In Memoriam.

In 1866, conceiving that a grander mausoleum should mark the spot, the leading Express directors, with the concurrence of the widow and son of the original expressman, removed the simple marble shaft, which had stood there for more than twenty years, and substituted the costly and imposing monument to his memory, now admired by every one who visits the notable cemetery of Mount Auburn.

It is a lovely place, that city of the dead, as nearly everybody knows, and situated about four miles from Boston, where our deceased friend had passed the most of his brief, but bustling life.

As I remember it, the magnificent memorial is about sixteen feet high, and three feet square. Its diameter is varied, in accordance with its elaborate design, but it bears no resemblance to the former marble shaft, except in its beautiful material.

It has a finely carved ornamental base, and in the upper cube is a draped urn within a miniature circular colonnade, which supports the graceful dome, or cap-stone.

Under the cube on which this temple stands is a larger one, very massive, and of the finest marble, bearing on its four sides appropriate sculpture, the chief being in raised block letters, as follows:

William Frederick Harnden,

FOUNDER OF

THE EXPRESS BUSINESS IN AMERICA,

DIED ON THE 14TH DAY OF JANUARY, 1845.

“Because the king's business required haste.”—I. Samuel xx. 8.

In similar bas-relief, under the above, is the traditional Express emblem, significant of watchfulness and unflinching fidelity, a bull-dog.

Also in bas-relief, on a tablet over these, there are the symbols, a dove and an hour-glass, with the sands run out; and a trio of female figures-Faith, Hope, and Charity.

The west side of the same cube presents an abrupt change from antique allegory to the practical and modern, being a marble picture of the interior of an Express office-supposably Harnden's. At a desk and short counter stands what is intended to personify the original expressman, while, confronting him, is a woman with a baby in her arms-emigrants newly come, by Harnden's trans-Atlantic line, from Liverpool.

The very graphic bas-relief on the side facing sunrise is a well-laden Express wagon, from which the driver is delivering a small parcel to a lady.

The side least conspicuous bears the inscription

ERECTED BY THE

EXPRESS COMPANIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
IN THE YEAR A. D. 1866.

Certainly the monument is no less honorable to the fraternal feeling and genuine liberality of the expressmen, whose contributions paid for it, than to the memory of him whose services it commemorates.

Alvin Adams.

The beloved founder of the Adams Express departed this life September 2, 1877, aged 75 years.

His disease was thoracic dropsy. The funeral ceremony took place at the lovely residence of his family, in Watertown, Mass., and was one of the most numerously attended ever witnessed in the neighborhood of Boston.

Perhaps I may be pardoned for recurring to an interview which I had with this dear old friend near the close of his useful and busy life. I think it was in August, 1877, that (visit

ing my native city) I called upon Alvin Adams, in his private room in the Adams office on Court street.

He received me with that urbanity which had always characterized him, even in the rush of business, now relinquished; but still the meeting was not without a shade of pain to me, because, as I looked into the clear, grey eyes, and benevolent countenance, now so grave, I could not but feel that family bereavements, old and new, were sapping at the foundations of his vital enjoyment and hold upon life; and I thought I could discern that, stiffly as he bore up under his heavy load of losses, domestic and financial, it was too much even for him, and time was not bearing so rudely upon him as some inward affliction, and the inevitable physical suffering consequent upon it.

I do not know what led to it, but (I think it was some allusion of his own) we exchanged a few words relative to the life beyond this. As we did so, his thoughtful eyes lighted up, and appeared to be looking into that world whither his dear ones. had gone, and his chastened spirit was quite ready to follow. His words were few, and without emotion, but grave even to solemnity, though he may not have been conscious of it; being a spiritual man, but without a particle of the conventional manner and expression common to religious persons when speaking of eternity, yet impressing one with the feeling that (notwithstanding his dignified bearing) at heart he was humbled, and "not far from the kingdom."

I had seen him only a twelvemonth before, but it was as if ten years at least had whitened with its snows his still handsome head; yet so erect was his person, so clear and steady his look, that I had no fears of his dying within a year or two; but it was only a few weeks from the date of that interview, when the good man lay down the burden of life, and went to his rest and the companionship of the beloved who had gone before him.

Henry Wells.

Little more than a year later, the founder of the third great Express, HENRY WELLS, for many years president of the American, was laid low by the deadly shaft which, for many years, he had sought to avoid by foreign travel, and resorting to salubrious climates, both American and European, for suitable air and hygienic waters.

When his last hour had come, he was not permitted the solace of dying in his own home, but breathed his last in a strange land. He died in Europe, but his remains were brought to this country, and everywhere (when such a thing was possible) en route from New York harbor to his house in Aurora, N. Y., were received with loving attentions by his Express brethren and associates. One of the most useful of these gentlemen, on that sad occasion, was Alfred Higgins, of Syracuse, N. Y., whom he had long held in affectionate esteem.

Henry Wells must have been nearly four score at his decease, but his mind was well preserved, and his spirits unusually buoyant and provocative of cheerfulness in all around him.

If my recollection serve, it was in 1877, or a little earlier, that the venerable founder of the firm of Wells & Co. tarried for a few days at the Grand Pacific Hotel, in Chicago, on his way from San Diego, one of his favorite winter resorts. I called upon him, and he renewed our old friendship with some of that agreeable humor, and fondness for anecdotes regarding the business, and his early associates in the work, which was characteristic of him.

He spoke, too, with considerable zest of friends in California, and especially of an expressman's festival in San Francisco, in 1876 or 1877, at which he was a guest. The fête was in honor of "Old Block," or some other pioneer messenger in the "diggings," notable for his courage, eccentricity, and fondness for practical jokes. Some of these amusing things the old Express president recounted to me with great gusto and many an "audible smile." God rest him! The memory is a pleasant one.