Thy very welcome letter yesterday met me
soon, after returning from Swarthmore, where, of course,
we had a very different assembly from yours.
It was very interesting, having been at Pardsey Crags
last week, where the thousands had listened to George
Fox's preaching, now to see Swarthmore and remember
how things used to be when he "left the north fresh
and green;" but G. Fox never saw the meeting-house.
It was built, I believe, after his death, though the inscription
"_Ex dono G.F._" is over the porch. His black-oak
chairs stand in the meeting-room, and his two bed-posts
are at each side of the foot of the stairs. Swarthmore
Hall is an ancient-looking, high farm-house, with
stone window-frames, as we have seen it drawn. The
Hall, where the meetings used to be held, looks very
antique: black-oak panels remain in parts. Judge
Fell's study is just inside, and his desk in the window,
whence he could hear what passed, though he never went
to the meetings. The house is in sad repair. It seems
strange to lay aside our daily companions, the map and
the guide-book, and tarn our backs wholly on the mountain
land, for the level and busy plains of England, with
their "daily round and common task." But I know that
the bright and beautiful mountain-scenes will often come
again before the mental eye--"long-vanished" beauty
that "refines and paints in brighter hues;" and I hope
the pleasure will long be gratefully remembered.