In official circles at Washington, the fear of disorder, rebellion, revolution, was extremely grave. Troops were being silently, secretly slipped to Washington. Many looked for an immediate storm. General Sherman told me privately he was preparing for it the best he could. “If a civil war breaks out,” said he, “it will be a thousand times _worse_ than the other war. It will be the fighting of neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend.” He grew almost pessimistic in his views for the future of our country. “It is only a question of time,” said he, “till the politicians will ruin all of us. _Partisanship is a curse._ These men are not howling for their country’s good, but their own political advantage, and the people are too big fools to see it. We are liable to smash into a thousand pieces every time we have an election.” He was greatly moved, and almost wept at the thought of what would happen, were the violence then threatened really to break out. _January 4, 1877._--Again in Zurich. When we reached our home, we found the servants had returned, the house was warmed for us, and everything was in place as if we had not been gone a day; yet we had traveled 13,000 miles. Above the hall door, in evergreen and holly, were the words--“Welcome Home!” How many of our American servants think of such a pretty, feeling act as that, for their employers! * * * * * Some of our first Winter evenings here we spent in playing whist at the Dennison home. They are worth mentioning, for the people who played with us, and the story of some of them. Mr. Dennison had once been manager of the Waltham Watch Works, and it was he who _invented_ watch making by machinery. He is called the “father of American watch making.” He is a tall, fine looking gentleman of seventy, with kind eyes, pleasant speech, modest manners, and universal genius. He seemed to know everything that concerns the working of a machine. Our best whist-player at the table was Mr. Sadler, a kind old English gentleman who brought Christmas cake to my wife, regularly as the holiday came. He kept the story of his life secret. He was a mystery, and no one dared to pry into his past. We knew him to be rich, though he lived like a poor man in an obscure pension.