Some writer has well said, "A good anecdote is the better part of a biography," elucidating and illuminating it. This is particularly true in the narrative of my father. He had a vein of mirthfulness in his character which rendered him a very genial companion. He well enjoyed a good joke. I can see him now, with his eyes shut, making no noise, but fairly shaking with merriment.

From Rev. Dr. John Todd, I received the following incident, which occured many years ago:-

"I recall the first time, I ever saw your father. It was at Mr. Evarts's (oh, how much warmer friends were then, than it is fashionable to be now). He was telling the story of a young lady who came to him for advice. It seems that a theologue was smitten with her charms, was very attentive, and, I think, engaged to her. 'When he got away off up into Vermont,' said Mr. Woods (he was not doctor then), 'the cold climate seemed to affect him, and he became cold also. He wrote her a letter so cold that it grieved the poor girl. So she wrote back a warm, complaining epistle, almost entreating him.

" ' "Oh child, I would not send that letter; nor would I put myself so much into his hands as that. It is not best for a lady to do so."

" ' "Yes; but oh, Mr. Woods!" and tears fell fast and hot, "what can I do? I don't believe I shall ever have a husband as long as I live!"

" 'Well, Mr. Woods,' I inquired, when I found that his story had suddenly ended, 'what could you say to her?'

" 'Oh!' he answered, with an arch smile, 'I gave her great credit for her candor.' "

From Dr. Alva Woods, of Providence, R.I., I quote the following:-

"His mind was habitually cheerful and hopeful, and mirthfulness was a marked feature. I recollect one instance of this trait which I have, I think, seen in print.

"With a smiling countenance and twinkling eyes, he said to me one day, 'I was dining with a company of gentlemen, in Cambridge, after the Commencement exercises. A young Unitarian minister, who sat next to me, alluding to our new seminary, said, "I understand, Dr. Woods, that you have a machine in Andover, into which they put pumpkins and grind out ministers."

" ' "Yes, sir," I replied. "Would you like to try it?" ' "

From a clergyman in Washington, D.C., I have received the following incident, which bears so evidently the stamp of truth that I transcribe it:-

In the early years of the seminary, evening prayer in the chapel was followed directly by supper in commons. At this service the professors usually officiated in turn. On one occasion, three young students waited upon my father, and stated that they came as a committee from the whole. After a little hesitation, one of them said,-

"We have called, Dr. Woods, to ask a favor of you; but first, we wish to say that we have no fault to find with Professor Stuart or, indeed, with any of our professors. We enjoy his services at prayer exceedingly, but sometimes, of late, he has been rather long in his prayers, and we have been late to supper, and thus late in other engagements. We are aware of the close intimacy between you and Professor Stuart; and, as it would be a delicate matter for us to speak of, we have come to request you to give him a hint, in such a manner as you may think proper."

"Professor Stuart is extremely gifted in prayer," was the reply; it is a privilege to hear him pray, but," with a smile of peculiar significance, "I will accede to your request, gentlemen."

With many thanks, the committee took their leave, and proceeded to the house of Professor Stuart, where they made the

same prefatory remark, and the same request of him in regard to my father's prayers.

"Yes, yes; I know," answered Professor Stuart, with a laugh. "Well, I'll speak to him."

A few days later, father directed his steps toward Brother Stuart's domicile, where he found the gentleman vigorously plying his saw in his wood-house; this being his favorite exercise.

"I have had a call from some of the students," father began, "in reference to evening prayers in the chapel. They say that they enjoy your services greatly; but, sometimes, they are rather long. They felt a delicacy in making any complaint to you, and requested me to do it for them."

"Do they say that of me?" asked the professor, laughing. "Well, the committee came to me with the same request in regard to you. They think yours too long!"

With a hearty laugh over the occurrence, the professors separated.

I am sure my father must have enjoyed the joke.

One more incident, which illustrates my father's quick discernment of character and motives has been related by his successor in office.

Miss B, a lady intimate in the family of Dr. Woods, and in the habit of going frequently to his house, made an early call

there, one morning, and found him in his study, his face covered with lather, and a razor in his hand. Her errand seemed to be urgent; for, begging that she might not interrupt him, she hurriedly took a seat, and said, with some embarassment, -

"I have come to you for advice. I want to know what you think of Mr. C, of the senior class."

"I think well of him."

"But, Dr. Woods, this is a very solemn subject to me, - very solemn, indeed. Do you think Mr. C would be one - would be a suitable person for me? Would he make me a good husband?"

Suspending the operation of shaving, the professor fixed his eyes keenly on her face, as he quietly inquired, before answering her question, -

"Are you engaged to marry him?"

"Yes, sir; I am."

With a smile, he resumed his shaving. After this avowel, there was no need for him to give any views on the subject.

During the spring and fall vacations in the seminary, my father was in the habit of going on long journeys in his own carryall, taking his wife and as many children as he could pack into the carriage. At one time, he stopped for dinner at a country tavern. In the common parlor, to which the travellers were shown, a woman sat making a coat. My father addressed her kindly, and soon in-

quired concerning the different churches in the place, ending with the question, -

"To which church do you belong?"

"I joined the Orthodox Congregationalists, sir, but I left them, a year a go, for the Methodists."

"Why did you make the change?" inquired my father, perceiving the woman had more to tell.

With a peculiar expression in her bright gray eyes, she answered, -

"The Orthodox were not willing I should take up my cross."

"What do you mean?"

"I felt it to be my duty, sir, to speak in meetin', - to take up my cross, you know, sir; and they objected."

"My good friend," said my father, in his kindest tone, "would it not be well for you to inquire whether it would not be more of a cross for you to keep still? That may be your cross."

It was a habit of many of the students to come to my father for advice in regard to subjects of personal interest. I perfectly well recollect, when I was a little child, sitting on a stool, behind the old-fashioned, open Franklin stove, hearing my father tell a story to his Brother Church, as he always called that eminent man of God. It was an account of a student who had paid particular attention to a lady, until he succeeded in calling forth some affec-

tion on her part. "Now," said my father, "the poor fellow is in trouble. He came to me, to-day, with a request that I would allow him to walk with me when I take my exercise. He has engaged to marry the lady, and now cannot tell whether he loves her enough. He seems conscientious, and wants me to direct him as to his duty. I inquired whether the lady was aware of the change in his feelings. She is, and is willing to leave the whole decision in her suitor's hands. He went on very volubly describing the state of his heart, when I stopped him, -

" ' My dear young friend,' I said, 'love is a tender plant. If you are continually pulling it up, and analyzing it to see whether it has taken deep root, don't you see you are in danger of destroying it? If Miss ___ is of such a character as you describe, I think you may safely leave your happiness in her hands. Beyond this I cannot advise you, except to say that I have always considered it very mean and unchristian for a gentleman to win the affections of a lady, and then leave her.' "