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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/25582-8.txt b/25582-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76c657c --- /dev/null +++ b/25582-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5806 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Daughters of the Puritans, by Seth Curtis Beach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daughters of the Puritans + A Group of Brief Biographies + +Author: Seth Curtis Beach + +Release Date: May 24, 2008 [EBook #25582] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +DAUGHTERS +OF THE PURITANS + +A Group of Brief Biographies + +BY + +SETH CURTIS BEACH + +_Essay Index Reprint Series_ + +BOOKS FOR LIBRARIES PRESS, INC. +FREEPORT, NEW YORK + + + + +First published 1905 +Reprinted 1967 + +[Illustration: THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD AT WAYLAND, +MASSACHUSETTS] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK, 1789-1867 1 + + MARY LOVELL WARE, 1798-1849 43 + + LYDIA MARIA CHILD, 1802-1880 79 + + DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX, 1802-1887 123 + + SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI, 1810-1850 165 + + HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, 1811-1896 209 + + LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 1832-1888 251 + + + + +I + +CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK + + +[Illustration: CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK] + +During the first half of the nineteenth century, Miss Sedgwick would +doubtless have been considered the queen of American letters, but, in +the opinion of her friends, the beauty of her character surpassed the +merit of her books. In 1871, Miss Mary E. Dewey, her life-long +neighbor, edited a volume of Miss Sedgwick's letters, mostly to +members of her family, in compliance with the desire of those who knew +and loved her, "that some printed memorial should exist of a life so +beautiful and delightful in itself, and so beneficent in its influence +upon others." Truly a "life beautiful in itself and beneficent in its +influence," the reader will say, as he lays down this tender volume. + +Catharine Maria Sedgwick was born at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1789, the +first year of the presidency of George Washington. She was a +descendant from Robert Sedgwick, major-general under Cromwell, and +governor of Jamaica. Her father, Theodore Sedgwick, was a country boy, +born in 1746, upon a barren farm in one of the hill-towns of +Connecticut. Here the family opened a country store, then added a +tavern, and with the combined industries of farm, store and tavern, +Theodore, most fortunate of the sons if not the favorite, was sent to +Yale college, where he remained, until, in the last year of his +course, he managed to get himself expelled. He began the study of +theology, his daughter suggests, in a moment of contrition over +expulsion from college, but soon turned to the law for which he had +singular aptitude. He could not have gone far in his legal career +when, before the age of twenty-one, he married a beautiful girl whose +memory he always tenderly cherished, as well he might considering his +part in the tragedy of her early death. He had taken small pox, had +been duly quarantined and discharged but his young wife combed out the +tangles of his matted hair, caught the disease, and died, within a +year after marriage. + +Marriage was necessary in those days, his daughter suggests, and the +year of conventional widowhood having expired, Mr. Sedgwick, then at +the age of twenty-three, married Miss Pamela Dwight, the mother of his +four sons, all successful lawyers, and his three daughters, all +exemplary women. The second Mrs. Sedgwick was presumably more +beautiful than the first; certainly she was more celebrated. She is +immortalized by her portrait in Griswold's "American Court," and by a +few complimentary lines in Mrs. Ellet's "Queens of American Society." + +Theodore Sedgwick rose to distinction by his energies and talents but, +as we have seen, he was of sufficiently humble origin, which could not +have been greatly redeemed by expulsion from college; while at the age +of twenty-three, that must have been his chief exploit. Social lines +were very firmly drawn in that old colonial society, before the plough +of the Revolution went through it, and there was no more aristocratic +family than the Dwights, in Western Massachusetts. + +Madame Quincy gives an account of a visit, in her girlhood, paid to +the mother of Miss Pamela, Madame Dwight, in her "mansion-house," and +says that her husband, Brig.-Gen. Joseph Dwight, was "one of the +leading men of Massachusetts in his day." Madame Dwight was presumably +not inferior to her husband. She was daughter of Col. Williams, of +Williamstown, who commanded a brigade in the old French War, and whose +son founded Williams College. A daughter of Madame Dwight, older than +Pamela, married Mark Hopkins, "a distinguished lawyer of his time," +says Madame Quincy, and grandfather of Rev. Mark Hopkins, D.D., +perhaps the most illustrious president of the college founded by +Madame Dwight's family. + +The intermarriage of the Williamses, Dwights, and Hopkinses formed a +fine, aristocratic circle, into which the Sedgwicks were not very +cordially welcomed. "My mother's family (of this," says Mrs. Sedgwick, +"I have rather an indefinite impression than any knowledge) objected +to my father on the score of family, they priding themselves on their +gentle blood; but as he afterwards rose far beyond their highest +water-mark, the objection was cast into oblivion by those who made +it." + +A few years after this marriage, the war of the Revolution began. Mr. +Sedgwick entered the army, served as an officer under Washington, +whose acquaintance and favor he enjoyed, and from that time, for forty +years until his death, he was in public life, in positions of +responsibility and honor. He was member of the Continental Congress, +member of the House of Representatives, Speaker of the House, Senator +from Massachusetts, and, at his death, judge of the Massachusetts +Supreme Court. + +Judge Sedgwick was a staunch Federalist and, in spite of the fact that +he himself was not born in the purple, he shared the common Federalist +contempt for the masses. "I remember my father," says Miss Sedgwick, +"one of the kindest-hearted men and most observant of the rights of +all beneath him, habitually spoke of the people as 'Jacobins,' +'sans-culottes,' and 'miscreants.' He--and this I speak as a type of +the Federalist party--dreaded every upward step they made, regarding +their elevation as a depression, in proportion to their ascension, of +the intelligence and virtue of the country." "He was born too soon," +says his daughter apologetically, "to relish the freedoms of +democracy, and I have seen his brow lower when a free and easy +mechanic came to the front door, and upon one occasion, I remember his +turning off the east steps (I am sure not kicking, but the +demonstration was unequivocal) a grown up lad who kept his hat on +after being told to remove it." In these days one would hardly tell +him to remove it, let alone hustling him off the steps. + +The incident shows how far education, prosperity, wealth, and forty +years of public life had transformed the father of Miss Sedgwick from +the country boy of a hill-farm in Connecticut. More to our present +purpose, the apologetic way in which Miss Sedgwick speaks of these +high-bred prejudices of her father, shows that she does not share +them. "The Federalists," she says, "stood upright, and their feet +firmly planted on the rock of aristocracy but that rock was bedded in +the sands, or rather was a boulder from the Old World, and the tide of +democracy was surely and swiftly undermining it." + +When this was written, Miss Sedgwick had made the discovery that, +while the Federalists had the better "education, intellectual and +moral," the "democrats had among them much native sagacity" and an +earnest "determination to work out the theories of the government." +She is writing to her niece: "All this my dear Alice, as you may +suppose, is an after-thought. Then I entered fully, and with the faith +and ignorance of childhood, into the prejudices of the time." Those +prejudices must have been far behind her when her first story was +written, "A New England Tale," in which it happens, inadvertently we +may believe, all the worst knaves are blue-blooded and at least most +of the decent persons are poor and humble. Later we shall see her +slumming in New York like a Sister of Charity, 'saving those that are +lost,' a field of labor toward which her Federalist education scarcely +led. + +She could have learned some condescension and humanity from her mother +who, in spite of her fine birth, seems to have been modest and +retiring to a degree. She was very reluctant to have her husband +embark upon a public career; had, her daughter says, "No sympathy with +what is called honor and distinction"; and wrote her husband a letter +of protest which is worth quoting if only to show how a well-trained +wife would write her doting husband something more than a century ago: +"Pardon me, my dearest Mr. Sedgwick, if I beg you once more to think +over the matter before you embark in public business. I grant that the +'call of our country,' the 'voice of fame,' and the 'Honorable' and +'Right-Honorable,' are high sounding words. 'They play around the +head, but they come not near the heart.'" However, if he decides for a +public career, she will submit: "Submission is my duty, and however +hard, I will try to practice what reason teaches me I am under +obligation to do." That address, "my dearest Mr. Sedgwick," from a +wife a dozen years after marriage, shows a becoming degree of respect. + +We may be sure that this gentle mother would have encouraged no silly +notions of social distinctions in the minds of her children. Even Mr. +Sedgwick seems to have had a softer and more human side to his nature +than we have yet seen. Miss Sedgwick enjoys repeating a story which +she heard from a then "venerable missionary." The son of the village +shoemaker, his first upward step was as boy-of-all-work of the clerk +of courts. He had driven his master to the court session in dignified +silence, broken on arrival by a curt order to take in the trunk. "As +he set it down in the entry," says Miss Sedgwick, "my father, then +judge of the Supreme Judicial Court, was coming down stairs, bringing +his trunk himself. He set it down, accosted the boy most kindly, and +gave him his cordial hand. The lad's feelings, chilled by his master's +haughtiness, at once melted, and took an impression of my father's +kindness that was never effaced." + +The individual is so much a creature of his environment, that I must +carry these details a little farther. Forty years in public life, +Judge Sedgwick had an extended acquaintance and, according to the +custom of the time, kept open house. "When I remember," says Miss +Sedgwick, "how often the great gate swung open for the entrance of +traveling vehicles, the old mansion seems to me much more like an +hostelrie of the olden time than the quiet house it now is. My +father's hospitality was unbounded. It extended from the gentleman in +his coach, chaise, or on horseback, according to his means or +necessities, to the poor, lame beggar that would sit half the night +roasting at the kitchen fire with the negro servants. My father was in +some sort the chieftain of his family, and his home was their resort +and resting-place. Uncles and aunts always found a welcome there; +cousins wintered and summered with us. Thus hospitality was an element +in our education. It elicited our faculties of doing and suffering. It +smothered the love and habit of minor comforts and petty physical +indulgences that belong to a higher state of civilization and generate +selfishness, and it made regard for others, and small sacrifices for +them, a habit." + +Just one word more about this home, the like of which it would be hard +to find in our generation: "No bickering or dissention was ever +permitted. Love was the habit, the life of the household rather than +the law.--A querulous tone, a complaint, a slight word of dissention, +was met by that awful frown of my father's. Jove's thunder was to a +pagan believer but as a summer day's drifting cloud to it. It was not +so dreadful because it portended punishment,--it was punishment; it +was a token of suspension of the approbation and love that were our +life." + +These passages have a twofold value. They tell us in what school Miss +Sedgwick was educated, and they give us a specimen of her literary +style. Language is to her a supple instrument, and she makes the +reader see what she undertakes to relate. + +Judge Sedgwick died in Boston, in 1813, when Miss Sedgwick was +twenty-three. The biographical Dictionaries say he was a member of Dr. +Channing's church. As Miss Sedgwick relates the facts, he had long +desired to "make a public profession of religion," but had been +deterred because he could not conscientiously join the church of his +family, in Stockbridge, with its Calvinistic confession, and was too +tender of the feelings of his pastor to join another,--"unworthy +motives," says Miss Sedgwick. Briefly stated, he now sent for Dr. +Channing and received from him the communion. Later, Miss Sedgwick +followed him into the Unitarian fellowship. She, and two distinguished +brothers, were among the founders of the first Unitarian church in New +York city. + +Miss Dewey calls her volume "The Life and Letters" of Miss Sedgwick, +but the Life is very scantily written. She has given us a picture +rather than a biography. Indeed, to write a biography of Miss Sedgwick +is no easy task, there was so much of worth in her character and so +little of dramatic incident in her career. Independent in her +circumstances, exempt from struggle for existence or for social +position, unambitious for literary fame and surprised at its coming, +unmarried and yet domestic in tastes and habits, at home in any one of +the five households of her married brothers and sisters, she lived for +seventy-seven years as a favored guest at the table of fortune. She +saw things happen to others, but they did not happen to her. It was +with her as with Whittier's sweet Quakeress: + + "For all her quiet life flowed on + As meadow streamlets flow, + Where fresher green reveals alone + The noiseless ways they go." + +Of her outward career, Miss Dewey truly says: "No striking incidents, +no remarkable occurrences will be found in it, but the gradual +unfolding and ripening amid congenial surroundings of a true and +beautiful soul, a clear and refined intellect, and a singularly +sympathetic social nature. She was born eighty years ago"--this was +written in 1871,--"when the atmosphere was still electric with the +storm in which we took our place among the nations, and, passing her +childhood in the seclusion of a New England valley, while yet her +family was linked to the great world without by ties both political +and social, early and deep foundations were laid in her character of +patriotism, religious feeling, love of nature, and strong attachment +to home, and to those who made it what it was. And when in later life, +she took her place among the acknowledged leaders of literature and +society, these remained the central features of her character, and +around them gathered all the graceful culture, the active +philanthropy, the social accomplishment, which made her presence a joy +wherever it came." + +It is not singular if she began her existence at a somewhat advanced +stage. She was quite sure she remembered incidents that took place +before she was two years old. She remembered a dinner party at which +Miss Susan Morton, afterward Madame Quincy, was present, and to which +her father and her brother, Theodore, came from Philadelphia. If you +are anxious to know what incidents of such an event would fix +themselves in the mind of a child of two, they were these: She made +her first attempt to say "Theodore," and "Philadelphia," and she tried +her baby trick of biting her glass, for which she had doubtless been +reproved, and watched its effect upon her father. "I recall perfectly +the feeling with which I turned my eye to him, expecting to see that +brow cloud with displeasure, but it was smooth as love could make it. +That consciousness, that glance, that assurance, remained stamped +indelibly." + +"Education in the common sense," says Miss Sedgwick, "I had next to +none." For schools, she fared like other children in Stockbridge, with +the difference that her father was "absorbed in political life," her +mother, in Catharine's youth an invalid, died early, and no one, she +says, "dictated my studies or overlooked my progress. I remember +feeling an intense ambition to be at the head of my class, and +generally being there. Our minds were not weakened by too much study; +reading, spelling, and Dwight's geography were the only paths of +knowledge into which we were led;" to which accomplishments she adds +as an after-thought, grammar and arithmetic. + +Nevertheless, when in 1838, six of the Sedgwick family travelled +together through France and Italy, doing much of those sunny lands on +foot, Miss Sedgwick was interpreter for the party in both countries, +apparently easy mistress of their respective languages. It is +remarkable what fine culture seems to have been attainable by a New +England child born more than a hundred years ago, when Harvard and +Yale were, as we are told, mere High Schools, and Radcliffe and +Wellesley were not even dreamed of. Instead of Radcliffe or Wellesley, +Miss Sedgwick attended a boarding school in Albany, at the age of +thirteen and, at the age of fifteen, another in Boston, the latter for +six months, and the former could not have been more than two years. +Both, according to her, gave her great social advantages, and did +little for her scholarship. Miss Bell, the head of the Albany school, +"rose late, was half the time out of the school, and did very little +when in it." + +Miss Paine's school in Boston, let us hope, was better; but "I was at +the most susceptible age. My father's numerous friends in Boston +opened their doors to me. I was attractive in my appearance"--she is +writing this to a niece and it is probably all true--"and, from always +associating on equal terms with those much older than myself, I had a +mental maturity rather striking, and with an ignorance of the world, a +romantic enthusiasm, an aptitude at admiring and loving that +altogether made me an object of general interest. I was admired and +flattered. Harry and Robert were then resident graduates at Cambridge. +They were too inexperienced to perceive the mistake I was making; they +were naturally pleased with the attentions I was receiving. The winter +passed away in a series of bewildering gayeties. I had talent enough +to be liked by my teachers, and good nature to secure their good will. +I gave them very little trouble in any way. When I came home from +Boston I felt the deepest mortification at my waste of time and money, +though my father never said one word to me on the subject. For the +only time in my life I rose early to read French, and in a few weeks +learned more by myself than I had acquired all winter." + +It will be seen that she had the ability to study without a teacher, +and that is an art which, with time at one's disposal and the stimulus +at hand, assures education. Intellectual stimulus was precisely what +her home furnished. "I was reared in an atmosphere of high +intelligence. My father had uncommon mental vigor. So had my brothers. +Their daily habits and pursuits and pleasures, were intellectual, and +I naturally imbibed from them a kindred taste. Their talk was not of +beeves, nor of making money; that now universal passion had not +entered into men and possessed them as it does now, or if it had, it +was not in the sanctuary of our home,--there the money-changers did +not come." + +The more we know of her home life, the less wonder we have at her +mental development. She says that "at the age of eight, my father, +whenever he was at home, kept me up and at his side till nine o'clock +in the evening, to listen to him while he read aloud to the family +Hume, or Shakspere, or Don Quixote, or Hudibras. Certainly I did not +understand them, but some glances of celestial light reached my soul, +and I caught from his magnetic sympathy some elevation of feeling, and +that love of reading which has been to me an education." A modern +girl is liable to nervous prostration without being kept up till nine +on such juvenile literature as Hume and Shakspere at the age of eight; +but Miss Sedgwick was a country girl who, in youth, lived out of doors +and romped like a boy and, at the age of fifty, led a party of young +nieces through France, Switzerland, and Italy, much of the way on foot +and always at their head. Always fortune's favorite, she enjoyed among +other things remarkably good health. + +She thinks she was ten years old when she read Rollin's Ancient +History, spending the noon intermission, when of course she ought to +have been at play, out of sight under her desk, where she "read, and +munched, and forgot myself in Cyrus's greatness." + +A winter in New York, where she afterward spent so much of her time, +was her first absence from home. She had a married sister there whose +husband was in government employ, and her oldest brother was there +studying law. She was eleven years old; the date was 1801; and her +business in New York seems to have been to attend a French Dancing +School of which at that era there was but one in the city. She saw her +first play, and used to dry the still damp newspaper, in her +eagerness to read the theatre announcements. She also experienced a +very severe humiliation. She, with her brother, Theodore, attended a +large dinner party at the house of a friend of her father. "Our host +asked me, the only stranger guest, which part of a huge turkey, in +which he had put his carving fork, I would take. I knew only one point +of manners for such occasions, dear Alice,--that I must specify some +part, and as ill luck would have it, the side-bone came first into my +head, and 'Side-bone, sir,' I said. Oh what a lecture I got when we +got home, the wretched little chit that compelled a gentleman to cut +up a whole turkey to serve her! I cried myself to sleep that night." +It was too bad to spoil that dinner party for the little girl. + +Her mother died when Miss Sedgwick was seventeen; her father when she +was twenty-three. All her brothers and sisters were married and +living, three of them in New York city, one in Albany, and one, her +youngest brother, in Lenox. With this brother in Lenox, Miss Sedgwick +for many happy years, had her home, at least her summer home, having +five rooms in an annex to his house built for her, into which she +gathered her household gods and where she dispensed hospitality to +her friends. For many years, New York city was generally her winter +home. + +Theoretically, we have arrived with this maiden at the age of +twenty-three, but we must go back and read from one or two early +letters. She is ten years old when, under date of 1800, she writes her +father: "My dear papa,--Last week I received a letter from you which +gave me inexpressible pleasure." This is the child's prattle of a girl +of ten summers. She writes very circumspectly for her years of a new +brother-in-law: "I see--indeed I think I see in Mr. Watson everything +that is amiable. I am very much pleased with him; indeed we all are." +The following is dated 1801, when she is eleven: "You say in your last +letters that the time will soon come when you will take leave of +Congress forever. That day shall I, in my own mind, celebrate forever; +yes, as long as I live I shall reflect upon the dear time when my dear +papa left a public life to live in a retired one with his dear wife +and children; then you will have the pleasure to think, when you quit +the doors of the House, that you are going to join your family +forever; but, my dear papa, I cannot feel as you will when looking +back on your past life in Congress. You will remember how much you +have exerted yourself in order to save your country." + +There was something in the relations of this Sedgwick family, not +perhaps without parallel, but very beautiful. These brothers and +sisters write to each other like lovers. To her brother Robert, Miss +Sedgwick writes, "I have just finished, my dear brother, the second +perusal of your kind letter received to-day.... I do love my brothers +with perfect devotedness, and they are such brothers as may put +gladness into a sister's spirit.... Never, my dear Robert, did brother +and sister have a more ample experience of the purity of love, and the +sweet exchange of offices of kindness that binds hearts indissolubly +together." + +There are three letters from Robert Sedgwick to show how he +reciprocated this affection. He says: "I can never be sufficiently +grateful to my Maker for having given me such a sister. If I had no +other sin to answer for than that of being so unworthy of her as I am, +it would be more than I can bear, and yet when I read your letters I +almost think that I am what I should be. I know I have a strong +aspiration to be such, and I am sure they make me better as well as +happier." Again, he says: "Thanks, thanks--how cold a word, my dearest +Kate, in return for your heart-cheering letter! It came to me in the +midst of my Nol Pros., special verdicts, depositions, protests, +business correspondence, etc., like a visitant from the skies. Indeed, +my dearest Kate, you may laugh at me if you will for saying so, but +there is something about your influence over me which seems to have +shuffled off this mortal coil of earthiness; to be unmixed with +anything that remains to be perfected; to be perfectly spiritualized, +and yet to retain its contact with every part of its subject.... Lest +I should talk foolishly on this subject, I will dismiss it, only +begging you not to forget how your letters cheer, rejoice, elevate, +renovate me." + +Here is a love-letter from Theodore, her eldest brother: "Having this +moment perused your letter the third time, I could not help giving you +an answer to it, though there be nothing in it interrogative. Nor was +it meant to be tender or sentimental, or learned, but like all your +letters, it is so sweet, so excellent, so natural, so much without +art, and yet so much beyond art, that, old, cold, selfish, unthankful +as I am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank God that I have such a +sister." Let us revenge ourselves upon these brother and sister lovers +by saying that perhaps they did not feel any more than some other +people, only they had a habit of expressing their feelings. If that +was all, we cannot deny that the habit was very beautiful. + +Why did Miss Sedgwick never marry? We are not distinctly told; but she +did not need to, with such lovers in her own family. Besides, how +could she find any one, in her eyes, equal to those brothers, and how +could she marry any one of lower merit? "I am satisfied," she writes, +"by long and delightful experience, that I can never love any body +better than my brothers. I have no expectation of ever finding their +equal in worth and attraction, therefore--do not be alarmed; I am not +on the verge of a vow of celibacy, nor have I the slightest intention +of adding any rash resolutions to the ghosts of those that have been +frightened to death by the terrors of maiden life; but therefore--I +shall never change my condition until I change my mind." This is at +the age of twenty-three. + +Later in life, after many changes had come, she seems to have wished +she had not been so very hard to suit. Fifteen years roll away, +during which we see one suitor after another, dismissed, when she +writes in a journal not to be read in her life-time, "It is difficult +for one who began life as I did, the primary object of affection to +many, to come by degrees to be first to none, and still to have my +love remain in its full strength, and craving such returns as have no +substitute.... It is the necessity of a solitary condition, an +unnatural state.... From my own experience I would not advise any one +to remain unmarried, for my experience has been a singularly happy +one. My feelings have never been embittered by those slights and +taunts that the repulsive and neglected have to endure; there has been +no period of my life to the present moment when I might not have +allied myself respectably, and to those sincerely attached to me.... I +have troops of friends, some devotedly attached to me, and yet the +result of this very happy experience is that there is no substitute +for those blessings which Providence has placed first, and ordained +that they shall be purchased at the dearest sacrifice." Those who have +paid the price and purchased the blessings may have the satisfaction +of knowing that, according to Miss Sedgwick's mature opinion, they +have chosen the better part. + +We might call this statement the Confessions of an Old Maid who might +have done better. She closes her testimony with an acknowledgment that +she "ought to be grateful and humble," and the "hope, through the +grace of God, to rise more above the world, to attain a higher and +happier state of feeling, to order my house for that better world +where self may lose something of its engrossing power." This religious +attitude was not unusual, nor merely conventional and unmeaning. All +the Sedgwick family seem to have been constitutionally religious. The +mother was almost painfully meek in her protest against her husband's +embarking upon a public career; Mr. Sedgwick has been deterred from +joining a church only by some impossible articles of puritan divinity, +but cannot die happy until he has received the communion from Dr. +Channing; "both my sisters were very religious," says Miss Sedgwick; +while the letters I have quoted from two of her brothers, young +lawyers and men of the world, have the devoutness of the psalms. "I +can never be sufficiently grateful to my Maker for having given me +such a sister," says Robert; and Theodore: "selfish, unthankful as I +am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank God that I have such a +sister." Of course one can use a religious dialect without meaning +much by it, but these Sedgwicks were cultivated people, who thought +for themselves, and did not speak cant to each other. + +Since it was a religious impulse that turned Miss Sedgwick's mind to +literature, it is worth while to follow the thread of her spiritual +history. This was written at the age of twenty when she was looking +for a religious experience that never came, and would have considered +herself one of the wicked: "On no subject would I voluntarily be +guilty of hypocricy, and on that which involves all the importance of +our existence I should shrink from the slightest insincerity. You +misunderstood my last letter. I exposed to you a state of mind and +feeling produced, not by religious impressions, but by the convictions +of reason." Of course "reason" was no proper organ of religion; but +besides this defect, her interest in serious things was liable to +interruption "by the cares and pleasures of the world" and, perhaps +worst of all, "I have not a fixed belief on some of the most material +points of our religion." One does not see how a person in this state +of mind should have anything to call "our religion." She seems to have +advanced much further in a letter to her brother Robert, three years +later: "I long to see you give your testimony of your acceptance of +the forgiving love of your Master. + +... God grant, in his infinite mercy, that we may all touch the +garment of our Savior's righteousness and be made whole." + +The editor of these letters tells us that Miss Sedgwick is now a +member of Dr. Mason's church in New York city, having joined at the +age of twenty, or soon after the letter in which she says she is not +satisfied on certain points of doctrine. Dr. Mason is described as an +undiluted Calvinist, "who then was the most conspicuous pulpit orator +in the country--a man confident in his faith and bold to audacity." +Miss Sedgwick stands the strong meat of Calvinism ten years, when we +have this letter. "I presume you saw the letter I wrote Susan, in +which I said that I did not think I should go to Dr. Mason's Church +again.... You know, my dear Frances, that I never adopted some of the +articles of the creed of that church and some of those upon which the +doctor is fond of expatiating, and which appear to me both +unscriptural and very unprofitable, and, I think, very demoralizing." + +What perhaps stimulated the zeal of Dr. Mason to insist upon doctrines +always objectionable to Miss Sedgwick, was an attempt then being made +to establish a Unitarian church in New York city. She has not joined +in the movement, but does not know but it may come to that. It is a +critical moment in Miss Sedgwick's history, and it happened at this +time she went to hear Dr. Mason's farewell sermon. "As usual," she +says, "he gave the rational Christians an anathema. He said they had +fellowship with the devil: no, he would not slander the devil, they +were worse, etc." Very possibly this preaching had its proper effect +upon many hearers, and they gave the "rational Christians" a wide +berth, but it precipitated Miss Sedgwick into their ranks. She was not +then a thorough-going Unitarian, saying, "there are some of your +articles of unbelief that I am not Protestant enough to subscribe to"; +a little more gentleness on the part of Dr. Mason could have kept her, +but she could not stand "what seems to me," she says, "a gross +violation of the religion of the Redeemer, and an insult to a large +body of Christians entitled to respect and affection." + +She joined the tabooed circle in 1821, and wrote from Stockbridge, +"Some of my friends here have, as I learn, been a little troubled, but +after the crime of confessed Unitarianism, nothing can surprise them"; +she longs to look upon a Christian minister who does not regard her as +"a heathen and a publican." An aunt, very fond of her, said to her, +one day as they were parting, "Come and see me as often as you can, +dear, for you know, after this world we shall never meet again." + +These religious tribulations incited her to write a short story, after +the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, to contrast two kinds of +religion, of one of which she had seen more than was good. The story +was to appear as a tract, but it outgrew the dimensions of a tract, +and was published as a book under the title of "A New England Tale." +It is not a masterpiece of literature but, like all of Miss Sedgwick's +works, it contains some fine delineations of character and vivid +descriptions of local scenery. It can be read to-day with interest and +pleasure. As a dramatic presentation of the self-righteous and the +meek, in a New England country town a century ago, it is very +effective. "Mrs. Wilson" is perhaps a more stony heart than was common +among the 'chosen vessels of the Lord,' but so the Pharisee in the +parable may have been a trifle exaggerated. The advantage of this kind +of writing is that you do not miss the point of the story. + +Miss Dewey says The New England Tale gave Miss Sedgwick an "immediate +position in the world of American literature." Her brother Theodore +wrote, "It exceeds all my expectations, fond and flattering as they +were"; her brother Harry, "I think, dear Kate, that your destiny is +fixed. As you are such a Bibleist, I only say don't put your light +under a bushel." That the book did not fall still-born is evident when +he says further, "The orthodox do all they can to put it down." On the +other hand, her publisher wanted to print a cheap edition of 3,000 +copies for missionary purposes. I should like to see that done to-day +by some zealous liberal-minded publisher. + +The New England Tale appeared in 1822, when Cooper had only published +"Precaution" and "The Spy." In 1824, Miss Sedgwick published +"Redwood," of which a second edition was called for the same year, +and which was republished in England and translated into French. It +reached distinction in the character of Deborah Lenox, of which Miss +Edgworth said, "It is to America what Scott's characters are to +Scotland, valuable as original pictures." Redwood was reviewed by +Bryant in the North American, in an article which, he says, was up to +that time his "most ambitious attempt in prose." "Hope Leslie" +appeared in 1827. It was so much better than its predecessors, said +the _Westminster Review_, that one would not suppose it by the same +hand. Sismondi, the Swiss historian, wrote the author a letter of +thanks and commendation, which was followed by a life-long friendship +between these two authors. Mrs. Child, then Miss Francis and the +author of "Hobomok" and "The Rebels," wrote her that she had nearly +completed a story on Capt. John Smith which now she will not dare to +print, but she surrenders with less reluctance, she says, "for I love +my conqueror." "Is not that beautiful?" says Miss Sedgwick. "Better to +write and to feel such a sentiment than to indite volumes." + +"Clarence" was published in 1830, and I am glad to say, she sold the +rights to the first edition for $1,200, before the critics got hold +of it. The scene is laid in New York and in high life. The story, said +the _North American Review_, is "improbable" but not "dull." Miss +Dewey says, "It is the most romantic and at the same time the wittiest +of her novels," but Bryant says it has been the least read. "The +Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in America," appeared in 1835, and +Bryant called it "a charming tale of home life, thought by many to be +the best of her novels properly so called." + +If Miss Sedgwick had written none of these more elaborate works, she +would deserve a permanent place in our literature for a considerable +library of short stories, among which I should name "A Berkshire +Tradition," a pathetic tale of the Revolution; "The White Scarf," a +romantic story of Mediæval France; "Fanny McDermot," a study of +conventional morality; "Home," of which the _Westminster Review_ said, +"We wish this book was in the hands of every mechanic in England"; +"The Poor Rich Man and the Rich Poor Man" of which Joseph Curtis, the +philanthropist, said, "in all his experiences he had never known so +much good fruit from the publication of any book"; and, not least, +"Live and let Live: or domestic service illustrated," of which Dr. +Channing wrote, "I cannot, without violence to my feelings, refrain +from expressing to you the great gratification with which I have read +your 'Live and let Live.' Thousands will be better and happier for +it.... Your three last books, I trust, form an era in our literature." + +This was high praise, considering that there was then no higher +literary authority in America than Dr. Channing. However, a message +from Chief Justice Marshall, through Judge Story, belongs with it: +"Tell her I have read with great pleasure everything she has written, +and wish she would write more." She had gained an enviable position in +literature and she had done a great deal of useful work during the +fifteen years since the timid appearance of "A New England Tale," but +she seems to have regarded her books as simply a "by-product": "My +author existence has always seemed something accidental, extraneous, +and independent of my inner self. My books have been a pleasant +occupation and excitement in my life.... But they constitute no +portion of my happiness--that is, of such as I derive from the dearest +relations of life. When I feel that my writings have made any one +happier or better, I feel an emotion of gratitude to Him who has made +me the medium of any blessing to my fellow creatures." + +In 1839, Miss Sedgwick went to Europe in company with her brother +Robert, and other relatives. The party was abroad two years and, on +its return, Miss Sedgwick collected her European letters and published +them in two volumes. They give one a view of Europe as seen by an +intelligent observer still in the first half of the last century. She +breakfasted with Rogers, the banker and poet, with whom she met +Macaulay whose conversation was to her "rich and delightful. Some +might think he talks too much; but none, except from their own +impatient vanity, could wish it were less." She had tea at Carlyle's, +found him "simple, natural and kindly, his conversation as picturesque +as his writings." She "had an amusing evening at Mr. Hallam's"; he +made her "quite forget he was the sage of the 'Middle Ages.'" At +Hallam's she met Sydney Smith who was "in the vein, and we saw him, I +believe, to advantage. His wit is not, as I expected, a succession of +brilliant explosions but a sparkling stream of humor." + +In Geneva, she visited her friends, the Sismondis, and in Turin +received a call from Silvio Pellico, martyr to Italian liberty. "He is +of low stature and slightly made, a sort of etching of a man with +delicate and symmetrical features, just enough body to gravitate and +keep the spirit from its natural upward flight--a more shadowy Dr. +Channing." + +Soon after Miss Sedgwick's return from Europe, she became connected +with the Women's Prison Association of New York City, of which from +1848 to 1863 she was president. An extract from one letter must +suffice to suggest the nature of her activities in connection with +this and kindred philanthropies: "It is now just ten, and I have come +up from the City Hall, in whose dismal St. Giles precincts I have been +to see a colored ragged school.... My Sundays are not days of rest.... +My whole soul is sickened; and to-day when I went to church filled +with people in their fine summer clothes, and heard a magnificent +sermon from Dr. Dewey, and thought of the streets and dens through +which I had just walked, I could have cried out, Why are ye here?" + +A fellow-member of the Prison Association, who often accompanied her +on her visits to hospitals and prisons, "especially the Tombs, +Blackwell's, and Randall's Island," says, "In her visitations, she was +called upon to kneel at the bedside of the sick and dying. The +sweetness of her spirit, and the delicacy of her nature, felt by all +who came within her atmosphere, seemed to move the unfortunate to ask +this office of her, and it was never asked in vain." + +Always a philanthropist, Miss Sedgwick was not a "reformer" in the +technical sense; that is, she did not enlist in the "movements" of her +generation, for Temperance, or Anti-Slavery, or Woman's Rights. She +shrunk from the excesses of the "crusaders," but she was never slow in +striking a blow in a good cause. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was published in +1852, but its indictment of slavery is not more complete than Miss +Sedgwick made in "Redwood," her second novel, twenty-five years +before. A planter's boy sees a slave starved to famishing and then +whipped to death. It hurt his boy heart, but he afterward became +hardened to such necessary severity and he tells the story to a fellow +planter with apologies for his youthful sentimentality. Does "Uncle +Tom's Cabin" show more clearly the two curses of slavery: cruelty to +the slave and demoralization to the master? + +She sympathized with the abolitionists in their purpose but not always +with their methods: "The great event of the past week has been the +visit of the little apostle of Abolitionism--Lucy Stone." This was in +1849 when Mrs. Stone was thirty-one. "She has one of the very sweetest +voices I ever heard, a readiness of speech and grace that furnish the +external qualifications of an orator--a lovely countenance too--and +the intensity, entire forgetfulness and the divine calmness that fit +her to speak in the great cause she has undertaken." But in spite of +this evident sympathy with the purpose of the Abolitionists, Miss +Sedgwick declined to attend a meeting of the Anti-Slavery Society, +saying: "It seemed to me that so much had been intemperately said, so +much rashly urged, on the death of that noble martyr, John Brown, by +the Abolitionists, that it was not right to appear among them as one +of them." + +Not even Lucy Stone, however, could have felt more horror at the +institution of slavery. The Compromise Measures of 1850 made her +shudder: "my hands are cold as ice; the blood has curdled in my +heart; that word _compromise_ has a bad savor when truth and right are +in question." When the Civil War came, in her seventieth year, she had +"an intense desire to live to see the conclusion of the struggle," but +could not conjecture "how peace and good neighborhood are ever to +follow from this bitter hate." "It is delightful to see the gallantry +of some of our men, who are repeating the heroic deeds that seemed +fast receding to fabulous times." Some of these young heroes were very +near to her. Maj. William Dwight Sedgwick, who fell on the bloody +field of Antietam was her nephew, Gen. John Sedgwick, killed at the +battle of Spottsylvania, was her cousin. + +As she was not in the Anti-Slavery crusade, so she was not in the +Woman's Rights crusade. She wished women to have a larger sphere, and +she did much to enlarge the sphere of her sex, but it was by taking it +and making it, rather than by talking about it. "Your _might_ must be +your _right_," she says in a chapter on The Rights of Women, in "Means +and Ends." Voting did not seem to her a function suited to women: "I +cannot believe it was ever intended that women should lead armies, +harangue in halls of legislation, bustle up to ballot-boxes, or sit +on judicial tribunals." The gentle Lucy Stone would not have +considered this argument conclusive, but it satisfied Miss Sedgwick. + +In 1857, after a silence of twenty-two years, in which only short +stories and one or two biographies came from her hand, she published +another two-volume novel entitled, "Married or Single." It is perhaps +her best work; at least it has been so considered by many readers. She +was then sixty-seven and, though she had ten more years to live, they +were years of declining power. These last years were spent at the home +of her favorite niece, Mrs. William Minot, Jr., in West Roxbury, +Mass., and there tenderly and reverently cared for, she died in 1867. + +Bryant, who was her life-long friend, and who, at her instance wrote +some of his hymns, gives this estimate of her character: "Admirable as +was her literary life, her home life was more so; and beautiful as +were the examples set forth in her writings, her own example was, if +possible, still more beautiful. Her unerring sense of rectitude, her +love of truth, her ready sympathy, her active and cheerful +beneficence, her winning and gracious manners, the perfection of high +breeding, make up a character, the idea of which, as it rests in my +mind, I would not exchange for anything in her own interesting works +of fiction." + + + + +II + +MARY LOVELL WARE + + +[Illustration: MARY LOVELL WARE] + +Of all the saints in the calendar of the Church there is no name more +worthy of the honor than that of Mary Lovell Ware. The college of +cardinals, which confers the degree of sainthood for the veneration of +faithful Catholics, will never recognize her merits and encircle her +head with a halo, but when the list of Protestant saints is made up, +the name of Mary L. Ware will be in it, and among the first half dozen +on the scroll. + +The writer was a student in the Divinity School at Cambridge when a +classmate commended to him the Memoirs of Mrs. Ware as one of the few +model biographies. It was a book not laid down in the course of study; +its reading was postponed for that convenient season for which one +waits so long; but he made a mental note of the "Memoirs of Mary L. +Ware," which many years did not efface. There is a book one must read, +he said to himself, if he would die happy. + +Mrs. Ware's maiden name was Pickard. To the end of her days, when she +put herself in a pillory as she often did, she called herself by her +maiden name. "That," she would say, "was Mary Pickard." I infer that +she thought Mary Pickard had been a very bad girl. + +Her mother's name was Lovell,--Mary Lovell,--granddaughter of "Master +Lovell," long known as a classical teacher in colonial Boston, and +daughter of James Lovell, an active Revolutionist, a prominent member +of the Continental Congress and, from the end of the war to his death, +Naval officer in the Boston Custom House. Mr. Lovell had eight sons, +one of whom was a successful London merchant, and one daughter, who +remained with her parents until at twenty-five she married Mr. Pickard +and who, when her little girl was five years old returned, as perhaps +an only daughter should, to take care of her parents in their old age. +So it happened that the childhood of Mrs. Ware was passed at her +grandfather Lovell's, in Pearl St., Boston, then an eligible place of +residence. + +Mr. Pickard was an Englishman by birth, and a merchant with business +connections in London and Boston, between which cities, for a time, +his residence alternated. Not much is said of him in the Memoirs, +beyond the fact that he was an Episcopalian with strong attachment to +the forms of his church, as an Englishman might be expected to be. + +Of Mrs. Pickard we learn more. She is said to have possessed a vigorous +mind, to have been well educated and a fine conversationalist, +with a commanding figure, benignant countenance, and dignified +demeanor, so that one said of her, "She seems to have been born for an +empress." Like her husband she was an Episcopalian though, according +to the Memoirs, less strenuously Episcopalian than Mr. Pickard. She +had been reared in a different school. Her father,--Mr. James +Lovell--we are told, was a free-thinker, or as the Memoirs put it, +"had adopted some infidel principles," and "treated religion with +little respect in his family." The "infidels" of that day were +generally good men, only they were not orthodox. Jefferson, Madison, +Franklin and Washington were such infidels. After Channing's day, this +kind of man here in New England was absorbed by the Unitarian +movement, and, as a separate class, disappeared. Mrs. Pickard was bred +in this school and she appears never to have forgotten her home +training. "She was unostentatious and charitable," says an early +friend, "and her whole life was an exhibition of the ascendency of +_principle_ over mere taste and feeling." + +Her religious attitude becomes interesting, because in an exceptional +degree, she formed her remarkable daughter,--who was an only child and +until the age of thirteen had no teacher except this forceful and +level-headed mother. + +With these antecedents, Mary Lovell Pickard was born in Boston, +October 2, 1798, John Adams being then President. In 1802, Mary having +passed her third summer, Mr. Pickard's business called him to London, +where he resided with his family two years, so that the child's fifth +birthday was duly celebrated in mid-ocean on the homeward voyage. In a +letter of Mrs. Pickard, written during this London residence, she +says, "Mr. Pickard is even more anxious than I to go home. Mary is the +only contented one. She is happy all the time." There is so much that +is sad in this record that, before we have done, the reader will be +glad the little girl had at least a bright and sunny childhood to +remember. It appears she did remember it. It may not be remarkable, +but it is interesting, that the experiences of this early London +life,--between her third and fifth year,--made an indelible +impression upon her, so that twenty years later when she was again in +England, much to her own delight, she "recognized her old London home +and other objects with which she was then familiar." + +A lady who was a fellow passenger of the Pickards on their homeward +voyage was struck by the gentle management of the mother and the easy +docility of the child. To say, "It will make me unhappy if you do +that," was an extreme exercise of maternal authority, to which the +child yielded unresisting obedience. This, of course, is told to the +credit of the child, but the merit, probably belongs to the mother. +Doubtless we could all have such children if we were that kind of a +parent. A little tact, unfailing gentleness, and an infinite self +control: with these, it would seem one may smile and kiss a child into +an angel. + +On arriving in Boston, Mrs. Pickard took her family to her father's, +where she remained until her death, and where, we read, "with parents +and grandparents, Mary found a home whose blessings filled her heart." +Being an only child, with four elderly persons, Mary was likely to be +too much petted or too much fretted. We are glad to know that she was +not fretted or over-trained. In a letter of retrospect, she writes, +"For many years a word of blame never reached my ears." An early +friend of the family writes, "It has been said that Mary was much +indulged; and I believe it may be said so with truth. But she was not +indulged in idleness, selfishness, and rudeness; she was indulged in +healthful sports, in pleasant excursions, and in companionship with +other children." + +Everything went smoothly with her until the age of ten when, rather +earlier than most children, she discovered her conscience: "At ten +years of age I waked up to a sense of the danger of the state of +indulgence in which I was living"; but let us hope the crisis was not +acute. It does not seem to have been. According to the testimony of +her first teacher, she was simply precocious morally, but not at all +morbid. Her school was at Hingham, whither she was sent at the age of +thirteen. The teacher says that with her "devotedness to the highest +objects and purposes of our existence, she was one of the most lively +and playful girls among her companions, and a great favorite with them +all." + +There seems to have been really no cloud upon her existence up to this +point,--the age of thirteen. I have had a reason for dwelling upon +this charming period of her childhood, untroubled by a cloud, because +from this date until her death, the hand of God seems to have been +very heavy upon her, afflictions fell upon her like rain, and it +required a brave spirit to carry the burdens appointed for her to +bear. Happily, she had a brave spirit, did not know that her life was +hard, "gloried in tribulation," like St. Paul, and was never more +cheerful or thankful than when she was herself an invalid, with an +invalid husband to be cared for like a baby, seven children to be +clothed and fed, and not enough money at the year's end to square +accounts. Ruskin tells of a servant who had served his mother +faithfully fifty-seven years. "She had," he says, "a natural gift and +specialty for doing disagreeable things; above all, the service of the +sick-room; so that she was never quite in her glory unless some of us +were ill." It will be seen further on that these were only a part of +the accomplishments of Mrs. Ware. It is fortunate if a woman is so +made that her spirits rise as her troubles thicken, but the reader of +the story will be thankful that her life was not all a battle, that +her childhood was more than ordinarily serene and sunny, and that not +for a dozen years at least, did she have to be a heroine in order to +be happy. + +Mary had been in Hingham about half a year, enjoying her school-girl +life, when her mother was taken ill, fatally ill as it proved, and the +child, then at the age of thirteen, was called home and installed in +the sick-room as nurse. This was the beginning of sorrow. The mother +lingered through the winter and died in the following May. There +remained of the family, the grandparents, one son of fine talents, but +of unfortunate habits, and her father, "broken in spirits and in +fortune, clinging to his only child with doting and dependent +affection." We can see that it could not have been a cheerful home for +a young girl of thirteen. Some thirty years later, she wrote to one of +her children, "I think I have felt the want all my life of a more +cheerful home in my early childhood, a fuller participation in the +pleasures and 'follies' of youth." I put this reflection here, because +it does not apply to the years preceding the loss of her mother while +it exactly fits the period that now follows. + +The year following her mother's death, Mary attended a girls' school +in Boston. A passage from a letter written at this period will show +something of her quality. It is dated February 27, 1813, when she was +fourteen and a few months. Besides, she had been at school, six months +at a time, a total of about one year. She had been mentioning two or +three novels, and then discourses as follows: "Novels are generally +supposed to be improper books for young people, as they take up the +time which ought to be employed in more useful pursuits; which is +certainly very true; but as a recreation to the mind, such books as +these cannot possibly do any hurt, as they are good moral lessons. +Indeed, I think there is scarcely any book from which some good may +not be derived; though it cannot be expected that any young person has +judgment enough to leave all the bad and take only the good, when +there is a great proportion of the former." Perhaps I am wrong in +thinking this an exhibition of remarkable reflection and expression in +a girl well under fifteen, whether she had been at school or +otherwise. Mrs. Ware was always a wonderful letter-writer, though, if +we take her word for it, she had little of her mother's gift as a +conversationalist. It seems to have been a life-long habit to see the +old year out and the new year in, spending the quiet hours in writing +letters to her friends. In one of these anniversary letters, written +when she was fifteen, she says, "I defy anyone to tell from my +appearance that I have not everything to make me happy. I have much +and am happy. My little trials are essential to my happiness." In that +last sentence we have the entire woman. Her trials were always, as she +thought, essential to her happiness. + +On this principle, her next twelve years ought to have been very +happy, since they were sufficiently full of tribulation. The two years +following her mother's death, passed in the lonely home in Boston, +were naturally depressing. Besides, she was born for religion, and the +experience through which she had passed had created a great hunger in +her soul. Trinity Church, into which she had been baptized, had not +yet passed through the hands of Phillips Brooks, and its +ministrations, admirable as they are for the ordinary child, were +inadequate for the wants of a thoughtful girl like Mary Pickard. The +final effect was, she says, to throw her more upon herself and to +compel her to seek, "by reading, meditation and prayer, to find that +knowledge and stimulus to virtue which I failed to find in the +ministrations of the Sabbath." + +At this critical period, she returned to the school at Hingham, which +she had left two years before, and there, in the Third Church, then +presided over by Rev. Henry Colman, one of the fathers of the +Unitarian heresy, she found peace and satisfaction to her spirit. Ten +years later, she spent a week in Hingham, visiting friends and +reviving, as she says, the memory of the "first awakening of my mind +to high and holy thoughts and resolves." The crisis which, elsewhere, +we read of at the age of ten, was a subordinate affair. This Hingham +experience, at the age of sixteen, was really the moral event in her +history. + +As hers was a type of religion,--she would have said "piety",--a blend +of reason and sentiment, peculiar to the Unitarianism of that +generation, hardly to be found in any household of faith to-day, we +must let her disclose her inner consciousness. One Saturday morning, +she writes a long letter to one of her teachers saying that she feels +it a duty and a privilege "to be a member of the Church of Christ," +but she fears she does not understand what the relation implies, and +says, "Tell me if you should consider it a violation of the sacredness +of the institution, to think I might with impunity be a member of it. +I am well aware of the condemnation denounced on those who _partake_ +unworthily." She refers to the Lord's Supper. It is to be hoped that +her teacher knew enough to give the simple explanation of that dark +saying of the apostle about eating unworthily. At all events, she +connected herself with the church, received the communion, and was +very happy. "From the moment I had decided what to do, not a feeling +arose which I could wish to suppress; conscious of pure motives, all +within was calm, and I wondered how I could for a moment hesitate. +They were feelings I never before experienced, and for once I realized +that it is only when we are at peace with ourselves that we can enjoy +true happiness.... I could not sleep, and actually laid awake all +night out of pure happiness." + +After a few months, sooner than she expected, she returns to Boston +and sits under the ministrations of Dr. Channing, to her an object of +veneration. She writes that her heart is too full for utterance: "It +will not surprise you that Mr. Channing's sermons are the cause; but +no account that I could give could convey any idea of them. You have +heard some of the same class; they so entirely absorb the feelings as +to render the mind incapable of action, and consequently leave on the +memory at times no distinct impression." I should like to quote all +she says of Channing, both as a revelation of him, and of herself. She +heard him read the psalm, "What shall I render unto God for all his +mercies?" and says, "The ascription of praise which followed was more +truly sublime than anything I ever heard or read." It must have been +an event,--it certainly was for her,--to listen to one of Dr. +Channing's prayers: "It seems often to me, while in the hour of prayer +I give myself up to the thought of heaven, as though I had in reality +left the world, and was enjoying what is promised to the Christian. I +fear, however, these feelings are too often delusive; we substitute +the love of holiness for the actual possession." + +There her sanity comes in to check her emotionalism. She is reflecting +upon another experience with Dr. Channing when she comes very near +making a criticism upon him. She tells us that she does not mean him; +he is excepted from these remarks, but she says, "There are few +occasions which will authorize a minister to excite the feelings of an +audience in a very great degree, and none which can make it allowable +for him to rest in mere excitement." To complete the portraiture of +her soul, I will take a passage from a letter written at the age of +twenty-five, when death has at last stripped her of all her family, "I +believe that all events that befall us are exactly such as are best +adapted to improve us; and I find in a perfect confidence in the +wisdom and love which I know directs them, a source of peace which no +other thing can give; and in the difficulty which I find in acting +upon this belief I see a weakness of nature, which those very trials +are designed to assist us in overcoming, and which trial alone can +conquer." + +Mary Pickards were not common even in that generation, but this creed +was then common, and this blend of reason and religious feeling, +fearlessly called "piety," was characteristic of Channing, her +teacher, and of Henry Ware, afterward her husband. It was the real +"Channing Unitarianism." Pity there is no more of it. + +Mary was sixteen years old,--to be exact, sixteen and a half; the +serene and beautiful faith of Channing had done its perfect work upon +her; and she was now ready for whatever fate, or as she would have +said, Providence, might choose to send. It sent the business failure +of Mr. Pickard, in which not only his own fortune was swept away but +also the estate of Mr. Lovell was involved. Upon the knowledge of this +disaster, Mary wrote a cheerful letter, in which she said: "I should +be sorry to think you consider me so weak as to bend under a change of +fortune to which all are liable." Certainly she will not bend, but she +is obliged to quit school and return to the shattered home. + +Before the summer was over, her grandfather, Mr. Lovell, died; whether +the end was hastened by the financial embarrassments in which Mr. +Pickard had involved him, is not said. Mrs. Lovell, the grandmother, +followed her husband in two years,--for Mary, two years of assiduous +nursing and tender care. Perhaps one sentence from a letter at this +time will assist us in picturing her in this exacting service. She +says that she is leading a monotonous existence, that her animal +spirits are not sufficient for both duty and solitude, "And when +evening closes, and my beloved charge is laid peacefully to rest, +excitement ceases, and I am thrown on myself for pleasure." + +With the death of the grandmother, the home was broken up, and Mary, +trying to help her father do a little business without capital, went +to New York city as his commercial agent. Her letters to her father +are "almost exclusively business letters," and he on his part gives +her "directions for the sale and purchase, not only of muslins and +moreens, but also of skins, saltpetre, and the like." + +Details of this period of her career are not abundant in the Memoirs, +and the death of her father, in 1823, put an end to her business +apprenticeship. + +Apparently, she was not entirely destitute. At the time of his +disaster, her father wrote, "As we calculated you would, after some +time, have enough to support yourself, without mental or bodily +exertion." That is, presumably, after the settlement of her +grandfather's estate. As her biographer says, "Every member of her own +family had gone, and she had smoothed the passage of everyone." But +she had many friends, and one is tempted to say, Pity she could not +have settled down in cozy quarters and made herself comfortable. + +Indeed she did make a fair start. She joined a couple of friends, +going abroad in search of health, for a visit to England. She had +relatives on the Lovell side, in comfortable circumstances near +London, and an aunt on her father's side, in the north of England, in +straightened circumstances. She resolved to make the acquaintance of +all these relatives. + +The party arrived in Liverpool in April, 1824, and for a year and a +half, during which their headquarters were in London, Paris was +visited, Southern England and Wales were explored, and finally the +Lovell relatives were visited and found to have good hearts and open +arms. For these eighteen months, Mary Pickard's friends could have +wished her no more delightful existence. She had tea with Mrs. +Barbauld, heard Irving, then the famous London preacher, and saw other +interesting persons and charming things in England. There is material +for a very interesting chapter upon this delightful experience. It was +followed by a drama of misery and horror, in which she was both +spectator and actor, when young and old died around her as if smitten +by pestilence, and her own vigorous constitution was irreparably +broken. + +This episode was vastly more interesting to her than the pleasant +commonplace of travel, and much more in keeping with what seems to +have been her destiny. In the autumn of her second year abroad, she +went to discover her aunt, sister of Mr. Pickard, in Yorkshire. The +writer of the Memoirs says that this visit "forms the most remarkable +and in some respects the most interesting and important chapter of her +life." She found her aunt much better than she expected, nearly +overpowered with joy to see her, living in a little two story cottage +of four rooms, which far exceeded anything she ever saw for neatness. +The village bore the peculiarly English name of Osmotherly, and was +the most primitive place she had ever been in. The inhabitants were +all of one class and that the poorer class of laborers, ignorant as +possible, but simple and sociable. Terrible to relate, smallpox, +typhus fever, and whooping cough were at that moment epidemic in that +village. + +It will be impossible to put the situation before us more briefly than +by quoting a passage from one of her letters: "My aunt's two daughters +are married and live in this village; one of them, with three +children, has a husband at the point of death with a fever; his +brother died yesterday of smallpox, and two of her children have the +whooping-cough; added to this, their whole dependence is upon their +own exertions, which are of course entirely stopped now.... You may +suppose, under such a state of things, I shall find enough to do." + +The death of the husband, whom of course Miss Pickard nursed through +his illness, is reported in the next letter, which contains also this +characteristic statement, "It seems to me that posts of difficulty are +my appointed lot and my element, for I do feel lighter and happier +when I have difficulties to overcome. Could you look in upon me you +would think it impossible that I could be even tolerably comfortable, +and yet I am cheerful, and get along as easily as possible, and am in +truth happy." + +Evidently, all we can do with such a person is to congratulate her +over the most terrible experiences. In a letter five days later, the +baby dies of whooping-cough, and in her arms; a fortnight later, the +mother dies of typhus fever; within another month, two boys, now +orphans, are down with the same fever at once, and one of them dies. +In the space of eight weeks, she saw five persons of one family +buried, and four of them she had nursed. By this time, the aunt was +ill, and Miss Pickard nursed her to convalescence. + +This campaign had lasted three months, and she left the scene of +combat with a clear conscience. She was allowed a breathing spell of a +month in which to visit some pleasant friends and recuperate her +strength, when we find her back in Osmotherly again nursing her aunt. +It was the end of December and she was the only servant in the house. +Before this ordeal was over, she was taken ill herself, and had to be +put to bed and nursed. In crossing a room, a cramp took her; she fell +on the floor, lay all night in the cold, calling in vain for +assistance. She did not finally escape from these terrible scenes +until the end of January, five months from the time she entered them. + +Miss Pickard returned to Boston after an absence of about two years +and a half, during which time, as one of her friends wrote her, "You +have passed such trying scenes, have so narrowly escaped, and done +more, much more, than almost any body ever did before." She went away +a dear school-girl friend and a valued acquaintance; she was welcomed +home as a martyr fit to be canonized, and was received as a +conquering heroine. + +In a letter dated from Gretna Green, where so many run-away lovers +have been made happy, she playfully reflects upon the possibilities of +her visit, if only she had a lover, and concludes that she "must +submit to single blessedness a little longer." Our sympathies would +have been less taxed if she had submitted to single blessedness to the +end. Why could she not now be quiet, let well enough alone, and make +herself comfortable? Destiny had apparently ordered things for her +quite differently. One cannot avoid his destiny, and it was her +destiny to marry, and marriage was to bring her great happiness, +tempered by great sorrows. + +The man who was to share her happiness and her sorrows was Rev. Henry +Ware, Jr., then the almost idolized minister of the Second Church, in +Boston. Mr. Ware was the son of another Henry Ware, professor of +theology at Harvard, whose election to the chair of theology in 1806 +opened the great Unitarian controversy. Two sons of Professor Ware +entered the ministry, Henry and William, the latter the first +Unitarian minister settled in New York city. Rev. John F. Ware, well +remembered as pastor of Arlington St. Church in Boston, was the son +of Henry, so that for more than half a century, the name of Ware was a +great factor in Unitarian history. + +After Dr. Channing, Henry Ware was perhaps the most popular preacher +in any Boston pulpit. One sermon preached by him on a New Year's eve, +upon the Duty of Improvement, became memorable. In spite of a violent +snow storm, the church was filled to overflowing, a delegation coming +from Cambridge. Of this sermon, a hearer said: "No words from mortal +lips ever affected me like those." There was a difference between +Unitarian preaching then and now. That famous sermon closed like this: +"I charge you, as in the presence of God, who sees and will judge +you,--in the name of Jesus Christ, who beseeches you to come to him +and live,--by all your hopes of happiness and life,--I charge you let +not this year die, and leave you impenitent. Do not dare to utter +defiance in its decaying hours. But, in the stillness of its awful +midnight, prostrate yourselves penitently before your Maker; and let +the morning sun rise upon you, thoughtful and serious men." One does +not see how the so-called 'Evangelicals' could have quarreled with +that preaching. + +Mr. Ware had been in his parish nine years, his age was thirty-two, he +was in the prime of life, and at the climax of his power and his +popularity. Three years before, he had been left a widower with three +young children, one of whom became Rev. John F. Ware. That these two +intensely religious natures, that of Mary Pickard and that of Henry +Ware, should have been drawn together is not singular. In writing to +his sister, Mr. Ware speaks tenderly of his late wife and says, "I +have sought for the best mother to her children, and the best I have +found." Late in life, one of these children said, "Surely God never +gave a boy such a mother or a man such a friend." + +Miss Pickard engaged to be a very docile wife. "Instead of the +self-dependent self-governed being you have known me," she writes to a +friend, "I have learned to look to another for guidance and +happiness." She is "as happy as mortal can be." Indeed it was almost +too much for earth. "It has made me," she says, "more willing to leave +the world and enjoy the happiness of heaven than I ever thought I +should be. Strange that a thing from which of all others, I should +have expected the very opposite effect, should have done this." + +The year following the marriage of these saintly lovers,--one can call +them nothing less,--was one of exceeding happiness and of immense +activity to both. It is not said, but we can see that each must have +been a tonic to the other. Considerate persons felt a scruple about +taking any of the time of their pastor's wife. "Mrs. Ware," said one, +"at home and abroad, is the busiest woman of my acquaintance," and +others felt that way. Before the year ended, Mrs. Ware had a boy baby +of her own to increase her occupations and her happiness. It lived a +few bright years, long enough to become a very attractive child and to +give a severe wrench to her heart when it left her. This experience +seems to have a certain fitness in a life in which every joy was to +bring sorrow and every sorrow, by sheer will, was to be turned to joy. + +Of Mr. Ware, it is said that this first year "was one of the most +active and also, to all human appearance, one of the most successful +of his ministry." He put more work into his sermons, gave increased +attention to the details of his parish, delivered a course of +lectures, and undertook other enterprises, some of which are +specified; and, during a temporary absence of Mrs. Ware, wrote her +that he had hoped he had turned over a new leaf, "but by foolish +degrees, I have got back to all my accustomed carelessness and waste +of powers, and am doing nothing in proportion to what I ought to do." + +But man is mortal, and there is a limit to human endurance. Mr. Ware +could not lash himself into greater activity; but he was in good +condition to be ill. In a journey from Northampton, he was prostrated +by inflammation of the lungs, with hemorrhages, and after several +weeks, Mrs. Ware, herself far from well, went to him and finally +brought him home. This was the beginning of what became a very regular +annual experience. I met a lady who was brought up on the Memoirs of +Mary L. Ware, and who briefly put what had impressed her most, in this +way: She said, "It seemed as though Mr. Ware was always going off on a +journey for his health, and that Mrs. Ware was always going after him +to bring him home"; if we remember this statement, and add the fact +that these calls came more than once when Mrs. Ware was on the sick +list herself, we shall be able greatly to shorten our history. + +This was the end of Mr. Ware's parish work. He was nursed through the +winter and, in early spring, Mrs. Ware left her baby and took her +invalid husband abroad, in pursuit of health, spending a year and a +half in England, Holland, Switzerland, and Italy. It was, she +afterward said, the most trying period of her life. Mr. Ware +alternated between being fairly comfortable and very miserable, so +that these Memoirs say "He enjoyed much, but suffered more." Still the +travels would be interesting if we had time to follow them. + +Near the close of the first year abroad, Mrs. Ware's second child was +born in Rome, and, although this was as she would have said, +"providential," never was a child less needed in a family. Mrs. Ware +had then two babies on her hands, and of these, her invalid husband +was the greater care. In the following August, Mrs. Ware arrived in +Boston with her double charge, and had the happiness to know that Mr. +Ware was somewhat better in health than when he left home, a year and +a half before. + +His parish, during his absence, had been in the care of a colleague, +no other than the Rev. Ralph Waldo Emerson. If you remember the New +Year's Eve sermon of Mr. Ware, it will be evident that he must have +left behind him a very conservative parish, and you will not be +surprised that in about four years, Mr. Emerson found his chains +intolerable. + +Mr. Ware had been invited to a professorship in the Harvard Divinity +School, and it was to this and not to his parish that he returned. For +the steady, one might say monotonous, duties of his professorship, Mr. +Ware's health was generally sufficient. The lecture room did not exact +the several hundred parish calls then demanded by a large city church, +nor the exhausting effort which Mr. Ware and Dr. Channing put into the +delivery of a sermon; and the lectures, once prepared, could be +delivered and re-delivered from year to year. Real leisure was +impossible to one of Mr. Ware's temperament, but here was a life of +comparative leisure; and for Mrs. Ware, who shared all the joys and +sorrows of her husband, the twelve years that follow brought a settled +existence and very much happiness. Neither her own health nor that of +her husband was ever very firm, and there was always a great emptiness +in the family purse, but with Mrs. Ware, these were, as with Paul, +"light afflictions" which were but for a moment, and she did not let +them disturb her happiness. + +Impossible as it may seem, they contributed to her happiness. She made +them contribute to it. She says in a letter of 1831, "Of my winter's +sickness I cannot write; it contained a long life of enjoyment, and +what I hoped would be profitable thought and reflection." She repeats +this statement to another correspondent, and says, with apparent +regret, that the illness did not bring her "to that cheerful +willingness to resign my life, after which I strove." You cannot send +this woman any trial which she will not welcome, because she wants to +be made to want to go to heaven, and she is as yet not quite ready for +it. + +Mr. Ware has been dangerously ill, and of course she could not spare +herself for heaven until he recovered, but this trial did something +quite as good for her: "My husband's danger renewed the so oft +repeated testimony that strength is ever at hand for those who need +it, gave me another exercise of trust in that mighty arm which can +save to the uttermost, and in its result is a new cause for gratitude +to Him who has so abundantly blessed me all the days of my life." It +is good to see what the old-fashioned doctrine that God really is, +and is good, did for one who actually believed. + +That first baby, whom she left behind when she went abroad with her +invalid husband, died in 1831; the mother fainted when the last breath +left the little body; but this is the way she writes of it: "I have +always looked upon the death of children rather as a subject of joy +than sorrow, and have been perplexed at seeing so many, who would bear +what seemed to me much harder trials with firmness, so completely +overwhelmed by this, as is frequently the case." + +After that, one is almost ashamed to mention the trifle that the +income of this family was very small. Mr. Ware, after 1834 _Dr._ Ware, +held a new professorship, the endowment of which was yet mostly +imaginary. The social demands took no account of the family income; +the unexpected guest always dropping in; at certain times, it is said, +"shoals of visitors;" and the larder always a little scantily +furnished. If one wants to know how one ought to live under such +circumstances, here is your shining example. "There were no apologies +at that table," we are told. "If unexpected guests were not always +filled, they were never annoyed, nor suffered to think much about it." +"I remember," says a guest, "the wonder I felt at her humility and +dignity in welcoming to her table on some occasion a troop of +accidental guests, when she had almost nothing to offer but her +hospitality. The absence of all apologies and of all mortification, +the ease and cheerfulness of the conversation, which became the only +feast, gave me a lesson never forgotten, although never learned." + +The problem of dress was as simple to Mrs. Ware as was the +entertainment of her guests. "As to her attire," says an intimate +friend, "we should say no one thought of it at all, because of its +simplicity, and because of her ease of manners and dignity of +character. Yet the impression is qualified, though in one view +confirmed, by hearing that, in a new place of residence, so plain was +her appearance on all occasions, the villagers suspected her of +reserving her fine clothes for some better class." There are those who +might consider these circumstances, very sore privations. What Mrs. +Ware says of them is, "I have not a word of complaint to make. We are +far better provided for than is necessary to our happiness." I am +persuaded that this is an immensely wholesome example and that more of +this kind of woman is needed to mother the children of our generation. +In a letter to one of her daughters, she says she has great sympathy +with the struggles of young people, that she had struggles too and +learned her lessons young, that she found very early in life that her +own position was not in the least affected by these externals, "I soon +began to look upon my oft-turned dress with something like pride, +certainly with great complacency; and to see in that and all other +marks of my mother's prudence and consistency, only so many proofs of +her dignity and self-respect,--the dignity and self-respect which grew +out of her just estimate of the true and the right in herself and in +the world." + +We have seen enough of this woman to discover that she could not be +made unhappy, and also to discover why. It was because her nature was +so large and strong and fine. Sometimes she thinks Dr. Ware would be +better and happier in a parish, "But I have no care about the future +other than that which one must have,--a desire to fulfil the duties +which it may bring." Surely that is being, + + "Self-poised and independent still + On this world's varying good or ill." + +In 1842, Dr. Ware's health became so much impaired that Mrs. Ware +entertains an unfulfilled desire. It is to get away from Cambridge, +which had become so dear to them all. "I scruple not to say that a +ten-foot house, and bread and water diet, with a sense of rest to +_him_, would be a luxury." The family removed to Framingham, where Dr. +Ware died, a year later. Whatever tribulations might be in store for +Mrs. Ware, anxiety on his account was not to be one of them. + +Death came on Friday; on Sunday, Mrs. Ware attended church with all +her family, and the occasion must have been more trying for the +minister who preached to her than for herself. A short service was +held that Sunday evening at six, and "Then," she says, "John and I +brought dear father's body to Cambridge in our own carriage; we could +not feel willing to let strangers do anything in connection with him +which we could do ourselves." Think of that dark, silent lonely ride +from Framingham to Cambridge! But here was a woman who did not spare +herself, and did not ask what somebody would think of her doings. + +After this event, the Memoirs tell us that a gentleman in Milton gave +her a very earnest invitation to go there and take the instruction of +three little children in connection with her own. In this occupation +she spent six years of great outward comfort and usefulness. There is +much in these years, or in the letters of these years, of great +interest and moral beauty. Even with young children to leave, she +speaks of death as serenely as she would of going to Boston. "I do not +feel that I am essential to my children. I do not feel that I am +competent to train them." + +Of her last illness, one of her children wrote, "Never did a sick room +have less of the odor of sickness than that. It was the brightest spot +on earth." "Come with a _smile_," she said to a friend whom she had +summoned for a last farewell, and so went this remarkable and +exceptionally noble woman. + + + + +III + +LYDIA MARIA CHILD + + +[Illustration: LYDIA MARIA CHILD] + +In the second quarter of the nineteenth century, few names in American +literature were more conspicuous than that of Lydia Maria Child, and +among those few, if we except that of Miss Sedgwick, there was +certainly no woman's name. Speaking with that studied reserve which +became its dignity, the _North American Review_ said of her: "We are +not sure that any woman of our country could outrank Mrs. Child. This +lady has been before the public as an author with much success. And +she well deserves it, for in all her works, nothing can be found which +does not commend itself by its tone of healthy morality and good +sense. Few female writers if any have done more or better things for +our literature in the lighter or graver departments." + +Mrs. Child began her literary career in 1824 with "Hobomok, a Tale of +Early Times," and she closed it with a volume of biography, entitled +"Good Wives," in 1871. Between these two dates, covering forty-seven +years, her publications extended to more than thirty titles, and +include stories, poems, biographies, studies in history, in household +economics, in politics, and in religion. "Her books," says Col. +Higginson, "never seemed to repeat each other and belonged to almost +as many different departments as there are volumes"; and while writing +so much, he adds, "she wrote better than most of her contemporaries." + +If she had not done many things so well, she would still have the +distinction of having done several things the first time they were +ever done at all. It has been claimed that she edited the first +American magazine for children, wrote the first novel of puritan +times, published the first American Anti-Slavery book, and compiled +the first treatise upon what is now known as "Comparative Religions," +a science not then named, but now a department in every school of +theology. + +Mrs. Child's maiden name was Francis, and under that name she won her +first fame. She was born in Medford, Mass., Feb. 11, 1802. Her father, +Convers Francis, is said to have been a worthy and substantial +citizen, a baker by trade, and the author of the "Medford Crackers," +in their day second only in popularity to "Medford Rum." He was a man +of strong character, great industry, uncommon love of reading, +zealous anti-slavery convictions, generous and hospitable. All these +traits were repeated in his famous daughter. It was the custom of Mr. +Francis, on the evening before Thanksgiving to gather in his +dependents and humble friends to the number of twenty or thirty, and +feast them on chicken pie, doughnuts and other edibles, sending them +home with provisions for a further festival, including "turnovers" for +the children. Col. Higginson, who had the incident from Mrs. Child, +intimates that in this experience she may have discovered how much +more blessed it is to give than to receive. Certainly, in later life, +she believed and practiced this doctrine like a devotee. + +Mrs. Child began to climb the hill of knowledge under the instruction +of a maiden lady known as "Ma'am Betty," who kept school in her +bedroom which was never in order, drank from the nose of her +tea-kettle, chewed tobacco and much of it, and was shy to a degree +said to have been "supernatural," but she knew the way to the hearts +of children, who were very fond of her and regularly carried her a +Sunday dinner. After "Ma'am Betty," Mrs. Child attended the public +schools in Medford and had a year at a Medford private seminary. + +These opportunities for education were cut off at the age of twelve +apparently by some change in the family fortunes which compelled the +removal of Maria to Norridgewock, Maine, on the borders of the great +northern wilderness, where a married sister was living. An influence +to which she gave chief credit for her intellectual development and +which was not wholly cut off by this removal was that of Convers +Francis, her favorite brother, next older than herself, afterward +minister in Watertown, and professor in the Divinity School of Harvard +University. In later life, Dr. Francis was an encyclopedia of +information and scholarship, very liberal in his views for the time. +Theodore Parker used to head pages in his journal with, "Questions to +ask Dr. Francis." + +Dr. Francis began to prepare for college when Mrs. Child was nine +years old. Naturally the little girl wanted to read the books which +her brother read, and sometimes he seems to have instructed her and +sometimes he tantalized her, but always he stimulated her. Years +afterward she wrote him gratefully, "To your early influence, by +conversation, letters, and example I owe it that my busy energies +took a literary direction at all." + +Norridgewock, her home from her twelfth to her eighteenth year, was +and is a very pretty country village, at that era the residence of +some very cultivated families, but hardly an educational center. As we +hear nothing of schools either there or elsewhere we are led to +suppose that this twelve year old girl had finished her education. If +she lacked opportunities for culture, she carried with her a desire +for it, which is half the battle, and she had the intellectual +stimulus of letters from her brother then in college, who seems to +have presided over her reading. What we know of her life at this +period is told in her letters to this brother. + +The first of these letters which the editors let us see was written at +the age of fifteen. "I have," she says, "been busily engaged reading +Paradise Lost. Homer hurried me along with rapid impetuosity; every +passion that he portrayed I felt; I loved, hated, and resented just as +he inspired me. But when I read Milton I felt elevated 'above this +visible, diurnal sphere.' I could not but admire such astonishing +grandeur of description, such heavenly sublimity of style. Much as I +admire Milton, I must confess that Homer is a much greater favorite." + +It is not strange that a studious brother in college would take +interest in a sister who at the age of fifteen could write him with so +much intelligence and enthusiasm of her reading. The next letter is +two years later when she has been reading Scott. She likes Meg +Merrilies, Diana Vernon, Annot Lyle, and Helen Mac Gregor. She hopes +she may yet read Virgil in his own tongue, and adds, "I usually spend +an hour after I retire for the night in reading Gibbon's Roman Empire. +The pomp of his style at first displeased me, but I think him an able +historian." + +This is from a girl of seventeen living on the edge of the northern +wilderness, and she is also reading Shakspere. "What a vigorous grasp +of intellect," she says, "what a glow of imagination he must have +possessed, but when his fancy drops a little, how apt he is to make +low attempts at wit, and introduce a forced play upon words." She is +also reading the Spectator, and does not think Addison so good a +writer as Johnson, though a more polished one. + +What she was doing with her ever busy hands during this period we are +not told, but her intellectual life ran on in these channels until +she reaches the age of eighteen, when she is engaged to teach a school +in Gardiner, Maine, an event which makes her very happy. "I cannot +talk about books," she writes, "nor anything else until I tell you the +good news, that I leave Norridgewock as soon as the travelling is +tolerable and take a school in Gardiner." It is the terrible month of +March, for country roads in the far north, "the saddest of the year." +She wishes her brother were as happy as she is, though, "All I expect +is that, if I am industrious and prudent, I shall be independent." + +At the conclusion of her school, she took up her residence with her +brother in Watertown, Mass., where one year before, he had been +settled as minister of the first parish. Here a new career opened +before her. Whittier says that in her Norridgewock period, when she +first read Waverly at the house of her physician, she laid down the +book in great excitement, exclaiming, "Why cannot I write a novel?" +Apparently, she did not undertake the enterprise for two years or +more. In 1824, one Sunday after morning service, in her brother's +study, she read an article in the _North American Review_, in which it +was pointed out that there were great possibilities of romance in +early American history. Before the afternoon service, she had written +the first chapter of a novel which was published anonymously the same +year, under the title of "Hobomok: a Tale of Early Times." + +A search through half a dozen Antique Book stores in Boston for a copy +of this timid literary venture I have found to be fruitless, except +for the information that there is sometimes a stray copy in stock, and +that its present value is about three dollars. It is sufficient +distinction that it was the first attempt to extract a romantic +element from early New England history. Its reception by the public +was flattering to a young author. The Boston Athenæum sent her a +ticket granting the privileges of its library. So great and perhaps +unexpected had been its success that for several years, Mrs. Child's +books bore the signature, "By the author of Hobomok." Even "The Frugal +Housewife" was "By the author of Hobomok." + +In 1825, the author of Hobomok published her second novel, entitled, +"The Rebels: a Tale of the Revolution." It is a volume of about 300 +pages, and is still very readable. It ran rapidly through several +editions, and very much increased the reputation of the author of +Hobomok. The work contains an imaginary speech of James Otis, in +which it is said, "England might as well dam up the Nile with +bulrushes as to fetter the step of Freedom, more proud and firm in +this youthful land than where she treads the sequestered glens of +Scotland or couches herself among the magnificent mountains of +Switzerland." This supposed speech of Otis soon found its way into the +School Readers of the day, as a genuine utterance of the Revolutionary +patriot, and as such Col. Higginson says he memorized and declaimed +it, in his youth. + +This literary success was achieved at the age of twenty-three, and the +same year Miss Francis opened a private school in Watertown, which she +continued three years, until her marriage gave her other occupations. +In 1826, she started _The Juvenile Miscellany_, as already mentioned, +said to be the first magazine expressly for children, in this country. +In it, first appeared many of her charming stories afterward gathered +up in little volumes entitled, "Flowers for Children." + +In 1828, she was married to Mr. David Lee Child, then 34 years of age, +eight years older than herself. Whittier describes him, as a young and +able lawyer, a member of the Massachusetts legislature, and editor of +the _Massachusetts Journal_. Mr. Child graduated at Harvard in 1817 +in the class with George Bancroft, Caleb Cushing, George B. Emerson, +and Samuel J. May. Between 1818 and 1824, he was in our diplomatic +service abroad under Hon. Alexander Everett, at that time, Chargé +d'Affaires in the Netherlands. On his return to America, Mr. Child +studied law in Watertown where, at the house of a mutual friend, he +met Miss Lydia Maria Francis. She herself reports this interesting +event under date of Dec. 2, 1824. "Mr. Child dined with us in +Watertown. He possesses the rich fund of an intelligent traveller, +without the slightest tinge of a traveller's vanity. Spoke of the +tardy improvement of the useful arts in Spain and Italy." Nearly two +months pass, when we have this record: "Jan. 26, 1825. Saw Mr. Child +at Mr. Curtis's. He is the most gallant man that has lived since the +sixteenth century and needs nothing but helmet, shield, and +chain-armor to make him a complete knight of chivalry." Not all the +meetings are recorded, for, some weeks later, "March 3," we have this +entry, "One among the many delightful evenings spent with Mr. Child. I +do not know which to admire most, the vigor of his understanding or +the ready sparkle of his wit." + +There can be no doubt that she thoroughly enjoyed these interviews, +and we shall have to discount the statement of any observer who +gathered a different impression. Mr. George Ticknor Curtis, at whose +home some of these interviews took place, was a boy of twelve, and may +have taken the play of wit between the parties too seriously. He says, +"At first Miss Francis did not like Mr. Child. Their intercourse was +mostly banter and mutual criticism. Observers said, 'Those two people +will end in marrying.' Miss Francis was not a beautiful girl in the +ordinary sense, but her complexion was good, her eyes were bright, her +mouth expressive and her teeth fine. She had a great deal of wit, +liked to use it, and did use it upon Mr. Child who was a frequent +visitor; but her deportment was always maidenly and lady-like." + +The engagement happened in this wise. Mr. Child had been admitted to +the bar and had opened an office in Boston. One evening about nine +o'clock he rode out to Watertown on horseback and called at the +Curtises' where Miss Francis then was. "My mother, who believed the +denouement had come," says Mr. Curtis, "retired to her chamber. Mr. +Child pressed his suit earnestly. Ten o'clock came, then eleven, then +twelve. The horse grew impatient and Mr. Child went out once or twice +to pacify him, and returned. At last, just as the clock was striking +one, he went. Miss Francis rushed into my mother's room and told her +she was engaged to Mr. Child." + +There are indications in this communication that Mr. Curtis did not +himself greatly admire Mr. Child and would not have married him, but +he concedes that, "Beyond all doubt, Mrs. Child was perfectly happy in +her relations with him, through their long life." After their +marriage, he says, they went to housekeeping in a "very small house in +Boston," where Mr. Curtis, then a youth of sixteen, visited them and +partook of a simple, frugal dinner which the lady cooked and served +with her own hands, and to which Mr. Child returned from his office, +"cheery and breezy," and we may hope the vivacity of the host may have +made up for the frugality of the entertainment. + +In "Letters from New York," written to the Boston _Courier_, she +speaks tenderly of her Boston home which she calls "Cottage Place" and +declares it the dearest spot on earth. I assume it was this "very +small house" where she began her married life, where she dined the +fastidious Mr. Curtis, and where she seems to have spent eight or +nine happy years. Her marriage brought her great happiness. A friend +says, "The domestic happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Child seemed to me +perfect. Their sympathies, their admiration of all things good, and +their hearty hatred of all things mean and evil, were in entire +unison. Mr. Child shared his wife's enthusiasms and was very proud of +her. Their affection, never paraded, was always manifest." After Mr. +Child's death, Mrs. Child said, "I believe a future life would be of +small value to me, if I were not united to him." + +Mr. Child was a man of fine intellect, with studious tastes and +habits, but there is too much reason to believe that his genius did +not lie in the management of practical life. Details of business were +apparently out of his sphere. "It was like cutting stones with a +razor," says one who knew him. "He was a visionary," says another, +"who always saw a pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow." This was a +kind of defect which, though it cost her dear, Mrs. Child, of all +persons, could most easily forgive. One great success he achieved: +that was in winning and keeping the heart of Mrs. Child. Their married +life seems to have been one long honeymoon. "I always depended," she +says, "upon his richly stored mind, which was able and ready to +furnish needed information on any subject. He was my walking +dictionary of many languages, and my universal encyclopedia. In his +old age, he was as affectionate and devoted as when the lover of my +youth; nay, he manifested even more tenderness. He was often singing, + + 'There's nothing half so sweet in life + As love's _old_ dream.' + +Very often, when he passed me, he would lay his hand softly on my head +and murmur 'Carum Caput.'