I think no one blamed him, but all were sorry to part with one whom they loved so well. That his interest in the cause and the Association had not waned is apparent from the following letter, April 3, 1845:—
"Dear Sir:—In withdrawing from the Association I cannot believe it necessary for me to say to you that I do not cease to feel an interest, a very deep interest, in the success of the cause in which I have in my humble way labored with you for the last few years. The final success of this attempt to live out the great and holy idea of association for brotherly cooperation, will be to me a greater cause for joy than any merely personal benefit to myself could be.
"I wished, but could not do it, to say to you and others how much I love and esteem you, and how painful it is for me to leave those to whom I am so much indebted for personal kindnesses. You know me well enough to believe that I feel, more deeply than I can express, pained by this separation. God bless you. God bless and prosper the Association individually and collectively.
"Yours truly,
"MINOT PRATT."
It was about this time that a "party" was given by the "Great Apostle," as Mr. Brisbane was called by us. I made a memorandum of it at the time, which aids my memory in presenting it.
The day had been pleasant; it was one of the last in March. The farm work had progressed as usual. Old Kate was at the plough and Cyclops at the wagon. Who was Cyclops? She was a large, raw-boned, gray-white mare, whose feeding did not show well; the more oats and meal and hay she had, the more ribs we counted in her sides—you have seen such an animal! But she was wonderful, because she stepped longer, than any other of the horses; worked harder without showing fatigue, and made the nine miles to Boston in a practical if not a graceful way.
She had a fault, and horsemen had to admit it (you know they seldom admit a fault but what is very visible). This was a visible fault, and yet at the same time it was a want of visibility. She had but one eye. And so Glover it was, I am quite sure, named her Cyclops.
By the by, she had one other fault that I had almost forgotten, and that was of elevating her heels against the dashers of wagons, when she had an ugly fit, which took place semi-occasionally, and the peculiarity of it was that she was not particular as to time or place where she made her exhibitions. It might be in Dock Square or State Street, or it might be on the farm, just as all were starting out. It was not over pleasant to be near her when she flung those long hind legs some six feet in air, and the dash-board was flying in pieces.
The "General," with some others, was about to take a ride one day, when she put a hind foot over the dasher, which caused him to dismount precipitately. "For," he said he, when speaking of it, "I thought if she was g-going to g-get in, it was time for me to get out!"