It seemed to me that I was touching history itself.

The house was a new atmosphere, and my intercourse with the family was a powerful stimulant to the desire for improvement of my own mind and manners.
The only subject upon which there was always a decided, though silent, antagonism between the Wilkins family and myself was politics.

I was an ardent Free-Soiler in days when to be an abolitionist was somewhat akin to being a republican in Britain.

The Wilkinses were strong Democrats with leanings toward the South, being closely connected with leading Southern families.

On one occasion at Homewood, on entering the drawing-room, I found the family excitedly conversing about a terrible incident that had recently occurred.
"What do you think!" said Mrs.Wilkins to me; "Dallas" (her grandson) "writes me that he has been compelled by the commandant of West Point to sit next a negro! Did you ever hear the like of that?
Is it not disgraceful?
Negroes admitted to West Point!" "Oh!" I said, "Mrs.Wilkins, there is something even worse than that.
I understand that some of them have been admitted to heaven!" There was a silence that could be felt.