... He never would see anything but the +bright side of my character. He always insisted upon thinking that +whatever I said was the wisest and whatever I did was the best." + +In the anti-slavery conflict, Mr. Child's name was among the earliest, +and at the beginning of the controversy, few were more prominent. In +1832, he published in Boston a series of articles upon slavery and the +slave-trade; in 1836, another series upon the same subject, in +Philadelphia; in 1837, an elaborate memoir upon the subject for an +anti-slavery society in France, and an able article in a _London +Review_. It is said that the speeches of John Quincy Adams in Congress +were greatly indebted to the writings of Mr. Child, both for facts and +arguments. + +Such, briefly, is the man with whom Mrs. Child is to spend forty-five +years of her useful and happy life. In 1829, the year after her +marriage, she put her twelve months of experience and reflection into +a book entitled, "The Frugal Housewife." "No false pride," she says, +"or foolish ambition to appear as well as others, should induce a +person to live a cent beyond the income of which he is assured." "We +shall never be free from embarrassment until we cease to be ashamed of +industry and economy." "The earlier children are taught to turn their +faculties to some account the better for them and for their parents." +"A child of six years is old enough to be made useful and should be +taught to consider every day lost in which some little thing has not +been done to assist others." We are told that a child can be taught to +braid straw for his hats or to make feather fans; the objection to +which would be that a modern mother would not let a child wear that +kind of hat nor carry the fan. + +The following will be interesting if not valuable: "Cheap as stockings +are, it is good economy to knit them; knit hose wear twice as long as +woven; and they can be done at odd moments of time which would not be +otherwise employed." What an age that must have been when one had time +enough and to spare! Other suggestions are quite as curious. The book +is "dedicated to those who are not ashamed of economy." "The writer," +she says, "has no apology to offer for this little book of economical +hints, except her deep conviction that such a book is needed. In this +case, renown is out of the question; and ridicule is a matter of +indifference." + +Goethe made poems of his chagrins; Mrs. Child in this instance +utilized her privations and forced economies to make a book; and a +wonderfully successful book it was. She was not wrong in supposing it +would meet a want. During the next seven years, it went through twenty +editions, or three editions a year; in 1855, it had reached its +thirty-third edition, averaging little short of one edition a year for +thirty-six years. Surely this was a result which made a year of +economical living in a "very small house" worth while. + +"The Frugal Housewife" was a true "mother's book," although another +and later volume was so named. "The Mother's Book" was nearly as +successful as "The Frugal Housewife," and went through eight American +editions, twelve English, and one German. The success of these books +gave Mrs. Child a good income, and she hardly needed to be the "frugal +housewife" she had been before. + +A check soon came to her prosperity. In 1831, she met Garrison and, +being inflammable, caught fire from his anti-slavery zeal, and became +one of his earliest and staunchest disciples. The free use of the +Athenæum library which had been graciously extended to her ten years +before, now enabled her to study the subject of slavery in all its +aspects, historical, legal, theoretical, and practical and, in 1833, +she embodied the results of her investigations in a book entitled, "An +Appeal in behalf of the class of Americans called Africans." The +material is chiefly drawn from Southern sources, the statute books of +Southern states, the columns of Southern newspapers, and the +statements and opinions of Southern public men. It is an effective +book to read even now when one is in a mood to rose-color the old-time +plantation life and doubtful whether anything could be worse than the +present condition of the negro in the South. + +The book had two kinds of effect. It brought upon Mrs. Child the +incontinent wrath of all persons who, for any reason, thought that the +only thing to do with slavery was to let it alone. "A lawyer, +afterward attorney-general," a description that fits Caleb Cushing, is +said to have used tongs to throw the obnoxious book out of the window; +the Athenæum withdrew from Mrs. Child the privileges of its library; +former friends dropped her acquaintance; Boston society shut its doors +upon her; the sale of her books fell off; subscriptions to her +_Juvenile Miscellany_ were discontinued; and the magazine died after a +successful life of eight years; and Mrs. Child found that she had +ventured upon a costly experiment. This consequence she had +anticipated and it had for her no terrors. "I am fully aware," she +says in her preface, "of the unpopularity of the task I have +undertaken; but though I expect ridicule, I do not fear it.... Should +it be the means of advancing even one single hour the inevitable +progress of truth and justice, I would not exchange the consciousness +for all Rothschild's wealth or Sir Walter's fame." + +Of course a book of such evident significance and power would have +had another effect; by his own acknowledgement, it brought Dr. +Channing into the anti-slavery crusade, and he published a book upon +slavery in 1835; it led Dr. John G. Palfry, who had inherited a +plantation in Louisiana, to emancipate his slaves; and, as he has more +than once said, it changed the course of Col. T. W. Higginson's life +and made him an abolitionist. "As it was the first anti-slavery work +ever printed in America in book form, so," says Col. Higginson, "I +have always thought it the ablest." Whittier says, "It is no +exaggeration to say that no man or woman at that period rendered more +substantial service to the cause of freedom, or made such a 'great +renunciation' in doing it." + +Turning from the real world, which was becoming too hard for her, Mrs. +Child took refuge in dreamland and wrote "Philothea: a story of +Ancient Greece," published in 1835. Critics have objected that this +delightful romance is not an exact reproduction of Greek life, but is +Hamlet a reproduction of anything that ever happened in Denmark, or +Browning's Saul of anything that could have happened in Judea, a +thousand years before Christ? To Lowell, Mrs. Child was and remained +"Philothea." Higginson says that the lines in which Lowell describes +her in the "Fable for Critics," are the one passage of pure poetry it +contains, and at the same time the most charming sketch ever made of +Mrs. Child. + + "There comes Philothea, her face all aglow; + She has just been dividing some poor creature's woe, + And can't tell which pleases her most--to relieve + His want, or his story to hear and believe. + No doubt against many deep griefs she prevails, + For her ear is the refuge of destitute tales; + She knows well that silence is sorrow's best food, + And that talking draws off from the heart its bad blood." + +In 1836, Mr. Child went abroad to study the Beet Sugar industry in +France, Holland, and Germany and, after an absence of a year and a +half, returned to engage in Beet Sugar Farming at Northampton, Mass. +He received a silver medal for raw and refined sugar at the Exhibition +of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanics Association in 1839, and a +premium of $100 from the Massachusetts Agricultural society the same +year. He published a well written and edifying book upon "Beet Sugar," +giving the results of his investigations and experiments. It was an +enterprise of great promise, but has taken half a century, in this +country, to become a profitable industry. + +Mrs. Child's letters from 1838 to 1841 are dated from Northampton, +where she is assisting to work out the "Beet Sugar" experiment. It +would have been a rather grinding experience to any one with less +cheerfulness than Mrs. Child. She writes, June 9, 1838, "A month +elapsed before I stepped into the woods which were all around me +blooming with flowers. I did not go to Mr. Dwight's ordination, nor +have I yet been to meeting. He has been to see me however, and though +I left my work in the midst and sat down with a dirty gown and hands +somewhat grimmed, we were high in the blue in fifteen minutes." Mr. +Dwight was Rev. John S. Dwight, Brook Farmer, and editor of _Dwight's +Journal of Music_. + +Half of her published letters are addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Francis G. +Shaw, parents of Col. Robert G. Shaw. Here is one in 1840, to Mr. +Shaw, after she had made a trip to Boston. It will be interesting as +presenting a new aspect of Mrs. Child's nature: "The only thing, +except meeting dear friends, that attracted me to Boston was the +exhibition of statuary.... I am ashamed to say how deeply I am charmed +with sculpture: ashamed because it seems like affectation in one who +has had such limited opportunity to become acquainted with the arts. I +have a little figure of a caryatid which acts upon my spirit like a +magician's spell.... Many a time this hard summer, I have laid down my +dish-cloth or broom and gone to refresh my spirit by gazing on it a +few minutes. It speaks to me. It says glorious things. In summer I +place flowers before it; and I have laid a garland of acorns and +amaranths at its feet. I do love every little bit of real sculpture." + +Her other artistic passion was music, quite out of her reach at this +period; but happily, she loved birds and flowers, both of which a Beet +Sugar Farm in the Connecticut Valley made possible. A family of +swallows made their nest in her woodshed, husband and wife dividing +the labors of construction, nursing, and even of incubation, though +the male bird did not have the same skill and grace as the lady, in +placing his feet and wings. Mrs. Child gives a pretty account of this +incident in a letter to one of her little friends, and says, "It seems +as if I could watch them forever." Later, in one of her letters to +the Boston _Courier_, she gives a more complete account of the +episode. Her observations convinced her that birds have to be taught +to fly, as a child is taught to walk. + +When birds and flowers went, she had the autumn foliage, and she +managed to say a new thing about it: it is "color taking its fond and +bright farewell of form--like the imagination giving a deeper, richer, +and warmer glow to old familiar truths before the winter of +rationalism comes and places trunk and branches in naked outline +against the cold, clear sky." + +Whether she had been living hitherto in a "rent" we are not told, but +in a letter of February 8, 1841, she informs us that she is about to +move to a farm on which "is a sort of a shanty with two rooms and a +garret. We expect to whitewash it, build a new woodshed, and live +there next year. I shall keep no help, and there will be room for +David and me. I intend to half bury it in flowers." + +There is nothing fascinating in sordid details, but Mrs. Child in the +midst of sordid details, is glorious. A month before this last letter, +her brother, Prof. Francis, had written her apparently wishing her +more congenial circumstances; we have only her reply, from which it +appears her father is under her care. She declines her brother's +sympathy, and wonders that he can suppose "the deadening drudgery of +the world" can imprison a soul in its caverns. "It is not merely an +eloquent phrase," she says, "but a distinct truth that the outward has +no power over us but that which we voluntarily give it. It is not I +who drudge; it is merely the case that contains me. I defy all the +powers of earth and hell to make me scour floors and feed pigs, if I +choose meanwhile to be off conversing with angels.... If I can in +quietude and cheerfulness forego my own pleasures and relinquish my +tastes, to administer to my father's daily comfort, I seem to those +who live in shadows to be cooking food and mixing medicines, but I am +in fact making divine works of art which will reveal to me their fair +proportions in the far eternity." Besides this consolation, she says, +"Another means of keeping my soul fresh is my intense love of nature. +Another help, perhaps stronger than either of the two, is domestic +love." + +Her Northampton life was nearer an end than she supposed when she +wrote these letters; she did not spend the next year in the little +farm house with "two rooms and a garret"; on May 27th, she dates a +letter from New York city, where she has gone reluctantly to edit the +_Anti-Slavery Standard_. She had been translated from the sphere of +"cooking food and mixing medicines" to congenial literary occupations; +she had, let us hope, a salary sufficient for her urgent necessities; +her home was in the family of the eminent Quaker philanthropist, Isaac +T. Hopper, who received her as a daughter, and whose kindness she +repaid by writing his biography. However the venture might come out, +we would think her life could not well be harder or less attractive +than it had been, drudging in a dilapidated farm house, and we are +glad she is well out of it. Strange to say, she did not take our view +of the situation. We have already seen how independent she was of +external circumstances. In a letter referred to, dated May 27, she +chides a friend for writing accounts of her outward life: "What do I +care whether you live in one room or six? I want to know what your +spirit is doing. What are you thinking, feeling, and reading?... My +task here is irksome enough. Your father will tell you that it was not +zeal for the cause, but love for my husband, which brought me hither. +But since it was necessary for me to leave home to be earning +somewhat, I am thankful that my work is for the anti-slavery cause. I +have agreed to stay one year. I hope I shall then be able to return to +my husband and rural home, which is humble enough, yet very +satisfactory to me. Should the _Standard_ be continued, and my editing +generally desired, perhaps I could make an arrangement to send +articles from Northampton. At all events, I trust the weary separation +from my husband is not to last more than a year. If I am to be away +from him, I could not be more happily situated than in Friend Hopper's +family. They treat me the same as a daughter and a sister." + +The _Anti-Slavery Standard_ was a new enterprise; its editorship was +offered to Mr. and Mrs. Childs jointly; Col. Higginson says that Mr. +Child declined because of ill health; another authority, that he was +still infatuated with his Beet Sugar, of which Mrs. Child had had more +than enough; it appears from her letter that neither of them dreamed +of abandoning the Sugar industry; if the enterprise was folly, they +were happily united in the folly. + +However, of the two, the _Anti-Slavery Standard_ was the more +successful enterprise, and at the end of the two years, Mr. Child +closed out his Beet Sugar business and joined Mrs. Child in editing +the paper. Mrs. Child edited the _Standard_ eight years, six of which +were in conjunction with Mr. Child. They were successful editors; they +gave the _Standard_ a high literary character, and made it acceptable +to people of taste and culture who, whatever their sympathy with +anti-slavery, were often repelled by the unpolished manners of Mr. +Garrison's paper, _The Liberator_. + +Something of her life outside the _Standard_ office, something of the +things she saw and heard and enjoyed, during these eight years, can be +gathered from her occasional letters to the Boston _Courier_. They are +interesting still; they will always be of interest to one who cares to +know old New York, as it was sixty years ago, or from 1840 onward. +That they were appreciated then is evident from the fact that, +collected and published in two volumes in 1844, eleven editions were +called for during the next eight years. Col. Higginson considers these +eight years in New York the most interesting and satisfactory of Mrs. +Child's life. + +Though we have room for few incidents of this period, there is one +too charming to be omitted. A friend went to a flower merchant on +Broadway to buy a bunch of violets for Mrs. Child's birthday. +Incidentally, the lady mentioned Mrs. Child; she may have ordered the +flowers sent to her house. When the lady came to pay for them, the +florist said, "I cannot take pay for flowers intended for her. She is +a stranger to me, but she has given my wife and children so many +flowers in her writings, that I will never take money of her." Another +pretty incident is this: an unknown friend or admirer always sent Mrs. +Child the earliest wild flowers of spring and the latest in autumn. + +I have said that one of her passions was music, which happily she now +has opportunities to gratify. "As for amusements," she says, "music is +the only thing that excites me.... I have a chronic insanity with +regard to music. It is the only Pegasus which now carries me far up +into the blue. Thank God for this blessing of mine." I should be glad +if I had room for her account of an evening under the weird spell of +Ole Bull. Her moral sense was keener than her æsthetic, but her +æsthetic sense was for keener than that of the average mortal. +Sometimes she felt, as Paul would have said, "in a strait betwixt +two"; in 1847 she writes Mr. Francis G. Shaw: "I am now wholly in the +dispensation of art, and therefore theologians and reformers jar upon +me." Reformer as she was and will be remembered, she was easily drawn +into the dispensation of art; and nature was always with her, so much +so that Col. Higginson says, "She always seemed to be talking +radicalism in a greenhouse." + +Mr. and Mrs. Child retired from the _Standard_ in 1849. Her next +letters are dated from Newton, Mass. Her father was living upon a +small place--a house and garden--in the neighboring town of Wayland, +beautifully situated, facing Sudbury Hill, with the broad expanse of +the river meadows between. Thither Mrs. Child went to take care of him +from 1852 to 1856, when he died, leaving the charming little home to +her. There are many traditions of her mode of life in Wayland, but her +own account is the best: "In 1852, we made our humble home in Wayland, +Mass., where we spent twenty-two pleasant years, entirely alone, +without any domestic, mutually serving each other and depending upon +each other for intellectual companionship." If the memory of Wayland +people is correct, Mr. Child was not with her much during the four +years that her father lived. Her father was old and feeble and Mr. +Child had not the serene patience of his wife. Life ran more easily +when Mr. Child was away. Whatever other period in the life of Mrs. +Child may have been the most satisfactory, this must have been the +most trying. + +Under date of March 23, 1856, happily the last year of this sort of +widowhood, she writes: "This winter has been the loneliest of my life. +If you knew my situation you would pronounce it unendurable. I should +have thought so myself if I had had a foreshadowing of it a few years +ago. But the human mind can get acclimated to anything. What with +constant occupation and a happy consciousness of sustaining and +cheering my poor old father in his descent to the grave, I am almost +always in a state of serene contentment. In summer, my once +extravagant love of beauty satisfies itself in watching the birds, the +insects, and the flowers in my little patch of a garden." She has no +room for her vases, engravings, and other pretty things; she keeps +them in a chest, and she says, "when birds and flowers are gone, I +sometimes take them out as a child does its playthings, and sit down +in the sunshine with them, dreaming over them." + +We need not think of her spending much time dreaming over her little +hoard of artistic treasures. Her real business in this world is +writing the history of all religions, or "The Progress of Religious +Ideas in Successive Ages." It was a work begun in New York, as early +as 1848, finished in Wayland in 1855, published in three large octavo +volumes and, whatever its merits or success, was the greatest literary +labor of her life. + +Under date of July 14, 1848, she writes to Dr. Francis: "My book gets +slowly on.... I am going to tell the plain, unvarnished truth, as +clearly as I can understand it, and let Christians and Infidels, +Orthodox and Unitarians, Catholics, Protestants, and Swedenborgians +growl as they like. They will growl if they notice it at all: for each +will want his own theory favored, and the only thing I have +conscientiously aimed at is not to favor any theory at all." She may +have failed in scientific method; but here is a scientific spirit. "In +her religious speculations," says Whittier, "Mrs. Child moved in the +very van." In Wayland, she considered herself a parishioner of Dr. +Edmund H. Sears, whom she calls, "our minister," but she was +somewhat in advance of Dr. Sears. Her opinions were much nearer akin +to those of Theodore Parker. Only a Unitarian of that type could +perhaps at this early period have conceived the history of religion as +an evolution of one and the same spiritual element "through successive +ages." + +She had not much time to dream over her chest of artistic treasures +when the assault of Preston S. Brooks upon Senator Sumner called her +to battle of such force and point that Dr. William H. Furness said, it +was worth having Sumner's head broken. + +When death released her from the care of her father, she took +"Bleeding Kansas" under her charge. She writes letters to the +newspapers; she sits up till eleven o'clock, "stitching as fast as my +fingers could go," making garments for the Kansas immigrants; she +"stirs up the Wayland women to make garments for Kansas"; she sends +off Mr. Child to make speeches for Kansas; and then she writes him in +this manner: "How melancholy I felt when you went off in the morning +darkness. It seemed as if everything about me was tumbling down; as if +I were never to have a nest and a mate any more." Surely the rest of +this letter was not written for us to read: "Good, kind, magnanimous +soul, how I love you. How I long to say over the old prayer again +every night. It almost made me cry to see how carefully you had +arranged everything for my comfort before you went; so much kindling +stuff split up and the bricks piled up to protect my flowers." Here is +love in a cottage. This life is not all prosaic. + +Old anti-slavery friends came to see her and among them Charles +Sumner, in 1857, spent a couple of hours with her, and left his +photograph; she met Henry Wilson at the anti-slavery fair and talked +with him an "hour or so." Whittier says, "Men like Charles Sumner, +Henry Wilson, Salmon P. Chase, and Governor Andrew availed themselves +of her foresight and sound judgment of men and measures." + +When John Brown was wounded and taken prisoner at Harper's Ferry, +nothing was more in character for Mrs. Child than to offer her +services as his nurse. She wrote him under cover of a letter to Gov. +Wise, of Virginia. The arrival of Mrs. Brown, made Mrs. Child's +attendance unnecessary, but the incident led to a lively +correspondence between Mrs. Child and Gov. Wise, in which Mrs. +Senator Mason, of Virginia, joined. Neither of her distinguished +correspondents possessed the literary skill of Mrs. Child. The entire +correspondence was collected in a pamphlet of which 300,000 copies +were sold. On a visit to Whittier at Amesbury, a delegation from a +Republican political meeting called upon her, saying they wanted to +see the woman who "poured hot shot into Gov. Wise." + +In 1863, after saying that she is "childish enough to talk to the +picture of a baby that is being washed," she writes her friend, Mrs. +Shaw, "But you must not suppose that I live for amusement. On the +contrary I work like a beaver the whole time. Just now I am making a +hood for a poor neighbor; last week I was making flannels for the +hospital; odd minutes are filled up ravelling lint; every string that +I can get sight of I pull for poor Sambo. I write to the _Tribune_ +about him; I write to the _Transcript_ about him; I write to private +individuals about him; and I write to the President and members of +Congress about him; I write to Western Virginia and Missouri about +him; and I get the articles published too. This shows what progress +the cause of freedom is making." Not everything went to her mind +however. If we think there has been a falling from grace in the public +life of our generation, it may do us good to read what she says in +1863: "This war has furnished many instances of individual nobility, +but our national record is mean." + +In 1864, she published "Looking Toward Sunset," a book designed to +"present old people with something wholly cheerful." The entire +edition was exhausted during the holiday season; 4,000 copies were +sold and more called for. All her profits on the book, she devoted to +the freedmen, sending $400 as a first instalment. Not only that, but +she prepared a volume called "The Freedman's Book," which she printed +at an expense of $600, and distributed among the freedmen 1200 copies +at her own cost. She once sent Wendell Phillips a check of $100 for +the freedmen, and when he protested that it was more than she could +afford, she consented to "think it over." The next day, she made her +contribution $200. She contributed $20 a year to the American +Missionary Association toward the support of a teacher for the +freedmen, and $50 a year to the Anti-Slavery Society. A lady wished, +through Mr. Phillips, to give Mrs. Child several thousand dollars for +her comfort. Mrs. Child declined the favor, but was persuaded to +accept it, and then scrupulously gave away the entire income in +charity. It is evident she might have made herself very comfortable, +if it had not given her so much more pleasure to make someone else +comfortable. + +Her dress, as neat and clean as that of a Quakeress, was quite as +plain and far from the latest style. A stranger meeting her in a stage +coach mistook her for a servant until she began to talk. "Who is that +woman who dresses like a peasant, and speaks like a scholar?" he asked +on leaving the coach. Naturally, it was thought Mrs. Child did not +know how to dress, or, more likely, did not care for pretty things. +"You accuse me," she writes to Miss Lucy Osgood, "you accuse me of +being indifferent to externals, whereas the common charge is that I +think too much of beauty, and say too much about it. I myself think it +one of my greatest weaknesses. A handsome man, woman or child can +always make a pack-horse of me. My next neighbor's little boy has me +completely under his thumb, merely by virtue of his beautiful eyes and +sweet voice." There was one before her of whom it was said, "He +denied himself, and took up his cross." It was also said of him, +"Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor." He never had a +truer disciple than Mrs. Child. + +Not that she ever talked of "crosses." "But why use the word +sacrifice?" she asks. "I never was conscious of any sacrifice." What +she gained in moral discipline or a new life, she says, was always +worth more than the cost. She used an envelope twice, Wendell Phillips +says; she never used a whole sheet of paper when half of one would do; +she outdid poverty in her economies, and then gave money as if she had +thousands. "I seldom have a passing wish for enlarging my income +except for the sake of doing more for others. My wants are very few +and simple." + +In 1867, Mrs. Child published "A Romance of the Republic," a pathetic +story, but fascinating, and admirably written; in 1878, appeared a +book of choice selections, entitled, "Aspirations of the World"; and +in 1871, a volume of short biographies, entitled "Good Wives," and +dedicated, to Mr. Child: "To my husband, this book is affectionately +inscribed, by one who, through every vicissitude, has found in his +kindness and worth, her purest happiness and most constant incentive +to duty." + +Mr. Child died in 1874 at the age of eighty, and Mrs. Child followed +him in 1880, at the age of seventy-eight. After her death, a small +volume of her letters was published, of which the reader will wish +there were more. Less than a month before her death, she wrote to a +friend a list of benevolent enterprises she has in mind and says, "Oh, +it is such a luxury to be able to give without being afraid. I try not +to be Quixotic, but I want to rain down blessings on all the world, in +token of thankfulness for the blessings that have been rained down +upon me." + +It is too late to make amends for omissions in this paper, but it +would be unjust to Mrs. Child to forget her life-long devotion to the +interests of her own sex. In 1832, a year before her "Appeal in behalf +of that class of Americans called Africans,"--eleven years before the +appearance of Margaret Fuller's "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," +Mrs. Child published "A History of the Condition of Women in all ages +and nations," showing her disposition to begin every inquiry with a +survey of the facts, and also that the "woman question" was the first +to awaken her interest. Her greatest contribution to the advancement +of women was herself; that is, her own achievements. To the same +purpose were her biographies of famous women: "Memoirs of Mme. de +Stael and Mme. Roland" in 1847, and sketches of "Good Wives" in 1871. +Whittier says, she always believed in woman's right to the ballot, as +certainly he did, calling it "the greatest social reform of the age." +In one letter to Senator Sumner, she directly argues the question: "I +reduce the argument," she says, "to very simple elements. I pay taxes +for property of my own earning, and I do not believe in 'taxation +without representation.'" Again: "I am a human being and every human +being has a right to a voice in the laws which claim authority to tax +him, to imprison him, or to _hang_ him." + +A light humor illuminates this argument. Humor was one of her saving +qualities which, as Whittier says, "kept her philanthropy free from +any taint of fanaticism." It contributed greatly to her cheerfulness. +Of her fame, she says playfully: "In a literary point of view I know I +have only a local reputation, done in water colors." + +Could anything have been better said than this of the New England +April or even May: "What a misnomer in our climate to call this +season Spring, very much like calling Calvinism religion." Nothing +could have been keener than certain points scored in her reply to Mrs. +Senator Mason. Mrs. Mason, remembering with approving conscience her +own ministries in the slave cabins caring for poor mothers with young +babies, asks Mrs. Child, in triumph, if she goes among the poor to +render such services. Mrs. Child replies that she has never known +mothers under such circumstances to be neglected, "and here at the +North," said she, "after we have helped the mothers, we do not sell +the babies." After Gen. Grant's election to the Presidency, a +procession with a band from Boston, marched to her house and gave her +a serenade. She says that she joined in the hurrahs "like the +strong-minded woman that I am. The fact is, I forgot half the time +whether I belonged to the stronger or weaker sex." Whether she +belonged to the stronger or weaker sex, is still something of a +problem. Sensible men would be willing to receive her, should women +ever refuse to acknowledge her. + +Wendell Phillips paid her an appreciative tribute, at her funeral. +"There were," he said, "all the charms and graceful elements which we +call feminine, united with a masculine grasp and vigor; sound +judgment and great breadth; large common sense and capacity for +everyday usefulness, endurance, foresight, strength, and skill." The +address is given in full in the volume of "Letters." There is also a +fine poem by Whittier for the same occasion: + + "Than thine was never turned a fonder heart + To nature and to art; + + Yet loving beauty, thou couldst pass it by, + And for the poor deny + Thyself...." + +The volume contains a poetical tribute of an earlier date, by Eliza +Scudder, of which Mrs. Child said, "I never was so touched and pleased +by any tribute in my life. I cried over the verses and I smiled over +them." I will close this paper with Miss Scudder's last stanza: + + "So apt to know, so wise to guide, + So tender to redress,-- + O, friend with whom such charms abide, + How can I love thee less?" + + + + +IV + +DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX + + +[Illustration: DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX] + +The career of Dorothy Dix is a romance of philanthropy which the world +can ill afford to forget. It has been said of her, and it is still +said, that she was "the most useful and distinguished woman America +has yet produced." It is the opinion of Mr. Tiffany, her biographer, +that as the founder of institutions of mercy, she "has simply no peer +in the annals of Protestantism." To find her parallel one must go to +the calendar of the Catholic saints,--St. Theresa, of Spain, or Santa +Chiara, of Assisi. "Why then," he asks, do the "majority of the +present generation know little or nothing of so remarkable a story!" +Till his biography appeared, it might have been answered that the +story had never been told; now, we should have to say that, with a +thousand demands upon our time, it has not been read. + +Dorothea Lynde Dix--born February 11, 1802--was the daughter of Joseph +Dix and granddaughter of the more eminent Dr. Elijah Dix, of +Worcester, later of Boston, Mass. Dr. Dix was born in Watertown, +Mass., in 1747. At the age of seventeen, he became the office boy of +Dr. John Green, an eminent physician in Worcester, Mass., and later, a +student of medicine. After five years, in 1770, he began to practice +as physician and surgeon in Worcester where he formed a partnership +with Dr. Sylvester Gardner. It must have been a favorable time for +young doctors since in 1771, a year after he began to practice, he +married Dorothy Lynde, of Charlestown, Mass., for whom her little +granddaughter was named. Mrs. Dix seems to have been a woman of great +decision of character, and no less precision of thought and action, +two traits which reappeared conspicuously in our great philanthropist. + +Certain qualities of Dr. Dix are also said to have reappeared in his +granddaughter. He was self-reliant, aggressive, uncompromising, +public-spirited, and sturdily honest. To his enterprise, Worcester +owed its first shade trees, planted by him, when shade trees were +considered great folly, and also the Boston and Worcester turnpike, +when mud roads were thought to be divinely appointed thoroughfares. +His integrity is shown by an incident which also throws light upon +the conditions of a troubled period. His partner, Dr. Gardner, made +the grave mistake of taking the royal side in the controversies that +preceded the Revolution, and Worcester became as hot for him as +Richmond or Charleston was for a Union man in 1861. Dr. Gardner +disappeared, leaving his effects behind him. After the war, Dr. Dix +made a voyage to England and honorably settled accounts with his +former partner. + +It was like the enterprising Dr. Dix that he turned this creditable +act to his financial advantage. On his return to America he brought +with him a stock of medical books, surgical instruments, and chemical +apparatus, and became a dealer in physician's supplies, while +continuing the practice of his profession. His business prospering, in +1795 he removed to Boston for a larger field, where he opened a drug +store near Faneuil Hall and established chemical works in South +Boston. Successful as physician, druggist and manufacturer, he soon +had money to invest. Maine, with its timber lands, was the Eldorado of +that era, and Dr. Dix bought thousands of acres in its wilderness, +where Dixfield in the west, and Dixmont in the east, townships once +owned by him, preserve his name and memory. + +The house of Dr. Dix in Boston, called the "Dix Mansion," was on +Washington St., corner of Dix Place, then Orange Court. It had a large +garden behind it, where originated the Dix pear, once a favorite. Dr. +Dix died in 1809, when Dorothea was seven years old. Young as she was, +he was among the most vivid of her childhood memories and by far the +pleasantest. She seems to have been a favorite with him and it was his +delight to take her in his chaise on his rounds, talking playfully +with her and listening to her childish prattle. + +Joseph Dix, the father of Dorothea, is a vague and shadowy memory. He +seems to have had little of his father's energy or good sense. +Unstable in many of his ways, he lived a migratory life, "at various +spots in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, as well as in Worcester +and Boston, Mass." When Dorothea was born, he was living at Hampden, +Maine, adjoining his father's Dixmont properties, presumably as his +father's land agent. He probably tired of this occupation because it +interfered with his business. His business seems to have been +religion. He was a prolific author of religious literature. He was a +philanthropist after his kind, giving his time without stint to the +writing of religious tracts, and spending his money in publishing +them, with little benefit to the world and much detriment to his +family. In the stitching and pasting of these tracts, the whole +household were required to assist and it was against this irksome +taskwork that Dorothea, at the age of twelve, rebelled, running away +from Worcester, where the family then lived, and finding a refuge with +her grandmother in Boston. Dorothea afterwards educated her two +brothers, one of whom became a sea captain and the other a Boston +merchant. + +Dorothea Dix was created by her Maker, but she was given in a plastic +state, first into the hands of inexorable Madam Dix, and next into +those of the all-pitying Dr. Channing. Madam Dix is described as a +fine specimen of the dignified, precise, conscientious New England +gentlewoman of her generation. Industry, economy, and above all +thoroughness were the chief articles of her religion, and she +instilled these virtues into the mind of her granddaughter by the most +vigorous discipline. A week of solitary confinement was among the +penalties inflicted upon the hapless child who had failed to reach +the standard of duty prescribed for her. The standard, with Madam Dix, +did not differ from perfection discernibly. Mr. Tiffany quotes a lady +who in her girlhood, as a special reward of merit, was allowed to make +an entire shirt under the supervision of Madam Dix. It was an +experience never forgotten. No stitch in the entire garment could be +allowed to differ perceptibly from every other, but the lady spoke of +the ordeal with enthusiastic gratitude, declaring that it had been a +life-long benefit to her to have been compelled to do one piece of +work thoroughly well. + +"I never knew childhood," Miss Dix said pitifully in after life. +Certainly with this exacting grandmother, there can be no childhood as +it is understood to-day; but if Dorothea submits to the rigorous +discipline enforced upon her, she will make a woman of iron fibre who +will flinch from no hardship and will leave no task undone. Happily +she did submit to it. The alternative would have been to return to her +half-vagabond father. Too much discipline or too little was her +destiny. She preferred to take the medicine in excess, and in the end +was grateful for it. + +Dorothea was so apt a pupil and so ambitious that, at the age of +fourteen, she returned to Worcester and opened a school for small +children, prudently lengthening the skirts and sleeves of her dress to +give dignity and impressiveness to her appearance. Half a century +later one of these pupils vividly recalled the child-teacher, tall of +her age, easily blushing, at once beautiful and imposing in manner, +but inexorably strict in discipline. + +Dorothea spent the next four years in Boston in preparation for a more +ambitious undertaking and, in 1821 at the age of nineteen, she opened +a day school in Boston in a small house belonging to Madam Dix. The +school prospered and gradually expanded into a day and boarding +school, for which the Dix mansion, whither the school was removed, +furnished convenient space. Madam Dix, enfeebled by age and +infirmities, laid down the scepter she had wielded, and the premises +passed virtually into the hands of Dorothea. Thither came pupils from +"the most prominent families in Boston" and other Massachusetts towns, +and even from beyond the limits of the State. There also she brought +her brothers to be educated under her care and started upon a business +career. + +Hardly had she started her school for the rich and fortunate before, +anticipating her vocation as a philanthropist, she opened another for +the poor and destitute. A letter is preserved in which she pleadingly +asks the conscientious but perhaps stony Madam Dix for the loft over +the stable for this purpose. "My dear grandmother," she begins, "Had I +the saint-like eloquence of our minister, I would employ it in +explaining all the motives, and dwelling on the good, the good to the +poor, the miserable, the idle, the ignorant, which would follow your +giving me permission to use the barn chamber for a school-room for +charitable and religious purposes." + +The minister with saint-like eloquence was Dr. Channing. The letter is +valuable as showing the source of the flame that had fired her +philanthropic soul. For the finer culture of the heart she had passed +from the hands of Madam Dix to those of Dr. Channing. The request for +the room was granted and Mr. Tiffany tells us that "The little +barn-school proved the nucleus out of which years later was developed +the beneficent work of the Warren Street Chapel, from which as a +centre spread far and wide a new ideal of dealing with childhood. +There first was interest excited in the mind of Rev. Charles Barnard, +a man of positive spiritual genius in charming and uplifting the +children of the poor and debased." + +Letters from Miss Dix at this period show that she had a sensitive +nature, easily wrought upon, now inflamed to action and now melted to +tears. "You say that I weep easily. I was early taught to sorrow, to +shed tears, and now, when sudden joy lights up or unexpected sorrow +strikes my heart, I find it difficult to repress the full and swelling +tide of feeling." She is reading a book of poems and weeping over +it,--"paying my watery tribute to the genius" of the poet. She longs +for similar talents that she "might revel in the luxury of those +mental visions that must hourly entrance a spirit that partakes less +of earth than heaven." It will be remembered that her father was +religious even to folly. Here was his child, only by judicious +training, the stream was turned into channels of wise beneficence. + +With the management of two schools, the supervision of the household, +the care of two younger brothers, and ministries to her grandmother +already advanced in years, Miss Dix was sufficiently occupied, but she +found time to prepare a text-book upon "Common Things," gathering the +material as she wrote. This, her first attempt at book-making, issued +in 1824, was kept in print forty-five years, and went to its sixtieth +edition in 1869. It was followed the next year by "Hymns for Children" +selected and altered, and by a book of devotions entitled, "Evening +Hours." Lengthening the day at both ends, "rising before the sun and +going to bed after midnight," working while others slept, gave time +for these extra tasks. Nature exacted her usual penalties. In the +third year of this arduous labor, threatenings of lung troubles +appeared which, however, she defied even when "in conducting her +classes she had to stand with one hand on a desk for support, and the +other pressed hard to her side as though to repress a hard pain." +Meanwhile she wrote a bosom friend: "There is in our nature a +disposition to indulgence, a secret desire to escape from labor, which +unless hourly combated will overcome the best faculties of our minds +and paralyse our most useful powers.... I have often entertained a +dread lest I should fall a victim to my besieger, and that fear has +saved me thus far." + +Besides the terror of lapsing into self-indulgence, she was +stimulated to activity by the care of her brothers, for one of whom +she seems to have felt special anxiety: "Oh, Annie," she writes, "if +that child is good, I care not how humble his pathway in life. It is +for him my soul is filled with bitterness when sickness wastes me; it +is because of him I dread to die." Was there no one to advise her that +the best care of her brother would be to care for herself, and that if +she would do more, she must first do less! Where was Dr. Channing who, +more than any other, was responsible for her intemperate zeal! It +appears that Dr. Channing, "not without solicitude," as he writes her, +was watching over his eager disciple. "Your infirm health," he says, +"seems to darken your prospect of usefulness. But I believe your +constitution will yet be built up, if you will give it a fair chance. +You must learn to give up your plans of usefulness as much as those of +gratification, to the will of God." + +Miss Dix abandoned her school apparently in 1827, after six years of +service and at the age of twenty-five. The following spring and summer +she spent as a governess in the family of Dr. Channing at his summer +home in Rhode Island. Her duties were light and she lived much in the +open air, devoting her leisure to botany in which she was already "no +mean proficient," and to "the marine life of the beautiful region." +Very pretty letters were exchanged between her and Dr. Channing at the +termination of the engagement. "We will hear no more of thanks," he +wrote her, "but your affection for us and our little ones we will +treasure among our most precious blessings." He invites her to renew +the relations another year, and so she did. + +To avoid the rigors of a New England climate, Miss Dix, for some +years, spent her winters, now in Philadelphia, now in Alexandria, Va., +keeping herself busy with reading "of a very multifarious +kind,--poetry, science, biography, and travels,--besides eking out the +scanty means she had laid by from her teaching by writing stories and +compiling floral albums and books of devotion." In 1827, she published +a volume of "Ten Short Stories for Children" which went to a second +edition in 1832; in 1828, "Meditations for Private Hours," which went +through several editions; in 1829, two little books, "The Garland of +Flora," and "The Pearl, a Christmas Gift." Occasional brief +engagements in teaching are also recorded in this period. + +The winter of 1830, she spent with the Channings on the Island of St. +Croix, in the West Indies, in her old capacity as governess. A +daughter of Dr. Channing gives an interesting account of the +preceptress of whom, first and last, she had seen so much. She +describes Miss Dix as tall and dignified, very shy in manner, strict +and inflexible in discipline. "From her iron will, it was hopeless to +appeal. I think she was a very accomplished teacher, active and +diligent herself, very fond of natural history and botany. She enjoyed +long rambles, always calling our attention to what was interesting in +the world around us. I hear that some of her pupils speak of her as +irascible. I have no such remembrance. Fixed as fate we considered +her." + +Miss Dix returned from the West Indies in the spring, very much +improved in health, and in the autumn, she reopened her school in the +Dix Mansion, with the same high ideals as before and with such +improved methods as experience had suggested. Pupils came to her again +as of old and she soon had as many attendants as her space permitted. +A feature of the school was a letter-box through which passed a daily +mail between teacher and pupils and "large bundles of child-letters of +this period" are still extant, preserved by Miss Dix with scrupulous +care to the end of life. It was a bright child who wrote as follows: +"I thought I was doing well until I read your letter, but when you +said that you were rousing to greater energy, all my satisfaction +vanished. For if you are not satisfied in some measure with yourself +and are going to do more than you have done, I don't know what I shall +do. You do not go to rest until midnight and then you rise very +early." The physician had administered too strong a tonic for the +little patient's health. + +A lady who, at the age of sixteen, attended this school in 1833, +writes of her eminent teacher as follows: "She fascinated me from the +first, as she had done many of my class before me. Next to my mother, +I thought her the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was in the +prime of her years, tall and of dignified carriage, head finely shaped +and set, with an abundance of soft, wavy, brown hair." The school +continued in the full tide of success for five years, during which +time, by hard labor and close economies, Miss Dix had saved enough to +secure her "the independence of a modest competence." This seems a +great achievement, but if one spends nothing for superfluities and +does most of his labor himself, he can lay by his income, much or +little. The appointments of the school are said to have been very +simple, a long table serving as a desk for study, when it was not in +use for dinner. Only one assistant is mentioned, who gave instruction +in French and, perhaps, elementary Latin. Surely Miss Dix could handle +the rest herself. The merit of the school was not in its elaborate +appointments, but in the personal supervision of its accomplished +mistress. So the miracle was wrought and at the age of thirty-three, +Miss Dix had achieved a modest competence. + +The undertaking had cost her her health once before, and now it cost +her her health again. The old symptoms, a troublesome cough, pain in +the side, and slight hemorrhages, returned and, having dragged her +frail body through the winter of 1836, Miss Dix reluctantly closed her +school in the spring and, in obedience to her physician, went to +Europe for rest, with the intention of spending the summer in England, +the autumn in France, and the winter in Italy. Prostrated by the +voyage, she was carried to a hotel in Liverpool where she was put to +bed with the forlorn prospect of being confined to her solitary room +for an indefinite period of convalescence. But again Dr. Channing +befriended her. From him she had received letters of introduction, one +of which brought to her side Mr. William Rathbone, a wealthy merchant +of Liverpool and a prominent English Unitarian. Mr. and Mrs. Rathbone +insisted upon taking her to their home, a charming residence a few +miles out of the city. Thither she consented to go for a visit of a +few weeks, and there she remained, as an honored guest tenderly cared +for, for eighteen months. "To the end of her days," says her +biographer, "this period of eighteen months stood out in her memory as +the jubilee of her life, the sunniest, the most restful, and the +tenderest to her affections of her whole earthly experience." She +wrote a Boston friend, "You must imagine me surrounded by every +comfort, sustained by every tenderness that can cheer, blest in the +continual kindness of the family in which Providence has placed me,--I +with no claim but those of a common nature." And again, "So completely +am I adopted into the circle of loving spirits that I sometimes +forget I really am not to consider the bonds transient in their +binding." + +She very much needed these friends and their tender care. Nine months +after her arrival, we hear of occasional hemorrhages from which she +has been exempt for ten days, the pain in her side less acute, and her +physician has given her permission to walk about her room. One would +think that her career was practically ended, but, strange to say, the +career which was to make her famous had not yet begun. From this date, +her convalescence proceeded steadily, and she was able to enjoy much +in the delightful home and refined social circle in which she found +herself. "Your remark," she writes a friend, "that I probably enjoy +more now in social intercourse than I have ever before done is quite +true. Certainly if I do not improve, it will be through wilful +self-neglect." Apparently, she was having a glimpse of a less prosaic +existence than the grinding routine of a boarding school. Madam Dix +died at the age of ninety-one, leaving her granddaughter, still in +Europe, a substantial legacy, which sensibly increased her limited +resources and, when the time came for action, left her free to carry +out her great schemes of benevolence without hampering personal +anxieties. It ought to preserve the memory of Madam Dix that she +endowed a great philanthropist. + +In the autumn of 1837, Miss Dix returned to America, and avoiding the +New England climate, spent the winter in Washington, D. C., and its +neighborhood. Apparently, it was not a wholly happy winter, chiefly +because of her vain and tender longings for the paradise she had left +across the sea. The Washington of 1837 seemed raw to her after the +cultivated English home she had discovered. "I was not conscious," she +writes a friend, "that so great a trial was to meet my return from +England till the whole force of the contrast was laid before me.... I +may be too craving of that rich gift, the power of sharing with other +minds. I have drunk deeply, long, and Oh, how blissfully, at this +fountain in a foreign clime. Hearts met hearts, minds joined with +minds, and what were the secondary trials of pain to the enfeebled +body when daily was administered the soul's medicine and food." +Surely, that English experience was one upon which not every invalid +from these shores could count, but when, a few years later, Miss Dix +returned to England as a kind of angel of mercy, giving back much +more than she had ever received, the Rathbone family must have been +glad that they had befriended her in her obscurity and her need. + +It was in 1841 at the age of thirty-nine that the second chapter in +the life of Miss Dix began. Note that she had as little thought that +she was beginning a great career as any one of us that he will date +all his future from something he has done or experienced to-day. It +happened that Dr. J. T. G. Nichols, so long the beloved pastor of the +Unitarian parish in Saco, Maine, was then a student of Divinity at +Cambridge. He had engaged to assist in a Sunday School in the East +Cambridge jail, and all the women, twenty in number, had been assigned +to him. The experience of one session with his class was enough to +convince him that a young man was very much out of place in that +position and that a woman, sensible if possible, but a woman +certainly, was necessary. His mother advised him to consult Miss Dix. +Not that her health would permit her to take the class, but she could +advise. On hearing Mr. Nichols' statement, Miss Dix deliberated a +moment and then said, "I will take the class myself." Mr. Nichols +protested that this was not to be thought of, in the condition of her +health, but we have heard of her iron will: "Fixed as fate we +considered her," said one of her pupils; and she answered Mr. Nichols, +"I shall be there next Sunday." + +This was the beginning. "After the school was over," says Dr. Nichols, +"Miss Dix went into the jail and found among the prisoners a few +insane persons with whom she talked. She noticed that there was no +stove in their rooms and no means of proper warmth." The date was the +twenty-eighth of March and the climate was New England, from which +Miss Dix had so often had to flee. "The jailer said that a fire for +them was not needed, and would be unsafe. Her repeated solicitations +were without success." The jailer must have thought he was dealing +with a woman, not with destiny. "At that time the court was in session +at East Cambridge, and she caused the case to be brought before it. +Her request was granted. The cold rooms were warmed. Thus was her +great work commenced." + +Such is Dr. Nichols' brief statement, but the course of events did not +run so smoothly as we are led to suppose. The case had to be fought +through the newspapers as well as the court, and here Miss Dix showed +the generalship which she exhibited on many another hard fought +field. She never went into battle single-handed. She always managed to +have at her side the best gunners when the real battle began. In the +East Cambridge skirmish, she had Rev. Robert C. Waterston, Dr. Samuel +G. Howe, and Charles Sumner. Dr. Howe visited the jail and wrote an +account for the Boston _Advertiser_. When this statement was disputed, +as it was, Mr. Sumner, who had accompanied Dr. Howe, confirmed his +account and added details of his own. He said that the inmates "were +cramped together in rooms poorly ventilated and noisome with filth;" +that "in two cages or pens constructed of plank, within the four stone +walls of the same room" were confined, and had been for months, a +raving maniac and an interesting young woman whose mind was so +slightly obscured that it seemed any moment as if the cloud would pass +away; that "the whole prison echoed with the blasphemies of the poor +old woman, while her young and gentle fellow in suffering seemed to +shrink from her words as from blows;" that the situation was hardly +less horrid than that of "tying the living to the dead." + +Where was Miss Dix during this controversy? Why, she was preparing to +investigate every jail and almshouse in the State of Massachusetts. +If this was the way the insane were treated in the city of Cambridge, +in a community distinguished for enlightenment and humanity, what +might not be going on in more backward and less favored localities? +Note-book in hand, going from city to city and from town to town, Miss +Dix devoted the two following years to answering this question +exhaustively. + +Having gathered her facts, she presented them to the Legislature in a +Memorial of thirty-two octavo pages, the first of a series of +seventeen statements and appeals presented to the legislatures of +different states, as far west as Illinois and as far south as +Louisiana. "I shall be obliged," she said, "to speak with great +plainness and to reveal many things revolting to the taste, and from +which my woman's nature shrinks with peculiar sensitiveness.... I +proceed, gentlemen, briefly to call your attention to the present +state of insane persons within this Commonwealth, in cages, closets, +cellars, stalls, pens, chained, naked, beaten with rods and lashed +into obedience.... I give a few illustrations but description fades +before reality." If we could dismiss the subject by saying she reports +instance after instance where men and women were confined in the +almshouses in Massachusetts in such conditions of inhumanity and +neglect as no intelligent farmer would tolerate for his swine, we +could avoid some unpleasant details; but the statement would be +ineffective because it would seem incredible. At the almshouse in +Danvers, confined in a remote, low, outbuilding, she found a young +woman, once respectable, industrious and worthy, whose mind had been +deranged by disappointments and trials. "There she stood," says Miss +Dix, "clinging to or beating upon the bars of her caged apartment, the +contracted size of which afforded space only for increasing +accumulations of filth,--a foul spectacle; there she stood, with naked +arms, dishevelled hair, the unwashed frame invested with fragments of +unclean garments, the air so extremely offensive, though ventilation +was afforded on all sides but one, that it was not possible to remain +beyond a few moments without retreating for recovery to the outward +air. Irritation of body, produced by utter filth and exposure, incited +her to the horrid process of tearing off her skin by inches; her neck +and person were thus disfigured to hideousness.... And who protects +her," Miss Dix suggestively asks, "who protects her,--that worse than +Pariah outcast,--from other wrongs and blacker outrages!" This +question had more meaning for Miss Dix than we might suppose, for at +the almshouse in Worcester she had found an insane Madonna and her +babe: father unknown. + +Fair and beautiful Newton finds a place in this chapter of dishonor, +with a woman chained, nearly nude, and filthy beyond measure: "Sick, +horror-struck, and almost incapable of retreating, I gained the +outward air." A case in Groton attained infamous celebrity, not +because the shame was without parallel but because the overseers of +the poor tried to discredit the statements of Miss Dix. The fact was +that she had understated the case. Dr. Bell of the McLean Asylum, +confirmed her report and added details. In an outbuilding at the +almshouse, a young man, slightly deranged but entirely inoffensive, +was confined by a heavy iron collar to which was attached a chain six +feet in length, the limit of his possible movements. His hands were +fastened together by heavy clavises secured by iron bolts. There was +no window in his dungeon, but for ventilation there was an opening, +half the size of a sash, closed in cold weather by a board shutter. +From this cell, he had been taken to the McLean Asylum, where his +irons had been knocked off, his swollen limbs chafed gently, and +finding himself comfortable, he exclaimed, "My good man, I must kiss +you." He showed no violence, ate at the common table, slept in the +common bedroom, and seemed in a fair way to recovery when, to save the +expense of three dollars a week for his board and care, the thrifty +Groton officials took him away. He could be boarded at the almshouse +for nothing, and, chained in an outbuilding, he would not require any +care. + +We can follow Miss Dix in her career through a dozen states of this +Union, into the British Provinces, to Scotland and England, thence +across to the Continent, without repeating these details, if we bear +in mind that such as we have seen was the condition of the pauper +insane at that period. Her memorial was presented by Dr. S. G. Howe, +then happily a member of the Legislature, and a bill was passed, not +without opposition, but finally passed, enlarging the asylum at +Worcester to accommodate two hundred additional patients. The +provision was inadequate, but a reform of old abuses had begun. It was +her first victory. + +Grateful for what had been accomplished in Massachusetts, Miss Dix +turned to Rhode Island, whose borders she had often approached and +sometimes crossed in her investigations in the adjoining state. Rhode +Island was perhaps not less civilized than her neighbor, but Rhode +Island furnished the prize case of horrors in the mistreatment of +insanity, a case which in a letter introducing the discoverer, Mr. +Thomas G. Hazard said went beyond anything he supposed to exist in the +civilized world. The case was this: Abraham Simmons, a man whose name +ought to go on the roll of martyrdom, was confined in the town of +Little Compton, in a cell seven feet square, stone-built, +stone-roofed, and stone-floored, the entrance double-walled, +double-doored and double-locked, "excluding both light and fresh air, +and without accommodation of any description for warming and +ventilation." When this dungeon was discovered, the walls were covered +by frost a half inch in thickness; the bed was provided with two +comfortables, both wet and the outer one stiffly frozen, or, as Miss +Dix puts it, "only wet straw to lie upon and a sheet of ice for his +covering." Lest two locks should not be enough to hold this dangerous +man, his leg was tethered to the stone floor by an ox-chain. "My +husband," said the mistress, "in winter, sometimes of a morning rakes +out half a bushel of frost, _and yet he never freezes_; sometimes he +screams dreadfully and that is the reason we had the double wall and +two doors in place of one; his cries disturb us in the house." "How +long has he been here?" "Oh, above three years." Nothing in the +traditions of the Bastile could exceed these horrors, and yet they +were not the product of intentional cruelty, but of unfathomable +stupidity. + +Disregarding the well-meant warnings of her attendant that he would +kill her, Miss Dix took his hands, tried to warm them in her own, +spoke to him of liberty, care and kindness, and for answer "a tear +stole over his hollow cheeks, but no words answered my importunities." +Her next step was to publish the terrible story in the Providence +Journal, not with a shriek, as might have been expected and justified, +but with the affected coolness of a naturalist. With grim humor, she +headed her article, "Astonishing Tenacity of Life," as if it had only +a scientific interest for anybody. If you doubted the statements, you +might go and see for yourself: "Should any persons in this +philanthropic age be disposed from motives of curiosity to visit the +place, they may rest assured that travelling is considered quite safe +in that part of the country, however improbable it may seem. The +people of that region profess the Christian religion, and it is even +said that they have adopted some forms and ceremonies which they call +worship. It is not probable, however, that they address themselves to +poor Simmons' God." Their prayers and his shrieks would make a strange +discord, she thinks, if they entered the ear of the same deity. + +Having reported her discoveries to the men of science, she next +appealed to the men of wealth. Providence had at that date a +multi-millionaire, by the name of Butler; he left four millions to his +heirs. He had never been known as a philanthropist; he did not himself +suppose that his heart was susceptible. It is said that knowing +persons smiled when they heard that Miss Dix intended to appeal to +him. Further, it is said that Mr. Butler, at the interview, +ingeniously diverted the conversation from topics that threatened to +be serious. He apparently had no thought of giving Miss Dix a penny. +At length she rose with the impressive dignity so often noted by her +pupils and said: "Mr. Butler, I wish you to hear what I have to say. I +want to bring before you certain facts involving terrible suffering +to your fellow creatures all around you,--suffering you can relieve. +My duty will end when I have done this, and with you will rest all +further responsibility." Mr. Butler heard her respectfully to the end, +and then asked, "What do you want me to do?" "Sir," she said, "I want +you to give $50,000 toward the enlargement of the insane hospital in +this city." "Madam, I'll do it," he said, and much more of his estate +afterward went the same way. + +Three years of devoted study of the problems of insanity, with +limitless opportunities for personal observation, had given Miss Dix +an expert knowledge of the subject. She had conceived what an insane +asylum should be. Hitherto, she had been content to enlarge upon +foundations already laid; now she would build an asylum herself. She +saw, we are told, that such an institution as she conceived could not +be built by private benevolence, but must have behind it a legislative +appropriation. She chose New Jersey as the field of her experiment. +Quietly, she entered the state and canvassed its jails and almshouses, +as she had those of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Next she digested +her facts in a Memorial to the Legislature. Then, with a political +shrewdness for which she became celebrated, she selected the member, +uniting a good heart with a clear head and persistent will, into whose +hands it should be placed. Much of her success is said to have been +due to her political sagacity. The superintendent of one of her +asylums said, "She had an insight into character that was truly +marvellous; and I have never known anyone, man or woman, who bore more +distinctly the mark of intellectuality." Having placed her Memorial in +the hands of a skilful tactician, she retired to a room appropriated +to her use by the courtesy of the House, where she spent her time +writing editorials for newspapers, answering the questions of members, +and holding receptions. "You cannot imagine," she writes a friend, +"the labor of conversing and convincing. Some evenings I had at once +twenty gentlemen for three hours' steady conversation." After a +campaign of two months the bill establishing the New Jersey State +Lunatic Asylum was passed, and the necessary money appropriated for +its erection. She was always partial to this first creation of her +energy and genius. She called it 'her first child,' and there, +forty-five years later, she returned to pass the last seven years of +her life, as in a home, a room having been gratefully appropriated to +her use by the trustees of the asylum. + +At this date, Dr. S. G. Howe wrote her: "God grant me to look back +upon some three years of my life with a part of the self-approval you +must feel. I ask no higher fortune. No one need say to you, Go on! for +you have heard a higher than any human voice, and you will follow +whithersoever it calleth." Indeed, she already had much of her future +work prepared. While waiting for the Legislature in New Jersey to take +up her bill, she had canvassed Pennsylvania and had the happiness to +see a bill pass the Legislature of that State founding the Dixmont +Hospital, her second child, soon after the birth of her first. The +Dixmont Hospital is the only one of her many children that she would +allow to be even indirectly named for her. Meanwhile, she had +canvassed Kentucky, had been before the Legislature in Tennessee, and, +seven days after the passage of her bill in New Jersey, she writes +from a steamer near Charleston, S. C., as follows: "I designed using +the spring and summer chiefly in examining the jails and poorhouses of +Indiana and Illinois. Having successfully completed my mission in +Kentucky, I learned that traveling in those States would be +difficult, if not impossible, for some weeks to come, on account of +mud and rains. This decided me to examine the prisons and hospitals of +New Orleans, and, returning, to see the state prisons of Louisiana at +Baton Rouge, of Mississippi at Jackson, of Arkansas at Little Rock, of +Missouri at Jefferson City, and of Illinois at Alton.... I have seen +incomparably more to approve than to censure in New Orleans. I took +the resolution, being so far away, of seeing the state institutions of +Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. Though this has proved +excessively fatiguing, I rejoice that I have carried out my purpose." + +Between June 1843 and August 1847, she states in a letter that she +traveled 32,470 miles, her conveyance being by steamboat when +possible; otherwise by stage-coach. It is suggestive of the wrecks and +delays she had experienced with the shattered coaches and mud roads of +the south and west that, as we are told, she "made a practice of +carrying with her an outfit of hammer, wrench, nails, screws, a coil +of rope, and straps of stout leather, which under many a mishap +sufficed to put things to rights and enable her to pursue her +journey." "I have encountered nothing so dangerous as river fords," +she writes. "I crossed the Yadkin when it was three-quarters of a mile +wide, rough bottom, often in places rapid currents; the water always +up to the carriage bed, and sometimes flowing in. The horses rested +twice on sand-bars. A few miles beyond the river having just crossed a +deep branch two hundred yards wide, the axletree broke, and away +rolled one of the back wheels." + +When she said that river fords were her greatest danger, she must have +forgotten an encounter with a highwayman. She was making a stage +journey in Michigan, and noticed with some consternation that the +driver carried a brace of pistols. To her inquiries he explained that +there had been robberies on the road. "Give me the pistols," she said; +"I will take care of them." More in awe of her than of robbers, the +driver reluctantly obeyed. Passing through a dismal forest the +expected happened. A man seized the horses and demanded her purse. She +made him a little speech, asked if he was not ashamed, told him her +business, and concluded, "If you have been unfortunate, are in +distress and in want of money, I will give you some." Meanwhile the +robber had turned "deathly pale," and when she had finished, +exclaimed, "My God, that voice." He had once heard her address the +prisoners in the Philadelphia penitentiary. He begged her to pass, and +declined to take the money she offered. She insisted, lest he might be +again tempted before he found employment. People obeyed when she +insisted, and he took her gift and disappeared. + +Think of the hotel accommodations,--the tables and beds,--she must +have encountered in these wild journeys. This is the woman who, a few +years ago, seemed to be dying with hemorrhages of the lungs. Did she +have no more of them? Oh, yes; we are assured that "again and again +she was attacked with hemorrhages and again and again prostrated by +malarial fever." A physician said, "Her system became actually +saturated with malaria." Invalid as she almost always was, she had +left her foot-prints in most of the states of the Union and had +carried the war into the British Provinces, where she had been the +means of establishing three insane hospitals: one in Toronto, one in +Halifax, one at St. John, Newfoundland, besides providing a fleet of +life-boats at Sable Island, known as "The Graveyard of Ships," off the +coast of Nova Scotia. + +In the United States, during these twelve years, she "promoted and +secured," to use her own phrase, the enlargement of three asylums: at +Worcester, Mass., at Providence, R. I., and at Utica, N. Y., and the +establishment of thirteen, one in each of the following states: New +Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, +Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, North Carolina, and +Maryland, with the Hospital for Insane Soldiers and Sailors, at +Washington, D. C. + +In 1850, Miss Dix proposed a larger scheme of philanthropy than was +ever before projected by any mortal. What is more, but for one man, +she would have carried it out. She petitioned Congress to appropriate +12,000,000 acres of public lands for the benefit of the indigent +insane, deaf and dumb, and blind. A bill to that effect was +introduced, watched by her through two sessions, and finally passed by +both Houses. She was inundated with congratulations from far and near; +but the bill was vetoed on constitutional grounds by President Pierce. +The day for giving away the public lands in sheets had not come. + +The blow seems to have been more than Miss Dix could endure. She went +abroad for change and rest. What rest meant to her, she expresses in +a letter to a friend at home: + + "Rest is not quitting the active career: + Rest is the fitting of self to its sphere." + +These lines, borrowed from John S. Dwight have been, not unnaturally, +attributed to her. She wrote many things perhaps quite as poetical. + +Not much of the verse, which came from her prolific pen, was +considered even by herself to deserve publication, but verse-writing +is said to had been the never-failing diversion of her leisure hours. +Mrs. Caroline A. Kennard credits her with the following lines which, +though very simple, are quite as good as much that has been +immortalized in our hymn books: + + "In the tender, peaceful moonlight, + I am from the world apart, + While a flood of golden glory + Fills alike my room and heart. + + As I gaze upon the radiance + Shining on me from afar, + I can almost see beyond it,-- + Almost see 'the gates ajar.' + + Tender thoughts arise within me + Of the friends who've gone before, + Absent long but not forgotten, + Resting on the other shore. + + And my soul is filled with longing + That when done with earth and sin, + I may find the gates wide open + There for me to enter in." + +Apparently, she wrote her poetry for herself, as an unskilled musician +might play for his own amusement. + +The rest which Miss Dix allowed herself between September 1854 and +September 1856, was to visit the chief hospitals and prisons in +Europe. Edinburgh, the Channel Islands, Paris, Rome, Naples, +Constantinople, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Stockholm, Copenhagen, +Amsterdam, Brussels, and again Paris and London: these places mark the +course of her two years' pilgrimage among the prisons and hospitals of +Europe. She found much to admire in this journey, but sometimes abuses +to correct. We must content ourselves with an incident from Edinburgh, +perfectly in character. She found in that city private insane +hospitals, if they could be dignified by the name, under such +conditions of mismanagement as shocked even her experienced nerves. +Having reported the facts to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh to no +purpose, she was advised to lay the matter before the Home Secretary +in London. The Provost knew of this intention and resolved to +forestall her by taking the train for London the next morning; so +little did he know Miss Dix. She boarded the night train, and was on +the spot before him, had her interview, secured the appointment of a +royal commission and, ultimately the correction of the abuses of which +she had complained. + +During the four years that intervened between her return and the +outbreak of the Civil War, she seems to have travelled over most of +her old ground in this country, and to have extended her journeys into +the new states and territories. At the approach of hostilities, it +fell to Miss Dix to give the President of the Philadelphia and +Baltimore Railroad the first information of a plot to capture the city +of Washington and to assassinate Mr. Lincoln. Acting upon this +information, Gen. Butler's Massachusetts troops were sent by boat +instead of rail, and Mr. Lincoln was "secretly smuggled through to +Washington." + +By natural selection, Miss Dix was appointed Superintendent of Women +Nurses in the federal service, by order of the Secretary of War. In +this capacity she served through the four years' struggle. In a letter +dated December 7, 1864, she writes: "I take no hour's leisure. I think +that since the war, I have taken no day's furlough." Her great +services were officially recognized by Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of +War. + +Having served the country as faithfully as any soldier, during its +hour of need, she returned to her former work of promoting and +securing the erection of hospitals and of visiting those before +established. In 1877, when Miss Dix was seventy-five, Dr. Charles F. +Folsom, of Boston, in a book entitled "Diseases of the Mind," said of +her: "Her frequent visits to our institutions of the insane now, and +her searching criticisms, constitute of themselves a better lunacy +commission than would be likely to be appointed in many of our +states." + +She was at that date, however, near the end of her active labors. In +1881, at the age of seventy-nine, she retired to the hospital she had +been the means of building in Trenton, N. J., and there she remained, +tenderly, even reverently cared for, until her death in 1887. So +passed to her rest and her reward one of the most remarkable women of +her generation. + + + + +V + +SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI + + +[Illustration: SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI] + +At Cambridge, it is still possible to pick up interesting +reminiscences of Longfellow and Lowell from old neighbors or townsmen, +proud even to have seen these celebrities as familiar objects upon the +street. "And Margaret Fuller," you suggest, further to tap the memory +of your venerable friend. He smiles gently and says, Margaret Fuller +was before his time; he remembers the table-talk of his youth. He +remembers, when she was a girl at dancing-school, Papanti stopped his +class and said, "Mees Fuller, Mees Fuller, you sal not be so +magnee-fee-cent"; he remembers that, being asked if she thought +herself better than any one else, she calmly said, "Yes, I do"; and he +remembers that Miss Fuller having announced that she accepted the +universe, a wit remarked that the universe ought to be greatly obliged +to her. + +Margaret Fuller was born in 1810, a year later than Longfellow, but +while Longfellow lived until 1882, Margaret was lost at sea thirty +years before, in 1850. The last four years of her life were spent in +Italy, so that American memories of Margaret must needs go back to +1846. Practically it is traditions of her that remain, and not +memories. As she survives in tradition, she seems to have been a +person of inordinate vanity, who gave lectures in drawing-rooms and +called them "conversations," uttered a commonplace with the authority +of an oracle, and sentimentalized over art, poetry, or religion, while +she seemed to herself, and apparently to others, to be talking +philosophy. She took herself in all seriousness as a genius, ran a +dazzling career of a dozen years or so in Cambridge and Boston, and +then her light seems to have gone out. She came to the surface, with +other newness, in the Transcendental era; she was the priestess of its +mysteries; when that movement ebbed away, her day was over. This is +the impression one would gather, if he had only current oral +traditions of Margaret Fuller. + +If with this impression, wishing to get a first-hand knowledge of his +subject, a student were to read the "Works of Margaret Fuller":--"Life +Within and Without," "At Home and Abroad," "Woman in the Nineteenth +Century," "Art, Literature, and Drama,"--he would be prepared to find +eccentricities of style, straining for effect, mystical utterances, +attempts at profundity, and stilted commonplace. He would, however, +find nothing of this sort, or of any sort of make believe, but simply +a writer always in earnest, always convinced, with a fair English +style, perfectly intelligible, intent upon conveying an idea in the +simplest manner and generally an idea which approves itself to the +common-sense of the reader. There is no brilliancy, no ornament, +little imagination, and not a least glimmer of wit. The absence of wit +is remarkable, since in conversation, wit was a quality for which +Margaret was both admired and feared. But as a writer, Margaret was a +little prosaic,--even her poetry inclined to be prosaic,--but she is +earnest, noble, temperate, and reasonable. The reader will be +convinced that there was more in the woman than popular tradition +recognizes. + +One is confirmed in the conviction that the legend does her less than +justice when he knows the names and the quality of her friends. No +woman ever had better or more loyal friends than Margaret Fuller. +Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Freeman Clarke and William Henry Channing +were among them and compiled her "Memoirs," evidently as a labor of +love. George William Curtis knew her personally, and called her "a +scholar, a critic, a thinker, a queen of conversation, above all, a +person of delicate insight and sympathy, of the most feminine +refinement of feeling and of dauntless courage." Col. Higginson, a +fellow-townsman, who from youth to manhood, knew Margaret personally, +whose sisters were her intimates, whose family, as he tells us, was +"afterwards closely connected" with hers by marriage, and who has +studied all the documents and written her biography, says she was a +"person whose career is more interesting, as it seems to me, than that +of any other American of her sex; a woman whose aims were high and +whose services great; one whose intellect was uncommon, whose activity +was incessant, whose life, varied, and whose death, dramatic." + +There still remains the current legend, and a legend, presumably, has +some foundation. If we attempt to unite the Margaret Fuller of common +tradition with Margaret Fuller as estimated by her friends, we shall +assume that she was not a wholly balanced character,--that she must +have been a great and noble woman to have had such friends, but that +there may have been in her some element of foolishness which her +friends excused and at which the public smiled. + +Margaret was the fifth in descent from Lieut. Thomas Fuller, who came +from England in 1638, and who celebrated the event in a poem of which +the first stanza is as follows: + + "In thirty-eight I set my foot + On this New England shore; + My thoughts were then to stay one year, + And then remain no more." + +The poetry is on a level with other colonial poetry of the period. + +Timothy Fuller, the grandfather of Margaret, graduated at Harvard +College in 1760, became a clergyman, and was a delegate to the +Massachusetts State Convention which adopted the Federal Constitution. +He had five sons, all of whom became lawyers. "They were in general," +says Col. Higginson, "men of great energy, pushing, successful, of +immense and varied information, of great self-esteem, and without a +particle of tact." The evidence is that Margaret reproduced, in a +somewhat exaggerated form, all these Fuller characteristics, good and +bad. The saying is quoted from Horace Mann that if Margaret +was unpopular, "it was because she probably inherited the +disagreeableness of forty Fullers." + +Timothy Fuller, Margaret's father, was the oldest of these brothers +and, Col. Higginson says, "the most successful and the most assured." +He graduated at Harvard, second in his class, in 1801, lived in +Cambridge, and represented the Middlesex district in Congress from +1817 to 1825. He was a "Jeffersonian Democrat" and a personal friend +and political supporter of John Quincy Adams. He married Margaret, the +daughter of Major Peter Crane. Mrs. Fuller was as gentle and +unobtrusive as her stalwart husband was forceful and uncompliant. She +effaced herself even in her own home, was seen and not heard, though +apparently not very conspicuously seen. She had eight children, of +whom Margaret was the first, and when this busy mother escaped from +the care of the household, it was to take refuge in her flower garden. +A "fair blossom of the white amaranth," Margaret calls this mother. +The child's nature took something from both of her parents, and was +both strong and tender. + +Her father assumed the entire charge of Margaret's education, setting +her studying Latin at the age of six, not an unusual feat in that day +for a boy, but hitherto unheard of for a girl. Her lessons were +recited at night, after Mr. Fuller returned from his office in Boston, +often at a late hour. "High-pressure," says Col. Higginson, "is bad +enough for an imaginative and excitable child, but high-pressure by +candle-light is ruinous; yet that was the life she lived." The effect +of these night lessons was to leave the child's brain both tired and +excited and in no condition to sleep. It was considered singular that +she was never ready for bed. She was hustled off to toss on her +pillow, to see horrid visions, to have nightmare, and sometimes to +walk in her sleep. Terrible morning headaches followed, and Margaret +was considered a delicate child. One would like to know what Latin at +six would have done for her, without those recitations by +candle-light. + +Mr. Fuller did not consider it important that a child should have +juvenile books and Margaret's light reading consisted of Shakspere, +Cervantes, and Molière. She gives an interesting account of her +discovery of Shakspere at the age of eight. Foraging for entertainment +on a dismal winter Sunday afternoon, she took down a volume of +Shakspere and was soon lost in the adventures and misadventures of +Romeo and Juliet. Two hours passed, when the child's exceeding quiet +attracted attention. "That is no book for Sunday," said her father, +"put it away." Margaret obeyed, but soon took the book again to follow +the fortunes of her lovers further. This was a fatal indiscretion; the +forbidden volume was again taken from her and she was sent to bed as a +punishment for disobedience. + +Meanwhile, the daily lessons to her father or to a private tutor went +on; Virgil, Horace and Ovid were read in due course, and the study of +Greek was begun. Margaret never forgave her father for robbing her of +a proper childhood and substituting a premature scholastic education. +"I certainly do not wish," she says, "that instead of these masters, I +had read baby books, written down to children, but I do wish that I +had read no books at all till later,--that I had lived with toys and +played in the open air." + +Her early and solitary development entailed disadvantages which only a +very thoughtful parent could have foreseen. When, later, Margaret was +sent to school, she had no companions in study, being in advance of +the girls of her age, with whom she played, and too young for the +older set with whom she was called to recite. "Not only," she says, "I +was not their schoolmate, but my book-life and lonely habits had given +a cold aloofness to my whole expression, and veiled my manner with a +hauteur which turned all hearts away." + +The effects of her training upon her health, Margaret appears to have +exaggerated. She thought it had "checked her growth, wasted her +constitution," and would bring her to a "premature grave." While her +lessons to her father by candle-light continued, there were +sleeplessness, bad dreams, and morning headaches, but after this had +gone on one year, Mr. Fuller was elected to Congress, spent most of +his time in Washington, and a private tutor gave the lessons, +presumably at seasonable hours. No one with a "broken constitution" +could have performed her later literary labors, and she was not +threatened with a "premature grave" when Dr. Frederick Henry Hedge +made her acquaintance in Cambridge society. "Margaret," he says, "was +then about thirteen,--a child in years, but so precocious in her +mental and physical development, that she passed for eighteen or +twenty. Agreeably to this estimate, she had her place in society as a +full-grown lady. When I recall her personal appearance as she was +then, and for ten or twelve years subsequent, I have the idea of a +blooming girl of florid complexion and vigorous health, with a +tendency to robustness of which she was painfully conscious, and +which, with little regard to hygienic principles, she endeavored to +suppress and conceal, thereby preparing for herself much future +suffering." She had, he says, "no pretensions to beauty then, or at +any time," yet she "was not plain," a reproach from which she was +saved "by her blond and abundant hair, by her excellent teeth, by her +sparkling, dancing, busy eyes," and by a "graceful and peculiar +carriage of her head and neck." He adds that "in conversation she had +already, at that early age, begun to distinguish herself, and made +much the same impression in society that she did in after years," but +that she had an excessive "tendency to sarcasm" which frightened shy +young people and made her notoriously unpopular with the ladies. + +At this period Margaret attended a seminary for young ladies in +Boston. Cambridge was then, according to Col. Higginson, a vast, +sparsely settled village, containing between two and three thousand +inhabitants. In the Boston school, Dr. Hedge says, "the inexperienced +country girl was exposed to petty persecutions from the dashing misses +of the city," and Margaret paid them off by "indiscriminate sarcasms." + +Margaret's next two years were spent at a boarding school in Groton. +Her adventures in this school are supposed to be narrated in her +dramatic story entitled "Mariana," in the volume called "Summer on the +Lakes." Mariana at first carried all before her "by her love of wild +dances and sudden song, her freaks of passion and wit," but abusing +her privileges, she is overthrown by her rebellious subjects, brought +to great humiliation, and receives some needed moral instructions. + +At fifteen, Margaret returned to Cambridge and resumed her private +studies, except that, for a Greek recitation, she attended an academy +in which Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was then fitting for college. Her +day at this period, as she gives it, was occupied thus: she rose +before five, walked an hour, and practiced at the piano till seven: +breakfasted and read French till eight; read Brown's philosophy, two +or three lectures, till half past nine; went to school and studied +Greek till twelve; recited, went home, and practiced till two; dined; +lounged half an hour, read two hours in Italian, walked or rode, and +spent her evenings leisurely with music or friends. Plainly she ought +to have been one of the learned women of her generation. + +A school composition of Margaret impressed her fellow pupil, Dr. +Holmes, as he relates, with a kind of awe. It began loftily with the +words, "It is a trite remark," a phrase which seemed to the boy very +masterful. The girls envied her a certain queenliness of manner. "We +thought," says one of them, "that if we could only come into school in +that way, we could know as much Greek as she did." She was accustomed +to fill the hood of her cloak with books, swing them over her +shoulder, and march away. "We wished," says this lady, "that our +mothers would let us have hooded cloaks, that we might carry our books +in the same way." + +It is known that Margaret had several love affairs and, in a later +letter, she refers to one which belongs to this period, and which +appears to have been the first of the series. She meets her old adorer +again at the age of thirty and writes to a friend who knew of the +youthful episode. He had the same powerful eye, calm wisdom, refined +observation and "the imposing _maniere d'etre_ which anywhere would +give him influence among men"; but in herself, she says, "There is +scarcely a fibre left of the haughty, passionate, ambitious child he +remembered and loved." + +Though a precocious girl and in a way fascinating, there is evidence +that Margaret was crude and unformed socially, due perhaps to the +habit of considering her mother as a negligible quantity. Cambridge +ladies preserved an unpleasant portrait of the child as she appeared +at a grand reception given by Mr. Fuller to President Adams in 1826, +"one of the most elaborate affairs of the kind," says Col. Higginson, +"that had occurred in Cambridge since the ante-revolutionary days of +the Lechmeres and Vassals." Margaret ought to have been dressed by an +artist, but apparently, a girl of sixteen, she was left to her own +devices. She appeared, we are told, with a low-necked dress badly cut, +tightly laced, her arms held back as if pinioned, her hair curled all +over her head, and she danced quadrilles very badly. This escapade was +not allowed to repeat itself. Certain kind and motherly Cambridge +ladies took the neglected child in hand, tamed her rude strength, and +subdued her manners. Col. Higginson mentions half a dozen of these +excellent ladies, among them his mother, at whose feet "this studious, +self-conscious, overgrown girl" would sit, "covering her hands with +kisses and treasuring every word." + +Chief among Margaret's motherly friends was Mrs. Eliza Farrar, wife of +a Harvard professor, an authoress of merit, "of uncommon character and +cultivation, who had lived much in Europe, and who, with no children +of her own," became a kind of foster-mother to Margaret. She had +Margaret "constantly at her own house, reformed her hairdresser, +instructed her dressmaker, and took her to make calls and on +journeys." Margaret was an apt pupil, and the good training of these +many Cambridge mothers was apparent when, ten years later, Mr. Emerson +made her acquaintance. "She was then, as always," he says, "carefully +and becomingly dressed, and of lady-like self-possession." + +The seven years in Cambridge, from Margaret's fifteenth to her +twenty-third year, though uneventful, were, considering merely the +pleasure of existence, the most delightful of her life. She was a +school-girl as much or as little as she cared to be; her health, when +not overtaxed, was perfect; her family though not rich, were in easy +circumstances; her father was distinguished, having just retired from +Congress after eight years of creditable service; and, partly perhaps +from her father's distinction, she had access to the best social +circles of Cambridge. "In our evening reunions," says Dr. Hedge, "she +was always conspicuous by the brilliancy of her wit, which needed but +little provocation to break forth in exuberant sallies, that drew +around her a knot of listeners, and made her the central attraction of +the hour. Rarely did she enter a company in which she was not a +prominent object." Her conversational talent "continued to develop +itself in these years, and was certainly" he thinks, "her most decided +gift. One could form no adequate idea of her ability without hearing +her converse.... For some reason or other, she could never deliver +herself in print as she did with her lips." Emerson, in perfect +agreement with this estimate says, "Her pen was a non-conductor." The +reader will not think this true in her letters, where often the words +seem to palpitate. Doubtless the world had no business to see her love +letters, but one will find there a woman who, if she could speak as +she writes, must have poured herself out in tidal waves. + +Dr. Hedge was struck by two traits of Margaret's character, repeatedly +mentioned by others, but to which it is worth while to have his +testimony. The first was a passionate love for the beautiful: "I have +never known one who seemed to derive such satisfaction from beautiful +forms"; the second was "her intellectual sincerity. Her judgment took +no bribes from her sex or her sphere, nor from custom, nor tradition, +nor caprice." + +Margaret was nineteen years old when Dr. James Freeman Clarke, then a +young man in college, made her acquaintance. "We both lived in +Cambridge," he says, "and from that time until she went to reside in +Groton in 1833, I saw her or heard from her almost every day. There +was a family connection between us, and we called each other cousins." +Possessing in a greater degree than any person he ever knew, the power +of magnetizing others, she had drawn about her a circle of girl +friends whom she entertained and delighted by her exuberant talent. +They came from Boston, Charlestown, Roxbury, Brookline, and met now at +one house and now at another of these pleasant towns. Dr. Hedge also +knows of this charming circle, and says, "she loved to draw these fair +girls to herself, and make them her guests, and was never so happy as +when surrounded in company, by such a bevy." + +With all her social activity, Margaret kept up her studies at a rate +that would be the despair of a young man in college. "She already, +when I first became acquainted with her," says Dr. Clarke, "had become +familiar with the masterpieces of French, Italian, and Spanish +literature," and was beginning German, and in about three months, she +was reading with ease the masterpieces of German literature. +Meanwhile, she was keeping up her Greek as a pastime, reading over and +over the dialogues of Plato. Still there is time for Mr. Clarke to +walk with her for hours beneath the lindens or in the garden, or, on a +summer's day to ride with her on horseback from Cambridge to +Newton,--a day he says, "all of a piece, in which my eloquent +companion helped me to understand my past life and her own." + +We cannot wonder that, at the age of twenty-three, Margaret +reluctantly left Cambridge where there was so much that she loved, and +went with her family to a farm in Groton where, with certain +unpleasant school-girl memories, there was nothing that she loved at +all. In 1833, at the age of sixty-five Mr. Fuller retired from his law +practice and bought an estate in Groton, with the double purpose of +farming his lands for income, and, in his leisure, writing a history +of the United States, for which his public life had been a +preparation, and towards which he had collected much material. +Margaret's most exacting duties were the education of the younger +children, which left her much time for her favorite studies. She had +correspondents by the score; her friends visited her; Cambridge homes +were open to her; and Mrs. Farrar took her on a delightful journey to +Newport, Hudson River and Trenton Falls. Still we cannot add the two +years in Groton to her happy period, because she allowed herself to be +intensely miserable. Six years later, in a moment of penitence, she +said of this period, "Had I been wise in such matters then as now, how +easy and fair I might have made the whole." + +She fought her homesickness by overwork, so that Emerson says, "her +reading in Groton was at a rate like Gibbon's," and she paid the +penalty of her excesses by a serious illness which threatened to be +fatal, and from which perhaps she never fully recovered. It was some +consolation that her father was melted to an unwonted exhibition of +tenderness, and that he said to her in this mood, "My dear, I have +been thinking of you in the night, and I cannot remember that you have +any faults. You have defects, of course, as all mortals have, but I do +not know that you have a single fault." + +Events were soon to make this remark one of her dearest memories. In a +short time, death separated the father and child, who had been so much +to each other. In 1835, Mr. Fuller fell a victim to cholera, and died +in three days. For a year or more, Margaret's heart had been set upon +a visit to Europe for study; the trip had been promised by her father; +it had been arranged that she should accompany her friends, the +Farrars; but the death of Mr. Fuller dissolved this dream, and, in her +journal, solemnly praying that "duty may now be the first object and +self set aside," she dedicates her strength to her "mother, brothers, +and sister." No one can read the "Memoirs" without feeling that she +kept her vows. + +The estate of Mr. Fuller finally yielded $2,000 to each of the seven +children, much less, Margaret says, than was anticipated. With +reason, she wrote, "Life, as I look forward, presents a scene of +struggle and privation only." In the winter, at Mrs. Farrar's, +Margaret met Mr. Emerson; the summer following she visited at his +house in Concord. There she met Mr. Alcott and engaged to teach in his +school in Boston. + +Margaret Fuller's visit at Mr. Emerson's in 1836 had for her very +important consequences. It was the first of many visits and was the +beginning of an intimacy which takes its place among the most +interesting literary friendships in the history of letters. To this +friendship Col. Higginson devotes a separate chapter in his biography +of Margaret, and in the "Memoirs," under the title of "Visits to +Concord," Mr. Emerson gives a charming account of it in more than a +hundred pages. + +Mr. Emerson was by no means the stranger to Margaret that she was to +him. She had sat under his preaching during his pastorate at the +Second Church in Boston, and "several of his sermons," so she wrote to +a friend, "stood apart in her memory like landmarks in her spiritual +history." It appears that she had failed to come to close quarters +with this timid apostle. A year after he left his pulpit, she wrote of +him as the "only clergyman of all possible clergymen who eludes my +acquaintance." + +When, at length, she was invited to Concord, it was as Mrs. Emerson's +guest, not as his: "she came to spend a fortnight with my wife." +However, at last she was under his roof. "I still remember," he says, +"the first half hour of her conversation.... Her extreme plainness,--a +trick of incessantly opening and shutting her eyelids,--the nasal tone +of her voice--all repelled; and I said to myself, we shall never get +far.... I remember that she made me laugh more than I liked.... She +had an incredible variety of anecdotes, and the readiest wit to give +an absurd turn to whatever passed; and the eyes, which were so plain +at first, soon swam with fun and drolleries, and the very tides of joy +and superabundant life." + +The practical outcome of the visit was an engagement to teach in Mr. +Alcott's school. Under date of August 2, 1836, Mr. Alcott writes, +"Emerson called this morning and took me to Concord to spend the day. +At his house, I met Margaret Fuller ... and had some conversation with +her about taking Miss Peabody's place in my school." That is to say, +Mr. Emerson had in his house a brilliant young lady who, by stress of +circumstances, wanted a situation; he had a friend in Boston in whose +school there was a vacancy; Mr. Emerson, at some pains to himself, +brought the parties together. Nor was this the last time that Mr. +Emerson befriended Margaret. + +It appears from Mr. Alcott's diary that Miss Fuller began her +engagement with January, that she taught Latin and French at the +school, and French, German, and Italian to private classes. For a +class of beginners, she "thought it good success," she says, "when at +the end of three months, they could read twenty pages of German at a +lesson, and very well." An advanced class in German read Goethe's +Hermann and Dorothea, Goetz von Berlichingen, Iphigenia, and the first +part of Faust, "three weeks of thorough study," she calls it, "as +valuable to me as to them." + +The class in Italian went at an equal pace. At the same time she had +three private pupils, to one of whom, every day for ten weeks, she +taught Latin "orally,"--in other words, Latin conversation. In her +leisure, she "translated, one evening every week, German authors into +English for the gratification of Dr. Channing." It is to be hoped that +she was paid for this service, because she found it far from +interesting. "It is not very pleasant," she writes, "for Dr. Channing +takes in subjects more deliberately than is conceivable to us feminine +people." + +In the spring of 1837, Margaret accepted an invitation to teach in a +private academy in Providence, R. I.--four hours a day, at a salary of +$1,000. We are not told how this invitation came to her, but it is not +difficult to detect the hand of Mr. Emerson. The proprietor of the +school was an admirer of Emerson, so much so that he brought Emerson +from Concord in June following, to dedicate a new school building. His +relation to both parties makes it probable that Margaret owed her +second engagement, as she did her first, to the good offices of Mr. +Emerson. + +She taught in this school with success, two years, "worshipped by the +girls," it is said, "but sometimes too sarcastic for the boys." The +task of teaching, however, was irksome to her, her mind was in +literature; she had from Mr. Ripley a definite proposition to write a +"Life of Goethe," a task of which she had dreamed many years; and she +resigned her position, and withdrew from the profession of +school-teacher, at the end of 1838. Her life of Goethe was never +written, but it was always dancing before her eyes and, more than +once, determined her course. + +In the following spring, Margaret took a pleasant house in Jamaica +Plain, "then and perhaps now," Col. Higginson says, "the most rural +and attractive suburb of Boston." Here she brought her mother and the +younger children. Three years later, she removed with them to +Cambridge, and for the next five years, she kept the family together, +and made a home for them. In addition to the income of the estate, she +expected to meet her expenses by giving lessons. Two pupils came with +her from Providence, and other pupils came for recitations, by whom +she was paid at the rate of two dollars an hour. + +With these resources the life in Jamaica Plain began very quietly and +pleasantly. To be quiet however was not natural to Margaret. Besides, +she had fallen upon what, intellectually, were stirring times. It was +at the high tide of the Transcendental movement. William Henry +Channing who, like Margaret, was a part of it, says, "the summer of +1839 saw the full dawn of this strange enthusiasm." As he briefly +defines it "Transcendentalism, as viewed by its disciples, was a +pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds and rituals to the +temple of the living God in the soul." Its disciples, says Mr. +Channing, "were pleasantly nick-named the 'Like-minded,' on the ground +that no two were of the same opinion." Of this company, he says, +"Margaret was a member by the grace of nature.... Men, her superiors +in years, in fame and social position, treated her more with the +frankness due from equal to equal, than the half condescending +deference with which scholars are wont to adapt themselves to +women.... It was evident that they prized her verdict, respected her +criticism, feared her rebuke, and looked to her as an umpire." In +speaking, "her opening was deliberate, like the progress of a massive +force gaining its momentum; but as she felt her way, and moving in a +congenial element, the sweep of her speech became grand. The style of +her eloquence was sententious, free from prettiness, direct, vigorous, +charged with vitality." + +It was a saying of hers that if she had been a man, she would have +aspired to become an orator, and it seems probable she would not have +aspired in vain. The natural sequel to the occasional discussions of +the summer was the formation of a class of ladies for Conversation, +with Margaret as the leader. This class contained twenty-five or +thirty ladies, among whom were Mrs. George Bancroft, Mrs. Lydia Maria +Child, Mrs. Horace Mann, Mrs. Theodore Parker, Mrs. Waldo Emerson, +Mrs. George Ripley, and Mrs. Josiah Quincy. The first series of +thirteen meetings was immediately followed by a second series; they +were resumed the next winter and were continued with unabated interest +for five years. + +The subjects considered in these celebrated Conversations ranged over +a very wide field, from mythology and religion, poetry and art, to +war, ethics, and sociology. If Margaret had not been brilliant in +these assemblies, she would have fallen short of herself as she has +been represented in the Cambridge drawing-rooms. As reported by one of +the members of the class, "Margaret used to come to the conversations +very well dressed and, altogether, looked sumptuously. She began them +with an exordium in which she gave her leading views,"--a part which +she is further said to have managed with great skill and charm, after +which she invited others to join in the discussion. Mr. Emerson tells +us that the apparent sumptuousness in her attire was imaginary, the +"effect of a general impression made by her genius and mistakenly +attributed to some external elegance; for," he says, "I have been told +by her most intimate friend, who knew every particular of her conduct +at the time, that there was nothing of especial expense or splendor in +her toilette." + +Mr. Emerson knew a lady "of eminent powers, previously by no means +partial to Margaret," who said, on leaving one of these assemblies, "I +never heard, read of, or imagined a conversation at all equal to this +we have now heard." Many testimonies have been brought together, in +the "Memoirs," of the enthusiasm and admiration created by Margaret in +these Conversations. They were probably her most brilliant +achievements, though, in the nature of the case, nothing survives of +them but the echo in these recorded memories of participants. + +Mr. Emerson says that "the fame of these conversations" led to a +proposal that Margaret should undertake an evening class to which +gentlemen should be admitted and that he himself had the pleasure of +"assisting at one--the second--of these soirees." Margaret "spoke +well--she could not otherwise,--but I remember that she seemed +encumbered, or interrupted, by the headiness or incapacity of the +men." A lady who attended the entire series, a "true hand," he says, +reports that "all that depended on others entirely failed" and that +"even in the point of erudition, which Margaret did not profess on the +subject, she proved the best informed of the party." This testimony is +worth something in answer to the charge that Margaret's scholarship +was fictitious, that she had a smattering of many things, but knew +nothing thoroughly. She seems to have compared well with others, some +of whom were considered scholars. "Take her as a whole," said Mr. +Emerson's informant, "she has the most to bestow on others by +conversation of any person I have ever known." + +For these services, Margaret seems to have received liberal +compensation, though all was so cordial that she says she never had +the feeling of being "a paid Corinne." For the conversations with +ladies and gentlemen, according to Mrs. Dall who has published her +notes of them, the tickets were $20 each, for the series of ten +evenings. + +It appears from his account that Mr. Emerson saw much of Margaret +during these years and that she was frequently his guest. "The day," +he says, "was never long enough to exhaust her opulent memory; and I, +who knew her intimately for ten years,--from July, 1836, till August, +1846, when she sailed for Europe,--never saw her without a surprise at +her new powers." She was as busy as he, and they seldom met in the +forenoon, but "In the evening, she came to the library, and many and +many a conversation was there held," he tells us, "whose details, if +they could be preserved, would justify all encomiums. They interested +me in every manner;--talent, memory, wit, stern introspection, poetic +play, religion, the finest personal feeling, the aspects of the +future, each followed each in full activity, and left me, I remember, +enriched, and sometimes astonished by the gifts of my guest." + +She was "rich in friends," and wore them "as a necklace of diamonds +about her neck." "She was an active and inspiring companion and +correspondent, and all the art, the thought and nobleness of New +England seemed, at that moment, related to her and she to it. She was +everywhere a welcome guest.... Her arrival was a holiday, and so was +her abode ... all tasks that could be suspended were put aside to +catch the favorable hour, in walking, riding, or boating to talk with +this joyful guest, who brought wit, anecdotes, love-stories, +tragedies, oracles with her, and, with her broad relations to so many +fine friends, seemed like the queen of some parliament of love, who +carried the key to all confidences, and to whom every question had +been finally referred." + +At a later day, when Margaret was in Italy, reports came back that she +was making conquests, and having advantageous offers of marriage. Even +Mr. Emerson expressed surprise at these social successes in a strange +land, but a lady said to him, "There is nothing extraordinary in it. +Had she been a man, any one of those fine girls of sixteen, who +surrounded her here, would have married her: they were all in love +with her." + +"Of personal influence, speaking strictly,--an efflux, that is, purely +of mind and character," Mr. Emerson thinks she had more than any other +person he ever knew. Even a recluse like Hawthorne yielded to this +influence. Hawthorne was married to Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842, and +began housekeeping in the Old Manse in Concord. The day following +their engagement Miss Peabody wrote Miss Fuller addressing her "Dear, +most noble Margaret," and saying, "I feel that you are entitled, +through our love and regard to be told directly.... Mr. Hawthorne, +last evening, in the midst of his emotions, so deep and absorbing, +after deciding, said that Margaret can now, when she visits Mr. +Emerson spend part of the time with us." A month after the marriage, +Hawthorne himself wrote to Margaret, "There is nobody to whom I would +more willingly speak my mind, because I can be certain of being +understood." Evidently he is not beginning an acquaintance; he already +knows Margaret intimately and respects her thoroughly. There is no +evidence, I believe, that during her life, he held any different +opinion of her. + +These facts have become of special interest because, in Italy, eight +years after her death, he wrote in his Note-Book, that Margaret "had a +strong and coarse nature" and that "she was a great humbug." The most +reasonable explanation of this change of view is that Margaret was +dead, poor woman, and could not speak for herself; that she had fought +with all her might in an Italian Revolution that had failed; that +having failed, she and her party were discredited; that her enemies +survived, and Hawthorne listened to them. However his later opinions +may be explained, the quality of her friends in America, among whom +had been Hawthorne himself, is evidence that Margaret was not of a +"coarse nature," and it is incredible that a "humbug" could have +imposed herself for five years upon those ladies who attended her +conversations, not to speak of James Freeman Clarke who was a fair +scholar and Dr. Hedge who was a very rare scholar. + +Margaret had her weaknesses, which her friends do not conceal. It was +a weakness, not perhaps that she overestimated herself; that might be +pardoned; but that she took no pains to conceal her high opinion of +her abilities and worth. One likes to see an appearance of modesty, +and that little deceit Margaret did not practice. On the contrary, Mr. +Emerson says, "Margaret at first astonished and then repelled us by a +complacency that seemed the most assured since the days of +Scaligar.... In the coolest way, she said to her friends, 'I now know +all the people worth knowing in America, and I find no intellect +comparable to my own.'... It is certain that Margaret occasionally let +slip, with all the innocence imaginable, some phrase betraying the +presence of a rather mountainous ME, in a way to surprise those who +knew her good sense." Col. Higginson quotes a saying about the +Fullers, that "Their only peculiarity was that they said openly about +themselves the good and bad things which we commonly suppress about +ourselves and express only about other people." The common way is not +more sincere, but it is pleasanter. + +In 1840, the second year of Margaret's Conversations, appeared the +first number of _The Dial_, a literary magazine of limited +circulation, but destined to a kind of post-mortem immortality. In +1841, the Community of Brook Farm was established. An interesting +account of both enterprises, and of Margaret's part in them, is given +by Mr. Emerson in a paper found in the tenth volume of his collected +Works. In the preliminary discussions leading to both enterprises, +Margaret participated. Like Mr. Emerson, she did not have unqualified +faith in the Brook Farm experiment and did not join the community, +though she had many friends in it, was a frequent visitor, and had the +honor to sit for the portrait of "Zenobia" in Mr. Hawthorne's +Blithedale Romance. + +Her part in _The Dial_ was more prominent. She edited the first two +volumes of the magazine, being then succeeded by Mr. Emerson, and she +wrote for it a paper entitled "Man vs. Men: Woman vs. Women," +afterward expanded and published in a volume under the title, "Woman +in the Nineteenth Century," her second and most famous book. Her first +book, "Summer on the Lakes," is an account of a charming journey, with +the family of James Freeman Clarke and others, by steamboat and farm +wagon, as far as the Mississippi. It was a voyage of discovery, and +her account has permanent historic interest. + +In 1844, Margaret accepted an advantageous offer to become literary +editor of the _New York Tribune_, a position which she was admirably +qualified to fill. A collection of papers from _The Tribune_, under +the title of "Literature and Art," made up her third book, published +in 1846, on the eve of her departure for Europe. + +During her residence in New York, she became greatly interested in +philanthropies, especially in the care of prisoners of her own sex. +She visited the jails and prisons, interviewed the inmates, gave them +"conversations," and wrought upon them the same miracle which she had +so often performed in refined drawing-rooms. "If she had been born to +large fortune," said Mr. Greeley, "a house of refuge for all female +outcasts desiring to return to the ways of virtue would have been one +of her most cherished and first realized conceptions." + +Early in her New York residence must also have occurred that rather +mysterious love affair with the young Hebrew, Mr. Nathan, who seems +first to have charmed her with his music and then with his heart. +After nearly sixty years, the letters which she wrote him, full of +consuming fire, have at last seen the light. From a passage in one of +them, it would seem that marriage was not contemplated by either +party, that in theory at least they took no thought of the morrow, the +bliss of the moment being held sufficient. Evidently there was no +engagement, but no one can doubt that on her part there was love. Of +course in this changing world, no such relations can be maintained for +ever, and in the end there will be an awakening, and then pain. + +In 1846, Margaret realized her life-dream and went to Europe. Destined +to a life of adventure, she was accidently separated from her party, +and spent a perilous night on Ben Lomond, without a particle of +shelter, in a drenching rain, a thrilling account of which she has +written. She visited Carlyle and, for a wonder, he let her take a +share in the conversation. To Mr. Emerson he wrote, Margaret "is very +narrow sometimes, but she is truly high." + +On her way to Italy, the goal of her ambition, she visited George Sand +and they had such a meeting as two women of genius might. She sailed +from Genoa for Naples in February, 1847, and arrived in Rome in May +following. There is much to interest a reader in her Italian life, but +the one thing which cannot be omitted is the story of her marriage to +the Marquis Ossoli. Soon after her arrival in Rome, on a visit to St. +Peter's, Margaret became separated from her friends, whom she did not +again discover at the place appointed for meeting. A gentleman seeing +her distress, offered to get her a carriage and, not finding one, +walked home with her. This was the young Marquis Ossoli, and thus +fortuitously the acquaintance began, which was continued by occasional +meetings. The summer Margaret spent in the north of Italy, and when +she returned to Rome, she took modest apartments in which she received +her friends every Monday evening, and the Marquis came very regularly. + +It was not long however before he confessed his love for her and asked +her hand in marriage. He was gently rejected, being told that he ought +to marry a younger woman, and that she would be his friend but not +his wife. He however persisted, at length won her consent, and they +were privately married in December. I follow the account of Mrs. +William Story, wife of the artist, then residing in Rome. The old +Marquis Ossoli had recently died, leaving an unsettled estate, of +which his two older sons, both in the Papal service, were the +executors. "Every one knows," says Mrs. Story, "that law is subject to +ecclesiastical influence in Rome, and that marriage with a Protestant +would be destructive of all prospect of favorable administration." + +The birth of a child a year later, at Rieti in the Appenines, whither +Margaret had retired, made secrecy seem more imperative; or, as +Margaret said, in order to defend the child "from the stings of +poverty, they were patient waiters for the restored law of the land." +The Italian Revolution of 1848 was then in progress. Ossoli her +husband, was a captain in the Civic Guard, on duty in Rome, and the +letters which she wrote him at this period of trial, were the only +fragments of her treasures recovered from the wreck in which she +perished. + +Leaving her babe with his nurse, in April following, she visited Rome +and was shut up in the siege by the French army which had been sent +to overthrow the provisional government and restore the authority of +the pope. "Ossoli took station with his men on the walls of the +Vatican garden where he remained faithfully to the end of the attack. +Margaret had entire charge of one of the hospitals.... I have walked +through the wards with her," says Mrs. Story, "and seen how comforting +was her presence to the poor suffering men. 'How long will the Signora +stay?' 'When will the Signora come again?' they eagerly asked.... They +raised themselves up on their elbows to get the last glimpse of her as +she was going away." + +In the midst of these dangers, Margaret confided to Mrs. Story the +secret of her marriage and placed in her hands the marriage +certificate and other documents relating to the affair. These papers +were afterward returned to Margaret and were lost in the wreck. + +The failure of the Revolution was the financial ruin of all those who +had staked their fortunes in it. They had much reason to be thankful +if they escaped with their lives. By the intervention of friends, the +Ossolis were dealt with very leniently. Mr. Greenough, the artist, +interested himself in their behalf and procured for them permission to +retire, outside the papal territory, to Florence. Ossoli even +obtained a small part of his patrimony. + +Except the disappointment and sorrow over the faded dream of Italian +Independence, the winter at Florence was one of the bright spots in +Margaret's life. She was proud of her husband's part in the +Revolution: "I rejoice," she says, "in all Ossoli did." She had her +babe with her and her happiness in husband and child was perfect: "My +love for Ossoli is most pure and tender, nor has any one, except my +mother or little children, loved me so genuinely as he does.... Ossoli +seems to me more lovely and good every day; our darling child is well +now, and every day more gay and playful." + +She found pleasant and congenial society: "I see the Brownings often," +she says, "and love them both more and more as I know them better. Mr. +Browning enriches every hour I spend with him, and is a most cordial, +true, and noble man. One of my most prized Italian friends, +Marchioness Arconati Visconti, of Milan, is passing the winter here, +and I see her almost every day." Moreover she was busy with a +congenial task. At the very opening of the struggle for liberty, she +planned to write a history of the eventful period, and with this +purpose, collected material for the undertaking, and already had a +large part of the work in manuscript. She finished the writing in +Florence, and much value was set upon it both by herself and by her +friends in Italy. Mrs. Story says, "in the estimation of most of those +who were in Italy at the time, the loss of Margaret's history and +notes is a great and irreparable one. No one could have possessed so +many avenues of direct information from both sides." + +When the spring opened, it was decided to return to America, partly to +negotiate directly with the publisher, but chiefly because, having +exhausted her resources, Margaret's pen must henceforth be the main +reliance of the little family. It is pathetic to know that, after +their passage had been engaged, "letters came which, had they reached +her a week earlier, would probably have induced them to remain in +Italy." + +They sailed, May 17, 1850, in a merchant vessel, the only other +passengers being the baby's nurse and Mr. Horace Sumner, a younger +brother of Senator Sumner. After a protracted and troubled voyage of +two months, the vessel arrived off the coast of New Jersey, on July +18. The "weather was thick.... By nine p. m. there was a gale, by +midnight a hurricane," and at four o'clock on the morning of July 19, +the vessel grounded on the shallow sands of Fire Island. The captain +had died of smallpox on the voyage; his widow, the mate in command of +the vessel, and four seamen reached the shore; Mr. Sumner and the +Ossolis perished. The cruel part of the tragedy is that it seems +probable every soul on board might have been saved. Life-boats, only +three miles away, did not arrive until noon; that is, after eight +precious hours had passed. Moreover, in a moment of penitence, one of +the life-boat crew said, "Oh, if we had known that any such persons of +importance were on board, we should have done our best." + +Margaret, the name by which she will always be known, had passed her +fortieth birthday at sea on this voyage. It seems a short life in +which to have crowded so much and such varied experience. She had some +trials even in her youth, but for two-thirds of her existence, she +might have been considered a favorite of fortune. In later life, she +had some battles to fight, but her triumphs were great enough to +dazzle a person with more modesty than was her endowment. She suffered +in Italy, both for her child left to strangers in the mountains, and +for her adopted country, but they were both causes, in which for her, +suffering was a joy. She did not desire to survive her husband and +child, nor to leave them behind, and, we may say, happily they all +went together. "Her life seems to me," says Col. Higginson, "on the +whole, a triumphant rather than a sad one," and that is a reasonable +verdict, however difficult to render in the presence of such a tragedy +as her untimely death. + + + + +VI + +HARRIET BEECHER STOWE + + +[Illustration: HARRIET BEECHER STOWE] + +"Is this the little woman who made this great war!" exclaimed +President Lincoln when, in 1862, Mrs. Stowe was introduced to him. +There was but one woman in America to whom this could have been said +without absurdity. