And what of old Judge Sewall of the previous century--he of a number of wives and innumerable children? Even in his day, when Puritanism was at its worst, or as he would say, at its best, acts of thoughtfulness and mutual love between man and wife were apparently not forgotten. The wonderful _Diary_ offers the proof: "June 20, 1685: Carried my Wife to Dorchester to eat Cherries, Raspberries, chiefly to ride and take the Air. The time my Wife and Mrs. Flint spent in the Orchard, I spent in Mr. Flint's Study, reading Calvin on the Psalms...."[114] "July 8, 1687. Carried my wife to Cambridge to visit my little Cousin Margaret...."[115] "I carry my two sons and three daughters in the Coach to Danford, the Turks head at Dorchester; eat sage Cheese, drunk Beer and Cider and came homeward...."[116] Thus human were those grave fathers of the nation. History and fiction often conspire to portray them as always walking with solemnity, talking with deep seriousness, and looking upon all mortals and all things with chilling gloom; but, after all, they seem, in domestic life at least, to have gone about their daily round of duties and pleasures in much the same spirit as we, their descendants, work and play. As Wharton in her _Through Colonial Doorways_ says: "The dignified Washington becomes to us a more approachable personality when, in a letter written by Mrs. John M. Bowers, we read that when she was a child of six he dandled her on his knee and sang to her about 'the old, old man and the old, old woman who lived in the vinegar bottle together,' ... or again, when General Greene writes from Middlebrook, 'We had a little dance at my quarters. His Excellency and Mrs. Greene danced upwards of three hours without once sitting down. Upon the whole we had a pretty little frisk."