at whist for his amusement, or he listens to our reading or conversation, as best pleases him. For we all collect in the parlour in the evening, and generally one of us reads aloud for the benefit of the whole. Then we retire very early-at 10 o'clock we all disperse. Indeed we think that quite a late hour to be up. This is the general course of daily events—so you see how my time is occupied; but sometime-dear me! we have to go and make calls! and then good-bye to everything else for that day! for upon my word, it takes the whole day, from I o'clock till four! and then perhaps we don't accomplish more than two or three, if unluckily they chance to be in—for everybody lives so far from everybody else, and all Herman's and Allan's friends are so polite, to say nothing of Mrs. M.'s old

acquaintances, that I am fairly sick and tired of returning calls. And no sooner do we do up a few, than they all come again, and so it has to be gone over again.

"You know ceremonious calls were always my abomination, and where they are all utter strangers and we have to send in our cards to show who we are, it is so much the worse. Excepting calls, I have scarcely visited at all. Herman is not fond of parties, and I don't care anything about them here. To-morrow night, for a great treat, we are going to the opera -Herman & Fanny and I—and this is the first place of public amusement I have attended since I have been here-but somehow or other I don't care much about them now.

"I am glad to hear that father and all are so well-except Sam-how is his cough now? don't forget to tell us when you write.

"If Susan Haywood and Fanny Clarke are at our house please give my love to them and ask Susan to answer my letter. How is Mrs. Marcus Morton and Mrs. Hawes? I hope you will be able to write me this week though I know your time is very much occupied-but then you know any letter-even the shortest and most hurried is acceptable and better than nonethough I must confess my prejudice sins in favour of long ones—but I am glad to hear anything from home. You addressed my last letter just right and it came very straightbut Allan's name is spelt with an 'a' instead of an 'e'-as Allan -not Allen-different names, you see-I am hoping that sometime or other father will find time to write to me-though I know he is so much occupied with other matters.

"Thank you for your kindness about the picture box-as I do not need any article at present, I will keep the dollar till I do-it will be the same thing, you know, and I have already got such a New Year's present in the big box upstairs-by the way, in about a week more, it will be time to open it. Oh, what do you think about my calling on Mrs. Joe Henshaw and Josephine-they are living here and came here after I did, so perhaps I ought to call first if it is best for me to visit them -being connected with the Haywoods perhaps it would be better to renew the acquaintance. What do you think about