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was so conspicuous a factor in +bringing on the war which abolished American slavery that to credit +these results to Mrs. Stowe was not fulsome flattery but graceful +compliment. + +There are two excellent biographies of Mrs. Stowe, one published in +1889, by her son, Rev. Charles E. Stowe, and one, in 1897, by Mrs. +Annie Fields. That work will hardly need to be done again. The object +of this sketch is to study the influences that moulded Mrs. Stowe, to +present the salient features of her career, and, incidentally, to +discover her characteristic qualities. Her fame rests upon her +literary achievements, and these are comparatively well known. Her +literary career can hardly be said to have begun until the age of +forty and, if this were the only interest her life had for us, we +could pass hastily over her youth. It will be found however that her +religious development, begun prematurely with her fourth year and +continued without consideration or discretion until at seventeen she +became a chronic invalid, gives a kind of tragic interest to her +earlier years. Her religious education may not have been unique; it +may have been characteristic of much of the religious life of New +England, but girls set at work upon the problems of their souls at the +age of four have seldom attained the distinction of having their +biographies written, so that one can study their history. + +Harriet, the second daughter and seventh child of Lyman Beecher and +Roxanna Foote, was born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1811. There +were three Mrs. Lyman Beechers of whom Roxanna Foote was the first. +The Footes were Episcopalians, Harriet, sister of Roxanna, being as +Mrs. Stowe says, "the highest of High Churchwomen who in her private +heart did not consider my father an ordained minister." Roxanna, +perhaps not so high-church, held out for two years against Dr. +Beecher's assaults upon her heart and then consented to become his +wife. + +Mrs. Beecher was a refined and cultivated lady who "read all the new +works that were published at that day," numbered painting among her +accomplishments, and whose house "was full of little works of +ingenuity and taste and skill, which had been wrought by her hand: +pictures of birds and flowers, done with minutest skill"; but her +greatest charm was a religious nature full of all gentleness and +sweetness. "In no exigency," says Dr. Beecher, "was she taken by +surprise. She was just there, quiet as an angel above." There seems to +have been but one thing which this saintly woman with an Episcopalian +education could not do to meet the expectations of a Congregational +parish, and that was that "in the weekly female prayer-meeting she +could never lead the devotions"; but from this duty she seems to have +been excused because of her known sensitiveness and timidity. + +Mrs. Beecher died when Harriet was in her fourth year, but she left an +indelible impression upon her family. Her "memory met us everywhere," +says Mrs. Stowe; "when father wished to make an appeal to our hearts +which he knew we could not resist, he spoke of mother." It had been +the mother's prayer that her sons, of whom there were six, should be +ministers, and ministers they all were. One incident Mrs. Stowe +remembered which may be supposed to have set Sunday apart as a day of +exceptional sanctity. It was that "of our all running and dancing out +before her from the nursery to the sitting-room one Sabbath morning +and her pleasant voice saying after us, 'Remember the Sabbath day to +keep it holy.'" Such early religious impressions made upon the mind of +a child of four would have faded in other surroundings, but it will be +seen that Harriet's environment gave no rest to her little soul. + +After the death of her mother, the child was sent to her grandmother +Foote's for a long visit. There she fell to the charge of her aunt +Harriet, than whom, we are told, "a more energetic human being never +undertook the education of a child." According to her views, "little +girls were to be taught to move very gently, to speak softly and +prettily, to say 'Yes ma'am' and 'No ma'am,' never to tear their +clothes, to sew and knit at regular hours, to go to church on Sunday +and make all the responses, and to come home and be catechised. I +remember those catechisings when she used to place my little cousin +Mary and myself bolt upright at her knee while black Dinah and Harvey, +the bound boy, were ranged at a respectful distance behind us.... I +became a proficient in the Church catechism and gave my aunt great +satisfaction by the old-fashioned gravity and steadiness with which I +learned to repeat it." This early training in the catechism and the +responses bore fruit in giving Mrs. Stowe a life-long fondness for the +Episcopal service and ultimately in taking her into the Episcopal +Church, of which during her last thirty years she was a communicant. +Harriet signalized her fifth year by committing to memory twenty-seven +hymns and "two long chapters of the Bible," and even more perhaps, by +accidentally discovering in the attic a discarded volume of the +"Arabian Nights," with which, she says, her fortune was made. It was a +much more suitable child's book, one would think, than the Church +catechism or Watts's hymns. + +At the age of six Harriet passed to the care of the second Mrs. Lyman +Beecher, formerly Harriet Porter, of Portland, Maine, apparently a +lady of great dignity and character. "We felt," says Mrs. Stowe, "a +little in awe of her, as if she were a strange princess rather than +our own mamma; but her voice was very sweet, her ways of speaking and +moving very graceful, and she took us up in her lap and let us play +with her beautiful hands which seemed wonderful things, made of pearl +and ornamented with strange rings." It appears she was a faithful +mother, though a little severe and repressive. Henry Ward Beecher said +of her: "She did the office-work of a mother if ever a mother did"; +she "performed to the uttermost her duties, according to her ability"; +she "was a woman of profound veneration rather than of a warm loving +nature. Therefore her prayer was invariably a prayer of deep yearning +reverence. I remember well the impression which it made on me. There +was a mystic influence about it. A sort of sympathetic hold it had on +me, but still I always felt when I went to prayer, as though I were +going into a crypt, where the sun was not allowed to come; and I +shrunk from it." To complete the portrait of this conscientious lady +who was to have the supervision of Harriet from her sixth year, the +following from a letter of one of the Beecher children is worth +quoting: "Mamma is well and don't laugh any more than she did." +Evidently a rather stern and sobering influence had come into the +Beecher family. + +"In her religion," says Mrs. Stowe, "she was distinguished by a most +unfaltering Christ-worship.... Had it not been that Dr. Payson had +set up and kept before her a tender, human, loving Christ, she would +have been only a conscientious bigot. This image, however, gave +softness and warmth to her religious life, and I have since noticed +how her Christ-enthusiasm has sprung up in the hearts of all her +children." This passage is of peculiar interest as it shows the source +of what Mrs. Stowe loves to call the "Christ-worship" which +characterized the religion of the younger Beechers. Writing at the age +of seventeen, when her soul was tossing between Scylla and Charybdis, +Harriet says: "I feel that I love God,--that is, that I love Christ"; +and in 1876, writing of her brother Henry, she says, "He and I are +Christ-worshippers, adoring him as the Image of the Invisible +God." Her son refers us to the twenty-fourth chapter of the +Minister's Wooing for a complete presentation of this subject "of +Christ-worship." Mrs. Stowe speaks of this belief as a plain departure +from ordinary Trinitarianism, as a kind of heresy which it has +required some courage to hold. The heresy seems to have consisted in +practically dropping the first and third persons in the Godhead and +accepting Christ as the only God we know or need to consider. + +As Mrs. Stowe during her adult life was an invalid, it is interesting +to have Mrs. Beecher's testimony that, on her arrival, she was met by +a lovely family of children and "with heartfelt gratitude," she says, +"I observed how cheerful and healthy they were." When Harriet was ten +years of age, she began to attend the Litchfield Academy and was +recognized as one of its brightest pupils. She especially excelled in +writing compositions and, at the age of twelve, her essay was one of +two or three selected to be read at a school exhibition. After +Harriet's had been read, Dr. Beecher turned to the teacher and asked, +"Who wrote that composition?" "Your daughter, Sir," was the reply. "It +was," says Mrs. Stowe, "the proudest moment of my life." + +"Can the immortality of the soul be proved by the light of Nature?" +was the subject of this juvenile composition, a strange choice for a +girl of twelve summers; but in this family the religious climate was +tropical, and forced development. As might have been expected, she +easily proved that nothing of immortality could be known by the light +of nature. She had been too well instructed to think otherwise. Dr. +Beecher himself had no good opinion of 'the light of nature.' "They +say," said he, "that everybody knows about God naturally. A lie. All +such ideas are by teaching." If Harriet had taken the other side of +her question and argued as every believer tries to to-day, she would +have deserved some credit for originality. Nevertheless the form of +her argument is remarkable for her years, and would not have +dishonored Dr. Beecher's next sermon. This amazing achievement of a +girl of twelve can be read in the Life of Mrs. Stowe by her son. + +From the Litchfield Academy, Harriet was sent to the celebrated Female +Seminary established by her sister Catharine at Hartford, Conn. She +here began the study of Latin and, "at the end of the first year, made +a translation of Ovid in verse which was read at the final exhibition +of the school." It was her ambition to be a poet and she began a play +called 'Cleon,' filling "blank book after blank book with this drama." +Mrs. Fields prints six pages of this poem and the specimens have more +than enough merit to convince one that the author might have attained +distinction as a poet. Her energetic sister Catharine however put an +end to this innocent diversion, saying that she must not waste her +time writing poetry but discipline her mind upon Butler's Analogy. To +enforce compliance, Harriet was assigned to teach the Analogy to a +class of girls as old as herself, "being compelled to master each +chapter just ahead of the class." This occupation, with Latin, French +and Italian, sufficiently protected her from the dissipation of +writing poetry. + +Harriet remained in the Hartford school, as pupil and teacher, from +her thirteenth to her twenty-third year. In her spiritual history, +this was an important period. It may seem that her soul had hitherto +not been neglected but as yet youth and a sunny nature had kept her +from any agonies of Christian experience. Now her time had come. No +one under the care of the stern Puritan, Catharine Beecher, would be +suffered to forget her eternal interests. Both of Mrs. Stowe's +biographers feel the necessity of making us acquainted with this +masterful lady, "whose strong, vigorous mind and tremendous +personality," says Mr. Stowe, "indelibly stamped themselves on the +sensitive, dreamy, poetic nature of her younger sister." + +It was Catharine's distinction to have written, it is claimed, the +best refutation of Edwards on the Will ever published. She was +undoubtedly the most acute and vigorous intellect in the Beecher +family. Like all the members of her remarkable family, she was +intensely religious and, at the period when Harriet passed to her +care, gloomily religious. It could not have been otherwise. She had +been engaged to marry Prof. Alexander Fisher, of Yale College, a young +man of great promise. Unhappily, he was drowned at sea, and she +believed his soul was eternally lost. It is futile to ask why Yale +College should have entrusted a professorship to a man whom the Lord +would send to perdition, or why Miss Beecher should have loved such an +abandoned character; it is enough to say that she loved him and that +she believed his soul to be lost; and was it her fault that she could +not be a cheerful companion to a young girl of thirteen? + +As we have seen, Harriet must not fritter away her time writing plays; +she must study Butler's Analogy. She must also read Baxter's Saints +Rest, than which, says Mrs. Stowe, "no book ever affected me more +powerfully. As I walked the pavements I wished that they might sink +beneath me if only I might find myself in heaven." In this mental +condition she went to her home in Litchfield to spend her vacation. +One dewy fresh Sunday morning of that period stood by itself in her +memory. "I knew," she says, "it was sacramental Sunday, and thought +with sadness that when all the good people should take the bread and +wine I should be left out. I tried hard to think of my sins and count +them up; but what with the birds, the daisies, and the brooks that +rippled by the way, it was impossible." The sermon of Dr. Beecher was +unusually sweet and tender and when he appealed to his hearers to +trust themselves to Jesus, their faithful friend, she says, "I longed +to cry out I will. Then the awful thought came over me that I had +never had any conviction of my sins and consequently could not come to +him." Happily the inspiration came to her that if she needed +conviction of sin and Jesus were such a friend, he would give it to +her; she would trust him for the whole, and she went home illumined +with joy. + +When her father returned, she fell into his arms saying, "Father, I +have given myself to Jesus and he has taken me." "Is it so?" said he. +"Then has a new flower blossomed in the kingdom this day." This is +very sweet and beautiful and it shows that Dr. Beecher had a tender +heart under his Calvinistic theology. "If she could have been let +alone," says her son, "and taught to 'look up and not down, forward +and not back, out and not in,' this religious experience might have +gone on as sweetly and naturally as the opening of a flower in the +gentle rays of the sun. But unfortunately this was not possible at a +time when self-examination was carried to an extreme that was +calculated to drive a nervous and sensitive child well-nigh +distracted. First, even her sister Catharine was afraid that there +might be something wrong in the case of a lamb that had come into the +fold without being first chased all over the lot by the shepherd: +great stress being laid on what was called being under conviction. +Then also the pastor of the First Church in Hartford, a bosom friend +of Dr. Beecher, looked with melancholy and suspicious eyes on this +unusual and doubtful path to heaven." + +Briefly stated, these two spiritual guides put Harriet through a +process which brought her to a sense of sin that must have filled +their hearts with joy. She reached the stage when she wrote to her +brother Edward: "My whole life is one continued struggle; I do nothing +right. I am beset behind and before, and my sins take away all my +happiness." + +Unfortunately for her, it was at this stage of Harriet's religious +experience that Dr. Beecher was called to Boston to stem the rising +tide of Unitarianism, with its easy notions about conviction of sin +and other cardinal elements of a true faith. To be thrown into the +fervors of a crusade was just the experience which Harriet's heated +brain did not need. Her life at this period was divided between +Hartford and Boston, but her heart went with Dr. Beecher to his great +enterprise in Boston, or, as Mrs. Fields says, "This period in Boston +was the time when Harriet felt she drew nearer to her father than at +any other period of her life." + +It will not be necessary to go farther into this controversy than to +show what a cauldron it was for the family of Dr. Beecher. In his +autobiography, Dr. Beecher says, "From the time Unitarianism began to +show itself in this country, it was as fire in my bones." After his +call to Boston, he writes again, "My mind had been heating, heating, +heating. Now I had a chance to strike." The situation that confronted +him in Boston rather inflamed than subdued his spirit. Let Mrs. Stowe +tell the story herself. "Calvinism or orthodoxy," she says, "was the +despised and persecuted form of faith. It was the dethroned royal +family wandering like a permitted mendicant in the city where it once +held high court, and Unitarianism reigned in its stead. All the +literary men of Massachusetts were Unitarians. All the trustees and +professors of Harvard College were Unitarians. All the élite of wealth +and fashion crowded Unitarian churches. The judges on the bench were +Unitarian, giving decisions by which the peculiar features of church +organization, so carefully ordained by the Pilgrim Fathers, had been +nullified. The dominant majority entered at once into possession of +churches and church property, leaving the orthodox minority to go out +into schoolhouses and town halls, and build their churches as best +they could." + +We can hardly suppose that Harriet had read the decision of the court, +or that she deemed it necessary; she knew it was wrong by instinct, +and the iron entered her soul. The facts appear to have been as +follows: The old parishes in New England included a given territory +like a school district or a voting precinct. Members of a given +parish, if they were communicants, formed themselves into a "church" +which was the church of that parish. The court decided that this +church always remained the church of that parish. Members might +withdraw, but they withdrew as individuals. They could not withdraw +the church, not even if they constituted a majority. + +The correctness of this decision does not concern us here; it is +enough that Dr. Beecher thought it wrong and that Harriet thought it +wrong. "The effect of all this," she says, "upon my father's mind was +to keep him at a white heat of enthusiasm. His family prayers at this +period, departing from the customary forms of unexcited hours, became +often upheavings of passionate emotion, such as I shall never forget. +'Come, Lord Jesus,' he would say, 'here where the bones of the fathers +rest, here where the crown has been torn from thy brow, come and +recall thy wandering children. Behold thy flock scattered upon the +mountain--these sheep, what have they done! Gather them, gather them, +O good shepherd, for their feet stumble upon the dark mountains.'" + +The fierce heat of this period was too much for a tender plant like +Harriet. For her state of mind, even Catharine thought the Boston home +life was not entirely suitable. It would be better for her in +Hartford. "Harriet will have young society here which she cannot have +at home, and I think cheerful and amusing friends will do much for +her." Catharine had received a letter from Harriet which, she says, +"made me feel uneasy," as well it might. Harriet had written her +sister: "I don't know as I am fit for anything, and I have thought +that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my +faults perish in the grave.... Sometimes I could not sleep, and have +groaned and cried till midnight, while in the daytime I tried to +appear cheerful, and succeeded so well that papa reproved me for +laughing so much." Life was too serious to permit even an affectation +of gaiety. "The atmosphere of that period," says Mrs. Field, "and the +terrible arguments of her father and of her sister Catharine were +sometimes more than she could endure." Her brother Edward was helpful +and comforting. She thanks him for helping her solve some of her +problems, but the situation was critical: "I feared that if you left +me thus I might return to the same dark, desolate state in which I had +been all summer. I felt that my immortal interest, my happiness for +both worlds, was depending on the turn my feelings might take." + +Dr. Beecher was too much absorbed with his mission to observe what was +going on in his own family, unless there chanced to be an unexpected +outburst of gaiety. "Every leisure hour was beset by people who came +with earnest intention to express to him those various phases of +weary, restless wandering desire proper to an earnest people whose +traditional faith has been broken up.... Inquirers were constantly +coming with every imaginable theological problem ... he was to be seen +all day talking with whoever would talk ... till an hour or two before +the time (of service), when he would rush up to his study; ... just as +the last stroke of the bell was dying away, he would emerge from the +study with his coat very much awry, come down stairs like a hurricane, +stand impatiently protesting while female hands that ever lay in wait +adjusted his cravat and settled his collar ... and hooking wife or +daughter like a satchel on his arm, away he would start on such a race +through the streets as left neither brain nor breath till the church +was gained." Such, very much abbreviated, is Mrs. Stowe's portrait of +her father at this period. It is a good example of her power of +delineation; but what a life was this for a half distracted girl like +Harriet! Much better for her would have been the old serene, peaceful, +quiet life of Litchfield. + +She had several kinds of religious trouble. It troubled her that in +the book of Job, God should seem "to have stripped a dependent +creature of all that renders life desirable, and then to have answered +his complaints from the whirlwind, and, instead of showing mercy and +pity, to have overwhelmed him with a display of his power and +justice." It troubled her that when she allowed herself to take a +milder view of deity, "I feel," she says, "less fear of God and, in +view of sin, I feel only a sensation of grief." This was an alarming +decline. It troubled her again that she loved literature, whereas she +ought only to care for religion. She writes to Edward: "You speak of +your predilections for literature being a snare to you. I have found +it so myself." Evidently, as she has before said, she was beset behind +and before. What was perhaps worst of all, the heavens seemed closed +to her. Calvinism was pure agnosticism; and she had been educated a +Calvinist. There was no 'imminent God,' in all and through all, for +Calvinism; that came in with Transcendentalism, a form of thought +which never seems to have touched Mrs. Stowe. She seems always to +have felt, as at this period she writes Edward, that "still, after +all, God is a being afar off." Nevertheless, there was Christ, but +Christ at this period was also afar off: "I feel that I love +God,--that is that I love Christ,--that I find happiness in it, and +yet it is not that kind of comfort which would arise from free +communication of my wants and sorrows to a friend. I sometimes wish +that the Savior were visibly present in this world, that I might go to +him for a solution of some of my difficulties." + +It will be seen from this passage that Harriet's storm-tossed soul was +settling down upon Christ as the nearest approach to God one could +gain in the darkness, and with this she taught herself to be content. +"So, after four years of struggling and suffering," writes her son, +"she returns to the place where she started from as a child of +thirteen. It has been like watching a ship with straining masts and +storm-beaten sails, buffeted by the waves, making for the harbor, and +coming at last to quiet anchorage." One cannot help reflecting how +different would have been her experience in the household of Dr. +Channing; but Dr. Beecher would sooner have trusted her in a den of +wolves. + +Harriet was seventeen years old when, mentally, she reached her quiet +anchorage but, physically as might be expected, it was with a +constitution undermined and with health broken. "She had not grown to +be a strong woman," says Mrs. Fields; "the apparently healthy and +hearty child had been suffered to think and feel, to study and starve +(as we say), starve for relaxation, until she became a woman of much +suffering and many inadequacies of physical life." A year or two later +Harriet herself writes, "This inner world of mine has become worn out +and untenable," and again, "About half my time I am scarcely alive.... +I have everything but good health.... Thought, intense emotional +thought, has been my disease." + +At the end of six restless and stormy years, in 1832, Dr. Beecher +resigned his Boston pastorate to accept the presidency of Lane +Theological Seminary at Cincinnati, Ohio, Catharine and Harriet +accompanying the family with the purpose of establishing a high grade +school for young women. The plan was successfully carried out, and the +"Western Female Institute" marked a new stage in education west of the +Alleghenies. One of Harriet's early achievements at Cincinnati was the +publication of a text-book in geography, her first attempt at +authorship. She made her entry into the field of imaginative +literature by gaining a prize of $50 for a story printed in _The +Western Magazine_. + +Her connection with the "Western Female Institute" was brief, and the +prosecution of a literary career was postponed, by her marriage in +1836, with Prof. Calvin E. Stowe; or, as she announces this momentous +event: "about half an hour more and your old friend, schoolmate, +sister, etc., will cease to be Hattie Beecher and change to nobody +knows who." + +The married life of Mrs. Stowe covered a period of fifty years and was +a conspicuously happy one. Prof. Stowe, who seemed so much like a myth +to the general public, was a man of great learning and keen +intelligence, unimaginative as he says himself, but richly endowed +with "a certain broad humor and drollery." His son tells us that he +was "an inimitable mimic and story-teller. No small proportion of Mrs. +Stowe's success as a literary woman is to be attributed to him." The +Sam Lawson stories are said to be a little more his than hers, being +"told as they came from Mr. Stowe's lips with little or no +alteration." For her scholarly husband, Mrs. Stowe had the highest +appreciation and the prettiest way of expressing it: "If you were not +already my dearly loved husband," she writes him, "I should certainly +fall in love with you." Prof. Stowe could also write a love-letter: +"There is no woman like you in this wide world. Who else has so much +talent with so little self-conceit; so much reputation with so little +affectation; so much literature with so little nonsense; so much +enterprise with so little extravagance; so much tongue with so little +scold; so much sweetness with so little softness; so much of so many +things and so little of so many other things." If a man's wife is to +have her biography written, he will not be sorry that he has sent her +some effusive love-letters. + +Fourteen years of Mrs. Stowe's beautiful married life were spent in +Cincinnati, with many vicissitudes of ill-health, some poverty, and +the birth of six children, three sons and three daughters. One can get +some idea both of the happiness and the hardship of that life from her +letters. In 1843, seven years after marriage, she writes, "Our straits +for money this year are unparalleled even in our annals. Even our +bright and cheery neighbor Allen begins to look blue, and says $600 is +the very most we can hope to collect of our salary, once $1,200." +Again she writes, "I am already half sick from confinement to the +house and overwork. If I should sew every day for a month to come I +should not be able to accomplish half of what is to be done." There +were trials enough during this period, but her severest affliction +came in its last year, in the loss of an infant son by cholera. That +was in 1849, when Cincinnati was devastated; when during the months of +June, July and August more than nine thousand persons died of cholera +within three miles of her house, and among them she says, "My Charley, +my beautiful, loving, gladsome baby, so loving, so sweet, so full of +life and hope and strength." + +In these years, Mrs. Stowe's life was too full of domestic care to +permit many excursions into the field of literature. In 1842, a +collection of sketches was published by the Harpers under the title of +the "Mayflower." Occasionally she contributed a bright little story to +a monthly or an annual. An amusing account is given of the writing of +one of these stories, by a lady who volunteered to serve as amanuensis +while Mrs. Stowe dictated, and at the same time supervised a new girl +in the kitchen: "You may now write," said Mrs. Stowe, "'Her lover +wept with her, nor dared he again touch the point so sacredly +guarded--(Mina, roll that crust a little thinner). He spoke in +soothing tones.--(Mina, poke the coals).'" + +These literary efforts, produced under difficulties, inspired Prof. +Stowe with great confidence in her genius. He wrote her in 1842, "My +dear, you must be a literary woman. It is so written in the book of +fate." Again he writes, "God has written it in his book that you must +be a literary woman, and who are we that we should contend against +God! You must therefore make all your calculations to spend the rest +of your life with your pen." Nevertheless the next eight years pass as +the last six have passed without apparently bringing the dream of a +literary career nearer fulfilment. With a few strokes of the pen, Mrs. +Stowe draws a picture of her life at this period: "I was married when +I was twenty-five years old to a man rich in Greek and Hebrew and, +alas, rich in nothing else.... During long years of struggling with +poverty and sickness, and a hot, debilitating climate, my children +grew up around me. The nursery and the kitchen were my principal +fields of labor. Some of my friends, pitying my trials, copied and +sent a number of little sketches from my pen to certain liberally +paying annuals, with my name. With the first money that I earned in +this way I bought a feather bed! for as I had married into poverty and +without a dowry, and as my husband had only a large library of books +and a good deal of learning, the bed and pillows were thought the most +profitable investment. After this I thought that I had discovered the +philosopher's stone. So when a new carpet or mattress was going to be +needed, or when at the close of the year it began to be evident that +my family accounts, like poor Dora's, 'wouldn't add up,' then I used +to say to my faithful friend and factotum Anna, who shared all my joys +and sorrows, 'Now, if you will keep the babies and attend to things in +the house for a day, I'll write a piece and then we'll be out of the +scrape.' So I became an author,--very modest I do assure you." + +The hardships and privations of Mrs. Stowe's residence in Cincinnati +were more than compensated to her by the opportunity it afforded for +intimate acquaintance with the negro character and personal +observation of the institution of slavery. Only the breadth of the +Ohio river separated her from Kentucky, a slave State. While yet a +teacher in the Female Institute, she spent a vacation upon a Kentucky +estate, afterward graphically described in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' as Col. +Shelby's plantation. A companion upon this visit said, "Harriet did +not seem to notice anything in particular that happened.... +Afterwards, in reading 'Uncle Tom,' I recognized scene after scene of +that visit portrayed with the most minute fidelity." A dozen years +before there were any similar demonstrations in Boston, she witnessed +in 1838, proslavery riots in Cincinnati when Birney's Abolition press +was wrecked and when Henry Ward Beecher, then a young Cincinnati +editor, went armed to and from his office. She had had in her service +a slave girl whose master was searching the city for her, and whose +rescue had been effected by Prof. Stowe and Henry Ward Beecher who, +"both armed, drove the fugitive, in a covered wagon, by night, by +unfrequented roads, twelve miles back into the country, and left her +in safety." This incident was the basis of "the fugitive's escape from +Tom Loker and Marks in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.'" + +Lane Theological Seminary, in which Prof. Stowe held a chair, had, it +is said, "become a hot-bed of abolition." Partly for protection, a +colony of negroes had settled about the seminary, and these families, +says Mrs. Stowe, "became my favorite resort in cases of emergency. If +anyone wishes to have a black face look handsome, let them be left as +I have been, in feeble health, in oppressive hot weather, with a sick +baby in arms, and two other ones in the nursery, and not a servant in +the whole house to do a turn." "Time would fail me," writes Mrs. +Stowe, "to tell you all that I learned incidentally of the slave +system in the history of various slaves who came into my family, and +of the underground railroad which, I may say, ran through our house." + +A New England education alone would not have given Mrs. Stowe the +material to write the story of "Uncle Tom." A youth passed on a +Southern plantation would have made her callous and indifferent, as it +did so many tender-hearted women. A New England woman of genius, +educated in New England traditions, was providentially transferred to +the heated border line between freedom and slavery and, during +eighteen years, made to hear a thousand authentic incidents of the +patriarchal system from the victims themselves. Then "Uncle Tom's +Cabin" could be written. Perhaps one other element of preparation +ought to be mentioned since Mrs. Stowe laid stress upon it herself. +The woman who should write "Uncle Tom's Cabin" needed to be a mother +who had known what it is to have a child snatched from her arms +irrevocably and without a moment's notice. It was at her baby's "dying +bed and at his grave that I learned," she says, "what a poor slave +mother may feel when her child is torn away from her. In those depths +of sorrow which seemed to me immeasurable, it was my only prayer to +God that such anguish might not be suffered in vain.... I allude to +this because I have often felt that much that is in that book ('Uncle +Tom') had its roots in the awful scenes and bitter sorrows of that +summer." + +In 1850, this western life, with its mixture of sweet and bitter +waters, came to an end. The climate of Cincinnati was unfavorable to +the health of both Mr. and Mrs. Stowe, and Mr. Stowe accepted a +professorship in Bowdoin College, at the small salary of $1,000 a +year, declining at the same time an offer from New York city of +$2,300. Why he accepted the smaller salary is not said. Certainly it +assured him his old felicity, his Master's blessing upon the poor. The +situation, however, was better than it seems, as Mrs. Stowe had +written enough to have confidence in her pen, and she purposed to +make the family income at least $1,700 by her writings. She +accomplished much more than that as we shall presently see. + +From the car window, as one passes through Brunswick, Maine, he can +see the house in which Mrs. Stowe passed the three following very +happy years, in which her seventh child was born, a son who lived to +be her biographer, and in which she wrote "Uncle Tom's Cabin." It will +be remembered that the year 1850 was made memorable by the enactment +of the Fugitive Slave Law. How the attempted execution of this law +affected Mrs. Stowe can be anticipated. "To me," she says, "it is +incredible, amazing, mournful. I feel as if I should be willing to +sink with it, were all this sin and misery to sink in the sea.... I +sobbed, aloud in one pew and Mrs. Judge Reeves in another." + +In this mood, Mrs. Stowe received a letter from Mrs. Edward Beecher +saying, "Hattie, if I could use a pen as you can, I would write +something to make this nation feel what an accursed thing slavery is." +Her children remember that at the reading of this letter, Mrs. Stowe +rose from her chair, crushing the letter in her hand, and said, "I +will write something,--I will if I live." The fulfilment of this vow +was "Uncle Tom's Cabin." + +This story was begun in _The National Era_, on June 5, 1851; it was +announced to run through three months and it occupied ten. "I could +not control the story," said Mrs. Stowe; "it wrote itself." Again, she +said, "I the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin!' No, indeed. The Lord +himself wrote it, and I was but the humblest instrument in his hand." +It has been said that "'Uncle Tom's Cabin' made the crack of the +slave-driver's whip and the cries of the tortured blacks ring in every +household in the land, till human hearts could bear it no longer," and +that it "made the enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law an +impossibility." + +It is possible to discuss the question whether "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is +a work of art, just as it is possible to discuss whether the Sermon on +the Mount is a work of art, but not whether the story was effective, +not whether it hit the mark and accomplished its purpose. Mrs. Stowe's +story is not so much one story as a dozen; in the discriminating +language of her son, it is "a series of pictures," and who will deny +that the scenes are skilfully portrayed! + +Mrs. Stowe did not know that she had made her fortune; she had not +written for money; nevertheless when the story was republished in a +volume, her ten per cent. of the profits brought her $10,000 in four +months. It went to its third edition in ten days, and one hundred and +twenty editions, or more than 300,000 copies were sold in this country +within one year. This astounding popularity was exceeded in Great +Britain. Not being protected by copyright, eighteen publishing houses +issued editions varying from 6d to 15s a copy, and in twelve months, +more than a million and a half of copies had been sold in the British +dominions. The book was also translated and published in nineteen +European languages. It was dramatized and brought out in New York in +1852, and, a year later it was running still. "Everybody goes," it was +said, "night after night and nothing can stop it." In London, in 1852, +it was the attraction at two theatres. + +What the public thought of the story is evident, nor did competent +judges dissent. Longfellow said: "It is one of the greatest triumphs +recorded in literary history, to say nothing of the higher triumph of +its moral effect." George Sand said: "Mrs. Stowe is all instinct; it +is the very reason that she appears to some to have no talent.... I +cannot say that she has talent as one understands it in the world of +letters, but she has genius as humanity feels the need of it,--the +genius of goodness, not that of the man of letters, but of the +saint.... In matters of art, there is but one rule, to paint and to +move." I give but a paragraph of a paper which Senator Sumner called +"a most remarkable tribute, such as was hardly ever offered by such a +genius to any living mortal." + +Apologists for the slave system have declared that "Uncle Tom's Cabin" +is a libel upon the system. One must do that before he can begin his +apology; but the remarkable fact is that not even in the South was the +libel detected at the first. That was an after-thought. Whittier knew +a lady who read the story "to some twenty young ladies, daughters of +slave-holders, near New Orleans and amid the scenes described in it, +and they with one accord pronounced it true." It was not till the sale +of the book had run to over 100,000 copies that a reaction set in and +then, strange to say, the note of warning was sounded by that +infallible authority upon American affairs, the London Times. + +In 1852, the year following the publication of "Uncle Tom" Prof. Stowe +accepted a chair in the Theological Seminary at Andover, and that +village became the home of the family during the ten following happy +years. In 1853, Mr. and Mrs. Stowe went to England upon the invitation +of Anti-Slavery friends who guaranteed and considerably overpaid the +expenses of the trip. "Should Mrs. Stowe conclude to visit Europe," +wrote Senator Sumner, "she will have a triumph." The prediction was +fulfilled. At Liverpool she is met by friends and breakfasted with a +little company of thirty or forty people; at Glasgow, she drinks tea +with two thousand; at Edinburgh there was "another great tea party," +and she was presented with a "national penny offering consisting of a +thousand golden sovereigns on a magnificent silver salver." She had +the Highlands yet to see as the guest of the Duke of Argyll, not to +mention London and Paris. After five months, she sailed from Liverpool +on her return, and is it any wonder that she wrote, "Almost sadly as a +child might leave its home, I left the shores of kind, strong Old +England, the mother of us all!" + +In 1856, Mrs. Stowe visited Europe a second time for the purpose of +securing an English copyright upon "Dred," having learned something of +business by her experience with "Uncle Tom." It will be interesting +to know that in England "Dred" was considered the better story, that +100,000 copies of it were sold there in four weeks, and that her +English publisher issued it in editions of 125,000 copies each. "After +that," writes Mrs. Stowe, "who cares what the critics say?" + +She was abroad nearly a year, visiting France, Switzerland, and Italy, +and returned in June, 1857, to experience another sad bereavement. Her +son Henry was a Freshman in Dartmouth college and, while bathing in +the Connecticut river, he was drowned. This was a severe trial to Mrs. +Stowe and the more so because, whatever her religion may have done for +her, the theology in which she had been educated gave no comfort to +her soul. "Distressing doubts as to Henry's spiritual state were +rudely thrust upon my soul." These doubts she was able to master at +least temporarily, by assuming that they were temptations of the +devil, but three years later in Florence, on a third voyage to Europe, +she wrote her husband, in reply to his allusions to Henry, "Since I +have been in Florence, I have been distressed by inexpressible +yearnings for him,--such sighings and outreachings, with a sense of +utter darkness and separation, not only from him but from all +spiritual communion with my God." It will be interesting to know that +relief was brought her in this painful crisis, by the ministrations of +spiritualism. + +Mrs. Stowe returned in 1860 from her third visit to Europe to find the +country hovering upon the verge of Civil War. The war brought her +another sore bereavement. At the battle of Gettysburg, her son, Capt. +Frederick Stowe, was struck by the fragment of a shell and, though the +wound healed, he never really recovered. His end was sufficiently +tragic. With the hope of improving his health by a long sea voyage, he +sailed from New York for San Francisco by way of Cape Horn. That he +reached San Francisco in safety, writes his brother, "is known: but +that is all. No word from him or concerning him has ever reached the +loving hearts that have waited so anxiously for it, and of his +ultimate fate nothing is known." Whatever may have been the "spiritual +state" of this son, Mrs. Stowe had now somewhat modernized her +theology and could say, "An endless infliction for past sins was once +the doctrine that we now generally reject.... Of one thing I am +sure,--probation does not end with this life." To stamp out that very +heresy had been no small part of Dr. Beecher's mission in Boston. + +In 1863, Prof. Stowe having resigned his chair in Andover, Mrs. Stowe +removed with her family to Hartford where for the remaining +thirty-three years of her life, she made her summer home. The winter +of 1866, she spent with her husband in Florida and, the year +following, she bought in that semi-tropical state an orange orchard, +the fruit of which the year previous had "brought $2,000 as sold at +the wharf." Here for sixteen winters Mr. and Mrs. Stowe made their +home, until her "poor rabbi," as she affectionately calls him, became +too feeble to bear the long journey from Hartford. There she built a +small Episcopal church and she invites her brother Charles to become +an Episcopalian and come and be her minister. + +Her son says that "Mrs. Stowe had some years before this joined the +Episcopal church for the purpose of attending the same communion as +her daughters." That she desired to attend the same communion as her +daughters does not seem a sufficient reason for leaving the communion +of her husband. Certainly, she had other reasons. From her fourth +year, she had known the service and, as read by her grandmother at +that time, its prayers "had a different effect upon me," she says, +"from any other prayers I heard in early life." Moreover, she had a +mission to the negro race and believed that the Episcopal service is +specially adapted to their needs: "If my tasks and feelings did not +incline me toward the Church," she writes her brother, "I should still +choose it as the best system for training immature minds such as those +of our negroes. The system was composed with reference to the wants of +the laboring class of England, at a time when they were as ignorant as +our negroes are now." + +The picture of her southern life which she gives in a letter to George +Eliot, is very attractive, her husband "sitting on the veranda reading +all day," but during these years, Mrs. Stowe must have spent much of +her own time at a writing-table since, for the ten years after 1867, +when the Florida life began, she published a volume, sometimes two +volumes, a year. In 1872, she was tempted by the Boston Lecture Bureau +to give readings from her own works in the principal cities of New +England, and the following year, the course was repeated in the cities +of the West. Her audiences were to her amazing. "And how they do +laugh! We get into regular gales," she writes her lonely husband at +home. + +Her seventieth birthday was celebrated at a gathering of two hundred +of the leading literary men and women of the land, at the residence of +Ex-Governor Claflin in Newton. There were poems by Whittier, Dr. +Holmes, J. T. Trowbridge, Mrs. Whitney, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Mrs. +Fields, and others, many excellent speeches, and finally a speech by +the little woman herself. This garden party, says her son, was the +last public appearance of Mrs. Stowe. + +Her "rabbi" left her a widow in 1886, dying at the age of 84. Mrs. +Stowe survived him ten years, dying in 1896, at the age of 85, leaving +behind her a name loved and honored upon two continents. + + + + +VII + +LOUISA MAY ALCOTT + + +[Illustration: LOUISA MAY ALCOTT] + +Miss Alcott has been called, perhaps truly, the most popular +story-teller for children, in her generation. Like those elect souls +whom the apostle saw arrayed in white robes, she came up through great +tribulation, paying dearly in labor and privation for her successes, +but one must pronounce her life happy and fortunate, since she lived +to enjoy her fame and fortune twenty years, to witness the sale of a +million volumes of her writings, to receive more than two hundred +thousand dollars from her publishers, and thereby to accomplish the +great purpose upon which as a girl she had set her heart, which was, +to see her father and mother comfortable in their declining years. + +Successful as Miss Alcott was as a writer, she was greater as a woman, +and the story of her life is as interesting,--as full of tragedy and +comedy,--as the careers of her heroes and heroines. In fact, we have +reason to believe that the adventures of her characters are often not +so much invented as remembered, the pranks and frolics of her boys +and girls being episodes from her own youthful experience. In the +preface to "Little Women," the most charming of her books, she tells +us herself that the most improbable incidents are the least imaginary. +The happy girlhood which she portrays was her own, in spite of +forbidding conditions. The struggle in which her cheerful nature +extorted happiness from unwilling fortune, gives a dramatic interest +to her youthful experiences, as her literary disappointments and +successes do to the years of her maturity. + +Miss Alcott inherited a name which her father's genius had made known +on both sides of the sea, before her own made it famous in a hundred +thousand households. Alcott is a derivative from Alcocke, the name by +which Mr. Alcott himself was known in his boyhood. John Alcocke, born +in New Haven, Ct., married Mary, daughter of Rev. Abraham Pierson, +first president of Yale College. He was a man of considerable fortune +and left 1,200 acres of land to his six children, one of whom was +Capt. John Alcocke, a man of some distinction in the colonial service. +Joseph Chatfield Alcocke, son of Capt. John, married Anna, sister of +Rev. Tillotson Bronson, D.D. Of this marriage, Amos Bronson Alcott, +father of Louisa, was born, Nov. 29, 1799. The fortunes of Joseph +Chatfield Alcocke were those of other small farmers of the period, but +Mrs. Alcocke could not forget that she was the sister of a college +graduate, and it was worth something to her son to know that he was +descended from the president of a college. The mother and son early +settled it that the boy should be a scholar, and the father loyally +furthered their ambitions, borrowing of his acquaintances such books +as he discovered and bringing them home for the delectation of his +studious son. At the age of thirteen, Bronson became a pupil in a +private school kept by his uncle, Dr. Bronson, and at eighteen, he set +out for Virginia with the secret purpose of teaching if opportunity +offered, at the same time taking along a peddler's trunk out of which +to turn an honest penny and pay the expenses of his journey. +Circumstances did not favor his becoming a Virginia teacher, but +between his eighteenth and twenty-third years, he made several +expeditions into the Southern States as a Yankee peddler, with rather +negative financial results, but with much enlargement of his +information and improvement of his rustic manners. Mr. Alcott was +rather distinguished for his high-bred manners and, on a visit to +England, there is an amusing incident of his having been mistaken for +some member of the titled aristocracy. + +At the age of twenty-five, Mr. Alcott began his career as a teacher in +an Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Ct. His family were Episcopalians, +and he had been confirmed at sixteen. Since the age of eighteen when +he started for Virginia as a candidate for a school, he had been +theorizing upon the art of teaching and had thought out many of the +principles of what, a century later, began to be called the "New +Education." He undertook, perhaps too rapidly, to apply his theories +in the conduct of the Cheshire Academy. His experiments occasioned a +vast amount of controversy, in which Connecticut conservatism gained a +victory, and Mr. Alcott retired from the school at the end of two +years' service. His results however had been sufficient to convince +him of the soundness of his principles, and to launch him upon the +troubled career of educational reform. + +Among a few intelligent friends and sympathizers who rallied to Mr. +Alcott's side in this controversy, was Rev. Samuel J. May, a Unitarian +minister then of Brooklyn, Ct., at whose house, in 1827, Mr. Alcott +met Mr. May's sister Abbie, who shared fully her brother's enthusiasm +for the new education and its persecuted apostle. Miss May began her +relations with Mr. Alcott as his admirer and champion, a dangerous +part for an enthusiastic young lady to play, as the sequel proved +when, three years later, she became Mrs. Alcott. + +Mrs. Alcott was the daughter of a Boston merchant, Col. Joseph May, +and his wife, Dorothy Sewall, daughter of Samuel Sewall and his wife, +Elizabeth Quincy, sister of Dorothy Quincy, wife of John Hancock. By +the marriage of Joseph May and Dorothy Sewall, two very distinguished +lines of ancestry had been united. Under her father's roof, Mrs. +Alcott had enjoyed every comfort and the best of social advantages. +She was tall, had a fine physique, good intellect, warm affections, +and generous sympathies, but it would have astonished her to have been +told that she was bringing to the marriage altar more than she +received; and however much it may have cost her to be the wife of an +unworldly idealist, it was precisely his unworldly idealism that first +won her admiration and then gained her heart. + +Life may have been harder for Mrs. Alcott than she anticipated, but +she knew very well that she was abjuring riches. Two years before her +marriage, her brother had written her: "Mr. Alcott's mind and heart +are so much occupied with other things that poverty and riches do not +seem to concern him much." She had known Mr. Alcott three years and +had enjoyed ample opportunity to make this observation herself. +Indeed, two months after her marriage, she wrote her brother, "My +husband is the perfect personification of modesty and moderation. I am +not sure that we shall not blush into obscurity and contemplate into +starvation." That she had not repented of her choice a year later, may +be judged from a letter to her brother on the first anniversary of her +marriage: "It has been an eventful year,--a year of trial, of +happiness, of improvement. I can wish no better fate to any sister of +my sex than has attended me since my entrance into the conjugal +state." + +That Mr. Alcott, then in his young manhood, had qualities which, for a +young lady of refinement and culture, would compensate for many +privations is evident. Whether he was one of the great men of his +generation or not, there is no doubt he seemed so. When, in 1837, Dr. +Bartol came to Boston, Mr. Emerson asked him whom he knew in the +city, and said: "There is but one man, Mr. Alcott." Dr. Bartol seems +to have come to much the same opinion. He says: "Alcott belonged to +the Christ class: his manners were the most gentle and gracious, under +all fair or unfair provocation, I ever beheld; he had a rare inborn +piety and a god-like incapacity in the purity of his eyes to behold +iniquity." + +These qualities were not visible to the public and have no commercial +value, but that Mr. Alcott had them is confirmed by the beautiful +domestic life of the Alcotts, by the unabated love and devotion of +Mrs. Alcott to her husband in all trials, and the always high and +always loyal appreciation with which Louisa speaks of her father, even +when perhaps smiling at his innocent illusions. The character of Mr. +Alcott is an important element in the life of Louisa because she was +his daughter, and because, being unmarried, her life and fortunes were +his, or those of the Alcott family. She had no individual existence. + +Two years after the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Alcott, Louisa, their +second daughter was born in Germantown, Pa., where Mr. Alcott was in +charge of a school belonging to the Society of Friends, or Quakers. +The date was November 29, 1832, also Mr. Alcott's birthday, always +observed as a double festival in the family. In 1834, Mr. Alcott +opened his celebrated school in Masonic Temple in Boston, Mass., under +the auspices of Dr. Channing and with the assured patronage of some of +the most cultivated and influential families in the city. As +assistants in this school, he had first Miss Sophia Peabody afterward +Mrs. Hawthorne, her sister Miss Elizabeth Peabody, and finally +Margaret Fuller. + +The school opened prosperously and achieved remarkable success until, +in 1837, the publication of Mr. Alcott's "Conversations on the +Gospels" shocked the piety of Boston newspapers, whose persistent and +virulent attacks frightened the public and caused the withdrawal of +two-thirds of the pupils. Mr. Emerson came to Mr. Alcott's defence, +saying: "He is making an experiment in which all the friends of +education are interested," and asking, "whether it be wise or just to +add to the anxieties of this enterprise a public clamor against some +detached sentences of a book which, on the whole, is pervaded by +original thought and sincere piety." In a private note, Mr. Emerson +urged Mr. Alcott to give up his school, as the people of Boston were +not worthy of him. Mr. Alcott had spent more than the income of the +school in its equipment, creating debts which Louisa afterward paid; +all his educational ideals were at stake, and he could not accept +defeat easily. However, in 1839, a colored girl was admitted to the +school, and all his pupils were withdrawn, except the little negress +and four whites, three of whom were his own daughters. So ended the +Temple school. The event was very fateful for the Alcott family, but, +much as it concerned Mrs. Alcott, there can be no doubt she much +preferred that the school should end thus, than that Mr. Alcott should +yield to public clamor on either of the issues which wrecked the +enterprise. + +Louisa was seven years old when this misfortune occurred which shaped +the rest of her life, fixing the straitened circumstances in which she +was to pass her youth and preparing the burdens which ultimately were +to be lifted by her facile pen. Happily the little Alcotts, of whom +there were three, were too young to feel the perplexities that +harassed their parents and their early years could hardly have been +passed more pleasantly or profitably if they had been the daughters of +millionaires. The family lived very comfortably amidst a fine circle +of relatives and friends in Boston, preached and practised a +vegetarian gospel,--rice without sugar and graham meal without butter +or molasses,--monotonous but wholesome, spent their summers with +friends at Scituate and, in town or country, partly owing to the +principles of the new education, partly to the preoccupation of the +parents, the children of the family were left in large measure to the +teaching of nature and their own experience. + +Very abundant moral instruction there was in this apostolic family, +both by example and precept, but the young disciples were expected to +make their own application of the principles. The result, in the case +of Louisa, was to develop a girl of very enterprising and adventurous +character, who might have been mistaken for a boy from her sun-burned +face, vigorous health, and abounding animal spirits. It was her pride +to drive her hoop around the Common before breakfast and she tells us +that she admitted to her social circle no girl who could not climb a +tree and no boy whom she had not beaten in a race. Her autobiography +of this period, she has given us, very thinly disguised, in "Poppy's +Pranks." + +Meanwhile, her mental faculties were not neglected. Mr. Alcott began +the education of his children, in a kindergarten way, almost in their +infancy, and before his Boston school closed, Louisa had two or three +years in it as a pupil. What his method of education could do with a +child of eight years is shown by a poem written by Louisa at that age. +The family were then living in Concord, in the house which, in "Little +Women," is celebrated as "Meg's first home." One early Spring day, +Louisa found in the garden a robin, chilled and famished, and wrote +these lines: + + "Welcome, welcome, little stranger, + Fear no harm, and fear no danger; + We are glad to see you here, + For you sing, Sweet Spring is near. + + Now the white snow melts away; + Now the flowers blossom gay: + Come, dear bird, and build your nest, + For we love our robin best." + +It will be remembered that this literary faculty, unusual at the age +of eight, had been attained by a girl in the physical condition of an +athlete, who could climb a tree like a squirrel. + +Readers of "Little Women" will remember what a child's paradise "Meg's +first home" was, with its garden full of fruit-trees and shade, and +its old empty barn which the children alternately turned into a +drawing-room for company, a gymnasium for romps, and a theatre for +dramatic performances. "There," says Louisa, "we dramatized the fairy +tales in great style," Jack the Giant-killer and Cinderella being +favorites, the passion for the stage which came near making Louisa an +actress, as also her sister Anna, getting early development. + +The fun and frolic of these days were the more enjoyed because they +alternated with regular duties, with lessons in housework with the +mother and language lessons with the father, for which he now had +abundant leisure. As he had no other pupils, he could try all his +educational experiments in his own family. Among other exercises, the +children were required to keep a journal, to write in it regularly, +and to submit it to the examination and criticism of the parents. +Facility in writing thus became an early acquisition. It was furthered +by a pretty habit which Mrs. Alcott had of keeping up a little +correspondence with her children, writing little notes to them when +she had anything to say in the way of reproof, correction, or +instruction, receiving their confessions, repentance, and good +resolutions by the next mail. + +Some of these maternal letters are very tender and beautiful. One to +Louisa at the age of eleven, enclosed a picture of a frail mother +cared for by a faithful daughter, and says, "I have always liked it +very much, for I imagined that you might be just such an industrious +daughter and I such a feeble and loving mother, looking to your labor +for my daily bread." There was prophecy in this and there was more +prophecy in the lines with which Louisa replied: + + "I hope that soon, dear mother, + You and I may be + In the quiet room my fancy + Has so often made for thee,-- + + The pleasant, sunny chamber, + The cushioned easy-chair, + The book laid for your reading, + The vase of flowers fair; + + The desk beside the window + When the sun shines warm and bright, + And there in ease and quiet, + The promised book you write. + + While I sit close beside you, + Content at last to see + That you can rest, dear mother, + And I can cherish thee." + +The versification is still juvenile, but there is no fault in the +sentiment, and Miss Alcott, in a later note, says, "The dream came +true, and for the last ten years of her life, Marmee sat in peace with +every wish granted." + +Evidently Louisa had begun to feel the pinch of the family +circumstances. The income was of the slenderest. Sometimes Mr. Alcott +gave a lecture or "conversation" and received a few dollars; sometimes +he did a day's farm work for a neighbor; now and then Mr. Emerson +called and clandestinely left a bank note, and many valuable packages +came out from relatives in Boston; but frugal housekeeping was the +chief asset of the family. Discouraging as the outlook was, some +bitter experience might have been escaped if the Alcotts had remained +in Concord, pursuing their unambitious career. It was, however, the +era of social experiments in New England. The famous Brook Farm +community was then in the third year of its existence, and it was +impossible that Mr. Alcott should not sympathize with this effort to +ease the burden of life, and wish to try his own experiment. +Therefore, in 1843, being joined by several English socialists, one of +whom financed the undertaking, Mr. Alcott started a small community on +a worn-out not to say abandoned farm, which was hopefully christened +"Fruitlands." + +Visiting the community five or six weeks after its inception, Mr. +Emerson wrote: "The sun and the evening sky do not look calmer than +Alcott and his family at Fruitlands. They seem to have arrived at the +fact,--to have got rid of the show, and so to be serene. They look +well in July; we will see them in December." An inhospitable December +came upon the promising experiment, as it generally has upon all +similar enterprises. Under the title Transcendental Wild Oats, in +"Silver Pitchers," Miss Alcott gives a lively account of the varying +humors of this disastrous adventure. + +Whatever disappointments and privations the enterprise had in store +for their parents, the situation, with its little daily bustle, its +limitless range of fields and woods, its flower hunting and berry +picking, was full of interest and charm for four healthy children all +under the age of twelve years. The fateful December, to which Mr. +Emerson postponed his judgment, had not come before the elders were +debating a dissolution of the community. "Father asked us if we saw +any reason for us to separate," writes Louisa in her journal. "Mother +wanted to, she is so tired. I like it." Of course she did; but "not +the school part," she adds, "nor Mr. L.", who was one of her teachers. +The inevitable lessons interfered with her proper business. + +"Fruitlands" continued for three years with declining fortunes, its +lack of promise being perhaps a benefit to the family in saving for +other purposes a small legacy which Mrs. Alcott received from her +father's estate. With this and a loan of $500 from Mr. Emerson, she +bought "The Hillside" in Concord, an estate which, after the Alcotts, +was occupied by Mr. Hawthorne. Thither Mrs. Alcott removed with her +family in 1846, and the two years that followed is the period which +Louisa looked back upon as the happiest of her life, "for we had," she +says, "charming playmates in the little Emersons, Channings, +Hawthornes, and Goodwins, with the illustrious parents and their +friends to enjoy our pranks and share our excursions." Here the happy +girlish life was passed which is so charmingly depicted in "Little +Women," and here at the age of sixteen, Louisa wrote, for the +entertainment of the little Alcotts and Emersons, a series of pretty +fairy tales, still to be read in the second volume of Lulu's Library. + +Much as there was to enjoy in these surroundings, the problem of +subsistence had not been solved and, with the growth of her daughters +toward womanhood, it became more difficult for Mrs. Alcott. The world +had, apparently, no use for Mr. Alcott; there were six persons to be +fed and clothed, and no bread-winner in the family. The story is that +one day, a friend found her in tears and demanded an explanation. +"Abby Alcott, what does this mean?" asked the visitor, and when Mrs. +Alcott had made her confessions, her friend said, "Come to Boston and +I will find you employment." + +Accepting the proposition, the family removed to Boston in 1848, and +Mrs. Alcott became the agent of certain benevolent societies. Mr. +Alcott taught private classes, or held "conversations"; the older +daughters, Anna and Louisa, found employment; and we may think of the +family as fairly comfortable during the seven or eight years of its +life in Boston. "Our poor little home," says Miss Alcott, "had much +love and happiness in it, and was a shelter for lost girls, abused +wives, friendless children, and weak and wicked men. Father and mother +had no money to give but they gave time, sympathy, help; and if +blessings would make them rich, they would be millionaires." Fugitive +slaves were among the homeless who found shelter, one of whom Mrs. +Alcott concealed in an unused brick oven. + +In Miss Alcott's journal of this period, we find the burden of +existence weighing very heavily upon her, a state of mind apparently +induced by her first experience in teaching. "School is hard work," +she says, "and I feel as though I should like to run away from it. But +my children get on; so I travel up every day and do my best. I get +very little time to write or think, for my working days have begun." +Later, she seems to have seen the value of this experience. "At +sixteen," she writes, "I began to teach twenty pupils and, for ten +years, I learned to know and love children." + +Amateur theatricals were still the recreation of the Alcott girls, as +they had been almost from infancy, and the stage presented a +fascinating alternative to the school-room. "Anna wants to be an +actress and so do I," writes Louisa at seventeen. "We could make +plenty of money perhaps, and it is a very gay life. Mother says we are +too young and must wait. Anna acts splendidly. I like tragic plays and +shall be a Siddons if I can. We get up harps, dresses, water-falls, +and thunder, and have great fun." Both of the sisters wrote many +exciting dramas at this period, and one of Louisa's, "The Rival Prima +Donnas," was accepted by the manager of the Boston Theatre, who +"thought it would have a fine run" and sent the author a free pass to +the theatre, which partly compensated for the non-appearance of the +play. Some years later, a farce written by Louisa, "Nat Bachelor's +Pleasure Trip, or the Trials of a Good-Natured Man," was produced at +the Howard Athenæum, and was favorably received. Christie's experience +as an actress, in Miss Alcott's novel entitled, "Work," is imaginary +in its incidents, but autobiographical in its spirit. + +All these experiments in dramatic literature, from Jack the +Giant-Killer on, were training the future story-teller. Miss Alcott's +first story to see the light was printed in a newspaper at the age of +twenty, in 1852, though it had been written at sixteen. She received +$5.00 for it, and the event is interesting as the beginning of her +fortune. This little encouragement came at a period of considerable +trial for the family. The following is from her journal of 1853: "In +January, I started a little school of about a dozen in our parlor. In +May, my school closed and I went to L. as second girl. I needed the +change, could do the wash, and was glad to earn my $2.00 a week." +Notice that this is her summer vacation. "Home in October with $34.00 +for my wages. After two days' rest, began school again with ten +children." The family distributed themselves as follows: "Anna went to +Syracuse to teach; father to the west to try his luck,--so poor, so +hopeful, so serene. God be with him. Mother had several boarders. +School for me, month after month. I earned a good deal by sewing in +the evening when my day's work was done." + +Mr. Alcott returned from the west, and the account of his adventures +is very touching: "In February father came home. Paid his way, but no +more. A dramatic scene when he arrived in the night. We were awakened +by the bell. Mother flew down crying, My Husband. We rushed after and +five white figures embraced the half-frozen wanderer who came in, +hungry, tired, cold, and disappointed, but smiling bravely and as +serene as ever. We fed and warmed and brooded over him, longing to ask +if he had made any money; but no one did till little May said, after +he had told us all the pleasant things, 'Well, did people pay you?' +Then with a queer look he opened his pocket book, and showed one +dollar, saying with a smile, 'Only that. My overcoat was stolen, and I +had to buy a shawl. Many promises were not kept, and traveling is +costly; but I have opened the way, and another year shall do better.' +I shall never forget how beautifully mother answered him, though the +dear, hopeful soul had built much on his success: but with a beaming +face she kissed him, saying, 'I call that doing very well. Since you +are safely home, dear, we don't ask anything else.'" + +One of Miss Alcott's unfulfilled purposes was to write a story +entitled "The Pathetic Family." This passage would have found a place +in it. It deserves to be said that Mr. Alcott's faith that he had +"opened a way and another year should do better," was justified. +Fifteen years later, from one of his western tours, he brought home +$700, but, thanks to Louisa's pen, the family were no longer in such +desperate need of money. + +More than once Miss Alcott declares that no one ever assisted her in +her struggles, but that was far from true, as appears from many favors +acknowledged in her journal. It was by the kindness of a lady who +bought the manuscripts and assumed the risk of publication, that her +first book, "Flower Fables," was brought out in 1854. It consisted of +the fairy tales written six years before for the little Emersons. She +received $32.00, a sum which would have seemed insignificant thirty +years later when, in 1886, the sale of her books for six months +brought her $8,000; but she says, "I was prouder over the $32.00 than +over the $8,000." + +The picture of Jo in a garret in "Little Women," planning and writing +stories, is drawn from Louisa's experiences of the following winter. A +frequent entry in her journal for this period is "$5.00 for a story" +and her winter's earnings are summed up, "school, one quarter, $50, +sewing $50, stories, $20." In December we read, "Got five dollars for +a tale and twelve for sewing." Teaching, writing, and sewing alternate +in her life for the next five years, and, for a year or two yet, the +needle is mightier than the pen; but in 1856, she began to be paid $10 +for a story, and, in 1859, the _Atlantic_ accepted a story and paid +her $50. + +A friend for whose encouragement during these hard years, she +acknowledges great indebtedness and who appears as one of the +characters in her story, entitled "Work," was Rev. Theodore Parker, a +man as helpful, loving, and gentle as she depicts him, but then much +hated by those called orthodox and hardly in good standing among his +Unitarian brethren. Miss Alcott, then as ever, had the courage of her +convictions, was a member of his Music Hall congregation, and a +regular attendant at his Sunday evening receptions, finding him "very +friendly to the large, bashful girl who adorns his parlor regularly." +She "fought for him," she says, when some one said Mr. Parker "was not +a Christian. He is my sort; for though he may lack reverence for other +people's God, he works bravely for his own, and turns his back on no +one who needs help, as some of the pious do." After Mr. Parker's +death, Miss Alcott, when in Boston, attended the church of Dr. C. A. +Bartol, who buried her mother, her father and herself. + +In 1857, the Alcotts returned to Concord, buying and occupying the +Orchard House, which thenceforth became their home. Other family +events of the period were, the death of Miss Alcott's sister +Elizabeth, Beth in "Little Women," the marriage of Anna, Meg in +"Little Women," and a proposal of marriage to Louisa, serious enough +for her to hold a consultation over it with her mother. Miss Alcott is +said to have been averse to entangling alliances for herself, to have +married off the heroines in her novels reluctantly at the demand of +her readers, and never to have enjoyed writing the necessary +love-passages. + +The year 1860, when Miss Alcott is twenty-seven, has the distinction +of being marked in the heading of her journal as "A Year of Good +Luck." Her family had attained a comfortable, settled home in Concord; +Mr. Alcott had been appointed superintendent of public schools, an +office for which he was peculiarly well qualified and in which he was +both happy and admirably successful; Anna, the eldest sister, was +happily married; May, the youngest, was making a reputation as an +artist; and Louisa, in perfect health, having in May before, "walked +to Boston, twenty miles, in five hours, and attended an evening +party," was becoming a regular contributor to the _Atlantic_, and +receiving $50, $75, and sometimes $100 for her stories. + +In these happy conditions, Miss Alcott sat down to a more ambitious +attempt at authorship and wrote the first rough draft of "Moods," a +"problem novel" that provoked much discussion and, though it caused +her more trouble than any other of her books, was always dearest to +her heart. It was written in a kind of frenzy of poetic enthusiasm. +"Genius burned so fiercely," she says, "that for four weeks, I wrote +all day and planned nearly all night, being quite possessed by my +work. I was perfectly happy, and seemed to have no wants. Finished the +book, or a rough draft of it, and put it away to settle." It was not +published till four years later. Even in this year of good luck, there +seem to have been some privations, as she records being invited to +attend a John Brown meeting and declining because she "had no good +gown." She sends a poem instead. + +The breaking out of the Civil War stirred Miss Alcott's soul to its +depths, and we have numerous references to its progress in her +journal. "I like the stir in the air," she writes, "and long for +battle like a war-horse when he smells powder." Not being permitted to +enlist as a soldier, she went into a hospital in Washington as a +nurse. Her experiences are graphically and dramatically told in +"Hospital Sketches." That book, chiefly made from her private letters, +met the demand of the public, eager for any information about the +great war; it was widely read and, besides putting $200 in her purse, +gave her a reputation with readers and publishers. Many applications +for manuscript came in and she was told that "any publisher this side +of Baltimore would be glad to get a book" from her. "There is a sudden +hoist," she says, "for a meek and lowly scribbler. Fifteen years of +hard grubbing may come to something yet." Her receipts for the year +1863, amounted to $600 and she takes comfort in saying that she had +spent less than one hundred on herself. + +The following year, after having been twice re-written, "Moods" was +brought out and, thanks to the "Hospital Sketches," had a ready sale. +Wherever she went, she says, she "found people laughing or crying over +it, and was continually told how well it was going, how much it was +liked, how fine a thing I had done." The first edition was exhausted +in a week. An entire edition was ordered by London publishers. She was +very well satisfied with the reception of "Moods" at the time, though +in after years when fifty thousand copies of a book would be printed +as a first edition, the sale of "Moods" seemed to her inconsiderable. + +The present day reader wonders neither at the eagerness of the public +for the book, nor at the criticisms that were freely made upon it. It +is interesting from cover to cover and as a study of "a life affected +by moods, not a discussion of marriage," it is effective. In spite, +however, of the warning of the author, everyone read it as "a +discussion of marriage," and few were satisfied. The interest centres +in the fortunes of a girl who has married the wrong lover, the man to +whom, by preference, she would have given her heart being supposed to +be dead. Would that he had been, for then, to all appearance, she +would have been contented and happy. Unfortunately he returns a year +too late, finds the girl married and, though endowed with every virtue +which a novelist can bestow upon her hero, he does not know enough to +leave the poor woman in peace. On the contrary, he settles down to a +deliberate siege to find out how she feels, wrings from her the +confession that she is miserable, as by that time no doubt she was, +and then convinces her that since she does not love her husband, it is +altogether wrong to live under the same roof with him. Surely this was +nobly done. Poor Sylvia loves this villain, Miss Alcott evidently +loves him, but the bloody-minded reader would like to thrust a knife +into him. However, he is not a name or a type, but a real man, or one +could not get so angry with him. All the characters live and breathe +in these pages, and no criticism was less to the purpose than that +the situations were unnatural. Miss Alcott says "The relations of +Warwick, Moor, and Sylvia are pronounced impossible; yet a case of the +sort exists, and a woman came and asked me how I knew it. I did not +know or guess, but perhaps felt it, without any other guide, and +unconsciously put the thing into my book." + +Everyone will agree that Miss Alcott had earned a vacation, and it +came in 1865, in a trip to Europe, where she spent a year, from July +to July, as the companion of an invalid lady, going abroad for health. +The necessity of modulating her pace to the movements of a nervous +invalid involved some discomforts for a person of Miss Alcott's +pedestrian abilities, but who would not accept some discomforts for a +year of European travel? She had a reading knowledge of German and +French, and in the abundant leisure which the long rests of her +invalid friend forced upon her, she learned to speak French with +facility. + +On her return from Europe, she found her circumstances much improved. +She had established her position as a regular contributer to the +_Atlantic_ whose editor, she says, "takes all I'll send." In 1868, +she was offered and accepted the editorship of _Merry's Museum_ at a +salary of $500, and, more important, she was asked by Roberts Brothers +to "write a girl's book." Her response to this proposition was "Little +Women," which she calls "the first golden egg of the ugly duckling, +for the copyright made her fortune." Two editions were exhausted in +six weeks and the book was translated into French, German and Dutch. + +"Little Men" was written, a chapter a day, in November of the same +year, and "An Old-fashioned Girl," a popular favorite, the year +following. "Hospital Sketches" had not yet outlived its welcome, was +republished, with some additions, in 1869, and two thousand copies +were sold the first week. She is able to say, "Paid up all debts, +thank the Lord, every penny that money can pay,--and now I feel as if +I could die in peace." Besides, she has invested "$1,200 for a rainy +day," and is annoyed because "people come and stare at the Alcotts. +Reporters haunt the place to look at the authoress, who dodges into +the woods." + +The severe application which her achievement had cost had impaired +Miss Alcott's fine constitution and, in 1870, taking May, her artist +sister, she made a second trip to Europe, spending the summer in +France and Switzerland and the winter in Rome. A charming account of +the adventures of this expedition is given in "Shawl-Straps." A +pleasant incident of the journey was the receipt of a statement from +her publisher giving her credit for $6,212, and she is able to say +that she has "$10,000 well invested and more coming in all the time," +and that she thinks "we may venture to enjoy ourselves, after the hard +times we have had." + +In 1872, she published "Work: a story of Experience," and it is for +the most part, a story of her own experience. "Christie's adventures," +she says, "are many of them my own: Mr. Power is Mr. Parker: Mrs. +Wilkins is imaginary, and all the rest. This was begun at eighteen, +and never finished till H. W. Beecher wrote me for a serial for the +_Christian Union_ and paid $3,000 for it." It is one of the most +deservedly popular of her books. + +In 1877, for Roberts Brothers' "No Name Series," Miss Alcott wrote "A +Modern Mephistopheles," her least agreeable book, but original, +imaginative, and powerful. The moral of the story is that, in our +modern life, the devil does not appear with a cloven foot, but as a +cultivated man of the world. Miss Alcott's Mephistopheles is even +capable of generous impulses. With the kindness of a Good Samaritan, +he saves a poor wretch from suicide and then destroys him morally. The +devil is apparently a mixed character with a decided preponderance of +sinfulness. + +Miss Alcott had now reached her forty-fifth year, had placed her +family in independent circumstances, thus achieving her early +ambition, and the effort began to tell upon her health. A succession +of rapid changes soon came upon her. Mrs. Alcott, having attained her +seventy-seventh year, was very comfortable for her age. "Mother is +cosy with her sewing, letters, and the success of her 'girls,'" writes +Miss Alcott in January; but in June, "Marmee grows more and more +feeble," and in November the end came. "She fell asleep in my arms," +writes Louisa; "My duty is done, and now I shall be glad to follow +her." + +May, the talented artist sister, whom Louisa had educated, had once +taken to Europe and twice sent abroad for study, was married in London +in 1878, to a Swiss gentleman of good family and some fortune, Mr. +Nieriker. The marriage was a very happy one but the joy of the young +wife was brief. She died the year following, leaving an infant +daughter as a legacy to Louisa. + +Mr. Emerson's death in 1882, was, to her, much like taking a member of +her own family: "The nearest and dearest friend father ever had and +the man who helped me most by his life, his books, his society. I can +never tell all he has been to me,--from the time I sang Mignon's song +under his window (a little girl) and wrote letters _a la Bettine_ to +him, my Goethe, at fifteen, up through my hard years, when his essays +on Self-Reliance, Character, Compensation, Love, and Friendship helped +me to understand myself and life, and God and Nature." + +Mr. Alcott is still with her, vigorous for his years. In 1879, at the +age of eighty, he inaugurated the Concord School of Philosophy, "with +thirty students. Father the dean. He has his dream realized at last, +and is in glory, with plenty of talk to swim in." The school was, for +Miss Alcott, an expensive toy with which she was glad to be able to +indulge her father. Personally she cared little for it. On one of her +rare visits to it, she was asked her definition of a philosopher, and +responded instantly: "My definition is of a man up in a balloon, with +his family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth +and trying to haul him down." For her father's sake, she rejoiced in +the success of the enterprise. Of the second season, she writes, "The +new craze flourishes. The first year, Concord people stood aloof; now +the school is pronounced a success, because it brings money to the +town. Father asked why we never went, and Anna showed him a long list +of four hundred names of callers, and he said no more." + +In addition to the labors which the school laid upon Mr. Alcott, he +prepared for the press a volume of sonnets, some of which are +excellent, especially one to Louisa: + + "Ne'er from thyself by Fame's loud trump beguiled, + Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere,-- + I press thee to my heart as Duty's faithful child." + +Mr. Alcott seemed to be renewing his youth but, in November, he was +prostrated by paralysis. "Forty sonnets last winter," writes Louisa, +"and fifty lectures at the school last summer, were too much for a man +of eighty-three." He recovered sufficiently to enjoy his friends and +his books and lingered six years, every want supplied by his devoted +daughter. + +With Miss Alcott the years go on at a slower pace, the writing of +books alternating with sleepless nights and attacks of vertigo. "Jo's +Boys" was written in 1884, fifty thousand copies being printed for the +first edition. In 1886, her physician forbids her beginning anything +that will need much thought. Life was closing in upon her, and she did +not wish to live if she could not be of use. In March, 1888, Mr. +Alcott failed rapidly, and died on the sixth of the month. Miss Alcott +visited him and, in the excitement of leave-taking, neglected to wrap +herself properly, took a fatal cold, and two days after, on the day of +his burial, she followed him, in the fifty-sixth year of her age. Dr. +C. A. Bartol, who had just buried her father, said tenderly at her +funeral: "The two were so wont to be together, God saw they could not +well live apart." + +If Miss Alcott, by the pressure of circumstances, had not been a +writer of children's books, she might have been a poet, and would, +from choice, have been a philanthropist and reformer. Having worked +her own way with much difficulty, it was impossible that she should +not be interested in lightening the burdens which lay upon women, in +the race of life, and though never a prominent worker in the cause, +she was a zealous believer in the right of women to the ballot. She +attended the Woman's Congress in Syracuse, in 1875, "drove about and +drummed up women to my suffrage meeting" in Concord, she says, in +1879, and writes in a letter of 1881, "I for one don't want to be +ranked among idiots, felons, and minors any longer, for I am none of +them." + +To say that she might have been a poet does her scant justice. She +wrote two or three fine lyrics which would justify giving her a high +place among the verse-writers of her generation. "Thoreau's Flute," +printed in the _Atlantic_, has been called the most perfect of her +poems, with a possible exception of a tender tribute to her mother. +Personally, I consider the lines in memory of her mother one of the +finest elegiac poems within my knowledge: + + "Mysterious death: who in a single hour + Life's gold can so refine, + And by thy art divine, + Change mortal weakness to immortal power." + +There are twelve stanzas of equal strength and beauty. The closing +lines of this fine eulogy we may apply to Miss Alcott, for both lives +have the same lesson: + + "Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, + To earn the true success,-- + To live, to love, to bless,-- + And make death proud to take a royal soul." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Daughters of the Puritans, by Seth Curtis Beach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + +***** This file should be named 25582-8.txt or 25582-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/8/25582/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daughters of the Puritans + A Group of Brief Biographies + +Author: Seth Curtis Beach + +Release Date: May 24, 2008 [EBook #25582] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div id="title_pages"> +<h1>DAUGHTERS<br /> +OF THE PURITANS</h1> + +<p class="group">A Group of Brief Biographies</p> + +<p class="by">BY</p> + +<p class="seth">SETH CURTIS BEACH</p> + +<p class="essay"><em>Essay Index Reprint Series</em></p> + +<p class="books">BOOKS FOR LIBRARIES PRESS, INC.<br /> +<span class="freeport">FREEPORT, NEW YORK</span></p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p>First published 1905<br /> +Reprinted 1967</p> +</div> + +<div class="section_break"></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/child_home.jpg" width="500" height="439" alt="THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD AT WAYLAND, MASSACHUSETTS" +title="THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD AT WAYLAND, MASSACHUSETTS" /> +<span class="caption">THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD AT WAYLAND, MASSACHUSETTS</span> +</div> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="Table of Contents"> +<thead> +<tr> + <th> </th> + <th>PAGE</th> +</tr> +</thead> +<tbody> +<tr> + <td>CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK, 1789–1867</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_I">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>MARY LOVELL WARE, 1798–1849</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_II">43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>LYDIA MARIA CHILD, 1802–1880</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_III">79</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX, 1802–1887</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_IV">123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI, 1810–1850</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_V">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, 1811–1896</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_VI">209</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 1832–1888</td> + <td class="table_right"><a href="#Chapter_VII">251</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_I" id="Chapter_I"></a>I<br /><br /> +CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 436px;"> +<img src="images/sedgwick.jpg" width="436" height="500" alt="CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK" title="CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK" /> +<span class="caption">CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK</span> +</div> + +<p>During the first half of the nineteenth century, Miss Sedgwick would +doubtless have been considered the queen of American letters, but, in +the opinion of her friends, the beauty of her character surpassed the +merit of her books. In 1871, Miss Mary E. Dewey, her life-long +neighbor, edited a volume of Miss Sedgwick's letters, mostly to +members of her family, in compliance with the desire of those who knew +and loved her, "that some printed memorial should exist of a life so +beautiful and delightful in itself, and so beneficent in its influence +upon others." Truly a "life beautiful in itself and beneficent in its +influence," the reader will say, as he lays down this tender volume.</p> + +<p>Catharine Maria Sedgwick was born at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1789, the +first year of the presidency of George Washington. She was a +descendant from Robert Sedgwick, major-general under Cromwell, and +governor of Jamaica. Her father, Theodore Sedgwick, was a country boy, +born in 1746, upon a barren farm in one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> the hill-towns of +Connecticut. Here the family opened a country store, then added a +tavern, and with the combined industries of farm, store and tavern, +Theodore, most fortunate of the sons if not the favorite, was sent to +Yale college, where he remained, until, in the last year of his +course, he managed to get himself expelled. He began the study of +theology, his daughter suggests, in a moment of contrition over +expulsion from college, but soon turned to the law for which he had +singular aptitude. He could not have gone far in his legal career +when, before the age of twenty-one, he married a beautiful girl whose +memory he always tenderly cherished, as well he might considering his +part in the tragedy of her early death. He had taken small pox, had +been duly quarantined and discharged but his young wife combed out the +tangles of his matted hair, caught the disease, and died, within a +year after marriage.</p> + +<p>Marriage was necessary in those days, his daughter suggests, and the +year of conventional widowhood having expired, Mr. Sedgwick, then at +the age of twenty-three, married Miss Pamela Dwight, the mother of his +four sons, all successful lawyers, and his three daughters, all +exemplary women. The second Mrs. Sedgwick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> was presumably more +beautiful than the first; certainly she was more celebrated. She is +immortalized by her portrait in Griswold's "American Court," and by a +few complimentary lines in Mrs. Ellet's "Queens of American Society."</p> + +<p>Theodore Sedgwick rose to distinction by his energies and talents but, +as we have seen, he was of sufficiently humble origin, which could not +have been greatly redeemed by expulsion from college; while at the age +of twenty-three, that must have been his chief exploit. Social lines +were very firmly drawn in that old colonial society, before the plough +of the Revolution went through it, and there was no more aristocratic +family than the Dwights, in Western Massachusetts.</p> + +<p>Madame Quincy gives an account of a visit, in her girlhood, paid to +the mother of Miss Pamela, Madame Dwight, in her "mansion-house," and +says that her husband, Brig.-Gen. Joseph Dwight, was "one of the +leading men of Massachusetts in his day." Madame Dwight was presumably +not inferior to her husband. She was daughter of Col. Williams, of +Williamstown, who commanded a brigade in the old French War, and whose +son founded Williams College. A daughter of Madame Dwight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> older than +Pamela, married Mark Hopkins, "a distinguished lawyer of his time," +says Madame Quincy, and grandfather of Rev. Mark Hopkins, D.D., +perhaps the most illustrious president of the college founded by +Madame Dwight's family.</p> + +<p>The intermarriage of the Williamses, Dwights, and Hopkinses formed a +fine, aristocratic circle, into which the Sedgwicks were not very +cordially welcomed. "My mother's family (of this," says Mrs. Sedgwick, +"I have rather an indefinite impression than any knowledge) objected +to my father on the score of family, they priding themselves on their +gentle blood; but as he afterwards rose far beyond their highest +water-mark, the objection was cast into oblivion by those who made +it."</p> + +<p>A few years after this marriage, the war of the Revolution began. Mr. +Sedgwick entered the army, served as an officer under Washington, +whose acquaintance and favor he enjoyed, and from that time, for forty +years until his death, he was in public life, in positions of +responsibility and honor. He was member of the Continental Congress, +member of the House of Representatives, Speaker of the House, Sen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>ator +from Massachusetts, and, at his death, judge of the Massachusetts +Supreme Court.</p> + +<p>Judge Sedgwick was a staunch Federalist and, in spite of the fact that +he himself was not born in the purple, he shared the common Federalist +contempt for the masses. "I remember my father," says Miss Sedgwick, +"one of the kindest-hearted men and most observant of the rights of +all beneath him, habitually spoke of the people as 'Jacobins,' +'sans-culottes,' and 'miscreants.' He—and this I speak as a type of +the Federalist party—dreaded every upward step they made, regarding +their elevation as a depression, in proportion to their ascension, of +the intelligence and virtue of the country." "He was born too soon," +says his daughter apologetically, "to relish the freedoms of +democracy, and I have seen his brow lower when a free and easy +mechanic came to the front door, and upon one occasion, I remember his +turning off the east steps (I am sure not kicking, but the +demonstration was unequivocal) a grown up lad who kept his hat on +after being told to remove it." In these days one would hardly tell +him to remove it, let alone hustling him off the steps.</p> + +<p>The incident shows how far education, prosperity, wealth, and forty +years of public life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> had transformed the father of Miss Sedgwick from +the country boy of a hill-farm in Connecticut. More to our present +purpose, the apologetic way in which Miss Sedgwick speaks of these +high-bred prejudices of her father, shows that she does not share +them. "The Federalists," she says, "stood upright, and their feet +firmly planted on the rock of aristocracy but that rock was bedded in +the sands, or rather was a boulder from the Old World, and the tide of +democracy was surely and swiftly undermining it."</p> + +<p>When this was written, Miss Sedgwick had made the discovery that, +while the Federalists had the better "education, intellectual and +moral," the "democrats had among them much native sagacity" and an +earnest "determination to work out the theories of the government." +She is writing to her niece: "All this my dear Alice, as you may +suppose, is an after-thought. Then I entered fully, and with the faith +and ignorance of childhood, into the prejudices of the time." Those +prejudices must have been far behind her when her first story was +written, "A New England Tale," in which it happens, inadvertently we +may believe, all the worst knaves are blue-blooded and at least most +of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> decent persons are poor and humble. Later we shall see her +slumming in New York like a Sister of Charity, 'saving those that are +lost,' a field of labor toward which her Federalist education scarcely +led.</p> + +<p>She could have learned some condescension and humanity from her mother +who, in spite of her fine birth, seems to have been modest and +retiring to a degree. She was very reluctant to have her husband +embark upon a public career; had, her daughter says, "No sympathy with +what is called honor and distinction"; and wrote her husband a letter +of protest which is worth quoting if only to show how a well-trained +wife would write her doting husband something more than a century ago: +"Pardon me, my dearest Mr. Sedgwick, if I beg you once more to think +over the matter before you embark in public business. I grant that the +'call of our country,' the 'voice of fame,' and the 'Honorable' and +'Right-Honorable,' are high sounding words. 'They play around the +head, but they come not near the heart.'" However, if he decides for a +public career, she will submit: "Submission is my duty, and however +hard, I will try to practice what reason teaches me I am under +obligation to do." That address, "my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> dearest Mr. Sedgwick," from a +wife a dozen years after marriage, shows a becoming degree of respect.</p> + +<p>We may be sure that this gentle mother would have encouraged no silly +notions of social distinctions in the minds of her children. Even Mr. +Sedgwick seems to have had a softer and more human side to his nature +than we have yet seen. Miss Sedgwick enjoys repeating a story which +she heard from a then "venerable missionary." The son of the village +shoemaker, his first upward step was as boy-of-all-work of the clerk +of courts. He had driven his master to the court session in dignified +silence, broken on arrival by a curt order to take in the trunk. "As +he set it down in the entry," says Miss Sedgwick, "my father, then +judge of the Supreme Judicial Court, was coming down stairs, bringing +his trunk himself. He set it down, accosted the boy most kindly, and +gave him his cordial hand. The lad's feelings, chilled by his master's +haughtiness, at once melted, and took an impression of my father's +kindness that was never effaced."</p> + +<p>The individual is so much a creature of his environment, that I must +carry these details a little farther. Forty years in public life, +Judge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> Sedgwick had an extended acquaintance and, according to the +custom of the time, kept open house. "When I remember," says Miss +Sedgwick, "how often the great gate swung open for the entrance of +traveling vehicles, the old mansion seems to me much more like an +hostelrie of the olden time than the quiet house it now is. My +father's hospitality was unbounded. It extended from the gentleman in +his coach, chaise, or on horseback, according to his means or +necessities, to the poor, lame beggar that would sit half the night +roasting at the kitchen fire with the negro servants. My father was in +some sort the chieftain of his family, and his home was their resort +and resting-place. Uncles and aunts always found a welcome there; +cousins wintered and summered with us. Thus hospitality was an element +in our education. It elicited our faculties of doing and suffering. It +smothered the love and habit of minor comforts and petty physical +indulgences that belong to a higher state of civilization and generate +selfishness, and it made regard for others, and small sacrifices for +them, a habit."</p> + +<p>Just one word more about this home, the like of which it would be hard +to find in our generation: "No bickering or dissention was ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +permitted. Love was the habit, the life of the household rather than +the law.—A querulous tone, a complaint, a slight word of dissention, +was met by that awful frown of my father's. Jove's thunder was to a +pagan believer but as a summer day's drifting cloud to it. It was not +so dreadful because it portended punishment,—it was punishment; it +was a token of suspension of the approbation and love that were our +life."</p> + +<p>These passages have a twofold value. They tell us in what school Miss +Sedgwick was educated, and they give us a specimen of her literary +style. Language is to her a supple instrument, and she makes the +reader see what she undertakes to relate.</p> + +<p>Judge Sedgwick died in Boston, in 1813, when Miss Sedgwick was +twenty-three. The biographical Dictionaries say he was a member of Dr. +Channing's church. As Miss Sedgwick relates the facts, he had long +desired to "make a public profession of religion," but had been +deterred because he could not conscientiously join the church of his +family, in Stockbridge, with its Calvinistic confession, and was too +tender of the feelings of his pastor to join another,—"unworthy +motives," says Miss Sedgwick. Briefly stated, he now sent for Dr. +Channing and re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>ceived from him the communion. Later, Miss Sedgwick +followed him into the Unitarian fellowship. She, and two distinguished +brothers, were among the founders of the first Unitarian church in New +York city.</p> + +<p>Miss Dewey calls her volume "The Life and Letters" of Miss Sedgwick, +but the Life is very scantily written. She has given us a picture +rather than a biography. Indeed, to write a biography of Miss Sedgwick +is no easy task, there was so much of worth in her character and so +little of dramatic incident in her career. Independent in her +circumstances, exempt from struggle for existence or for social +position, unambitious for literary fame and surprised at its coming, +unmarried and yet domestic in tastes and habits, at home in any one of +the five households of her married brothers and sisters, she lived for +seventy-seven years as a favored guest at the table of fortune. She +saw things happen to others, but they did not happen to her. It was +with her as with Whittier's sweet Quakeress:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For all her quiet life flowed on<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As meadow streamlets flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where fresher green reveals alone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The noiseless ways they go."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>Of her outward career, Miss Dewey truly says: "No striking incidents, +no remarkable occurrences will be found in it, but the gradual +unfolding and ripening amid congenial surroundings of a true and +beautiful soul, a clear and refined intellect, and a singularly +sympathetic social nature. She was born eighty years ago"—this was +written in 1871,—"when the atmosphere was still electric with the +storm in which we took our place among the nations, and, passing her +childhood in the seclusion of a New England valley, while yet her +family was linked to the great world without by ties both political +and social, early and deep foundations were laid in her character of +patriotism, religious feeling, love of nature, and strong attachment +to home, and to those who made it what it was. And when in later life, +she took her place among the acknowledged leaders of literature and +society, these remained the central features of her character, and +around them gathered all the graceful culture, the active +philanthropy, the social accomplishment, which made her presence a joy +wherever it came."</p> + +<p>It is not singular if she began her existence at a somewhat advanced +stage. She was quite sure she remembered incidents that took place +before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> she was two years old. She remembered a dinner party at which +Miss Susan Morton, afterward Madame Quincy, was present, and to which +her father and her brother, Theodore, came from Philadelphia. If you +are anxious to know what incidents of such an event would fix +themselves in the mind of a child of two, they were these: She made +her first attempt to say "Theodore," and "Philadelphia," and she tried +her baby trick of biting her glass, for which she had doubtless been +reproved, and watched its effect upon her father. "I recall perfectly +the feeling with which I turned my eye to him, expecting to see that +brow cloud with displeasure, but it was smooth as love could make it. +That consciousness, that glance, that assurance, remained stamped +indelibly."</p> + +<p>"Education in the common sense," says Miss Sedgwick, "I had next to +none." For schools, she fared like other children in Stockbridge, with +the difference that her father was "absorbed in political life," her +mother, in Catharine's youth an invalid, died early, and no one, she +says, "dictated my studies or overlooked my progress. I remember +feeling an intense ambition to be at the head of my class, and +generally being there. Our minds were not weakened by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> too much study; +reading, spelling, and Dwight's geography were the only paths of +knowledge into which we were led;" to which accomplishments she adds +as an after-thought, grammar and arithmetic.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, when in 1838, six of the Sedgwick family travelled +together through France and Italy, doing much of those sunny lands on +foot, Miss Sedgwick was interpreter for the party in both countries, +apparently easy mistress of their respective languages. It is +remarkable what fine culture seems to have been attainable by a New +England child born more than a hundred years ago, when Harvard and +Yale were, as we are told, mere High Schools, and Radcliffe and +Wellesley were not even dreamed of. Instead of Radcliffe or Wellesley, +Miss Sedgwick attended a boarding school in Albany, at the age of +thirteen and, at the age of fifteen, another in Boston, the latter for +six months, and the former could not have been more than two years. +Both, according to her, gave her great social advantages, and did +little for her scholarship. Miss Bell, the head of the Albany school, +"rose late, was half the time out of the school, and did very little +when in it."</p> + +<p>Miss Paine's school in Boston, let us hope,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> was better; but "I was at +the most susceptible age. My father's numerous friends in Boston +opened their doors to me. I was attractive in my appearance"—she is +writing this to a niece and it is probably all true—"and, from always +associating on equal terms with those much older than myself, I had a +mental maturity rather striking, and with an ignorance of the world, a +romantic enthusiasm, an aptitude at admiring and loving that +altogether made me an object of general interest. I was admired and +flattered. Harry and Robert were then resident graduates at Cambridge. +They were too inexperienced to perceive the mistake I was making; they +were naturally pleased with the attentions I was receiving. The winter +passed away in a series of bewildering gayeties. I had talent enough +to be liked by my teachers, and good nature to secure their good will. +I gave them very little trouble in any way. When I came home from +Boston I felt the deepest mortification at my waste of time and money, +though my father never said one word to me on the subject. For the +only time in my life I rose early to read French, and in a few weeks +learned more by myself than I had acquired all winter."</p> + +<p>It will be seen that she had the ability to study<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> without a teacher, +and that is an art which, with time at one's disposal and the stimulus +at hand, assures education. Intellectual stimulus was precisely what +her home furnished. "I was reared in an atmosphere of high +intelligence. My father had uncommon mental vigor. So had my brothers. +Their daily habits and pursuits and pleasures, were intellectual, and +I naturally imbibed from them a kindred taste. Their talk was not of +beeves, nor of making money; that now universal passion had not +entered into men and possessed them as it does now, or if it had, it +was not in the sanctuary of our home,—there the money-changers did +not come."</p> + +<p>The more we know of her home life, the less wonder we have at her +mental development. She says that "at the age of eight, my father, +whenever he was at home, kept me up and at his side till nine o'clock +in the evening, to listen to him while he read aloud to the family +Hume, or Shakspere, or Don Quixote, or Hudibras. Certainly I did not +understand them, but some glances of celestial light reached my soul, +and I caught from his magnetic sympathy some elevation of feeling, and +that love of reading which has been to me an education." A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> modern +girl is liable to nervous prostration without being kept up till nine +on such juvenile literature as Hume and Shakspere at the age of eight; +but Miss Sedgwick was a country girl who, in youth, lived out of doors +and romped like a boy and, at the age of fifty, led a party of young +nieces through France, Switzerland, and Italy, much of the way on foot +and always at their head. Always fortune's favorite, she enjoyed among +other things remarkably good health.</p> + +<p>She thinks she was ten years old when she read Rollin's Ancient +History, spending the noon intermission, when of course she ought to +have been at play, out of sight under her desk, where she "read, and +munched, and forgot myself in Cyrus's greatness."</p> + +<p>A winter in New York, where she afterward spent so much of her time, +was her first absence from home. She had a married sister there whose +husband was in government employ, and her oldest brother was there +studying law. She was eleven years old; the date was 1801; and her +business in New York seems to have been to attend a French Dancing +School of which at that era there was but one in the city. She saw her +first play, and used to dry the still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> damp newspaper, in her +eagerness to read the theatre announcements. She also experienced a +very severe humiliation. She, with her brother, Theodore, attended a +large dinner party at the house of a friend of her father. "Our host +asked me, the only stranger guest, which part of a huge turkey, in +which he had put his carving fork, I would take. I knew only one point +of manners for such occasions, dear Alice,—that I must specify some +part, and as ill luck would have it, the side-bone came first into my +head, and 'Side-bone, sir,' I said. Oh what a lecture I got when we +got home, the wretched little chit that compelled a gentleman to cut +up a whole turkey to serve her! I cried myself to sleep that night." +It was too bad to spoil that dinner party for the little girl.</p> + +<p>Her mother died when Miss Sedgwick was seventeen; her father when she +was twenty-three. All her brothers and sisters were married and +living, three of them in New York city, one in Albany, and one, her +youngest brother, in Lenox. With this brother in Lenox, Miss Sedgwick +for many happy years, had her home, at least her summer home, having +five rooms in an annex to his house built for her, into which she +gathered her household gods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> and where she dispensed hospitality to +her friends. For many years, New York city was generally her winter +home.</p> + +<p>Theoretically, we have arrived with this maiden at the age of +twenty-three, but we must go back and read from one or two early +letters. She is ten years old when, under date of 1800, she writes her +father: "My dear papa,—Last week I received a letter from you which +gave me inexpressible pleasure." This is the child's prattle of a girl +of ten summers. She writes very circumspectly for her years of a new +brother-in-law: "I see—indeed I think I see in Mr. Watson everything +that is amiable. I am very much pleased with him; indeed we all are." +The following is dated 1801, when she is eleven: "You say in your last +letters that the time will soon come when you will take leave of +Congress forever. That day shall I, in my own mind, celebrate forever; +yes, as long as I live I shall reflect upon the dear time when my dear +papa left a public life to live in a retired one with his dear wife +and children; then you will have the pleasure to think, when you quit +the doors of the House, that you are going to join your family +forever; but, my dear papa, I cannot feel as you will when looking +back on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> your past life in Congress. You will remember how much you +have exerted yourself in order to save your country."</p> + +<p>There was something in the relations of this Sedgwick family, not +perhaps without parallel, but very beautiful. These brothers and +sisters write to each other like lovers. To her brother Robert, Miss +Sedgwick writes, "I have just finished, my dear brother, the second +perusal of your kind letter received to-day.... I do love my brothers +with perfect devotedness, and they are such brothers as may put +gladness into a sister's spirit.... Never, my dear Robert, did brother +and sister have a more ample experience of the purity of love, and the +sweet exchange of offices of kindness that binds hearts indissolubly +together."</p> + +<p>There are three letters from Robert Sedgwick to show how he +reciprocated this affection. He says: "I can never be sufficiently +grateful to my Maker for having given me such a sister. If I had no +other sin to answer for than that of being so unworthy of her as I am, +it would be more than I can bear, and yet when I read your letters I +almost think that I am what I should be. I know I have a strong +aspiration to be such, and I am sure they make me better as well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> as +happier." Again, he says: "Thanks, thanks—how cold a word, my dearest +Kate, in return for your heart-cheering letter! It came to me in the +midst of my Nol Pros., special verdicts, depositions, protests, +business correspondence, etc., like a visitant from the skies. Indeed, +my dearest Kate, you may laugh at me if you will for saying so, but +there is something about your influence over me which seems to have +shuffled off this mortal coil of earthiness; to be unmixed with +anything that remains to be perfected; to be perfectly spiritualized, +and yet to retain its contact with every part of its subject.... Lest +I should talk foolishly on this subject, I will dismiss it, only +begging you not to forget how your letters cheer, rejoice, elevate, +renovate me."</p> + +<p>Here is a love-letter from Theodore, her eldest brother: "Having this +moment perused your letter the third time, I could not help giving you +an answer to it, though there be nothing in it interrogative. Nor was +it meant to be tender or sentimental, or learned, but like all your +letters, it is so sweet, so excellent, so natural, so much without +art, and yet so much beyond art, that, old, cold, selfish, unthankful +as I am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> God that I have such a +sister." Let us revenge ourselves upon these brother and sister lovers +by saying that perhaps they did not feel any more than some other +people, only they had a habit of expressing their feelings. If that +was all, we cannot deny that the habit was very beautiful.</p> + +<p>Why did Miss Sedgwick never marry? We are not distinctly told; but she +did not need to, with such lovers in her own family. Besides, how +could she find any one, in her eyes, equal to those brothers, and how +could she marry any one of lower merit? "I am satisfied," she writes, +"by long and delightful experience, that I can never love any body +better than my brothers. I have no expectation of ever finding their +equal in worth and attraction, therefore—do not be alarmed; I am not +on the verge of a vow of celibacy, nor have I the slightest intention +of adding any rash resolutions to the ghosts of those that have been +frightened to death by the terrors of maiden life; but therefore—I +shall never change my condition until I change my mind." This is at +the age of twenty-three.</p> + +<p>Later in life, after many changes had come, she seems to have wished +she had not been so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> very hard to suit. Fifteen years roll away, +during which we see one suitor after another, dismissed, when she +writes in a journal not to be read in her life-time, "It is difficult +for one who began life as I did, the primary object of affection to +many, to come by degrees to be first to none, and still to have my +love remain in its full strength, and craving such returns as have no +substitute.... It is the necessity of a solitary condition, an +unnatural state.... From my own experience I would not advise any one +to remain unmarried, for my experience has been a singularly happy +one. My feelings have never been embittered by those slights and +taunts that the repulsive and neglected have to endure; there has been +no period of my life to the present moment when I might not have +allied myself respectably, and to those sincerely attached to me.... I +have troops of friends, some devotedly attached to me, and yet the +result of this very happy experience is that there is no substitute +for those blessings which Providence has placed first, and ordained +that they shall be purchased at the dearest sacrifice." Those who have +paid the price and purchased the blessings may have the satisfaction +of knowing that, according to Miss Sedgwick's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> mature opinion, they +have chosen the better part.</p> + +<p>We might call this statement the Confessions of an Old Maid who might +have done better. She closes her testimony with an acknowledgment that +she "ought to be grateful and humble," and the "hope, through the +grace of God, to rise more above the world, to attain a higher and +happier state of feeling, to order my house for that better world +where self may lose something of its engrossing power." This religious +attitude was not unusual, nor merely conventional and unmeaning. All +the Sedgwick family seem to have been constitutionally religious. The +mother was almost painfully meek in her protest against her husband's +embarking upon a public career; Mr. Sedgwick has been deterred from +joining a church only by some impossible articles of puritan divinity, +but cannot die happy until he has received the communion from Dr. +Channing; "both my sisters were very religious," says Miss Sedgwick; +while the letters I have quoted from two of her brothers, young +lawyers and men of the world, have the devoutness of the psalms. "I +can never be sufficiently grateful to my Maker for having given me +such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> sister," says Robert; and Theodore: "selfish, unthankful as I +am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank God that I have such a +sister." Of course one can use a religious dialect without meaning +much by it, but these Sedgwicks were cultivated people, who thought +for themselves, and did not speak cant to each other.</p> + +<p>Since it was a religious impulse that turned Miss Sedgwick's mind to +literature, it is worth while to follow the thread of her spiritual +history. This was written at the age of twenty when she was looking +for a religious experience that never came, and would have considered +herself one of the wicked: "On no subject would I voluntarily be +guilty of hypocricy, and on that which involves all the importance of +our existence I should shrink from the slightest insincerity. You +misunderstood my last letter. I exposed to you a state of mind and +feeling produced, not by religious impressions, but by the convictions +of reason." Of course "reason" was no proper organ of religion; but +besides this defect, her interest in serious things was liable to +interruption "by the cares and pleasures of the world" and, perhaps +worst of all, "I have not a fixed belief on some of the most material +points of our religion." One does not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> see how a person in this state +of mind should have anything to call "our religion." She seems to have +advanced much further in a letter to her brother Robert, three years +later: "I long to see you give your testimony of your acceptance of +the forgiving love of your Master.</p> + +<p>... God grant, in his infinite mercy, that we may all touch the +garment of our Savior's righteousness and be made whole."</p> + +<p>The editor of these letters tells us that Miss Sedgwick is now a +member of Dr. Mason's church in New York city, having joined at the +age of twenty, or soon after the letter in which she says she is not +satisfied on certain points of doctrine. Dr. Mason is described as an +undiluted Calvinist, "who then was the most conspicuous pulpit orator +in the country—a man confident in his faith and bold to audacity." +Miss Sedgwick stands the strong meat of Calvinism ten years, when we +have this letter. "I presume you saw the letter I wrote Susan, in +which I said that I did not think I should go to Dr. Mason's Church +again.... You know, my dear Frances, that I never adopted some of the +articles of the creed of that church and some of those upon which the +doctor is fond of expatiating, and which appear to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> both +unscriptural and very unprofitable, and, I think, very demoralizing."