Nobody could be more earnest or sincere than Lincoln, but he could laugh; John Brown could not. My earliest impression, as a little boy, of John Brown, was that he might be one of the old prophets; he made me think of Isaiah. He was tall and thin; he wore a long beard and was always very, very serious. He hardly ever told a joke. John Brown's part in the business partnership was to sell the wool which my father bought from the farmers in the surrounding territory. So Brown was the man in the office, with time and opportunity for study and planning, while my father was out in the open, dealing with other men. Until they became involved so deeply in the antislavery movement the wool business prospered; the fact was that my father trusted Brown's business judgment as being pretty good. But in the end they gave up everything in the way of business of any sort. My father was a Methodist, but I do not remember hearing that John Brown belonged to any church. The liberation of the slaves obsessed his mind to the exclusion of all other thoughts and interests. Brown used to drive over to our house two or three times a week. It was a thirty-mile drive from Springfield, so he had always to spend the night. I have kept the latch of the door to his room--the room which he always occupied. How many times he raised that latch in passing in and out! I was a little chap then and used often to sit on his knee and listen to his stories told in that solemn, deep voice, which lent a mysterious dignity to the most unimportant tale. When evening came and dinner was over and the womenfolk were busy outside, Brown and my father would pull up their chairs to the dining table, on which a big lamp had been set, and talk long and earnestly--sometimes far into the night--while they pored over maps and lists and memoranda. Often I would wake up, when it seemed that morning must be almost at hand, and hear John Brown's low, even-toned voice speaking words which were to me without meaning. Next morning, after an early breakfast, he would harness his horse to the buggy, if one of us boys had not already done it for him, and start on the lonely drive back to Springfield. Brown and my father had accurate knowledge of many facts which might contribute to the success of a slave uprising in Virginia. They knew how many plantations there were and how many negroes were owned in each county--also the number of whites. Brown knew the names of the owners of the plantations and the means of reaching the plantations by unfrequented ways. He had talked this over with my father for years. William Lloyd Garrison told him it was a very foolish enterprise that he contemplated, and was opposed to it, although he was Brown's intimate friend.