</p> + +<p>What perhaps stimulated the zeal of Dr. Mason to insist upon doctrines +always objectionable to Miss Sedgwick, was an attempt then being made +to establish a Unitarian church in New York city. She has not joined +in the movement, but does not know but it may come to that. It is a +critical moment in Miss Sedgwick's history, and it happened at this +time she went to hear Dr. Mason's farewell sermon. "As usual," she +says, "he gave the rational Christians an anathema. He said they had +fellowship with the devil: no, he would not slander the devil, they +were worse, etc." Very possibly this preaching had its proper effect +upon many hearers, and they gave the "rational Christians" a wide +berth, but it precipitated Miss Sedgwick into their ranks. She was not +then a thorough-going Unitarian, saying, "there are some of your +articles of unbelief that I am not Protestant enough to subscribe to"; +a little more gentleness on the part of Dr. Mason could have kept her, +but she could not stand "what seems to me," she says, "a gross +violation of the religion of the Redeemer, and an insult to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> large +body of Christians entitled to respect and affection."</p> + +<p>She joined the tabooed circle in 1821, and wrote from Stockbridge, +"Some of my friends here have, as I learn, been a little troubled, but +after the crime of confessed Unitarianism, nothing can surprise them"; +she longs to look upon a Christian minister who does not regard her as +"a heathen and a publican." An aunt, very fond of her, said to her, +one day as they were parting, "Come and see me as often as you can, +dear, for you know, after this world we shall never meet again."</p> + +<p>These religious tribulations incited her to write a short story, after +the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, to contrast two kinds of +religion, of one of which she had seen more than was good. The story +was to appear as a tract, but it outgrew the dimensions of a tract, +and was published as a book under the title of "A New England Tale." +It is not a masterpiece of literature but, like all of Miss Sedgwick's +works, it contains some fine delineations of character and vivid +descriptions of local scenery. It can be read to-day with interest and +pleasure. As a dramatic presentation of the self-righteous and the +meek, in a New<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> England country town a century ago, it is very +effective. "Mrs. Wilson" is perhaps a more stony heart than was common +among the 'chosen vessels of the Lord,' but so the Pharisee in the +parable may have been a trifle exaggerated. The advantage of this kind +of writing is that you do not miss the point of the story.</p> + +<p>Miss Dewey says The New England Tale gave Miss Sedgwick an "immediate +position in the world of American literature." Her brother Theodore +wrote, "It exceeds all my expectations, fond and flattering as they +were"; her brother Harry, "I think, dear Kate, that your destiny is +fixed. As you are such a Bibleist, I only say don't put your light +under a bushel." That the book did not fall still-born is evident when +he says further, "The orthodox do all they can to put it down." On the +other hand, her publisher wanted to print a cheap edition of 3,000 +copies for missionary purposes. I should like to see that done to-day +by some zealous liberal-minded publisher.</p> + +<p>The New England Tale appeared in 1822, when Cooper had only published +"Precaution" and "The Spy." In 1824, Miss Sedgwick published +"Redwood," of which a second edition was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> called for the same year, +and which was republished in England and translated into French. It +reached distinction in the character of Deborah Lenox, of which Miss +Edgworth said, "It is to America what Scott's characters are to +Scotland, valuable as original pictures." Redwood was reviewed by +Bryant in the North American, in an article which, he says, was up to +that time his "most ambitious attempt in prose." "Hope Leslie" +appeared in 1827. It was so much better than its predecessors, said +the <em>Westminster Review</em>, that one would not suppose it by the same +hand. Sismondi, the Swiss historian, wrote the author a letter of +thanks and commendation, which was followed by a life-long friendship +between these two authors. Mrs. Child, then Miss Francis and the +author of "Hobomok" and "The Rebels," wrote her that she had nearly +completed a story on Capt. John Smith which now she will not dare to +print, but she surrenders with less reluctance, she says, "for I love +my conqueror." "Is not that beautiful?" says Miss Sedgwick. "Better to +write and to feel such a sentiment than to indite volumes."</p> + +<p>"Clarence" was published in 1830, and I am glad to say, she sold the +rights to the first edi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>tion for $1,200, before the critics got hold +of it. The scene is laid in New York and in high life. The story, said +the <em>North American Review</em>, is "improbable" but not "dull." Miss +Dewey says, "It is the most romantic and at the same time the wittiest +of her novels," but Bryant says it has been the least read. "The +Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in America," appeared in 1835, and +Bryant called it "a charming tale of home life, thought by many to be +the best of her novels properly so called."</p> + +<p>If Miss Sedgwick had written none of these more elaborate works, she +would deserve a permanent place in our literature for a considerable +library of short stories, among which I should name "A Berkshire +Tradition," a pathetic tale of the Revolution; "The White Scarf," a +romantic story of Mediæval France; "Fanny McDermot," a study of +conventional morality; "Home," of which the <em>Westminster Review</em> said, +"We wish this book was in the hands of every mechanic in England"; +"The Poor Rich Man and the Rich Poor Man" of which Joseph Curtis, the +philanthropist, said, "in all his experiences he had never known so +much good fruit from the publication of any book"; and, not least, +"Live and let Live: or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> domestic service illustrated," of which Dr. +Channing wrote, "I cannot, without violence to my feelings, refrain +from expressing to you the great gratification with which I have read +your 'Live and let Live.' Thousands will be better and happier for +it.... Your three last books, I trust, form an era in our literature."</p> + +<p>This was high praise, considering that there was then no higher +literary authority in America than Dr. Channing. However, a message +from Chief Justice Marshall, through Judge Story, belongs with it: +"Tell her I have read with great pleasure everything she has written, +and wish she would write more." She had gained an enviable position in +literature and she had done a great deal of useful work during the +fifteen years since the timid appearance of "A New England Tale," but +she seems to have regarded her books as simply a "by-product": "My +author existence has always seemed something accidental, extraneous, +and independent of my inner self. My books have been a pleasant +occupation and excitement in my life.... But they constitute no +portion of my happiness—that is, of such as I derive from the dearest +relations of life. When I feel that my writings have made any one +hap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>pier or better, I feel an emotion of gratitude to Him who has made +me the medium of any blessing to my fellow creatures."</p> + +<p>In 1839, Miss Sedgwick went to Europe in company with her brother +Robert, and other relatives. The party was abroad two years and, on +its return, Miss Sedgwick collected her European letters and published +them in two volumes. They give one a view of Europe as seen by an +intelligent observer still in the first half of the last century. She +breakfasted with Rogers, the banker and poet, with whom she met +Macaulay whose conversation was to her "rich and delightful. Some +might think he talks too much; but none, except from their own +impatient vanity, could wish it were less." She had tea at Carlyle's, +found him "simple, natural and kindly, his conversation as picturesque +as his writings." She "had an amusing evening at Mr. Hallam's"; he +made her "quite forget he was the sage of the 'Middle Ages.'" At +Hallam's she met Sydney Smith who was "in the vein, and we saw him, I +believe, to advantage. His wit is not, as I expected, a succession of +brilliant explosions but a sparkling stream of humor."</p> + +<p>In Geneva, she visited her friends, the Sis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>mondis, and in Turin +received a call from Silvio Pellico, martyr to Italian liberty. "He is +of low stature and slightly made, a sort of etching of a man with +delicate and symmetrical features, just enough body to gravitate and +keep the spirit from its natural upward flight—a more shadowy Dr. +Channing."</p> + +<p>Soon after Miss Sedgwick's return from Europe, she became connected +with the Women's Prison Association of New York City, of which from +1848 to 1863 she was president. An extract from one letter must +suffice to suggest the nature of her activities in connection with +this and kindred philanthropies: "It is now just ten, and I have come +up from the City Hall, in whose dismal St. Giles precincts I have been +to see a colored ragged school.... My Sundays are not days of rest.... +My whole soul is sickened; and to-day when I went to church filled +with people in their fine summer clothes, and heard a magnificent +sermon from Dr. Dewey, and thought of the streets and dens through +which I had just walked, I could have cried out, Why are ye here?"</p> + +<p>A fellow-member of the Prison Association, who often accompanied her +on her visits to hospitals and prisons, "especially the Tombs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +Blackwell's, and Randall's Island," says, "In her visitations, she was +called upon to kneel at the bedside of the sick and dying. The +sweetness of her spirit, and the delicacy of her nature, felt by all +who came within her atmosphere, seemed to move the unfortunate to ask +this office of her, and it was never asked in vain."</p> + +<p>Always a philanthropist, Miss Sedgwick was not a "reformer" in the +technical sense; that is, she did not enlist in the "movements" of her +generation, for Temperance, or Anti-Slavery, or Woman's Rights. She +shrunk from the excesses of the "crusaders," but she was never slow in +striking a blow in a good cause. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was published in +1852, but its indictment of slavery is not more complete than Miss +Sedgwick made in "Redwood," her second novel, twenty-five years +before. A planter's boy sees a slave starved to famishing and then +whipped to death. It hurt his boy heart, but he afterward became +hardened to such necessary severity and he tells the story to a fellow +planter with apologies for his youthful sentimentality. Does "Uncle +Tom's Cabin" show more clearly the two curses of slavery:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> cruelty to +the slave and demoralization to the master?</p> + +<p>She sympathized with the abolitionists in their purpose but not always +with their methods: "The great event of the past week has been the +visit of the little apostle of Abolitionism—Lucy Stone." This was in +1849 when Mrs. Stone was thirty-one. "She has one of the very sweetest +voices I ever heard, a readiness of speech and grace that furnish the +external qualifications of an orator—a lovely countenance too—and +the intensity, entire forgetfulness and the divine calmness that fit +her to speak in the great cause she has undertaken." But in spite of +this evident sympathy with the purpose of the Abolitionists, Miss +Sedgwick declined to attend a meeting of the Anti-Slavery Society, +saying: "It seemed to me that so much had been intemperately said, so +much rashly urged, on the death of that noble martyr, John Brown, by +the Abolitionists, that it was not right to appear among them as one +of them."</p> + +<p>Not even Lucy Stone, however, could have felt more horror at the +institution of slavery. The Compromise Measures of 1850 made her +shudder: "my hands are cold as ice; the blood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> has curdled in my +heart; that word <em>compromise</em> has a bad savor when truth and right are +in question." When the Civil War came, in her seventieth year, she had +"an intense desire to live to see the conclusion of the struggle," but +could not conjecture "how peace and good neighborhood are ever to +follow from this bitter hate." "It is delightful to see the gallantry +of some of our men, who are repeating the heroic deeds that seemed +fast receding to fabulous times." Some of these young heroes were very +near to her. Maj. William Dwight Sedgwick, who fell on the bloody +field of Antietam was her nephew, Gen. John Sedgwick, killed at the +battle of Spottsylvania, was her cousin.</p> + +<p>As she was not in the Anti-Slavery crusade, so she was not in the +Woman's Rights crusade. She wished women to have a larger sphere, and +she did much to enlarge the sphere of her sex, but it was by taking it +and making it, rather than by talking about it. "Your <em>might</em> must be +your <em>right</em>," she says in a chapter on The Rights of Women, in "Means +and Ends." Voting did not seem to her a function suited to women: "I +cannot believe it was ever intended that women should lead armies, +harangue in halls of legislation, bustle up to ballot-boxes, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> sit +on judicial tribunals." The gentle Lucy Stone would not have +considered this argument conclusive, but it satisfied Miss Sedgwick.</p> + +<p>In 1857, after a silence of twenty-two years, in which only short +stories and one or two biographies came from her hand, she published +another two-volume novel entitled, "Married or Single." It is perhaps +her best work; at least it has been so considered by many readers. She +was then sixty-seven and, though she had ten more years to live, they +were years of declining power. These last years were spent at the home +of her favorite niece, Mrs. William Minot, Jr., in West Roxbury, +Mass., and there tenderly and reverently cared for, she died in 1867.</p> + +<p>Bryant, who was her life-long friend, and who, at her instance wrote +some of his hymns, gives this estimate of her character: "Admirable as +was her literary life, her home life was more so; and beautiful as +were the examples set forth in her writings, her own example was, if +possible, still more beautiful. Her unerring sense of rectitude, her +love of truth, her ready sympathy, her active and cheerful +beneficence, her winning and gracious manners, the perfection of high +breeding, make up a character, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]<br />[Pg 40]</a></span> idea of which, as it rests in my +mind, I would not exchange for anything in her own interesting works +of fiction."</p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]<br />[Pg 42]<br />[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_II" id="Chapter_II"></a>II<br /><br /> +MARY LOVELL WARE</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;"> +<img src="images/ware.jpg" width="437" height="500" alt="MARY LOVELL WARE" title="MARY LOVELL WARE" /> +<span class="caption">MARY LOVELL WARE</span> +</div> + +<p>Of all the saints in the calendar of the Church there is no name more +worthy of the honor than that of Mary Lovell Ware. The college of +cardinals, which confers the degree of sainthood for the veneration of +faithful Catholics, will never recognize her merits and encircle her +head with a halo, but when the list of Protestant saints is made up, +the name of Mary L. Ware will be in it, and among the first half dozen +on the scroll.</p> + +<p>The writer was a student in the Divinity School at Cambridge when a +classmate commended to him the Memoirs of Mrs. Ware as one of the few +model biographies. It was a book not laid down in the course of study; +its reading was postponed for that convenient season for which one +waits so long; but he made a mental note of the "Memoirs of Mary L. +Ware," which many years did not efface. There is a book one must read, +he said to himself, if he would die happy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ware's maiden name was Pickard. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> the end of her days, when she +put herself in a pillory as she often did, she called herself by her +maiden name. "That," she would say, "was Mary Pickard." I infer that +she thought Mary Pickard had been a very bad girl.</p> + +<p>Her mother's name was Lovell,—Mary Lovell,—granddaughter of "Master +Lovell," long known as a classical teacher in colonial Boston, and +daughter of James Lovell, an active Revolutionist, a prominent member +of the Continental Congress and, from the end of the war to his death, +Naval officer in the Boston Custom House. Mr. Lovell had eight sons, +one of whom was a successful London merchant, and one daughter, who +remained with her parents until at twenty-five she married Mr. Pickard +and who, when her little girl was five years old returned, as perhaps +an only daughter should, to take care of her parents in their old age. +So it happened that the childhood of Mrs. Ware was passed at her +grandfather Lovell's, in Pearl St., Boston, then an eligible place of +residence.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pickard was an Englishman by birth, and a merchant with business +connections in London and Boston, between which cities, for a time, +his residence alternated. Not much is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> said of him in the Memoirs, +beyond the fact that he was an Episcopalian with strong attachment to +the forms of his church, as an Englishman might be expected to be.</p> + +<p>Of Mrs. Pickard we learn more. She is said to have possessed a +vigorous mind, to have been well educated and a fine +conversationalist, with a commanding figure, benignant countenance, +and dignified demeanor, so that one said of her, "She seems to have +been born for an empress." Like her husband she was an Episcopalian +though, according to the Memoirs, less strenuously Episcopalian than +Mr. Pickard. She had been reared in a different school. Her +father,—Mr. James Lovell—we are told, was a free-thinker, or as the +Memoirs put it, "had adopted some infidel principles," and "treated +religion with little respect in his family." The "infidels" of that +day were generally good men, only they were not orthodox. Jefferson, +Madison, Franklin and Washington were such infidels. After Channing's +day, this kind of man here in New England was absorbed by the +Unitarian movement, and, as a separate class, disappeared. Mrs. +Pickard was bred in this school and she appears never to have +forgotten her home training. "She was unosten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>tatious and charitable," +says an early friend, "and her whole life was an exhibition of the +ascendency of <em>principle</em> over mere taste and feeling."</p> + +<p>Her religious attitude becomes interesting, because in an exceptional +degree, she formed her remarkable daughter,—who was an only child and +until the age of thirteen had no teacher except this forceful and +level-headed mother.</p> + +<p>With these antecedents, Mary Lovell Pickard was born in Boston, +October 2, 1798, John Adams being then President. In 1802, Mary having +passed her third summer, Mr. Pickard's business called him to London, +where he resided with his family two years, so that the child's fifth +birthday was duly celebrated in mid-ocean on the homeward voyage. In a +letter of Mrs. Pickard, written during this London residence, she +says, "Mr. Pickard is even more anxious than I to go home. Mary is the +only contented one. She is happy all the time." There is so much that +is sad in this record that, before we have done, the reader will be +glad the little girl had at least a bright and sunny childhood to +remember. It appears she did remember it. It may not be remarkable, +but it is interesting, that the experiences of this early London +life,—be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>tween her third and fifth year,—made an indelible +impression upon her, so that twenty years later when she was again in +England, much to her own delight, she "recognized her old London home +and other objects with which she was then familiar."</p> + +<p>A lady who was a fellow passenger of the Pickards on their homeward +voyage was struck by the gentle management of the mother and the easy +docility of the child. To say, "It will make me unhappy if you do +that," was an extreme exercise of maternal authority, to which the +child yielded unresisting obedience. This, of course, is told to the +credit of the child, but the merit, probably belongs to the mother. +Doubtless we could all have such children if we were that kind of a +parent. A little tact, unfailing gentleness, and an infinite self +control: with these, it would seem one may smile and kiss a child into +an angel.</p> + +<p>On arriving in Boston, Mrs. Pickard took her family to her father's, +where she remained until her death, and where, we read, "with parents +and grandparents, Mary found a home whose blessings filled her heart." +Being an only child, with four elderly persons, Mary was likely to be +too much petted or too much fret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>ted. We are glad to know that she was +not fretted or over-trained. In a letter of retrospect, she writes, +"For many years a word of blame never reached my ears." An early +friend of the family writes, "It has been said that Mary was much +indulged; and I believe it may be said so with truth. But she was not +indulged in idleness, selfishness, and rudeness; she was indulged in +healthful sports, in pleasant excursions, and in companionship with +other children."</p> + +<p>Everything went smoothly with her until the age of ten when, rather +earlier than most children, she discovered her conscience: "At ten +years of age I waked up to a sense of the danger of the state of +indulgence in which I was living"; but let us hope the crisis was not +acute. It does not seem to have been. According to the testimony of +her first teacher, she was simply precocious morally, but not at all +morbid. Her school was at Hingham, whither she was sent at the age of +thirteen. The teacher says that with her "devotedness to the highest +objects and purposes of our existence, she was one of the most lively +and playful girls among her companions, and a great favorite with them +all."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>There seems to have been really no cloud upon her existence up to this +point,—the age of thirteen. I have had a reason for dwelling upon +this charming period of her childhood, untroubled by a cloud, because +from this date until her death, the hand of God seems to have been +very heavy upon her, afflictions fell upon her like rain, and it +required a brave spirit to carry the burdens appointed for her to +bear. Happily, she had a brave spirit, did not know that her life was +hard, "gloried in tribulation," like St. Paul, and was never more +cheerful or thankful than when she was herself an invalid, with an +invalid husband to be cared for like a baby, seven children to be +clothed and fed, and not enough money at the year's end to square +accounts. Ruskin tells of a servant who had served his mother +faithfully fifty-seven years. "She had," he says, "a natural gift and +specialty for doing disagreeable things; above all, the service of the +sick-room; so that she was never quite in her glory unless some of us +were ill." It will be seen further on that these were only a part of +the accomplishments of Mrs. Ware. It is fortunate if a woman is so +made that her spirits rise as her troubles thicken, but the reader of +the story will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> thankful that her life was not all a battle, that +her childhood was more than ordinarily serene and sunny, and that not +for a dozen years at least, did she have to be a heroine in order to +be happy.</p> + +<p>Mary had been in Hingham about half a year, enjoying her school-girl +life, when her mother was taken ill, fatally ill as it proved, and the +child, then at the age of thirteen, was called home and installed in +the sick-room as nurse. This was the beginning of sorrow. The mother +lingered through the winter and died in the following May. There +remained of the family, the grandparents, one son of fine talents, but +of unfortunate habits, and her father, "broken in spirits and in +fortune, clinging to his only child with doting and dependent +affection." We can see that it could not have been a cheerful home for +a young girl of thirteen. Some thirty years later, she wrote to one of +her children, "I think I have felt the want all my life of a more +cheerful home in my early childhood, a fuller participation in the +pleasures and 'follies' of youth." I put this reflection here, because +it does not apply to the years preceding the loss of her mother while +it exactly fits the period that now follows.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>The year following her mother's death, Mary attended a girls' school +in Boston. A passage from a letter written at this period will show +something of her quality. It is dated February 27, 1813, when she was +fourteen and a few months. Besides, she had been at school, six months +at a time, a total of about one year. She had been mentioning two or +three novels, and then discourses as follows: "Novels are generally +supposed to be improper books for young people, as they take up the +time which ought to be employed in more useful pursuits; which is +certainly very true; but as a recreation to the mind, such books as +these cannot possibly do any hurt, as they are good moral lessons. +Indeed, I think there is scarcely any book from which some good may +not be derived; though it cannot be expected that any young person has +judgment enough to leave all the bad and take only the good, when +there is a great proportion of the former." Perhaps I am wrong in +thinking this an exhibition of remarkable reflection and expression in +a girl well under fifteen, whether she had been at school or +otherwise. Mrs. Ware was always a wonderful letter-writer, though, if +we take her word for it, she had little of her mother's gift as a +conversa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>tionalist. It seems to have been a life-long habit to see the +old year out and the new year in, spending the quiet hours in writing +letters to her friends. In one of these anniversary letters, written +when she was fifteen, she says, "I defy anyone to tell from my +appearance that I have not everything to make me happy. I have much +and am happy. My little trials are essential to my happiness." In that +last sentence we have the entire woman. Her trials were always, as she +thought, essential to her happiness.</p> + +<p>On this principle, her next twelve years ought to have been very +happy, since they were sufficiently full of tribulation. The two years +following her mother's death, passed in the lonely home in Boston, +were naturally depressing. Besides, she was born for religion, and the +experience through which she had passed had created a great hunger in +her soul. Trinity Church, into which she had been baptized, had not +yet passed through the hands of Phillips Brooks, and its +ministrations, admirable as they are for the ordinary child, were +inadequate for the wants of a thoughtful girl like Mary Pickard. The +final effect was, she says, to throw her more upon herself and to +compel her to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> seek, "by reading, meditation and prayer, to find that +knowledge and stimulus to virtue which I failed to find in the +ministrations of the Sabbath."</p> + +<p>At this critical period, she returned to the school at Hingham, which +she had left two years before, and there, in the Third Church, then +presided over by Rev. Henry Colman, one of the fathers of the +Unitarian heresy, she found peace and satisfaction to her spirit. Ten +years later, she spent a week in Hingham, visiting friends and +reviving, as she says, the memory of the "first awakening of my mind +to high and holy thoughts and resolves." The crisis which, elsewhere, +we read of at the age of ten, was a subordinate affair. This Hingham +experience, at the age of sixteen, was really the moral event in her +history.</p> + +<p>As hers was a type of religion,—she would have said "piety",—a blend +of reason and sentiment, peculiar to the Unitarianism of that +generation, hardly to be found in any household of faith to-day, we +must let her disclose her inner consciousness. One Saturday morning, +she writes a long letter to one of her teachers saying that she feels +it a duty and a privilege "to be a member of the Church of Christ,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +but she fears she does not understand what the relation implies, and +says, "Tell me if you should consider it a violation of the sacredness +of the institution, to think I might with impunity be a member of it. +I am well aware of the condemnation denounced on those who <em>partake</em> +unworthily." She refers to the Lord's Supper. It is to be hoped that +her teacher knew enough to give the simple explanation of that dark +saying of the apostle about eating unworthily. At all events, she +connected herself with the church, received the communion, and was +very happy. "From the moment I had decided what to do, not a feeling +arose which I could wish to suppress; conscious of pure motives, all +within was calm, and I wondered how I could for a moment hesitate. +They were feelings I never before experienced, and for once I realized +that it is only when we are at peace with ourselves that we can enjoy +true happiness.... I could not sleep, and actually laid awake all +night out of pure happiness."</p> + +<p>After a few months, sooner than she expected, she returns to Boston +and sits under the ministrations of Dr. Channing, to her an object of +veneration. She writes that her heart is too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> full for utterance: "It +will not surprise you that Mr. Channing's sermons are the cause; but +no account that I could give could convey any idea of them. You have +heard some of the same class; they so entirely absorb the feelings as +to render the mind incapable of action, and consequently leave on the +memory at times no distinct impression." I should like to quote all +she says of Channing, both as a revelation of him, and of herself. She +heard him read the psalm, "What shall I render unto God for all his +mercies?" and says, "The ascription of praise which followed was more +truly sublime than anything I ever heard or read." It must have been +an event,—it certainly was for her,—to listen to one of Dr. +Channing's prayers: "It seems often to me, while in the hour of prayer +I give myself up to the thought of heaven, as though I had in reality +left the world, and was enjoying what is promised to the Christian. I +fear, however, these feelings are too often delusive; we substitute +the love of holiness for the actual possession."</p> + +<p>There her sanity comes in to check her emotionalism. She is reflecting +upon another experience with Dr. Channing when she comes very near +making a criticism upon him. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> tells us that she does not mean him; +he is excepted from these remarks, but she says, "There are few +occasions which will authorize a minister to excite the feelings of an +audience in a very great degree, and none which can make it allowable +for him to rest in mere excitement." To complete the portraiture of +her soul, I will take a passage from a letter written at the age of +twenty-five, when death has at last stripped her of all her family, "I +believe that all events that befall us are exactly such as are best +adapted to improve us; and I find in a perfect confidence in the +wisdom and love which I know directs them, a source of peace which no +other thing can give; and in the difficulty which I find in acting +upon this belief I see a weakness of nature, which those very trials +are designed to assist us in overcoming, and which trial alone can +conquer."</p> + +<p>Mary Pickards were not common even in that generation, but this creed +was then common, and this blend of reason and religious feeling, +fearlessly called "piety," was characteristic of Channing, her +teacher, and of Henry Ware, afterward her husband. It was the real +"Channing Unitarianism." Pity there is no more of it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>Mary was sixteen years old,—to be exact, sixteen and a half; the +serene and beautiful faith of Channing had done its perfect work upon +her; and she was now ready for whatever fate, or as she would have +said, Providence, might choose to send. It sent the business failure +of Mr. Pickard, in which not only his own fortune was swept away but +also the estate of Mr. Lovell was involved. Upon the knowledge of this +disaster, Mary wrote a cheerful letter, in which she said: "I should +be sorry to think you consider me so weak as to bend under a change of +fortune to which all are liable." Certainly she will not bend, but she +is obliged to quit school and return to the shattered home.</p> + +<p>Before the summer was over, her grandfather, Mr. Lovell, died; whether +the end was hastened by the financial embarrassments in which Mr. +Pickard had involved him, is not said. Mrs. Lovell, the grandmother, +followed her husband in two years,—for Mary, two years of assiduous +nursing and tender care. Perhaps one sentence from a letter at this +time will assist us in picturing her in this exacting service. She +says that she is leading a monotonous existence, that her animal +spirits are not sufficient for both duty and solitude, "And when +evening closes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> and my beloved charge is laid peacefully to rest, +excitement ceases, and I am thrown on myself for pleasure."</p> + +<p>With the death of the grandmother, the home was broken up, and Mary, +trying to help her father do a little business without capital, went +to New York city as his commercial agent. Her letters to her father +are "almost exclusively business letters," and he on his part gives +her "directions for the sale and purchase, not only of muslins and +moreens, but also of skins, saltpetre, and the like."</p> + +<p>Details of this period of her career are not abundant in the Memoirs, +and the death of her father, in 1823, put an end to her business +apprenticeship.</p> + +<p>Apparently, she was not entirely destitute. At the time of his +disaster, her father wrote, "As we calculated you would, after some +time, have enough to support yourself, without mental or bodily +exertion." That is, presumably, after the settlement of her +grandfather's estate. As her biographer says, "Every member of her own +family had gone, and she had smoothed the passage of everyone." But +she had many friends, and one is tempted to say, Pity she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> could not +have settled down in cozy quarters and made herself comfortable.</p> + +<p>Indeed she did make a fair start. She joined a couple of friends, +going abroad in search of health, for a visit to England. She had +relatives on the Lovell side, in comfortable circumstances near +London, and an aunt on her father's side, in the north of England, in +straightened circumstances. She resolved to make the acquaintance of +all these relatives.</p> + +<p>The party arrived in Liverpool in April, 1824, and for a year and a +half, during which their headquarters were in London, Paris was +visited, Southern England and Wales were explored, and finally the +Lovell relatives were visited and found to have good hearts and open +arms. For these eighteen months, Mary Pickard's friends could have +wished her no more delightful existence. She had tea with Mrs. +Barbauld, heard Irving, then the famous London preacher, and saw other +interesting persons and charming things in England. There is material +for a very interesting chapter upon this delightful experience. It was +followed by a drama of misery and horror, in which she was both +spectator and actor, when young and old died around her as if smitten +by pestilence, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> her own vigorous constitution was irreparably +broken.</p> + +<p>This episode was vastly more interesting to her than the pleasant +commonplace of travel, and much more in keeping with what seems to +have been her destiny. In the autumn of her second year abroad, she +went to discover her aunt, sister of Mr. Pickard, in Yorkshire. The +writer of the Memoirs says that this visit "forms the most remarkable +and in some respects the most interesting and important chapter of her +life." She found her aunt much better than she expected, nearly +overpowered with joy to see her, living in a little two story cottage +of four rooms, which far exceeded anything she ever saw for neatness. +The village bore the peculiarly English name of Osmotherly, and was +the most primitive place she had ever been in. The inhabitants were +all of one class and that the poorer class of laborers, ignorant as +possible, but simple and sociable. Terrible to relate, smallpox, +typhus fever, and whooping cough were at that moment epidemic in that +village.</p> + +<p>It will be impossible to put the situation before us more briefly than +by quoting a passage from one of her letters: "My aunt's two daughters +are married and live in this village;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> one of them, with three +children, has a husband at the point of death with a fever; his +brother died yesterday of smallpox, and two of her children have the +whooping-cough; added to this, their whole dependence is upon their +own exertions, which are of course entirely stopped now.... You may +suppose, under such a state of things, I shall find enough to do."</p> + +<p>The death of the husband, whom of course Miss Pickard nursed through +his illness, is reported in the next letter, which contains also this +characteristic statement, "It seems to me that posts of difficulty are +my appointed lot and my element, for I do feel lighter and happier +when I have difficulties to overcome. Could you look in upon me you +would think it impossible that I could be even tolerably comfortable, +and yet I am cheerful, and get along as easily as possible, and am in +truth happy."</p> + +<p>Evidently, all we can do with such a person is to congratulate her +over the most terrible experiences. In a letter five days later, the +baby dies of whooping-cough, and in her arms; a fortnight later, the +mother dies of typhus fever; within another month, two boys, now +orphans, are down with the same fever at once, and one of them dies. +In the space of eight weeks, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> saw five persons of one family +buried, and four of them she had nursed. By this time, the aunt was +ill, and Miss Pickard nursed her to convalescence.</p> + +<p>This campaign had lasted three months, and she left the scene of +combat with a clear conscience. She was allowed a breathing spell of a +month in which to visit some pleasant friends and recuperate her +strength, when we find her back in Osmotherly again nursing her aunt. +It was the end of December and she was the only servant in the house. +Before this ordeal was over, she was taken ill herself, and had to be +put to bed and nursed. In crossing a room, a cramp took her; she fell +on the floor, lay all night in the cold, calling in vain for +assistance. She did not finally escape from these terrible scenes +until the end of January, five months from the time she entered them.</p> + +<p>Miss Pickard returned to Boston after an absence of about two years +and a half, during which time, as one of her friends wrote her, "You +have passed such trying scenes, have so narrowly escaped, and done +more, much more, than almost any body ever did before." She went away +a dear school-girl friend and a valued acquaintance; she was welcomed +home as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> a martyr fit to be canonized, and was received as a +conquering heroine.</p> + +<p>In a letter dated from Gretna Green, where so many run-away lovers +have been made happy, she playfully reflects upon the possibilities of +her visit, if only she had a lover, and concludes that she "must +submit to single blessedness a little longer." Our sympathies would +have been less taxed if she had submitted to single blessedness to the +end. Why could she not now be quiet, let well enough alone, and make +herself comfortable? Destiny had apparently ordered things for her +quite differently. One cannot avoid his destiny, and it was her +destiny to marry, and marriage was to bring her great happiness, +tempered by great sorrows.</p> + +<p>The man who was to share her happiness and her sorrows was Rev. Henry +Ware, Jr., then the almost idolized minister of the Second Church, in +Boston. Mr. Ware was the son of another Henry Ware, professor of +theology at Harvard, whose election to the chair of theology in 1806 +opened the great Unitarian controversy. Two sons of Professor Ware +entered the ministry, Henry and William, the latter the first +Unitarian minister settled in New York city. Rev. John F. Ware, well +remembered as pastor of Arling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>ton St. Church in Boston, was the son +of Henry, so that for more than half a century, the name of Ware was a +great factor in Unitarian history.</p> + +<p>After Dr. Channing, Henry Ware was perhaps the most popular preacher +in any Boston pulpit. One sermon preached by him on a New Year's eve, +upon the Duty of Improvement, became memorable. In spite of a violent +snow storm, the church was filled to overflowing, a delegation coming +from Cambridge. Of this sermon, a hearer said: "No words from mortal +lips ever affected me like those." There was a difference between +Unitarian preaching then and now. That famous sermon closed like this: +"I charge you, as in the presence of God, who sees and will judge +you,—in the name of Jesus Christ, who beseeches you to come to him +and live,—by all your hopes of happiness and life,—I charge you let +not this year die, and leave you impenitent. Do not dare to utter +defiance in its decaying hours. But, in the stillness of its awful +midnight, prostrate yourselves penitently before your Maker; and let +the morning sun rise upon you, thoughtful and serious men." One does +not see how the so-called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> 'Evangelicals' could have quarreled with +that preaching.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ware had been in his parish nine years, his age was thirty-two, he +was in the prime of life, and at the climax of his power and his +popularity. Three years before, he had been left a widower with three +young children, one of whom became Rev. John F. Ware. That these two +intensely religious natures, that of Mary Pickard and that of Henry +Ware, should have been drawn together is not singular. In writing to +his sister, Mr. Ware speaks tenderly of his late wife and says, "I +have sought for the best mother to her children, and the best I have +found." Late in life, one of these children said, "Surely God never +gave a boy such a mother or a man such a friend."</p> + +<p>Miss Pickard engaged to be a very docile wife. "Instead of the +self-dependent self-governed being you have known me," she writes to a +friend, "I have learned to look to another for guidance and +happiness." She is "as happy as mortal can be." Indeed it was almost +too much for earth. "It has made me," she says, "more willing to leave +the world and enjoy the happiness of heaven than I ever thought I +should be. Strange that a thing from which of all others,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> I should +have expected the very opposite effect, should have done this."</p> + +<p>The year following the marriage of these saintly lovers,—one can call +them nothing less,—was one of exceeding happiness and of immense +activity to both. It is not said, but we can see that each must have +been a tonic to the other. Considerate persons felt a scruple about +taking any of the time of their pastor's wife. "Mrs. Ware," said one, +"at home and abroad, is the busiest woman of my acquaintance," and +others felt that way. Before the year ended, Mrs. Ware had a boy baby +of her own to increase her occupations and her happiness. It lived a +few bright years, long enough to become a very attractive child and to +give a severe wrench to her heart when it left her. This experience +seems to have a certain fitness in a life in which every joy was to +bring sorrow and every sorrow, by sheer will, was to be turned to joy.</p> + +<p>Of Mr. Ware, it is said that this first year "was one of the most +active and also, to all human appearance, one of the most successful +of his ministry." He put more work into his sermons, gave increased +attention to the details of his parish, delivered a course of +lectures, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> undertook other enterprises, some of which are +specified; and, during a temporary absence of Mrs. Ware, wrote her +that he had hoped he had turned over a new leaf, "but by foolish +degrees, I have got back to all my accustomed carelessness and waste +of powers, and am doing nothing in proportion to what I ought to do."</p> + +<p>But man is mortal, and there is a limit to human endurance. Mr. Ware +could not lash himself into greater activity; but he was in good +condition to be ill. In a journey from Northampton, he was prostrated +by inflammation of the lungs, with hemorrhages, and after several +weeks, Mrs. Ware, herself far from well, went to him and finally +brought him home. This was the beginning of what became a very regular +annual experience. I met a lady who was brought up on the Memoirs of +Mary L. Ware, and who briefly put what had impressed her most, in this +way: She said, "It seemed as though Mr. Ware was always going off on a +journey for his health, and that Mrs. Ware was always going after him +to bring him home"; if we remember this statement, and add the fact +that these calls came more than once when Mrs. Ware was on the sick +list herself, we shall be able greatly to shorten our history.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>This was the end of Mr. Ware's parish work. He was nursed through the +winter and, in early spring, Mrs. Ware left her baby and took her +invalid husband abroad, in pursuit of health, spending a year and a +half in England, Holland, Switzerland, and Italy. It was, she +afterward said, the most trying period of her life. Mr. Ware +alternated between being fairly comfortable and very miserable, so +that these Memoirs say "He enjoyed much, but suffered more." Still the +travels would be interesting if we had time to follow them.</p> + +<p>Near the close of the first year abroad, Mrs. Ware's second child was +born in Rome, and, although this was as she would have said, +"providential," never was a child less needed in a family. Mrs. Ware +had then two babies on her hands, and of these, her invalid husband +was the greater care. In the following August, Mrs. Ware arrived in +Boston with her double charge, and had the happiness to know that Mr. +Ware was somewhat better in health than when he left home, a year and +a half before.</p> + +<p>His parish, during his absence, had been in the care of a colleague, +no other than the Rev. Ralph Waldo Emerson. If you remember the New +Year's Eve sermon of Mr. Ware, it will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> evident that he must have +left behind him a very conservative parish, and you will not be +surprised that in about four years, Mr. Emerson found his chains +intolerable.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ware had been invited to a professorship in the Harvard Divinity +School, and it was to this and not to his parish that he returned. For +the steady, one might say monotonous, duties of his professorship, Mr. +Ware's health was generally sufficient. The lecture room did not exact +the several hundred parish calls then demanded by a large city church, +nor the exhausting effort which Mr. Ware and Dr. Channing put into the +delivery of a sermon; and the lectures, once prepared, could be +delivered and re-delivered from year to year. Real leisure was +impossible to one of Mr. Ware's temperament, but here was a life of +comparative leisure; and for Mrs. Ware, who shared all the joys and +sorrows of her husband, the twelve years that follow brought a settled +existence and very much happiness. Neither her own health nor that of +her husband was ever very firm, and there was always a great emptiness +in the family purse, but with Mrs. Ware, these were, as with Paul, +"light afflictions" which were but for a mo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>ment, and she did not let +them disturb her happiness.</p> + +<p>Impossible as it may seem, they contributed to her happiness. She made +them contribute to it. She says in a letter of 1831, "Of my winter's +sickness I cannot write; it contained a long life of enjoyment, and +what I hoped would be profitable thought and reflection." She repeats +this statement to another correspondent, and says, with apparent +regret, that the illness did not bring her "to that cheerful +willingness to resign my life, after which I strove." You cannot send +this woman any trial which she will not welcome, because she wants to +be made to want to go to heaven, and she is as yet not quite ready for +it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ware has been dangerously ill, and of course she could not spare +herself for heaven until he recovered, but this trial did something +quite as good for her: "My husband's danger renewed the so oft +repeated testimony that strength is ever at hand for those who need +it, gave me another exercise of trust in that mighty arm which can +save to the uttermost, and in its result is a new cause for gratitude +to Him who has so abundantly blessed me all the days of my life." It +is good to see what the old-fashioned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> doctrine that God really is, +and is good, did for one who actually believed.</p> + +<p>That first baby, whom she left behind when she went abroad with her +invalid husband, died in 1831; the mother fainted when the last breath +left the little body; but this is the way she writes of it: "I have +always looked upon the death of children rather as a subject of joy +than sorrow, and have been perplexed at seeing so many, who would bear +what seemed to me much harder trials with firmness, so completely +overwhelmed by this, as is frequently the case."</p> + +<p>After that, one is almost ashamed to mention the trifle that the +income of this family was very small. Mr. Ware, after 1834 <em>Dr.</em> Ware, +held a new professorship, the endowment of which was yet mostly +imaginary. The social demands took no account of the family income; +the unexpected guest always dropping in; at certain times, it is said, +"shoals of visitors;" and the larder always a little scantily +furnished. If one wants to know how one ought to live under such +circumstances, here is your shining example. "There were no apologies +at that table," we are told. "If unexpected guests were not always +filled, they were never annoyed, nor suffered to think much about it." +"I remember," says a guest,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> "the wonder I felt at her humility and +dignity in welcoming to her table on some occasion a troop of +accidental guests, when she had almost nothing to offer but her +hospitality. The absence of all apologies and of all mortification, +the ease and cheerfulness of the conversation, which became the only +feast, gave me a lesson never forgotten, although never learned."</p> + +<p>The problem of dress was as simple to Mrs. Ware as was the +entertainment of her guests. "As to her attire," says an intimate +friend, "we should say no one thought of it at all, because of its +simplicity, and because of her ease of manners and dignity of +character. Yet the impression is qualified, though in one view +confirmed, by hearing that, in a new place of residence, so plain was +her appearance on all occasions, the villagers suspected her of +reserving her fine clothes for some better class." There are those who +might consider these circumstances, very sore privations. What Mrs. +Ware says of them is, "I have not a word of complaint to make. We are +far better provided for than is necessary to our happiness." I am +persuaded that this is an immensely wholesome example and that more of +this kind of woman is needed to mother the children of our generation. +In a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> letter to one of her daughters, she says she has great sympathy +with the struggles of young people, that she had struggles too and +learned her lessons young, that she found very early in life that her +own position was not in the least affected by these externals, "I soon +began to look upon my oft-turned dress with something like pride, +certainly with great complacency; and to see in that and all other +marks of my mother's prudence and consistency, only so many proofs of +her dignity and self-respect,—the dignity and self-respect which grew +out of her just estimate of the true and the right in herself and in +the world."</p> + +<p>We have seen enough of this woman to discover that she could not be +made unhappy, and also to discover why. It was because her nature was +so large and strong and fine. Sometimes she thinks Dr. Ware would be +better and happier in a parish, "But I have no care about the future +other than that which one must have,—a desire to fulfil the duties +which it may bring." Surely that is being,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Self-poised and independent still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On this world's varying good or ill."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In 1842, Dr. Ware's health became so much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> impaired that Mrs. Ware +entertains an unfulfilled desire. It is to get away from Cambridge, +which had become so dear to them all. "I scruple not to say that a +ten-foot house, and bread and water diet, with a sense of rest to +<em>him</em>, would be a luxury." The family removed to Framingham, where Dr. +Ware died, a year later. Whatever tribulations might be in store for +Mrs. Ware, anxiety on his account was not to be one of them.</p> + +<p>Death came on Friday; on Sunday, Mrs. Ware attended church with all +her family, and the occasion must have been more trying for the +minister who preached to her than for herself. A short service was +held that Sunday evening at six, and "Then," she says, "John and I +brought dear father's body to Cambridge in our own carriage; we could +not feel willing to let strangers do anything in connection with him +which we could do ourselves." Think of that dark, silent lonely ride +from Framingham to Cambridge! But here was a woman who did not spare +herself, and did not ask what somebody would think of her doings.</p> + +<p>After this event, the Memoirs tell us that a gentleman in Milton gave +her a very earnest invitation to go there and take the instruction of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +three little children in connection with her own. In this occupation +she spent six years of great outward comfort and usefulness. There is +much in these years, or in the letters of these years, of great +interest and moral beauty. Even with young children to leave, she +speaks of death as serenely as she would of going to Boston. "I do not +feel that I am essential to my children. I do not feel that I am +competent to train them."</p> + +<p>Of her last illness, one of her children wrote, "Never did a sick room +have less of the odor of sickness than that. It was the brightest spot +on earth." "Come with a <em>smile</em>," she said to a friend whom she had +summoned for a last farewell, and so went this remarkable and +exceptionally noble woman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]<br />[Pg 78]<br />[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_III" id="Chapter_III"></a>III<br /><br /> +LYDIA MARIA CHILD</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 438px;"> +<img src="images/child.jpg" width="438" height="500" alt="LYDIA MARIA CHILD" title="LYDIA MARIA CHILD" /> +<span class="caption">LYDIA MARIA CHILD</span> +</div> + +<p>In the second quarter of the nineteenth century, few names in American +literature were more conspicuous than that of Lydia Maria Child, and +among those few, if we except that of Miss Sedgwick, there was +certainly no woman's name. Speaking with that studied reserve which +became its dignity, the <em>North American Review</em> said of her: "We are +not sure that any woman of our country could outrank Mrs. Child. This +lady has been before the public as an author with much success. And +she well deserves it, for in all her works, nothing can be found which +does not commend itself by its tone of healthy morality and good +sense. Few female writers if any have done more or better things for +our literature in the lighter or graver departments."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Child began her literary career in 1824 with "Hobomok, a Tale of +Early Times," and she closed it with a volume of biography, entitled +"Good Wives," in 1871. Between these two dates, covering forty-seven +years, her publications extended to more than thirty titles, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +include stories, poems, biographies, studies in history, in household +economics, in politics, and in religion. "Her books," says Col. +Higginson, "never seemed to repeat each other and belonged to almost +as many different departments as there are volumes"; and while writing +so much, he adds, "she wrote better than most of her contemporaries."</p> + +<p>If she had not done many things so well, she would still have the +distinction of having done several things the first time they were +ever done at all. It has been claimed that she edited the first +American magazine for children, wrote the first novel of puritan +times, published the first American Anti-Slavery book, and compiled +the first treatise upon what is now known as "Comparative Religions," +a science not then named, but now a department in every school of +theology.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Child's maiden name was Francis, and under that name she won her +first fame. She was born in Medford, Mass., Feb. 11, 1802. Her father, +Convers Francis, is said to have been a worthy and substantial +citizen, a baker by trade, and the author of the "Medford Crackers," +in their day second only in popularity to "Medford Rum." He was a man +of strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> character, great industry, uncommon love of reading, +zealous anti-slavery convictions, generous and hospitable. All these +traits were repeated in his famous daughter. It was the custom of Mr. +Francis, on the evening before Thanksgiving to gather in his +dependents and humble friends to the number of twenty or thirty, and +feast them on chicken pie, doughnuts and other edibles, sending them +home with provisions for a further festival, including "turnovers" for +the children. Col. Higginson, who had the incident from Mrs. Child, +intimates that in this experience she may have discovered how much +more blessed it is to give than to receive. Certainly, in later life, +she believed and practiced this doctrine like a devotee.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Child began to climb the hill of knowledge under the instruction +of a maiden lady known as "Ma'am Betty," who kept school in her +bedroom which was never in order, drank from the nose of her +tea-kettle, chewed tobacco and much of it, and was shy to a degree +said to have been "supernatural," but she knew the way to the hearts +of children, who were very fond of her and regularly carried her a +Sunday dinner. After "Ma'am Betty," Mrs. Child at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>tended the public +schools in Medford and had a year at a Medford private seminary.</p> + +<p>These opportunities for education were cut off at the age of twelve +apparently by some change in the family fortunes which compelled the +removal of Maria to Norridgewock, Maine, on the borders of the great +northern wilderness, where a married sister was living. An influence +to which she gave chief credit for her intellectual development and +which was not wholly cut off by this removal was that of Convers +Francis, her favorite brother, next older than herself, afterward +minister in Watertown, and professor in the Divinity School of Harvard +University. In later life, Dr. Francis was an encyclopedia of +information and scholarship, very liberal in his views for the time. +Theodore Parker used to head pages in his journal with, "Questions to +ask Dr. Francis."</p> + +<p>Dr. Francis began to prepare for college when Mrs. Child was nine +years old. Naturally the little girl wanted to read the books which +her brother read, and sometimes he seems to have instructed her and +sometimes he tantalized her, but always he stimulated her. Years +afterward she wrote him gratefully, "To your early influence, by +conversation, letters, and example I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> owe it that my busy energies +took a literary direction at all."</p> + +<p>Norridgewock, her home from her twelfth to her eighteenth year, was +and is a very pretty country village, at that era the residence of +some very cultivated families, but hardly an educational center. As we +hear nothing of schools either there or elsewhere we are led to +suppose that this twelve year old girl had finished her education. If +she lacked opportunities for culture, she carried with her a desire +for it, which is half the battle, and she had the intellectual +stimulus of letters from her brother then in college, who seems to +have presided over her reading. What we know of her life at this +period is told in her letters to this brother.</p> + +<p>The first of these letters which the editors let us see was written at +the age of fifteen. "I have," she says, "been busily engaged reading +Paradise Lost. Homer hurried me along with rapid impetuosity; every +passion that he portrayed I felt; I loved, hated, and resented just as +he inspired me. But when I read Milton I felt elevated 'above this +visible, diurnal sphere.' I could not but admire such astonishing +grandeur of description, such heavenly sublimity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> style. Much as I +admire Milton, I must confess that Homer is a much greater favorite."</p> + +<p>It is not strange that a studious brother in college would take +interest in a sister who at the age of fifteen could write him with so +much intelligence and enthusiasm of her reading. The next letter is +two years later when she has been reading Scott. She likes Meg +Merrilies, Diana Vernon, Annot Lyle, and Helen Mac Gregor. She hopes +she may yet read Virgil in his own tongue, and adds, "I usually spend +an hour after I retire for the night in reading Gibbon's Roman Empire. +The pomp of his style at first displeased me, but I think him an able +historian."</p> + +<p>This is from a girl of seventeen living on the edge of the northern +wilderness, and she is also reading Shakspere. "What a vigorous grasp +of intellect," she says, "what a glow of imagination he must have +possessed, but when his fancy drops a little, how apt he is to make +low attempts at wit, and introduce a forced play upon words." She is +also reading the Spectator, and does not think Addison so good a +writer as Johnson, though a more polished one.</p> + +<p>What she was doing with her ever busy hands during this period we are +not told, but her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>tellectual life ran on in these channels until +she reaches the age of eighteen, when she is engaged to teach a school +in Gardiner, Maine, an event which makes her very happy. "I cannot +talk about books," she writes, "nor anything else until I tell you the +good news, that I leave Norridgewock as soon as the travelling is +tolerable and take a school in Gardiner." It is the terrible month of +March, for country roads in the far north, "the saddest of the year." +She wishes her brother were as happy as she is, though, "All I expect +is that, if I am industrious and prudent, I shall be independent."</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of her school, she took up her residence with her +brother in Watertown, Mass., where one year before, he had been +settled as minister of the first parish. Here a new career opened +before her. Whittier says that in her Norridgewock period, when she +first read Waverly at the house of her physician, she laid down the +book in great excitement, exclaiming, "Why cannot I write a novel?" +Apparently, she did not undertake the enterprise for two years or +more. In 1824, one Sunday after morning service, in her brother's +study, she read an article in the <em>North American Review</em>, in which it +was pointed out that there were great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> possibilities of romance in +early American history. Before the afternoon service, she had written +the first chapter of a novel which was published anonymously the same +year, under the title of "Hobomok: a Tale of Early Times."</p> + +<p>A search through half a dozen Antique Book stores in Boston for a copy +of this timid literary venture I have found to be fruitless, except +for the information that there is sometimes a stray copy in stock, and +that its present value is about three dollars. It is sufficient +distinction that it was the first attempt to extract a romantic +element from early New England history. Its reception by the public +was flattering to a young author. The Boston Athenæum sent her a +ticket granting the privileges of its library. So great and perhaps +unexpected had been its success that for several years, Mrs. Child's +books bore the signature, "By the author of Hobomok." Even "The Frugal +Housewife" was "By the author of Hobomok."</p> + +<p>In 1825, the author of Hobomok published her second novel, entitled, +"The Rebels: a Tale of the Revolution." It is a volume of about 300 +pages, and is still very readable. It ran rapidly through several +editions, and very much increased the reputation of the author of +Hobo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>mok. The work contains an imaginary speech of James Otis, in +which it is said, "England might as well dam up the Nile with +bulrushes as to fetter the step of Freedom, more proud and firm in +this youthful land than where she treads the sequestered glens of +Scotland or couches herself among the magnificent mountains of +Switzerland." This supposed speech of Otis soon found its way into the +School Readers of the day, as a genuine utterance of the Revolutionary +patriot, and as such Col. Higginson says he memorized and declaimed +it, in his youth.</p> + +<p>This literary success was achieved at the age of twenty-three, and the +same year Miss Francis opened a private school in Watertown, which she +continued three years, until her marriage gave her other occupations. +In 1826, she started <em>The Juvenile Miscellany</em>, as already mentioned, +said to be the first magazine expressly for children, in this country. +In it, first appeared many of her charming stories afterward gathered +up in little volumes entitled, "Flowers for Children."</p> + +<p>In 1828, she was married to Mr. David Lee Child, then 34 years of age, +eight years older than herself. Whittier describes him, as a young and +able lawyer, a member of the Massachusetts legislature, and editor of +the <em>Massachusetts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> Journal</em>. Mr. Child graduated at Harvard in 1817 +in the class with George Bancroft, Caleb Cushing, George B. Emerson, +and Samuel J. May. Between 1818 and 1824, he was in our diplomatic +service abroad under Hon. Alexander Everett, at that time, Chargé +d'Affaires in the Netherlands. On his return to America, Mr. Child +studied law in Watertown where, at the house of a mutual friend, he +met Miss Lydia Maria Francis. She herself reports this interesting +event under date of Dec. 2, 1824. "Mr. Child dined with us in +Watertown. He possesses the rich fund of an intelligent traveller, +without the slightest tinge of a traveller's vanity. Spoke of the +tardy improvement of the useful arts in Spain and Italy." Nearly two +months pass, when we have this record: "Jan. 26, 1825. Saw Mr. Child +at Mr. Curtis's. He is the most gallant man that has lived since the +sixteenth century and needs nothing but helmet, shield, and +chain-armor to make him a complete knight of chivalry." Not all the +meetings are recorded, for, some weeks later, "March 3," we have this +entry, "One among the many delightful evenings spent with Mr. Child. I +do not know which to admire most, the vigor of his understanding or +the ready sparkle of his wit."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>There can be no doubt that she thoroughly enjoyed these interviews, +and we shall have to discount the statement of any observer who +gathered a different impression. Mr. George Ticknor Curtis, at whose +home some of these interviews took place, was a boy of twelve, and may +have taken the play of wit between the parties too seriously. He says, +"At first Miss Francis did not like Mr. Child. Their intercourse was +mostly banter and mutual criticism. Observers said, 'Those two people +will end in marrying.' Miss Francis was not a beautiful girl in the +ordinary sense, but her complexion was good, her eyes were bright, her +mouth expressive and her teeth fine. She had a great deal of wit, +liked to use it, and did use it upon Mr. Child who was a frequent +visitor; but her deportment was always maidenly and lady-like."</p> + +<p>The engagement happened in this wise. Mr. Child had been admitted to +the bar and had opened an office in Boston. One evening about nine +o'clock he rode out to Watertown on horseback and called at the +Curtises' where Miss Francis then was. "My mother, who believed the +denouement had come," says Mr. Curtis, "retired to her chamber. Mr. +Child pressed his suit earnestly. Ten o'clock came, then eleven, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +twelve. The horse grew impatient and Mr. Child went out once or twice +to pacify him, and returned. At last, just as the clock was striking +one, he went. Miss Francis rushed into my mother's room and told her +she was engaged to Mr. Child."</p> + +<p>There are indications in this communication that Mr. Curtis did not +himself greatly admire Mr. Child and would not have married him, but +he concedes that, "Beyond all doubt, Mrs. Child was perfectly happy in +her relations with him, through their long life." After their +marriage, he says, they went to housekeeping in a "very small house in +Boston," where Mr. Curtis, then a youth of sixteen, visited them and +partook of a simple, frugal dinner which the lady cooked and served +with her own hands, and to which Mr. Child returned from his office, +"cheery and breezy," and we may hope the vivacity of the host may have +made up for the frugality of the entertainment.</p> + +<p>In "Letters from New York," written to the Boston <em>Courier</em>, she +speaks tenderly of her Boston home which she calls "Cottage Place" and +declares it the dearest spot on earth. I assume it was this "very +small house" where she began her married life, where she dined the +fastidious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> Mr. Curtis, and where she seems to have spent eight or +nine happy years. Her marriage brought her great happiness. A friend +says, "The domestic happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Child seemed to me +perfect. Their sympathies, their admiration of all things good, and +their hearty hatred of all things mean and evil, were in entire +unison. Mr. Child shared his wife's enthusiasms and was very proud of +her. Their affection, never paraded, was always manifest." After Mr. +Child's death, Mrs. Child said, "I believe a future life would be of +small value to me, if I were not united to him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Child was a man of fine intellect, with studious tastes and +habits, but there is too much reason to believe that his genius did +not lie in the management of practical life. Details of business were +apparently out of his sphere. "It was like cutting stones with a +razor," says one who knew him. "He was a visionary," says another, +"who always saw a pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow." This was a +kind of defect which, though it cost her dear, Mrs. Child, of all +persons, could most easily forgive. One great success he achieved: +that was in winning and keeping the heart of Mrs. Child. Their married +life seems to have been one long honey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>moon. "I always depended," she +says, "upon his richly stored mind, which was able and ready to +furnish needed information on any subject. He was my walking +dictionary of many languages, and my universal encyclopedia. In his +old age, he was as affectionate and devoted as when the lover of my +youth; nay, he manifested even more tenderness. He was often singing,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'There's nothing half so sweet in life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As love's <em>old</em> dream.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Very often, when he passed me, he would lay his hand softly on my head +and murmur 'Carum Caput.'... He never would see anything but the +bright side of my character. He always insisted upon thinking that +whatever I said was the wisest and whatever I did was the best."</p> + +<p>In the anti-slavery conflict, Mr. Child's name was among the earliest, +and at the beginning of the controversy, few were more prominent. In +1832, he published in Boston a series of articles upon slavery and the +slave-trade; in 1836, another series upon the same subject, in +Philadelphia; in 1837, an elaborate memoir upon the subject for an +anti-slavery society in France,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> and an able article in a <em>London +Review</em>. It is said that the speeches of John Quincy Adams in Congress +were greatly indebted to the writings of Mr. Child, both for facts and +arguments.</p> + +<p>Such, briefly, is the man with whom Mrs. Child is to spend forty-five +years of her useful and happy life. In 1829, the year after her +marriage, she put her twelve months of experience and reflection into +a book entitled, "The Frugal Housewife." "No false pride," she says, +"or foolish ambition to appear as well as others, should induce a +person to live a cent beyond the income of which he is assured." "We +shall never be free from embarrassment until we cease to be ashamed of +industry and economy." "The earlier children are taught to turn their +faculties to some account the better for them and for their parents." +"A child of six years is old enough to be made useful and should be +taught to consider every day lost in which some little thing has not +been done to assist others." We are told that a child can be taught to +braid straw for his hats or to make feather fans; the objection to +which would be that a modern mother would not let a child wear that +kind of hat nor carry the fan.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>The following will be interesting if not valuable: "Cheap as stockings +are, it is good economy to knit them; knit hose wear twice as long as +woven; and they can be done at odd moments of time which would not be +otherwise employed." What an age that must have been when one had time +enough and to spare! Other suggestions are quite as curious. The book +is "dedicated to those who are not ashamed of economy." "The writer," +she says, "has no apology to offer for this little book of economical +hints, except her deep conviction that such a book is needed. In this +case, renown is out of the question; and ridicule is a matter of +indifference."</p> + +<p>Goethe made poems of his chagrins; Mrs. Child in this instance +utilized her privations and forced economies to make a book; and a +wonderfully successful book it was. She was not wrong in supposing it +would meet a want. During the next seven years, it went through twenty +editions, or three editions a year; in 1855, it had reached its +thirty-third edition, averaging little short of one edition a year for +thirty-six years. Surely this was a result which made a year of +economical living in a "very small house" worth while.</p> + +<p>"The Frugal Housewife" was a true<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> "mother's book," although another +and later volume was so named. "The Mother's Book" was nearly as +successful as "The Frugal Housewife," and went through eight American +editions, twelve English, and one German. The success of these books +gave Mrs. Child a good income, and she hardly needed to be the "frugal +housewife" she had been before.</p> + +<p>A check soon came to her prosperity. In 1831, she met Garrison and, +being inflammable, caught fire from his anti-slavery zeal, and became +one of his earliest and staunchest disciples. The free use of the +Athenæum library which had been graciously extended to her ten years +before, now enabled her to study the subject of slavery in all its +aspects, historical, legal, theoretical, and practical and, in 1833, +she embodied the results of her investigations in a book entitled, "An +Appeal in behalf of the class of Americans called Africans." The +material is chiefly drawn from Southern sources, the statute books of +Southern states, the columns of Southern newspapers, and the +statements and opinions of Southern public men. It is an effective +book to read even now when one is in a mood to rose-color the old-time +plantation life and doubtful whether anything could be worse than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> the +present condition of the negro in the South.</p> + +<p>The book had two kinds of effect. It brought upon Mrs. Child the +incontinent wrath of all persons who, for any reason, thought that the +only thing to do with slavery was to let it alone. "A lawyer, +afterward attorney-general," a description that fits Caleb Cushing, is +said to have used tongs to throw the obnoxious book out of the window; +the Athenæum withdrew from Mrs. Child the privileges of its library; +former friends dropped her acquaintance; Boston society shut its doors +upon her; the sale of her books fell off; subscriptions to her +<em>Juvenile Miscellany</em> were discontinued; and the magazine died after a +successful life of eight years; and Mrs. Child found that she had +ventured upon a costly experiment. This consequence she had +anticipated and it had for her no terrors. "I am fully aware," she +says in her preface, "of the unpopularity of the task I have +undertaken; but though I expect ridicule, I do not fear it.... Should +it be the means of advancing even one single hour the inevitable +progress of truth and justice, I would not exchange the consciousness +for all Rothschild's wealth or Sir Walter's fame."</p> + +<p>Of course a book of such evident significance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> and power would have +had another effect; by his own acknowledgement, it brought Dr. +Channing into the anti-slavery crusade, and he published a book upon +slavery in 1835; it led Dr. John G. Palfry, who had inherited a +plantation in Louisiana, to emancipate his slaves; and, as he has more +than once said, it changed the course of Col. T. W. Higginson's life +and made him an abolitionist. "As it was the first anti-slavery work +ever printed in America in book form, so," says Col. Higginson, "I +have always thought it the ablest." Whittier says, "It is no +exaggeration to say that no man or woman at that period rendered more +substantial service to the cause of freedom, or made such a 'great +renunciation' in doing it."</p> + +<p>Turning from the real world, which was becoming too hard for her, Mrs. +Child took refuge in dreamland and wrote "Philothea: a story of +Ancient Greece," published in 1835. Critics have objected that this +delightful romance is not an exact reproduction of Greek life, but is +Hamlet a reproduction of anything that ever happened in Denmark, or +Browning's Saul of anything that could have happened in Judea, a +thousand years before Christ? To Lowell, Mrs. Child was and remained +"Philothea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Higginson says that the lines in which Lowell describes +her in the "Fable for Critics," are the one passage of pure poetry it +contains, and at the same time the most charming sketch ever made of +Mrs. Child.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There comes Philothea, her face all aglow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has just been dividing some poor creature's woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And can't tell which pleases her most—to relieve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His want, or his story to hear and believe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No doubt against many deep griefs she prevails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her ear is the refuge of destitute tales;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knows well that silence is sorrow's best food,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that talking draws off from the heart its bad blood."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In 1836, Mr. Child went abroad to study the Beet Sugar industry in +France, Holland, and Germany and, after an absence of a year and a +half, returned to engage in Beet Sugar Farming at Northampton, Mass. +He received a silver medal for raw and refined sugar at the Exhibition +of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanics Association in 1839, and a +premium of $100 from the Massachusetts Agricultural society the same +year. He published a well written and edifying book upon "Beet Sugar," +giv<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>ing the results of his investigations and experiments. It was an +enterprise of great promise, but has taken half a century, in this +country, to become a profitable industry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Child's letters from 1838 to 1841 are dated from Northampton, +where she is assisting to work out the "Beet Sugar" experiment. It +would have been a rather grinding experience to any one with less +cheerfulness than Mrs. Child. She writes, June 9, 1838, "A month +elapsed before I stepped into the woods which were all around me +blooming with flowers. I did not go to Mr. Dwight's ordination, nor +have I yet been to meeting. He has been to see me however, and though +I left my work in the midst and sat down with a dirty gown and hands +somewhat grimmed, we were high in the blue in fifteen minutes." Mr. +Dwight was Rev. John S. Dwight, Brook Farmer, and editor of <em>Dwight's +Journal of Music</em>.</p> + +<p>Half of her published letters are addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Francis G. +Shaw, parents of Col. Robert G. Shaw. Here is one in 1840, to Mr. +Shaw, after she had made a trip to Boston. It will be interesting as +presenting a new aspect of Mrs. Child's nature: "The only thing, +except meeting dear friends, that attracted me to Bos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>ton was the +exhibition of statuary.... I am ashamed to say how deeply I am charmed +with sculpture: ashamed because it seems like affectation in one who +has had such limited opportunity to become acquainted with the arts. I +have a little figure of a caryatid which acts upon my spirit like a +magician's spell.... Many a time this hard summer, I have laid down my +dish-cloth or broom and gone to refresh my spirit by gazing on it a +few minutes. It speaks to me. It says glorious things. In summer I +place flowers before it; and I have laid a garland of acorns and +amaranths at its feet. I do love every little bit of real sculpture."</p> + +<p>Her other artistic passion was music, quite out of her reach at this +period; but happily, she loved birds and flowers, both of which a Beet +Sugar Farm in the Connecticut Valley made possible. A family of +swallows made their nest in her woodshed, husband and wife dividing +the labors of construction, nursing, and even of incubation, though +the male bird did not have the same skill and grace as the lady, in +placing his feet and wings. Mrs. Child gives a pretty account of this +incident in a letter to one of her little friends, and says, "It seems +as if I could watch them forever."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> Later, in one of her letters to +the Boston <em>Courier</em>, she gives a more complete account of the +episode. Her observations convinced her that birds have to be taught +to fly, as a child is taught to walk.</p> + +<p>When birds and flowers went, she had the autumn foliage, and she +managed to say a new thing about it: it is "color taking its fond and +bright farewell of form—like the imagination giving a deeper, richer, +and warmer glow to old familiar truths before the winter of +rationalism comes and places trunk and branches in naked outline +against the cold, clear sky."</p> + +<p>Whether she had been living hitherto in a "rent" we are not told, but +in a letter of February 8, 1841, she informs us that she is about to +move to a farm on which "is a sort of a shanty with two rooms and a +garret. We expect to whitewash it, build a new woodshed, and live +there next year. I shall keep no help, and there will be room for +David and me. I intend to half bury it in flowers."</p> + +<p>There is nothing fascinating in sordid details, but Mrs. Child in the +midst of sordid details, is glorious. A month before this last letter, +her brother, Prof. Francis, had written her apparently wishing her +more congenial cir<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>cumstances; we have only her reply, from which it +appears her father is under her care. She declines her brother's +sympathy, and wonders that he can suppose "the deadening drudgery of +the world" can imprison a soul in its caverns. "It is not merely an +eloquent phrase," she says, "but a distinct truth that the outward has +no power over us but that which we voluntarily give it. It is not I +who drudge; it is merely the case that contains me. I defy all the +powers of earth and hell to make me scour floors and feed pigs, if I +choose meanwhile to be off conversing with angels.... If I can in +quietude and cheerfulness forego my own pleasures and relinquish my +tastes, to administer to my father's daily comfort, I seem to those +who live in shadows to be cooking food and mixing medicines, but I am +in fact making divine works of art which will reveal to me their fair +proportions in the far eternity." Besides this consolation, she says, +"Another means of keeping my soul fresh is my intense love of nature. +Another help, perhaps stronger than either of the two, is domestic +love."</p> + +<p>Her Northampton life was nearer an end than she supposed when she +wrote these letters; she did not spend the next year in the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +farm house with "two rooms and a garret"; on May 27th, she dates a +letter from New York city, where she has gone reluctantly to edit the +<em>Anti-Slavery Standard</em>. She had been translated from the sphere of +"cooking food and mixing medicines" to congenial literary occupations; +she had, let us hope, a salary sufficient for her urgent necessities; +her home was in the family of the eminent Quaker philanthropist, Isaac +T. Hopper, who received her as a daughter, and whose kindness she +repaid by writing his biography. However the venture might come out, +we would think her life could not well be harder or less attractive +than it had been, drudging in a dilapidated farm house, and we are +glad she is well out of it. Strange to say, she did not take our view +of the situation. We have already seen how independent she was of +external circumstances. In a letter referred to, dated May 27, she +chides a friend for writing accounts of her outward life: "What do I +care whether you live in one room or six? I want to know what your +spirit is doing. What are you thinking, feeling, and reading?... My +task here is irksome enough. Your father will tell you that it was not +zeal for the cause, but love for my husband, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> brought me hither. +But since it was necessary for me to leave home to be earning +somewhat, I am thankful that my work is for the anti-slavery cause. I +have agreed to stay one year. I hope I shall then be able to return to +my husband and rural home, which is humble enough, yet very +satisfactory to me. Should the <em>Standard</em> be continued, and my editing +generally desired, perhaps I could make an arrangement to send +articles from Northampton. At all events, I trust the weary separation +from my husband is not to last more than a year. If I am to be away +from him, I could not be more happily situated than in Friend Hopper's +family. They treat me the same as a daughter and a sister."</p> + +<p>The <em>Anti-Slavery Standard</em> was a new enterprise; its editorship was +offered to Mr. and Mrs. Childs jointly; Col. Higginson says that Mr. +Child declined because of ill health; another authority, that he was +still infatuated with his Beet Sugar, of which Mrs. Child had had more +than enough; it appears from her letter that neither of them dreamed +of abandoning the Sugar industry; if the enterprise was folly, they +were happily united in the folly.</p> + +<p>However, of the two, the <em>Anti-Slavery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> Standard</em> was the more +successful enterprise, and at the end of the two years, Mr. Child +closed out his Beet Sugar business and joined Mrs. Child in editing +the paper. Mrs. Child edited the <em>Standard</em> eight years, six of which +were in conjunction with Mr. Child. They were successful editors; they +gave the <em>Standard</em> a high literary character, and made it acceptable +to people of taste and culture who, whatever their sympathy with +anti-slavery, were often repelled by the unpolished manners of Mr. +Garrison's paper, <em>The Liberator</em>.</p> + +<p>Something of her life outside the <em>Standard</em> office, something of the +things she saw and heard and enjoyed, during these eight years, can be +gathered from her occasional letters to the Boston <em>Courier</em>. They are +interesting still; they will always be of interest to one who cares to +know old New York, as it was sixty years ago, or from 1840 onward. +That they were appreciated then is evident from the fact that, +collected and published in two volumes in 1844, eleven editions were +called for during the next eight years. Col. Higginson considers these +eight years in New York the most interesting and satisfactory of Mrs. +Child's life.</p> + +<p>Though we have room for few incidents of this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> period, there is one +too charming to be omitted. A friend went to a flower merchant on +Broadway to buy a bunch of violets for Mrs. Child's birthday. +Incidentally, the lady mentioned Mrs. Child; she may have ordered the +flowers sent to her house. When the lady came to pay for them, the +florist said, "I cannot take pay for flowers intended for her. She is +a stranger to me, but she has given my wife and children so many +flowers in her writings, that I will never take money of her." Another +pretty incident is this: an unknown friend or admirer always sent Mrs. +Child the earliest wild flowers of spring and the latest in autumn.</p> + +<p>I have said that one of her passions was music, which happily she now +has opportunities to gratify. "As for amusements," she says, "music is +the only thing that excites me.... I have a chronic insanity with +regard to music. It is the only Pegasus which now carries me far up +into the blue. Thank God for this blessing of mine." I should be glad +if I had room for her account of an evening under the weird spell of +Ole Bull. Her moral sense was keener than her æsthetic, but her +æsthetic sense was for keener than that of the average mortal. +Sometimes she felt, as Paul would have said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> "in a strait betwixt +two"; in 1847 she writes Mr. Francis G. Shaw: "I am now wholly in the +dispensation of art, and therefore theologians and reformers jar upon +me." Reformer as she was and will be remembered, she was easily drawn +into the dispensation of art; and nature was always with her, so much +so that Col. Higginson says, "She always seemed to be talking +radicalism in a greenhouse."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Child retired from the <em>Standard</em> in 1849. Her next +letters are dated from Newton, Mass. Her father was living upon a +small place—a house and garden—in the neighboring town of Wayland, +beautifully situated, facing Sudbury Hill, with the broad expanse of +the river meadows between. Thither Mrs. Child went to take care of him +from 1852 to 1856, when he died, leaving the charming little home to +her. There are many traditions of her mode of life in Wayland, but her +own account is the best: "In 1852, we made our humble home in Wayland, +Mass., where we spent twenty-two pleasant years, entirely alone, +without any domestic, mutually serving each other and depending upon +each other for intellectual companionship." If the memory of Wayland +people is correct, Mr. Child was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> with her much during the four +years that her father lived. Her father was old and feeble and Mr. +Child had not the serene patience of his wife. Life ran more easily +when Mr. Child was away. Whatever other period in the life of Mrs. +Child may have been the most satisfactory, this must have been the +most trying.</p> + +<p>Under date of March 23, 1856, happily the last year of this sort of +widowhood, she writes: "This winter has been the loneliest of my life. +If you knew my situation you would pronounce it unendurable. I should +have thought so myself if I had had a foreshadowing of it a few years +ago. But the human mind can get acclimated to anything. What with +constant occupation and a happy consciousness of sustaining and +cheering my poor old father in his descent to the grave, I am almost +always in a state of serene contentment. In summer, my once +extravagant love of beauty satisfies itself in watching the birds, the +insects, and the flowers in my little patch of a garden." She has no +room for her vases, engravings, and other pretty things; she keeps +them in a chest, and she says, "when birds and flowers are gone, I +sometimes take them out as a child does its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> playthings, and sit down +in the sunshine with them, dreaming over them."</p> + +<p>We need not think of her spending much time dreaming over her little +hoard of artistic treasures. Her real business in this world is +writing the history of all religions, or "The Progress of Religious +Ideas in Successive Ages." It was a work begun in New York, as early +as 1848, finished in Wayland in 1855, published in three large octavo +volumes and, whatever its merits or success, was the greatest literary +labor of her life.</p> + +<p>Under date of July 14, 1848, she writes to Dr. Francis: "My book gets +slowly on.... I am going to tell the plain, unvarnished truth, as +clearly as I can understand it, and let Christians and Infidels, +Orthodox and Unitarians, Catholics, Protestants, and Swedenborgians +growl as they like. They will growl if they notice it at all: for each +will want his own theory favored, and the only thing I have +conscientiously aimed at is not to favor any theory at all." She may +have failed in scientific method; but here is a scientific spirit. "In +her religious speculations," says Whittier, "Mrs. Child moved in the +very van." In Wayland, she considered herself a parishioner of Dr. +Edmund<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> H. Sears, whom she calls, "our minister," but she was +somewhat in advance of Dr. Sears. Her opinions were much nearer akin +to those of Theodore Parker. Only a Unitarian of that type could +perhaps at this early period have conceived the history of religion as +an evolution of one and the same spiritual element "through successive +ages."</p> + +<p>She had not much time to dream over her chest of artistic treasures +when the assault of Preston S. Brooks upon Senator Sumner called her +to battle of such force and point that Dr. William H. Furness said, it +was worth having Sumner's head broken.</p> + +<p>When death released her from the care of her father, she took +"Bleeding Kansas" under her charge. She writes letters to the +newspapers; she sits up till eleven o'clock, "stitching as fast as my +fingers could go," making garments for the Kansas immigrants; she +"stirs up the Wayland women to make garments for Kansas"; she sends +off Mr. Child to make speeches for Kansas; and then she writes him in +this manner: "How melancholy I felt when you went off in the morning +darkness. It seemed as if everything about me was tumbling down; as if +I were never to have a nest and a mate any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> more." Surely the rest of +this letter was not written for us to read: "Good, kind, magnanimous +soul, how I love you. How I long to say over the old prayer again +every night. It almost made me cry to see how carefully you had +arranged everything for my comfort before you went; so much kindling +stuff split up and the bricks piled up to protect my flowers." Here is +love in a cottage. This life is not all prosaic.</p> + +<p>Old anti-slavery friends came to see her and among them Charles +Sumner, in 1857, spent a couple of hours with her, and left his +photograph; she met Henry Wilson at the anti-slavery fair and talked +with him an "hour or so." Whittier says, "Men like Charles Sumner, +Henry Wilson, Salmon P. Chase, and Governor Andrew availed themselves +of her foresight and sound judgment of men and measures."</p> + +<p>When John Brown was wounded and taken prisoner at Harper's Ferry, +nothing was more in character for Mrs. Child than to offer her +services as his nurse. She wrote him under cover of a letter to Gov. +Wise, of Virginia. The arrival of Mrs. Brown, made Mrs. Child's +attendance unnecessary, but the incident led to a lively +correspondence between Mrs. Child and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> Gov. Wise, in which Mrs. +Senator Mason, of Virginia, joined. Neither of her distinguished +correspondents possessed the literary skill of Mrs. Child. The entire +correspondence was collected in a pamphlet of which 300,000 copies +were sold. On a visit to Whittier at Amesbury, a delegation from a +Republican political meeting called upon her, saying they wanted to +see the woman who "poured hot shot into Gov. Wise."</p> + +<p>In 1863, after saying that she is "childish enough to talk to the +picture of a baby that is being washed," she writes her friend, Mrs. +Shaw, "But you must not suppose that I live for amusement. On the +contrary I work like a beaver the whole time. Just now I am making a +hood for a poor neighbor; last week I was making flannels for the +hospital; odd minutes are filled up ravelling lint; every string that +I can get sight of I pull for poor Sambo. I write to the <em>Tribune</em> +about him; I write to the <em>Transcript</em> about him; I write to private +individuals about him; and I write to the President and members of +Congress about him; I write to Western Virginia and Missouri about +him; and I get the articles published too. This shows what progress +the cause of freedom is making."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> Not everything went to her mind +however. If we think there has been a falling from grace in the public +life of our generation, it may do us good to read what she says in +1863: "This war has furnished many instances of individual nobility, +but our national record is mean."</p> + +<p>In 1864, she published "Looking Toward Sunset," a book designed to +"present old people with something wholly cheerful." The entire +edition was exhausted during the holiday season; 4,000 copies were +sold and more called for. All her profits on the book, she devoted to +the freedmen, sending $400 as a first instalment. Not only that, but +she prepared a volume called "The Freedman's Book," which she printed +at an expense of $600, and distributed among the freedmen 1200 copies +at her own cost. She once sent Wendell Phillips a check of $100 for +the freedmen, and when he protested that it was more than she could +afford, she consented to "think it over." The next day, she made her +contribution $200. She contributed $20 a year to the American +Missionary Association toward the support of a teacher for the +freedmen, and $50 a year to the Anti-Slavery Society. A lady wished, +through Mr. Phillips, to give Mrs. Child sev<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>eral thousand dollars for +her comfort. Mrs. Child declined the favor, but was persuaded to +accept it, and then scrupulously gave away the entire income in +charity. It is evident she might have made herself very comfortable, +if it had not given her so much more pleasure to make someone else +comfortable.</p> + +<p>Her dress, as neat and clean as that of a Quakeress, was quite as +plain and far from the latest style. A stranger meeting her in a stage +coach mistook her for a servant until she began to talk. "Who is that +woman who dresses like a peasant, and speaks like a scholar?" he asked +on leaving the coach. Naturally, it was thought Mrs. Child did not +know how to dress, or, more likely, did not care for pretty things. +"You accuse me," she writes to Miss Lucy Osgood, "you accuse me of +being indifferent to externals, whereas the common charge is that I +think too much of beauty, and say too much about it. I myself think it +one of my greatest weaknesses. A handsome man, woman or child can +always make a pack-horse of me. My next neighbor's little boy has me +completely under his thumb, merely by virtue of his beautiful eyes and +sweet voice." There was one before her of whom it was said, "He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +denied himself, and took up his cross." It was also said of him, +"Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor." He never had a +truer disciple than Mrs. Child.</p> + +<p>Not that she ever talked of "crosses." "But why use the word +sacrifice?" she asks. "I never was conscious of any sacrifice." What +she gained in moral discipline or a new life, she says, was always +worth more than the cost. She used an envelope twice, Wendell Phillips +says; she never used a whole sheet of paper when half of one would do; +she outdid poverty in her economies, and then gave money as if she had +thousands. "I seldom have a passing wish for enlarging my income +except for the sake of doing more for others. My wants are very few +and simple."</p> + +<p>In 1867, Mrs. Child published "A Romance of the Republic," a pathetic +story, but fascinating, and admirably written; in 1878, appeared a +book of choice selections, entitled, "Aspirations of the World"; and +in 1871, a volume of short biographies, entitled "Good Wives," and +dedicated, to Mr. Child: "To my husband, this book is affectionately +inscribed, by one who, through every vicissitude, has found in his +kindness and worth, her purest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> happiness and most constant incentive +to duty."</p> + +<p>Mr. Child died in 1874 at the age of eighty, and Mrs. Child followed +him in 1880, at the age of seventy-eight. After her death, a small +volume of her letters was published, of which the reader will wish +there were more. Less than a month before her death, she wrote to a +friend a list of benevolent enterprises she has in mind and says, "Oh, +it is such a luxury to be able to give without being afraid. I try not +to be Quixotic, but I want to rain down blessings on all the world, in +token of thankfulness for the blessings that have been rained down +upon me."</p> + +<p>It is too late to make amends for omissions in this paper, but it +would be unjust to Mrs. Child to forget her life-long devotion to the +interests of her own sex. In 1832, a year before her "Appeal in behalf +of that class of Americans called Africans,"—eleven years before the +appearance of Margaret Fuller's "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," +Mrs. Child published "A History of the Condition of Women in all ages +and nations," showing her disposition to begin every inquiry with a +survey of the facts, and also that the "woman question" was the first +to awaken her interest. Her greatest contribution to the advancement +of women was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> herself; that is, her own achievements. To the same +purpose were her biographies of famous women: "Memoirs of Mme. de +Stael and Mme. Roland" in 1847, and sketches of "Good Wives" in 1871. +Whittier says, she always believed in woman's right to the ballot, as +certainly he did, calling it "the greatest social reform of the age." +In one letter to Senator Sumner, she directly argues the question: "I +reduce the argument," she says, "to very simple elements. I pay taxes +for property of my own earning, and I do not believe in 'taxation +without representation.'" Again: "I am a human being and every human +being has a right to a voice in the laws which claim authority to tax +him, to imprison him, or to <em>hang</em> him."</p> + +<p>A light humor illuminates this argument. Humor was one of her saving +qualities which, as Whittier says, "kept her philanthropy free from +any taint of fanaticism." It contributed greatly to her cheerfulness. +Of her fame, she says playfully: "In a literary point of view I know I +have only a local reputation, done in water colors."</p> + +<p>Could anything have been better said than this of the New England +April or even May: "What a misnomer in our climate to call this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +season Spring, very much like calling Calvinism religion." Nothing +could have been keener than certain points scored in her reply to Mrs. +Senator Mason. Mrs. Mason, remembering with approving conscience her +own ministries in the slave cabins caring for poor mothers with young +babies, asks Mrs. Child, in triumph, if she goes among the poor to +render such services. Mrs. Child replies that she has never known +mothers under such circumstances to be neglected, "and here at the +North," said she, "after we have helped the mothers, we do not sell +the babies." After Gen. Grant's election to the Presidency, a +procession with a band from Boston, marched to her house and gave her +a serenade. She says that she joined in the hurrahs "like the +strong-minded woman that I am. The fact is, I forgot half the time +whether I belonged to the stronger or weaker sex." Whether she +belonged to the stronger or weaker sex, is still something of a +problem. Sensible men would be willing to receive her, should women +ever refuse to acknowledge her.</p> + +<p>Wendell Phillips paid her an appreciative tribute, at her funeral. +"There were," he said, "all the charms and graceful elements which we +call feminine, united with a masculine grasp<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> and vigor; sound +judgment and great breadth; large common sense and capacity for +everyday usefulness, endurance, foresight, strength, and skill." The +address is given in full in the volume of "Letters." There is also a +fine poem by Whittier for the same occasion:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Than thine was never turned a fonder heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To nature and to art;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet loving beauty, thou couldst pass it by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for the poor deny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thyself...."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The volume contains a poetical tribute of an earlier date, by Eliza +Scudder, of which Mrs. Child said, "I never was so touched and pleased +by any tribute in my life. I cried over the verses and I smiled over +them." I will close this paper with Miss Scudder's last stanza:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So apt to know, so wise to guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So tender to redress,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, friend with whom such charms abide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How can I love thee less?"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]<br />[Pg 122]<br />[Pg 123]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IV" id="Chapter_IV"></a>IV<br /><br /> +DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;"> +<img src="images/dix.jpg" width="437" height="500" alt="DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX" title="DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX" /> +<span class="caption">DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX</span> +</div> + +<p>The career of Dorothy Dix is a romance of philanthropy which the world +can ill afford to forget. It has been said of her, and it is still +said, that she was "the most useful and distinguished woman America +has yet produced." It is the opinion of Mr. Tiffany, her biographer, +that as the founder of institutions of mercy, she "has simply no peer +in the annals of Protestantism." To find her parallel one must go to +the calendar of the Catholic saints,—St. Theresa, of Spain, or Santa +Chiara, of Assisi. "Why then," he asks, do the "majority of the +present generation know little or nothing of so remarkable a story!" +Till his biography appeared, it might have been answered that the +story had never been told; now, we should have to say that, with a +thousand demands upon our time, it has not been read.</p> + +<p>Dorothea Lynde Dix—born February 11, 1802—was the daughter of Joseph +Dix and granddaughter of the more eminent Dr. Elijah Dix, of +Worcester, later of Boston, Mass. Dr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Dix was born in Watertown, +Mass., in 1747. At the age of seventeen, he became the office boy of +Dr. John Green, an eminent physician in Worcester, Mass., and later, a +student of medicine. After five years, in 1770, he began to practice +as physician and surgeon in Worcester where he formed a partnership +with Dr. Sylvester Gardner. It must have been a favorable time for +young doctors since in 1771, a year after he began to practice, he +married Dorothy Lynde, of Charlestown, Mass., for whom her little +granddaughter was named. Mrs. Dix seems to have been a woman of great +decision of character, and no less precision of thought and action, +two traits which reappeared conspicuously in our great philanthropist.</p> + +<p>Certain qualities of Dr. Dix are also said to have reappeared in his +granddaughter. He was self-reliant, aggressive, uncompromising, +public-spirited, and sturdily honest. To his enterprise, Worcester +owed its first shade trees, planted by him, when shade trees were +considered great folly, and also the Boston and Worcester turnpike, +when mud roads were thought to be divinely appointed thoroughfares. +His integrity is shown by an incident<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> which also throws light upon +the conditions of a troubled period. His partner, Dr. Gardner, made +the grave mistake of taking the royal side in the controversies that +preceded the Revolution, and Worcester became as hot for him as +Richmond or Charleston was for a Union man in 1861. Dr. Gardner +disappeared, leaving his effects behind him. After the war, Dr. Dix +made a voyage to England and honorably settled accounts with his +former partner.</p> + +<p>It was like the enterprising Dr. Dix that he turned this creditable +act to his financial advantage. On his return to America he brought +with him a stock of medical books, surgical instruments, and chemical +apparatus, and became a dealer in physician's supplies, while +continuing the practice of his profession. His business prospering, in +1795 he removed to Boston for a larger field, where he opened a drug +store near Faneuil Hall and established chemical works in South +Boston. Successful as physician, druggist and manufacturer, he soon +had money to invest. Maine, with its timber lands, was the Eldorado of +that era, and Dr. Dix bought thousands of acres in its wilderness, +where Dixfield in the west, and Dixmont in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> east, townships once +owned by him, preserve his name and memory.</p> + +<p>The house of Dr. Dix in Boston, called the "Dix Mansion," was on +Washington St., corner of Dix Place, then Orange Court. It had a large +garden behind it, where originated the Dix pear, once a favorite. Dr. +Dix died in 1809, when Dorothea was seven years old. Young as she was, +he was among the most vivid of her childhood memories and by far the +pleasantest. She seems to have been a favorite with him and it was his +delight to take her in his chaise on his rounds, talking playfully +with her and listening to her childish prattle.</p> + +<p>Joseph Dix, the father of Dorothea, is a vague and shadowy memory. He +seems to have had little of his father's energy or good sense. +Unstable in many of his ways, he lived a migratory life, "at various +spots in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, as well as in Worcester +and Boston, Mass." When Dorothea was born, he was living at Hampden, +Maine, adjoining his father's Dixmont properties, presumably as his +father's land agent. He probably tired of this occupation because it +interfered with his business. His business seems to have been +religion. He was a prolific<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> author of religious literature. He was a +philanthropist after his kind, giving his time without stint to the +writing of religious tracts, and spending his money in publishing +them, with little benefit to the world and much detriment to his +family. In the stitching and pasting of these tracts, the whole +household were required to assist and it was against this irksome +taskwork that Dorothea, at the age of twelve, rebelled, running away +from Worcester, where the family then lived, and finding a refuge with +her grandmother in Boston. Dorothea afterwards educated her two +brothers, one of whom became a sea captain and the other a Boston +merchant.</p> + +<p>Dorothea Dix was created by her Maker, but she was given in a plastic +state, first into the hands of inexorable Madam Dix, and next into +those of the all-pitying Dr. Channing. Madam Dix is described as a +fine specimen of the dignified, precise, conscientious New England +gentlewoman of her generation. Industry, economy, and above all +thoroughness were the chief articles of her religion, and she +instilled these virtues into the mind of her granddaughter by the most +vigorous discipline. A week of solitary confinement was among the +penal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>ties inflicted upon the hapless child who had failed to reach +the standard of duty prescribed for her. The standard, with Madam Dix, +did not differ from perfection discernibly. Mr. Tiffany quotes a lady +who in her girlhood, as a special reward of merit, was allowed to make +an entire shirt under the supervision of Madam Dix. It was an +experience never forgotten. No stitch in the entire garment could be +allowed to differ perceptibly from every other, but the lady spoke of +the ordeal with enthusiastic gratitude, declaring that it had been a +life-long benefit to her to have been compelled to do one piece of +work thoroughly well.</p> + +<p>"I never knew childhood," Miss Dix said pitifully in after life. +Certainly with this exacting grandmother, there can be no childhood as +it is understood to-day; but if Dorothea submits to the rigorous +discipline enforced upon her, she will make a woman of iron fibre who +will flinch from no hardship and will leave no task undone. Happily +she did submit to it. The alternative would have been to return to her +half-vagabond father. Too much discipline or too little was her +destiny. She preferred to take the medicine in excess, and in the end +was grateful for it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>Dorothea was so apt a pupil and so ambitious that, at the age of +fourteen, she returned to Worcester and opened a school for small +children, prudently lengthening the skirts and sleeves of her dress to +give dignity and impressiveness to her appearance. Half a century +later one of these pupils vividly recalled the child-teacher, tall of +her age, easily blushing, at once beautiful and imposing in manner, +but inexorably strict in discipline.</p> + +<p>Dorothea spent the next four years in Boston in preparation for a more +ambitious undertaking and, in 1821 at the age of nineteen, she opened +a day school in Boston in a small house belonging to Madam Dix. The +school prospered and gradually expanded into a day and boarding +school, for which the Dix mansion, whither the school was removed, +furnished convenient space. Madam Dix, enfeebled by age and +infirmities, laid down the scepter she had wielded, and the premises +passed virtually into the hands of Dorothea. Thither came pupils from +"the most prominent families in Boston" and other Massachusetts towns, +and even from beyond the limits of the State. There also she brought +her brothers to be educated under her care and started upon a business +career.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>Hardly had she started her school for the rich and fortunate before, +anticipating her vocation as a philanthropist, she opened another for +the poor and destitute. A letter is preserved in which she pleadingly +asks the conscientious but perhaps stony Madam Dix for the loft over +the stable for this purpose. "My dear grandmother," she begins, "Had I +the saint-like eloquence of our minister, I would employ it in +explaining all the motives, and dwelling on the good, the good to the +poor, the miserable, the idle, the ignorant, which would follow your +giving me permission to use the barn chamber for a school-room for +charitable and religious purposes."</p> + +<p>The minister with saint-like eloquence was Dr. Channing. The letter is +valuable as showing the source of the flame that had fired her +philanthropic soul. For the finer culture of the heart she had passed +from the hands of Madam Dix to those of Dr. Channing. The request for +the room was granted and Mr. Tiffany tells us that "The little +barn-school proved the nucleus out of which years later was developed +the beneficent work of the Warren Street Chapel, from which as a +centre spread far and wide a new ideal of dealing with child<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>hood. +There first was interest excited in the mind of Rev. Charles Barnard, +a man of positive spiritual genius in charming and uplifting the +children of the poor and debased."</p> + +<p>Letters from Miss Dix at this period show that she had a sensitive +nature, easily wrought upon, now inflamed to action and now melted to +tears. "You say that I weep easily. I was early taught to sorrow, to +shed tears, and now, when sudden joy lights up or unexpected sorrow +strikes my heart, I find it difficult to repress the full and swelling +tide of feeling." She is reading a book of poems and weeping over +it,—"paying my watery tribute to the genius" of the poet. She longs +for similar talents that she "might revel in the luxury of those +mental visions that must hourly entrance a spirit that partakes less +of earth than heaven." It will be remembered that her father was +religious even to folly. Here was his child, only by judicious +training, the stream was turned into channels of wise beneficence.</p> + +<p>With the management of two schools, the supervision of the household, +the care of two younger brothers, and ministries to her grandmother +already advanced in years, Miss Dix was sufficiently occupied, but she +found time to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> prepare a text-book upon "Common Things," gathering the +material as she wrote. This, her first attempt at book-making, issued +in 1824, was kept in print forty-five years, and went to its sixtieth +edition in 1869. It was followed the next year by "Hymns for Children" +selected and altered, and by a book of devotions entitled, "Evening +Hours." Lengthening the day at both ends, "rising before the sun and +going to bed after midnight," working while others slept, gave time +for these extra tasks. Nature exacted her usual penalties. In the +third year of this arduous labor, threatenings of lung troubles +appeared which, however, she defied even when "in conducting her +classes she had to stand with one hand on a desk for support, and the +other pressed hard to her side as though to repress a hard pain." +Meanwhile she wrote a bosom friend: "There is in our nature a +disposition to indulgence, a secret desire to escape from labor, which +unless hourly combated will overcome the best faculties of our minds +and paralyse our most useful powers.... I have often entertained a +dread lest I should fall a victim to my besieger, and that fear has +saved me thus far."</p> + +<p>Besides the terror of lapsing into self-indul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>gence, she was +stimulated to activity by the care of her brothers, for one of whom +she seems to have felt special anxiety: "Oh, Annie," she writes, "if +that child is good, I care not how humble his pathway in life. It is +for him my soul is filled with bitterness when sickness wastes me; it +is because of him I dread to die." Was there no one to advise her that +the best care of her brother would be to care for herself, and that if +she would do more, she must first do less! Where was Dr. Channing who, +more than any other, was responsible for her intemperate zeal! It +appears that Dr. Channing, "not without solicitude," as he writes her, +was watching over his eager disciple. "Your infirm health," he says, +"seems to darken your prospect of usefulness. But I believe your +constitution will yet be built up, if you will give it a fair chance. +You must learn to give up your plans of usefulness as much as those of +gratification, to the will of God."</p> + +<p>Miss Dix abandoned her school apparently in 1827, after six years of +service and at the age of twenty-five. The following spring and summer +she spent as a governess in the family of Dr. Channing at his summer +home in Rhode Island. Her duties were light and she lived<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> much in the +open air, devoting her leisure to botany in which she was already "no +mean proficient," and to "the marine life of the beautiful region." +Very pretty letters were exchanged between her and Dr. Channing at the +termination of the engagement. "We will hear no more of thanks," he +wrote her, "but your affection for us and our little ones we will +treasure among our most precious blessings." He invites her to renew +the relations another year, and so she did.</p> + +<p>To avoid the rigors of a New England climate, Miss Dix, for some +years, spent her winters, now in Philadelphia, now in Alexandria, Va., +keeping herself busy with reading "of a very multifarious +kind,—poetry, science, biography, and travels,—besides eking out the +scanty means she had laid by from her teaching by writing stories and +compiling floral albums and books of devotion." In 1827, she published +a volume of "Ten Short Stories for Children" which went to a second +edition in 1832; in 1828, "Meditations for Private Hours," which went +through several editions; in 1829, two little books, "The Garland of +Flora," and "The Pearl, a Christmas Gift."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> Occasional brief +engagements in teaching are also recorded in this period.</p> + +<p>The winter of 1830, she spent with the Channings on the Island of St. +Croix, in the West Indies, in her old capacity as governess. A +daughter of Dr. Channing gives an interesting account of the +preceptress of whom, first and last, she had seen so much. She +describes Miss Dix as tall and dignified, very shy in manner, strict +and inflexible in discipline. "From her iron will, it was hopeless to +appeal. I think she was a very accomplished teacher, active and +diligent herself, very fond of natural history and botany. She enjoyed +long rambles, always calling our attention to what was interesting in +the world around us. I hear that some of her pupils speak of her as +irascible. I have no such remembrance. Fixed as fate we considered +her."</p> + +<p>Miss Dix returned from the West Indies in the spring, very much +improved in health, and in the autumn, she reopened her school in the +Dix Mansion, with the same high ideals as before and with such +improved methods as experience had suggested. Pupils came to her again +as of old and she soon had as many attendants as her space permitted. +A feature of the school<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> was a letter-box through which passed a daily +mail between teacher and pupils and "large bundles of child-letters of +this period" are still extant, preserved by Miss Dix with scrupulous +care to the end of life. It was a bright child who wrote as follows: +"I thought I was doing well until I read your letter, but when you +said that you were rousing to greater energy, all my satisfaction +vanished. For if you are not satisfied in some measure with yourself +and are going to do more than you have done, I don't know what I shall +do. You do not go to rest until midnight and then you rise very +early." The physician had administered too strong a tonic for the +little patient's health.</p> + +<p>A lady who, at the age of sixteen, attended this school in 1833, +writes of her eminent teacher as follows: "She fascinated me from the +first, as she had done many of my class before me. Next to my mother, +I thought her the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was in the +prime of her years, tall and of dignified carriage, head finely shaped +and set, with an abundance of soft, wavy, brown hair." The school +continued in the full tide of success for five years, during which +time, by hard labor and close economies, Miss Dix had saved enough to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +secure her "the independence of a modest competence." This seems a +great achievement, but if one spends nothing for superfluities and +does most of his labor himself, he can lay by his income, much or +little. The appointments of the school are said to have been very +simple, a long table serving as a desk for study, when it was not in +use for dinner. Only one assistant is mentioned, who gave instruction +in French and, perhaps, elementary Latin. Surely Miss Dix could handle +the rest herself. The merit of the school was not in its elaborate +appointments, but in the personal supervision of its accomplished +mistress. So the miracle was wrought and at the age of thirty-three, +Miss Dix had achieved a modest competence.</p> + +<p>The undertaking had cost her her health once before, and now it cost +her her health again. The old symptoms, a troublesome cough, pain in +the side, and slight hemorrhages, returned and, having dragged her +frail body through the winter of 1836, Miss Dix reluctantly closed her +school in the spring and, in obedience to her physician, went to +Europe for rest, with the intention of spending the summer in England, +the autumn in France, and the winter in Italy. Prostrated by the +voyage, she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> carried to a hotel in Liverpool where she was put to +bed with the forlorn prospect of being confined to her solitary room +for an indefinite period of convalescence. But again Dr. Channing +befriended her. From him she had received letters of introduction, one +of which brought to her side Mr. William Rathbone, a wealthy merchant +of Liverpool and a prominent English Unitarian. Mr. and Mrs. Rathbone +insisted upon taking her to their home, a charming residence a few +miles out of the city. Thither she consented to go for a visit of a +few weeks, and there she remained, as an honored guest tenderly cared +for, for eighteen months. "To the end of her days," says her +biographer, "this period of eighteen months stood out in her memory as +the jubilee of her life, the sunniest, the most restful, and the +tenderest to her affections of her whole earthly experience." She +wrote a Boston friend, "You must imagine me surrounded by every +comfort, sustained by every tenderness that can cheer, blest in the +continual kindness of the family in which Providence has placed me,—I +with no claim but those of a common nature." And again, "So completely +am I adopted into the circle of loving spirits that I sometimes +forget<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> I really am not to consider the bonds transient in their +binding."</p> + +<p>She very much needed these friends and their tender care. Nine months +after her arrival, we hear of occasional hemorrhages from which she +has been exempt for ten days, the pain in her side less acute, and her +physician has given her permission to walk about her room. One would +think that her career was practically ended, but, strange to say, the +career which was to make her famous had not yet begun. From this date, +her convalescence proceeded steadily, and she was able to enjoy much +in the delightful home and refined social circle in which she found +herself. "Your remark," she writes a friend, "that I probably enjoy +more now in social intercourse than I have ever before done is quite +true. Certainly if I do not improve, it will be through wilful +self-neglect." Apparently, she was having a glimpse of a less prosaic +existence than the grinding routine of a boarding school. Madam Dix +died at the age of ninety-one, leaving her granddaughter, still in +Europe, a substantial legacy, which sensibly increased her limited +resources and, when the time came for action, left her free to carry +out her great schemes of benevolence without hampering personal +anx<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>ieties. It ought to preserve the memory of Madam Dix that she +endowed a great philanthropist.</p> + +<p>In the autumn of 1837, Miss Dix returned to America, and avoiding the +New England climate, spent the winter in Washington, D. C., and its +neighborhood. Apparently, it was not a wholly happy winter, chiefly +because of her vain and tender longings for the paradise she had left +across the sea. The Washington of 1837 seemed raw to her after the +cultivated English home she had discovered. "I was not conscious," she +writes a friend, "that so great a trial was to meet my return from +England till the whole force of the contrast was laid before me.... I +may be too craving of that rich gift, the power of sharing with other +minds. I have drunk deeply, long, and Oh, how blissfully, at this +fountain in a foreign clime. Hearts met hearts, minds joined with +minds, and what were the secondary trials of pain to the enfeebled +body when daily was administered the soul's medicine and food." +Surely, that English experience was one upon which not every invalid +from these shores could count, but when, a few years later, Miss Dix +returned to England as a kind of angel of mercy, giving back much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +more than she had ever received, the Rathbone family must have been +glad that they had befriended her in her obscurity and her need.</p> + +<p>It was in 1841 at the age of thirty-nine that the second chapter in +the life of Miss Dix began. Note that she had as little thought that +she was beginning a great career as any one of us that he will date +all his future from something he has done or experienced to-day. It +happened that Dr. J. T. G. Nichols, so long the beloved pastor of the +Unitarian parish in Saco, Maine, was then a student of Divinity at +Cambridge. He had engaged to assist in a Sunday School in the East +Cambridge jail, and all the women, twenty in number, had been assigned +to him. The experience of one session with his class was enough to +convince him that a young man was very much out of place in that +position and that a woman, sensible if possible, but a woman +certainly, was necessary. His mother advised him to consult Miss Dix. +Not that her health would permit her to take the class, but she could +advise. On hearing Mr. Nichols' statement, Miss Dix deliberated a +moment and then said, "I will take the class myself." Mr. Nichols +protested that this was not to be thought of, in the condition of her +health, but we have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> heard of her iron will: "Fixed as fate we +considered her," said one of her pupils; and she answered Mr. Nichols, +"I shall be there next Sunday."</p> + +<p>This was the beginning. "After the school was over," says Dr. Nichols, +"Miss Dix went into the jail and found among the prisoners a few +insane persons with whom she talked. She noticed that there was no +stove in their rooms and no means of proper warmth." The date was the +twenty-eighth of March and the climate was New England, from which +Miss Dix had so often had to flee. "The jailer said that a fire for +them was not needed, and would be unsafe. Her repeated solicitations +were without success." The jailer must have thought he was dealing +with a woman, not with destiny. "At that time the court was in session +at East Cambridge, and she caused the case to be brought before it. +Her request was granted. The cold rooms were warmed. Thus was her +great work commenced."</p> + +<p>Such is Dr. Nichols' brief statement, but the course of events did not +run so smoothly as we are led to suppose. The case had to be fought +through the newspapers as well as the court, and here Miss Dix showed +the generalship which she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> exhibited on many another hard fought +field. She never went into battle single-handed. She always managed to +have at her side the best gunners when the real battle began. In the +East Cambridge skirmish, she had Rev. Robert C. Waterston, Dr. Samuel +G. Howe, and Charles Sumner. Dr. Howe visited the jail and wrote an +account for the Boston <em>Advertiser</em>. When this statement was disputed, +as it was, Mr. Sumner, who had accompanied Dr. Howe, confirmed his +account and added details of his own. He said that the inmates "were +cramped together in rooms poorly ventilated and noisome with filth;" +that "in two cages or pens constructed of plank, within the four stone +walls of the same room" were confined, and had been for months, a +raving maniac and an interesting young woman whose mind was so +slightly obscured that it seemed any moment as if the cloud would pass +away; that "the whole prison echoed with the blasphemies of the poor +old woman, while her young and gentle fellow in suffering seemed to +shrink from her words as from blows;" that the situation was hardly +less horrid than that of "tying the living to the dead."</p> + +<p>Where was Miss Dix during this controversy? Why, she was preparing to +investigate every jail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> and almshouse in the State of Massachusetts. +If this was the way the insane were treated in the city of Cambridge, +in a community distinguished for enlightenment and humanity, what +might not be going on in more backward and less favored localities? +Note-book in hand, going from city to city and from town to town, Miss +Dix devoted the two following years to answering this question +exhaustively.</p> + +<p>Having gathered her facts, she presented them to the Legislature in a +Memorial of thirty-two octavo pages, the first of a series of +seventeen statements and appeals presented to the legislatures of +different states, as far west as Illinois and as far south as +Louisiana. "I shall be obliged," she said, "to speak with great +plainness and to reveal many things revolting to the taste, and from +which my woman's nature shrinks with peculiar sensitiveness.... I +proceed, gentlemen, briefly to call your attention to the present +state of insane persons within this Commonwealth, in cages, closets, +cellars, stalls, pens, chained, naked, beaten with rods and lashed +into obedience.... I give a few illustrations but description fades +before reality." If we could dismiss the subject by saying she reports +instance after instance where men and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> women were confined in the +almshouses in Massachusetts in such conditions of inhumanity and +neglect as no intelligent farmer would tolerate for his swine, we +could avoid some unpleasant details; but the statement would be +ineffective because it would seem incredible. At the almshouse in +Danvers, confined in a remote, low, outbuilding, she found a young +woman, once respectable, industrious and worthy, whose mind had been +deranged by disappointments and trials. "There she stood," says Miss +Dix, "clinging to or beating upon the bars of her caged apartment, the +contracted size of which afforded space only for increasing +accumulations of filth,—a foul spectacle; there she stood, with naked +arms, dishevelled hair, the unwashed frame invested with fragments of +unclean garments, the air so extremely offensive, though ventilation +was afforded on all sides but one, that it was not possible to remain +beyond a few moments without retreating for recovery to the outward +air. Irritation of body, produced by utter filth and exposure, incited +her to the horrid process of tearing off her skin by inches; her neck +and person were thus disfigured to hideousness.... And who protects +her," Miss Dix suggestively asks, "who protects her,—that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> worse than +Pariah outcast,—from other wrongs and blacker outrages!" This +question had more meaning for Miss Dix than we might suppose, for at +the almshouse in Worcester she had found an insane Madonna and her +babe: father unknown.</p> + +<p>Fair and beautiful Newton finds a place in this chapter of dishonor, +with a woman chained, nearly nude, and filthy beyond measure: "Sick, +horror-struck, and almost incapable of retreating, I gained the +outward air." A case in Groton attained infamous celebrity, not +because the shame was without parallel but because the overseers of +the poor tried to discredit the statements of Miss Dix. The fact was +that she had understated the case. Dr. Bell of the McLean Asylum, +confirmed her report and added details. In an outbuilding at the +almshouse, a young man, slightly deranged but entirely inoffensive, +was confined by a heavy iron collar to which was attached a chain six +feet in length, the limit of his possible movements. His hands were +fastened together by heavy clavises secured by iron bolts. There was +no window in his dungeon, but for ventilation there was an opening, +half the size of a sash, closed in cold weather by a board shutter. +From this cell, he had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> taken to the McLean Asylum, where his +irons had been knocked off, his swollen limbs chafed gently, and +finding himself comfortable, he exclaimed, "My good man, I must kiss +you." He showed no violence, ate at the common table, slept in the +common bedroom, and seemed in a fair way to recovery when, to save the +expense of three dollars a week for his board and care, the thrifty +Groton officials took him away. He could be boarded at the almshouse +for nothing, and, chained in an outbuilding, he would not require any +care.</p> + +<p>We can follow Miss Dix in her career through a dozen states of this +Union, into the British Provinces, to Scotland and England, thence +across to the Continent, without repeating these details, if we bear +in mind that such as we have seen was the condition of the pauper +insane at that period. Her memorial was presented by Dr. S. G. Howe, +then happily a member of the Legislature, and a bill was passed, not +without opposition, but finally passed, enlarging the asylum at +Worcester to accommodate two hundred additional patients. The +provision was inadequate, but a reform of old abuses had begun. It was +her first victory.</p> + +<p>Grateful for what had been accomplished in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> Massachusetts, Miss Dix +turned to Rhode Island, whose borders she had often approached and +sometimes crossed in her investigations in the adjoining state. Rhode +Island was perhaps not less civilized than her neighbor, but Rhode +Island furnished the prize case of horrors in the mistreatment of +insanity, a case which in a letter introducing the discoverer, Mr. +Thomas G. Hazard said went beyond anything he supposed to exist in the +civilized world. The case was this: Abraham Simmons, a man whose name +ought to go on the roll of martyrdom, was confined in the town of +Little Compton, in a cell seven feet square, stone-built, +stone-roofed, and stone-floored, the entrance double-walled, +double-doored and double-locked, "excluding both light and fresh air, +and without accommodation of any description for warming and +ventilation." When this dungeon was discovered, the walls were covered +by frost a half inch in thickness; the bed was provided with two +comfortables, both wet and the outer one stiffly frozen, or, as Miss +Dix puts it, "only wet straw to lie upon and a sheet of ice for his +covering." Lest two locks should not be enough to hold this dangerous +man, his leg was tethered to the stone floor by an ox-chain. "My +husband," said the mis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>tress, "in winter, sometimes of a morning rakes +out half a bushel of frost, <em>and yet he never freezes</em>; sometimes he +screams dreadfully and that is the reason we had the double wall and +two doors in place of one; his cries disturb us in the house." "How +long has he been here?" "Oh, above three years." Nothing in the +traditions of the Bastile could exceed these horrors, and yet they +were not the product of intentional cruelty, but of unfathomable +stupidity.</p> + +<p>Disregarding the well-meant warnings of her attendant that he would +kill her, Miss Dix took his hands, tried to warm them in her own, +spoke to him of liberty, care and kindness, and for answer "a tear +stole over his hollow cheeks, but no words answered my importunities." +Her next step was to publish the terrible story in the Providence +Journal, not with a shriek, as might have been expected and justified, +but with the affected coolness of a naturalist. With grim humor, she +headed her article, "Astonishing Tenacity of Life," as if it had only +a scientific interest for anybody. If you doubted the statements, you +might go and see for yourself: "Should any persons in this +philanthropic age be disposed from motives of curiosity to visit the +place, they may rest assured that travelling is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> considered quite safe +in that part of the country, however improbable it may seem. The +people of that region profess the Christian religion, and it is even +said that they have adopted some forms and ceremonies which they call +worship. It is not probable, however, that they address themselves to +poor Simmons' God." Their prayers and his shrieks would make a strange +discord, she thinks, if they entered the ear of the same deity.</p> + +<p>Having reported her discoveries to the men of science, she next +appealed to the men of wealth. Providence had at that date a +multi-millionaire, by the name of Butler; he left four millions to his +heirs. He had never been known as a philanthropist; he did not himself +suppose that his heart was susceptible. It is said that knowing +persons smiled when they heard that Miss Dix intended to appeal to +him. Further, it is said that Mr. Butler, at the interview, +ingeniously diverted the conversation from topics that threatened to +be serious. He apparently had no thought of giving Miss Dix a penny. +At length she rose with the impressive dignity so often noted by her +pupils and said: "Mr. Butler, I wish you to hear what I have to say. I +want to bring before you certain facts involv<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>ing terrible suffering +to your fellow creatures all around you,—suffering you can relieve. +My duty will end when I have done this, and with you will rest all +further responsibility." Mr. Butler heard her respectfully to the end, +and then asked, "What do you want me to do?" "Sir," she said, "I want +you to give $50,000 toward the enlargement of the insane hospital in +this city." "Madam, I'll do it," he said, and much more of his estate +afterward went the same way.</p> + +<p>Three years of devoted study of the problems of insanity, with +limitless opportunities for personal observation, had given Miss Dix +an expert knowledge of the subject. She had conceived what an insane +asylum should be. Hitherto, she had been content to enlarge upon +foundations already laid; now she would build an asylum herself. She +saw, we are told, that such an institution as she conceived could not +be built by private benevolence, but must have behind it a legislative +appropriation. She chose New Jersey as the field of her experiment. +Quietly, she entered the state and canvassed its jails and almshouses, +as she had those of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Next she digested +her facts in a Memorial to the Legislature. Then, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> a political +shrewdness for which she became celebrated, she selected the member, +uniting a good heart with a clear head and persistent will, into whose +hands it should be placed. Much of her success is said to have been +due to her political sagacity. The superintendent of one of her +asylums said, "She had an insight into character that was truly +marvellous; and I have never known anyone, man or woman, who bore more +distinctly the mark of intellectuality." Having placed her Memorial in +the hands of a skilful tactician, she retired to a room appropriated +to her use by the courtesy of the House, where she spent her time +writing editorials for newspapers, answering the questions of members, +and holding receptions. "You cannot imagine," she writes a friend, +"the labor of conversing and convincing. Some evenings I had at once +twenty gentlemen for three hours' steady conversation." After a +campaign of two months the bill establishing the New Jersey State +Lunatic Asylum was passed, and the necessary money appropriated for +its erection. She was always partial to this first creation of her +energy and genius. She called it 'her first child,' and there, +forty-five years later, she returned to pass the last seven years of +her life, as in a home, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> room having been gratefully appropriated to +her use by the trustees of the asylum.</p> + +<p>At this date, Dr. S. G. Howe wrote her: "God grant me to look back +upon some three years of my life with a part of the self-approval you +must feel. I ask no higher fortune. No one need say to you, Go on! for +you have heard a higher than any human voice, and you will follow +whithersoever it calleth." Indeed, she already had much of her future +work prepared. While waiting for the Legislature in New Jersey to take +up her bill, she had canvassed Pennsylvania and had the happiness to +see a bill pass the Legislature of that State founding the Dixmont +Hospital, her second child, soon after the birth of her first. The +Dixmont Hospital is the only one of her many children that she would +allow to be even indirectly named for her. Meanwhile, she had +canvassed Kentucky, had been before the Legislature in Tennessee, and, +seven days after the passage of her bill in New Jersey, she writes +from a steamer near Charleston, S. C., as follows: "I designed using +the spring and summer chiefly in examining the jails and poorhouses of +Indiana and Illinois. Having successfully completed my mission in +Kentucky, I learned that traveling in those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> States would be +difficult, if not impossible, for some weeks to come, on account of +mud and rains. This decided me to examine the prisons and hospitals of +New Orleans, and, returning, to see the state prisons of Louisiana at +Baton Rouge, of Mississippi at Jackson, of Arkansas at Little Rock, of +Missouri at Jefferson City, and of Illinois at Alton.... I have seen +incomparably more to approve than to censure in New Orleans. I took +the resolution, being so far away, of seeing the state institutions of +Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. Though this has proved +excessively fatiguing, I rejoice that I have carried out my purpose."</p> + +<p>Between June 1843 and August 1847, she states in a letter that she +traveled 32,470 miles, her conveyance being by steamboat when +possible; otherwise by stage-coach. It is suggestive of the wrecks and +delays she had experienced with the shattered coaches and mud roads of +the south and west that, as we are told, she "made a practice of +carrying with her an outfit of hammer, wrench, nails, screws, a coil +of rope, and straps of stout leather, which under many a mishap +sufficed to put things to rights and enable her to pursue her +journey." "I have encountered nothing so dangerous as river fords,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +she writes. "I crossed the Yadkin when it was three-quarters of a mile +wide, rough bottom, often in places rapid currents; the water always +up to the carriage bed, and sometimes flowing in. The horses rested +twice on sand-bars. A few miles beyond the river having just crossed a +deep branch two hundred yards wide, the axletree broke, and away +rolled one of the back wheels."</p> + +<p>When she said that river fords were her greatest danger, she must have +forgotten an encounter with a highwayman. She was making a stage +journey in Michigan, and noticed with some consternation that the +driver carried a brace of pistols. To her inquiries he explained that +there had been robberies on the road. "Give me the pistols," she said; +"I will take care of them." More in awe of her than of robbers, the +driver reluctantly obeyed. Passing through a dismal forest the +expected happened. A man seized the horses and demanded her purse. She +made him a little speech, asked if he was not ashamed, told him her +business, and concluded, "If you have been unfortunate, are in +distress and in want of money, I will give you some." Meanwhile the +robber had turned "deathly pale," and when she had finished, +ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>claimed, "My God, that voice." He had once heard her address the +prisoners in the Philadelphia penitentiary. He begged her to pass, and +declined to take the money she offered. She insisted, lest he might be +again tempted before he found employment. People obeyed when she +insisted, and he took her gift and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Think of the hotel accommodations,—the tables and beds,—she must +have encountered in these wild journeys. This is the woman who, a few +years ago, seemed to be dying with hemorrhages of the lungs. Did she +have no more of them? Oh, yes; we are assured that "again and again +she was attacked with hemorrhages and again and again prostrated by +malarial fever." A physician said, "Her system became actually +saturated with malaria." Invalid as she almost always was, she had +left her foot-prints in most of the states of the Union and had +carried the war into the British Provinces, where she had been the +means of establishing three insane hospitals: one in Toronto, one in +Halifax, one at St. John, Newfoundland, besides providing a fleet of +life-boats at Sable Island, known as "The Graveyard of Ships," off the +coast of Nova Scotia.</p> + +<p>In the United States, during these twelve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> years, she "promoted and +secured," to use her own phrase, the enlargement of three asylums: at +Worcester, Mass., at Providence, R. I., and at Utica, N. Y., and the +establishment of thirteen, one in each of the following states: New +Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, +Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, North Carolina, and +Maryland, with the Hospital for Insane Soldiers and Sailors, at +Washington, D. C.</p> + +<p>In 1850, Miss Dix proposed a larger scheme of philanthropy than was +ever before projected by any mortal. What is more, but for one man, +she would have carried it out. She petitioned Congress to appropriate +12,000,000 acres of public lands for the benefit of the indigent +insane, deaf and dumb, and blind. A bill to that effect was +introduced, watched by her through two sessions, and finally passed by +both Houses. She was inundated with congratulations from far and near; +but the bill was vetoed on constitutional grounds by President Pierce. +The day for giving away the public lands in sheets had not come.</p> + +<p>The blow seems to have been more than Miss Dix could endure. She went +abroad for change<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> and rest. What rest meant to her, she expresses in +a letter to a friend at home:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rest is not quitting the active career:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rest is the fitting of self to its sphere."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These lines, borrowed from John S. Dwight have been, not unnaturally, +attributed to her. She wrote many things perhaps quite as poetical.</p> + +<p>Not much of the verse, which came from her prolific pen, was +considered even by herself to deserve publication, but verse-writing +is said to had been the never-failing diversion of her leisure hours. +Mrs. Caroline A. Kennard credits her with the following lines which, +though very simple, are quite as good as much that has been +immortalized in our hymn books:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In the tender, peaceful moonlight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am from the world apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While a flood of golden glory<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fills alike my room and heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I gaze upon the radiance<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shining on me from afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can almost see beyond it,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Almost see 'the gates ajar.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tender thoughts arise within me<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Of the friends who've gone before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absent long but not forgotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Resting on the other shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And my soul is filled with longing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That when done with earth and sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may find the gates wide open<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There for me to enter in."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Apparently, she wrote her poetry for herself, as an unskilled musician +might play for his own amusement.</p> + +<p>The rest which Miss Dix allowed herself between September 1854 and +September 1856, was to visit the chief hospitals and prisons in +Europe. Edinburgh, the Channel Islands, Paris, Rome, Naples, +Constantinople, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Stockholm, Copenhagen, +Amsterdam, Brussels, and again Paris and London: these places mark the +course of her two years' pilgrimage among the prisons and hospitals of +Europe. She found much to admire in this journey, but sometimes abuses +to correct. We must content ourselves with an incident from Edinburgh, +perfectly in character. She found in that city private insane +hospitals, if they could be dignified by the name, under such +con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>ditions of mismanagement as shocked even her experienced nerves. +Having reported the facts to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh to no +purpose, she was advised to lay the matter before the Home Secretary +in London. The Provost knew of this intention and resolved to +forestall her by taking the train for London the next morning; so +little did he know Miss Dix. She boarded the night train, and was on +the spot before him, had her interview, secured the appointment of a +royal commission and, ultimately the correction of the abuses of which +she had complained.</p> + +<p>During the four years that intervened between her return and the +outbreak of the Civil War, she seems to have travelled over most of +her old ground in this country, and to have extended her journeys into +the new states and territories. At the approach of hostilities, it +fell to Miss Dix to give the President of the Philadelphia and +Baltimore Railroad the first information of a plot to capture the city +of Washington and to assassinate Mr. Lincoln. Acting upon this +information, Gen. Butler's Massachusetts troops were sent by boat +instead of rail, and Mr. Lincoln was "secretly smuggled through to +Washington."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>By natural selection, Miss Dix was appointed Superintendent of Women +Nurses in the federal service, by order of the Secretary of War. In +this capacity she served through the four years' struggle. In a letter +dated December 7, 1864, she writes: "I take no hour's leisure. I think +that since the war, I have taken no day's furlough." Her great +services were officially recognized by Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of +War.</p> + +<p>Having served the country as faithfully as any soldier, during its +hour of need, she returned to her former work of promoting and +securing the erection of hospitals and of visiting those before +established. In 1877, when Miss Dix was seventy-five, Dr. Charles F. +Folsom, of Boston, in a book entitled "Diseases of the Mind," said of +her: "Her frequent visits to our institutions of the insane now, and +her searching criticisms, constitute of themselves a better lunacy +commission than would be likely to be appointed in many of our +states."</p> + +<p>She was at that date, however, near the end of her active labors. In +1881, at the age of seventy-nine, she retired to the hospital she had +been the means of building in Trenton, N. J., and there she remained, +tenderly, even rever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>ently cared for, until her death in 1887. So +passed to her rest and her reward one of the most remarkable women of +her generation.</p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]<br />[Pg 164]<br />[Pg 165]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_V" id="Chapter_V"></a>V<br /><br /> +SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;"> +<img src="images/ossoli.jpg" width="437" height="500" alt="SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI" title="SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI" /> +<span class="caption">SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI</span> +</div> + +<p>At Cambridge, it is still possible to pick up interesting +reminiscences of Longfellow and Lowell from old neighbors or townsmen, +proud even to have seen these celebrities as familiar objects upon the +street. "And Margaret Fuller," you suggest, further to tap the memory +of your venerable friend. He smiles gently and says, Margaret Fuller +was before his time; he remembers the table-talk of his youth. He +remembers, when she was a girl at dancing-school, Papanti stopped his +class and said, "Mees Fuller, Mees Fuller, you sal not be so +magnee-fee-cent"; he remembers that, being asked if she thought +herself better than any one else, she calmly said, "Yes, I do"; and he +remembers that Miss Fuller having announced that she accepted the +universe, a wit remarked that the universe ought to be greatly obliged +to her.</p> + +<p>Margaret Fuller was born in 1810, a year later than Longfellow, but +while Longfellow lived until 1882, Margaret was lost at sea thirty +years before, in 1850. The last four years of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> her life were spent in +Italy, so that American memories of Margaret must needs go back to +1846. Practically it is traditions of her that remain, and not +memories. As she survives in tradition, she seems to have been a +person of inordinate vanity, who gave lectures in drawing-rooms and +called them "conversations," uttered a commonplace with the authority +of an oracle, and sentimentalized over art, poetry, or religion, while +she seemed to herself, and apparently to others, to be talking +philosophy. She took herself in all seriousness as a genius, ran a +dazzling career of a dozen years or so in Cambridge and Boston, and +then her light seems to have gone out. She came to the surface, with +other newness, in the Transcendental era; she was the priestess of its +mysteries; when that movement ebbed away, her day was over. This is +the impression one would gather, if he had only current oral +traditions of Margaret Fuller.</p> + +<p>If with this impression, wishing to get a first-hand knowledge of his +subject, a student were to read the "Works of Margaret Fuller":—"Life +Within and Without," "At Home and Abroad," "Woman in the Nineteenth +Century," "Art, Literature, and Drama,"—he would be prepared to find +eccentricities of style, straining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> for effect, mystical utterances, +attempts at profundity, and stilted commonplace. He would, however, +find nothing of this sort, or of any sort of make believe, but simply +a writer always in earnest, always convinced, with a fair English +style, perfectly intelligible, intent upon conveying an idea in the +simplest manner and generally an idea which approves itself to the +common-sense of the reader. There is no brilliancy, no ornament, +little imagination, and not a least glimmer of wit. The absence of wit +is remarkable, since in conversation, wit was a quality for which +Margaret was both admired and feared. But as a writer, Margaret was a +little prosaic,—even her poetry inclined to be prosaic,—but she is +earnest, noble, temperate, and reasonable. The reader will be +convinced that there was more in the woman than popular tradition +recognizes.</p> + +<p>One is confirmed in the conviction that the legend does her less than +justice when he knows the names and the quality of her friends. No +woman ever had better or more loyal friends than Margaret Fuller. +Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Freeman Clarke and William Henry Channing +were among them and compiled her "Memoirs," evidently as a labor of +love.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> George William Curtis knew her personally, and called her "a +scholar, a critic, a thinker, a queen of conversation, above all, a +person of delicate insight and sympathy, of the most feminine +refinement of feeling and of dauntless courage." Col. Higginson, a +fellow-townsman, who from youth to manhood, knew Margaret personally, +whose sisters were her intimates, whose family, as he tells us, was +"afterwards closely connected" with hers by marriage, and who has +studied all the documents and written her biography, says she was a +"person whose career is more interesting, as it seems to me, than that +of any other American of her sex; a woman whose aims were high and +whose services great; one whose intellect was uncommon, whose activity +was incessant, whose life, varied, and whose death, dramatic."</p> + +<p>There still remains the current legend, and a legend, presumably, has +some foundation. If we attempt to unite the Margaret Fuller of common +tradition with Margaret Fuller as estimated by her friends, we shall +assume that she was not a wholly balanced character,—that she must +have been a great and noble woman to have had such friends, but that +there may have been in her some element of foolishness which her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +friends excused and at which the public smiled.</p> + +<p>Margaret was the fifth in descent from Lieut. Thomas Fuller, who came +from England in 1638, and who celebrated the event in a poem of which +the first stanza is as follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In thirty-eight I set my foot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On this New England shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My thoughts were then to stay one year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then remain no more."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The poetry is on a level with other colonial poetry of the period.</p> + +<p>Timothy Fuller, the grandfather of Margaret, graduated at Harvard +College in 1760, became a clergyman, and was a delegate to the +Massachusetts State Convention which adopted the Federal Constitution. +He had five sons, all of whom became lawyers. "They were in general," +says Col. Higginson, "men of great energy, pushing, successful, of +immense and varied information, of great self-esteem, and without a +particle of tact." The evidence is that Margaret reproduced, in a +somewhat exaggerated form, all these Fuller characteristics, good and +bad. The saying is quoted from Horace Mann that if Margaret was +unpopular,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> "it was because she probably inherited the +disagreeableness of forty Fullers."</p> + +<p>Timothy Fuller, Margaret's father, was the oldest of these brothers +and, Col. Higginson says, "the most successful and the most assured." +He graduated at Harvard, second in his class, in 1801, lived in +Cambridge, and represented the Middlesex district in Congress from +1817 to 1825. He was a "Jeffersonian Democrat" and a personal friend +and political supporter of John Quincy Adams. He married Margaret, the +daughter of Major Peter Crane. Mrs. Fuller was as gentle and +unobtrusive as her stalwart husband was forceful and uncompliant. She +effaced herself even in her own home, was seen and not heard, though +apparently not very conspicuously seen. She had eight children, of +whom Margaret was the first, and when this busy mother escaped from +the care of the household, it was to take refuge in her flower garden. +A "fair blossom of the white amaranth," Margaret calls this mother. +The child's nature took something from both of her parents, and was +both strong and tender.</p> + +<p>Her father assumed the entire charge of Margaret's education, setting +her studying Latin at the age of six, not an unusual feat in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> that day +for a boy, but hitherto unheard of for a girl. Her lessons were +recited at night, after Mr. Fuller returned from his office in Boston, +often at a late hour. "High-pressure," says Col. Higginson, "is bad +enough for an imaginative and excitable child, but high-pressure by +candle-light is ruinous; yet that was the life she lived." The effect +of these night lessons was to leave the child's brain both tired and +excited and in no condition to sleep. It was considered singular that +she was never ready for bed. She was hustled off to toss on her +pillow, to see horrid visions, to have nightmare, and sometimes to +walk in her sleep. Terrible morning headaches followed, and Margaret +was considered a delicate child. One would like to know what Latin at +six would have done for her, without those recitations by +candle-light.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fuller did not consider it important that a child should have +juvenile books and Margaret's light reading consisted of Shakspere, +Cervantes, and Molière. She gives an interesting account of her +discovery of Shakspere at the age of eight. Foraging for entertainment +on a dismal winter Sunday afternoon, she took down a volume of +Shakspere and was soon lost in the adventures and misadventures of +Romeo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> and Juliet. Two hours passed, when the child's exceeding quiet +attracted attention. "That is no book for Sunday," said her father, +"put it away." Margaret obeyed, but soon took the book again to follow +the fortunes of her lovers further. This was a fatal indiscretion; the +forbidden volume was again taken from her and she was sent to bed as a +punishment for disobedience.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the daily lessons to her father or to a private tutor went +on; Virgil, Horace and Ovid were read in due course, and the study of +Greek was begun. Margaret never forgave her father for robbing her of +a proper childhood and substituting a premature scholastic education. +"I certainly do not wish," she says, "that instead of these masters, I +had read baby books, written down to children, but I do wish that I +had read no books at all till later,—that I had lived with toys and +played in the open air."</p> + +<p>Her early and solitary development entailed disadvantages which only a +very thoughtful parent could have foreseen. When, later, Margaret was +sent to school, she had no companions in study, being in advance of +the girls of her age, with whom she played, and too young for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> the +older set with whom she was called to recite. "Not only," she says, "I +was not their schoolmate, but my book-life and lonely habits had given +a cold aloofness to my whole expression, and veiled my manner with a +hauteur which turned all hearts away."</p> + +<p>The effects of her training upon her health, Margaret appears to have +exaggerated. She thought it had "checked her growth, wasted her +constitution," and would bring her to a "premature grave." While her +lessons to her father by candle-light continued, there were +sleeplessness, bad dreams, and morning headaches, but after this had +gone on one year, Mr. Fuller was elected to Congress, spent most of +his time in Washington, and a private tutor gave the lessons, +presumably at seasonable hours. No one with a "broken constitution" +could have performed her later literary labors, and she was not +threatened with a "premature grave" when Dr. Frederick Henry Hedge +made her acquaintance in Cambridge society. "Margaret," he says, "was +then about thirteen,—a child in years, but so precocious in her +mental and physical development, that she passed for eighteen or +twenty. Agreeably to this estimate, she had her place in society as a +full-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>grown lady. When I recall her personal appearance as she was +then, and for ten or twelve years subsequent, I have the idea of a +blooming girl of florid complexion and vigorous health, with a +tendency to robustness of which she was painfully conscious, and +which, with little regard to hygienic principles, she endeavored to +suppress and conceal, thereby preparing for herself much future +suffering." She had, he says, "no pretensions to beauty then, or at +any time," yet she "was not plain," a reproach from which she was +saved "by her blond and abundant hair, by her excellent teeth, by her +sparkling, dancing, busy eyes," and by a "graceful and peculiar +carriage of her head and neck." He adds that "in conversation she had +already, at that early age, begun to distinguish herself, and made +much the same impression in society that she did in after years," but +that she had an excessive "tendency to sarcasm" which frightened shy +young people and made her notoriously unpopular with the ladies.</p> + +<p>At this period Margaret attended a seminary for young ladies in +Boston. Cambridge was then, according to Col. Higginson, a vast, +sparsely settled village, containing between two and three thousand +inhabitants. In the Boston<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> school, Dr. Hedge says, "the inexperienced +country girl was exposed to petty persecutions from the dashing misses +of the city," and Margaret paid them off by "indiscriminate sarcasms."</p> + +<p>Margaret's next two years were spent at a boarding school in Groton. +Her adventures in this school are supposed to be narrated in her +dramatic story entitled "Mariana," in the volume called "Summer on the +Lakes." Mariana at first carried all before her "by her love of wild +dances and sudden song, her freaks of passion and wit," but abusing +her privileges, she is overthrown by her rebellious subjects, brought +to great humiliation, and receives some needed moral instructions.</p> + +<p>At fifteen, Margaret returned to Cambridge and resumed her private +studies, except that, for a Greek recitation, she attended an academy +in which Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was then fitting for college. Her +day at this period, as she gives it, was occupied thus: she rose +before five, walked an hour, and practiced at the piano till seven: +breakfasted and read French till eight; read Brown's philosophy, two +or three lectures, till half past nine; went to school and studied +Greek till twelve; recited, went home,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> and practiced till two; dined; +lounged half an hour, read two hours in Italian, walked or rode, and +spent her evenings leisurely with music or friends. Plainly she ought +to have been one of the learned women of her generation.</p> + +<p>A school composition of Margaret impressed her fellow pupil, Dr. +Holmes, as he relates, with a kind of awe. It began loftily with the +words, "It is a trite remark," a phrase which seemed to the boy very +masterful. The girls envied her a certain queenliness of manner. "We +thought," says one of them, "that if we could only come into school in +that way, we could know as much Greek as she did." She was accustomed +to fill the hood of her cloak with books, swing them over her +shoulder, and march away. "We wished," says this lady, "that our +mothers would let us have hooded cloaks, that we might carry our books +in the same way."</p> + +<p>It is known that Margaret had several love affairs and, in a later +letter, she refers to one which belongs to this period, and which +appears to have been the first of the series. She meets her old adorer +again at the age of thirty and writes to a friend who knew of the +youthful episode. He had the same powerful eye, calm wisdom, refined +observation and "the imposing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> <em>maniere d'etre</em> which anywhere would +give him influence among men"; but in herself, she says, "There is +scarcely a fibre left of the haughty, passionate, ambitious child he +remembered and loved."</p> + +<p>Though a precocious girl and in a way fascinating, there is evidence +that Margaret was crude and unformed socially, due perhaps to the +habit of considering her mother as a negligible quantity. Cambridge +ladies preserved an unpleasant portrait of the child as she appeared +at a grand reception given by Mr. Fuller to President Adams in 1826, +"one of the most elaborate affairs of the kind," says Col. Higginson, +"that had occurred in Cambridge since the ante-revolutionary days of +the Lechmeres and Vassals." Margaret ought to have been dressed by an +artist, but apparently, a girl of sixteen, she was left to her own +devices. She appeared, we are told, with a low-necked dress badly cut, +tightly laced, her arms held back as if pinioned, her hair curled all +over her head, and she danced quadrilles very badly. This escapade was +not allowed to repeat itself. Certain kind and motherly Cambridge +ladies took the neglected child in hand, tamed her rude strength, and +subdued her manners. Col. Higginson mentions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> half a dozen of these +excellent ladies, among them his mother, at whose feet "this studious, +self-conscious, overgrown girl" would sit, "covering her hands with +kisses and treasuring every word."</p> + +<p>Chief among Margaret's motherly friends was Mrs. Eliza Farrar, wife of +a Harvard professor, an authoress of merit, "of uncommon character and +cultivation, who had lived much in Europe, and who, with no children +of her own," became a kind of foster-mother to Margaret. She had +Margaret "constantly at her own house, reformed her hairdresser, +instructed her dressmaker, and took her to make calls and on +journeys." Margaret was an apt pupil, and the good training of these +many Cambridge mothers was apparent when, ten years later, Mr. Emerson +made her acquaintance. "She was then, as always," he says, "carefully +and becomingly dressed, and of lady-like self-possession."</p> + +<p>The seven years in Cambridge, from Margaret's fifteenth to her +twenty-third year, though uneventful, were, considering merely the +pleasure of existence, the most delightful of her life. She was a +school-girl as much or as little as she cared to be; her health, when +not over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>taxed, was perfect; her family though not rich, were in easy +circumstances; her father was distinguished, having just retired from +Congress after eight years of creditable service; and, partly perhaps +from her father's distinction, she had access to the best social +circles of Cambridge. "In our evening reunions," says Dr. Hedge, "she +was always conspicuous by the brilliancy of her wit, which needed but +little provocation to break forth in exuberant sallies, that drew +around her a knot of listeners, and made her the central attraction of +the hour. Rarely did she enter a company in which she was not a +prominent object." Her conversational talent "continued to develop +itself in these years, and was certainly" he thinks, "her most decided +gift. One could form no adequate idea of her ability without hearing +her converse.... For some reason or other, she could never deliver +herself in print as she did with her lips." Emerson, in perfect +agreement with this estimate says, "Her pen was a non-conductor." The +reader will not think this true in her letters, where often the words +seem to palpitate. Doubtless the world had no business to see her love +letters, but one will find there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> a woman who, if she could speak as +she writes, must have poured herself out in tidal waves.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hedge was struck by two traits of Margaret's character, repeatedly +mentioned by others, but to which it is worth while to have his +testimony. The first was a passionate love for the beautiful: "I have +never known one who seemed to derive such satisfaction from beautiful +forms"; the second was "her intellectual sincerity. Her judgment took +no bribes from her sex or her sphere, nor from custom, nor tradition, +nor caprice."</p> + +<p>Margaret was nineteen years old when Dr. James Freeman Clarke, then a +young man in college, made her acquaintance. "We both lived in +Cambridge," he says, "and from that time until she went to reside in +Groton in 1833, I saw her or heard from her almost every day. There +was a family connection between us, and we called each other cousins." +Possessing in a greater degree than any person he ever knew, the power +of magnetizing others, she had drawn about her a circle of girl +friends whom she entertained and delighted by her exuberant talent. +They came from Boston, Charlestown, Roxbury, Brookline, and met now at +one house and now at another of these pleasant towns.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> Dr. Hedge also +knows of this charming circle, and says, "she loved to draw these fair +girls to herself, and make them her guests, and was never so happy as +when surrounded in company, by such a bevy."</p> + +<p>With all her social activity, Margaret kept up her studies at a rate +that would be the despair of a young man in college. "She already, +when I first became acquainted with her," says Dr. Clarke, "had become +familiar with the masterpieces of French, Italian, and Spanish +literature," and was beginning German, and in about three months, she +was reading with ease the masterpieces of German literature. +Meanwhile, she was keeping up her Greek as a pastime, reading over and +over the dialogues of Plato. Still there is time for Mr. Clarke to +walk with her for hours beneath the lindens or in the garden, or, on a +summer's day to ride with her on horseback from Cambridge to +Newton,—a day he says, "all of a piece, in which my eloquent +companion helped me to understand my past life and her own."</p> + +<p>We cannot wonder that, at the age of twenty-three, Margaret +reluctantly left Cambridge where there was so much that she loved, and +went with her family to a farm in Groton where,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> with certain +unpleasant school-girl memories, there was nothing that she loved at +all. In 1833, at the age of sixty-five Mr. Fuller retired from his law +practice and bought an estate in Groton, with the double purpose of +farming his lands for income, and, in his leisure, writing a history +of the United States, for which his public life had been a +preparation, and towards which he had collected much material. +Margaret's most exacting duties were the education of the younger +children, which left her much time for her favorite studies. She had +correspondents by the score; her friends visited her; Cambridge homes +were open to her; and Mrs. Farrar took her on a delightful journey to +Newport, Hudson River and Trenton Falls. Still we cannot add the two +years in Groton to her happy period, because she allowed herself to be +intensely miserable. Six years later, in a moment of penitence, she +said of this period, "Had I been wise in such matters then as now, how +easy and fair I might have made the whole."</p> + +<p>She fought her homesickness by overwork, so that Emerson says, "her +reading in Groton was at a rate like Gibbon's," and she paid the +penalty of her excesses by a serious illness which threatened to be +fatal, and from which perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> she never fully recovered. It was some +consolation that her father was melted to an unwonted exhibition of +tenderness, and that he said to her in this mood, "My dear, I have +been thinking of you in the night, and I cannot remember that you have +any faults. You have defects, of course, as all mortals have, but I do +not know that you have a single fault."</p> + +<p>Events were soon to make this remark one of her dearest memories. In a +short time, death separated the father and child, who had been so much +to each other. In 1835, Mr. Fuller fell a victim to cholera, and died +in three days. For a year or more, Margaret's heart had been set upon +a visit to Europe for study; the trip had been promised by her father; +it had been arranged that she should accompany her friends, the +Farrars; but the death of Mr. Fuller dissolved this dream, and, in her +journal, solemnly praying that "duty may now be the first object and +self set aside," she dedicates her strength to her "mother, brothers, +and sister." No one can read the "Memoirs" without feeling that she +kept her vows.</p> + +<p>The estate of Mr. Fuller finally yielded $2,000 to each of the seven +children, much less, Margaret says, than was anticipated. With<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +reason, she wrote, "Life, as I look forward, presents a scene of +struggle and privation only." In the winter, at Mrs. Farrar's, +Margaret met Mr. Emerson; the summer following she visited at his +house in Concord. There she met Mr. Alcott and engaged to teach in his +school in Boston.</p> + +<p>Margaret Fuller's visit at Mr. Emerson's in 1836 had for her very +important consequences. It was the first of many visits and was the +beginning of an intimacy which takes its place among the most +interesting literary friendships in the history of letters. To this +friendship Col. Higginson devotes a separate chapter in his biography +of Margaret, and in the "Memoirs," under the title of "Visits to +Concord," Mr. Emerson gives a charming account of it in more than a +hundred pages.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emerson was by no means the stranger to Margaret that she was to +him. She had sat under his preaching during his pastorate at the +Second Church in Boston, and "several of his sermons," so she wrote to +a friend, "stood apart in her memory like landmarks in her spiritual +history." It appears that she had failed to come to close quarters +with this timid apostle. A year after he left his pulpit, she wrote of +him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> as the "only clergyman of all possible clergymen who eludes my +acquaintance."</p> + +<p>When, at length, she was invited to Concord, it was as Mrs. Emerson's +guest, not as his: "she came to spend a fortnight with my wife." +However, at last she was under his roof. "I still remember," he says, +"the first half hour of her conversation.... Her extreme plainness,—a +trick of incessantly opening and shutting her eyelids,—the nasal tone +of her voice—all repelled; and I said to myself, we shall never get +far.... I remember that she made me laugh more than I liked.... She +had an incredible variety of anecdotes, and the readiest wit to give +an absurd turn to whatever passed; and the eyes, which were so plain +at first, soon swam with fun and drolleries, and the very tides of joy +and superabundant life."</p> + +<p>The practical outcome of the visit was an engagement to teach in Mr. +Alcott's school. Under date of August 2, 1836, Mr. Alcott writes, +"Emerson called this morning and took me to Concord to spend the day. +At his house, I met Margaret Fuller ... and had some conversation with +her about taking Miss Peabody's place in my school." That is to say, +Mr. Emerson had in his house a brilliant young lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> who, by stress of +circumstances, wanted a situation; he had a friend in Boston in whose +school there was a vacancy; Mr. Emerson, at some pains to himself, +brought the parties together. Nor was this the last time that Mr. +Emerson befriended Margaret.</p> + +<p>It appears from Mr. Alcott's diary that Miss Fuller began her +engagement with January, that she taught Latin and French at the +school, and French, German, and Italian to private classes. For a +class of beginners, she "thought it good success," she says, "when at +the end of three months, they could read twenty pages of German at a +lesson, and very well." An advanced class in German read Goethe's +Hermann and Dorothea, Goetz von Berlichingen, Iphigenia, and the first +part of Faust, "three weeks of thorough study," she calls it, "as +valuable to me as to them."</p> + +<p>The class in Italian went at an equal pace. At the same time she had +three private pupils, to one of whom, every day for ten weeks, she +taught Latin "orally,"—in other words, Latin conversation. In her +leisure, she "translated, one evening every week, German authors into +English for the gratification of Dr. Channing." It is to be hoped that +she was paid for this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> service, because she found it far from +interesting. "It is not very pleasant," she writes, "for Dr. Channing +takes in subjects more deliberately than is conceivable to us feminine +people."</p> + +<p>In the spring of 1837, Margaret accepted an invitation to teach in a +private academy in Providence, R. I.—four hours a day, at a salary of +$1,000. We are not told how this invitation came to her, but it is not +difficult to detect the hand of Mr. Emerson. The proprietor of the +school was an admirer of Emerson, so much so that he brought Emerson +from Concord in June following, to dedicate a new school building. His +relation to both parties makes it probable that Margaret owed her +second engagement, as she did her first, to the good offices of Mr. +Emerson.</p> + +<p>She taught in this school with success, two years, "worshipped by the +girls," it is said, "but sometimes too sarcastic for the boys." The +task of teaching, however, was irksome to her, her mind was in +literature; she had from Mr. Ripley a definite proposition to write a +"Life of Goethe," a task of which she had dreamed many years; and she +resigned her position, and withdrew from the profession of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +school-teacher, at the end of 1838. Her life of Goethe was never +written, but it was always dancing before her eyes and, more than +once, determined her course.</p> + +<p>In the following spring, Margaret took a pleasant house in Jamaica +Plain, "then and perhaps now," Col. Higginson says, "the most rural +and attractive suburb of Boston." Here she brought her mother and the +younger children. Three years later, she removed with them to +Cambridge, and for the next five years, she kept the family together, +and made a home for them. In addition to the income of the estate, she +expected to meet her expenses by giving lessons. Two pupils came with +her from Providence, and other pupils came for recitations, by whom +she was paid at the rate of two dollars an hour.</p> + +<p>With these resources the life in Jamaica Plain began very quietly and +pleasantly. To be quiet however was not natural to Margaret. Besides, +she had fallen upon what, intellectually, were stirring times. It was +at the high tide of the Transcendental movement. William Henry +Channing who, like Margaret, was a part of it, says, "the summer of +1839 saw the full dawn of this strange enthusiasm." As he briefly +defines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> it "Transcendentalism, as viewed by its disciples, was a +pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds and rituals to the +temple of the living God in the soul." Its disciples, says Mr. +Channing, "were pleasantly nick-named the 'Like-minded,' on the ground +that no two were of the same opinion." Of this company, he says, +"Margaret was a member by the grace of nature.... Men, her superiors +in years, in fame and social position, treated her more with the +frankness due from equal to equal, than the half condescending +deference with which scholars are wont to adapt themselves to +women.... It was evident that they prized her verdict, respected her +criticism, feared her rebuke, and looked to her as an umpire." In +speaking, "her opening was deliberate, like the progress of a massive +force gaining its momentum; but as she felt her way, and moving in a +congenial element, the sweep of her speech became grand. The style of +her eloquence was sententious, free from prettiness, direct, vigorous, +charged with vitality."</p> + +<p>It was a saying of hers that if she had been a man, she would have +aspired to become an orator, and it seems probable she would not have +aspired in vain. The natural sequel to the occasional<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> discussions of +the summer was the formation of a class of ladies for Conversation, +with Margaret as the leader. This class contained twenty-five or +thirty ladies, among whom were Mrs. George Bancroft, Mrs. Lydia Maria +Child, Mrs. Horace Mann, Mrs. Theodore Parker, Mrs. Waldo Emerson, +Mrs. George Ripley, and Mrs. Josiah Quincy. The first series of +thirteen meetings was immediately followed by a second series; they +were resumed the next winter and were continued with unabated interest +for five years.</p> + +<p>The subjects considered in these celebrated Conversations ranged over +a very wide field, from mythology and religion, poetry and art, to +war, ethics, and sociology. If Margaret had not been brilliant in +these assemblies, she would have fallen short of herself as she has +been represented in the Cambridge drawing-rooms. As reported by one of +the members of the class, "Margaret used to come to the conversations +very well dressed and, altogether, looked sumptuously. She began them +with an exordium in which she gave her leading views,"—a part which +she is further said to have managed with great skill and charm, after +which she invited others to join in the discussion. Mr. Emerson tells +us that the apparent sumptuous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>ness in her attire was imaginary, the +"effect of a general impression made by her genius and mistakenly +attributed to some external elegance; for," he says, "I have been told +by her most intimate friend, who knew every particular of her conduct +at the time, that there was nothing of especial expense or splendor in +her toilette."</p> + +<p>Mr. Emerson knew a lady "of eminent powers, previously by no means +partial to Margaret," who said, on leaving one of these assemblies, "I +never heard, read of, or imagined a conversation at all equal to this +we have now heard." Many testimonies have been brought together, in +the "Memoirs," of the enthusiasm and admiration created by Margaret in +these Conversations. They were probably her most brilliant +achievements, though, in the nature of the case, nothing survives of +them but the echo in these recorded memories of participants.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emerson says that "the fame of these conversations" led to a +proposal that Margaret should undertake an evening class to which +gentlemen should be admitted and that he himself had the pleasure of +"assisting at one—the second—of these soirees." Margaret "spoke +well—she could not otherwise,—but I remember that she seemed +encumbered, or interrupted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> by the headiness or incapacity of the +men." A lady who attended the entire series, a "true hand," he says, +reports that "all that depended on others entirely failed" and that +"even in the point of erudition, which Margaret did not profess on the +subject, she proved the best informed of the party." This testimony is +worth something in answer to the charge that Margaret's scholarship +was fictitious, that she had a smattering of many things, but knew +nothing thoroughly. She seems to have compared well with others, some +of whom were considered scholars. "Take her as a whole," said Mr. +Emerson's informant, "she has the most to bestow on others by +conversation of any person I have ever known."</p> + +<p>For these services, Margaret seems to have received liberal +compensation, though all was so cordial that she says she never had +the feeling of being "a paid Corinne." For the conversations with +ladies and gentlemen, according to Mrs. Dall who has published her +notes of them, the tickets were $20 each, for the series of ten +evenings.</p> + +<p>It appears from his account that Mr. Emerson saw much of Margaret +during these years and that she was frequently his guest. "The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> day," +he says, "was never long enough to exhaust her opulent memory; and I, +who knew her intimately for ten years,—from July, 1836, till August, +1846, when she sailed for Europe,—never saw her without a surprise at +her new powers." She was as busy as he, and they seldom met in the +forenoon, but "In the evening, she came to the library, and many and +many a conversation was there held," he tells us, "whose details, if +they could be preserved, would justify all encomiums. They interested +me in every manner;—talent, memory, wit, stern introspection, poetic +play, religion, the finest personal feeling, the aspects of the +future, each followed each in full activity, and left me, I remember, +enriched, and sometimes astonished by the gifts of my guest."</p> + +<p>She was "rich in friends," and wore them "as a necklace of diamonds +about her neck." "She was an active and inspiring companion and +correspondent, and all the art, the thought and nobleness of New +England seemed, at that moment, related to her and she to it. She was +everywhere a welcome guest.... Her arrival was a holiday, and so was +her abode ... all tasks that could be suspended were put aside to +catch the favorable hour, in walk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>ing, riding, or boating to talk with +this joyful guest, who brought wit, anecdotes, love-stories, +tragedies, oracles with her, and, with her broad relations to so many +fine friends, seemed like the queen of some parliament of love, who +carried the key to all confidences, and to whom every question had +been finally referred."</p> + +<p>At a later day, when Margaret was in Italy, reports came back that she +was making conquests, and having advantageous offers of marriage. Even +Mr. Emerson expressed surprise at these social successes in a strange +land, but a lady said to him, "There is nothing extraordinary in it. +Had she been a man, any one of those fine girls of sixteen, who +surrounded her here, would have married her: they were all in love +with her."</p> + +<p>"Of personal influence, speaking strictly,—an efflux, that is, purely +of mind and character," Mr. Emerson thinks she had more than any other +person he ever knew. Even a recluse like Hawthorne yielded to this +influence. Hawthorne was married to Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842, and +began housekeeping in the Old Manse in Concord. The day following +their engagement Miss Peabody wrote Miss Fuller addressing her "Dear, +most noble Margaret," and say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>ing, "I feel that you are entitled, +through our love and regard to be told directly.... Mr. Hawthorne, +last evening, in the midst of his emotions, so deep and absorbing, +after deciding, said that Margaret can now, when she visits Mr. +Emerson spend part of the time with us." A month after the marriage, +Hawthorne himself wrote to Margaret, "There is nobody to whom I would +more willingly speak my mind, because I can be certain of being +understood." Evidently he is not beginning an acquaintance; he already +knows Margaret intimately and respects her thoroughly. There is no +evidence, I believe, that during her life, he held any different +opinion of her.</p> + +<p>These facts have become of special interest because, in Italy, eight +years after her death, he wrote in his Note-Book, that Margaret "had a +strong and coarse nature" and that "she was a great humbug." The most +reasonable explanation of this change of view is that Margaret was +dead, poor woman, and could not speak for herself; that she had fought +with all her might in an Italian Revolution that had failed; that +having failed, she and her party were discredited; that her enemies +survived, and Hawthorne listened to them. However his later opinions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +may be explained, the quality of her friends in America, among whom +had been Hawthorne himself, is evidence that Margaret was not of a +"coarse nature," and it is incredible that a "humbug" could have +imposed herself for five years upon those ladies who attended her +conversations, not to speak of James Freeman Clarke who was a fair +scholar and Dr. Hedge who was a very rare scholar.</p> + +<p>Margaret had her weaknesses, which her friends do not conceal. It was +a weakness, not perhaps that she overestimated herself; that might be +pardoned; but that she took no pains to conceal her high opinion of +her abilities and worth. One likes to see an appearance of modesty, +and that little deceit Margaret did not practice. On the contrary, Mr. +Emerson says, "Margaret at first astonished and then repelled us by a +complacency that seemed the most assured since the days of +Scaligar.... In the coolest way, she said to her friends, 'I now know +all the people worth knowing in America, and I find no intellect +comparable to my own.'... It is certain that Margaret occasionally let +slip, with all the innocence imaginable, some phrase betraying the +presence of a rather mountainous ME, in a way to surprise those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> who +knew her good sense." Col. Higginson quotes a saying about the +Fullers, that "Their only peculiarity was that they said openly about +themselves the good and bad things which we commonly suppress about +ourselves and express only about other people." The common way is not +more sincere, but it is pleasanter.</p> + +<p>In 1840, the second year of Margaret's Conversations, appeared the +first number of <em>The Dial</em>, a literary magazine of limited +circulation, but destined to a kind of post-mortem immortality. In +1841, the Community of Brook Farm was established. An interesting +account of both enterprises, and of Margaret's part in them, is given +by Mr. Emerson in a paper found in the tenth volume of his collected +Works. In the preliminary discussions leading to both enterprises, +Margaret participated. Like Mr. Emerson, she did not have unqualified +faith in the Brook Farm experiment and did not join the community, +though she had many friends in it, was a frequent visitor, and had the +honor to sit for the portrait of "Zenobia" in Mr. Hawthorne's +Blithedale Romance.</p> + +<p>Her part in <em>The Dial</em> was more prominent. She edited the first two +volumes of the magazine, being then succeeded by Mr. Emerson, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +wrote for it a paper entitled "Man vs. Men: Woman vs. Women," +afterward expanded and published in a volume under the title, "Woman +in the Nineteenth Century," her second and most famous book. Her first +book, "Summer on the Lakes," is an account of a charming journey, with +the family of James Freeman Clarke and others, by steamboat and farm +wagon, as far as the Mississippi. It was a voyage of discovery, and +her account has permanent historic interest.</p> + +<p>In 1844, Margaret accepted an advantageous offer to become literary +editor of the <em>New York Tribune</em>, a position which she was admirably +qualified to fill. A collection of papers from <em>The Tribune</em>, under +the title of "Literature and Art," made up her third book, published +in 1846, on the eve of her departure for Europe.</p> + +<p>During her residence in New York, she became greatly interested in +philanthropies, especially in the care of prisoners of her own sex. +She visited the jails and prisons, interviewed the inmates, gave them +"conversations," and wrought upon them the same miracle which she had +so often performed in refined drawing-rooms. "If she had been born to +large fortune," said Mr. Greeley, "a house of refuge for all female +outcasts desiring to return to the ways of virtue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> would have been one +of her most cherished and first realized conceptions."</p> + +<p>Early in her New York residence must also have occurred that rather +mysterious love affair with the young Hebrew, Mr. Nathan, who seems +first to have charmed her with his music and then with his heart. +After nearly sixty years, the letters which she wrote him, full of +consuming fire, have at last seen the light. From a passage in one of +them, it would seem that marriage was not contemplated by either +party, that in theory at least they took no thought of the morrow, the +bliss of the moment being held sufficient. Evidently there was no +engagement, but no one can doubt that on her part there was love. Of +course in this changing world, no such relations can be maintained for +ever, and in the end there will be an awakening, and then pain.</p> + +<p>In 1846, Margaret realized her life-dream and went to Europe. Destined +to a life of adventure, she was accidently separated from her party, +and spent a perilous night on Ben Lomond, without a particle of +shelter, in a drenching rain, a thrilling account of which she has +written. She visited Carlyle and, for a wonder, he let her take a +share in the conversation. To Mr. Emerson he wrote, Margaret "is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> very +narrow sometimes, but she is truly high."</p> + +<p>On her way to Italy, the goal of her ambition, she visited George Sand +and they had such a meeting as two women of genius might. She sailed +from Genoa for Naples in February, 1847, and arrived in Rome in May +following. There is much to interest a reader in her Italian life, but +the one thing which cannot be omitted is the story of her marriage to +the Marquis Ossoli. Soon after her arrival in Rome, on a visit to St. +Peter's, Margaret became separated from her friends, whom she did not +again discover at the place appointed for meeting. A gentleman seeing +her distress, offered to get her a carriage and, not finding one, +walked home with her. This was the young Marquis Ossoli, and thus +fortuitously the acquaintance began, which was continued by occasional +meetings. The summer Margaret spent in the north of Italy, and when +she returned to Rome, she took modest apartments in which she received +her friends every Monday evening, and the Marquis came very regularly.</p> + +<p>It was not long however before he confessed his love for her and asked +her hand in marriage. He was gently rejected, being told that he ought +to marry a younger woman, and that she would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> be his friend but not +his wife. He however persisted, at length won her consent, and they +were privately married in December. I follow the account of Mrs. +William Story, wife of the artist, then residing in Rome. The old +Marquis Ossoli had recently died, leaving an unsettled estate, of +which his two older sons, both in the Papal service, were the +executors. "Every one knows," says Mrs. Story, "that law is subject to +ecclesiastical influence in Rome, and that marriage with a Protestant +would be destructive of all prospect of favorable administration."</p> + +<p>The birth of a child a year later, at Rieti in the Appenines, whither +Margaret had retired, made secrecy seem more imperative; or, as +Margaret said, in order to defend the child "from the stings of +poverty, they were patient waiters for the restored law of the land." +The Italian Revolution of 1848 was then in progress. Ossoli her +husband, was a captain in the Civic Guard, on duty in Rome, and the +letters which she wrote him at this period of trial, were the only +fragments of her treasures recovered from the wreck in which she +perished.</p> + +<p>Leaving her babe with his nurse, in April following, she visited Rome +and was shut up in the siege by the French army which had been sent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +to overthrow the provisional government and restore the authority of +the pope. "Ossoli took station with his men on the walls of the +Vatican garden where he remained faithfully to the end of the attack. +Margaret had entire charge of one of the hospitals.... I have walked +through the wards with her," says Mrs. Story, "and seen how comforting +was her presence to the poor suffering men. 'How long will the Signora +stay?' 'When will the Signora come again?' they eagerly asked.... They +raised themselves up on their elbows to get the last glimpse of her as +she was going away."</p> + +<p>In the midst of these dangers, Margaret confided to Mrs. Story the +secret of her marriage and placed in her hands the marriage +certificate and other documents relating to the affair. These papers +were afterward returned to Margaret and were lost in the wreck.</p> + +<p>The failure of the Revolution was the financial ruin of all those who +had staked their fortunes in it. They had much reason to be thankful +if they escaped with their lives. By the intervention of friends, the +Ossolis were dealt with very leniently. Mr. Greenough, the artist, +interested himself in their behalf and procured for them permission to +retire, outside the papal territory,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> to Florence. Ossoli even +obtained a small part of his patrimony.</p> + +<p>Except the disappointment and sorrow over the faded dream of Italian +Independence, the winter at Florence was one of the bright spots in +Margaret's life. She was proud of her husband's part in the +Revolution: "I rejoice," she says, "in all Ossoli did." She had her +babe with her and her happiness in husband and child was perfect: "My +love for Ossoli is most pure and tender, nor has any one, except my +mother or little children, loved me so genuinely as he does.... Ossoli +seems to me more lovely and good every day; our darling child is well +now, and every day more gay and playful."</p> + +<p>She found pleasant and congenial society: "I see the Brownings often," +she says, "and love them both more and more as I know them better. Mr. +Browning enriches every hour I spend with him, and is a most cordial, +true, and noble man. One of my most prized Italian friends, +Marchioness Arconati Visconti, of Milan, is passing the winter here, +and I see her almost every day." Moreover she was busy with a +congenial task. At the very opening of the struggle for liberty, she +planned to write a history of the eventful period, and with this +purpose, collected material<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> for the undertaking, and already had a +large part of the work in manuscript. She finished the writing in +Florence, and much value was set upon it both by herself and by her +friends in Italy. Mrs. Story says, "in the estimation of most of those +who were in Italy at the time, the loss of Margaret's history and +notes is a great and irreparable one. No one could have possessed so +many avenues of direct information from both sides."</p> + +<p>When the spring opened, it was decided to return to America, partly to +negotiate directly with the publisher, but chiefly because, having +exhausted her resources, Margaret's pen must henceforth be the main +reliance of the little family. It is pathetic to know that, after +their passage had been engaged, "letters came which, had they reached +her a week earlier, would probably have induced them to remain in +Italy."</p> + +<p>They sailed, May 17, 1850, in a merchant vessel, the only other +passengers being the baby's nurse and Mr. Horace Sumner, a younger +brother of Senator Sumner. After a protracted and troubled voyage of +two months, the vessel arrived off the coast of New Jersey, on July +18. The "weather was thick.... By nine p. m. there was a gale, by +midnight a hurri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>cane," and at four o'clock on the morning of July 19, +the vessel grounded on the shallow sands of Fire Island. The captain +had died of smallpox on the voyage; his widow, the mate in command of +the vessel, and four seamen reached the shore; Mr. Sumner and the +Ossolis perished. The cruel part of the tragedy is that it seems +probable every soul on board might have been saved. Life-boats, only +three miles away, did not arrive until noon; that is, after eight +precious hours had passed. Moreover, in a moment of penitence, one of +the life-boat crew said, "Oh, if we had known that any such persons of +importance were on board, we should have done our best."</p> + +<p>Margaret, the name by which she will always be known, had passed her +fortieth birthday at sea on this voyage. It seems a short life in +which to have crowded so much and such varied experience. She had some +trials even in her youth, but for two-thirds of her existence, she +might have been considered a favorite of fortune. In later life, she +had some battles to fight, but her triumphs were great enough to +dazzle a person with more modesty than was her endowment. She suffered +in Italy, both for her child left to strangers in the mountains, and +for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> her adopted country, but they were both causes, in which for her, +suffering was a joy. She did not desire to survive her husband and +child, nor to leave them behind, and, we may say, happily they all +went together. "Her life seems to me," says Col. Higginson, "on the +whole, a triumphant rather than a sad one," and that is a reasonable +verdict, however difficult to render in the presence of such a tragedy +as her untimely death.</p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]<br />[Pg 208]<br />[Pg 209]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VI" id="Chapter_VI"></a>VI<br /><br /> +HARRIET BEECHER STOWE</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> +<img src="images/stowe.jpg" width="440" height="500" alt="HARRIET BEECHER STOWE" title="HARRIET BEECHER STOWE" /> +<span class="caption">HARRIET BEECHER STOWE</span> +</div> + +<p>"Is this the little woman who made this great war!" exclaimed +President Lincoln when, in 1862, Mrs. Stowe was introduced to him. +There was but one woman in America to whom this could have been said +without absurdity. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was so conspicuous a factor in +bringing on the war which abolished American slavery that to credit +these results to Mrs. Stowe was not fulsome flattery but graceful +compliment.</p> + +<p>There are two excellent biographies of Mrs. Stowe, one published in +1889, by her son, Rev. Charles E. Stowe, and one, in 1897, by Mrs. +Annie Fields. That work will hardly need to be done again. The object +of this sketch is to study the influences that moulded Mrs. Stowe, to +present the salient features of her career, and, incidentally, to +discover her characteristic qualities. Her fame rests upon her +literary achievements, and these are comparatively well known. Her +literary career can hardly be said to have begun until the age of +forty and, if this were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> the only interest her life had for us, we +could pass hastily over her youth. It will be found however that her +religious development, begun prematurely with her fourth year and +continued without consideration or discretion until at seventeen she +became a chronic invalid, gives a kind of tragic interest to her +earlier years. Her religious education may not have been unique; it +may have been characteristic of much of the religious life of New +England, but girls set at work upon the problems of their souls at the +age of four have seldom attained the distinction of having their +biographies written, so that one can study their history.</p> + +<p>Harriet, the second daughter and seventh child of Lyman Beecher and +Roxanna Foote, was born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1811. There +were three Mrs. Lyman Beechers of whom Roxanna Foote was the first. +The Footes were Episcopalians, Harriet, sister of Roxanna, being as +Mrs. Stowe says, "the highest of High Churchwomen who in her private +heart did not consider my father an ordained minister." Roxanna, +perhaps not so high-church, held out for two years against Dr. +Beecher's assaults upon her heart and then consented to become his +wife.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>Mrs. Beecher was a refined and cultivated lady who "read all the new +works that were published at that day," numbered painting among her +accomplishments, and whose house "was full of little works of +ingenuity and taste and skill, which had been wrought by her hand: +pictures of birds and flowers, done with minutest skill"; but her +greatest charm was a religious nature full of all gentleness and +sweetness. "In no exigency," says Dr. Beecher, "was she taken by +surprise. She was just there, quiet as an angel above." There seems to +have been but one thing which this saintly woman with an Episcopalian +education could not do to meet the expectations of a Congregational +parish, and that was that "in the weekly female prayer-meeting she +could never lead the devotions"; but from this duty she seems to have +been excused because of her known sensitiveness and timidity.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Beecher died when Harriet was in her fourth year, but she left an +indelible impression upon her family. Her "memory met us everywhere," +says Mrs. Stowe; "when father wished to make an appeal to our hearts +which he knew we could not resist, he spoke of mother." It had been +the mother's prayer that her sons, of whom there were six, should be +ministers, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> ministers they all were. One incident Mrs. Stowe +remembered which may be supposed to have set Sunday apart as a day of +exceptional sanctity. It was that "of our all running and dancing out +before her from the nursery to the sitting-room one Sabbath morning +and her pleasant voice saying after us, 'Remember the Sabbath day to +keep it holy.'" Such early religious impressions made upon the mind of +a child of four would have faded in other surroundings, but it will be +seen that Harriet's environment gave no rest to her little soul.</p> + +<p>After the death of her mother, the child was sent to her grandmother +Foote's for a long visit. There she fell to the charge of her aunt +Harriet, than whom, we are told, "a more energetic human being never +undertook the education of a child." According to her views, "little +girls were to be taught to move very gently, to speak softly and +prettily, to say 'Yes ma'am' and 'No ma'am,' never to tear their +clothes, to sew and knit at regular hours, to go to church on Sunday +and make all the responses, and to come home and be catechised. I +remember those catechisings when she used to place my little cousin +Mary and myself bolt upright at her knee while black Dinah and Harvey, +the bound boy, were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> ranged at a respectful distance behind us.... I +became a proficient in the Church catechism and gave my aunt great +satisfaction by the old-fashioned gravity and steadiness with which I +learned to repeat it." This early training in the catechism and the +responses bore fruit in giving Mrs. Stowe a life-long fondness for the +Episcopal service and ultimately in taking her into the Episcopal +Church, of which during her last thirty years she was a communicant. +Harriet signalized her fifth year by committing to memory twenty-seven +hymns and "two long chapters of the Bible," and even more perhaps, by +accidentally discovering in the attic a discarded volume of the +"Arabian Nights," with which, she says, her fortune was made. It was a +much more suitable child's book, one would think, than the Church +catechism or Watts's hymns.</p> + +<p>At the age of six Harriet passed to the care of the second Mrs. Lyman +Beecher, formerly Harriet Porter, of Portland, Maine, apparently a +lady of great dignity and character. "We felt," says Mrs. Stowe, "a +little in awe of her, as if she were a strange princess rather than +our own mamma; but her voice was very sweet, her ways of speaking and +moving very graceful, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> she took us up in her lap and let us play +with her beautiful hands which seemed wonderful things, made of pearl +and ornamented with strange rings." It appears she was a faithful +mother, though a little severe and repressive. Henry Ward Beecher said +of her: "She did the office-work of a mother if ever a mother did"; +she "performed to the uttermost her duties, according to her ability"; +she "was a woman of profound veneration rather than of a warm loving +nature. Therefore her prayer was invariably a prayer of deep yearning +reverence. I remember well the impression which it made on me. There +was a mystic influence about it. A sort of sympathetic hold it had on +me, but still I always felt when I went to prayer, as though I were +going into a crypt, where the sun was not allowed to come; and I +shrunk from it." To complete the portrait of this conscientious lady +who was to have the supervision of Harriet from her sixth year, the +following from a letter of one of the Beecher children is worth +quoting: "Mamma is well and don't laugh any more than she did." +Evidently a rather stern and sobering influence had come into the +Beecher family.</p> + +<p>"In her religion," says Mrs. Stowe, "she was distinguished by a most +unfaltering Christ-wor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>ship.... Had it not been that Dr. Payson had +set up and kept before her a tender, human, loving Christ, she would +have been only a conscientious bigot. This image, however, gave +softness and warmth to her religious life, and I have since noticed +how her Christ-enthusiasm has sprung up in the hearts of all her +children." This passage is of peculiar interest as it shows the source +of what Mrs. Stowe loves to call the "Christ-worship" which +characterized the religion of the younger Beechers. Writing at the age +of seventeen, when her soul was tossing between Scylla and Charybdis, +Harriet says: "I feel that I love God,—that is, that I love Christ"; +and in 1876, writing of her brother Henry, she says, "He and I are +Christ-worshippers, adoring him as the Image of the Invisible God." +Her son refers us to the twenty-fourth chapter of the Minister's +Wooing for a complete presentation of this subject "of +Christ-worship." Mrs. Stowe speaks of this belief as a plain departure +from ordinary Trinitarianism, as a kind of heresy which it has +required some courage to hold. The heresy seems to have consisted in +practically dropping the first and third persons in the Godhead and +ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>cepting Christ as the only God we know or need to consider.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Stowe during her adult life was an invalid, it is interesting +to have Mrs. Beecher's testimony that, on her arrival, she was met by +a lovely family of children and "with heartfelt gratitude," she says, +"I observed how cheerful and healthy they were." When Harriet was ten +years of age, she began to attend the Litchfield Academy and was +recognized as one of its brightest pupils. She especially excelled in +writing compositions and, at the age of twelve, her essay was one of +two or three selected to be read at a school exhibition. After +Harriet's had been read, Dr. Beecher turned to the teacher and asked, +"Who wrote that composition?" "Your daughter, Sir," was the reply. "It +was," says Mrs. Stowe, "the proudest moment of my life."</p> + +<p>"Can the immortality of the soul be proved by the light of Nature?" +was the subject of this juvenile composition, a strange choice for a +girl of twelve summers; but in this family the religious climate was +tropical, and forced development. As might have been expected, she +easily proved that nothing of immortality could be known by the light +of nature. She had been too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> well instructed to think otherwise. Dr. +Beecher himself had no good opinion of 'the light of nature.' "They +say," said he, "that everybody knows about God naturally. A lie. All +such ideas are by teaching." If Harriet had taken the other side of +her question and argued as every believer tries to to-day, she would +have deserved some credit for originality. Nevertheless the form of +her argument is remarkable for her years, and would not have +dishonored Dr. Beecher's next sermon. This amazing achievement of a +girl of twelve can be read in the Life of Mrs. Stowe by her son.</p> + +<p>From the Litchfield Academy, Harriet was sent to the celebrated Female +Seminary established by her sister Catharine at Hartford, Conn. She +here began the study of Latin and, "at the end of the first year, made +a translation of Ovid in verse which was read at the final exhibition +of the school." It was her ambition to be a poet and she began a play +called 'Cleon,' filling "blank book after blank book with this drama." +Mrs. Fields prints six pages of this poem and the specimens have more +than enough merit to convince one that the author might have attained +distinction as a poet. Her energetic sister Catharine however put an +end to this innocent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> diversion, saying that she must not waste her +time writing poetry but discipline her mind upon Butler's Analogy. To +enforce compliance, Harriet was assigned to teach the Analogy to a +class of girls as old as herself, "being compelled to master each +chapter just ahead of the class." This occupation, with Latin, French +and Italian, sufficiently protected her from the dissipation of +writing poetry.</p> + +<p>Harriet remained in the Hartford school, as pupil and teacher, from +her thirteenth to her twenty-third year. In her spiritual history, +this was an important period. It may seem that her soul had hitherto +not been neglected but as yet youth and a sunny nature had kept her +from any agonies of Christian experience. Now her time had come. No +one under the care of the stern Puritan, Catharine Beecher, would be +suffered to forget her eternal interests. Both of Mrs. Stowe's +biographers feel the necessity of making us acquainted with this +masterful lady, "whose strong, vigorous mind and tremendous +personality," says Mr. Stowe, "indelibly stamped themselves on the +sensitive, dreamy, poetic nature of her younger sister."</p> + +<p>It was Catharine's distinction to have written, it is claimed, the +best refutation of Edwards on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> the Will ever published. She was +undoubtedly the most acute and vigorous intellect in the Beecher +family. Like all the members of her remarkable family, she was +intensely religious and, at the period when Harriet passed to her +care, gloomily religious. It could not have been otherwise. She had +been engaged to marry Prof. Alexander Fisher, of Yale College, a young +man of great promise. Unhappily, he was drowned at sea, and she +believed his soul was eternally lost. It is futile to ask why Yale +College should have entrusted a professorship to a man whom the Lord +would send to perdition, or why Miss Beecher should have loved such an +abandoned character; it is enough to say that she loved him and that +she believed his soul to be lost; and was it her fault that she could +not be a cheerful companion to a young girl of thirteen?</p> + +<p>As we have seen, Harriet must not fritter away her time writing plays; +she must study Butler's Analogy. She must also read Baxter's Saints +Rest, than which, says Mrs. Stowe, "no book ever affected me more +powerfully. As I walked the pavements I wished that they might sink +beneath me if only I might find myself in heaven." In this mental +condition she went to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> her home in Litchfield to spend her vacation. +One dewy fresh Sunday morning of that period stood by itself in her +memory. "I knew," she says, "it was sacramental Sunday, and thought +with sadness that when all the good people should take the bread and +wine I should be left out. I tried hard to think of my sins and count +them up; but what with the birds, the daisies, and the brooks that +rippled by the way, it was impossible." The sermon of Dr. Beecher was +unusually sweet and tender and when he appealed to his hearers to +trust themselves to Jesus, their faithful friend, she says, "I longed +to cry out I will. Then the awful thought came over me that I had +never had any conviction of my sins and consequently could not come to +him." Happily the inspiration came to her that if she needed +conviction of sin and Jesus were such a friend, he would give it to +her; she would trust him for the whole, and she went home illumined +with joy.</p> + +<p>When her father returned, she fell into his arms saying, "Father, I +have given myself to Jesus and he has taken me." "Is it so?" said he. +"Then has a new flower blossomed in the kingdom this day." This is +very sweet and beautiful and it shows that Dr. Beecher had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> tender +heart under his Calvinistic theology. "If she could have been let +alone," says her son, "and taught to 'look up and not down, forward +and not back, out and not in,' this religious experience might have +gone on as sweetly and naturally as the opening of a flower in the +gentle rays of the sun. But unfortunately this was not possible at a +time when self-examination was carried to an extreme that was +calculated to drive a nervous and sensitive child well-nigh +distracted. First, even her sister Catharine was afraid that there +might be something wrong in the case of a lamb that had come into the +fold without being first chased all over the lot by the shepherd: +great stress being laid on what was called being under conviction. +Then also the pastor of the First Church in Hartford, a bosom friend +of Dr. Beecher, looked with melancholy and suspicious eyes on this +unusual and doubtful path to heaven."</p> + +<p>Briefly stated, these two spiritual guides put Harriet through a +process which brought her to a sense of sin that must have filled +their hearts with joy. She reached the stage when she wrote to her +brother Edward: "My whole life is one continued struggle; I do nothing +right. I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> beset behind and before, and my sins take away all my +happiness."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for her, it was at this stage of Harriet's religious +experience that Dr. Beecher was called to Boston to stem the rising +tide of Unitarianism, with its easy notions about conviction of sin +and other cardinal elements of a true faith. To be thrown into the +fervors of a crusade was just the experience which Harriet's heated +brain did not need. Her life at this period was divided between +Hartford and Boston, but her heart went with Dr. Beecher to his great +enterprise in Boston, or, as Mrs. Fields says, "This period in Boston +was the time when Harriet felt she drew nearer to her father than at +any other period of her life."</p> + +<p>It will not be necessary to go farther into this controversy than to +show what a cauldron it was for the family of Dr. Beecher. In his +autobiography, Dr. Beecher says, "From the time Unitarianism began to +show itself in this country, it was as fire in my bones." After his +call to Boston, he writes again, "My mind had been heating, heating, +heating. Now I had a chance to strike." The situation that confronted +him in Boston rather inflamed than subdued his spirit. Let Mrs. Stowe +tell the story<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> herself. "Calvinism or orthodoxy," she says, "was the +despised and persecuted form of faith. It was the dethroned royal +family wandering like a permitted mendicant in the city where it once +held high court, and Unitarianism reigned in its stead. All the +literary men of Massachusetts were Unitarians. All the trustees and +professors of Harvard College were Unitarians. All the élite of wealth +and fashion crowded Unitarian churches. The judges on the bench were +Unitarian, giving decisions by which the peculiar features of church +organization, so carefully ordained by the Pilgrim Fathers, had been +nullified. The dominant majority entered at once into possession of +churches and church property, leaving the orthodox minority to go out +into schoolhouses and town halls, and build their churches as best +they could."</p> + +<p>We can hardly suppose that Harriet had read the decision of the court, +or that she deemed it necessary; she knew it was wrong by instinct, +and the iron entered her soul. The facts appear to have been as +follows: The old parishes in New England included a given territory +like a school district or a voting precinct. Members of a given +parish, if they were communicants, formed themselves into a "church" +which was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> church of that parish. The court decided that this +church always remained the church of that parish. Members might +withdraw, but they withdrew as individuals. They could not withdraw +the church, not even if they constituted a majority.</p> + +<p>The correctness of this decision does not concern us here; it is +enough that Dr. Beecher thought it wrong and that Harriet thought it +wrong. "The effect of all this," she says, "upon my father's mind was +to keep him at a white heat of enthusiasm. His family prayers at this +period, departing from the customary forms of unexcited hours, became +often upheavings of passionate emotion, such as I shall never forget. +'Come, Lord Jesus,' he would say, 'here where the bones of the fathers +rest, here where the crown has been torn from thy brow, come and +recall thy wandering children. Behold thy flock scattered upon the +mountain—these sheep, what have they done! Gather them, gather them, +O good shepherd, for their feet stumble upon the dark mountains.'"</p> + +<p>The fierce heat of this period was too much for a tender plant like +Harriet. For her state of mind, even Catharine thought the Boston home +life was not entirely suitable. It would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> be better for her in +Hartford. "Harriet will have young society here which she cannot have +at home, and I think cheerful and amusing friends will do much for +her." Catharine had received a letter from Harriet which, she says, +"made me feel uneasy," as well it might. Harriet had written her +sister: "I don't know as I am fit for anything, and I have thought +that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my +faults perish in the grave.... Sometimes I could not sleep, and have +groaned and cried till midnight, while in the daytime I tried to +appear cheerful, and succeeded so well that papa reproved me for +laughing so much." Life was too serious to permit even an affectation +of gaiety. "The atmosphere of that period," says Mrs. Field, "and the +terrible arguments of her father and of her sister Catharine were +sometimes more than she could endure." Her brother Edward was helpful +and comforting. She thanks him for helping her solve some of her +problems, but the situation was critical: "I feared that if you left +me thus I might return to the same dark, desolate state in which I had +been all summer. I felt that my immortal interest, my happiness for +both worlds, was depending on the turn my feelings might take."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>Dr. Beecher was too much absorbed with his mission to observe what was +going on in his own family, unless there chanced to be an unexpected +outburst of gaiety. "Every leisure hour was beset by people who came +with earnest intention to express to him those various phases of +weary, restless wandering desire proper to an earnest people whose +traditional faith has been broken up.... Inquirers were constantly +coming with every imaginable theological problem ... he was to be seen +all day talking with whoever would talk ... till an hour or two before +the time (of service), when he would rush up to his study; ... just as +the last stroke of the bell was dying away, he would emerge from the +study with his coat very much awry, come down stairs like a hurricane, +stand impatiently protesting while female hands that ever lay in wait +adjusted his cravat and settled his collar ... and hooking wife or +daughter like a satchel on his arm, away he would start on such a race +through the streets as left neither brain nor breath till the church +was gained." Such, very much abbreviated, is Mrs. Stowe's portrait of +her father at this period. It is a good example of her power of +delineation; but what a life was this for a half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> distracted girl like +Harriet! Much better for her would have been the old serene, peaceful, +quiet life of Litchfield.</p> + +<p>She had several kinds of religious trouble. It troubled her that in +the book of Job, God should seem "to have stripped a dependent +creature of all that renders life desirable, and then to have answered +his complaints from the whirlwind, and, instead of showing mercy and +pity, to have overwhelmed him with a display of his power and +justice." It troubled her that when she allowed herself to take a +milder view of deity, "I feel," she says, "less fear of God and, in +view of sin, I feel only a sensation of grief." This was an alarming +decline. It troubled her again that she loved literature, whereas she +ought only to care for religion. She writes to Edward: "You speak of +your predilections for literature being a snare to you. I have found +it so myself." Evidently, as she has before said, she was beset behind +and before. What was perhaps worst of all, the heavens seemed closed +to her. Calvinism was pure agnosticism; and she had been educated a +Calvinist. There was no 'imminent God,' in all and through all, for +Calvinism; that came in with Transcendentalism, a form of thought +which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> never seems to have touched Mrs. Stowe. She seems always to +have felt, as at this period she writes Edward, that "still, after +all, God is a being afar off." Nevertheless, there was Christ, but +Christ at this period was also afar off: "I feel that I love +God,—that is that I love Christ,—that I find happiness in it, and +yet it is not that kind of comfort which would arise from free +communication of my wants and sorrows to a friend. I sometimes wish +that the Savior were visibly present in this world, that I might go to +him for a solution of some of my difficulties."</p> + +<p>It will be seen from this passage that Harriet's storm-tossed soul was +settling down upon Christ as the nearest approach to God one could +gain in the darkness, and with this she taught herself to be content. +"So, after four years of struggling and suffering," writes her son, +"she returns to the place where she started from as a child of +thirteen. It has been like watching a ship with straining masts and +storm-beaten sails, buffeted by the waves, making for the harbor, and +coming at last to quiet anchorage." One cannot help reflecting how +different would have been her experience in the household of Dr. +Channing; but Dr. Beecher would sooner have trusted her in a den of +wolves.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>Harriet was seventeen years old when, mentally, she reached her quiet +anchorage but, physically as might be expected, it was with a +constitution undermined and with health broken. "She had not grown to +be a strong woman," says Mrs. Fields; "the apparently healthy and +hearty child had been suffered to think and feel, to study and starve +(as we say), starve for relaxation, until she became a woman of much +suffering and many inadequacies of physical life." A year or two later +Harriet herself writes, "This inner world of mine has become worn out +and untenable," and again, "About half my time I am scarcely alive.... +I have everything but good health.... Thought, intense emotional +thought, has been my disease."</p> + +<p>At the end of six restless and stormy years, in 1832, Dr. Beecher +resigned his Boston pastorate to accept the presidency of Lane +Theological Seminary at Cincinnati, Ohio, Catharine and Harriet +accompanying the family with the purpose of establishing a high grade +school for young women. The plan was successfully carried out, and the +"Western Female Institute" marked a new stage in education west of the +Alleghenies. One of Harriet's early achievements at Cincinnati was the +publication of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> text-book in geography, her first attempt at +authorship. She made her entry into the field of imaginative +literature by gaining a prize of $50 for a story printed in <em>The +Western Magazine</em>.</p> + +<p>Her connection with the "Western Female Institute" was brief, and the +prosecution of a literary career was postponed, by her marriage in +1836, with Prof. Calvin E. Stowe; or, as she announces this momentous +event: "about half an hour more and your old friend, schoolmate, +sister, etc., will cease to be Hattie Beecher and change to nobody +knows who."</p> + +<p>The married life of Mrs. Stowe covered a period of fifty years and was +a conspicuously happy one. Prof. Stowe, who seemed so much like a myth +to the general public, was a man of great learning and keen +intelligence, unimaginative as he says himself, but richly endowed +with "a certain broad humor and drollery." His son tells us that he +was "an inimitable mimic and story-teller. No small proportion of Mrs. +Stowe's success as a literary woman is to be attributed to him." The +Sam Lawson stories are said to be a little more his than hers, being +"told as they came from Mr. Stowe's lips with little or no +alteration." For her scholarly husband, Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> Stowe had the highest +appreciation and the prettiest way of expressing it: "If you were not +already my dearly loved husband," she writes him, "I should certainly +fall in love with you." Prof. Stowe could also write a love-letter: +"There is no woman like you in this wide world. Who else has so much +talent with so little self-conceit; so much reputation with so little +affectation; so much literature with so little nonsense; so much +enterprise with so little extravagance; so much tongue with so little +scold; so much sweetness with so little softness; so much of so many +things and so little of so many other things." If a man's wife is to +have her biography written, he will not be sorry that he has sent her +some effusive love-letters.</p> + +<p>Fourteen years of Mrs. Stowe's beautiful married life were spent in +Cincinnati, with many vicissitudes of ill-health, some poverty, and +the birth of six children, three sons and three daughters. One can get +some idea both of the happiness and the hardship of that life from her +letters. In 1843, seven years after marriage, she writes, "Our straits +for money this year are unparalleled even in our annals. Even our +bright and cheery neighbor Allen begins to look blue, and says $600 is +the very most we can hope to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> collect of our salary, once $1,200." +Again she writes, "I am already half sick from confinement to the +house and overwork. If I should sew every day for a month to come I +should not be able to accomplish half of what is to be done." There +were trials enough during this period, but her severest affliction +came in its last year, in the loss of an infant son by cholera. That +was in 1849, when Cincinnati was devastated; when during the months of +June, July and August more than nine thousand persons died of cholera +within three miles of her house, and among them she says, "My Charley, +my beautiful, loving, gladsome baby, so loving, so sweet, so full of +life and hope and strength."</p> + +<p>In these years, Mrs. Stowe's life was too full of domestic care to +permit many excursions into the field of literature. In 1842, a +collection of sketches was published by the Harpers under the title of +the "Mayflower." Occasionally she contributed a bright little story to +a monthly or an annual. An amusing account is given of the writing of +one of these stories, by a lady who volunteered to serve as amanuensis +while Mrs. Stowe dictated, and at the same time supervised a new girl +in the kitchen: "You may now write," said Mrs. Stowe, "'Her lover +wept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> with her, nor dared he again touch the point so sacredly +guarded—(Mina, roll that crust a little thinner). He spoke in +soothing tones.—(Mina, poke the coals).'"</p> + +<p>These literary efforts, produced under difficulties, inspired Prof. +Stowe with great confidence in her genius. He wrote her in 1842, "My +dear, you must be a literary woman. It is so written in the book of +fate." Again he writes, "God has written it in his book that you must +be a literary woman, and who are we that we should contend against +God! You must therefore make all your calculations to spend the rest +of your life with your pen." Nevertheless the next eight years pass as +the last six have passed without apparently bringing the dream of a +literary career nearer fulfilment. With a few strokes of the pen, Mrs. +Stowe draws a picture of her life at this period: "I was married when +I was twenty-five years old to a man rich in Greek and Hebrew and, +alas, rich in nothing else.... During long years of struggling with +poverty and sickness, and a hot, debilitating climate, my children +grew up around me. The nursery and the kitchen were my principal +fields of labor. Some of my friends, pitying my trials, copied and +sent a number of little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> sketches from my pen to certain liberally +paying annuals, with my name. With the first money that I earned in +this way I bought a feather bed! for as I had married into poverty and +without a dowry, and as my husband had only a large library of books +and a good deal of learning, the bed and pillows were thought the most +profitable investment. After this I thought that I had discovered the +philosopher's stone. So when a new carpet or mattress was going to be +needed, or when at the close of the year it began to be evident that +my family accounts, like poor Dora's, 'wouldn't add up,' then I used +to say to my faithful friend and factotum Anna, who shared all my joys +and sorrows, 'Now, if you will keep the babies and attend to things in +the house for a day, I'll write a piece and then we'll be out of the +scrape.' So I became an author,—very modest I do assure you."</p> + +<p>The hardships and privations of Mrs. Stowe's residence in Cincinnati +were more than compensated to her by the opportunity it afforded for +intimate acquaintance with the negro character and personal +observation of the institution of slavery. Only the breadth of the +Ohio river separated her from Kentucky, a slave State. While yet a +teacher in the Female Institute, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> spent a vacation upon a Kentucky +estate, afterward graphically described in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' as Col. +Shelby's plantation. A companion upon this visit said, "Harriet did +not seem to notice anything in particular that happened.... +Afterwards, in reading 'Uncle Tom,' I recognized scene after scene of +that visit portrayed with the most minute fidelity." A dozen years +before there were any similar demonstrations in Boston, she witnessed +in 1838, proslavery riots in Cincinnati when Birney's Abolition press +was wrecked and when Henry Ward Beecher, then a young Cincinnati +editor, went armed to and from his office. She had had in her service +a slave girl whose master was searching the city for her, and whose +rescue had been effected by Prof. Stowe and Henry Ward Beecher who, +"both armed, drove the fugitive, in a covered wagon, by night, by +unfrequented roads, twelve miles back into the country, and left her +in safety." This incident was the basis of "the fugitive's escape from +Tom Loker and Marks in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.'"</p> + +<p>Lane Theological Seminary, in which Prof. Stowe held a chair, had, it +is said, "become a hot-bed of abolition." Partly for protection, a +colony of negroes had settled about the semi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>nary, and these families, +says Mrs. Stowe, "became my favorite resort in cases of emergency. If +anyone wishes to have a black face look handsome, let them be left as +I have been, in feeble health, in oppressive hot weather, with a sick +baby in arms, and two other ones in the nursery, and not a servant in +the whole house to do a turn." "Time would fail me," writes Mrs. +Stowe, "to tell you all that I learned incidentally of the slave +system in the history of various slaves who came into my family, and +of the underground railroad which, I may say, ran through our house."</p> + +<p>A New England education alone would not have given Mrs. Stowe the +material to write the story of "Uncle Tom." A youth passed on a +Southern plantation would have made her callous and indifferent, as it +did so many tender-hearted women. A New England woman of genius, +educated in New England traditions, was providentially transferred to +the heated border line between freedom and slavery and, during +eighteen years, made to hear a thousand authentic incidents of the +patriarchal system from the victims themselves. Then "Uncle Tom's +Cabin" could be written. Perhaps one other element of preparation +ought to be mentioned since Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> Stowe laid stress upon it herself. +The woman who should write "Uncle Tom's Cabin" needed to be a mother +who had known what it is to have a child snatched from her arms +irrevocably and without a moment's notice. It was at her baby's "dying +bed and at his grave that I learned," she says, "what a poor slave +mother may feel when her child is torn away from her. In those depths +of sorrow which seemed to me immeasurable, it was my only prayer to +God that such anguish might not be suffered in vain.... I allude to +this because I have often felt that much that is in that book ('Uncle +Tom') had its roots in the awful scenes and bitter sorrows of that +summer."</p> + +<p>In 1850, this western life, with its mixture of sweet and bitter +waters, came to an end. The climate of Cincinnati was unfavorable to +the health of both Mr. and Mrs. Stowe, and Mr. Stowe accepted a +professorship in Bowdoin College, at the small salary of $1,000 a +year, declining at the same time an offer from New York city of +$2,300. Why he accepted the smaller salary is not said. Certainly it +assured him his old felicity, his Master's blessing upon the poor. The +situation, however, was better than it seems, as Mrs. Stowe had +written enough to have con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>fidence in her pen, and she purposed to +make the family income at least $1,700 by her writings. She +accomplished much more than that as we shall presently see.</p> + +<p>From the car window, as one passes through Brunswick, Maine, he can +see the house in which Mrs. Stowe passed the three following very +happy years, in which her seventh child was born, a son who lived to +be her biographer, and in which she wrote "Uncle Tom's Cabin." It will +be remembered that the year 1850 was made memorable by the enactment +of the Fugitive Slave Law. How the attempted execution of this law +affected Mrs. Stowe can be anticipated. "To me," she says, "it is +incredible, amazing, mournful. I feel as if I should be willing to +sink with it, were all this sin and misery to sink in the sea.... I +sobbed, aloud in one pew and Mrs. Judge Reeves in another."</p> + +<p>In this mood, Mrs. Stowe received a letter from Mrs. Edward Beecher +saying, "Hattie, if I could use a pen as you can, I would write +something to make this nation feel what an accursed thing slavery is." +Her children remember that at the reading of this letter, Mrs. Stowe +rose from her chair, crushing the letter in her hand, and said, "I +will write something,—I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> will if I live." The fulfilment of this vow +was "Uncle Tom's Cabin."</p> + +<p>This story was begun in <em>The National Era</em>, on June 5, 1851; it was +announced to run through three months and it occupied ten. "I could +not control the story," said Mrs. Stowe; "it wrote itself." Again, she +said, "I the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin!' No, indeed. The Lord +himself wrote it, and I was but the humblest instrument in his hand." +It has been said that "'Uncle Tom's Cabin' made the crack of the +slave-driver's whip and the cries of the tortured blacks ring in every +household in the land, till human hearts could bear it no longer," and +that it "made the enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law an +impossibility."</p> + +<p>It is possible to discuss the question whether "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is +a work of art, just as it is possible to discuss whether the Sermon on +the Mount is a work of art, but not whether the story was effective, +not whether it hit the mark and accomplished its purpose. Mrs. Stowe's +story is not so much one story as a dozen; in the discriminating +language of her son, it is "a series of pictures," and who will deny +that the scenes are skilfully portrayed!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stowe did not know that she had made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> her fortune; she had not +written for money; nevertheless when the story was republished in a +volume, her ten per cent. of the profits brought her $10,000 in four +months. It went to its third edition in ten days, and one hundred and +twenty editions, or more than 300,000 copies were sold in this country +within one year. This astounding popularity was exceeded in Great +Britain. Not being protected by copyright, eighteen publishing houses +issued editions varying from 6d to 15s a copy, and in twelve months, +more than a million and a half of copies had been sold in the British +dominions. The book was also translated and published in nineteen +European languages. It was dramatized and brought out in New York in +1852, and, a year later it was running still. "Everybody goes," it was +said, "night after night and nothing can stop it." In London, in 1852, +it was the attraction at two theatres.</p> + +<p>What the public thought of the story is evident, nor did competent +judges dissent. Longfellow said: "It is one of the greatest triumphs +recorded in literary history, to say nothing of the higher triumph of +its moral effect." George Sand said: "Mrs. Stowe is all instinct; it +is the very reason that she appears to some to have no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> talent.... I +cannot say that she has talent as one understands it in the world of +letters, but she has genius as humanity feels the need of it,—the +genius of goodness, not that of the man of letters, but of the +saint.... In matters of art, there is but one rule, to paint and to +move." I give but a paragraph of a paper which Senator Sumner called +"a most remarkable tribute, such as was hardly ever offered by such a +genius to any living mortal."</p> + +<p>Apologists for the slave system have declared that "Uncle Tom's Cabin" +is a libel upon the system. One must do that before he can begin his +apology; but the remarkable fact is that not even in the South was the +libel detected at the first. That was an after-thought. Whittier knew +a lady who read the story "to some twenty young ladies, daughters of +slave-holders, near New Orleans and amid the scenes described in it, +and they with one accord pronounced it true." It was not till the sale +of the book had run to over 100,000 copies that a reaction set in and +then, strange to say, the note of warning was sounded by that +infallible authority upon American affairs, the London Times.</p> + +<p>In 1852, the year following the publication of "Uncle Tom" Prof. Stowe +accepted a chair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> in the Theological Seminary at Andover, and that +village became the home of the family during the ten following happy +years. In 1853, Mr. and Mrs. Stowe went to England upon the invitation +of Anti-Slavery friends who guaranteed and considerably overpaid the +expenses of the trip. "Should Mrs. Stowe conclude to visit Europe," +wrote Senator Sumner, "she will have a triumph." The prediction was +fulfilled. At Liverpool she is met by friends and breakfasted with a +little company of thirty or forty people; at Glasgow, she drinks tea +with two thousand; at Edinburgh there was "another great tea party," +and she was presented with a "national penny offering consisting of a +thousand golden sovereigns on a magnificent silver salver." She had +the Highlands yet to see as the guest of the Duke of Argyll, not to +mention London and Paris. After five months, she sailed from Liverpool +on her return, and is it any wonder that she wrote, "Almost sadly as a +child might leave its home, I left the shores of kind, strong Old +England, the mother of us all!"</p> + +<p>In 1856, Mrs. Stowe visited Europe a second time for the purpose of +securing an English copyright upon "Dred," having learned something of +business by her experience with "Uncle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> Tom." It will be interesting +to know that in England "Dred" was considered the better story, that +100,000 copies of it were sold there in four weeks, and that her +English publisher issued it in editions of 125,000 copies each. "After +that," writes Mrs. Stowe, "who cares what the critics say?"</p> + +<p>She was abroad nearly a year, visiting France, Switzerland, and Italy, +and returned in June, 1857, to experience another sad bereavement. Her +son Henry was a Freshman in Dartmouth college and, while bathing in +the Connecticut river, he was drowned. This was a severe trial to Mrs. +Stowe and the more so because, whatever her religion may have done for +her, the theology in which she had been educated gave no comfort to +her soul. "Distressing doubts as to Henry's spiritual state were +rudely thrust upon my soul." These doubts she was able to master at +least temporarily, by assuming that they were temptations of the +devil, but three years later in Florence, on a third voyage to Europe, +she wrote her husband, in reply to his allusions to Henry, "Since I +have been in Florence, I have been distressed by inexpressible +yearnings for him,—such sighings and outreachings, with a sense of +utter darkness and separation, not only from him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> but from all +spiritual communion with my God." It will be interesting to know that +relief was brought her in this painful crisis, by the ministrations of +spiritualism.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stowe returned in 1860 from her third visit to Europe to find the +country hovering upon the verge of Civil War. The war brought her +another sore bereavement. At the battle of Gettysburg, her son, Capt. +Frederick Stowe, was struck by the fragment of a shell and, though the +wound healed, he never really recovered. His end was sufficiently +tragic. With the hope of improving his health by a long sea voyage, he +sailed from New York for San Francisco by way of Cape Horn. That he +reached San Francisco in safety, writes his brother, "is known: but +that is all. No word from him or concerning him has ever reached the +loving hearts that have waited so anxiously for it, and of his +ultimate fate nothing is known." Whatever may have been the "spiritual +state" of this son, Mrs. Stowe had now somewhat modernized her +theology and could say, "An endless infliction for past sins was once +the doctrine that we now generally reject.... Of one thing I am +sure,—probation does not end with this life." To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> stamp out that very +heresy had been no small part of Dr. Beecher's mission in Boston.</p> + +<p>In 1863, Prof. Stowe having resigned his chair in Andover, Mrs. Stowe +removed with her family to Hartford where for the remaining +thirty-three years of her life, she made her summer home. The winter +of 1866, she spent with her husband in Florida and, the year +following, she bought in that semi-tropical state an orange orchard, +the fruit of which the year previous had "brought $2,000 as sold at +the wharf." Here for sixteen winters Mr. and Mrs. Stowe made their +home, until her "poor rabbi," as she affectionately calls him, became +too feeble to bear the long journey from Hartford. There she built a +small Episcopal church and she invites her brother Charles to become +an Episcopalian and come and be her minister.</p> + +<p>Her son says that "Mrs. Stowe had some years before this joined the +Episcopal church for the purpose of attending the same communion as +her daughters." That she desired to attend the same communion as her +daughters does not seem a sufficient reason for leaving the communion +of her husband. Certainly, she had other reasons. From her fourth +year, she had known the service and, as read by her grandmother at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +that time, its prayers "had a different effect upon me," she says, +"from any other prayers I heard in early life." Moreover, she had a +mission to the negro race and believed that the Episcopal service is +specially adapted to their needs: "If my tasks and feelings did not +incline me toward the Church," she writes her brother, "I should still +choose it as the best system for training immature minds such as those +of our negroes. The system was composed with reference to the wants of +the laboring class of England, at a time when they were as ignorant as +our negroes are now."</p> + +<p>The picture of her southern life which she gives in a letter to George +Eliot, is very attractive, her husband "sitting on the veranda reading +all day," but during these years, Mrs. Stowe must have spent much of +her own time at a writing-table since, for the ten years after 1867, +when the Florida life began, she published a volume, sometimes two +volumes, a year. In 1872, she was tempted by the Boston Lecture Bureau +to give readings from her own works in the principal cities of New +England, and the following year, the course was repeated in the cities +of the West. Her audiences were to her amazing. "And how they do +laugh! We get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> into regular gales," she writes her lonely husband at +home.</p> + +<p>Her seventieth birthday was celebrated at a gathering of two hundred +of the leading literary men and women of the land, at the residence of +Ex-Governor Claflin in Newton. There were poems by Whittier, Dr. +Holmes, J. T. Trowbridge, Mrs. Whitney, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Mrs. +Fields, and others, many excellent speeches, and finally a speech by +the little woman herself. This garden party, says her son, was the +last public appearance of Mrs. Stowe.</p> + +<p>Her "rabbi" left her a widow in 1886, dying at the age of 84. Mrs. +Stowe survived him ten years, dying in 1896, at the age of 85, leaving +behind her a name loved and honored upon two continents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="section_break"></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]<br />[Pg 250]<br />[Pg 251]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VII" id="Chapter_VII"></a>VII<br /><br /> +LOUISA MAY ALCOTT</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;"> +<img src="images/alcott.jpg" width="439" height="500" alt="LOUISA MAY ALCOTT" title="LOUISA MAY ALCOTT" /> +<span class="caption">LOUISA MAY ALCOTT</span> +</div> + +<p>Miss Alcott has been called, perhaps truly, the most popular +story-teller for children, in her generation. Like those elect souls +whom the apostle saw arrayed in white robes, she came up through great +tribulation, paying dearly in labor and privation for her successes, +but one must pronounce her life happy and fortunate, since she lived +to enjoy her fame and fortune twenty years, to witness the sale of a +million volumes of her writings, to receive more than two hundred +thousand dollars from her publishers, and thereby to accomplish the +great purpose upon which as a girl she had set her heart, which was, +to see her father and mother comfortable in their declining years.</p> + +<p>Successful as Miss Alcott was as a writer, she was greater as a woman, +and the story of her life is as interesting,—as full of tragedy and +comedy,—as the careers of her heroes and heroines. In fact, we have +reason to believe that the adventures of her characters are often not +so much invented as remembered, the pranks and frolics<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> of her boys +and girls being episodes from her own youthful experience. In the +preface to "Little Women," the most charming of her books, she tells +us herself that the most improbable incidents are the least imaginary. +The happy girlhood which she portrays was her own, in spite of +forbidding conditions. The struggle in which her cheerful nature +extorted happiness from unwilling fortune, gives a dramatic interest +to her youthful experiences, as her literary disappointments and +successes do to the years of her maturity.</p> + +<p>Miss Alcott inherited a name which her father's genius had made known +on both sides of the sea, before her own made it famous in a hundred +thousand households. Alcott is a derivative from Alcocke, the name by +which Mr. Alcott himself was known in his boyhood. John Alcocke, born +in New Haven, Ct., married Mary, daughter of Rev. Abraham Pierson, +first president of Yale College. He was a man of considerable fortune +and left 1,200 acres of land to his six children, one of whom was +Capt. John Alcocke, a man of some distinction in the colonial service. +Joseph Chatfield Alcocke, son of Capt. John, married Anna, sister of +Rev. Tillotson Bronson, D.D. Of this marriage, Amos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> Bronson Alcott, +father of Louisa, was born, Nov. 29, 1799. The fortunes of Joseph +Chatfield Alcocke were those of other small farmers of the period, but +Mrs. Alcocke could not forget that she was the sister of a college +graduate, and it was worth something to her son to know that he was +descended from the president of a college. The mother and son early +settled it that the boy should be a scholar, and the father loyally +furthered their ambitions, borrowing of his acquaintances such books +as he discovered and bringing them home for the delectation of his +studious son. At the age of thirteen, Bronson became a pupil in a +private school kept by his uncle, Dr. Bronson, and at eighteen, he set +out for Virginia with the secret purpose of teaching if opportunity +offered, at the same time taking along a peddler's trunk out of which +to turn an honest penny and pay the expenses of his journey. +Circumstances did not favor his becoming a Virginia teacher, but +between his eighteenth and twenty-third years, he made several +expeditions into the Southern States as a Yankee peddler, with rather +negative financial results, but with much enlargement of his +information and improvement of his rustic manners. Mr. Alcott was +rather distinguished for his high-bred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> manners and, on a visit to +England, there is an amusing incident of his having been mistaken for +some member of the titled aristocracy.</p> + +<p>At the age of twenty-five, Mr. Alcott began his career as a teacher in +an Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Ct. His family were Episcopalians, +and he had been confirmed at sixteen. Since the age of eighteen when +he started for Virginia as a candidate for a school, he had been +theorizing upon the art of teaching and had thought out many of the +principles of what, a century later, began to be called the "New +Education." He undertook, perhaps too rapidly, to apply his theories +in the conduct of the Cheshire Academy. His experiments occasioned a +vast amount of controversy, in which Connecticut conservatism gained a +victory, and Mr. Alcott retired from the school at the end of two +years' service. His results however had been sufficient to convince +him of the soundness of his principles, and to launch him upon the +troubled career of educational reform.</p> + +<p>Among a few intelligent friends and sympathizers who rallied to Mr. +Alcott's side in this controversy, was Rev. Samuel J. May, a Unitarian +minister then of Brooklyn, Ct., at whose house, in 1827, Mr. Alcott +met Mr. May's sister<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> Abbie, who shared fully her brother's enthusiasm +for the new education and its persecuted apostle. Miss May began her +relations with Mr. Alcott as his admirer and champion, a dangerous +part for an enthusiastic young lady to play, as the sequel proved +when, three years later, she became Mrs. Alcott.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Alcott was the daughter of a Boston merchant, Col. Joseph May, +and his wife, Dorothy Sewall, daughter of Samuel Sewall and his wife, +Elizabeth Quincy, sister of Dorothy Quincy, wife of John Hancock. By +the marriage of Joseph May and Dorothy Sewall, two very distinguished +lines of ancestry had been united. Under her father's roof, Mrs. +Alcott had enjoyed every comfort and the best of social advantages. +She was tall, had a fine physique, good intellect, warm affections, +and generous sympathies, but it would have astonished her to have been +told that she was bringing to the marriage altar more than she +received; and however much it may have cost her to be the wife of an +unworldly idealist, it was precisely his unworldly idealism that first +won her admiration and then gained her heart.</p> + +<p>Life may have been harder for Mrs. Alcott than she anticipated, but +she knew very well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> that she was abjuring riches. Two years before her +marriage, her brother had written her: "Mr. Alcott's mind and heart +are so much occupied with other things that poverty and riches do not +seem to concern him much." She had known Mr. Alcott three years and +had enjoyed ample opportunity to make this observation herself. +Indeed, two months after her marriage, she wrote her brother, "My +husband is the perfect personification of modesty and moderation. I am +not sure that we shall not blush into obscurity and contemplate into +starvation." That she had not repented of her choice a year later, may +be judged from a letter to her brother on the first anniversary of her +marriage: "It has been an eventful year,—a year of trial, of +happiness, of improvement. I can wish no better fate to any sister of +my sex than has attended me since my entrance into the conjugal +state."</p> + +<p>That Mr. Alcott, then in his young manhood, had qualities which, for a +young lady of refinement and culture, would compensate for many +privations is evident. Whether he was one of the great men of his +generation or not, there is no doubt he seemed so. When, in 1837, Dr. +Bartol came to Boston, Mr. Emerson asked him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> whom he knew in the +city, and said: "There is but one man, Mr. Alcott." Dr. Bartol seems +to have come to much the same opinion. He says: "Alcott belonged to +the Christ class: his manners were the most gentle and gracious, under +all fair or unfair provocation, I ever beheld; he had a rare inborn +piety and a god-like incapacity in the purity of his eyes to behold +iniquity."</p> + +<p>These qualities were not visible to the public and have no commercial +value, but that Mr. Alcott had them is confirmed by the beautiful +domestic life of the Alcotts, by the unabated love and devotion of +Mrs. Alcott to her husband in all trials, and the always high and +always loyal appreciation with which Louisa speaks of her father, even +when perhaps smiling at his innocent illusions. The character of Mr. +Alcott is an important element in the life of Louisa because she was +his daughter, and because, being unmarried, her life and fortunes were +his, or those of the Alcott family. She had no individual existence.</p> + +<p>Two years after the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Alcott, Louisa, their +second daughter was born in Germantown, Pa., where Mr. Alcott was in +charge of a school belonging to the Society<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> of Friends, or Quakers. +The date was November 29, 1832, also Mr. Alcott's birthday, always +observed as a double festival in the family. In 1834, Mr. Alcott +opened his celebrated school in Masonic Temple in Boston, Mass., under +the auspices of Dr. Channing and with the assured patronage of some of +the most cultivated and influential families in the city. As +assistants in this school, he had first Miss Sophia Peabody afterward +Mrs. Hawthorne, her sister Miss Elizabeth Peabody, and finally +Margaret Fuller.</p> + +<p>The school opened prosperously and achieved remarkable success until, +in 1837, the publication of Mr. Alcott's "Conversations on the +Gospels" shocked the piety of Boston newspapers, whose persistent and +virulent attacks frightened the public and caused the withdrawal of +two-thirds of the pupils. Mr. Emerson came to Mr. Alcott's defence, +saying: "He is making an experiment in which all the friends of +education are interested," and asking, "whether it be wise or just to +add to the anxieties of this enterprise a public clamor against some +detached sentences of a book which, on the whole, is pervaded by +original thought and sincere piety." In a private note, Mr. Emerson +urged Mr. Alcott to give up his school, as the people of Boston were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +not worthy of him. Mr. Alcott had spent more than the income of the +school in its equipment, creating debts which Louisa afterward paid; +all his educational ideals were at stake, and he could not accept +defeat easily. However, in 1839, a colored girl was admitted to the +school, and all his pupils were withdrawn, except the little negress +and four whites, three of whom were his own daughters. So ended the +Temple school. The event was very fateful for the Alcott family, but, +much as it concerned Mrs. Alcott, there can be no doubt she much +preferred that the school should end thus, than that Mr. Alcott should +yield to public clamor on either of the issues which wrecked the +enterprise.</p> + +<p>Louisa was seven years old when this misfortune occurred which shaped +the rest of her life, fixing the straitened circumstances in which she +was to pass her youth and preparing the burdens which ultimately were +to be lifted by her facile pen. Happily the little Alcotts, of whom +there were three, were too young to feel the perplexities that +harassed their parents and their early years could hardly have been +passed more pleasantly or profitably if they had been the daughters of +millionaires. The family lived very comfortably amidst a fine circle +of relatives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> and friends in Boston, preached and practised a +vegetarian gospel,—rice without sugar and graham meal without butter +or molasses,—monotonous but wholesome, spent their summers with +friends at Scituate and, in town or country, partly owing to the +principles of the new education, partly to the preoccupation of the +parents, the children of the family were left in large measure to the +teaching of nature and their own experience.</p> + +<p>Very abundant moral instruction there was in this apostolic family, +both by example and precept, but the young disciples were expected to +make their own application of the principles. The result, in the case +of Louisa, was to develop a girl of very enterprising and adventurous +character, who might have been mistaken for a boy from her sun-burned +face, vigorous health, and abounding animal spirits. It was her pride +to drive her hoop around the Common before breakfast and she tells us +that she admitted to her social circle no girl who could not climb a +tree and no boy whom she had not beaten in a race. Her autobiography +of this period, she has given us, very thinly disguised, in "Poppy's +Pranks."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, her mental faculties were not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> neglected. Mr. Alcott began +the education of his children, in a kindergarten way, almost in their +infancy, and before his Boston school closed, Louisa had two or three +years in it as a pupil. What his method of education could do with a +child of eight years is shown by a poem written by Louisa at that age. +The family were then living in Concord, in the house which, in "Little +Women," is celebrated as "Meg's first home." One early Spring day, +Louisa found in the garden a robin, chilled and famished, and wrote +these lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Welcome, welcome, little stranger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear no harm, and fear no danger;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are glad to see you here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you sing, Sweet Spring is near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now the white snow melts away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the flowers blossom gay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, dear bird, and build your nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we love our robin best."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It will be remembered that this literary faculty, unusual at the age +of eight, had been attained by a girl in the physical condition of an +athlete, who could climb a tree like a squirrel.</p> + +<p>Readers of "Little Women" will remember what a child's paradise "Meg's +first home" was, with its garden full of fruit-trees and shade,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> and +its old empty barn which the children alternately turned into a +drawing-room for company, a gymnasium for romps, and a theatre for +dramatic performances. "There," says Louisa, "we dramatized the fairy +tales in great style," Jack the Giant-killer and Cinderella being +favorites, the passion for the stage which came near making Louisa an +actress, as also her sister Anna, getting early development.</p> + +<p>The fun and frolic of these days were the more enjoyed because they +alternated with regular duties, with lessons in housework with the +mother and language lessons with the father, for which he now had +abundant leisure. As he had no other pupils, he could try all his +educational experiments in his own family. Among other exercises, the +children were required to keep a journal, to write in it regularly, +and to submit it to the examination and criticism of the parents. +Facility in writing thus became an early acquisition. It was furthered +by a pretty habit which Mrs. Alcott had of keeping up a little +correspondence with her children, writing little notes to them when +she had anything to say in the way of reproof, correction, or +instruction, receiving their confessions, repentance, and good +resolutions by the next mail.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>Some of these maternal letters are very tender and beautiful. One to +Louisa at the age of eleven, enclosed a picture of a frail mother +cared for by a faithful daughter, and says, "I have always liked it +very much, for I imagined that you might be just such an industrious +daughter and I such a feeble and loving mother, looking to your labor +for my daily bread." There was prophecy in this and there was more +prophecy in the lines with which Louisa replied:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hope that soon, dear mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You and I may be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the quiet room my fancy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has so often made for thee,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pleasant, sunny chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cushioned easy-chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The book laid for your reading,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vase of flowers fair;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The desk beside the window<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the sun shines warm and bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there in ease and quiet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The promised book you write.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While I sit close beside you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Content at last to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you can rest, dear mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I can cherish thee."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>The versification is still juvenile, but there is no fault in the +sentiment, and Miss Alcott, in a later note, says, "The dream came +true, and for the last ten years of her life, Marmee sat in peace with +every wish granted."</p> + +<p>Evidently Louisa had begun to feel the pinch of the family +circumstances. The income was of the slenderest. Sometimes Mr. Alcott +gave a lecture or "conversation" and received a few dollars; sometimes +he did a day's farm work for a neighbor; now and then Mr. Emerson +called and clandestinely left a bank note, and many valuable packages +came out from relatives in Boston; but frugal housekeeping was the +chief asset of the family. Discouraging as the outlook was, some +bitter experience might have been escaped if the Alcotts had remained +in Concord, pursuing their unambitious career. It was, however, the +era of social experiments in New England. The famous Brook Farm +community was then in the third year of its existence, and it was +impossible that Mr. Alcott should not sympathize with this effort to +ease the burden of life, and wish to try his own experiment. +Therefore, in 1843, being joined by several English socialists, one of +whom financed the undertaking, Mr. Alcott started a small community on +a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> worn-out not to say abandoned farm, which was hopefully christened +"Fruitlands."</p> + +<p>Visiting the community five or six weeks after its inception, Mr. +Emerson wrote: "The sun and the evening sky do not look calmer than +Alcott and his family at Fruitlands. They seem to have arrived at the +fact,—to have got rid of the show, and so to be serene. They look +well in July; we will see them in December." An inhospitable December +came upon the promising experiment, as it generally has upon all +similar enterprises. Under the title Transcendental Wild Oats, in +"Silver Pitchers," Miss Alcott gives a lively account of the varying +humors of this disastrous adventure.</p> + +<p>Whatever disappointments and privations the enterprise had in store +for their parents, the situation, with its little daily bustle, its +limitless range of fields and woods, its flower hunting and berry +picking, was full of interest and charm for four healthy children all +under the age of twelve years. The fateful December, to which Mr. +Emerson postponed his judgment, had not come before the elders were +debating a dissolution of the community. "Father asked us if we saw +any reason for us to separate," writes Louisa in her journal. "Mother +wanted to, she is so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> tired. I like it." Of course she did; but "not +the school part," she adds, "nor Mr. L.", who was one of her teachers. +The inevitable lessons interfered with her proper business.</p> + +<p>"Fruitlands" continued for three years with declining fortunes, its +lack of promise being perhaps a benefit to the family in saving for +other purposes a small legacy which Mrs. Alcott received from her +father's estate. With this and a loan of $500 from Mr. Emerson, she +bought "The Hillside" in Concord, an estate which, after the Alcotts, +was occupied by Mr. Hawthorne. Thither Mrs. Alcott removed with her +family in 1846, and the two years that followed is the period which +Louisa looked back upon as the happiest of her life, "for we had," she +says, "charming playmates in the little Emersons, Channings, +Hawthornes, and Goodwins, with the illustrious parents and their +friends to enjoy our pranks and share our excursions." Here the happy +girlish life was passed which is so charmingly depicted in "Little +Women," and here at the age of sixteen, Louisa wrote, for the +entertainment of the little Alcotts and Emersons, a series of pretty +fairy tales, still to be read in the second volume of Lulu's Library.</p> + +<p>Much as there was to enjoy in these surround<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>ings, the problem of +subsistence had not been solved and, with the growth of her daughters +toward womanhood, it became more difficult for Mrs. Alcott. The world +had, apparently, no use for Mr. Alcott; there were six persons to be +fed and clothed, and no bread-winner in the family. The story is that +one day, a friend found her in tears and demanded an explanation. +"Abby Alcott, what does this mean?" asked the visitor, and when Mrs. +Alcott had made her confessions, her friend said, "Come to Boston and +I will find you employment."</p> + +<p>Accepting the proposition, the family removed to Boston in 1848, and +Mrs. Alcott became the agent of certain benevolent societies. Mr. +Alcott taught private classes, or held "conversations"; the older +daughters, Anna and Louisa, found employment; and we may think of the +family as fairly comfortable during the seven or eight years of its +life in Boston. "Our poor little home," says Miss Alcott, "had much +love and happiness in it, and was a shelter for lost girls, abused +wives, friendless children, and weak and wicked men. Father and mother +had no money to give but they gave time, sympathy, help; and if +blessings would make them rich, they would be millionaires." Fugitive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +slaves were among the homeless who found shelter, one of whom Mrs. +Alcott concealed in an unused brick oven.</p> + +<p>In Miss Alcott's journal of this period, we find the burden of +existence weighing very heavily upon her, a state of mind apparently +induced by her first experience in teaching. "School is hard work," +she says, "and I feel as though I should like to run away from it. But +my children get on; so I travel up every day and do my best. I get +very little time to write or think, for my working days have begun." +Later, she seems to have seen the value of this experience. "At +sixteen," she writes, "I began to teach twenty pupils and, for ten +years, I learned to know and love children."</p> + +<p>Amateur theatricals were still the recreation of the Alcott girls, as +they had been almost from infancy, and the stage presented a +fascinating alternative to the school-room. "Anna wants to be an +actress and so do I," writes Louisa at seventeen. "We could make +plenty of money perhaps, and it is a very gay life. Mother says we are +too young and must wait. Anna acts splendidly. I like tragic plays and +shall be a Siddons if I can. We get up harps, dresses, water-falls, +and thunder, and have great fun."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Both of the sisters wrote many +exciting dramas at this period, and one of Louisa's, "The Rival Prima +Donnas," was accepted by the manager of the Boston Theatre, who +"thought it would have a fine run" and sent the author a free pass to +the theatre, which partly compensated for the non-appearance of the +play. Some years later, a farce written by Louisa, "Nat Bachelor's +Pleasure Trip, or the Trials of a Good-Natured Man," was produced at +the Howard Athenæum, and was favorably received. Christie's experience +as an actress, in Miss Alcott's novel entitled, "Work," is imaginary +in its incidents, but autobiographical in its spirit.</p> + +<p>All these experiments in dramatic literature, from Jack the +Giant-Killer on, were training the future story-teller. Miss Alcott's +first story to see the light was printed in a newspaper at the age of +twenty, in 1852, though it had been written at sixteen. She received +$5.00 for it, and the event is interesting as the beginning of her +fortune. This little encouragement came at a period of considerable +trial for the family. The following is from her journal of 1853: "In +January, I started a little school of about a dozen in our parlor. In +May, my school closed and I went to L. as second girl. I needed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +change, could do the wash, and was glad to earn my $2.00 a week." +Notice that this is her summer vacation. "Home in October with $34.00 +for my wages. After two days' rest, began school again with ten +children." The family distributed themselves as follows: "Anna went to +Syracuse to teach; father to the west to try his luck,—so poor, so +hopeful, so serene. God be with him. Mother had several boarders. +School for me, month after month. I earned a good deal by sewing in +the evening when my day's work was done."</p> + +<p>Mr. Alcott returned from the west, and the account of his adventures +is very touching: "In February father came home. Paid his way, but no +more. A dramatic scene when he arrived in the night. We were awakened +by the bell. Mother flew down crying, My Husband. We rushed after and +five white figures embraced the half-frozen wanderer who came in, +hungry, tired, cold, and disappointed, but smiling bravely and as +serene as ever. We fed and warmed and brooded over him, longing to ask +if he had made any money; but no one did till little May said, after +he had told us all the pleasant things, 'Well, did people pay you?' +Then with a queer look he opened his pocket book, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> showed one +dollar, saying with a smile, 'Only that. My overcoat was stolen, and I +had to buy a shawl. Many promises were not kept, and traveling is +costly; but I have opened the way, and another year shall do better.' +I shall never forget how beautifully mother answered him, though the +dear, hopeful soul had built much on his success: but with a beaming +face she kissed him, saying, 'I call that doing very well. Since you +are safely home, dear, we don't ask anything else.'"</p> + +<p>One of Miss Alcott's unfulfilled purposes was to write a story +entitled "The Pathetic Family." This passage would have found a place +in it. It deserves to be said that Mr. Alcott's faith that he had +"opened a way and another year should do better," was justified. +Fifteen years later, from one of his western tours, he brought home +$700, but, thanks to Louisa's pen, the family were no longer in such +desperate need of money.</p> + +<p>More than once Miss Alcott declares that no one ever assisted her in +her struggles, but that was far from true, as appears from many favors +acknowledged in her journal. It was by the kindness of a lady who +bought the manuscripts and assumed the risk of publication, that her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +first book, "Flower Fables," was brought out in 1854. It consisted of +the fairy tales written six years before for the little Emersons. She +received $32.00, a sum which would have seemed insignificant thirty +years later when, in 1886, the sale of her books for six months +brought her $8,000; but she says, "I was prouder over the $32.00 than +over the $8,000."</p> + +<p>The picture of Jo in a garret in "Little Women," planning and writing +stories, is drawn from Louisa's experiences of the following winter. A +frequent entry in her journal for this period is "$5.00 for a story" +and her winter's earnings are summed up, "school, one quarter, $50, +sewing $50, stories, $20." In December we read, "Got five dollars for +a tale and twelve for sewing." Teaching, writing, and sewing alternate +in her life for the next five years, and, for a year or two yet, the +needle is mightier than the pen; but in 1856, she began to be paid $10 +for a story, and, in 1859, the <em>Atlantic</em> accepted a story and paid +her $50.</p> + +<p>A friend for whose encouragement during these hard years, she +acknowledges great indebtedness and who appears as one of the +characters in her story, entitled "Work," was Rev. Theodore Parker, a +man as helpful, loving,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> and gentle as she depicts him, but then much +hated by those called orthodox and hardly in good standing among his +Unitarian brethren. Miss Alcott, then as ever, had the courage of her +convictions, was a member of his Music Hall congregation, and a +regular attendant at his Sunday evening receptions, finding him "very +friendly to the large, bashful girl who adorns his parlor regularly." +She "fought for him," she says, when some one said Mr. Parker "was not +a Christian. He is my sort; for though he may lack reverence for other +people's God, he works bravely for his own, and turns his back on no +one who needs help, as some of the pious do." After Mr. Parker's +death, Miss Alcott, when in Boston, attended the church of Dr. C. A. +Bartol, who buried her mother, her father and herself.</p> + +<p>In 1857, the Alcotts returned to Concord, buying and occupying the +Orchard House, which thenceforth became their home. Other family +events of the period were, the death of Miss Alcott's sister +Elizabeth, Beth in "Little Women," the marriage of Anna, Meg in +"Little Women," and a proposal of marriage to Louisa, serious enough +for her to hold a consultation over it with her mother. Miss Alcott is +said to have been averse to entangling alliances for her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>self, to have +married off the heroines in her novels reluctantly at the demand of +her readers, and never to have enjoyed writing the necessary +love-passages.</p> + +<p>The year 1860, when Miss Alcott is twenty-seven, has the distinction +of being marked in the heading of her journal as "A Year of Good +Luck." Her family had attained a comfortable, settled home in Concord; +Mr. Alcott had been appointed superintendent of public schools, an +office for which he was peculiarly well qualified and in which he was +both happy and admirably successful; Anna, the eldest sister, was +happily married; May, the youngest, was making a reputation as an +artist; and Louisa, in perfect health, having in May before, "walked +to Boston, twenty miles, in five hours, and attended an evening +party," was becoming a regular contributor to the <em>Atlantic</em>, and +receiving $50, $75, and sometimes $100 for her stories.</p> + +<p>In these happy conditions, Miss Alcott sat down to a more ambitious +attempt at authorship and wrote the first rough draft of "Moods," a +"problem novel" that provoked much discussion and, though it caused +her more trouble than any other of her books, was always dearest to +her heart. It was written in a kind of frenzy of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> poetic enthusiasm. +"Genius burned so fiercely," she says, "that for four weeks, I wrote +all day and planned nearly all night, being quite possessed by my +work. I was perfectly happy, and seemed to have no wants. Finished the +book, or a rough draft of it, and put it away to settle." It was not +published till four years later. Even in this year of good luck, there +seem to have been some privations, as she records being invited to +attend a John Brown meeting and declining because she "had no good +gown." She sends a poem instead.</p> + +<p>The breaking out of the Civil War stirred Miss Alcott's soul to its +depths, and we have numerous references to its progress in her +journal. "I like the stir in the air," she writes, "and long for +battle like a war-horse when he smells powder." Not being permitted to +enlist as a soldier, she went into a hospital in Washington as a +nurse. Her experiences are graphically and dramatically told in +"Hospital Sketches." That book, chiefly made from her private letters, +met the demand of the public, eager for any information about the +great war; it was widely read and, besides putting $200 in her purse, +gave her a reputation with readers and publishers. Many applications +for manuscript<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> came in and she was told that "any publisher this side +of Baltimore would be glad to get a book" from her. "There is a sudden +hoist," she says, "for a meek and lowly scribbler. Fifteen years of +hard grubbing may come to something yet." Her receipts for the year +1863, amounted to $600 and she takes comfort in saying that she had +spent less than one hundred on herself.</p> + +<p>The following year, after having been twice re-written, "Moods" was +brought out and, thanks to the "Hospital Sketches," had a ready sale. +Wherever she went, she says, she "found people laughing or crying over +it, and was continually told how well it was going, how much it was +liked, how fine a thing I had done." The first edition was exhausted +in a week. An entire edition was ordered by London publishers. She was +very well satisfied with the reception of "Moods" at the time, though +in after years when fifty thousand copies of a book would be printed +as a first edition, the sale of "Moods" seemed to her inconsiderable.</p> + +<p>The present day reader wonders neither at the eagerness of the public +for the book, nor at the criticisms that were freely made upon it. It +is interesting from cover to cover and as a study<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> of "a life affected +by moods, not a discussion of marriage," it is effective. In spite, +however, of the warning of the author, everyone read it as "a +discussion of marriage," and few were satisfied. The interest centres +in the fortunes of a girl who has married the wrong lover, the man to +whom, by preference, she would have given her heart being supposed to +be dead. Would that he had been, for then, to all appearance, she +would have been contented and happy. Unfortunately he returns a year +too late, finds the girl married and, though endowed with every virtue +which a novelist can bestow upon her hero, he does not know enough to +leave the poor woman in peace. On the contrary, he settles down to a +deliberate siege to find out how she feels, wrings from her the +confession that she is miserable, as by that time no doubt she was, +and then convinces her that since she does not love her husband, it is +altogether wrong to live under the same roof with him. Surely this was +nobly done. Poor Sylvia loves this villain, Miss Alcott evidently +loves him, but the bloody-minded reader would like to thrust a knife +into him. However, he is not a name or a type, but a real man, or one +could not get so angry with him. All the characters live and breathe +in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> these pages, and no criticism was less to the purpose than that +the situations were unnatural. Miss Alcott says "The relations of +Warwick, Moor, and Sylvia are pronounced impossible; yet a case of the +sort exists, and a woman came and asked me how I knew it. I did not +know or guess, but perhaps felt it, without any other guide, and +unconsciously put the thing into my book."</p> + +<p>Everyone will agree that Miss Alcott had earned a vacation, and it +came in 1865, in a trip to Europe, where she spent a year, from July +to July, as the companion of an invalid lady, going abroad for health. +The necessity of modulating her pace to the movements of a nervous +invalid involved some discomforts for a person of Miss Alcott's +pedestrian abilities, but who would not accept some discomforts for a +year of European travel? She had a reading knowledge of German and +French, and in the abundant leisure which the long rests of her +invalid friend forced upon her, she learned to speak French with +facility.</p> + +<p>On her return from Europe, she found her circumstances much improved. +She had established her position as a regular contributer to the +<em>Atlantic</em> whose editor, she says, "takes all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> I'll send." In 1868, +she was offered and accepted the editorship of <em>Merry's Museum</em> at a +salary of $500, and, more important, she was asked by Roberts Brothers +to "write a girl's book." Her response to this proposition was "Little +Women," which she calls "the first golden egg of the ugly duckling, +for the copyright made her fortune." Two editions were exhausted in +six weeks and the book was translated into French, German and Dutch.</p> + +<p>"Little Men" was written, a chapter a day, in November of the same +year, and "An Old-fashioned Girl," a popular favorite, the year +following. "Hospital Sketches" had not yet outlived its welcome, was +republished, with some additions, in 1869, and two thousand copies +were sold the first week. She is able to say, "Paid up all debts, +thank the Lord, every penny that money can pay,—and now I feel as if +I could die in peace." Besides, she has invested "$1,200 for a rainy +day," and is annoyed because "people come and stare at the Alcotts. +Reporters haunt the place to look at the authoress, who dodges into +the woods."</p> + +<p>The severe application which her achievement had cost had impaired +Miss Alcott's fine constitution and, in 1870, taking May, her artist<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +sister, she made a second trip to Europe, spending the summer in +France and Switzerland and the winter in Rome. A charming account of +the adventures of this expedition is given in "Shawl-Straps." A +pleasant incident of the journey was the receipt of a statement from +her publisher giving her credit for $6,212, and she is able to say +that she has "$10,000 well invested and more coming in all the time," +and that she thinks "we may venture to enjoy ourselves, after the hard +times we have had."</p> + +<p>In 1872, she published "Work: a story of Experience," and it is for +the most part, a story of her own experience. "Christie's adventures," +she says, "are many of them my own: Mr. Power is Mr. Parker: Mrs. +Wilkins is imaginary, and all the rest. This was begun at eighteen, +and never finished till H. W. Beecher wrote me for a serial for the +<em>Christian Union</em> and paid $3,000 for it." It is one of the most +deservedly popular of her books.</p> + +<p>In 1877, for Roberts Brothers' "No Name Series," Miss Alcott wrote "A +Modern Mephistopheles," her least agreeable book, but original, +imaginative, and powerful. The moral of the story is that, in our +modern life, the devil does not appear with a cloven foot, but as a +culti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>vated man of the world. Miss Alcott's Mephistopheles is even +capable of generous impulses. With the kindness of a Good Samaritan, +he saves a poor wretch from suicide and then destroys him morally. The +devil is apparently a mixed character with a decided preponderance of +sinfulness.</p> + +<p>Miss Alcott had now reached her forty-fifth year, had placed her +family in independent circumstances, thus achieving her early +ambition, and the effort began to tell upon her health. A succession +of rapid changes soon came upon her. Mrs. Alcott, having attained her +seventy-seventh year, was very comfortable for her age. "Mother is +cosy with her sewing, letters, and the success of her 'girls,'" writes +Miss Alcott in January; but in June, "Marmee grows more and more +feeble," and in November the end came. "She fell asleep in my arms," +writes Louisa; "My duty is done, and now I shall be glad to follow +her."</p> + +<p>May, the talented artist sister, whom Louisa had educated, had once +taken to Europe and twice sent abroad for study, was married in London +in 1878, to a Swiss gentleman of good family and some fortune, Mr. +Nieriker. The marriage was a very happy one but the joy of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> the young +wife was brief. She died the year following, leaving an infant +daughter as a legacy to Louisa.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emerson's death in 1882, was, to her, much like taking a member of +her own family: "The nearest and dearest friend father ever had and +the man who helped me most by his life, his books, his society. I can +never tell all he has been to me,—from the time I sang Mignon's song +under his window (a little girl) and wrote letters <em>a la Bettine</em> to +him, my Goethe, at fifteen, up through my hard years, when his essays +on Self-Reliance, Character, Compensation, Love, and Friendship helped +me to understand myself and life, and God and Nature."</p> + +<p>Mr. Alcott is still with her, vigorous for his years. In 1879, at the +age of eighty, he inaugurated the Concord School of Philosophy, "with +thirty students. Father the dean. He has his dream realized at last, +and is in glory, with plenty of talk to swim in." The school was, for +Miss Alcott, an expensive toy with which she was glad to be able to +indulge her father. Personally she cared little for it. On one of her +rare visits to it, she was asked her definition of a philosopher, and +responded instantly: "My definition is of a man up in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> balloon, with +his family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth +and trying to haul him down." For her father's sake, she rejoiced in +the success of the enterprise. Of the second season, she writes, "The +new craze flourishes. The first year, Concord people stood aloof; now +the school is pronounced a success, because it brings money to the +town. Father asked why we never went, and Anna showed him a long list +of four hundred names of callers, and he said no more."</p> + +<p>In addition to the labors which the school laid upon Mr. Alcott, he +prepared for the press a volume of sonnets, some of which are +excellent, especially one to Louisa:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ne'er from thyself by Fame's loud trump beguiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I press thee to my heart as Duty's faithful child."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mr. Alcott seemed to be renewing his youth but, in November, he was +prostrated by paralysis. "Forty sonnets last winter," writes Louisa, +"and fifty lectures at the school last summer, were too much for a man +of eighty-three." He recovered sufficiently to enjoy his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> friends and +his books and lingered six years, every want supplied by his devoted +daughter.</p> + +<p>With Miss Alcott the years go on at a slower pace, the writing of +books alternating with sleepless nights and attacks of vertigo. "Jo's +Boys" was written in 1884, fifty thousand copies being printed for the +first edition. In 1886, her physician forbids her beginning anything +that will need much thought. Life was closing in upon her, and she did +not wish to live if she could not be of use. In March, 1888, Mr. +Alcott failed rapidly, and died on the sixth of the month. Miss Alcott +visited him and, in the excitement of leave-taking, neglected to wrap +herself properly, took a fatal cold, and two days after, on the day of +his burial, she followed him, in the fifty-sixth year of her age. Dr. +C. A. Bartol, who had just buried her father, said tenderly at her +funeral: "The two were so wont to be together, God saw they could not +well live apart."</p> + +<p>If Miss Alcott, by the pressure of circumstances, had not been a +writer of children's books, she might have been a poet, and would, +from choice, have been a philanthropist and reformer. Having worked +her own way with much difficulty, it was impossible that she should +not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> interested in lightening the burdens which lay upon women, in +the race of life, and though never a prominent worker in the cause, +she was a zealous believer in the right of women to the ballot. She +attended the Woman's Congress in Syracuse, in 1875, "drove about and +drummed up women to my suffrage meeting" in Concord, she says, in +1879, and writes in a letter of 1881, "I for one don't want to be +ranked among idiots, felons, and minors any longer, for I am none of +them."</p> + +<p>To say that she might have been a poet does her scant justice. She +wrote two or three fine lyrics which would justify giving her a high +place among the verse-writers of her generation. "Thoreau's Flute," +printed in the <em>Atlantic</em>, has been called the most perfect of her +poems, with a possible exception of a tender tribute to her mother. +Personally, I consider the lines in memory of her mother one of the +finest elegiac poems within my knowledge:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mysterious death: who in a single hour<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Life's gold can so refine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And by thy art divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change mortal weakness to immortal power."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There are twelve stanzas of equal strength and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> beauty. The closing +lines of this fine eulogy we may apply to Miss Alcott, for both lives +have the same lesson:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Teaching us how to seek the highest goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To earn the true success,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To live, to love, to bless,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make death proud to take a royal soul."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Daughters of the Puritans, by Seth Curtis Beach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + +***** This file should be named 25582-h.htm or 25582-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/8/25582/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daughters of the Puritans + A Group of Brief Biographies + +Author: Seth Curtis Beach + +Release Date: May 24, 2008 [EBook #25582] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +DAUGHTERS +OF THE PURITANS + +A Group of Brief Biographies + +BY + +SETH CURTIS BEACH + +_Essay Index Reprint Series_ + +BOOKS FOR LIBRARIES PRESS, INC. +FREEPORT, NEW YORK + + + + +First published 1905 +Reprinted 1967 + +[Illustration: THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD AT WAYLAND, +MASSACHUSETTS] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK, 1789-1867 1 + + MARY LOVELL WARE, 1798-1849 43 + + LYDIA MARIA CHILD, 1802-1880 79 + + DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX, 1802-1887 123 + + SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI, 1810-1850 165 + + HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, 1811-1896 209 + + LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 1832-1888 251 + + + + +I + +CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK + + +[Illustration: CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK] + +During the first half of the nineteenth century, Miss Sedgwick would +doubtless have been considered the queen of American letters, but, in +the opinion of her friends, the beauty of her character surpassed the +merit of her books. In 1871, Miss Mary E. Dewey, her life-long +neighbor, edited a volume of Miss Sedgwick's letters, mostly to +members of her family, in compliance with the desire of those who knew +and loved her, "that some printed memorial should exist of a life so +beautiful and delightful in itself, and so beneficent in its influence +upon others." Truly a "life beautiful in itself and beneficent in its +influence," the reader will say, as he lays down this tender volume. + +Catharine Maria Sedgwick was born at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1789, the +first year of the presidency of George Washington. She was a +descendant from Robert Sedgwick, major-general under Cromwell, and +governor of Jamaica. Her father, Theodore Sedgwick, was a country boy, +born in 1746, upon a barren farm in one of the hill-towns of +Connecticut. Here the family opened a country store, then added a +tavern, and with the combined industries of farm, store and tavern, +Theodore, most fortunate of the sons if not the favorite, was sent to +Yale college, where he remained, until, in the last year of his +course, he managed to get himself expelled. He began the study of +theology, his daughter suggests, in a moment of contrition over +expulsion from college, but soon turned to the law for which he had +singular aptitude. He could not have gone far in his legal career +when, before the age of twenty-one, he married a beautiful girl whose +memory he always tenderly cherished, as well he might considering his +part in the tragedy of her early death. He had taken small pox, had +been duly quarantined and discharged but his young wife combed out the +tangles of his matted hair, caught the disease, and died, within a +year after marriage. + +Marriage was necessary in those days, his daughter suggests, and the +year of conventional widowhood having expired, Mr. Sedgwick, then at +the age of twenty-three, married Miss Pamela Dwight, the mother of his +four sons, all successful lawyers, and his three daughters, all +exemplary women. The second Mrs. Sedgwick was presumably more +beautiful than the first; certainly she was more celebrated. She is +immortalized by her portrait in Griswold's "American Court," and by a +few complimentary lines in Mrs. Ellet's "Queens of American Society." + +Theodore Sedgwick rose to distinction by his energies and talents but, +as we have seen, he was of sufficiently humble origin, which could not +have been greatly redeemed by expulsion from college; while at the age +of twenty-three, that must have been his chief exploit. Social lines +were very firmly drawn in that old colonial society, before the plough +of the Revolution went through it, and there was no more aristocratic +family than the Dwights, in Western Massachusetts. + +Madame Quincy gives an account of a visit, in her girlhood, paid to +the mother of Miss Pamela, Madame Dwight, in her "mansion-house," and +says that her husband, Brig.-Gen. Joseph Dwight, was "one of the +leading men of Massachusetts in his day." Madame Dwight was presumably +not inferior to her husband. She was daughter of Col. Williams, of +Williamstown, who commanded a brigade in the old French War, and whose +son founded Williams College. A daughter of Madame Dwight, older than +Pamela, married Mark Hopkins, "a distinguished lawyer of his time," +says Madame Quincy, and grandfather of Rev. Mark Hopkins, D.D., +perhaps the most illustrious president of the college founded by +Madame Dwight's family. + +The intermarriage of the Williamses, Dwights, and Hopkinses formed a +fine, aristocratic circle, into which the Sedgwicks were not very +cordially welcomed. "My mother's family (of this," says Mrs. Sedgwick, +"I have rather an indefinite impression than any knowledge) objected +to my father on the score of family, they priding themselves on their +gentle blood; but as he afterwards rose far beyond their highest +water-mark, the objection was cast into oblivion by those who made +it." + +A few years after this marriage, the war of the Revolution began. Mr. +Sedgwick entered the army, served as an officer under Washington, +whose acquaintance and favor he enjoyed, and from that time, for forty +years until his death, he was in public life, in positions of +responsibility and honor. He was member of the Continental Congress, +member of the House of Representatives, Speaker of the House, Senator +from Massachusetts, and, at his death, judge of the Massachusetts +Supreme Court. + +Judge Sedgwick was a staunch Federalist and, in spite of the fact that +he himself was not born in the purple, he shared the common Federalist +contempt for the masses. "I remember my father," says Miss Sedgwick, +"one of the kindest-hearted men and most observant of the rights of +all beneath him, habitually spoke of the people as 'Jacobins,' +'sans-culottes,' and 'miscreants.' He--and this I speak as a type of +the Federalist party--dreaded every upward step they made, regarding +their elevation as a depression, in proportion to their ascension, of +the intelligence and virtue of the country." "He was born too soon," +says his daughter apologetically, "to relish the freedoms of +democracy, and I have seen his brow lower when a free and easy +mechanic came to the front door, and upon one occasion, I remember his +turning off the east steps (I am sure not kicking, but the +demonstration was unequivocal) a grown up lad who kept his hat on +after being told to remove it." In these days one would hardly tell +him to remove it, let alone hustling him off the steps. + +The incident shows how far education, prosperity, wealth, and forty +years of public life had transformed the father of Miss Sedgwick from +the country boy of a hill-farm in Connecticut. More to our present +purpose, the apologetic way in which Miss Sedgwick speaks of these +high-bred prejudices of her father, shows that she does not share +them. "The Federalists," she says, "stood upright, and their feet +firmly planted on the rock of aristocracy but that rock was bedded in +the sands, or rather was a boulder from the Old World, and the tide of +democracy was surely and swiftly undermining it." + +When this was written, Miss Sedgwick had made the discovery that, +while the Federalists had the better "education, intellectual and +moral," the "democrats had among them much native sagacity" and an +earnest "determination to work out the theories of the government." +She is writing to her niece: "All this my dear Alice, as you may +suppose, is an after-thought. Then I entered fully, and with the faith +and ignorance of childhood, into the prejudices of the time." Those +prejudices must have been far behind her when her first story was +written, "A New England Tale," in which it happens, inadvertently we +may believe, all the worst knaves are blue-blooded and at least most +of the decent persons are poor and humble. Later we shall see her +slumming in New York like a Sister of Charity, 'saving those that are +lost,' a field of labor toward which her Federalist education scarcely +led. + +She could have learned some condescension and humanity from her mother +who, in spite of her fine birth, seems to have been modest and +retiring to a degree. She was very reluctant to have her husband +embark upon a public career; had, her daughter says, "No sympathy with +what is called honor and distinction"; and wrote her husband a letter +of protest which is worth quoting if only to show how a well-trained +wife would write her doting husband something more than a century ago: +"Pardon me, my dearest Mr. Sedgwick, if I beg you once more to think +over the matter before you embark in public business. I grant that the +'call of our country,' the 'voice of fame,' and the 'Honorable' and +'Right-Honorable,' are high sounding words. 'They play around the +head, but they come not near the heart.'" However, if he decides for a +public career, she will submit: "Submission is my duty, and however +hard, I will try to practice what reason teaches me I am under +obligation to do." That address, "my dearest Mr. Sedgwick," from a +wife a dozen years after marriage, shows a becoming degree of respect. + +We may be sure that this gentle mother would have encouraged no silly +notions of social distinctions in the minds of her children. Even Mr. +Sedgwick seems to have had a softer and more human side to his nature +than we have yet seen. Miss Sedgwick enjoys repeating a story which +she heard from a then "venerable missionary." The son of the village +shoemaker, his first upward step was as boy-of-all-work of the clerk +of courts. He had driven his master to the court session in dignified +silence, broken on arrival by a curt order to take in the trunk. "As +he set it down in the entry," says Miss Sedgwick, "my father, then +judge of the Supreme Judicial Court, was coming down stairs, bringing +his trunk himself. He set it down, accosted the boy most kindly, and +gave him his cordial hand. The lad's feelings, chilled by his master's +haughtiness, at once melted, and took an impression of my father's +kindness that was never effaced." + +The individual is so much a creature of his environment, that I must +carry these details a little farther. Forty years in public life, +Judge Sedgwick had an extended acquaintance and, according to the +custom of the time, kept open house. "When I remember," says Miss +Sedgwick, "how often the great gate swung open for the entrance of +traveling vehicles, the old mansion seems to me much more like an +hostelrie of the olden time than the quiet house it now is. My +father's hospitality was unbounded. It extended from the gentleman in +his coach, chaise, or on horseback, according to his means or +necessities, to the poor, lame beggar that would sit half the night +roasting at the kitchen fire with the negro servants. My father was in +some sort the chieftain of his family, and his home was their resort +and resting-place. Uncles and aunts always found a welcome there; +cousins wintered and summered with us. Thus hospitality was an element +in our education. It elicited our faculties of doing and suffering. It +smothered the love and habit of minor comforts and petty physical +indulgences that belong to a higher state of civilization and generate +selfishness, and it made regard for others, and small sacrifices for +them, a habit." + +Just one word more about this home, the like of which it would be hard +to find in our generation: "No bickering or dissention was ever +permitted. Love was the habit, the life of the household rather than +the law.--A querulous tone, a complaint, a slight word of dissention, +was met by that awful frown of my father's. Jove's thunder was to a +pagan believer but as a summer day's drifting cloud to it. It was not +so dreadful because it portended punishment,--it was punishment; it +was a token of suspension of the approbation and love that were our +life." + +These passages have a twofold value. They tell us in what school Miss +Sedgwick was educated, and they give us a specimen of her literary +style. Language is to her a supple instrument, and she makes the +reader see what she undertakes to relate. + +Judge Sedgwick died in Boston, in 1813, when Miss Sedgwick was +twenty-three. The biographical Dictionaries say he was a member of Dr. +Channing's church. As Miss Sedgwick relates the facts, he had long +desired to "make a public profession of religion," but had been +deterred because he could not conscientiously join the church of his +family, in Stockbridge, with its Calvinistic confession, and was too +tender of the feelings of his pastor to join another,--"unworthy +motives," says Miss Sedgwick. Briefly stated, he now sent for Dr. +Channing and received from him the communion. Later, Miss Sedgwick +followed him into the Unitarian fellowship. She, and two distinguished +brothers, were among the founders of the first Unitarian church in New +York city. + +Miss Dewey calls her volume "The Life and Letters" of Miss Sedgwick, +but the Life is very scantily written. She has given us a picture +rather than a biography. Indeed, to write a biography of Miss Sedgwick +is no easy task, there was so much of worth in her character and so +little of dramatic incident in her career. Independent in her +circumstances, exempt from struggle for existence or for social +position, unambitious for literary fame and surprised at its coming, +unmarried and yet domestic in tastes and habits, at home in any one of +the five households of her married brothers and sisters, she lived for +seventy-seven years as a favored guest at the table of fortune. She +saw things happen to others, but they did not happen to her. It was +with her as with Whittier's sweet Quakeress: + + "For all her quiet life flowed on + As meadow streamlets flow, + Where fresher green reveals alone + The noiseless ways they go." + +Of her outward career, Miss Dewey truly says: "No striking incidents, +no remarkable occurrences will be found in it, but the gradual +unfolding and ripening amid congenial surroundings of a true and +beautiful soul, a clear and refined intellect, and a singularly +sympathetic social nature. She was born eighty years ago"--this was +written in 1871,--"when the atmosphere was still electric with the +storm in which we took our place among the nations, and, passing her +childhood in the seclusion of a New England valley, while yet her +family was linked to the great world without by ties both political +and social, early and deep foundations were laid in her character of +patriotism, religious feeling, love of nature, and strong attachment +to home, and to those who made it what it was. And when in later life, +she took her place among the acknowledged leaders of literature and +society, these remained the central features of her character, and +around them gathered all the graceful culture, the active +philanthropy, the social accomplishment, which made her presence a joy +wherever it came." + +It is not singular if she began her existence at a somewhat advanced +stage. She was quite sure she remembered incidents that took place +before she was two years old. She remembered a dinner party at which +Miss Susan Morton, afterward Madame Quincy, was present, and to which +her father and her brother, Theodore, came from Philadelphia. If you +are anxious to know what incidents of such an event would fix +themselves in the mind of a child of two, they were these: She made +her first attempt to say "Theodore," and "Philadelphia," and she tried +her baby trick of biting her glass, for which she had doubtless been +reproved, and watched its effect upon her father. "I recall perfectly +the feeling with which I turned my eye to him, expecting to see that +brow cloud with displeasure, but it was smooth as love could make it. +That consciousness, that glance, that assurance, remained stamped +indelibly." + +"Education in the common sense," says Miss Sedgwick, "I had next to +none." For schools, she fared like other children in Stockbridge, with +the difference that her father was "absorbed in political life," her +mother, in Catharine's youth an invalid, died early, and no one, she +says, "dictated my studies or overlooked my progress. I remember +feeling an intense ambition to be at the head of my class, and +generally being there. Our minds were not weakened by too much study; +reading, spelling, and Dwight's geography were the only paths of +knowledge into which we were led;" to which accomplishments she adds +as an after-thought, grammar and arithmetic. + +Nevertheless, when in 1838, six of the Sedgwick family travelled +together through France and Italy, doing much of those sunny lands on +foot, Miss Sedgwick was interpreter for the party in both countries, +apparently easy mistress of their respective languages. It is +remarkable what fine culture seems to have been attainable by a New +England child born more than a hundred years ago, when Harvard and +Yale were, as we are told, mere High Schools, and Radcliffe and +Wellesley were not even dreamed of. Instead of Radcliffe or Wellesley, +Miss Sedgwick attended a boarding school in Albany, at the age of +thirteen and, at the age of fifteen, another in Boston, the latter for +six months, and the former could not have been more than two years. +Both, according to her, gave her great social advantages, and did +little for her scholarship. Miss Bell, the head of the Albany school, +"rose late, was half the time out of the school, and did very little +when in it." + +Miss Paine's school in Boston, let us hope, was better; but "I was at +the most susceptible age. My father's numerous friends in Boston +opened their doors to me. I was attractive in my appearance"--she is +writing this to a niece and it is probably all true--"and, from always +associating on equal terms with those much older than myself, I had a +mental maturity rather striking, and with an ignorance of the world, a +romantic enthusiasm, an aptitude at admiring and loving that +altogether made me an object of general interest. I was admired and +flattered. Harry and Robert were then resident graduates at Cambridge. +They were too inexperienced to perceive the mistake I was making; they +were naturally pleased with the attentions I was receiving. The winter +passed away in a series of bewildering gayeties. I had talent enough +to be liked by my teachers, and good nature to secure their good will. +I gave them very little trouble in any way. When I came home from +Boston I felt the deepest mortification at my waste of time and money, +though my father never said one word to me on the subject. For the +only time in my life I rose early to read French, and in a few weeks +learned more by myself than I had acquired all winter." + +It will be seen that she had the ability to study without a teacher, +and that is an art which, with time at one's disposal and the stimulus +at hand, assures education. Intellectual stimulus was precisely what +her home furnished. "I was reared in an atmosphere of high +intelligence. My father had uncommon mental vigor. So had my brothers. +Their daily habits and pursuits and pleasures, were intellectual, and +I naturally imbibed from them a kindred taste. Their talk was not of +beeves, nor of making money; that now universal passion had not +entered into men and possessed them as it does now, or if it had, it +was not in the sanctuary of our home,--there the money-changers did +not come." + +The more we know of her home life, the less wonder we have at her +mental development. She says that "at the age of eight, my father, +whenever he was at home, kept me up and at his side till nine o'clock +in the evening, to listen to him while he read aloud to the family +Hume, or Shakspere, or Don Quixote, or Hudibras. Certainly I did not +understand them, but some glances of celestial light reached my soul, +and I caught from his magnetic sympathy some elevation of feeling, and +that love of reading which has been to me an education." A modern +girl is liable to nervous prostration without being kept up till nine +on such juvenile literature as Hume and Shakspere at the age of eight; +but Miss Sedgwick was a country girl who, in youth, lived out of doors +and romped like a boy and, at the age of fifty, led a party of young +nieces through France, Switzerland, and Italy, much of the way on foot +and always at their head. Always fortune's favorite, she enjoyed among +other things remarkably good health. + +She thinks she was ten years old when she read Rollin's Ancient +History, spending the noon intermission, when of course she ought to +have been at play, out of sight under her desk, where she "read, and +munched, and forgot myself in Cyrus's greatness." + +A winter in New York, where she afterward spent so much of her time, +was her first absence from home. She had a married sister there whose +husband was in government employ, and her oldest brother was there +studying law. She was eleven years old; the date was 1801; and her +business in New York seems to have been to attend a French Dancing +School of which at that era there was but one in the city. She saw her +first play, and used to dry the still damp newspaper, in her +eagerness to read the theatre announcements. She also experienced a +very severe humiliation. She, with her brother, Theodore, attended a +large dinner party at the house of a friend of her father. "Our host +asked me, the only stranger guest, which part of a huge turkey, in +which he had put his carving fork, I would take. I knew only one point +of manners for such occasions, dear Alice,--that I must specify some +part, and as ill luck would have it, the side-bone came first into my +head, and 'Side-bone, sir,' I said. Oh what a lecture I got when we +got home, the wretched little chit that compelled a gentleman to cut +up a whole turkey to serve her! I cried myself to sleep that night." +It was too bad to spoil that dinner party for the little girl. + +Her mother died when Miss Sedgwick was seventeen; her father when she +was twenty-three. All her brothers and sisters were married and +living, three of them in New York city, one in Albany, and one, her +youngest brother, in Lenox. With this brother in Lenox, Miss Sedgwick +for many happy years, had her home, at least her summer home, having +five rooms in an annex to his house built for her, into which she +gathered her household gods and where she dispensed hospitality to +her friends. For many years, New York city was generally her winter +home. + +Theoretically, we have arrived with this maiden at the age of +twenty-three, but we must go back and read from one or two early +letters. She is ten years old when, under date of 1800, she writes her +father: "My dear papa,--Last week I received a letter from you which +gave me inexpressible pleasure." This is the child's prattle of a girl +of ten summers. She writes very circumspectly for her years of a new +brother-in-law: "I see--indeed I think I see in Mr. Watson everything +that is amiable. I am very much pleased with him; indeed we all are." +The following is dated 1801, when she is eleven: "You say in your last +letters that the time will soon come when you will take leave of +Congress forever. That day shall I, in my own mind, celebrate forever; +yes, as long as I live I shall reflect upon the dear time when my dear +papa left a public life to live in a retired one with his dear wife +and children; then you will have the pleasure to think, when you quit +the doors of the House, that you are going to join your family +forever; but, my dear papa, I cannot feel as you will when looking +back on your past life in Congress. You will remember how much you +have exerted yourself in order to save your country." + +There was something in the relations of this Sedgwick family, not +perhaps without parallel, but very beautiful. These brothers and +sisters write to each other like lovers. To her brother Robert, Miss +Sedgwick writes, "I have just finished, my dear brother, the second +perusal of your kind letter received to-day.... I do love my brothers +with perfect devotedness, and they are such brothers as may put +gladness into a sister's spirit.... Never, my dear Robert, did brother +and sister have a more ample experience of the purity of love, and the +sweet exchange of offices of kindness that binds hearts indissolubly +together." + +There are three letters from Robert Sedgwick to show how he +reciprocated this affection. He says: "I can never be sufficiently +grateful to my Maker for having given me such a sister. If I had no +other sin to answer for than that of being so unworthy of her as I am, +it would be more than I can bear, and yet when I read your letters I +almost think that I am what I should be. I know I have a strong +aspiration to be such, and I am sure they make me better as well as +happier." Again, he says: "Thanks, thanks--how cold a word, my dearest +Kate, in return for your heart-cheering letter! It came to me in the +midst of my Nol Pros., special verdicts, depositions, protests, +business correspondence, etc., like a visitant from the skies. Indeed, +my dearest Kate, you may laugh at me if you will for saying so, but +there is something about your influence over me which seems to have +shuffled off this mortal coil of earthiness; to be unmixed with +anything that remains to be perfected; to be perfectly spiritualized, +and yet to retain its contact with every part of its subject.... Lest +I should talk foolishly on this subject, I will dismiss it, only +begging you not to forget how your letters cheer, rejoice, elevate, +renovate me." + +Here is a love-letter from Theodore, her eldest brother: "Having this +moment perused your letter the third time, I could not help giving you +an answer to it, though there be nothing in it interrogative. Nor was +it meant to be tender or sentimental, or learned, but like all your +letters, it is so sweet, so excellent, so natural, so much without +art, and yet so much beyond art, that, old, cold, selfish, unthankful +as I am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank God that I have such a +sister." Let us revenge ourselves upon these brother and sister lovers +by saying that perhaps they did not feel any more than some other +people, only they had a habit of expressing their feelings. If that +was all, we cannot deny that the habit was very beautiful. + +Why did Miss Sedgwick never marry? We are not distinctly told; but she +did not need to, with such lovers in her own family. Besides, how +could she find any one, in her eyes, equal to those brothers, and how +could she marry any one of lower merit? "I am satisfied," she writes, +"by long and delightful experience, that I can never love any body +better than my brothers. I have no expectation of ever finding their +equal in worth and attraction, therefore--do not be alarmed; I am not +on the verge of a vow of celibacy, nor have I the slightest intention +of adding any rash resolutions to the ghosts of those that have been +frightened to death by the terrors of maiden life; but therefore--I +shall never change my condition until I change my mind." This is at +the age of twenty-three. + +Later in life, after many changes had come, she seems to have wished +she had not been so very hard to suit. Fifteen years roll away, +during which we see one suitor after another, dismissed, when she +writes in a journal not to be read in her life-time, "It is difficult +for one who began life as I did, the primary object of affection to +many, to come by degrees to be first to none, and still to have my +love remain in its full strength, and craving such returns as have no +substitute.... It is the necessity of a solitary condition, an +unnatural state.... From my own experience I would not advise any one +to remain unmarried, for my experience has been a singularly happy +one. My feelings have never been embittered by those slights and +taunts that the repulsive and neglected have to endure; there has been +no period of my life to the present moment when I might not have +allied myself respectably, and to those sincerely attached to me.... I +have troops of friends, some devotedly attached to me, and yet the +result of this very happy experience is that there is no substitute +for those blessings which Providence has placed first, and ordained +that they shall be purchased at the dearest sacrifice." Those who have +paid the price and purchased the blessings may have the satisfaction +of knowing that, according to Miss Sedgwick's mature opinion, they +have chosen the better part. + +We might call this statement the Confessions of an Old Maid who might +have done better. She closes her testimony with an acknowledgment that +she "ought to be grateful and humble," and the "hope, through the +grace of God, to rise more above the world, to attain a higher and +happier state of feeling, to order my house for that better world +where self may lose something of its engrossing power." This religious +attitude was not unusual, nor merely conventional and unmeaning. All +the Sedgwick family seem to have been constitutionally religious. The +mother was almost painfully meek in her protest against her husband's +embarking upon a public career; Mr. Sedgwick has been deterred from +joining a church only by some impossible articles of puritan divinity, +but cannot die happy until he has received the communion from Dr. +Channing; "both my sisters were very religious," says Miss Sedgwick; +while the letters I have quoted from two of her brothers, young +lawyers and men of the world, have the devoutness of the psalms. "I +can never be sufficiently grateful to my Maker for having given me +such a sister," says Robert; and Theodore: "selfish, unthankful as I +am, the tears are in my eyes, and I thank God that I have such a +sister." Of course one can use a religious dialect without meaning +much by it, but these Sedgwicks were cultivated people, who thought +for themselves, and did not speak cant to each other. + +Since it was a religious impulse that turned Miss Sedgwick's mind to +literature, it is worth while to follow the thread of her spiritual +history. This was written at the age of twenty when she was looking +for a religious experience that never came, and would have considered +herself one of the wicked: "On no subject would I voluntarily be +guilty of hypocricy, and on that which involves all the importance of +our existence I should shrink from the slightest insincerity. You +misunderstood my last letter. I exposed to you a state of mind and +feeling produced, not by religious impressions, but by the convictions +of reason." Of course "reason" was no proper organ of religion; but +besides this defect, her interest in serious things was liable to +interruption "by the cares and pleasures of the world" and, perhaps +worst of all, "I have not a fixed belief on some of the most material +points of our religion." One does not see how a person in this state +of mind should have anything to call "our religion." She seems to have +advanced much further in a letter to her brother Robert, three years +later: "I long to see you give your testimony of your acceptance of +the forgiving love of your Master. + +... God grant, in his infinite mercy, that we may all touch the +garment of our Savior's righteousness and be made whole." + +The editor of these letters tells us that Miss Sedgwick is now a +member of Dr. Mason's church in New York city, having joined at the +age of twenty, or soon after the letter in which she says she is not +satisfied on certain points of doctrine. Dr. Mason is described as an +undiluted Calvinist, "who then was the most conspicuous pulpit orator +in the country--a man confident in his faith and bold to audacity." +Miss Sedgwick stands the strong meat of Calvinism ten years, when we +have this letter. "I presume you saw the letter I wrote Susan, in +which I said that I did not think I should go to Dr. Mason's Church +again.... You know, my dear Frances, that I never adopted some of the +articles of the creed of that church and some of those upon which the +doctor is fond of expatiating, and which appear to me both +unscriptural and very unprofitable, and, I think, very demoralizing." + +What perhaps stimulated the zeal of Dr. Mason to insist upon doctrines +always objectionable to Miss Sedgwick, was an attempt then being made +to establish a Unitarian church in New York city. She has not joined +in the movement, but does not know but it may come to that. It is a +critical moment in Miss Sedgwick's history, and it happened at this +time she went to hear Dr. Mason's farewell sermon. "As usual," she +says, "he gave the rational Christians an anathema. He said they had +fellowship with the devil: no, he would not slander the devil, they +were worse, etc." Very possibly this preaching had its proper effect +upon many hearers, and they gave the "rational Christians" a wide +berth, but it precipitated Miss Sedgwick into their ranks. She was not +then a thorough-going Unitarian, saying, "there are some of your +articles of unbelief that I am not Protestant enough to subscribe to"; +a little more gentleness on the part of Dr. Mason could have kept her, +but she could not stand "what seems to me," she says, "a gross +violation of the religion of the Redeemer, and an insult to a large +body of Christians entitled to respect and affection." + +She joined the tabooed circle in 1821, and wrote from Stockbridge, +"Some of my friends here have, as I learn, been a little troubled, but +after the crime of confessed Unitarianism, nothing can surprise them"; +she longs to look upon a Christian minister who does not regard her as +"a heathen and a publican." An aunt, very fond of her, said to her, +one day as they were parting, "Come and see me as often as you can, +dear, for you know, after this world we shall never meet again." + +These religious tribulations incited her to write a short story, after +the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, to contrast two kinds of +religion, of one of which she had seen more than was good. The story +was to appear as a tract, but it outgrew the dimensions of a tract, +and was published as a book under the title of "A New England Tale." +It is not a masterpiece of literature but, like all of Miss Sedgwick's +works, it contains some fine delineations of character and vivid +descriptions of local scenery. It can be read to-day with interest and +pleasure. As a dramatic presentation of the self-righteous and the +meek, in a New England country town a century ago, it is very +effective. "Mrs. Wilson" is perhaps a more stony heart than was common +among the 'chosen vessels of the Lord,' but so the Pharisee in the +parable may have been a trifle exaggerated. The advantage of this kind +of writing is that you do not miss the point of the story. + +Miss Dewey says The New England Tale gave Miss Sedgwick an "immediate +position in the world of American literature." Her brother Theodore +wrote, "It exceeds all my expectations, fond and flattering as they +were"; her brother Harry, "I think, dear Kate, that your destiny is +fixed. As you are such a Bibleist, I only say don't put your light +under a bushel." That the book did not fall still-born is evident when +he says further, "The orthodox do all they can to put it down." On the +other hand, her publisher wanted to print a cheap edition of 3,000 +copies for missionary purposes. I should like to see that done to-day +by some zealous liberal-minded publisher. + +The New England Tale appeared in 1822, when Cooper had only published +"Precaution" and "The Spy." In 1824, Miss Sedgwick published +"Redwood," of which a second edition was called for the same year, +and which was republished in England and translated into French. It +reached distinction in the character of Deborah Lenox, of which Miss +Edgworth said, "It is to America what Scott's characters are to +Scotland, valuable as original pictures." Redwood was reviewed by +Bryant in the North American, in an article which, he says, was up to +that time his "most ambitious attempt in prose." "Hope Leslie" +appeared in 1827. It was so much better than its predecessors, said +the _Westminster Review_, that one would not suppose it by the same +hand. Sismondi, the Swiss historian, wrote the author a letter of +thanks and commendation, which was followed by a life-long friendship +between these two authors. Mrs. Child, then Miss Francis and the +author of "Hobomok" and "The Rebels," wrote her that she had nearly +completed a story on Capt. John Smith which now she will not dare to +print, but she surrenders with less reluctance, she says, "for I love +my conqueror." "Is not that beautiful?" says Miss Sedgwick. "Better to +write and to feel such a sentiment than to indite volumes." + +"Clarence" was published in 1830, and I am glad to say, she sold the +rights to the first edition for $1,200, before the critics got hold +of it. The scene is laid in New York and in high life. The story, said +the _North American Review_, is "improbable" but not "dull." Miss +Dewey says, "It is the most romantic and at the same time the wittiest +of her novels," but Bryant says it has been the least read. "The +Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in America," appeared in 1835, and +Bryant called it "a charming tale of home life, thought by many to be +the best of her novels properly so called." + +If Miss Sedgwick had written none of these more elaborate works, she +would deserve a permanent place in our literature for a considerable +library of short stories, among which I should name "A Berkshire +Tradition," a pathetic tale of the Revolution; "The White Scarf," a +romantic story of Mediaeval France; "Fanny McDermot," a study of +conventional morality; "Home," of which the _Westminster Review_ said, +"We wish this book was in the hands of every mechanic in England"; +"The Poor Rich Man and the Rich Poor Man" of which Joseph Curtis, the +philanthropist, said, "in all his experiences he had never known so +much good fruit from the publication of any book"; and, not least, +"Live and let Live: or domestic service illustrated," of which Dr. +Channing wrote, "I cannot, without violence to my feelings, refrain +from expressing to you the great gratification with which I have read +your 'Live and let Live.' Thousands will be better and happier for +it.... Your three last books, I trust, form an era in our literature." + +This was high praise, considering that there was then no higher +literary authority in America than Dr. Channing. However, a message +from Chief Justice Marshall, through Judge Story, belongs with it: +"Tell her I have read with great pleasure everything she has written, +and wish she would write more." She had gained an enviable position in +literature and she had done a great deal of useful work during the +fifteen years since the timid appearance of "A New England Tale," but +she seems to have regarded her books as simply a "by-product": "My +author existence has always seemed something accidental, extraneous, +and independent of my inner self. My books have been a pleasant +occupation and excitement in my life.... But they constitute no +portion of my happiness--that is, of such as I derive from the dearest +relations of life. When I feel that my writings have made any one +happier or better, I feel an emotion of gratitude to Him who has made +me the medium of any blessing to my fellow creatures." + +In 1839, Miss Sedgwick went to Europe in company with her brother +Robert, and other relatives. The party was abroad two years and, on +its return, Miss Sedgwick collected her European letters and published +them in two volumes. They give one a view of Europe as seen by an +intelligent observer still in the first half of the last century. She +breakfasted with Rogers, the banker and poet, with whom she met +Macaulay whose conversation was to her "rich and delightful. Some +might think he talks too much; but none, except from their own +impatient vanity, could wish it were less." She had tea at Carlyle's, +found him "simple, natural and kindly, his conversation as picturesque +as his writings." She "had an amusing evening at Mr. Hallam's"; he +made her "quite forget he was the sage of the 'Middle Ages.'" At +Hallam's she met Sydney Smith who was "in the vein, and we saw him, I +believe, to advantage. His wit is not, as I expected, a succession of +brilliant explosions but a sparkling stream of humor." + +In Geneva, she visited her friends, the Sismondis, and in Turin +received a call from Silvio Pellico, martyr to Italian liberty. "He is +of low stature and slightly made, a sort of etching of a man with +delicate and symmetrical features, just enough body to gravitate and +keep the spirit from its natural upward flight--a more shadowy Dr. +Channing." + +Soon after Miss Sedgwick's return from Europe, she became connected +with the Women's Prison Association of New York City, of which from +1848 to 1863 she was president. An extract from one letter must +suffice to suggest the nature of her activities in connection with +this and kindred philanthropies: "It is now just ten, and I have come +up from the City Hall, in whose dismal St. Giles precincts I have been +to see a colored ragged school.... My Sundays are not days of rest.... +My whole soul is sickened; and to-day when I went to church filled +with people in their fine summer clothes, and heard a magnificent +sermon from Dr. Dewey, and thought of the streets and dens through +which I had just walked, I could have cried out, Why are ye here?" + +A fellow-member of the Prison Association, who often accompanied her +on her visits to hospitals and prisons, "especially the Tombs, +Blackwell's, and Randall's Island," says, "In her visitations, she was +called upon to kneel at the bedside of the sick and dying. The +sweetness of her spirit, and the delicacy of her nature, felt by all +who came within her atmosphere, seemed to move the unfortunate to ask +this office of her, and it was never asked in vain." + +Always a philanthropist, Miss Sedgwick was not a "reformer" in the +technical sense; that is, she did not enlist in the "movements" of her +generation, for Temperance, or Anti-Slavery, or Woman's Rights. She +shrunk from the excesses of the "crusaders," but she was never slow in +striking a blow in a good cause. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was published in +1852, but its indictment of slavery is not more complete than Miss +Sedgwick made in "Redwood," her second novel, twenty-five years +before. A planter's boy sees a slave starved to famishing and then +whipped to death. It hurt his boy heart, but he afterward became +hardened to such necessary severity and he tells the story to a fellow +planter with apologies for his youthful sentimentality. Does "Uncle +Tom's Cabin" show more clearly the two curses of slavery: cruelty to +the slave and demoralization to the master? + +She sympathized with the abolitionists in their purpose but not always +with their methods: "The great event of the past week has been the +visit of the little apostle of Abolitionism--Lucy Stone." This was in +1849 when Mrs. Stone was thirty-one. "She has one of the very sweetest +voices I ever heard, a readiness of speech and grace that furnish the +external qualifications of an orator--a lovely countenance too--and +the intensity, entire forgetfulness and the divine calmness that fit +her to speak in the great cause she has undertaken." But in spite of +this evident sympathy with the purpose of the Abolitionists, Miss +Sedgwick declined to attend a meeting of the Anti-Slavery Society, +saying: "It seemed to me that so much had been intemperately said, so +much rashly urged, on the death of that noble martyr, John Brown, by +the Abolitionists, that it was not right to appear among them as one +of them." + +Not even Lucy Stone, however, could have felt more horror at the +institution of slavery. The Compromise Measures of 1850 made her +shudder: "my hands are cold as ice; the blood has curdled in my +heart; that word _compromise_ has a bad savor when truth and right are +in question." When the Civil War came, in her seventieth year, she had +"an intense desire to live to see the conclusion of the struggle," but +could not conjecture "how peace and good neighborhood are ever to +follow from this bitter hate." "It is delightful to see the gallantry +of some of our men, who are repeating the heroic deeds that seemed +fast receding to fabulous times." Some of these young heroes were very +near to her. Maj. William Dwight Sedgwick, who fell on the bloody +field of Antietam was her nephew, Gen. John Sedgwick, killed at the +battle of Spottsylvania, was her cousin. + +As she was not in the Anti-Slavery crusade, so she was not in the +Woman's Rights crusade. She wished women to have a larger sphere, and +she did much to enlarge the sphere of her sex, but it was by taking it +and making it, rather than by talking about it. "Your _might_ must be +your _right_," she says in a chapter on The Rights of Women, in "Means +and Ends." Voting did not seem to her a function suited to women: "I +cannot believe it was ever intended that women should lead armies, +harangue in halls of legislation, bustle up to ballot-boxes, or sit +on judicial tribunals." The gentle Lucy Stone would not have +considered this argument conclusive, but it satisfied Miss Sedgwick. + +In 1857, after a silence of twenty-two years, in which only short +stories and one or two biographies came from her hand, she published +another two-volume novel entitled, "Married or Single." It is perhaps +her best work; at least it has been so considered by many readers. She +was then sixty-seven and, though she had ten more years to live, they +were years of declining power. These last years were spent at the home +of her favorite niece, Mrs. William Minot, Jr., in West Roxbury, +Mass., and there tenderly and reverently cared for, she died in 1867. + +Bryant, who was her life-long friend, and who, at her instance wrote +some of his hymns, gives this estimate of her character: "Admirable as +was her literary life, her home life was more so; and beautiful as +were the examples set forth in her writings, her own example was, if +possible, still more beautiful. Her unerring sense of rectitude, her +love of truth, her ready sympathy, her active and cheerful +beneficence, her winning and gracious manners, the perfection of high +breeding, make up a character, the idea of which, as it rests in my +mind, I would not exchange for anything in her own interesting works +of fiction." + + + + +II + +MARY LOVELL WARE + + +[Illustration: MARY LOVELL WARE] + +Of all the saints in the calendar of the Church there is no name more +worthy of the honor than that of Mary Lovell Ware. The college of +cardinals, which confers the degree of sainthood for the veneration of +faithful Catholics, will never recognize her merits and encircle her +head with a halo, but when the list of Protestant saints is made up, +the name of Mary L. Ware will be in it, and among the first half dozen +on the scroll. + +The writer was a student in the Divinity School at Cambridge when a +classmate commended to him the Memoirs of Mrs. Ware as one of the few +model biographies. It was a book not laid down in the course of study; +its reading was postponed for that convenient season for which one +waits so long; but he made a mental note of the "Memoirs of Mary L. +Ware," which many years did not efface. There is a book one must read, +he said to himself, if he would die happy. + +Mrs. Ware's maiden name was Pickard. To the end of her days, when she +put herself in a pillory as she often did, she called herself by her +maiden name. "That," she would say, "was Mary Pickard." I infer that +she thought Mary Pickard had been a very bad girl. + +Her mother's name was Lovell,--Mary Lovell,--granddaughter of "Master +Lovell," long known as a classical teacher in colonial Boston, and +daughter of James Lovell, an active Revolutionist, a prominent member +of the Continental Congress and, from the end of the war to his death, +Naval officer in the Boston Custom House. Mr. Lovell had eight sons, +one of whom was a successful London merchant, and one daughter, who +remained with her parents until at twenty-five she married Mr. Pickard +and who, when her little girl was five years old returned, as perhaps +an only daughter should, to take care of her parents in their old age. +So it happened that the childhood of Mrs. Ware was passed at her +grandfather Lovell's, in Pearl St., Boston, then an eligible place of +residence. + +Mr. Pickard was an Englishman by birth, and a merchant with business +connections in London and Boston, between which cities, for a time, +his residence alternated. Not much is said of him in the Memoirs, +beyond the fact that he was an Episcopalian with strong attachment to +the forms of his church, as an Englishman might be expected to be. + +Of Mrs. Pickard we learn more. She is said to have possessed a vigorous +mind, to have been well educated and a fine conversationalist, +with a commanding figure, benignant countenance, and dignified +demeanor, so that one said of her, "She seems to have been born for an +empress." Like her husband she was an Episcopalian though, according +to the Memoirs, less strenuously Episcopalian than Mr. Pickard. She +had been reared in a different school. Her father,--Mr. James +Lovell--we are told, was a free-thinker, or as the Memoirs put it, +"had adopted some infidel principles," and "treated religion with +little respect in his family." The "infidels" of that day were +generally good men, only they were not orthodox. Jefferson, Madison, +Franklin and Washington were such infidels. After Channing's day, this +kind of man here in New England was absorbed by the Unitarian +movement, and, as a separate class, disappeared. Mrs. Pickard was bred +in this school and she appears never to have forgotten her home +training. "She was unostentatious and charitable," says an early +friend, "and her whole life was an exhibition of the ascendency of +_principle_ over mere taste and feeling." + +Her religious attitude becomes interesting, because in an exceptional +degree, she formed her remarkable daughter,--who was an only child and +until the age of thirteen had no teacher except this forceful and +level-headed mother. + +With these antecedents, Mary Lovell Pickard was born in Boston, +October 2, 1798, John Adams being then President. In 1802, Mary having +passed her third summer, Mr. Pickard's business called him to London, +where he resided with his family two years, so that the child's fifth +birthday was duly celebrated in mid-ocean on the homeward voyage. In a +letter of Mrs. Pickard, written during this London residence, she +says, "Mr. Pickard is even more anxious than I to go home. Mary is the +only contented one. She is happy all the time." There is so much that +is sad in this record that, before we have done, the reader will be +glad the little girl had at least a bright and sunny childhood to +remember. It appears she did remember it. It may not be remarkable, +but it is interesting, that the experiences of this early London +life,--between her third and fifth year,--made an indelible +impression upon her, so that twenty years later when she was again in +England, much to her own delight, she "recognized her old London home +and other objects with which she was then familiar." + +A lady who was a fellow passenger of the Pickards on their homeward +voyage was struck by the gentle management of the mother and the easy +docility of the child. To say, "It will make me unhappy if you do +that," was an extreme exercise of maternal authority, to which the +child yielded unresisting obedience. This, of course, is told to the +credit of the child, but the merit, probably belongs to the mother. +Doubtless we could all have such children if we were that kind of a +parent. A little tact, unfailing gentleness, and an infinite self +control: with these, it would seem one may smile and kiss a child into +an angel. + +On arriving in Boston, Mrs. Pickard took her family to her father's, +where she remained until her death, and where, we read, "with parents +and grandparents, Mary found a home whose blessings filled her heart." +Being an only child, with four elderly persons, Mary was likely to be +too much petted or too much fretted. We are glad to know that she was +not fretted or over-trained. In a letter of retrospect, she writes, +"For many years a word of blame never reached my ears." An early +friend of the family writes, "It has been said that Mary was much +indulged; and I believe it may be said so with truth. But she was not +indulged in idleness, selfishness, and rudeness; she was indulged in +healthful sports, in pleasant excursions, and in companionship with +other children." + +Everything went smoothly with her until the age of ten when, rather +earlier than most children, she discovered her conscience: "At ten +years of age I waked up to a sense of the danger of the state of +indulgence in which I was living"; but let us hope the crisis was not +acute. It does not seem to have been. According to the testimony of +her first teacher, she was simply precocious morally, but not at all +morbid. Her school was at Hingham, whither she was sent at the age of +thirteen. The teacher says that with her "devotedness to the highest +objects and purposes of our existence, she was one of the most lively +and playful girls among her companions, and a great favorite with them +all." + +There seems to have been really no cloud upon her existence up to this +point,--the age of thirteen. I have had a reason for dwelling upon +this charming period of her childhood, untroubled by a cloud, because +from this date until her death, the hand of God seems to have been +very heavy upon her, afflictions fell upon her like rain, and it +required a brave spirit to carry the burdens appointed for her to +bear. Happily, she had a brave spirit, did not know that her life was +hard, "gloried in tribulation," like St. Paul, and was never more +cheerful or thankful than when she was herself an invalid, with an +invalid husband to be cared for like a baby, seven children to be +clothed and fed, and not enough money at the year's end to square +accounts. Ruskin tells of a servant who had served his mother +faithfully fifty-seven years. "She had," he says, "a natural gift and +specialty for doing disagreeable things; above all, the service of the +sick-room; so that she was never quite in her glory unless some of us +were ill." It will be seen further on that these were only a part of +the accomplishments of Mrs. Ware. It is fortunate if a woman is so +made that her spirits rise as her troubles thicken, but the reader of +the story will be thankful that her life was not all a battle, that +her childhood was more than ordinarily serene and sunny, and that not +for a dozen years at least, did she have to be a heroine in order to +be happy. + +Mary had been in Hingham about half a year, enjoying her school-girl +life, when her mother was taken ill, fatally ill as it proved, and the +child, then at the age of thirteen, was called home and installed in +the sick-room as nurse. This was the beginning of sorrow. The mother +lingered through the winter and died in the following May. There +remained of the family, the grandparents, one son of fine talents, but +of unfortunate habits, and her father, "broken in spirits and in +fortune, clinging to his only child with doting and dependent +affection." We can see that it could not have been a cheerful home for +a young girl of thirteen. Some thirty years later, she wrote to one of +her children, "I think I have felt the want all my life of a more +cheerful home in my early childhood, a fuller participation in the +pleasures and 'follies' of youth." I put this reflection here, because +it does not apply to the years preceding the loss of her mother while +it exactly fits the period that now follows. + +The year following her mother's death, Mary attended a girls' school +in Boston. A passage from a letter written at this period will show +something of her quality. It is dated February 27, 1813, when she was +fourteen and a few months. Besides, she had been at school, six months +at a time, a total of about one year. She had been mentioning two or +three novels, and then discourses as follows: "Novels are generally +supposed to be improper books for young people, as they take up the +time which ought to be employed in more useful pursuits; which is +certainly very true; but as a recreation to the mind, such books as +these cannot possibly do any hurt, as they are good moral lessons. +Indeed, I think there is scarcely any book from which some good may +not be derived; though it cannot be expected that any young person has +judgment enough to leave all the bad and take only the good, when +there is a great proportion of the former." Perhaps I am wrong in +thinking this an exhibition of remarkable reflection and expression in +a girl well under fifteen, whether she had been at school or +otherwise. Mrs. Ware was always a wonderful letter-writer, though, if +we take her word for it, she had little of her mother's gift as a +conversationalist. It seems to have been a life-long habit to see the +old year out and the new year in, spending the quiet hours in writing +letters to her friends. In one of these anniversary letters, written +when she was fifteen, she says, "I defy anyone to tell from my +appearance that I have not everything to make me happy. I have much +and am happy. My little trials are essential to my happiness." In that +last sentence we have the entire woman. Her trials were always, as she +thought, essential to her happiness. + +On this principle, her next twelve years ought to have been very +happy, since they were sufficiently full of tribulation. The two years +following her mother's death, passed in the lonely home in Boston, +were naturally depressing. Besides, she was born for religion, and the +experience through which she had passed had created a great hunger in +her soul. Trinity Church, into which she had been baptized, had not +yet passed through the hands of Phillips Brooks, and its +ministrations, admirable as they are for the ordinary child, were +inadequate for the wants of a thoughtful girl like Mary Pickard. The +final effect was, she says, to throw her more upon herself and to +compel her to seek, "by reading, meditation and prayer, to find that +knowledge and stimulus to virtue which I failed to find in the +ministrations of the Sabbath." + +At this critical period, she returned to the school at Hingham, which +she had left two years before, and there, in the Third Church, then +presided over by Rev. Henry Colman, one of the fathers of the +Unitarian heresy, she found peace and satisfaction to her spirit. Ten +years later, she spent a week in Hingham, visiting friends and +reviving, as she says, the memory of the "first awakening of my mind +to high and holy thoughts and resolves." The crisis which, elsewhere, +we read of at the age of ten, was a subordinate affair. This Hingham +experience, at the age of sixteen, was really the moral event in her +history. + +As hers was a type of religion,--she would have said "piety",--a blend +of reason and sentiment, peculiar to the Unitarianism of that +generation, hardly to be found in any household of faith to-day, we +must let her disclose her inner consciousness. One Saturday morning, +she writes a long letter to one of her teachers saying that she feels +it a duty and a privilege "to be a member of the Church of Christ," +but she fears she does not understand what the relation implies, and +says, "Tell me if you should consider it a violation of the sacredness +of the institution, to think I might with impunity be a member of it. +I am well aware of the condemnation denounced on those who _partake_ +unworthily." She refers to the Lord's Supper. It is to be hoped that +her teacher knew enough to give the simple explanation of that dark +saying of the apostle about eating unworthily. At all events, she +connected herself with the church, received the communion, and was +very happy. "From the moment I had decided what to do, not a feeling +arose which I could wish to suppress; conscious of pure motives, all +within was calm, and I wondered how I could for a moment hesitate. +They were feelings I never before experienced, and for once I realized +that it is only when we are at peace with ourselves that we can enjoy +true happiness.... I could not sleep, and actually laid awake all +night out of pure happiness." + +After a few months, sooner than she expected, she returns to Boston +and sits under the ministrations of Dr. Channing, to her an object of +veneration. She writes that her heart is too full for utterance: "It +will not surprise you that Mr. Channing's sermons are the cause; but +no account that I could give could convey any idea of them. You have +heard some of the same class; they so entirely absorb the feelings as +to render the mind incapable of action, and consequently leave on the +memory at times no distinct impression." I should like to quote all +she says of Channing, both as a revelation of him, and of herself. She +heard him read the psalm, "What shall I render unto God for all his +mercies?" and says, "The ascription of praise which followed was more +truly sublime than anything I ever heard or read." It must have been +an event,--it certainly was for her,--to listen to one of Dr. +Channing's prayers: "It seems often to me, while in the hour of prayer +I give myself up to the thought of heaven, as though I had in reality +left the world, and was enjoying what is promised to the Christian. I +fear, however, these feelings are too often delusive; we substitute +the love of holiness for the actual possession." + +There her sanity comes in to check her emotionalism. She is reflecting +upon another experience with Dr. Channing when she comes very near +making a criticism upon him. She tells us that she does not mean him; +he is excepted from these remarks, but she says, "There are few +occasions which will authorize a minister to excite the feelings of an +audience in a very great degree, and none which can make it allowable +for him to rest in mere excitement." To complete the portraiture of +her soul, I will take a passage from a letter written at the age of +twenty-five, when death has at last stripped her of all her family, "I +believe that all events that befall us are exactly such as are best +adapted to improve us; and I find in a perfect confidence in the +wisdom and love which I know directs them, a source of peace which no +other thing can give; and in the difficulty which I find in acting +upon this belief I see a weakness of nature, which those very trials +are designed to assist us in overcoming, and which trial alone can +conquer." + +Mary Pickards were not common even in that generation, but this creed +was then common, and this blend of reason and religious feeling, +fearlessly called "piety," was characteristic of Channing, her +teacher, and of Henry Ware, afterward her husband. It was the real +"Channing Unitarianism." Pity there is no more of it. + +Mary was sixteen years old,--to be exact, sixteen and a half; the +serene and beautiful faith of Channing had done its perfect work upon +her; and she was now ready for whatever fate, or as she would have +said, Providence, might choose to send. It sent the business failure +of Mr. Pickard, in which not only his own fortune was swept away but +also the estate of Mr. Lovell was involved. Upon the knowledge of this +disaster, Mary wrote a cheerful letter, in which she said: "I should +be sorry to think you consider me so weak as to bend under a change of +fortune to which all are liable." Certainly she will not bend, but she +is obliged to quit school and return to the shattered home. + +Before the summer was over, her grandfather, Mr. Lovell, died; whether +the end was hastened by the financial embarrassments in which Mr. +Pickard had involved him, is not said. Mrs. Lovell, the grandmother, +followed her husband in two years,--for Mary, two years of assiduous +nursing and tender care. Perhaps one sentence from a letter at this +time will assist us in picturing her in this exacting service. She +says that she is leading a monotonous existence, that her animal +spirits are not sufficient for both duty and solitude, "And when +evening closes, and my beloved charge is laid peacefully to rest, +excitement ceases, and I am thrown on myself for pleasure." + +With the death of the grandmother, the home was broken up, and Mary, +trying to help her father do a little business without capital, went +to New York city as his commercial agent. Her letters to her father +are "almost exclusively business letters," and he on his part gives +her "directions for the sale and purchase, not only of muslins and +moreens, but also of skins, saltpetre, and the like." + +Details of this period of her career are not abundant in the Memoirs, +and the death of her father, in 1823, put an end to her business +apprenticeship. + +Apparently, she was not entirely destitute. At the time of his +disaster, her father wrote, "As we calculated you would, after some +time, have enough to support yourself, without mental or bodily +exertion." That is, presumably, after the settlement of her +grandfather's estate. As her biographer says, "Every member of her own +family had gone, and she had smoothed the passage of everyone." But +she had many friends, and one is tempted to say, Pity she could not +have settled down in cozy quarters and made herself comfortable. + +Indeed she did make a fair start. She joined a couple of friends, +going abroad in search of health, for a visit to England. She had +relatives on the Lovell side, in comfortable circumstances near +London, and an aunt on her father's side, in the north of England, in +straightened circumstances. She resolved to make the acquaintance of +all these relatives. + +The party arrived in Liverpool in April, 1824, and for a year and a +half, during which their headquarters were in London, Paris was +visited, Southern England and Wales were explored, and finally the +Lovell relatives were visited and found to have good hearts and open +arms. For these eighteen months, Mary Pickard's friends could have +wished her no more delightful existence. She had tea with Mrs. +Barbauld, heard Irving, then the famous London preacher, and saw other +interesting persons and charming things in England. There is material +for a very interesting chapter upon this delightful experience. It was +followed by a drama of misery and horror, in which she was both +spectator and actor, when young and old died around her as if smitten +by pestilence, and her own vigorous constitution was irreparably +broken. + +This episode was vastly more interesting to her than the pleasant +commonplace of travel, and much more in keeping with what seems to +have been her destiny. In the autumn of her second year abroad, she +went to discover her aunt, sister of Mr. Pickard, in Yorkshire. The +writer of the Memoirs says that this visit "forms the most remarkable +and in some respects the most interesting and important chapter of her +life." She found her aunt much better than she expected, nearly +overpowered with joy to see her, living in a little two story cottage +of four rooms, which far exceeded anything she ever saw for neatness. +The village bore the peculiarly English name of Osmotherly, and was +the most primitive place she had ever been in. The inhabitants were +all of one class and that the poorer class of laborers, ignorant as +possible, but simple and sociable. Terrible to relate, smallpox, +typhus fever, and whooping cough were at that moment epidemic in that +village. + +It will be impossible to put the situation before us more briefly than +by quoting a passage from one of her letters: "My aunt's two daughters +are married and live in this village; one of them, with three +children, has a husband at the point of death with a fever; his +brother died yesterday of smallpox, and two of her children have the +whooping-cough; added to this, their whole dependence is upon their +own exertions, which are of course entirely stopped now.... You may +suppose, under such a state of things, I shall find enough to do." + +The death of the husband, whom of course Miss Pickard nursed through +his illness, is reported in the next letter, which contains also this +characteristic statement, "It seems to me that posts of difficulty are +my appointed lot and my element, for I do feel lighter and happier +when I have difficulties to overcome. Could you look in upon me you +would think it impossible that I could be even tolerably comfortable, +and yet I am cheerful, and get along as easily as possible, and am in +truth happy." + +Evidently, all we can do with such a person is to congratulate her +over the most terrible experiences. In a letter five days later, the +baby dies of whooping-cough, and in her arms; a fortnight later, the +mother dies of typhus fever; within another month, two boys, now +orphans, are down with the same fever at once, and one of them dies. +In the space of eight weeks, she saw five persons of one family +buried, and four of them she had nursed. By this time, the aunt was +ill, and Miss Pickard nursed her to convalescence. + +This campaign had lasted three months, and she left the scene of +combat with a clear conscience. She was allowed a breathing spell of a +month in which to visit some pleasant friends and recuperate her +strength, when we find her back in Osmotherly again nursing her aunt. +It was the end of December and she was the only servant in the house. +Before this ordeal was over, she was taken ill herself, and had to be +put to bed and nursed. In crossing a room, a cramp took her; she fell +on the floor, lay all night in the cold, calling in vain for +assistance. She did not finally escape from these terrible scenes +until the end of January, five months from the time she entered them. + +Miss Pickard returned to Boston after an absence of about two years +and a half, during which time, as one of her friends wrote her, "You +have passed such trying scenes, have so narrowly escaped, and done +more, much more, than almost any body ever did before." She went away +a dear school-girl friend and a valued acquaintance; she was welcomed +home as a martyr fit to be canonized, and was received as a +conquering heroine. + +In a letter dated from Gretna Green, where so many run-away lovers +have been made happy, she playfully reflects upon the possibilities of +her visit, if only she had a lover, and concludes that she "must +submit to single blessedness a little longer." Our sympathies would +have been less taxed if she had submitted to single blessedness to the +end. Why could she not now be quiet, let well enough alone, and make +herself comfortable? Destiny had apparently ordered things for her +quite differently. One cannot avoid his destiny, and it was her +destiny to marry, and marriage was to bring her great happiness, +tempered by great sorrows. + +The man who was to share her happiness and her sorrows was Rev. Henry +Ware, Jr., then the almost idolized minister of the Second Church, in +Boston. Mr. Ware was the son of another Henry Ware, professor of +theology at Harvard, whose election to the chair of theology in 1806 +opened the great Unitarian controversy. Two sons of Professor Ware +entered the ministry, Henry and William, the latter the first +Unitarian minister settled in New York city. Rev. John F. Ware, well +remembered as pastor of Arlington St. Church in Boston, was the son +of Henry, so that for more than half a century, the name of Ware was a +great factor in Unitarian history. + +After Dr. Channing, Henry Ware was perhaps the most popular preacher +in any Boston pulpit. One sermon preached by him on a New Year's eve, +upon the Duty of Improvement, became memorable. In spite of a violent +snow storm, the church was filled to overflowing, a delegation coming +from Cambridge. Of this sermon, a hearer said: "No words from mortal +lips ever affected me like those." There was a difference between +Unitarian preaching then and now. That famous sermon closed like this: +"I charge you, as in the presence of God, who sees and will judge +you,--in the name of Jesus Christ, who beseeches you to come to him +and live,--by all your hopes of happiness and life,--I charge you let +not this year die, and leave you impenitent. Do not dare to utter +defiance in its decaying hours. But, in the stillness of its awful +midnight, prostrate yourselves penitently before your Maker; and let +the morning sun rise upon you, thoughtful and serious men." One does +not see how the so-called 'Evangelicals' could have quarreled with +that preaching. + +Mr. Ware had been in his parish nine years, his age was thirty-two, he +was in the prime of life, and at the climax of his power and his +popularity. Three years before, he had been left a widower with three +young children, one of whom became Rev. John F. Ware. That these two +intensely religious natures, that of Mary Pickard and that of Henry +Ware, should have been drawn together is not singular. In writing to +his sister, Mr. Ware speaks tenderly of his late wife and says, "I +have sought for the best mother to her children, and the best I have +found." Late in life, one of these children said, "Surely God never +gave a boy such a mother or a man such a friend." + +Miss Pickard engaged to be a very docile wife. "Instead of the +self-dependent self-governed being you have known me," she writes to a +friend, "I have learned to look to another for guidance and +happiness." She is "as happy as mortal can be." Indeed it was almost +too much for earth. "It has made me," she says, "more willing to leave +the world and enjoy the happiness of heaven than I ever thought I +should be. Strange that a thing from which of all others, I should +have expected the very opposite effect, should have done this." + +The year following the marriage of these saintly lovers,--one can call +them nothing less,--was one of exceeding happiness and of immense +activity to both. It is not said, but we can see that each must have +been a tonic to the other. Considerate persons felt a scruple about +taking any of the time of their pastor's wife. "Mrs. Ware," said one, +"at home and abroad, is the busiest woman of my acquaintance," and +others felt that way. Before the year ended, Mrs. Ware had a boy baby +of her own to increase her occupations and her happiness. It lived a +few bright years, long enough to become a very attractive child and to +give a severe wrench to her heart when it left her. This experience +seems to have a certain fitness in a life in which every joy was to +bring sorrow and every sorrow, by sheer will, was to be turned to joy. + +Of Mr. Ware, it is said that this first year "was one of the most +active and also, to all human appearance, one of the most successful +of his ministry." He put more work into his sermons, gave increased +attention to the details of his parish, delivered a course of +lectures, and undertook other enterprises, some of which are +specified; and, during a temporary absence of Mrs. Ware, wrote her +that he had hoped he had turned over a new leaf, "but by foolish +degrees, I have got back to all my accustomed carelessness and waste +of powers, and am doing nothing in proportion to what I ought to do." + +But man is mortal, and there is a limit to human endurance. Mr. Ware +could not lash himself into greater activity; but he was in good +condition to be ill. In a journey from Northampton, he was prostrated +by inflammation of the lungs, with hemorrhages, and after several +weeks, Mrs. Ware, herself far from well, went to him and finally +brought him home. This was the beginning of what became a very regular +annual experience. I met a lady who was brought up on the Memoirs of +Mary L. Ware, and who briefly put what had impressed her most, in this +way: She said, "It seemed as though Mr. Ware was always going off on a +journey for his health, and that Mrs. Ware was always going after him +to bring him home"; if we remember this statement, and add the fact +that these calls came more than once when Mrs. Ware was on the sick +list herself, we shall be able greatly to shorten our history. + +This was the end of Mr. Ware's parish work. He was nursed through the +winter and, in early spring, Mrs. Ware left her baby and took her +invalid husband abroad, in pursuit of health, spending a year and a +half in England, Holland, Switzerland, and Italy. It was, she +afterward said, the most trying period of her life. Mr. Ware +alternated between being fairly comfortable and very miserable, so +that these Memoirs say "He enjoyed much, but suffered more." Still the +travels would be interesting if we had time to follow them. + +Near the close of the first year abroad, Mrs. Ware's second child was +born in Rome, and, although this was as she would have said, +"providential," never was a child less needed in a family. Mrs. Ware +had then two babies on her hands, and of these, her invalid husband +was the greater care. In the following August, Mrs. Ware arrived in +Boston with her double charge, and had the happiness to know that Mr. +Ware was somewhat better in health than when he left home, a year and +a half before. + +His parish, during his absence, had been in the care of a colleague, +no other than the Rev. Ralph Waldo Emerson. If you remember the New +Year's Eve sermon of Mr. Ware, it will be evident that he must have +left behind him a very conservative parish, and you will not be +surprised that in about four years, Mr. Emerson found his chains +intolerable. + +Mr. Ware had been invited to a professorship in the Harvard Divinity +School, and it was to this and not to his parish that he returned. For +the steady, one might say monotonous, duties of his professorship, Mr. +Ware's health was generally sufficient. The lecture room did not exact +the several hundred parish calls then demanded by a large city church, +nor the exhausting effort which Mr. Ware and Dr. Channing put into the +delivery of a sermon; and the lectures, once prepared, could be +delivered and re-delivered from year to year. Real leisure was +impossible to one of Mr. Ware's temperament, but here was a life of +comparative leisure; and for Mrs. Ware, who shared all the joys and +sorrows of her husband, the twelve years that follow brought a settled +existence and very much happiness. Neither her own health nor that of +her husband was ever very firm, and there was always a great emptiness +in the family purse, but with Mrs. Ware, these were, as with Paul, +"light afflictions" which were but for a moment, and she did not let +them disturb her happiness. + +Impossible as it may seem, they contributed to her happiness. She made +them contribute to it. She says in a letter of 1831, "Of my winter's +sickness I cannot write; it contained a long life of enjoyment, and +what I hoped would be profitable thought and reflection." She repeats +this statement to another correspondent, and says, with apparent +regret, that the illness did not bring her "to that cheerful +willingness to resign my life, after which I strove." You cannot send +this woman any trial which she will not welcome, because she wants to +be made to want to go to heaven, and she is as yet not quite ready for +it. + +Mr. Ware has been dangerously ill, and of course she could not spare +herself for heaven until he recovered, but this trial did something +quite as good for her: "My husband's danger renewed the so oft +repeated testimony that strength is ever at hand for those who need +it, gave me another exercise of trust in that mighty arm which can +save to the uttermost, and in its result is a new cause for gratitude +to Him who has so abundantly blessed me all the days of my life." It +is good to see what the old-fashioned doctrine that God really is, +and is good, did for one who actually believed. + +That first baby, whom she left behind when she went abroad with her +invalid husband, died in 1831; the mother fainted when the last breath +left the little body; but this is the way she writes of it: "I have +always looked upon the death of children rather as a subject of joy +than sorrow, and have been perplexed at seeing so many, who would bear +what seemed to me much harder trials with firmness, so completely +overwhelmed by this, as is frequently the case." + +After that, one is almost ashamed to mention the trifle that the +income of this family was very small. Mr. Ware, after 1834 _Dr._ Ware, +held a new professorship, the endowment of which was yet mostly +imaginary. The social demands took no account of the family income; +the unexpected guest always dropping in; at certain times, it is said, +"shoals of visitors;" and the larder always a little scantily +furnished. If one wants to know how one ought to live under such +circumstances, here is your shining example. "There were no apologies +at that table," we are told. "If unexpected guests were not always +filled, they were never annoyed, nor suffered to think much about it." +"I remember," says a guest, "the wonder I felt at her humility and +dignity in welcoming to her table on some occasion a troop of +accidental guests, when she had almost nothing to offer but her +hospitality. The absence of all apologies and of all mortification, +the ease and cheerfulness of the conversation, which became the only +feast, gave me a lesson never forgotten, although never learned." + +The problem of dress was as simple to Mrs. Ware as was the +entertainment of her guests. "As to her attire," says an intimate +friend, "we should say no one thought of it at all, because of its +simplicity, and because of her ease of manners and dignity of +character. Yet the impression is qualified, though in one view +confirmed, by hearing that, in a new place of residence, so plain was +her appearance on all occasions, the villagers suspected her of +reserving her fine clothes for some better class." There are those who +might consider these circumstances, very sore privations. What Mrs. +Ware says of them is, "I have not a word of complaint to make. We are +far better provided for than is necessary to our happiness." I am +persuaded that this is an immensely wholesome example and that more of +this kind of woman is needed to mother the children of our generation. +In a letter to one of her daughters, she says she has great sympathy +with the struggles of young people, that she had struggles too and +learned her lessons young, that she found very early in life that her +own position was not in the least affected by these externals, "I soon +began to look upon my oft-turned dress with something like pride, +certainly with great complacency; and to see in that and all other +marks of my mother's prudence and consistency, only so many proofs of +her dignity and self-respect,--the dignity and self-respect which grew +out of her just estimate of the true and the right in herself and in +the world." + +We have seen enough of this woman to discover that she could not be +made unhappy, and also to discover why. It was because her nature was +so large and strong and fine. Sometimes she thinks Dr. Ware would be +better and happier in a parish, "But I have no care about the future +other than that which one must have,--a desire to fulfil the duties +which it may bring." Surely that is being, + + "Self-poised and independent still + On this world's varying good or ill." + +In 1842, Dr. Ware's health became so much impaired that Mrs. Ware +entertains an unfulfilled desire. It is to get away from Cambridge, +which had become so dear to them all. "I scruple not to say that a +ten-foot house, and bread and water diet, with a sense of rest to +_him_, would be a luxury." The family removed to Framingham, where Dr. +Ware died, a year later. Whatever tribulations might be in store for +Mrs. Ware, anxiety on his account was not to be one of them. + +Death came on Friday; on Sunday, Mrs. Ware attended church with all +her family, and the occasion must have been more trying for the +minister who preached to her than for herself. A short service was +held that Sunday evening at six, and "Then," she says, "John and I +brought dear father's body to Cambridge in our own carriage; we could +not feel willing to let strangers do anything in connection with him +which we could do ourselves." Think of that dark, silent lonely ride +from Framingham to Cambridge! But here was a woman who did not spare +herself, and did not ask what somebody would think of her doings. + +After this event, the Memoirs tell us that a gentleman in Milton gave +her a very earnest invitation to go there and take the instruction of +three little children in connection with her own. In this occupation +she spent six years of great outward comfort and usefulness. There is +much in these years, or in the letters of these years, of great +interest and moral beauty. Even with young children to leave, she +speaks of death as serenely as she would of going to Boston. "I do not +feel that I am essential to my children. I do not feel that I am +competent to train them." + +Of her last illness, one of her children wrote, "Never did a sick room +have less of the odor of sickness than that. It was the brightest spot +on earth." "Come with a _smile_," she said to a friend whom she had +summoned for a last farewell, and so went this remarkable and +exceptionally noble woman. + + + + +III + +LYDIA MARIA CHILD + + +[Illustration: LYDIA MARIA CHILD] + +In the second quarter of the nineteenth century, few names in American +literature were more conspicuous than that of Lydia Maria Child, and +among those few, if we except that of Miss Sedgwick, there was +certainly no woman's name. Speaking with that studied reserve which +became its dignity, the _North American Review_ said of her: "We are +not sure that any woman of our country could outrank Mrs. Child. This +lady has been before the public as an author with much success. And +she well deserves it, for in all her works, nothing can be found which +does not commend itself by its tone of healthy morality and good +sense. Few female writers if any have done more or better things for +our literature in the lighter or graver departments." + +Mrs. Child began her literary career in 1824 with "Hobomok, a Tale of +Early Times," and she closed it with a volume of biography, entitled +"Good Wives," in 1871. Between these two dates, covering forty-seven +years, her publications extended to more than thirty titles, and +include stories, poems, biographies, studies in history, in household +economics, in politics, and in religion. "Her books," says Col. +Higginson, "never seemed to repeat each other and belonged to almost +as many different departments as there are volumes"; and while writing +so much, he adds, "she wrote better than most of her contemporaries." + +If she had not done many things so well, she would still have the +distinction of having done several things the first time they were +ever done at all. It has been claimed that she edited the first +American magazine for children, wrote the first novel of puritan +times, published the first American Anti-Slavery book, and compiled +the first treatise upon what is now known as "Comparative Religions," +a science not then named, but now a department in every school of +theology. + +Mrs. Child's maiden name was Francis, and under that name she won her +first fame. She was born in Medford, Mass., Feb. 11, 1802. Her father, +Convers Francis, is said to have been a worthy and substantial +citizen, a baker by trade, and the author of the "Medford Crackers," +in their day second only in popularity to "Medford Rum." He was a man +of strong character, great industry, uncommon love of reading, +zealous anti-slavery convictions, generous and hospitable. All these +traits were repeated in his famous daughter. It was the custom of Mr. +Francis, on the evening before Thanksgiving to gather in his +dependents and humble friends to the number of twenty or thirty, and +feast them on chicken pie, doughnuts and other edibles, sending them +home with provisions for a further festival, including "turnovers" for +the children. Col. Higginson, who had the incident from Mrs. Child, +intimates that in this experience she may have discovered how much +more blessed it is to give than to receive. Certainly, in later life, +she believed and practiced this doctrine like a devotee. + +Mrs. Child began to climb the hill of knowledge under the instruction +of a maiden lady known as "Ma'am Betty," who kept school in her +bedroom which was never in order, drank from the nose of her +tea-kettle, chewed tobacco and much of it, and was shy to a degree +said to have been "supernatural," but she knew the way to the hearts +of children, who were very fond of her and regularly carried her a +Sunday dinner. After "Ma'am Betty," Mrs. Child attended the public +schools in Medford and had a year at a Medford private seminary. + +These opportunities for education were cut off at the age of twelve +apparently by some change in the family fortunes which compelled the +removal of Maria to Norridgewock, Maine, on the borders of the great +northern wilderness, where a married sister was living. An influence +to which she gave chief credit for her intellectual development and +which was not wholly cut off by this removal was that of Convers +Francis, her favorite brother, next older than herself, afterward +minister in Watertown, and professor in the Divinity School of Harvard +University. In later life, Dr. Francis was an encyclopedia of +information and scholarship, very liberal in his views for the time. +Theodore Parker used to head pages in his journal with, "Questions to +ask Dr. Francis." + +Dr. Francis began to prepare for college when Mrs. Child was nine +years old. Naturally the little girl wanted to read the books which +her brother read, and sometimes he seems to have instructed her and +sometimes he tantalized her, but always he stimulated her. Years +afterward she wrote him gratefully, "To your early influence, by +conversation, letters, and example I owe it that my busy energies +took a literary direction at all." + +Norridgewock, her home from her twelfth to her eighteenth year, was +and is a very pretty country village, at that era the residence of +some very cultivated families, but hardly an educational center. As we +hear nothing of schools either there or elsewhere we are led to +suppose that this twelve year old girl had finished her education. If +she lacked opportunities for culture, she carried with her a desire +for it, which is half the battle, and she had the intellectual +stimulus of letters from her brother then in college, who seems to +have presided over her reading. What we know of her life at this +period is told in her letters to this brother. + +The first of these letters which the editors let us see was written at +the age of fifteen. "I have," she says, "been busily engaged reading +Paradise Lost. Homer hurried me along with rapid impetuosity; every +passion that he portrayed I felt; I loved, hated, and resented just as +he inspired me. But when I read Milton I felt elevated 'above this +visible, diurnal sphere.' I could not but admire such astonishing +grandeur of description, such heavenly sublimity of style. Much as I +admire Milton, I must confess that Homer is a much greater favorite." + +It is not strange that a studious brother in college would take +interest in a sister who at the age of fifteen could write him with so +much intelligence and enthusiasm of her reading. The next letter is +two years later when she has been reading Scott. She likes Meg +Merrilies, Diana Vernon, Annot Lyle, and Helen Mac Gregor. She hopes +she may yet read Virgil in his own tongue, and adds, "I usually spend +an hour after I retire for the night in reading Gibbon's Roman Empire. +The pomp of his style at first displeased me, but I think him an able +historian." + +This is from a girl of seventeen living on the edge of the northern +wilderness, and she is also reading Shakspere. "What a vigorous grasp +of intellect," she says, "what a glow of imagination he must have +possessed, but when his fancy drops a little, how apt he is to make +low attempts at wit, and introduce a forced play upon words." She is +also reading the Spectator, and does not think Addison so good a +writer as Johnson, though a more polished one. + +What she was doing with her ever busy hands during this period we are +not told, but her intellectual life ran on in these channels until +she reaches the age of eighteen, when she is engaged to teach a school +in Gardiner, Maine, an event which makes her very happy. "I cannot +talk about books," she writes, "nor anything else until I tell you the +good news, that I leave Norridgewock as soon as the travelling is +tolerable and take a school in Gardiner." It is the terrible month of +March, for country roads in the far north, "the saddest of the year." +She wishes her brother were as happy as she is, though, "All I expect +is that, if I am industrious and prudent, I shall be independent." + +At the conclusion of her school, she took up her residence with her +brother in Watertown, Mass., where one year before, he had been +settled as minister of the first parish. Here a new career opened +before her. Whittier says that in her Norridgewock period, when she +first read Waverly at the house of her physician, she laid down the +book in great excitement, exclaiming, "Why cannot I write a novel?" +Apparently, she did not undertake the enterprise for two years or +more. In 1824, one Sunday after morning service, in her brother's +study, she read an article in the _North American Review_, in which it +was pointed out that there were great possibilities of romance in +early American history. Before the afternoon service, she had written +the first chapter of a novel which was published anonymously the same +year, under the title of "Hobomok: a Tale of Early Times." + +A search through half a dozen Antique Book stores in Boston for a copy +of this timid literary venture I have found to be fruitless, except +for the information that there is sometimes a stray copy in stock, and +that its present value is about three dollars. It is sufficient +distinction that it was the first attempt to extract a romantic +element from early New England history. Its reception by the public +was flattering to a young author. The Boston Athenaeum sent her a +ticket granting the privileges of its library. So great and perhaps +unexpected had been its success that for several years, Mrs. Child's +books bore the signature, "By the author of Hobomok." Even "The Frugal +Housewife" was "By the author of Hobomok." + +In 1825, the author of Hobomok published her second novel, entitled, +"The Rebels: a Tale of the Revolution." It is a volume of about 300 +pages, and is still very readable. It ran rapidly through several +editions, and very much increased the reputation of the author of +Hobomok. The work contains an imaginary speech of James Otis, in +which it is said, "England might as well dam up the Nile with +bulrushes as to fetter the step of Freedom, more proud and firm in +this youthful land than where she treads the sequestered glens of +Scotland or couches herself among the magnificent mountains of +Switzerland." This supposed speech of Otis soon found its way into the +School Readers of the day, as a genuine utterance of the Revolutionary +patriot, and as such Col. Higginson says he memorized and declaimed +it, in his youth. + +This literary success was achieved at the age of twenty-three, and the +same year Miss Francis opened a private school in Watertown, which she +continued three years, until her marriage gave her other occupations. +In 1826, she started _The Juvenile Miscellany_, as already mentioned, +said to be the first magazine expressly for children, in this country. +In it, first appeared many of her charming stories afterward gathered +up in little volumes entitled, "Flowers for Children." + +In 1828, she was married to Mr. David Lee Child, then 34 years of age, +eight years older than herself. Whittier describes him, as a young and +able lawyer, a member of the Massachusetts legislature, and editor of +the _Massachusetts Journal_. Mr. Child graduated at Harvard in 1817 +in the class with George Bancroft, Caleb Cushing, George B. Emerson, +and Samuel J. May. Between 1818 and 1824, he was in our diplomatic +service abroad under Hon. Alexander Everett, at that time, Charge +d'Affaires in the Netherlands. On his return to America, Mr. Child +studied law in Watertown where, at the house of a mutual friend, he +met Miss Lydia Maria Francis. She herself reports this interesting +event under date of Dec. 2, 1824. "Mr. Child dined with us in +Watertown. He possesses the rich fund of an intelligent traveller, +without the slightest tinge of a traveller's vanity. Spoke of the +tardy improvement of the useful arts in Spain and Italy." Nearly two +months pass, when we have this record: "Jan. 26, 1825. Saw Mr. Child +at Mr. Curtis's. He is the most gallant man that has lived since the +sixteenth century and needs nothing but helmet, shield, and +chain-armor to make him a complete knight of chivalry." Not all the +meetings are recorded, for, some weeks later, "March 3," we have this +entry, "One among the many delightful evenings spent with Mr. Child. I +do not know which to admire most, the vigor of his understanding or +the ready sparkle of his wit." + +There can be no doubt that she thoroughly enjoyed these interviews, +and we shall have to discount the statement of any observer who +gathered a different impression. Mr. George Ticknor Curtis, at whose +home some of these interviews took place, was a boy of twelve, and may +have taken the play of wit between the parties too seriously. He says, +"At first Miss Francis did not like Mr. Child. Their intercourse was +mostly banter and mutual criticism. Observers said, 'Those two people +will end in marrying.' Miss Francis was not a beautiful girl in the +ordinary sense, but her complexion was good, her eyes were bright, her +mouth expressive and her teeth fine. She had a great deal of wit, +liked to use it, and did use it upon Mr. Child who was a frequent +visitor; but her deportment was always maidenly and lady-like." + +The engagement happened in this wise. Mr. Child had been admitted to +the bar and had opened an office in Boston. One evening about nine +o'clock he rode out to Watertown on horseback and called at the +Curtises' where Miss Francis then was. "My mother, who believed the +denouement had come," says Mr. Curtis, "retired to her chamber. Mr. +Child pressed his suit earnestly. Ten o'clock came, then eleven, then +twelve. The horse grew impatient and Mr. Child went out once or twice +to pacify him, and returned. At last, just as the clock was striking +one, he went. Miss Francis rushed into my mother's room and told her +she was engaged to Mr. Child." + +There are indications in this communication that Mr. Curtis did not +himself greatly admire Mr. Child and would not have married him, but +he concedes that, "Beyond all doubt, Mrs. Child was perfectly happy in +her relations with him, through their long life." After their +marriage, he says, they went to housekeeping in a "very small house in +Boston," where Mr. Curtis, then a youth of sixteen, visited them and +partook of a simple, frugal dinner which the lady cooked and served +with her own hands, and to which Mr. Child returned from his office, +"cheery and breezy," and we may hope the vivacity of the host may have +made up for the frugality of the entertainment. + +In "Letters from New York," written to the Boston _Courier_, she +speaks tenderly of her Boston home which she calls "Cottage Place" and +declares it the dearest spot on earth. I assume it was this "very +small house" where she began her married life, where she dined the +fastidious Mr. Curtis, and where she seems to have spent eight or +nine happy years. Her marriage brought her great happiness. A friend +says, "The domestic happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Child seemed to me +perfect. Their sympathies, their admiration of all things good, and +their hearty hatred of all things mean and evil, were in entire +unison. Mr. Child shared his wife's enthusiasms and was very proud of +her. Their affection, never paraded, was always manifest." After Mr. +Child's death, Mrs. Child said, "I believe a future life would be of +small value to me, if I were not united to him." + +Mr. Child was a man of fine intellect, with studious tastes and +habits, but there is too much reason to believe that his genius did +not lie in the management of practical life. Details of business were +apparently out of his sphere. "It was like cutting stones with a +razor," says one who knew him. "He was a visionary," says another, +"who always saw a pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow." This was a +kind of defect which, though it cost her dear, Mrs. Child, of all +persons, could most easily forgive. One great success he achieved: +that was in winning and keeping the heart of Mrs. Child. Their married +life seems to have been one long honeymoon. "I always depended," she +says, "upon his richly stored mind, which was able and ready to +furnish needed information on any subject. He was my walking +dictionary of many languages, and my universal encyclopedia. In his +old age, he was as affectionate and devoted as when the lover of my +youth; nay, he manifested even more tenderness. He was often singing, + + 'There's nothing half so sweet in life + As love's _old_ dream.' + +Very often, when he passed me, he would lay his hand softly on my head +and murmur 'Carum Caput.'... He never would see anything but the +bright side of my character. He always insisted upon thinking that +whatever I said was the wisest and whatever I did was the best." + +In the anti-slavery conflict, Mr. Child's name was among the earliest, +and at the beginning of the controversy, few were more prominent. In +1832, he published in Boston a series of articles upon slavery and the +slave-trade; in 1836, another series upon the same subject, in +Philadelphia; in 1837, an elaborate memoir upon the subject for an +anti-slavery society in France, and an able article in a _London +Review_. It is said that the speeches of John Quincy Adams in Congress +were greatly indebted to the writings of Mr. Child, both for facts and +arguments. + +Such, briefly, is the man with whom Mrs. Child is to spend forty-five +years of her useful and happy life. In 1829, the year after her +marriage, she put her twelve months of experience and reflection into +a book entitled, "The Frugal Housewife." "No false pride," she says, +"or foolish ambition to appear as well as others, should induce a +person to live a cent beyond the income of which he is assured." "We +shall never be free from embarrassment until we cease to be ashamed of +industry and economy." "The earlier children are taught to turn their +faculties to some account the better for them and for their parents." +"A child of six years is old enough to be made useful and should be +taught to consider every day lost in which some little thing has not +been done to assist others." We are told that a child can be taught to +braid straw for his hats or to make feather fans; the objection to +which would be that a modern mother would not let a child wear that +kind of hat nor carry the fan. + +The following will be interesting if not valuable: "Cheap as stockings +are, it is good economy to knit them; knit hose wear twice as long as +woven; and they can be done at odd moments of time which would not be +otherwise employed." What an age that must have been when one had time +enough and to spare! Other suggestions are quite as curious. The book +is "dedicated to those who are not ashamed of economy." "The writer," +she says, "has no apology to offer for this little book of economical +hints, except her deep conviction that such a book is needed. In this +case, renown is out of the question; and ridicule is a matter of +indifference." + +Goethe made poems of his chagrins; Mrs. Child in this instance +utilized her privations and forced economies to make a book; and a +wonderfully successful book it was. She was not wrong in supposing it +would meet a want. During the next seven years, it went through twenty +editions, or three editions a year; in 1855, it had reached its +thirty-third edition, averaging little short of one edition a year for +thirty-six years. Surely this was a result which made a year of +economical living in a "very small house" worth while. + +"The Frugal Housewife" was a true "mother's book," although another +and later volume was so named. "The Mother's Book" was nearly as +successful as "The Frugal Housewife," and went through eight American +editions, twelve English, and one German. The success of these books +gave Mrs. Child a good income, and she hardly needed to be the "frugal +housewife" she had been before. + +A check soon came to her prosperity. In 1831, she met Garrison and, +being inflammable, caught fire from his anti-slavery zeal, and became +one of his earliest and staunchest disciples. The free use of the +Athenaeum library which had been graciously extended to her ten years +before, now enabled her to study the subject of slavery in all its +aspects, historical, legal, theoretical, and practical and, in 1833, +she embodied the results of her investigations in a book entitled, "An +Appeal in behalf of the class of Americans called Africans." The +material is chiefly drawn from Southern sources, the statute books of +Southern states, the columns of Southern newspapers, and the +statements and opinions of Southern public men. It is an effective +book to read even now when one is in a mood to rose-color the old-time +plantation life and doubtful whether anything could be worse than the +present condition of the negro in the South. + +The book had two kinds of effect. It brought upon Mrs. Child the +incontinent wrath of all persons who, for any reason, thought that the +only thing to do with slavery was to let it alone. "A lawyer, +afterward attorney-general," a description that fits Caleb Cushing, is +said to have used tongs to throw the obnoxious book out of the window; +the Athenaeum withdrew from Mrs. Child the privileges of its library; +former friends dropped her acquaintance; Boston society shut its doors +upon her; the sale of her books fell off; subscriptions to her +_Juvenile Miscellany_ were discontinued; and the magazine died after a +successful life of eight years; and Mrs. Child found that she had +ventured upon a costly experiment. This consequence she had +anticipated and it had for her no terrors. "I am fully aware," she +says in her preface, "of the unpopularity of the task I have +undertaken; but though I expect ridicule, I do not fear it.... Should +it be the means of advancing even one single hour the inevitable +progress of truth and justice, I would not exchange the consciousness +for all Rothschild's wealth or Sir Walter's fame." + +Of course a book of such evident significance and power would have +had another effect; by his own acknowledgement, it brought Dr. +Channing into the anti-slavery crusade, and he published a book upon +slavery in 1835; it led Dr. John G. Palfry, who had inherited a +plantation in Louisiana, to emancipate his slaves; and, as he has more +than once said, it changed the course of Col. T. W. Higginson's life +and made him an abolitionist. "As it was the first anti-slavery work +ever printed in America in book form, so," says Col. Higginson, "I +have always thought it the ablest." Whittier says, "It is no +exaggeration to say that no man or woman at that period rendered more +substantial service to the cause of freedom, or made such a 'great +renunciation' in doing it." + +Turning from the real world, which was becoming too hard for her, Mrs. +Child took refuge in dreamland and wrote "Philothea: a story of +Ancient Greece," published in 1835. Critics have objected that this +delightful romance is not an exact reproduction of Greek life, but is +Hamlet a reproduction of anything that ever happened in Denmark, or +Browning's Saul of anything that could have happened in Judea, a +thousand years before Christ? To Lowell, Mrs. Child was and remained +"Philothea." Higginson says that the lines in which Lowell describes +her in the "Fable for Critics," are the one passage of pure poetry it +contains, and at the same time the most charming sketch ever made of +Mrs. Child. + + "There comes Philothea, her face all aglow; + She has just been dividing some poor creature's woe, + And can't tell which pleases her most--to relieve + His want, or his story to hear and believe. + No doubt against many deep griefs she prevails, + For her ear is the refuge of destitute tales; + She knows well that silence is sorrow's best food, + And that talking draws off from the heart its bad blood." + +In 1836, Mr. Child went abroad to study the Beet Sugar industry in +France, Holland, and Germany and, after an absence of a year and a +half, returned to engage in Beet Sugar Farming at Northampton, Mass. +He received a silver medal for raw and refined sugar at the Exhibition +of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanics Association in 1839, and a +premium of $100 from the Massachusetts Agricultural society the same +year. He published a well written and edifying book upon "Beet Sugar," +giving the results of his investigations and experiments. It was an +enterprise of great promise, but has taken half a century, in this +country, to become a profitable industry. + +Mrs. Child's letters from 1838 to 1841 are dated from Northampton, +where she is assisting to work out the "Beet Sugar" experiment. It +would have been a rather grinding experience to any one with less +cheerfulness than Mrs. Child. She writes, June 9, 1838, "A month +elapsed before I stepped into the woods which were all around me +blooming with flowers. I did not go to Mr. Dwight's ordination, nor +have I yet been to meeting. He has been to see me however, and though +I left my work in the midst and sat down with a dirty gown and hands +somewhat grimmed, we were high in the blue in fifteen minutes." Mr. +Dwight was Rev. John S. Dwight, Brook Farmer, and editor of _Dwight's +Journal of Music_. + +Half of her published letters are addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Francis G. +Shaw, parents of Col. Robert G. Shaw. Here is one in 1840, to Mr. +Shaw, after she had made a trip to Boston. It will be interesting as +presenting a new aspect of Mrs. Child's nature: "The only thing, +except meeting dear friends, that attracted me to Boston was the +exhibition of statuary.... I am ashamed to say how deeply I am charmed +with sculpture: ashamed because it seems like affectation in one who +has had such limited opportunity to become acquainted with the arts. I +have a little figure of a caryatid which acts upon my spirit like a +magician's spell.... Many a time this hard summer, I have laid down my +dish-cloth or broom and gone to refresh my spirit by gazing on it a +few minutes. It speaks to me. It says glorious things. In summer I +place flowers before it; and I have laid a garland of acorns and +amaranths at its feet. I do love every little bit of real sculpture." + +Her other artistic passion was music, quite out of her reach at this +period; but happily, she loved birds and flowers, both of which a Beet +Sugar Farm in the Connecticut Valley made possible. A family of +swallows made their nest in her woodshed, husband and wife dividing +the labors of construction, nursing, and even of incubation, though +the male bird did not have the same skill and grace as the lady, in +placing his feet and wings. Mrs. Child gives a pretty account of this +incident in a letter to one of her little friends, and says, "It seems +as if I could watch them forever." Later, in one of her letters to +the Boston _Courier_, she gives a more complete account of the +episode. Her observations convinced her that birds have to be taught +to fly, as a child is taught to walk. + +When birds and flowers went, she had the autumn foliage, and she +managed to say a new thing about it: it is "color taking its fond and +bright farewell of form--like the imagination giving a deeper, richer, +and warmer glow to old familiar truths before the winter of +rationalism comes and places trunk and branches in naked outline +against the cold, clear sky." + +Whether she had been living hitherto in a "rent" we are not told, but +in a letter of February 8, 1841, she informs us that she is about to +move to a farm on which "is a sort of a shanty with two rooms and a +garret. We expect to whitewash it, build a new woodshed, and live +there next year. I shall keep no help, and there will be room for +David and me. I intend to half bury it in flowers." + +There is nothing fascinating in sordid details, but Mrs. Child in the +midst of sordid details, is glorious. A month before this last letter, +her brother, Prof. Francis, had written her apparently wishing her +more congenial circumstances; we have only her reply, from which it +appears her father is under her care. She declines her brother's +sympathy, and wonders that he can suppose "the deadening drudgery of +the world" can imprison a soul in its caverns. "It is not merely an +eloquent phrase," she says, "but a distinct truth that the outward has +no power over us but that which we voluntarily give it. It is not I +who drudge; it is merely the case that contains me. I defy all the +powers of earth and hell to make me scour floors and feed pigs, if I +choose meanwhile to be off conversing with angels.... If I can in +quietude and cheerfulness forego my own pleasures and relinquish my +tastes, to administer to my father's daily comfort, I seem to those +who live in shadows to be cooking food and mixing medicines, but I am +in fact making divine works of art which will reveal to me their fair +proportions in the far eternity." Besides this consolation, she says, +"Another means of keeping my soul fresh is my intense love of nature. +Another help, perhaps stronger than either of the two, is domestic +love." + +Her Northampton life was nearer an end than she supposed when she +wrote these letters; she did not spend the next year in the little +farm house with "two rooms and a garret"; on May 27th, she dates a +letter from New York city, where she has gone reluctantly to edit the +_Anti-Slavery Standard_. She had been translated from the sphere of +"cooking food and mixing medicines" to congenial literary occupations; +she had, let us hope, a salary sufficient for her urgent necessities; +her home was in the family of the eminent Quaker philanthropist, Isaac +T. Hopper, who received her as a daughter, and whose kindness she +repaid by writing his biography. However the venture might come out, +we would think her life could not well be harder or less attractive +than it had been, drudging in a dilapidated farm house, and we are +glad she is well out of it. Strange to say, she did not take our view +of the situation. We have already seen how independent she was of +external circumstances. In a letter referred to, dated May 27, she +chides a friend for writing accounts of her outward life: "What do I +care whether you live in one room or six? I want to know what your +spirit is doing. What are you thinking, feeling, and reading?... My +task here is irksome enough. Your father will tell you that it was not +zeal for the cause, but love for my husband, which brought me hither. +But since it was necessary for me to leave home to be earning +somewhat, I am thankful that my work is for the anti-slavery cause. I +have agreed to stay one year. I hope I shall then be able to return to +my husband and rural home, which is humble enough, yet very +satisfactory to me. Should the _Standard_ be continued, and my editing +generally desired, perhaps I could make an arrangement to send +articles from Northampton. At all events, I trust the weary separation +from my husband is not to last more than a year. If I am to be away +from him, I could not be more happily situated than in Friend Hopper's +family. They treat me the same as a daughter and a sister." + +The _Anti-Slavery Standard_ was a new enterprise; its editorship was +offered to Mr. and Mrs. Childs jointly; Col. Higginson says that Mr. +Child declined because of ill health; another authority, that he was +still infatuated with his Beet Sugar, of which Mrs. Child had had more +than enough; it appears from her letter that neither of them dreamed +of abandoning the Sugar industry; if the enterprise was folly, they +were happily united in the folly. + +However, of the two, the _Anti-Slavery Standard_ was the more +successful enterprise, and at the end of the two years, Mr. Child +closed out his Beet Sugar business and joined Mrs. Child in editing +the paper. Mrs. Child edited the _Standard_ eight years, six of which +were in conjunction with Mr. Child. They were successful editors; they +gave the _Standard_ a high literary character, and made it acceptable +to people of taste and culture who, whatever their sympathy with +anti-slavery, were often repelled by the unpolished manners of Mr. +Garrison's paper, _The Liberator_. + +Something of her life outside the _Standard_ office, something of the +things she saw and heard and enjoyed, during these eight years, can be +gathered from her occasional letters to the Boston _Courier_. They are +interesting still; they will always be of interest to one who cares to +know old New York, as it was sixty years ago, or from 1840 onward. +That they were appreciated then is evident from the fact that, +collected and published in two volumes in 1844, eleven editions were +called for during the next eight years. Col. Higginson considers these +eight years in New York the most interesting and satisfactory of Mrs. +Child's life. + +Though we have room for few incidents of this period, there is one +too charming to be omitted. A friend went to a flower merchant on +Broadway to buy a bunch of violets for Mrs. Child's birthday. +Incidentally, the lady mentioned Mrs. Child; she may have ordered the +flowers sent to her house. When the lady came to pay for them, the +florist said, "I cannot take pay for flowers intended for her. She is +a stranger to me, but she has given my wife and children so many +flowers in her writings, that I will never take money of her." Another +pretty incident is this: an unknown friend or admirer always sent Mrs. +Child the earliest wild flowers of spring and the latest in autumn. + +I have said that one of her passions was music, which happily she now +has opportunities to gratify. "As for amusements," she says, "music is +the only thing that excites me.... I have a chronic insanity with +regard to music. It is the only Pegasus which now carries me far up +into the blue. Thank God for this blessing of mine." I should be glad +if I had room for her account of an evening under the weird spell of +Ole Bull. Her moral sense was keener than her aesthetic, but her +aesthetic sense was for keener than that of the average mortal. +Sometimes she felt, as Paul would have said, "in a strait betwixt +two"; in 1847 she writes Mr. Francis G. Shaw: "I am now wholly in the +dispensation of art, and therefore theologians and reformers jar upon +me." Reformer as she was and will be remembered, she was easily drawn +into the dispensation of art; and nature was always with her, so much +so that Col. Higginson says, "She always seemed to be talking +radicalism in a greenhouse." + +Mr. and Mrs. Child retired from the _Standard_ in 1849. Her next +letters are dated from Newton, Mass. Her father was living upon a +small place--a house and garden--in the neighboring town of Wayland, +beautifully situated, facing Sudbury Hill, with the broad expanse of +the river meadows between. Thither Mrs. Child went to take care of him +from 1852 to 1856, when he died, leaving the charming little home to +her. There are many traditions of her mode of life in Wayland, but her +own account is the best: "In 1852, we made our humble home in Wayland, +Mass., where we spent twenty-two pleasant years, entirely alone, +without any domestic, mutually serving each other and depending upon +each other for intellectual companionship." If the memory of Wayland +people is correct, Mr. Child was not with her much during the four +years that her father lived. Her father was old and feeble and Mr. +Child had not the serene patience of his wife. Life ran more easily +when Mr. Child was away. Whatever other period in the life of Mrs. +Child may have been the most satisfactory, this must have been the +most trying. + +Under date of March 23, 1856, happily the last year of this sort of +widowhood, she writes: "This winter has been the loneliest of my life. +If you knew my situation you would pronounce it unendurable. I should +have thought so myself if I had had a foreshadowing of it a few years +ago. But the human mind can get acclimated to anything. What with +constant occupation and a happy consciousness of sustaining and +cheering my poor old father in his descent to the grave, I am almost +always in a state of serene contentment. In summer, my once +extravagant love of beauty satisfies itself in watching the birds, the +insects, and the flowers in my little patch of a garden." She has no +room for her vases, engravings, and other pretty things; she keeps +them in a chest, and she says, "when birds and flowers are gone, I +sometimes take them out as a child does its playthings, and sit down +in the sunshine with them, dreaming over them." + +We need not think of her spending much time dreaming over her little +hoard of artistic treasures. Her real business in this world is +writing the history of all religions, or "The Progress of Religious +Ideas in Successive Ages." It was a work begun in New York, as early +as 1848, finished in Wayland in 1855, published in three large octavo +volumes and, whatever its merits or success, was the greatest literary +labor of her life. + +Under date of July 14, 1848, she writes to Dr. Francis: "My book gets +slowly on.... I am going to tell the plain, unvarnished truth, as +clearly as I can understand it, and let Christians and Infidels, +Orthodox and Unitarians, Catholics, Protestants, and Swedenborgians +growl as they like. They will growl if they notice it at all: for each +will want his own theory favored, and the only thing I have +conscientiously aimed at is not to favor any theory at all." She may +have failed in scientific method; but here is a scientific spirit. "In +her religious speculations," says Whittier, "Mrs. Child moved in the +very van." In Wayland, she considered herself a parishioner of Dr. +Edmund H. Sears, whom she calls, "our minister," but she was +somewhat in advance of Dr. Sears. Her opinions were much nearer akin +to those of Theodore Parker. Only a Unitarian of that type could +perhaps at this early period have conceived the history of religion as +an evolution of one and the same spiritual element "through successive +ages." + +She had not much time to dream over her chest of artistic treasures +when the assault of Preston S. Brooks upon Senator Sumner called her +to battle of such force and point that Dr. William H. Furness said, it +was worth having Sumner's head broken. + +When death released her from the care of her father, she took +"Bleeding Kansas" under her charge. She writes letters to the +newspapers; she sits up till eleven o'clock, "stitching as fast as my +fingers could go," making garments for the Kansas immigrants; she +"stirs up the Wayland women to make garments for Kansas"; she sends +off Mr. Child to make speeches for Kansas; and then she writes him in +this manner: "How melancholy I felt when you went off in the morning +darkness. It seemed as if everything about me was tumbling down; as if +I were never to have a nest and a mate any more." Surely the rest of +this letter was not written for us to read: "Good, kind, magnanimous +soul, how I love you. How I long to say over the old prayer again +every night. It almost made me cry to see how carefully you had +arranged everything for my comfort before you went; so much kindling +stuff split up and the bricks piled up to protect my flowers." Here is +love in a cottage. This life is not all prosaic. + +Old anti-slavery friends came to see her and among them Charles +Sumner, in 1857, spent a couple of hours with her, and left his +photograph; she met Henry Wilson at the anti-slavery fair and talked +with him an "hour or so." Whittier says, "Men like Charles Sumner, +Henry Wilson, Salmon P. Chase, and Governor Andrew availed themselves +of her foresight and sound judgment of men and measures." + +When John Brown was wounded and taken prisoner at Harper's Ferry, +nothing was more in character for Mrs. Child than to offer her +services as his nurse. She wrote him under cover of a letter to Gov. +Wise, of Virginia. The arrival of Mrs. Brown, made Mrs. Child's +attendance unnecessary, but the incident led to a lively +correspondence between Mrs. Child and Gov. Wise, in which Mrs. +Senator Mason, of Virginia, joined. Neither of her distinguished +correspondents possessed the literary skill of Mrs. Child. The entire +correspondence was collected in a pamphlet of which 300,000 copies +were sold. On a visit to Whittier at Amesbury, a delegation from a +Republican political meeting called upon her, saying they wanted to +see the woman who "poured hot shot into Gov. Wise." + +In 1863, after saying that she is "childish enough to talk to the +picture of a baby that is being washed," she writes her friend, Mrs. +Shaw, "But you must not suppose that I live for amusement. On the +contrary I work like a beaver the whole time. Just now I am making a +hood for a poor neighbor; last week I was making flannels for the +hospital; odd minutes are filled up ravelling lint; every string that +I can get sight of I pull for poor Sambo. I write to the _Tribune_ +about him; I write to the _Transcript_ about him; I write to private +individuals about him; and I write to the President and members of +Congress about him; I write to Western Virginia and Missouri about +him; and I get the articles published too. This shows what progress +the cause of freedom is making." Not everything went to her mind +however. If we think there has been a falling from grace in the public +life of our generation, it may do us good to read what she says in +1863: "This war has furnished many instances of individual nobility, +but our national record is mean." + +In 1864, she published "Looking Toward Sunset," a book designed to +"present old people with something wholly cheerful." The entire +edition was exhausted during the holiday season; 4,000 copies were +sold and more called for. All her profits on the book, she devoted to +the freedmen, sending $400 as a first instalment. Not only that, but +she prepared a volume called "The Freedman's Book," which she printed +at an expense of $600, and distributed among the freedmen 1200 copies +at her own cost. She once sent Wendell Phillips a check of $100 for +the freedmen, and when he protested that it was more than she could +afford, she consented to "think it over." The next day, she made her +contribution $200. She contributed $20 a year to the American +Missionary Association toward the support of a teacher for the +freedmen, and $50 a year to the Anti-Slavery Society. A lady wished, +through Mr. Phillips, to give Mrs. Child several thousand dollars for +her comfort. Mrs. Child declined the favor, but was persuaded to +accept it, and then scrupulously gave away the entire income in +charity. It is evident she might have made herself very comfortable, +if it had not given her so much more pleasure to make someone else +comfortable. + +Her dress, as neat and clean as that of a Quakeress, was quite as +plain and far from the latest style. A stranger meeting her in a stage +coach mistook her for a servant until she began to talk. "Who is that +woman who dresses like a peasant, and speaks like a scholar?" he asked +on leaving the coach. Naturally, it was thought Mrs. Child did not +know how to dress, or, more likely, did not care for pretty things. +"You accuse me," she writes to Miss Lucy Osgood, "you accuse me of +being indifferent to externals, whereas the common charge is that I +think too much of beauty, and say too much about it. I myself think it +one of my greatest weaknesses. A handsome man, woman or child can +always make a pack-horse of me. My next neighbor's little boy has me +completely under his thumb, merely by virtue of his beautiful eyes and +sweet voice." There was one before her of whom it was said, "He +denied himself, and took up his cross." It was also said of him, +"Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor." He never had a +truer disciple than Mrs. Child. + +Not that she ever talked of "crosses." "But why use the word +sacrifice?" she asks. "I never was conscious of any sacrifice." What +she gained in moral discipline or a new life, she says, was always +worth more than the cost. She used an envelope twice, Wendell Phillips +says; she never used a whole sheet of paper when half of one would do; +she outdid poverty in her economies, and then gave money as if she had +thousands. "I seldom have a passing wish for enlarging my income +except for the sake of doing more for others. My wants are very few +and simple." + +In 1867, Mrs. Child published "A Romance of the Republic," a pathetic +story, but fascinating, and admirably written; in 1878, appeared a +book of choice selections, entitled, "Aspirations of the World"; and +in 1871, a volume of short biographies, entitled "Good Wives," and +dedicated, to Mr. Child: "To my husband, this book is affectionately +inscribed, by one who, through every vicissitude, has found in his +kindness and worth, her purest happiness and most constant incentive +to duty." + +Mr. Child died in 1874 at the age of eighty, and Mrs. Child followed +him in 1880, at the age of seventy-eight. After her death, a small +volume of her letters was published, of which the reader will wish +there were more. Less than a month before her death, she wrote to a +friend a list of benevolent enterprises she has in mind and says, "Oh, +it is such a luxury to be able to give without being afraid. I try not +to be Quixotic, but I want to rain down blessings on all the world, in +token of thankfulness for the blessings that have been rained down +upon me." + +It is too late to make amends for omissions in this paper, but it +would be unjust to Mrs. Child to forget her life-long devotion to the +interests of her own sex. In 1832, a year before her "Appeal in behalf +of that class of Americans called Africans,"--eleven years before the +appearance of Margaret Fuller's "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," +Mrs. Child published "A History of the Condition of Women in all ages +and nations," showing her disposition to begin every inquiry with a +survey of the facts, and also that the "woman question" was the first +to awaken her interest. Her greatest contribution to the advancement +of women was herself; that is, her own achievements. To the same +purpose were her biographies of famous women: "Memoirs of Mme. de +Stael and Mme. Roland" in 1847, and sketches of "Good Wives" in 1871. +Whittier says, she always believed in woman's right to the ballot, as +certainly he did, calling it "the greatest social reform of the age." +In one letter to Senator Sumner, she directly argues the question: "I +reduce the argument," she says, "to very simple elements. I pay taxes +for property of my own earning, and I do not believe in 'taxation +without representation.'" Again: "I am a human being and every human +being has a right to a voice in the laws which claim authority to tax +him, to imprison him, or to _hang_ him." + +A light humor illuminates this argument. Humor was one of her saving +qualities which, as Whittier says, "kept her philanthropy free from +any taint of fanaticism." It contributed greatly to her cheerfulness. +Of her fame, she says playfully: "In a literary point of view I know I +have only a local reputation, done in water colors." + +Could anything have been better said than this of the New England +April or even May: "What a misnomer in our climate to call this +season Spring, very much like calling Calvinism religion." Nothing +could have been keener than certain points scored in her reply to Mrs. +Senator Mason. Mrs. Mason, remembering with approving conscience her +own ministries in the slave cabins caring for poor mothers with young +babies, asks Mrs. Child, in triumph, if she goes among the poor to +render such services. Mrs. Child replies that she has never known +mothers under such circumstances to be neglected, "and here at the +North," said she, "after we have helped the mothers, we do not sell +the babies." After Gen. Grant's election to the Presidency, a +procession with a band from Boston, marched to her house and gave her +a serenade. She says that she joined in the hurrahs "like the +strong-minded woman that I am. The fact is, I forgot half the time +whether I belonged to the stronger or weaker sex." Whether she +belonged to the stronger or weaker sex, is still something of a +problem. Sensible men would be willing to receive her, should women +ever refuse to acknowledge her. + +Wendell Phillips paid her an appreciative tribute, at her funeral. +"There were," he said, "all the charms and graceful elements which we +call feminine, united with a masculine grasp and vigor; sound +judgment and great breadth; large common sense and capacity for +everyday usefulness, endurance, foresight, strength, and skill." The +address is given in full in the volume of "Letters." There is also a +fine poem by Whittier for the same occasion: + + "Than thine was never turned a fonder heart + To nature and to art; + + Yet loving beauty, thou couldst pass it by, + And for the poor deny + Thyself...." + +The volume contains a poetical tribute of an earlier date, by Eliza +Scudder, of which Mrs. Child said, "I never was so touched and pleased +by any tribute in my life. I cried over the verses and I smiled over +them." I will close this paper with Miss Scudder's last stanza: + + "So apt to know, so wise to guide, + So tender to redress,-- + O, friend with whom such charms abide, + How can I love thee less?" + + + + +IV + +DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX + + +[Illustration: DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX] + +The career of Dorothy Dix is a romance of philanthropy which the world +can ill afford to forget. It has been said of her, and it is still +said, that she was "the most useful and distinguished woman America +has yet produced." It is the opinion of Mr. Tiffany, her biographer, +that as the founder of institutions of mercy, she "has simply no peer +in the annals of Protestantism." To find her parallel one must go to +the calendar of the Catholic saints,--St. Theresa, of Spain, or Santa +Chiara, of Assisi. "Why then," he asks, do the "majority of the +present generation know little or nothing of so remarkable a story!" +Till his biography appeared, it might have been answered that the +story had never been told; now, we should have to say that, with a +thousand demands upon our time, it has not been read. + +Dorothea Lynde Dix--born February 11, 1802--was the daughter of Joseph +Dix and granddaughter of the more eminent Dr. Elijah Dix, of +Worcester, later of Boston, Mass. Dr. Dix was born in Watertown, +Mass., in 1747. At the age of seventeen, he became the office boy of +Dr. John Green, an eminent physician in Worcester, Mass., and later, a +student of medicine. After five years, in 1770, he began to practice +as physician and surgeon in Worcester where he formed a partnership +with Dr. Sylvester Gardner. It must have been a favorable time for +young doctors since in 1771, a year after he began to practice, he +married Dorothy Lynde, of Charlestown, Mass., for whom her little +granddaughter was named. Mrs. Dix seems to have been a woman of great +decision of character, and no less precision of thought and action, +two traits which reappeared conspicuously in our great philanthropist. + +Certain qualities of Dr. Dix are also said to have reappeared in his +granddaughter. He was self-reliant, aggressive, uncompromising, +public-spirited, and sturdily honest. To his enterprise, Worcester +owed its first shade trees, planted by him, when shade trees were +considered great folly, and also the Boston and Worcester turnpike, +when mud roads were thought to be divinely appointed thoroughfares. +His integrity is shown by an incident which also throws light upon +the conditions of a troubled period. His partner, Dr. Gardner, made +the grave mistake of taking the royal side in the controversies that +preceded the Revolution, and Worcester became as hot for him as +Richmond or Charleston was for a Union man in 1861. Dr. Gardner +disappeared, leaving his effects behind him. After the war, Dr. Dix +made a voyage to England and honorably settled accounts with his +former partner. + +It was like the enterprising Dr. Dix that he turned this creditable +act to his financial advantage. On his return to America he brought +with him a stock of medical books, surgical instruments, and chemical +apparatus, and became a dealer in physician's supplies, while +continuing the practice of his profession. His business prospering, in +1795 he removed to Boston for a larger field, where he opened a drug +store near Faneuil Hall and established chemical works in South +Boston. Successful as physician, druggist and manufacturer, he soon +had money to invest. Maine, with its timber lands, was the Eldorado of +that era, and Dr. Dix bought thousands of acres in its wilderness, +where Dixfield in the west, and Dixmont in the east, townships once +owned by him, preserve his name and memory. + +The house of Dr. Dix in Boston, called the "Dix Mansion," was on +Washington St., corner of Dix Place, then Orange Court. It had a large +garden behind it, where originated the Dix pear, once a favorite. Dr. +Dix died in 1809, when Dorothea was seven years old. Young as she was, +he was among the most vivid of her childhood memories and by far the +pleasantest. She seems to have been a favorite with him and it was his +delight to take her in his chaise on his rounds, talking playfully +with her and listening to her childish prattle. + +Joseph Dix, the father of Dorothea, is a vague and shadowy memory. He +seems to have had little of his father's energy or good sense. +Unstable in many of his ways, he lived a migratory life, "at various +spots in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, as well as in Worcester +and Boston, Mass." When Dorothea was born, he was living at Hampden, +Maine, adjoining his father's Dixmont properties, presumably as his +father's land agent. He probably tired of this occupation because it +interfered with his business. His business seems to have been +religion. He was a prolific author of religious literature. He was a +philanthropist after his kind, giving his time without stint to the +writing of religious tracts, and spending his money in publishing +them, with little benefit to the world and much detriment to his +family. In the stitching and pasting of these tracts, the whole +household were required to assist and it was against this irksome +taskwork that Dorothea, at the age of twelve, rebelled, running away +from Worcester, where the family then lived, and finding a refuge with +her grandmother in Boston. Dorothea afterwards educated her two +brothers, one of whom became a sea captain and the other a Boston +merchant. + +Dorothea Dix was created by her Maker, but she was given in a plastic +state, first into the hands of inexorable Madam Dix, and next into +those of the all-pitying Dr. Channing. Madam Dix is described as a +fine specimen of the dignified, precise, conscientious New England +gentlewoman of her generation. Industry, economy, and above all +thoroughness were the chief articles of her religion, and she +instilled these virtues into the mind of her granddaughter by the most +vigorous discipline. A week of solitary confinement was among the +penalties inflicted upon the hapless child who had failed to reach +the standard of duty prescribed for her. The standard, with Madam Dix, +did not differ from perfection discernibly. Mr. Tiffany quotes a lady +who in her girlhood, as a special reward of merit, was allowed to make +an entire shirt under the supervision of Madam Dix. It was an +experience never forgotten. No stitch in the entire garment could be +allowed to differ perceptibly from every other, but the lady spoke of +the ordeal with enthusiastic gratitude, declaring that it had been a +life-long benefit to her to have been compelled to do one piece of +work thoroughly well. + +"I never knew childhood," Miss Dix said pitifully in after life. +Certainly with this exacting grandmother, there can be no childhood as +it is understood to-day; but if Dorothea submits to the rigorous +discipline enforced upon her, she will make a woman of iron fibre who +will flinch from no hardship and will leave no task undone. Happily +she did submit to it. The alternative would have been to return to her +half-vagabond father. Too much discipline or too little was her +destiny. She preferred to take the medicine in excess, and in the end +was grateful for it. + +Dorothea was so apt a pupil and so ambitious that, at the age of +fourteen, she returned to Worcester and opened a school for small +children, prudently lengthening the skirts and sleeves of her dress to +give dignity and impressiveness to her appearance. Half a century +later one of these pupils vividly recalled the child-teacher, tall of +her age, easily blushing, at once beautiful and imposing in manner, +but inexorably strict in discipline. + +Dorothea spent the next four years in Boston in preparation for a more +ambitious undertaking and, in 1821 at the age of nineteen, she opened +a day school in Boston in a small house belonging to Madam Dix. The +school prospered and gradually expanded into a day and boarding +school, for which the Dix mansion, whither the school was removed, +furnished convenient space. Madam Dix, enfeebled by age and +infirmities, laid down the scepter she had wielded, and the premises +passed virtually into the hands of Dorothea. Thither came pupils from +"the most prominent families in Boston" and other Massachusetts towns, +and even from beyond the limits of the State. There also she brought +her brothers to be educated under her care and started upon a business +career. + +Hardly had she started her school for the rich and fortunate before, +anticipating her vocation as a philanthropist, she opened another for +the poor and destitute. A letter is preserved in which she pleadingly +asks the conscientious but perhaps stony Madam Dix for the loft over +the stable for this purpose. "My dear grandmother," she begins, "Had I +the saint-like eloquence of our minister, I would employ it in +explaining all the motives, and dwelling on the good, the good to the +poor, the miserable, the idle, the ignorant, which would follow your +giving me permission to use the barn chamber for a school-room for +charitable and religious purposes." + +The minister with saint-like eloquence was Dr. Channing. The letter is +valuable as showing the source of the flame that had fired her +philanthropic soul. For the finer culture of the heart she had passed +from the hands of Madam Dix to those of Dr. Channing. The request for +the room was granted and Mr. Tiffany tells us that "The little +barn-school proved the nucleus out of which years later was developed +the beneficent work of the Warren Street Chapel, from which as a +centre spread far and wide a new ideal of dealing with childhood. +There first was interest excited in the mind of Rev. Charles Barnard, +a man of positive spiritual genius in charming and uplifting the +children of the poor and debased." + +Letters from Miss Dix at this period show that she had a sensitive +nature, easily wrought upon, now inflamed to action and now melted to +tears. "You say that I weep easily. I was early taught to sorrow, to +shed tears, and now, when sudden joy lights up or unexpected sorrow +strikes my heart, I find it difficult to repress the full and swelling +tide of feeling." She is reading a book of poems and weeping over +it,--"paying my watery tribute to the genius" of the poet. She longs +for similar talents that she "might revel in the luxury of those +mental visions that must hourly entrance a spirit that partakes less +of earth than heaven." It will be remembered that her father was +religious even to folly. Here was his child, only by judicious +training, the stream was turned into channels of wise beneficence. + +With the management of two schools, the supervision of the household, +the care of two younger brothers, and ministries to her grandmother +already advanced in years, Miss Dix was sufficiently occupied, but she +found time to prepare a text-book upon "Common Things," gathering the +material as she wrote. This, her first attempt at book-making, issued +in 1824, was kept in print forty-five years, and went to its sixtieth +edition in 1869. It was followed the next year by "Hymns for Children" +selected and altered, and by a book of devotions entitled, "Evening +Hours." Lengthening the day at both ends, "rising before the sun and +going to bed after midnight," working while others slept, gave time +for these extra tasks. Nature exacted her usual penalties. In the +third year of this arduous labor, threatenings of lung troubles +appeared which, however, she defied even when "in conducting her +classes she had to stand with one hand on a desk for support, and the +other pressed hard to her side as though to repress a hard pain." +Meanwhile she wrote a bosom friend: "There is in our nature a +disposition to indulgence, a secret desire to escape from labor, which +unless hourly combated will overcome the best faculties of our minds +and paralyse our most useful powers.... I have often entertained a +dread lest I should fall a victim to my besieger, and that fear has +saved me thus far." + +Besides the terror of lapsing into self-indulgence, she was +stimulated to activity by the care of her brothers, for one of whom +she seems to have felt special anxiety: "Oh, Annie," she writes, "if +that child is good, I care not how humble his pathway in life. It is +for him my soul is filled with bitterness when sickness wastes me; it +is because of him I dread to die." Was there no one to advise her that +the best care of her brother would be to care for herself, and that if +she would do more, she must first do less! Where was Dr. Channing who, +more than any other, was responsible for her intemperate zeal! It +appears that Dr. Channing, "not without solicitude," as he writes her, +was watching over his eager disciple. "Your infirm health," he says, +"seems to darken your prospect of usefulness. But I believe your +constitution will yet be built up, if you will give it a fair chance. +You must learn to give up your plans of usefulness as much as those of +gratification, to the will of God." + +Miss Dix abandoned her school apparently in 1827, after six years of +service and at the age of twenty-five. The following spring and summer +she spent as a governess in the family of Dr. Channing at his summer +home in Rhode Island. Her duties were light and she lived much in the +open air, devoting her leisure to botany in which she was already "no +mean proficient," and to "the marine life of the beautiful region." +Very pretty letters were exchanged between her and Dr. Channing at the +termination of the engagement. "We will hear no more of thanks," he +wrote her, "but your affection for us and our little ones we will +treasure among our most precious blessings." He invites her to renew +the relations another year, and so she did. + +To avoid the rigors of a New England climate, Miss Dix, for some +years, spent her winters, now in Philadelphia, now in Alexandria, Va., +keeping herself busy with reading "of a very multifarious +kind,--poetry, science, biography, and travels,--besides eking out the +scanty means she had laid by from her teaching by writing stories and +compiling floral albums and books of devotion." In 1827, she published +a volume of "Ten Short Stories for Children" which went to a second +edition in 1832; in 1828, "Meditations for Private Hours," which went +through several editions; in 1829, two little books, "The Garland of +Flora," and "The Pearl, a Christmas Gift." Occasional brief +engagements in teaching are also recorded in this period. + +The winter of 1830, she spent with the Channings on the Island of St. +Croix, in the West Indies, in her old capacity as governess. A +daughter of Dr. Channing gives an interesting account of the +preceptress of whom, first and last, she had seen so much. She +describes Miss Dix as tall and dignified, very shy in manner, strict +and inflexible in discipline. "From her iron will, it was hopeless to +appeal. I think she was a very accomplished teacher, active and +diligent herself, very fond of natural history and botany. She enjoyed +long rambles, always calling our attention to what was interesting in +the world around us. I hear that some of her pupils speak of her as +irascible. I have no such remembrance. Fixed as fate we considered +her." + +Miss Dix returned from the West Indies in the spring, very much +improved in health, and in the autumn, she reopened her school in the +Dix Mansion, with the same high ideals as before and with such +improved methods as experience had suggested. Pupils came to her again +as of old and she soon had as many attendants as her space permitted. +A feature of the school was a letter-box through which passed a daily +mail between teacher and pupils and "large bundles of child-letters of +this period" are still extant, preserved by Miss Dix with scrupulous +care to the end of life. It was a bright child who wrote as follows: +"I thought I was doing well until I read your letter, but when you +said that you were rousing to greater energy, all my satisfaction +vanished. For if you are not satisfied in some measure with yourself +and are going to do more than you have done, I don't know what I shall +do. You do not go to rest until midnight and then you rise very +early." The physician had administered too strong a tonic for the +little patient's health. + +A lady who, at the age of sixteen, attended this school in 1833, +writes of her eminent teacher as follows: "She fascinated me from the +first, as she had done many of my class before me. Next to my mother, +I thought her the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was in the +prime of her years, tall and of dignified carriage, head finely shaped +and set, with an abundance of soft, wavy, brown hair." The school +continued in the full tide of success for five years, during which +time, by hard labor and close economies, Miss Dix had saved enough to +secure her "the independence of a modest competence." This seems a +great achievement, but if one spends nothing for superfluities and +does most of his labor himself, he can lay by his income, much or +little. The appointments of the school are said to have been very +simple, a long table serving as a desk for study, when it was not in +use for dinner. Only one assistant is mentioned, who gave instruction +in French and, perhaps, elementary Latin. Surely Miss Dix could handle +the rest herself. The merit of the school was not in its elaborate +appointments, but in the personal supervision of its accomplished +mistress. So the miracle was wrought and at the age of thirty-three, +Miss Dix had achieved a modest competence. + +The undertaking had cost her her health once before, and now it cost +her her health again. The old symptoms, a troublesome cough, pain in +the side, and slight hemorrhages, returned and, having dragged her +frail body through the winter of 1836, Miss Dix reluctantly closed her +school in the spring and, in obedience to her physician, went to +Europe for rest, with the intention of spending the summer in England, +the autumn in France, and the winter in Italy. Prostrated by the +voyage, she was carried to a hotel in Liverpool where she was put to +bed with the forlorn prospect of being confined to her solitary room +for an indefinite period of convalescence. But again Dr. Channing +befriended her. From him she had received letters of introduction, one +of which brought to her side Mr. William Rathbone, a wealthy merchant +of Liverpool and a prominent English Unitarian. Mr. and Mrs. Rathbone +insisted upon taking her to their home, a charming residence a few +miles out of the city. Thither she consented to go for a visit of a +few weeks, and there she remained, as an honored guest tenderly cared +for, for eighteen months. "To the end of her days," says her +biographer, "this period of eighteen months stood out in her memory as +the jubilee of her life, the sunniest, the most restful, and the +tenderest to her affections of her whole earthly experience." She +wrote a Boston friend, "You must imagine me surrounded by every +comfort, sustained by every tenderness that can cheer, blest in the +continual kindness of the family in which Providence has placed me,--I +with no claim but those of a common nature." And again, "So completely +am I adopted into the circle of loving spirits that I sometimes +forget I really am not to consider the bonds transient in their +binding." + +She very much needed these friends and their tender care. Nine months +after her arrival, we hear of occasional hemorrhages from which she +has been exempt for ten days, the pain in her side less acute, and her +physician has given her permission to walk about her room. One would +think that her career was practically ended, but, strange to say, the +career which was to make her famous had not yet begun. From this date, +her convalescence proceeded steadily, and she was able to enjoy much +in the delightful home and refined social circle in which she found +herself. "Your remark," she writes a friend, "that I probably enjoy +more now in social intercourse than I have ever before done is quite +true. Certainly if I do not improve, it will be through wilful +self-neglect." Apparently, she was having a glimpse of a less prosaic +existence than the grinding routine of a boarding school. Madam Dix +died at the age of ninety-one, leaving her granddaughter, still in +Europe, a substantial legacy, which sensibly increased her limited +resources and, when the time came for action, left her free to carry +out her great schemes of benevolence without hampering personal +anxieties. It ought to preserve the memory of Madam Dix that she +endowed a great philanthropist. + +In the autumn of 1837, Miss Dix returned to America, and avoiding the +New England climate, spent the winter in Washington, D. C., and its +neighborhood. Apparently, it was not a wholly happy winter, chiefly +because of her vain and tender longings for the paradise she had left +across the sea. The Washington of 1837 seemed raw to her after the +cultivated English home she had discovered. "I was not conscious," she +writes a friend, "that so great a trial was to meet my return from +England till the whole force of the contrast was laid before me.... I +may be too craving of that rich gift, the power of sharing with other +minds. I have drunk deeply, long, and Oh, how blissfully, at this +fountain in a foreign clime. Hearts met hearts, minds joined with +minds, and what were the secondary trials of pain to the enfeebled +body when daily was administered the soul's medicine and food." +Surely, that English experience was one upon which not every invalid +from these shores could count, but when, a few years later, Miss Dix +returned to England as a kind of angel of mercy, giving back much +more than she had ever received, the Rathbone family must have been +glad that they had befriended her in her obscurity and her need. + +It was in 1841 at the age of thirty-nine that the second chapter in +the life of Miss Dix began. Note that she had as little thought that +she was beginning a great career as any one of us that he will date +all his future from something he has done or experienced to-day. It +happened that Dr. J. T. G. Nichols, so long the beloved pastor of the +Unitarian parish in Saco, Maine, was then a student of Divinity at +Cambridge. He had engaged to assist in a Sunday School in the East +Cambridge jail, and all the women, twenty in number, had been assigned +to him. The experience of one session with his class was enough to +convince him that a young man was very much out of place in that +position and that a woman, sensible if possible, but a woman +certainly, was necessary. His mother advised him to consult Miss Dix. +Not that her health would permit her to take the class, but she could +advise. On hearing Mr. Nichols' statement, Miss Dix deliberated a +moment and then said, "I will take the class myself." Mr. Nichols +protested that this was not to be thought of, in the condition of her +health, but we have heard of her iron will: "Fixed as fate we +considered her," said one of her pupils; and she answered Mr. Nichols, +"I shall be there next Sunday." + +This was the beginning. "After the school was over," says Dr. Nichols, +"Miss Dix went into the jail and found among the prisoners a few +insane persons with whom she talked. She noticed that there was no +stove in their rooms and no means of proper warmth." The date was the +twenty-eighth of March and the climate was New England, from which +Miss Dix had so often had to flee. "The jailer said that a fire for +them was not needed, and would be unsafe. Her repeated solicitations +were without success." The jailer must have thought he was dealing +with a woman, not with destiny. "At that time the court was in session +at East Cambridge, and she caused the case to be brought before it. +Her request was granted. The cold rooms were warmed. Thus was her +great work commenced." + +Such is Dr. Nichols' brief statement, but the course of events did not +run so smoothly as we are led to suppose. The case had to be fought +through the newspapers as well as the court, and here Miss Dix showed +the generalship which she exhibited on many another hard fought +field. She never went into battle single-handed. She always managed to +have at her side the best gunners when the real battle began. In the +East Cambridge skirmish, she had Rev. Robert C. Waterston, Dr. Samuel +G. Howe, and Charles Sumner. Dr. Howe visited the jail and wrote an +account for the Boston _Advertiser_. When this statement was disputed, +as it was, Mr. Sumner, who had accompanied Dr. Howe, confirmed his +account and added details of his own. He said that the inmates "were +cramped together in rooms poorly ventilated and noisome with filth;" +that "in two cages or pens constructed of plank, within the four stone +walls of the same room" were confined, and had been for months, a +raving maniac and an interesting young woman whose mind was so +slightly obscured that it seemed any moment as if the cloud would pass +away; that "the whole prison echoed with the blasphemies of the poor +old woman, while her young and gentle fellow in suffering seemed to +shrink from her words as from blows;" that the situation was hardly +less horrid than that of "tying the living to the dead." + +Where was Miss Dix during this controversy? Why, she was preparing to +investigate every jail and almshouse in the State of Massachusetts. +If this was the way the insane were treated in the city of Cambridge, +in a community distinguished for enlightenment and humanity, what +might not be going on in more backward and less favored localities? +Note-book in hand, going from city to city and from town to town, Miss +Dix devoted the two following years to answering this question +exhaustively. + +Having gathered her facts, she presented them to the Legislature in a +Memorial of thirty-two octavo pages, the first of a series of +seventeen statements and appeals presented to the legislatures of +different states, as far west as Illinois and as far south as +Louisiana. "I shall be obliged," she said, "to speak with great +plainness and to reveal many things revolting to the taste, and from +which my woman's nature shrinks with peculiar sensitiveness.... I +proceed, gentlemen, briefly to call your attention to the present +state of insane persons within this Commonwealth, in cages, closets, +cellars, stalls, pens, chained, naked, beaten with rods and lashed +into obedience.... I give a few illustrations but description fades +before reality." If we could dismiss the subject by saying she reports +instance after instance where men and women were confined in the +almshouses in Massachusetts in such conditions of inhumanity and +neglect as no intelligent farmer would tolerate for his swine, we +could avoid some unpleasant details; but the statement would be +ineffective because it would seem incredible. At the almshouse in +Danvers, confined in a remote, low, outbuilding, she found a young +woman, once respectable, industrious and worthy, whose mind had been +deranged by disappointments and trials. "There she stood," says Miss +Dix, "clinging to or beating upon the bars of her caged apartment, the +contracted size of which afforded space only for increasing +accumulations of filth,--a foul spectacle; there she stood, with naked +arms, dishevelled hair, the unwashed frame invested with fragments of +unclean garments, the air so extremely offensive, though ventilation +was afforded on all sides but one, that it was not possible to remain +beyond a few moments without retreating for recovery to the outward +air. Irritation of body, produced by utter filth and exposure, incited +her to the horrid process of tearing off her skin by inches; her neck +and person were thus disfigured to hideousness.... And who protects +her," Miss Dix suggestively asks, "who protects her,--that worse than +Pariah outcast,--from other wrongs and blacker outrages!" This +question had more meaning for Miss Dix than we might suppose, for at +the almshouse in Worcester she had found an insane Madonna and her +babe: father unknown. + +Fair and beautiful Newton finds a place in this chapter of dishonor, +with a woman chained, nearly nude, and filthy beyond measure: "Sick, +horror-struck, and almost incapable of retreating, I gained the +outward air." A case in Groton attained infamous celebrity, not +because the shame was without parallel but because the overseers of +the poor tried to discredit the statements of Miss Dix. The fact was +that she had understated the case. Dr. Bell of the McLean Asylum, +confirmed her report and added details. In an outbuilding at the +almshouse, a young man, slightly deranged but entirely inoffensive, +was confined by a heavy iron collar to which was attached a chain six +feet in length, the limit of his possible movements. His hands were +fastened together by heavy clavises secured by iron bolts. There was +no window in his dungeon, but for ventilation there was an opening, +half the size of a sash, closed in cold weather by a board shutter. +From this cell, he had been taken to the McLean Asylum, where his +irons had been knocked off, his swollen limbs chafed gently, and +finding himself comfortable, he exclaimed, "My good man, I must kiss +you." He showed no violence, ate at the common table, slept in the +common bedroom, and seemed in a fair way to recovery when, to save the +expense of three dollars a week for his board and care, the thrifty +Groton officials took him away. He could be boarded at the almshouse +for nothing, and, chained in an outbuilding, he would not require any +care. + +We can follow Miss Dix in her career through a dozen states of this +Union, into the British Provinces, to Scotland and England, thence +across to the Continent, without repeating these details, if we bear +in mind that such as we have seen was the condition of the pauper +insane at that period. Her memorial was presented by Dr. S. G. Howe, +then happily a member of the Legislature, and a bill was passed, not +without opposition, but finally passed, enlarging the asylum at +Worcester to accommodate two hundred additional patients. The +provision was inadequate, but a reform of old abuses had begun. It was +her first victory. + +Grateful for what had been accomplished in Massachusetts, Miss Dix +turned to Rhode Island, whose borders she had often approached and +sometimes crossed in her investigations in the adjoining state. Rhode +Island was perhaps not less civilized than her neighbor, but Rhode +Island furnished the prize case of horrors in the mistreatment of +insanity, a case which in a letter introducing the discoverer, Mr. +Thomas G. Hazard said went beyond anything he supposed to exist in the +civilized world. The case was this: Abraham Simmons, a man whose name +ought to go on the roll of martyrdom, was confined in the town of +Little Compton, in a cell seven feet square, stone-built, +stone-roofed, and stone-floored, the entrance double-walled, +double-doored and double-locked, "excluding both light and fresh air, +and without accommodation of any description for warming and +ventilation." When this dungeon was discovered, the walls were covered +by frost a half inch in thickness; the bed was provided with two +comfortables, both wet and the outer one stiffly frozen, or, as Miss +Dix puts it, "only wet straw to lie upon and a sheet of ice for his +covering." Lest two locks should not be enough to hold this dangerous +man, his leg was tethered to the stone floor by an ox-chain. "My +husband," said the mistress, "in winter, sometimes of a morning rakes +out half a bushel of frost, _and yet he never freezes_; sometimes he +screams dreadfully and that is the reason we had the double wall and +two doors in place of one; his cries disturb us in the house." "How +long has he been here?" "Oh, above three years." Nothing in the +traditions of the Bastile could exceed these horrors, and yet they +were not the product of intentional cruelty, but of unfathomable +stupidity. + +Disregarding the well-meant warnings of her attendant that he would +kill her, Miss Dix took his hands, tried to warm them in her own, +spoke to him of liberty, care and kindness, and for answer "a tear +stole over his hollow cheeks, but no words answered my importunities." +Her next step was to publish the terrible story in the Providence +Journal, not with a shriek, as might have been expected and justified, +but with the affected coolness of a naturalist. With grim humor, she +headed her article, "Astonishing Tenacity of Life," as if it had only +a scientific interest for anybody. If you doubted the statements, you +might go and see for yourself: "Should any persons in this +philanthropic age be disposed from motives of curiosity to visit the +place, they may rest assured that travelling is considered quite safe +in that part of the country, however improbable it may seem. The +people of that region profess the Christian religion, and it is even +said that they have adopted some forms and ceremonies which they call +worship. It is not probable, however, that they address themselves to +poor Simmons' God." Their prayers and his shrieks would make a strange +discord, she thinks, if they entered the ear of the same deity. + +Having reported her discoveries to the men of science, she next +appealed to the men of wealth. Providence had at that date a +multi-millionaire, by the name of Butler; he left four millions to his +heirs. He had never been known as a philanthropist; he did not himself +suppose that his heart was susceptible. It is said that knowing +persons smiled when they heard that Miss Dix intended to appeal to +him. Further, it is said that Mr. Butler, at the interview, +ingeniously diverted the conversation from topics that threatened to +be serious. He apparently had no thought of giving Miss Dix a penny. +At length she rose with the impressive dignity so often noted by her +pupils and said: "Mr. Butler, I wish you to hear what I have to say. I +want to bring before you certain facts involving terrible suffering +to your fellow creatures all around you,--suffering you can relieve. +My duty will end when I have done this, and with you will rest all +further responsibility." Mr. Butler heard her respectfully to the end, +and then asked, "What do you want me to do?" "Sir," she said, "I want +you to give $50,000 toward the enlargement of the insane hospital in +this city." "Madam, I'll do it," he said, and much more of his estate +afterward went the same way. + +Three years of devoted study of the problems of insanity, with +limitless opportunities for personal observation, had given Miss Dix +an expert knowledge of the subject. She had conceived what an insane +asylum should be. Hitherto, she had been content to enlarge upon +foundations already laid; now she would build an asylum herself. She +saw, we are told, that such an institution as she conceived could not +be built by private benevolence, but must have behind it a legislative +appropriation. She chose New Jersey as the field of her experiment. +Quietly, she entered the state and canvassed its jails and almshouses, +as she had those of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Next she digested +her facts in a Memorial to the Legislature. Then, with a political +shrewdness for which she became celebrated, she selected the member, +uniting a good heart with a clear head and persistent will, into whose +hands it should be placed. Much of her success is said to have been +due to her political sagacity. The superintendent of one of her +asylums said, "She had an insight into character that was truly +marvellous; and I have never known anyone, man or woman, who bore more +distinctly the mark of intellectuality." Having placed her Memorial in +the hands of a skilful tactician, she retired to a room appropriated +to her use by the courtesy of the House, where she spent her time +writing editorials for newspapers, answering the questions of members, +and holding receptions. "You cannot imagine," she writes a friend, +"the labor of conversing and convincing. Some evenings I had at once +twenty gentlemen for three hours' steady conversation." After a +campaign of two months the bill establishing the New Jersey State +Lunatic Asylum was passed, and the necessary money appropriated for +its erection. She was always partial to this first creation of her +energy and genius. She called it 'her first child,' and there, +forty-five years later, she returned to pass the last seven years of +her life, as in a home, a room having been gratefully appropriated to +her use by the trustees of the asylum. + +At this date, Dr. S. G. Howe wrote her: "God grant me to look back +upon some three years of my life with a part of the self-approval you +must feel. I ask no higher fortune. No one need say to you, Go on! for +you have heard a higher than any human voice, and you will follow +whithersoever it calleth." Indeed, she already had much of her future +work prepared. While waiting for the Legislature in New Jersey to take +up her bill, she had canvassed Pennsylvania and had the happiness to +see a bill pass the Legislature of that State founding the Dixmont +Hospital, her second child, soon after the birth of her first. The +Dixmont Hospital is the only one of her many children that she would +allow to be even indirectly named for her. Meanwhile, she had +canvassed Kentucky, had been before the Legislature in Tennessee, and, +seven days after the passage of her bill in New Jersey, she writes +from a steamer near Charleston, S. C., as follows: "I designed using +the spring and summer chiefly in examining the jails and poorhouses of +Indiana and Illinois. Having successfully completed my mission in +Kentucky, I learned that traveling in those States would be +difficult, if not impossible, for some weeks to come, on account of +mud and rains. This decided me to examine the prisons and hospitals of +New Orleans, and, returning, to see the state prisons of Louisiana at +Baton Rouge, of Mississippi at Jackson, of Arkansas at Little Rock, of +Missouri at Jefferson City, and of Illinois at Alton.... I have seen +incomparably more to approve than to censure in New Orleans. I took +the resolution, being so far away, of seeing the state institutions of +Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. Though this has proved +excessively fatiguing, I rejoice that I have carried out my purpose." + +Between June 1843 and August 1847, she states in a letter that she +traveled 32,470 miles, her conveyance being by steamboat when +possible; otherwise by stage-coach. It is suggestive of the wrecks and +delays she had experienced with the shattered coaches and mud roads of +the south and west that, as we are told, she "made a practice of +carrying with her an outfit of hammer, wrench, nails, screws, a coil +of rope, and straps of stout leather, which under many a mishap +sufficed to put things to rights and enable her to pursue her +journey." "I have encountered nothing so dangerous as river fords," +she writes. "I crossed the Yadkin when it was three-quarters of a mile +wide, rough bottom, often in places rapid currents; the water always +up to the carriage bed, and sometimes flowing in. The horses rested +twice on sand-bars. A few miles beyond the river having just crossed a +deep branch two hundred yards wide, the axletree broke, and away +rolled one of the back wheels." + +When she said that river fords were her greatest danger, she must have +forgotten an encounter with a highwayman. She was making a stage +journey in Michigan, and noticed with some consternation that the +driver carried a brace of pistols. To her inquiries he explained that +there had been robberies on the road. "Give me the pistols," she said; +"I will take care of them." More in awe of her than of robbers, the +driver reluctantly obeyed. Passing through a dismal forest the +expected happened. A man seized the horses and demanded her purse. She +made him a little speech, asked if he was not ashamed, told him her +business, and concluded, "If you have been unfortunate, are in +distress and in want of money, I will give you some." Meanwhile the +robber had turned "deathly pale," and when she had finished, +exclaimed, "My God, that voice." He had once heard her address the +prisoners in the Philadelphia penitentiary. He begged her to pass, and +declined to take the money she offered. She insisted, lest he might be +again tempted before he found employment. People obeyed when she +insisted, and he took her gift and disappeared. + +Think of the hotel accommodations,--the tables and beds,--she must +have encountered in these wild journeys. This is the woman who, a few +years ago, seemed to be dying with hemorrhages of the lungs. Did she +have no more of them? Oh, yes; we are assured that "again and again +she was attacked with hemorrhages and again and again prostrated by +malarial fever." A physician said, "Her system became actually +saturated with malaria." Invalid as she almost always was, she had +left her foot-prints in most of the states of the Union and had +carried the war into the British Provinces, where she had been the +means of establishing three insane hospitals: one in Toronto, one in +Halifax, one at St. John, Newfoundland, besides providing a fleet of +life-boats at Sable Island, known as "The Graveyard of Ships," off the +coast of Nova Scotia. + +In the United States, during these twelve years, she "promoted and +secured," to use her own phrase, the enlargement of three asylums: at +Worcester, Mass., at Providence, R. I., and at Utica, N. Y., and the +establishment of thirteen, one in each of the following states: New +Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, +Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, North Carolina, and +Maryland, with the Hospital for Insane Soldiers and Sailors, at +Washington, D. C. + +In 1850, Miss Dix proposed a larger scheme of philanthropy than was +ever before projected by any mortal. What is more, but for one man, +she would have carried it out. She petitioned Congress to appropriate +12,000,000 acres of public lands for the benefit of the indigent +insane, deaf and dumb, and blind. A bill to that effect was +introduced, watched by her through two sessions, and finally passed by +both Houses. She was inundated with congratulations from far and near; +but the bill was vetoed on constitutional grounds by President Pierce. +The day for giving away the public lands in sheets had not come. + +The blow seems to have been more than Miss Dix could endure. She went +abroad for change and rest. What rest meant to her, she expresses in +a letter to a friend at home: + + "Rest is not quitting the active career: + Rest is the fitting of self to its sphere." + +These lines, borrowed from John S. Dwight have been, not unnaturally, +attributed to her. She wrote many things perhaps quite as poetical. + +Not much of the verse, which came from her prolific pen, was +considered even by herself to deserve publication, but verse-writing +is said to had been the never-failing diversion of her leisure hours. +Mrs. Caroline A. Kennard credits her with the following lines which, +though very simple, are quite as good as much that has been +immortalized in our hymn books: + + "In the tender, peaceful moonlight, + I am from the world apart, + While a flood of golden glory + Fills alike my room and heart. + + As I gaze upon the radiance + Shining on me from afar, + I can almost see beyond it,-- + Almost see 'the gates ajar.' + + Tender thoughts arise within me + Of the friends who've gone before, + Absent long but not forgotten, + Resting on the other shore. + + And my soul is filled with longing + That when done with earth and sin, + I may find the gates wide open + There for me to enter in." + +Apparently, she wrote her poetry for herself, as an unskilled musician +might play for his own amusement. + +The rest which Miss Dix allowed herself between September 1854 and +September 1856, was to visit the chief hospitals and prisons in +Europe. Edinburgh, the Channel Islands, Paris, Rome, Naples, +Constantinople, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Stockholm, Copenhagen, +Amsterdam, Brussels, and again Paris and London: these places mark the +course of her two years' pilgrimage among the prisons and hospitals of +Europe. She found much to admire in this journey, but sometimes abuses +to correct. We must content ourselves with an incident from Edinburgh, +perfectly in character. She found in that city private insane +hospitals, if they could be dignified by the name, under such +conditions of mismanagement as shocked even her experienced nerves. +Having reported the facts to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh to no +purpose, she was advised to lay the matter before the Home Secretary +in London. The Provost knew of this intention and resolved to +forestall her by taking the train for London the next morning; so +little did he know Miss Dix. She boarded the night train, and was on +the spot before him, had her interview, secured the appointment of a +royal commission and, ultimately the correction of the abuses of which +she had complained. + +During the four years that intervened between her return and the +outbreak of the Civil War, she seems to have travelled over most of +her old ground in this country, and to have extended her journeys into +the new states and territories. At the approach of hostilities, it +fell to Miss Dix to give the President of the Philadelphia and +Baltimore Railroad the first information of a plot to capture the city +of Washington and to assassinate Mr. Lincoln. Acting upon this +information, Gen. Butler's Massachusetts troops were sent by boat +instead of rail, and Mr. Lincoln was "secretly smuggled through to +Washington." + +By natural selection, Miss Dix was appointed Superintendent of Women +Nurses in the federal service, by order of the Secretary of War. In +this capacity she served through the four years' struggle. In a letter +dated December 7, 1864, she writes: "I take no hour's leisure. I think +that since the war, I have taken no day's furlough." Her great +services were officially recognized by Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of +War. + +Having served the country as faithfully as any soldier, during its +hour of need, she returned to her former work of promoting and +securing the erection of hospitals and of visiting those before +established. In 1877, when Miss Dix was seventy-five, Dr. Charles F. +Folsom, of Boston, in a book entitled "Diseases of the Mind," said of +her: "Her frequent visits to our institutions of the insane now, and +her searching criticisms, constitute of themselves a better lunacy +commission than would be likely to be appointed in many of our +states." + +She was at that date, however, near the end of her active labors. In +1881, at the age of seventy-nine, she retired to the hospital she had +been the means of building in Trenton, N. J., and there she remained, +tenderly, even reverently cared for, until her death in 1887. So +passed to her rest and her reward one of the most remarkable women of +her generation. + + + + +V + +SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI + + +[Illustration: SARAH MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI] + +At Cambridge, it is still possible to pick up interesting +reminiscences of Longfellow and Lowell from old neighbors or townsmen, +proud even to have seen these celebrities as familiar objects upon the +street. "And Margaret Fuller," you suggest, further to tap the memory +of your venerable friend. He smiles gently and says, Margaret Fuller +was before his time; he remembers the table-talk of his youth. He +remembers, when she was a girl at dancing-school, Papanti stopped his +class and said, "Mees Fuller, Mees Fuller, you sal not be so +magnee-fee-cent"; he remembers that, being asked if she thought +herself better than any one else, she calmly said, "Yes, I do"; and he +remembers that Miss Fuller having announced that she accepted the +universe, a wit remarked that the universe ought to be greatly obliged +to her. + +Margaret Fuller was born in 1810, a year later than Longfellow, but +while Longfellow lived until 1882, Margaret was lost at sea thirty +years before, in 1850. The last four years of her life were spent in +Italy, so that American memories of Margaret must needs go back to +1846. Practically it is traditions of her that remain, and not +memories. As she survives in tradition, she seems to have been a +person of inordinate vanity, who gave lectures in drawing-rooms and +called them "conversations," uttered a commonplace with the authority +of an oracle, and sentimentalized over art, poetry, or religion, while +she seemed to herself, and apparently to others, to be talking +philosophy. She took herself in all seriousness as a genius, ran a +dazzling career of a dozen years or so in Cambridge and Boston, and +then her light seems to have gone out. She came to the surface, with +other newness, in the Transcendental era; she was the priestess of its +mysteries; when that movement ebbed away, her day was over. This is +the impression one would gather, if he had only current oral +traditions of Margaret Fuller. + +If with this impression, wishing to get a first-hand knowledge of his +subject, a student were to read the "Works of Margaret Fuller":--"Life +Within and Without," "At Home and Abroad," "Woman in the Nineteenth +Century," "Art, Literature, and Drama,"--he would be prepared to find +eccentricities of style, straining for effect, mystical utterances, +attempts at profundity, and stilted commonplace. He would, however, +find nothing of this sort, or of any sort of make believe, but simply +a writer always in earnest, always convinced, with a fair English +style, perfectly intelligible, intent upon conveying an idea in the +simplest manner and generally an idea which approves itself to the +common-sense of the reader. There is no brilliancy, no ornament, +little imagination, and not a least glimmer of wit. The absence of wit +is remarkable, since in conversation, wit was a quality for which +Margaret was both admired and feared. But as a writer, Margaret was a +little prosaic,--even her poetry inclined to be prosaic,--but she is +earnest, noble, temperate, and reasonable. The reader will be +convinced that there was more in the woman than popular tradition +recognizes. + +One is confirmed in the conviction that the legend does her less than +justice when he knows the names and the quality of her friends. No +woman ever had better or more loyal friends than Margaret Fuller. +Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Freeman Clarke and William Henry Channing +were among them and compiled her "Memoirs," evidently as a labor of +love. George William Curtis knew her personally, and called her "a +scholar, a critic, a thinker, a queen of conversation, above all, a +person of delicate insight and sympathy, of the most feminine +refinement of feeling and of dauntless courage." Col. Higginson, a +fellow-townsman, who from youth to manhood, knew Margaret personally, +whose sisters were her intimates, whose family, as he tells us, was +"afterwards closely connected" with hers by marriage, and who has +studied all the documents and written her biography, says she was a +"person whose career is more interesting, as it seems to me, than that +of any other American of her sex; a woman whose aims were high and +whose services great; one whose intellect was uncommon, whose activity +was incessant, whose life, varied, and whose death, dramatic." + +There still remains the current legend, and a legend, presumably, has +some foundation. If we attempt to unite the Margaret Fuller of common +tradition with Margaret Fuller as estimated by her friends, we shall +assume that she was not a wholly balanced character,--that she must +have been a great and noble woman to have had such friends, but that +there may have been in her some element of foolishness which her +friends excused and at which the public smiled. + +Margaret was the fifth in descent from Lieut. Thomas Fuller, who came +from England in 1638, and who celebrated the event in a poem of which +the first stanza is as follows: + + "In thirty-eight I set my foot + On this New England shore; + My thoughts were then to stay one year, + And then remain no more." + +The poetry is on a level with other colonial poetry of the period. + +Timothy Fuller, the grandfather of Margaret, graduated at Harvard +College in 1760, became a clergyman, and was a delegate to the +Massachusetts State Convention which adopted the Federal Constitution. +He had five sons, all of whom became lawyers. "They were in general," +says Col. Higginson, "men of great energy, pushing, successful, of +immense and varied information, of great self-esteem, and without a +particle of tact." The evidence is that Margaret reproduced, in a +somewhat exaggerated form, all these Fuller characteristics, good and +bad. The saying is quoted from Horace Mann that if Margaret +was unpopular, "it was because she probably inherited the +disagreeableness of forty Fullers." + +Timothy Fuller, Margaret's father, was the oldest of these brothers +and, Col. Higginson says, "the most successful and the most assured." +He graduated at Harvard, second in his class, in 1801, lived in +Cambridge, and represented the Middlesex district in Congress from +1817 to 1825. He was a "Jeffersonian Democrat" and a personal friend +and political supporter of John Quincy Adams. He married Margaret, the +daughter of Major Peter Crane. Mrs. Fuller was as gentle and +unobtrusive as her stalwart husband was forceful and uncompliant. She +effaced herself even in her own home, was seen and not heard, though +apparently not very conspicuously seen. She had eight children, of +whom Margaret was the first, and when this busy mother escaped from +the care of the household, it was to take refuge in her flower garden. +A "fair blossom of the white amaranth," Margaret calls this mother. +The child's nature took something from both of her parents, and was +both strong and tender. + +Her father assumed the entire charge of Margaret's education, setting +her studying Latin at the age of six, not an unusual feat in that day +for a boy, but hitherto unheard of for a girl. Her lessons were +recited at night, after Mr. Fuller returned from his office in Boston, +often at a late hour. "High-pressure," says Col. Higginson, "is bad +enough for an imaginative and excitable child, but high-pressure by +candle-light is ruinous; yet that was the life she lived." The effect +of these night lessons was to leave the child's brain both tired and +excited and in no condition to sleep. It was considered singular that +she was never ready for bed. She was hustled off to toss on her +pillow, to see horrid visions, to have nightmare, and sometimes to +walk in her sleep. Terrible morning headaches followed, and Margaret +was considered a delicate child. One would like to know what Latin at +six would have done for her, without those recitations by +candle-light. + +Mr. Fuller did not consider it important that a child should have +juvenile books and Margaret's light reading consisted of Shakspere, +Cervantes, and Moliere. She gives an interesting account of her +discovery of Shakspere at the age of eight. Foraging for entertainment +on a dismal winter Sunday afternoon, she took down a volume of +Shakspere and was soon lost in the adventures and misadventures of +Romeo and Juliet. Two hours passed, when the child's exceeding quiet +attracted attention. "That is no book for Sunday," said her father, +"put it away." Margaret obeyed, but soon took the book again to follow +the fortunes of her lovers further. This was a fatal indiscretion; the +forbidden volume was again taken from her and she was sent to bed as a +punishment for disobedience. + +Meanwhile, the daily lessons to her father or to a private tutor went +on; Virgil, Horace and Ovid were read in due course, and the study of +Greek was begun. Margaret never forgave her father for robbing her of +a proper childhood and substituting a premature scholastic education. +"I certainly do not wish," she says, "that instead of these masters, I +had read baby books, written down to children, but I do wish that I +had read no books at all till later,--that I had lived with toys and +played in the open air." + +Her early and solitary development entailed disadvantages which only a +very thoughtful parent could have foreseen. When, later, Margaret was +sent to school, she had no companions in study, being in advance of +the girls of her age, with whom she played, and too young for the +older set with whom she was called to recite. "Not only," she says, "I +was not their schoolmate, but my book-life and lonely habits had given +a cold aloofness to my whole expression, and veiled my manner with a +hauteur which turned all hearts away." + +The effects of her training upon her health, Margaret appears to have +exaggerated. She thought it had "checked her growth, wasted her +constitution," and would bring her to a "premature grave." While her +lessons to her father by candle-light continued, there were +sleeplessness, bad dreams, and morning headaches, but after this had +gone on one year, Mr. Fuller was elected to Congress, spent most of +his time in Washington, and a private tutor gave the lessons, +presumably at seasonable hours. No one with a "broken constitution" +could have performed her later literary labors, and she was not +threatened with a "premature grave" when Dr. Frederick Henry Hedge +made her acquaintance in Cambridge society. "Margaret," he says, "was +then about thirteen,--a child in years, but so precocious in her +mental and physical development, that she passed for eighteen or +twenty. Agreeably to this estimate, she had her place in society as a +full-grown lady. When I recall her personal appearance as she was +then, and for ten or twelve years subsequent, I have the idea of a +blooming girl of florid complexion and vigorous health, with a +tendency to robustness of which she was painfully conscious, and +which, with little regard to hygienic principles, she endeavored to +suppress and conceal, thereby preparing for herself much future +suffering." She had, he says, "no pretensions to beauty then, or at +any time," yet she "was not plain," a reproach from which she was +saved "by her blond and abundant hair, by her excellent teeth, by her +sparkling, dancing, busy eyes," and by a "graceful and peculiar +carriage of her head and neck." He adds that "in conversation she had +already, at that early age, begun to distinguish herself, and made +much the same impression in society that she did in after years," but +that she had an excessive "tendency to sarcasm" which frightened shy +young people and made her notoriously unpopular with the ladies. + +At this period Margaret attended a seminary for young ladies in +Boston. Cambridge was then, according to Col. Higginson, a vast, +sparsely settled village, containing between two and three thousand +inhabitants. In the Boston school, Dr. Hedge says, "the inexperienced +country girl was exposed to petty persecutions from the dashing misses +of the city," and Margaret paid them off by "indiscriminate sarcasms." + +Margaret's next two years were spent at a boarding school in Groton. +Her adventures in this school are supposed to be narrated in her +dramatic story entitled "Mariana," in the volume called "Summer on the +Lakes." Mariana at first carried all before her "by her love of wild +dances and sudden song, her freaks of passion and wit," but abusing +her privileges, she is overthrown by her rebellious subjects, brought +to great humiliation, and receives some needed moral instructions. + +At fifteen, Margaret returned to Cambridge and resumed her private +studies, except that, for a Greek recitation, she attended an academy +in which Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was then fitting for college. Her +day at this period, as she gives it, was occupied thus: she rose +before five, walked an hour, and practiced at the piano till seven: +breakfasted and read French till eight; read Brown's philosophy, two +or three lectures, till half past nine; went to school and studied +Greek till twelve; recited, went home, and practiced till two; dined; +lounged half an hour, read two hours in Italian, walked or rode, and +spent her evenings leisurely with music or friends. Plainly she ought +to have been one of the learned women of her generation. + +A school composition of Margaret impressed her fellow pupil, Dr. +Holmes, as he relates, with a kind of awe. It began loftily with the +words, "It is a trite remark," a phrase which seemed to the boy very +masterful. The girls envied her a certain queenliness of manner. "We +thought," says one of them, "that if we could only come into school in +that way, we could know as much Greek as she did." She was accustomed +to fill the hood of her cloak with books, swing them over her +shoulder, and march away. "We wished," says this lady, "that our +mothers would let us have hooded cloaks, that we might carry our books +in the same way." + +It is known that Margaret had several love affairs and, in a later +letter, she refers to one which belongs to this period, and which +appears to have been the first of the series. She meets her old adorer +again at the age of thirty and writes to a friend who knew of the +youthful episode. He had the same powerful eye, calm wisdom, refined +observation and "the imposing _maniere d'etre_ which anywhere would +give him influence among men"; but in herself, she says, "There is +scarcely a fibre left of the haughty, passionate, ambitious child he +remembered and loved." + +Though a precocious girl and in a way fascinating, there is evidence +that Margaret was crude and unformed socially, due perhaps to the +habit of considering her mother as a negligible quantity. Cambridge +ladies preserved an unpleasant portrait of the child as she appeared +at a grand reception given by Mr. Fuller to President Adams in 1826, +"one of the most elaborate affairs of the kind," says Col. Higginson, +"that had occurred in Cambridge since the ante-revolutionary days of +the Lechmeres and Vassals." Margaret ought to have been dressed by an +artist, but apparently, a girl of sixteen, she was left to her own +devices. She appeared, we are told, with a low-necked dress badly cut, +tightly laced, her arms held back as if pinioned, her hair curled all +over her head, and she danced quadrilles very badly. This escapade was +not allowed to repeat itself. Certain kind and motherly Cambridge +ladies took the neglected child in hand, tamed her rude strength, and +subdued her manners. Col. Higginson mentions half a dozen of these +excellent ladies, among them his mother, at whose feet "this studious, +self-conscious, overgrown girl" would sit, "covering her hands with +kisses and treasuring every word." + +Chief among Margaret's motherly friends was Mrs. Eliza Farrar, wife of +a Harvard professor, an authoress of merit, "of uncommon character and +cultivation, who had lived much in Europe, and who, with no children +of her own," became a kind of foster-mother to Margaret. She had +Margaret "constantly at her own house, reformed her hairdresser, +instructed her dressmaker, and took her to make calls and on +journeys." Margaret was an apt pupil, and the good training of these +many Cambridge mothers was apparent when, ten years later, Mr. Emerson +made her acquaintance. "She was then, as always," he says, "carefully +and becomingly dressed, and of lady-like self-possession." + +The seven years in Cambridge, from Margaret's fifteenth to her +twenty-third year, though uneventful, were, considering merely the +pleasure of existence, the most delightful of her life. She was a +school-girl as much or as little as she cared to be; her health, when +not overtaxed, was perfect; her family though not rich, were in easy +circumstances; her father was distinguished, having just retired from +Congress after eight years of creditable service; and, partly perhaps +from her father's distinction, she had access to the best social +circles of Cambridge. "In our evening reunions," says Dr. Hedge, "she +was always conspicuous by the brilliancy of her wit, which needed but +little provocation to break forth in exuberant sallies, that drew +around her a knot of listeners, and made her the central attraction of +the hour. Rarely did she enter a company in which she was not a +prominent object." Her conversational talent "continued to develop +itself in these years, and was certainly" he thinks, "her most decided +gift. One could form no adequate idea of her ability without hearing +her converse.... For some reason or other, she could never deliver +herself in print as she did with her lips." Emerson, in perfect +agreement with this estimate says, "Her pen was a non-conductor." The +reader will not think this true in her letters, where often the words +seem to palpitate. Doubtless the world had no business to see her love +letters, but one will find there a woman who, if she could speak as +she writes, must have poured herself out in tidal waves. + +Dr. Hedge was struck by two traits of Margaret's character, repeatedly +mentioned by others, but to which it is worth while to have his +testimony. The first was a passionate love for the beautiful: "I have +never known one who seemed to derive such satisfaction from beautiful +forms"; the second was "her intellectual sincerity. Her judgment took +no bribes from her sex or her sphere, nor from custom, nor tradition, +nor caprice." + +Margaret was nineteen years old when Dr. James Freeman Clarke, then a +young man in college, made her acquaintance. "We both lived in +Cambridge," he says, "and from that time until she went to reside in +Groton in 1833, I saw her or heard from her almost every day. There +was a family connection between us, and we called each other cousins." +Possessing in a greater degree than any person he ever knew, the power +of magnetizing others, she had drawn about her a circle of girl +friends whom she entertained and delighted by her exuberant talent. +They came from Boston, Charlestown, Roxbury, Brookline, and met now at +one house and now at another of these pleasant towns. Dr. Hedge also +knows of this charming circle, and says, "she loved to draw these fair +girls to herself, and make them her guests, and was never so happy as +when surrounded in company, by such a bevy." + +With all her social activity, Margaret kept up her studies at a rate +that would be the despair of a young man in college. "She already, +when I first became acquainted with her," says Dr. Clarke, "had become +familiar with the masterpieces of French, Italian, and Spanish +literature," and was beginning German, and in about three months, she +was reading with ease the masterpieces of German literature. +Meanwhile, she was keeping up her Greek as a pastime, reading over and +over the dialogues of Plato. Still there is time for Mr. Clarke to +walk with her for hours beneath the lindens or in the garden, or, on a +summer's day to ride with her on horseback from Cambridge to +Newton,--a day he says, "all of a piece, in which my eloquent +companion helped me to understand my past life and her own." + +We cannot wonder that, at the age of twenty-three, Margaret +reluctantly left Cambridge where there was so much that she loved, and +went with her family to a farm in Groton where, with certain +unpleasant school-girl memories, there was nothing that she loved at +all. In 1833, at the age of sixty-five Mr. Fuller retired from his law +practice and bought an estate in Groton, with the double purpose of +farming his lands for income, and, in his leisure, writing a history +of the United States, for which his public life had been a +preparation, and towards which he had collected much material. +Margaret's most exacting duties were the education of the younger +children, which left her much time for her favorite studies. She had +correspondents by the score; her friends visited her; Cambridge homes +were open to her; and Mrs. Farrar took her on a delightful journey to +Newport, Hudson River and Trenton Falls. Still we cannot add the two +years in Groton to her happy period, because she allowed herself to be +intensely miserable. Six years later, in a moment of penitence, she +said of this period, "Had I been wise in such matters then as now, how +easy and fair I might have made the whole." + +She fought her homesickness by overwork, so that Emerson says, "her +reading in Groton was at a rate like Gibbon's," and she paid the +penalty of her excesses by a serious illness which threatened to be +fatal, and from which perhaps she never fully recovered. It was some +consolation that her father was melted to an unwonted exhibition of +tenderness, and that he said to her in this mood, "My dear, I have +been thinking of you in the night, and I cannot remember that you have +any faults. You have defects, of course, as all mortals have, but I do +not know that you have a single fault." + +Events were soon to make this remark one of her dearest memories. In a +short time, death separated the father and child, who had been so much +to each other. In 1835, Mr. Fuller fell a victim to cholera, and died +in three days. For a year or more, Margaret's heart had been set upon +a visit to Europe for study; the trip had been promised by her father; +it had been arranged that she should accompany her friends, the +Farrars; but the death of Mr. Fuller dissolved this dream, and, in her +journal, solemnly praying that "duty may now be the first object and +self set aside," she dedicates her strength to her "mother, brothers, +and sister." No one can read the "Memoirs" without feeling that she +kept her vows. + +The estate of Mr. Fuller finally yielded $2,000 to each of the seven +children, much less, Margaret says, than was anticipated. With +reason, she wrote, "Life, as I look forward, presents a scene of +struggle and privation only." In the winter, at Mrs. Farrar's, +Margaret met Mr. Emerson; the summer following she visited at his +house in Concord. There she met Mr. Alcott and engaged to teach in his +school in Boston. + +Margaret Fuller's visit at Mr. Emerson's in 1836 had for her very +important consequences. It was the first of many visits and was the +beginning of an intimacy which takes its place among the most +interesting literary friendships in the history of letters. To this +friendship Col. Higginson devotes a separate chapter in his biography +of Margaret, and in the "Memoirs," under the title of "Visits to +Concord," Mr. Emerson gives a charming account of it in more than a +hundred pages. + +Mr. Emerson was by no means the stranger to Margaret that she was to +him. She had sat under his preaching during his pastorate at the +Second Church in Boston, and "several of his sermons," so she wrote to +a friend, "stood apart in her memory like landmarks in her spiritual +history." It appears that she had failed to come to close quarters +with this timid apostle. A year after he left his pulpit, she wrote of +him as the "only clergyman of all possible clergymen who eludes my +acquaintance." + +When, at length, she was invited to Concord, it was as Mrs. Emerson's +guest, not as his: "she came to spend a fortnight with my wife." +However, at last she was under his roof. "I still remember," he says, +"the first half hour of her conversation.... Her extreme plainness,--a +trick of incessantly opening and shutting her eyelids,--the nasal tone +of her voice--all repelled; and I said to myself, we shall never get +far.... I remember that she made me laugh more than I liked.... She +had an incredible variety of anecdotes, and the readiest wit to give +an absurd turn to whatever passed; and the eyes, which were so plain +at first, soon swam with fun and drolleries, and the very tides of joy +and superabundant life." + +The practical outcome of the visit was an engagement to teach in Mr. +Alcott's school. Under date of August 2, 1836, Mr. Alcott writes, +"Emerson called this morning and took me to Concord to spend the day. +At his house, I met Margaret Fuller ... and had some conversation with +her about taking Miss Peabody's place in my school." That is to say, +Mr. Emerson had in his house a brilliant young lady who, by stress of +circumstances, wanted a situation; he had a friend in Boston in whose +school there was a vacancy; Mr. Emerson, at some pains to himself, +brought the parties together. Nor was this the last time that Mr. +Emerson befriended Margaret. + +It appears from Mr. Alcott's diary that Miss Fuller began her +engagement with January, that she taught Latin and French at the +school, and French, German, and Italian to private classes. For a +class of beginners, she "thought it good success," she says, "when at +the end of three months, they could read twenty pages of German at a +lesson, and very well." An advanced class in German read Goethe's +Hermann and Dorothea, Goetz von Berlichingen, Iphigenia, and the first +part of Faust, "three weeks of thorough study," she calls it, "as +valuable to me as to them." + +The class in Italian went at an equal pace. At the same time she had +three private pupils, to one of whom, every day for ten weeks, she +taught Latin "orally,"--in other words, Latin conversation. In her +leisure, she "translated, one evening every week, German authors into +English for the gratification of Dr. Channing." It is to be hoped that +she was paid for this service, because she found it far from +interesting. "It is not very pleasant," she writes, "for Dr. Channing +takes in subjects more deliberately than is conceivable to us feminine +people." + +In the spring of 1837, Margaret accepted an invitation to teach in a +private academy in Providence, R. I.--four hours a day, at a salary of +$1,000. We are not told how this invitation came to her, but it is not +difficult to detect the hand of Mr. Emerson. The proprietor of the +school was an admirer of Emerson, so much so that he brought Emerson +from Concord in June following, to dedicate a new school building. His +relation to both parties makes it probable that Margaret owed her +second engagement, as she did her first, to the good offices of Mr. +Emerson. + +She taught in this school with success, two years, "worshipped by the +girls," it is said, "but sometimes too sarcastic for the boys." The +task of teaching, however, was irksome to her, her mind was in +literature; she had from Mr. Ripley a definite proposition to write a +"Life of Goethe," a task of which she had dreamed many years; and she +resigned her position, and withdrew from the profession of +school-teacher, at the end of 1838. Her life of Goethe was never +written, but it was always dancing before her eyes and, more than +once, determined her course. + +In the following spring, Margaret took a pleasant house in Jamaica +Plain, "then and perhaps now," Col. Higginson says, "the most rural +and attractive suburb of Boston." Here she brought her mother and the +younger children. Three years later, she removed with them to +Cambridge, and for the next five years, she kept the family together, +and made a home for them. In addition to the income of the estate, she +expected to meet her expenses by giving lessons. Two pupils came with +her from Providence, and other pupils came for recitations, by whom +she was paid at the rate of two dollars an hour. + +With these resources the life in Jamaica Plain began very quietly and +pleasantly. To be quiet however was not natural to Margaret. Besides, +she had fallen upon what, intellectually, were stirring times. It was +at the high tide of the Transcendental movement. William Henry +Channing who, like Margaret, was a part of it, says, "the summer of +1839 saw the full dawn of this strange enthusiasm." As he briefly +defines it "Transcendentalism, as viewed by its disciples, was a +pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds and rituals to the +temple of the living God in the soul." Its disciples, says Mr. +Channing, "were pleasantly nick-named the 'Like-minded,' on the ground +that no two were of the same opinion." Of this company, he says, +"Margaret was a member by the grace of nature.... Men, her superiors +in years, in fame and social position, treated her more with the +frankness due from equal to equal, than the half condescending +deference with which scholars are wont to adapt themselves to +women.... It was evident that they prized her verdict, respected her +criticism, feared her rebuke, and looked to her as an umpire." In +speaking, "her opening was deliberate, like the progress of a massive +force gaining its momentum; but as she felt her way, and moving in a +congenial element, the sweep of her speech became grand. The style of +her eloquence was sententious, free from prettiness, direct, vigorous, +charged with vitality." + +It was a saying of hers that if she had been a man, she would have +aspired to become an orator, and it seems probable she would not have +aspired in vain. The natural sequel to the occasional discussions of +the summer was the formation of a class of ladies for Conversation, +with Margaret as the leader. This class contained twenty-five or +thirty ladies, among whom were Mrs. George Bancroft, Mrs. Lydia Maria +Child, Mrs. Horace Mann, Mrs. Theodore Parker, Mrs. Waldo Emerson, +Mrs. George Ripley, and Mrs. Josiah Quincy. The first series of +thirteen meetings was immediately followed by a second series; they +were resumed the next winter and were continued with unabated interest +for five years. + +The subjects considered in these celebrated Conversations ranged over +a very wide field, from mythology and religion, poetry and art, to +war, ethics, and sociology. If Margaret had not been brilliant in +these assemblies, she would have fallen short of herself as she has +been represented in the Cambridge drawing-rooms. As reported by one of +the members of the class, "Margaret used to come to the conversations +very well dressed and, altogether, looked sumptuously. She began them +with an exordium in which she gave her leading views,"--a part which +she is further said to have managed with great skill and charm, after +which she invited others to join in the discussion. Mr. Emerson tells +us that the apparent sumptuousness in her attire was imaginary, the +"effect of a general impression made by her genius and mistakenly +attributed to some external elegance; for," he says, "I have been told +by her most intimate friend, who knew every particular of her conduct +at the time, that there was nothing of especial expense or splendor in +her toilette." + +Mr. Emerson knew a lady "of eminent powers, previously by no means +partial to Margaret," who said, on leaving one of these assemblies, "I +never heard, read of, or imagined a conversation at all equal to this +we have now heard." Many testimonies have been brought together, in +the "Memoirs," of the enthusiasm and admiration created by Margaret in +these Conversations. They were probably her most brilliant +achievements, though, in the nature of the case, nothing survives of +them but the echo in these recorded memories of participants. + +Mr. Emerson says that "the fame of these conversations" led to a +proposal that Margaret should undertake an evening class to which +gentlemen should be admitted and that he himself had the pleasure of +"assisting at one--the second--of these soirees." Margaret "spoke +well--she could not otherwise,--but I remember that she seemed +encumbered, or interrupted, by the headiness or incapacity of the +men." A lady who attended the entire series, a "true hand," he says, +reports that "all that depended on others entirely failed" and that +"even in the point of erudition, which Margaret did not profess on the +subject, she proved the best informed of the party." This testimony is +worth something in answer to the charge that Margaret's scholarship +was fictitious, that she had a smattering of many things, but knew +nothing thoroughly. She seems to have compared well with others, some +of whom were considered scholars. "Take her as a whole," said Mr. +Emerson's informant, "she has the most to bestow on others by +conversation of any person I have ever known." + +For these services, Margaret seems to have received liberal +compensation, though all was so cordial that she says she never had +the feeling of being "a paid Corinne." For the conversations with +ladies and gentlemen, according to Mrs. Dall who has published her +notes of them, the tickets were $20 each, for the series of ten +evenings. + +It appears from his account that Mr. Emerson saw much of Margaret +during these years and that she was frequently his guest. "The day," +he says, "was never long enough to exhaust her opulent memory; and I, +who knew her intimately for ten years,--from July, 1836, till August, +1846, when she sailed for Europe,--never saw her without a surprise at +her new powers." She was as busy as he, and they seldom met in the +forenoon, but "In the evening, she came to the library, and many and +many a conversation was there held," he tells us, "whose details, if +they could be preserved, would justify all encomiums. They interested +me in every manner;--talent, memory, wit, stern introspection, poetic +play, religion, the finest personal feeling, the aspects of the +future, each followed each in full activity, and left me, I remember, +enriched, and sometimes astonished by the gifts of my guest." + +She was "rich in friends," and wore them "as a necklace of diamonds +about her neck." "She was an active and inspiring companion and +correspondent, and all the art, the thought and nobleness of New +England seemed, at that moment, related to her and she to it. She was +everywhere a welcome guest.... Her arrival was a holiday, and so was +her abode ... all tasks that could be suspended were put aside to +catch the favorable hour, in walking, riding, or boating to talk with +this joyful guest, who brought wit, anecdotes, love-stories, +tragedies, oracles with her, and, with her broad relations to so many +fine friends, seemed like the queen of some parliament of love, who +carried the key to all confidences, and to whom every question had +been finally referred." + +At a later day, when Margaret was in Italy, reports came back that she +was making conquests, and having advantageous offers of marriage. Even +Mr. Emerson expressed surprise at these social successes in a strange +land, but a lady said to him, "There is nothing extraordinary in it. +Had she been a man, any one of those fine girls of sixteen, who +surrounded her here, would have married her: they were all in love +with her." + +"Of personal influence, speaking strictly,--an efflux, that is, purely +of mind and character," Mr. Emerson thinks she had more than any other +person he ever knew. Even a recluse like Hawthorne yielded to this +influence. Hawthorne was married to Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842, and +began housekeeping in the Old Manse in Concord. The day following +their engagement Miss Peabody wrote Miss Fuller addressing her "Dear, +most noble Margaret," and saying, "I feel that you are entitled, +through our love and regard to be told directly.... Mr. Hawthorne, +last evening, in the midst of his emotions, so deep and absorbing, +after deciding, said that Margaret can now, when she visits Mr. +Emerson spend part of the time with us." A month after the marriage, +Hawthorne himself wrote to Margaret, "There is nobody to whom I would +more willingly speak my mind, because I can be certain of being +understood." Evidently he is not beginning an acquaintance; he already +knows Margaret intimately and respects her thoroughly. There is no +evidence, I believe, that during her life, he held any different +opinion of her. + +These facts have become of special interest because, in Italy, eight +years after her death, he wrote in his Note-Book, that Margaret "had a +strong and coarse nature" and that "she was a great humbug." The most +reasonable explanation of this change of view is that Margaret was +dead, poor woman, and could not speak for herself; that she had fought +with all her might in an Italian Revolution that had failed; that +having failed, she and her party were discredited; that her enemies +survived, and Hawthorne listened to them. However his later opinions +may be explained, the quality of her friends in America, among whom +had been Hawthorne himself, is evidence that Margaret was not of a +"coarse nature," and it is incredible that a "humbug" could have +imposed herself for five years upon those ladies who attended her +conversations, not to speak of James Freeman Clarke who was a fair +scholar and Dr. Hedge who was a very rare scholar. + +Margaret had her weaknesses, which her friends do not conceal. It was +a weakness, not perhaps that she overestimated herself; that might be +pardoned; but that she took no pains to conceal her high opinion of +her abilities and worth. One likes to see an appearance of modesty, +and that little deceit Margaret did not practice. On the contrary, Mr. +Emerson says, "Margaret at first astonished and then repelled us by a +complacency that seemed the most assured since the days of +Scaligar.... In the coolest way, she said to her friends, 'I now know +all the people worth knowing in America, and I find no intellect +comparable to my own.'... It is certain that Margaret occasionally let +slip, with all the innocence imaginable, some phrase betraying the +presence of a rather mountainous ME, in a way to surprise those who +knew her good sense." Col. Higginson quotes a saying about the +Fullers, that "Their only peculiarity was that they said openly about +themselves the good and bad things which we commonly suppress about +ourselves and express only about other people." The common way is not +more sincere, but it is pleasanter. + +In 1840, the second year of Margaret's Conversations, appeared the +first number of _The Dial_, a literary magazine of limited +circulation, but destined to a kind of post-mortem immortality. In +1841, the Community of Brook Farm was established. An interesting +account of both enterprises, and of Margaret's part in them, is given +by Mr. Emerson in a paper found in the tenth volume of his collected +Works. In the preliminary discussions leading to both enterprises, +Margaret participated. Like Mr. Emerson, she did not have unqualified +faith in the Brook Farm experiment and did not join the community, +though she had many friends in it, was a frequent visitor, and had the +honor to sit for the portrait of "Zenobia" in Mr. Hawthorne's +Blithedale Romance. + +Her part in _The Dial_ was more prominent. She edited the first two +volumes of the magazine, being then succeeded by Mr. Emerson, and she +wrote for it a paper entitled "Man vs. Men: Woman vs. Women," +afterward expanded and published in a volume under the title, "Woman +in the Nineteenth Century," her second and most famous book. Her first +book, "Summer on the Lakes," is an account of a charming journey, with +the family of James Freeman Clarke and others, by steamboat and farm +wagon, as far as the Mississippi. It was a voyage of discovery, and +her account has permanent historic interest. + +In 1844, Margaret accepted an advantageous offer to become literary +editor of the _New York Tribune_, a position which she was admirably +qualified to fill. A collection of papers from _The Tribune_, under +the title of "Literature and Art," made up her third book, published +in 1846, on the eve of her departure for Europe. + +During her residence in New York, she became greatly interested in +philanthropies, especially in the care of prisoners of her own sex. +She visited the jails and prisons, interviewed the inmates, gave them +"conversations," and wrought upon them the same miracle which she had +so often performed in refined drawing-rooms. "If she had been born to +large fortune," said Mr. Greeley, "a house of refuge for all female +outcasts desiring to return to the ways of virtue would have been one +of her most cherished and first realized conceptions." + +Early in her New York residence must also have occurred that rather +mysterious love affair with the young Hebrew, Mr. Nathan, who seems +first to have charmed her with his music and then with his heart. +After nearly sixty years, the letters which she wrote him, full of +consuming fire, have at last seen the light. From a passage in one of +them, it would seem that marriage was not contemplated by either +party, that in theory at least they took no thought of the morrow, the +bliss of the moment being held sufficient. Evidently there was no +engagement, but no one can doubt that on her part there was love. Of +course in this changing world, no such relations can be maintained for +ever, and in the end there will be an awakening, and then pain. + +In 1846, Margaret realized her life-dream and went to Europe. Destined +to a life of adventure, she was accidently separated from her party, +and spent a perilous night on Ben Lomond, without a particle of +shelter, in a drenching rain, a thrilling account of which she has +written. She visited Carlyle and, for a wonder, he let her take a +share in the conversation. To Mr. Emerson he wrote, Margaret "is very +narrow sometimes, but she is truly high." + +On her way to Italy, the goal of her ambition, she visited George Sand +and they had such a meeting as two women of genius might. She sailed +from Genoa for Naples in February, 1847, and arrived in Rome in May +following. There is much to interest a reader in her Italian life, but +the one thing which cannot be omitted is the story of her marriage to +the Marquis Ossoli. Soon after her arrival in Rome, on a visit to St. +Peter's, Margaret became separated from her friends, whom she did not +again discover at the place appointed for meeting. A gentleman seeing +her distress, offered to get her a carriage and, not finding one, +walked home with her. This was the young Marquis Ossoli, and thus +fortuitously the acquaintance began, which was continued by occasional +meetings. The summer Margaret spent in the north of Italy, and when +she returned to Rome, she took modest apartments in which she received +her friends every Monday evening, and the Marquis came very regularly. + +It was not long however before he confessed his love for her and asked +her hand in marriage. He was gently rejected, being told that he ought +to marry a younger woman, and that she would be his friend but not +his wife. He however persisted, at length won her consent, and they +were privately married in December. I follow the account of Mrs. +William Story, wife of the artist, then residing in Rome. The old +Marquis Ossoli had recently died, leaving an unsettled estate, of +which his two older sons, both in the Papal service, were the +executors. "Every one knows," says Mrs. Story, "that law is subject to +ecclesiastical influence in Rome, and that marriage with a Protestant +would be destructive of all prospect of favorable administration." + +The birth of a child a year later, at Rieti in the Appenines, whither +Margaret had retired, made secrecy seem more imperative; or, as +Margaret said, in order to defend the child "from the stings of +poverty, they were patient waiters for the restored law of the land." +The Italian Revolution of 1848 was then in progress. Ossoli her +husband, was a captain in the Civic Guard, on duty in Rome, and the +letters which she wrote him at this period of trial, were the only +fragments of her treasures recovered from the wreck in which she +perished. + +Leaving her babe with his nurse, in April following, she visited Rome +and was shut up in the siege by the French army which had been sent +to overthrow the provisional government and restore the authority of +the pope. "Ossoli took station with his men on the walls of the +Vatican garden where he remained faithfully to the end of the attack. +Margaret had entire charge of one of the hospitals.... I have walked +through the wards with her," says Mrs. Story, "and seen how comforting +was her presence to the poor suffering men. 'How long will the Signora +stay?' 'When will the Signora come again?' they eagerly asked.... They +raised themselves up on their elbows to get the last glimpse of her as +she was going away." + +In the midst of these dangers, Margaret confided to Mrs. Story the +secret of her marriage and placed in her hands the marriage +certificate and other documents relating to the affair. These papers +were afterward returned to Margaret and were lost in the wreck. + +The failure of the Revolution was the financial ruin of all those who +had staked their fortunes in it. They had much reason to be thankful +if they escaped with their lives. By the intervention of friends, the +Ossolis were dealt with very leniently. Mr. Greenough, the artist, +interested himself in their behalf and procured for them permission to +retire, outside the papal territory, to Florence. Ossoli even +obtained a small part of his patrimony. + +Except the disappointment and sorrow over the faded dream of Italian +Independence, the winter at Florence was one of the bright spots in +Margaret's life. She was proud of her husband's part in the +Revolution: "I rejoice," she says, "in all Ossoli did." She had her +babe with her and her happiness in husband and child was perfect: "My +love for Ossoli is most pure and tender, nor has any one, except my +mother or little children, loved me so genuinely as he does.... Ossoli +seems to me more lovely and good every day; our darling child is well +now, and every day more gay and playful." + +She found pleasant and congenial society: "I see the Brownings often," +she says, "and love them both more and more as I know them better. Mr. +Browning enriches every hour I spend with him, and is a most cordial, +true, and noble man. One of my most prized Italian friends, +Marchioness Arconati Visconti, of Milan, is passing the winter here, +and I see her almost every day." Moreover she was busy with a +congenial task. At the very opening of the struggle for liberty, she +planned to write a history of the eventful period, and with this +purpose, collected material for the undertaking, and already had a +large part of the work in manuscript. She finished the writing in +Florence, and much value was set upon it both by herself and by her +friends in Italy. Mrs. Story says, "in the estimation of most of those +who were in Italy at the time, the loss of Margaret's history and +notes is a great and irreparable one. No one could have possessed so +many avenues of direct information from both sides." + +When the spring opened, it was decided to return to America, partly to +negotiate directly with the publisher, but chiefly because, having +exhausted her resources, Margaret's pen must henceforth be the main +reliance of the little family. It is pathetic to know that, after +their passage had been engaged, "letters came which, had they reached +her a week earlier, would probably have induced them to remain in +Italy." + +They sailed, May 17, 1850, in a merchant vessel, the only other +passengers being the baby's nurse and Mr. Horace Sumner, a younger +brother of Senator Sumner. After a protracted and troubled voyage of +two months, the vessel arrived off the coast of New Jersey, on July +18. The "weather was thick.... By nine p. m. there was a gale, by +midnight a hurricane," and at four o'clock on the morning of July 19, +the vessel grounded on the shallow sands of Fire Island. The captain +had died of smallpox on the voyage; his widow, the mate in command of +the vessel, and four seamen reached the shore; Mr. Sumner and the +Ossolis perished. The cruel part of the tragedy is that it seems +probable every soul on board might have been saved. Life-boats, only +three miles away, did not arrive until noon; that is, after eight +precious hours had passed. Moreover, in a moment of penitence, one of +the life-boat crew said, "Oh, if we had known that any such persons of +importance were on board, we should have done our best." + +Margaret, the name by which she will always be known, had passed her +fortieth birthday at sea on this voyage. It seems a short life in +which to have crowded so much and such varied experience. She had some +trials even in her youth, but for two-thirds of her existence, she +might have been considered a favorite of fortune. In later life, she +had some battles to fight, but her triumphs were great enough to +dazzle a person with more modesty than was her endowment. She suffered +in Italy, both for her child left to strangers in the mountains, and +for her adopted country, but they were both causes, in which for her, +suffering was a joy. She did not desire to survive her husband and +child, nor to leave them behind, and, we may say, happily they all +went together. "Her life seems to me," says Col. Higginson, "on the +whole, a triumphant rather than a sad one," and that is a reasonable +verdict, however difficult to render in the presence of such a tragedy +as her untimely death. + + + + +VI + +HARRIET BEECHER STOWE + + +[Illustration: HARRIET BEECHER STOWE] + +"Is this the little woman who made this great war!" exclaimed +President Lincoln when, in 1862, Mrs. Stowe was introduced to him. +There was but one woman in America to whom this could have been said +without absurdity. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was so conspicuous a factor in +bringing on the war which abolished American slavery that to credit +these results to Mrs. Stowe was not fulsome flattery but graceful +compliment. + +There are two excellent biographies of Mrs. Stowe, one published in +1889, by her son, Rev. Charles E. Stowe, and one, in 1897, by Mrs. +Annie Fields. That work will hardly need to be done again. The object +of this sketch is to study the influences that moulded Mrs. Stowe, to +present the salient features of her career, and, incidentally, to +discover her characteristic qualities. Her fame rests upon her +literary achievements, and these are comparatively well known. Her +literary career can hardly be said to have begun until the age of +forty and, if this were the only interest her life had for us, we +could pass hastily over her youth. It will be found however that her +religious development, begun prematurely with her fourth year and +continued without consideration or discretion until at seventeen she +became a chronic invalid, gives a kind of tragic interest to her +earlier years. Her religious education may not have been unique; it +may have been characteristic of much of the religious life of New +England, but girls set at work upon the problems of their souls at the +age of four have seldom attained the distinction of having their +biographies written, so that one can study their history. + +Harriet, the second daughter and seventh child of Lyman Beecher and +Roxanna Foote, was born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1811. There +were three Mrs. Lyman Beechers of whom Roxanna Foote was the first. +The Footes were Episcopalians, Harriet, sister of Roxanna, being as +Mrs. Stowe says, "the highest of High Churchwomen who in her private +heart did not consider my father an ordained minister." Roxanna, +perhaps not so high-church, held out for two years against Dr. +Beecher's assaults upon her heart and then consented to become his +wife. + +Mrs. Beecher was a refined and cultivated lady who "read all the new +works that were published at that day," numbered painting among her +accomplishments, and whose house "was full of little works of +ingenuity and taste and skill, which had been wrought by her hand: +pictures of birds and flowers, done with minutest skill"; but her +greatest charm was a religious nature full of all gentleness and +sweetness. "In no exigency," says Dr. Beecher, "was she taken by +surprise. She was just there, quiet as an angel above." There seems to +have been but one thing which this saintly woman with an Episcopalian +education could not do to meet the expectations of a Congregational +parish, and that was that "in the weekly female prayer-meeting she +could never lead the devotions"; but from this duty she seems to have +been excused because of her known sensitiveness and timidity. + +Mrs. Beecher died when Harriet was in her fourth year, but she left an +indelible impression upon her family. Her "memory met us everywhere," +says Mrs. Stowe; "when father wished to make an appeal to our hearts +which he knew we could not resist, he spoke of mother." It had been +the mother's prayer that her sons, of whom there were six, should be +ministers, and ministers they all were. One incident Mrs. Stowe +remembered which may be supposed to have set Sunday apart as a day of +exceptional sanctity. It was that "of our all running and dancing out +before her from the nursery to the sitting-room one Sabbath morning +and her pleasant voice saying after us, 'Remember the Sabbath day to +keep it holy.'" Such early religious impressions made upon the mind of +a child of four would have faded in other surroundings, but it will be +seen that Harriet's environment gave no rest to her little soul. + +After the death of her mother, the child was sent to her grandmother +Foote's for a long visit. There she fell to the charge of her aunt +Harriet, than whom, we are told, "a more energetic human being never +undertook the education of a child." According to her views, "little +girls were to be taught to move very gently, to speak softly and +prettily, to say 'Yes ma'am' and 'No ma'am,' never to tear their +clothes, to sew and knit at regular hours, to go to church on Sunday +and make all the responses, and to come home and be catechised. I +remember those catechisings when she used to place my little cousin +Mary and myself bolt upright at her knee while black Dinah and Harvey, +the bound boy, were ranged at a respectful distance behind us.... I +became a proficient in the Church catechism and gave my aunt great +satisfaction by the old-fashioned gravity and steadiness with which I +learned to repeat it." This early training in the catechism and the +responses bore fruit in giving Mrs. Stowe a life-long fondness for the +Episcopal service and ultimately in taking her into the Episcopal +Church, of which during her last thirty years she was a communicant. +Harriet signalized her fifth year by committing to memory twenty-seven +hymns and "two long chapters of the Bible," and even more perhaps, by +accidentally discovering in the attic a discarded volume of the +"Arabian Nights," with which, she says, her fortune was made. It was a +much more suitable child's book, one would think, than the Church +catechism or Watts's hymns. + +At the age of six Harriet passed to the care of the second Mrs. Lyman +Beecher, formerly Harriet Porter, of Portland, Maine, apparently a +lady of great dignity and character. "We felt," says Mrs. Stowe, "a +little in awe of her, as if she were a strange princess rather than +our own mamma; but her voice was very sweet, her ways of speaking and +moving very graceful, and she took us up in her lap and let us play +with her beautiful hands which seemed wonderful things, made of pearl +and ornamented with strange rings." It appears she was a faithful +mother, though a little severe and repressive. Henry Ward Beecher said +of her: "She did the office-work of a mother if ever a mother did"; +she "performed to the uttermost her duties, according to her ability"; +she "was a woman of profound veneration rather than of a warm loving +nature. Therefore her prayer was invariably a prayer of deep yearning +reverence. I remember well the impression which it made on me. There +was a mystic influence about it. A sort of sympathetic hold it had on +me, but still I always felt when I went to prayer, as though I were +going into a crypt, where the sun was not allowed to come; and I +shrunk from it." To complete the portrait of this conscientious lady +who was to have the supervision of Harriet from her sixth year, the +following from a letter of one of the Beecher children is worth +quoting: "Mamma is well and don't laugh any more than she did." +Evidently a rather stern and sobering influence had come into the +Beecher family. + +"In her religion," says Mrs. Stowe, "she was distinguished by a most +unfaltering Christ-worship.... Had it not been that Dr. Payson had +set up and kept before her a tender, human, loving Christ, she would +have been only a conscientious bigot. This image, however, gave +softness and warmth to her religious life, and I have since noticed +how her Christ-enthusiasm has sprung up in the hearts of all her +children." This passage is of peculiar interest as it shows the source +of what Mrs. Stowe loves to call the "Christ-worship" which +characterized the religion of the younger Beechers. Writing at the age +of seventeen, when her soul was tossing between Scylla and Charybdis, +Harriet says: "I feel that I love God,--that is, that I love Christ"; +and in 1876, writing of her brother Henry, she says, "He and I are +Christ-worshippers, adoring him as the Image of the Invisible +God." Her son refers us to the twenty-fourth chapter of the +Minister's Wooing for a complete presentation of this subject "of +Christ-worship." Mrs. Stowe speaks of this belief as a plain departure +from ordinary Trinitarianism, as a kind of heresy which it has +required some courage to hold. The heresy seems to have consisted in +practically dropping the first and third persons in the Godhead and +accepting Christ as the only God we know or need to consider. + +As Mrs. Stowe during her adult life was an invalid, it is interesting +to have Mrs. Beecher's testimony that, on her arrival, she was met by +a lovely family of children and "with heartfelt gratitude," she says, +"I observed how cheerful and healthy they were." When Harriet was ten +years of age, she began to attend the Litchfield Academy and was +recognized as one of its brightest pupils. She especially excelled in +writing compositions and, at the age of twelve, her essay was one of +two or three selected to be read at a school exhibition. After +Harriet's had been read, Dr. Beecher turned to the teacher and asked, +"Who wrote that composition?" "Your daughter, Sir," was the reply. "It +was," says Mrs. Stowe, "the proudest moment of my life." + +"Can the immortality of the soul be proved by the light of Nature?" +was the subject of this juvenile composition, a strange choice for a +girl of twelve summers; but in this family the religious climate was +tropical, and forced development. As might have been expected, she +easily proved that nothing of immortality could be known by the light +of nature. She had been too well instructed to think otherwise. Dr. +Beecher himself had no good opinion of 'the light of nature.' "They +say," said he, "that everybody knows about God naturally. A lie. All +such ideas are by teaching." If Harriet had taken the other side of +her question and argued as every believer tries to to-day, she would +have deserved some credit for originality. Nevertheless the form of +her argument is remarkable for her years, and would not have +dishonored Dr. Beecher's next sermon. This amazing achievement of a +girl of twelve can be read in the Life of Mrs. Stowe by her son. + +From the Litchfield Academy, Harriet was sent to the celebrated Female +Seminary established by her sister Catharine at Hartford, Conn. She +here began the study of Latin and, "at the end of the first year, made +a translation of Ovid in verse which was read at the final exhibition +of the school." It was her ambition to be a poet and she began a play +called 'Cleon,' filling "blank book after blank book with this drama." +Mrs. Fields prints six pages of this poem and the specimens have more +than enough merit to convince one that the author might have attained +distinction as a poet. Her energetic sister Catharine however put an +end to this innocent diversion, saying that she must not waste her +time writing poetry but discipline her mind upon Butler's Analogy. To +enforce compliance, Harriet was assigned to teach the Analogy to a +class of girls as old as herself, "being compelled to master each +chapter just ahead of the class." This occupation, with Latin, French +and Italian, sufficiently protected her from the dissipation of +writing poetry. + +Harriet remained in the Hartford school, as pupil and teacher, from +her thirteenth to her twenty-third year. In her spiritual history, +this was an important period. It may seem that her soul had hitherto +not been neglected but as yet youth and a sunny nature had kept her +from any agonies of Christian experience. Now her time had come. No +one under the care of the stern Puritan, Catharine Beecher, would be +suffered to forget her eternal interests. Both of Mrs. Stowe's +biographers feel the necessity of making us acquainted with this +masterful lady, "whose strong, vigorous mind and tremendous +personality," says Mr. Stowe, "indelibly stamped themselves on the +sensitive, dreamy, poetic nature of her younger sister." + +It was Catharine's distinction to have written, it is claimed, the +best refutation of Edwards on the Will ever published. She was +undoubtedly the most acute and vigorous intellect in the Beecher +family. Like all the members of her remarkable family, she was +intensely religious and, at the period when Harriet passed to her +care, gloomily religious. It could not have been otherwise. She had +been engaged to marry Prof. Alexander Fisher, of Yale College, a young +man of great promise. Unhappily, he was drowned at sea, and she +believed his soul was eternally lost. It is futile to ask why Yale +College should have entrusted a professorship to a man whom the Lord +would send to perdition, or why Miss Beecher should have loved such an +abandoned character; it is enough to say that she loved him and that +she believed his soul to be lost; and was it her fault that she could +not be a cheerful companion to a young girl of thirteen? + +As we have seen, Harriet must not fritter away her time writing plays; +she must study Butler's Analogy. She must also read Baxter's Saints +Rest, than which, says Mrs. Stowe, "no book ever affected me more +powerfully. As I walked the pavements I wished that they might sink +beneath me if only I might find myself in heaven." In this mental +condition she went to her home in Litchfield to spend her vacation. +One dewy fresh Sunday morning of that period stood by itself in her +memory. "I knew," she says, "it was sacramental Sunday, and thought +with sadness that when all the good people should take the bread and +wine I should be left out. I tried hard to think of my sins and count +them up; but what with the birds, the daisies, and the brooks that +rippled by the way, it was impossible." The sermon of Dr. Beecher was +unusually sweet and tender and when he appealed to his hearers to +trust themselves to Jesus, their faithful friend, she says, "I longed +to cry out I will. Then the awful thought came over me that I had +never had any conviction of my sins and consequently could not come to +him." Happily the inspiration came to her that if she needed +conviction of sin and Jesus were such a friend, he would give it to +her; she would trust him for the whole, and she went home illumined +with joy. + +When her father returned, she fell into his arms saying, "Father, I +have given myself to Jesus and he has taken me." "Is it so?" said he. +"Then has a new flower blossomed in the kingdom this day." This is +very sweet and beautiful and it shows that Dr. Beecher had a tender +heart under his Calvinistic theology. "If she could have been let +alone," says her son, "and taught to 'look up and not down, forward +and not back, out and not in,' this religious experience might have +gone on as sweetly and naturally as the opening of a flower in the +gentle rays of the sun. But unfortunately this was not possible at a +time when self-examination was carried to an extreme that was +calculated to drive a nervous and sensitive child well-nigh +distracted. First, even her sister Catharine was afraid that there +might be something wrong in the case of a lamb that had come into the +fold without being first chased all over the lot by the shepherd: +great stress being laid on what was called being under conviction. +Then also the pastor of the First Church in Hartford, a bosom friend +of Dr. Beecher, looked with melancholy and suspicious eyes on this +unusual and doubtful path to heaven." + +Briefly stated, these two spiritual guides put Harriet through a +process which brought her to a sense of sin that must have filled +their hearts with joy. She reached the stage when she wrote to her +brother Edward: "My whole life is one continued struggle; I do nothing +right. I am beset behind and before, and my sins take away all my +happiness." + +Unfortunately for her, it was at this stage of Harriet's religious +experience that Dr. Beecher was called to Boston to stem the rising +tide of Unitarianism, with its easy notions about conviction of sin +and other cardinal elements of a true faith. To be thrown into the +fervors of a crusade was just the experience which Harriet's heated +brain did not need. Her life at this period was divided between +Hartford and Boston, but her heart went with Dr. Beecher to his great +enterprise in Boston, or, as Mrs. Fields says, "This period in Boston +was the time when Harriet felt she drew nearer to her father than at +any other period of her life." + +It will not be necessary to go farther into this controversy than to +show what a cauldron it was for the family of Dr. Beecher. In his +autobiography, Dr. Beecher says, "From the time Unitarianism began to +show itself in this country, it was as fire in my bones." After his +call to Boston, he writes again, "My mind had been heating, heating, +heating. Now I had a chance to strike." The situation that confronted +him in Boston rather inflamed than subdued his spirit. Let Mrs. Stowe +tell the story herself. "Calvinism or orthodoxy," she says, "was the +despised and persecuted form of faith. It was the dethroned royal +family wandering like a permitted mendicant in the city where it once +held high court, and Unitarianism reigned in its stead. All the +literary men of Massachusetts were Unitarians. All the trustees and +professors of Harvard College were Unitarians. All the elite of wealth +and fashion crowded Unitarian churches. The judges on the bench were +Unitarian, giving decisions by which the peculiar features of church +organization, so carefully ordained by the Pilgrim Fathers, had been +nullified. The dominant majority entered at once into possession of +churches and church property, leaving the orthodox minority to go out +into schoolhouses and town halls, and build their churches as best +they could." + +We can hardly suppose that Harriet had read the decision of the court, +or that she deemed it necessary; she knew it was wrong by instinct, +and the iron entered her soul. The facts appear to have been as +follows: The old parishes in New England included a given territory +like a school district or a voting precinct. Members of a given +parish, if they were communicants, formed themselves into a "church" +which was the church of that parish. The court decided that this +church always remained the church of that parish. Members might +withdraw, but they withdrew as individuals. They could not withdraw +the church, not even if they constituted a majority. + +The correctness of this decision does not concern us here; it is +enough that Dr. Beecher thought it wrong and that Harriet thought it +wrong. "The effect of all this," she says, "upon my father's mind was +to keep him at a white heat of enthusiasm. His family prayers at this +period, departing from the customary forms of unexcited hours, became +often upheavings of passionate emotion, such as I shall never forget. +'Come, Lord Jesus,' he would say, 'here where the bones of the fathers +rest, here where the crown has been torn from thy brow, come and +recall thy wandering children. Behold thy flock scattered upon the +mountain--these sheep, what have they done! Gather them, gather them, +O good shepherd, for their feet stumble upon the dark mountains.'" + +The fierce heat of this period was too much for a tender plant like +Harriet. For her state of mind, even Catharine thought the Boston home +life was not entirely suitable. It would be better for her in +Hartford. "Harriet will have young society here which she cannot have +at home, and I think cheerful and amusing friends will do much for +her." Catharine had received a letter from Harriet which, she says, +"made me feel uneasy," as well it might. Harriet had written her +sister: "I don't know as I am fit for anything, and I have thought +that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my +faults perish in the grave.... Sometimes I could not sleep, and have +groaned and cried till midnight, while in the daytime I tried to +appear cheerful, and succeeded so well that papa reproved me for +laughing so much." Life was too serious to permit even an affectation +of gaiety. "The atmosphere of that period," says Mrs. Field, "and the +terrible arguments of her father and of her sister Catharine were +sometimes more than she could endure." Her brother Edward was helpful +and comforting. She thanks him for helping her solve some of her +problems, but the situation was critical: "I feared that if you left +me thus I might return to the same dark, desolate state in which I had +been all summer. I felt that my immortal interest, my happiness for +both worlds, was depending on the turn my feelings might take." + +Dr. Beecher was too much absorbed with his mission to observe what was +going on in his own family, unless there chanced to be an unexpected +outburst of gaiety. "Every leisure hour was beset by people who came +with earnest intention to express to him those various phases of +weary, restless wandering desire proper to an earnest people whose +traditional faith has been broken up.... Inquirers were constantly +coming with every imaginable theological problem ... he was to be seen +all day talking with whoever would talk ... till an hour or two before +the time (of service), when he would rush up to his study; ... just as +the last stroke of the bell was dying away, he would emerge from the +study with his coat very much awry, come down stairs like a hurricane, +stand impatiently protesting while female hands that ever lay in wait +adjusted his cravat and settled his collar ... and hooking wife or +daughter like a satchel on his arm, away he would start on such a race +through the streets as left neither brain nor breath till the church +was gained." Such, very much abbreviated, is Mrs. Stowe's portrait of +her father at this period. It is a good example of her power of +delineation; but what a life was this for a half distracted girl like +Harriet! Much better for her would have been the old serene, peaceful, +quiet life of Litchfield. + +She had several kinds of religious trouble. It troubled her that in +the book of Job, God should seem "to have stripped a dependent +creature of all that renders life desirable, and then to have answered +his complaints from the whirlwind, and, instead of showing mercy and +pity, to have overwhelmed him with a display of his power and +justice." It troubled her that when she allowed herself to take a +milder view of deity, "I feel," she says, "less fear of God and, in +view of sin, I feel only a sensation of grief." This was an alarming +decline. It troubled her again that she loved literature, whereas she +ought only to care for religion. She writes to Edward: "You speak of +your predilections for literature being a snare to you. I have found +it so myself." Evidently, as she has before said, she was beset behind +and before. What was perhaps worst of all, the heavens seemed closed +to her. Calvinism was pure agnosticism; and she had been educated a +Calvinist. There was no 'imminent God,' in all and through all, for +Calvinism; that came in with Transcendentalism, a form of thought +which never seems to have touched Mrs. Stowe. She seems always to +have felt, as at this period she writes Edward, that "still, after +all, God is a being afar off." Nevertheless, there was Christ, but +Christ at this period was also afar off: "I feel that I love +God,--that is that I love Christ,--that I find happiness in it, and +yet it is not that kind of comfort which would arise from free +communication of my wants and sorrows to a friend. I sometimes wish +that the Savior were visibly present in this world, that I might go to +him for a solution of some of my difficulties." + +It will be seen from this passage that Harriet's storm-tossed soul was +settling down upon Christ as the nearest approach to God one could +gain in the darkness, and with this she taught herself to be content. +"So, after four years of struggling and suffering," writes her son, +"she returns to the place where she started from as a child of +thirteen. It has been like watching a ship with straining masts and +storm-beaten sails, buffeted by the waves, making for the harbor, and +coming at last to quiet anchorage." One cannot help reflecting how +different would have been her experience in the household of Dr. +Channing; but Dr. Beecher would sooner have trusted her in a den of +wolves. + +Harriet was seventeen years old when, mentally, she reached her quiet +anchorage but, physically as might be expected, it was with a +constitution undermined and with health broken. "She had not grown to +be a strong woman," says Mrs. Fields; "the apparently healthy and +hearty child had been suffered to think and feel, to study and starve +(as we say), starve for relaxation, until she became a woman of much +suffering and many inadequacies of physical life." A year or two later +Harriet herself writes, "This inner world of mine has become worn out +and untenable," and again, "About half my time I am scarcely alive.... +I have everything but good health.... Thought, intense emotional +thought, has been my disease." + +At the end of six restless and stormy years, in 1832, Dr. Beecher +resigned his Boston pastorate to accept the presidency of Lane +Theological Seminary at Cincinnati, Ohio, Catharine and Harriet +accompanying the family with the purpose of establishing a high grade +school for young women. The plan was successfully carried out, and the +"Western Female Institute" marked a new stage in education west of the +Alleghenies. One of Harriet's early achievements at Cincinnati was the +publication of a text-book in geography, her first attempt at +authorship. She made her entry into the field of imaginative +literature by gaining a prize of $50 for a story printed in _The +Western Magazine_. + +Her connection with the "Western Female Institute" was brief, and the +prosecution of a literary career was postponed, by her marriage in +1836, with Prof. Calvin E. Stowe; or, as she announces this momentous +event: "about half an hour more and your old friend, schoolmate, +sister, etc., will cease to be Hattie Beecher and change to nobody +knows who." + +The married life of Mrs. Stowe covered a period of fifty years and was +a conspicuously happy one. Prof. Stowe, who seemed so much like a myth +to the general public, was a man of great learning and keen +intelligence, unimaginative as he says himself, but richly endowed +with "a certain broad humor and drollery." His son tells us that he +was "an inimitable mimic and story-teller. No small proportion of Mrs. +Stowe's success as a literary woman is to be attributed to him." The +Sam Lawson stories are said to be a little more his than hers, being +"told as they came from Mr. Stowe's lips with little or no +alteration." For her scholarly husband, Mrs. Stowe had the highest +appreciation and the prettiest way of expressing it: "If you were not +already my dearly loved husband," she writes him, "I should certainly +fall in love with you." Prof. Stowe could also write a love-letter: +"There is no woman like you in this wide world. Who else has so much +talent with so little self-conceit; so much reputation with so little +affectation; so much literature with so little nonsense; so much +enterprise with so little extravagance; so much tongue with so little +scold; so much sweetness with so little softness; so much of so many +things and so little of so many other things." If a man's wife is to +have her biography written, he will not be sorry that he has sent her +some effusive love-letters. + +Fourteen years of Mrs. Stowe's beautiful married life were spent in +Cincinnati, with many vicissitudes of ill-health, some poverty, and +the birth of six children, three sons and three daughters. One can get +some idea both of the happiness and the hardship of that life from her +letters. In 1843, seven years after marriage, she writes, "Our straits +for money this year are unparalleled even in our annals. Even our +bright and cheery neighbor Allen begins to look blue, and says $600 is +the very most we can hope to collect of our salary, once $1,200." +Again she writes, "I am already half sick from confinement to the +house and overwork. If I should sew every day for a month to come I +should not be able to accomplish half of what is to be done." There +were trials enough during this period, but her severest affliction +came in its last year, in the loss of an infant son by cholera. That +was in 1849, when Cincinnati was devastated; when during the months of +June, July and August more than nine thousand persons died of cholera +within three miles of her house, and among them she says, "My Charley, +my beautiful, loving, gladsome baby, so loving, so sweet, so full of +life and hope and strength." + +In these years, Mrs. Stowe's life was too full of domestic care to +permit many excursions into the field of literature. In 1842, a +collection of sketches was published by the Harpers under the title of +the "Mayflower." Occasionally she contributed a bright little story to +a monthly or an annual. An amusing account is given of the writing of +one of these stories, by a lady who volunteered to serve as amanuensis +while Mrs. Stowe dictated, and at the same time supervised a new girl +in the kitchen: "You may now write," said Mrs. Stowe, "'Her lover +wept with her, nor dared he again touch the point so sacredly +guarded--(Mina, roll that crust a little thinner). He spoke in +soothing tones.--(Mina, poke the coals).'" + +These literary efforts, produced under difficulties, inspired Prof. +Stowe with great confidence in her genius. He wrote her in 1842, "My +dear, you must be a literary woman. It is so written in the book of +fate." Again he writes, "God has written it in his book that you must +be a literary woman, and who are we that we should contend against +God! You must therefore make all your calculations to spend the rest +of your life with your pen." Nevertheless the next eight years pass as +the last six have passed without apparently bringing the dream of a +literary career nearer fulfilment. With a few strokes of the pen, Mrs. +Stowe draws a picture of her life at this period: "I was married when +I was twenty-five years old to a man rich in Greek and Hebrew and, +alas, rich in nothing else.... During long years of struggling with +poverty and sickness, and a hot, debilitating climate, my children +grew up around me. The nursery and the kitchen were my principal +fields of labor. Some of my friends, pitying my trials, copied and +sent a number of little sketches from my pen to certain liberally +paying annuals, with my name. With the first money that I earned in +this way I bought a feather bed! for as I had married into poverty and +without a dowry, and as my husband had only a large library of books +and a good deal of learning, the bed and pillows were thought the most +profitable investment. After this I thought that I had discovered the +philosopher's stone. So when a new carpet or mattress was going to be +needed, or when at the close of the year it began to be evident that +my family accounts, like poor Dora's, 'wouldn't add up,' then I used +to say to my faithful friend and factotum Anna, who shared all my joys +and sorrows, 'Now, if you will keep the babies and attend to things in +the house for a day, I'll write a piece and then we'll be out of the +scrape.' So I became an author,--very modest I do assure you." + +The hardships and privations of Mrs. Stowe's residence in Cincinnati +were more than compensated to her by the opportunity it afforded for +intimate acquaintance with the negro character and personal +observation of the institution of slavery. Only the breadth of the +Ohio river separated her from Kentucky, a slave State. While yet a +teacher in the Female Institute, she spent a vacation upon a Kentucky +estate, afterward graphically described in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' as Col. +Shelby's plantation. A companion upon this visit said, "Harriet did +not seem to notice anything in particular that happened.... +Afterwards, in reading 'Uncle Tom,' I recognized scene after scene of +that visit portrayed with the most minute fidelity." A dozen years +before there were any similar demonstrations in Boston, she witnessed +in 1838, proslavery riots in Cincinnati when Birney's Abolition press +was wrecked and when Henry Ward Beecher, then a young Cincinnati +editor, went armed to and from his office. She had had in her service +a slave girl whose master was searching the city for her, and whose +rescue had been effected by Prof. Stowe and Henry Ward Beecher who, +"both armed, drove the fugitive, in a covered wagon, by night, by +unfrequented roads, twelve miles back into the country, and left her +in safety." This incident was the basis of "the fugitive's escape from +Tom Loker and Marks in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.'" + +Lane Theological Seminary, in which Prof. Stowe held a chair, had, it +is said, "become a hot-bed of abolition." Partly for protection, a +colony of negroes had settled about the seminary, and these families, +says Mrs. Stowe, "became my favorite resort in cases of emergency. If +anyone wishes to have a black face look handsome, let them be left as +I have been, in feeble health, in oppressive hot weather, with a sick +baby in arms, and two other ones in the nursery, and not a servant in +the whole house to do a turn." "Time would fail me," writes Mrs. +Stowe, "to tell you all that I learned incidentally of the slave +system in the history of various slaves who came into my family, and +of the underground railroad which, I may say, ran through our house." + +A New England education alone would not have given Mrs. Stowe the +material to write the story of "Uncle Tom." A youth passed on a +Southern plantation would have made her callous and indifferent, as it +did so many tender-hearted women. A New England woman of genius, +educated in New England traditions, was providentially transferred to +the heated border line between freedom and slavery and, during +eighteen years, made to hear a thousand authentic incidents of the +patriarchal system from the victims themselves. Then "Uncle Tom's +Cabin" could be written. Perhaps one other element of preparation +ought to be mentioned since Mrs. Stowe laid stress upon it herself. +The woman who should write "Uncle Tom's Cabin" needed to be a mother +who had known what it is to have a child snatched from her arms +irrevocably and without a moment's notice. It was at her baby's "dying +bed and at his grave that I learned," she says, "what a poor slave +mother may feel when her child is torn away from her. In those depths +of sorrow which seemed to me immeasurable, it was my only prayer to +God that such anguish might not be suffered in vain.... I allude to +this because I have often felt that much that is in that book ('Uncle +Tom') had its roots in the awful scenes and bitter sorrows of that +summer." + +In 1850, this western life, with its mixture of sweet and bitter +waters, came to an end. The climate of Cincinnati was unfavorable to +the health of both Mr. and Mrs. Stowe, and Mr. Stowe accepted a +professorship in Bowdoin College, at the small salary of $1,000 a +year, declining at the same time an offer from New York city of +$2,300. Why he accepted the smaller salary is not said. Certainly it +assured him his old felicity, his Master's blessing upon the poor. The +situation, however, was better than it seems, as Mrs. Stowe had +written enough to have confidence in her pen, and she purposed to +make the family income at least $1,700 by her writings. She +accomplished much more than that as we shall presently see. + +From the car window, as one passes through Brunswick, Maine, he can +see the house in which Mrs. Stowe passed the three following very +happy years, in which her seventh child was born, a son who lived to +be her biographer, and in which she wrote "Uncle Tom's Cabin." It will +be remembered that the year 1850 was made memorable by the enactment +of the Fugitive Slave Law. How the attempted execution of this law +affected Mrs. Stowe can be anticipated. "To me," she says, "it is +incredible, amazing, mournful. I feel as if I should be willing to +sink with it, were all this sin and misery to sink in the sea.... I +sobbed, aloud in one pew and Mrs. Judge Reeves in another." + +In this mood, Mrs. Stowe received a letter from Mrs. Edward Beecher +saying, "Hattie, if I could use a pen as you can, I would write +something to make this nation feel what an accursed thing slavery is." +Her children remember that at the reading of this letter, Mrs. Stowe +rose from her chair, crushing the letter in her hand, and said, "I +will write something,--I will if I live." The fulfilment of this vow +was "Uncle Tom's Cabin." + +This story was begun in _The National Era_, on June 5, 1851; it was +announced to run through three months and it occupied ten. "I could +not control the story," said Mrs. Stowe; "it wrote itself." Again, she +said, "I the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin!' No, indeed. The Lord +himself wrote it, and I was but the humblest instrument in his hand." +It has been said that "'Uncle Tom's Cabin' made the crack of the +slave-driver's whip and the cries of the tortured blacks ring in every +household in the land, till human hearts could bear it no longer," and +that it "made the enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law an +impossibility." + +It is possible to discuss the question whether "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is +a work of art, just as it is possible to discuss whether the Sermon on +the Mount is a work of art, but not whether the story was effective, +not whether it hit the mark and accomplished its purpose. Mrs. Stowe's +story is not so much one story as a dozen; in the discriminating +language of her son, it is "a series of pictures," and who will deny +that the scenes are skilfully portrayed! + +Mrs. Stowe did not know that she had made her fortune; she had not +written for money; nevertheless when the story was republished in a +volume, her ten per cent. of the profits brought her $10,000 in four +months. It went to its third edition in ten days, and one hundred and +twenty editions, or more than 300,000 copies were sold in this country +within one year. This astounding popularity was exceeded in Great +Britain. Not being protected by copyright, eighteen publishing houses +issued editions varying from 6d to 15s a copy, and in twelve months, +more than a million and a half of copies had been sold in the British +dominions. The book was also translated and published in nineteen +European languages. It was dramatized and brought out in New York in +1852, and, a year later it was running still. "Everybody goes," it was +said, "night after night and nothing can stop it." In London, in 1852, +it was the attraction at two theatres. + +What the public thought of the story is evident, nor did competent +judges dissent. Longfellow said: "It is one of the greatest triumphs +recorded in literary history, to say nothing of the higher triumph of +its moral effect." George Sand said: "Mrs. Stowe is all instinct; it +is the very reason that she appears to some to have no talent.... I +cannot say that she has talent as one understands it in the world of +letters, but she has genius as humanity feels the need of it,--the +genius of goodness, not that of the man of letters, but of the +saint.... In matters of art, there is but one rule, to paint and to +move." I give but a paragraph of a paper which Senator Sumner called +"a most remarkable tribute, such as was hardly ever offered by such a +genius to any living mortal." + +Apologists for the slave system have declared that "Uncle Tom's Cabin" +is a libel upon the system. One must do that before he can begin his +apology; but the remarkable fact is that not even in the South was the +libel detected at the first. That was an after-thought. Whittier knew +a lady who read the story "to some twenty young ladies, daughters of +slave-holders, near New Orleans and amid the scenes described in it, +and they with one accord pronounced it true." It was not till the sale +of the book had run to over 100,000 copies that a reaction set in and +then, strange to say, the note of warning was sounded by that +infallible authority upon American affairs, the London Times. + +In 1852, the year following the publication of "Uncle Tom" Prof. Stowe +accepted a chair in the Theological Seminary at Andover, and that +village became the home of the family during the ten following happy +years. In 1853, Mr. and Mrs. Stowe went to England upon the invitation +of Anti-Slavery friends who guaranteed and considerably overpaid the +expenses of the trip. "Should Mrs. Stowe conclude to visit Europe," +wrote Senator Sumner, "she will have a triumph." The prediction was +fulfilled. At Liverpool she is met by friends and breakfasted with a +little company of thirty or forty people; at Glasgow, she drinks tea +with two thousand; at Edinburgh there was "another great tea party," +and she was presented with a "national penny offering consisting of a +thousand golden sovereigns on a magnificent silver salver." She had +the Highlands yet to see as the guest of the Duke of Argyll, not to +mention London and Paris. After five months, she sailed from Liverpool +on her return, and is it any wonder that she wrote, "Almost sadly as a +child might leave its home, I left the shores of kind, strong Old +England, the mother of us all!" + +In 1856, Mrs. Stowe visited Europe a second time for the purpose of +securing an English copyright upon "Dred," having learned something of +business by her experience with "Uncle Tom." It will be interesting +to know that in England "Dred" was considered the better story, that +100,000 copies of it were sold there in four weeks, and that her +English publisher issued it in editions of 125,000 copies each. "After +that," writes Mrs. Stowe, "who cares what the critics say?" + +She was abroad nearly a year, visiting France, Switzerland, and Italy, +and returned in June, 1857, to experience another sad bereavement. Her +son Henry was a Freshman in Dartmouth college and, while bathing in +the Connecticut river, he was drowned. This was a severe trial to Mrs. +Stowe and the more so because, whatever her religion may have done for +her, the theology in which she had been educated gave no comfort to +her soul. "Distressing doubts as to Henry's spiritual state were +rudely thrust upon my soul." These doubts she was able to master at +least temporarily, by assuming that they were temptations of the +devil, but three years later in Florence, on a third voyage to Europe, +she wrote her husband, in reply to his allusions to Henry, "Since I +have been in Florence, I have been distressed by inexpressible +yearnings for him,--such sighings and outreachings, with a sense of +utter darkness and separation, not only from him but from all +spiritual communion with my God." It will be interesting to know that +relief was brought her in this painful crisis, by the ministrations of +spiritualism. + +Mrs. Stowe returned in 1860 from her third visit to Europe to find the +country hovering upon the verge of Civil War. The war brought her +another sore bereavement. At the battle of Gettysburg, her son, Capt. +Frederick Stowe, was struck by the fragment of a shell and, though the +wound healed, he never really recovered. His end was sufficiently +tragic. With the hope of improving his health by a long sea voyage, he +sailed from New York for San Francisco by way of Cape Horn. That he +reached San Francisco in safety, writes his brother, "is known: but +that is all. No word from him or concerning him has ever reached the +loving hearts that have waited so anxiously for it, and of his +ultimate fate nothing is known." Whatever may have been the "spiritual +state" of this son, Mrs. Stowe had now somewhat modernized her +theology and could say, "An endless infliction for past sins was once +the doctrine that we now generally reject.... Of one thing I am +sure,--probation does not end with this life." To stamp out that very +heresy had been no small part of Dr. Beecher's mission in Boston. + +In 1863, Prof. Stowe having resigned his chair in Andover, Mrs. Stowe +removed with her family to Hartford where for the remaining +thirty-three years of her life, she made her summer home. The winter +of 1866, she spent with her husband in Florida and, the year +following, she bought in that semi-tropical state an orange orchard, +the fruit of which the year previous had "brought $2,000 as sold at +the wharf." Here for sixteen winters Mr. and Mrs. Stowe made their +home, until her "poor rabbi," as she affectionately calls him, became +too feeble to bear the long journey from Hartford. There she built a +small Episcopal church and she invites her brother Charles to become +an Episcopalian and come and be her minister. + +Her son says that "Mrs. Stowe had some years before this joined the +Episcopal church for the purpose of attending the same communion as +her daughters." That she desired to attend the same communion as her +daughters does not seem a sufficient reason for leaving the communion +of her husband. Certainly, she had other reasons. From her fourth +year, she had known the service and, as read by her grandmother at +that time, its prayers "had a different effect upon me," she says, +"from any other prayers I heard in early life." Moreover, she had a +mission to the negro race and believed that the Episcopal service is +specially adapted to their needs: "If my tasks and feelings did not +incline me toward the Church," she writes her brother, "I should still +choose it as the best system for training immature minds such as those +of our negroes. The system was composed with reference to the wants of +the laboring class of England, at a time when they were as ignorant as +our negroes are now." + +The picture of her southern life which she gives in a letter to George +Eliot, is very attractive, her husband "sitting on the veranda reading +all day," but during these years, Mrs. Stowe must have spent much of +her own time at a writing-table since, for the ten years after 1867, +when the Florida life began, she published a volume, sometimes two +volumes, a year. In 1872, she was tempted by the Boston Lecture Bureau +to give readings from her own works in the principal cities of New +England, and the following year, the course was repeated in the cities +of the West. Her audiences were to her amazing. "And how they do +laugh! We get into regular gales," she writes her lonely husband at +home. + +Her seventieth birthday was celebrated at a gathering of two hundred +of the leading literary men and women of the land, at the residence of +Ex-Governor Claflin in Newton. There were poems by Whittier, Dr. +Holmes, J. T. Trowbridge, Mrs. Whitney, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Mrs. +Fields, and others, many excellent speeches, and finally a speech by +the little woman herself. This garden party, says her son, was the +last public appearance of Mrs. Stowe. + +Her "rabbi" left her a widow in 1886, dying at the age of 84. Mrs. +Stowe survived him ten years, dying in 1896, at the age of 85, leaving +behind her a name loved and honored upon two continents. + + + + +VII + +LOUISA MAY ALCOTT + + +[Illustration: LOUISA MAY ALCOTT] + +Miss Alcott has been called, perhaps truly, the most popular +story-teller for children, in her generation. Like those elect souls +whom the apostle saw arrayed in white robes, she came up through great +tribulation, paying dearly in labor and privation for her successes, +but one must pronounce her life happy and fortunate, since she lived +to enjoy her fame and fortune twenty years, to witness the sale of a +million volumes of her writings, to receive more than two hundred +thousand dollars from her publishers, and thereby to accomplish the +great purpose upon which as a girl she had set her heart, which was, +to see her father and mother comfortable in their declining years. + +Successful as Miss Alcott was as a writer, she was greater as a woman, +and the story of her life is as interesting,--as full of tragedy and +comedy,--as the careers of her heroes and heroines. In fact, we have +reason to believe that the adventures of her characters are often not +so much invented as remembered, the pranks and frolics of her boys +and girls being episodes from her own youthful experience. In the +preface to "Little Women," the most charming of her books, she tells +us herself that the most improbable incidents are the least imaginary. +The happy girlhood which she portrays was her own, in spite of +forbidding conditions. The struggle in which her cheerful nature +extorted happiness from unwilling fortune, gives a dramatic interest +to her youthful experiences, as her literary disappointments and +successes do to the years of her maturity. + +Miss Alcott inherited a name which her father's genius had made known +on both sides of the sea, before her own made it famous in a hundred +thousand households. Alcott is a derivative from Alcocke, the name by +which Mr. Alcott himself was known in his boyhood. John Alcocke, born +in New Haven, Ct., married Mary, daughter of Rev. Abraham Pierson, +first president of Yale College. He was a man of considerable fortune +and left 1,200 acres of land to his six children, one of whom was +Capt. John Alcocke, a man of some distinction in the colonial service. +Joseph Chatfield Alcocke, son of Capt. John, married Anna, sister of +Rev. Tillotson Bronson, D.D. Of this marriage, Amos Bronson Alcott, +father of Louisa, was born, Nov. 29, 1799. The fortunes of Joseph +Chatfield Alcocke were those of other small farmers of the period, but +Mrs. Alcocke could not forget that she was the sister of a college +graduate, and it was worth something to her son to know that he was +descended from the president of a college. The mother and son early +settled it that the boy should be a scholar, and the father loyally +furthered their ambitions, borrowing of his acquaintances such books +as he discovered and bringing them home for the delectation of his +studious son. At the age of thirteen, Bronson became a pupil in a +private school kept by his uncle, Dr. Bronson, and at eighteen, he set +out for Virginia with the secret purpose of teaching if opportunity +offered, at the same time taking along a peddler's trunk out of which +to turn an honest penny and pay the expenses of his journey. +Circumstances did not favor his becoming a Virginia teacher, but +between his eighteenth and twenty-third years, he made several +expeditions into the Southern States as a Yankee peddler, with rather +negative financial results, but with much enlargement of his +information and improvement of his rustic manners. Mr. Alcott was +rather distinguished for his high-bred manners and, on a visit to +England, there is an amusing incident of his having been mistaken for +some member of the titled aristocracy. + +At the age of twenty-five, Mr. Alcott began his career as a teacher in +an Episcopal Academy at Cheshire, Ct. His family were Episcopalians, +and he had been confirmed at sixteen. Since the age of eighteen when +he started for Virginia as a candidate for a school, he had been +theorizing upon the art of teaching and had thought out many of the +principles of what, a century later, began to be called the "New +Education." He undertook, perhaps too rapidly, to apply his theories +in the conduct of the Cheshire Academy. His experiments occasioned a +vast amount of controversy, in which Connecticut conservatism gained a +victory, and Mr. Alcott retired from the school at the end of two +years' service. His results however had been sufficient to convince +him of the soundness of his principles, and to launch him upon the +troubled career of educational reform. + +Among a few intelligent friends and sympathizers who rallied to Mr. +Alcott's side in this controversy, was Rev. Samuel J. May, a Unitarian +minister then of Brooklyn, Ct., at whose house, in 1827, Mr. Alcott +met Mr. May's sister Abbie, who shared fully her brother's enthusiasm +for the new education and its persecuted apostle. Miss May began her +relations with Mr. Alcott as his admirer and champion, a dangerous +part for an enthusiastic young lady to play, as the sequel proved +when, three years later, she became Mrs. Alcott. + +Mrs. Alcott was the daughter of a Boston merchant, Col. Joseph May, +and his wife, Dorothy Sewall, daughter of Samuel Sewall and his wife, +Elizabeth Quincy, sister of Dorothy Quincy, wife of John Hancock. By +the marriage of Joseph May and Dorothy Sewall, two very distinguished +lines of ancestry had been united. Under her father's roof, Mrs. +Alcott had enjoyed every comfort and the best of social advantages. +She was tall, had a fine physique, good intellect, warm affections, +and generous sympathies, but it would have astonished her to have been +told that she was bringing to the marriage altar more than she +received; and however much it may have cost her to be the wife of an +unworldly idealist, it was precisely his unworldly idealism that first +won her admiration and then gained her heart. + +Life may have been harder for Mrs. Alcott than she anticipated, but +she knew very well that she was abjuring riches. Two years before her +marriage, her brother had written her: "Mr. Alcott's mind and heart +are so much occupied with other things that poverty and riches do not +seem to concern him much." She had known Mr. Alcott three years and +had enjoyed ample opportunity to make this observation herself. +Indeed, two months after her marriage, she wrote her brother, "My +husband is the perfect personification of modesty and moderation. I am +not sure that we shall not blush into obscurity and contemplate into +starvation." That she had not repented of her choice a year later, may +be judged from a letter to her brother on the first anniversary of her +marriage: "It has been an eventful year,--a year of trial, of +happiness, of improvement. I can wish no better fate to any sister of +my sex than has attended me since my entrance into the conjugal +state." + +That Mr. Alcott, then in his young manhood, had qualities which, for a +young lady of refinement and culture, would compensate for many +privations is evident. Whether he was one of the great men of his +generation or not, there is no doubt he seemed so. When, in 1837, Dr. +Bartol came to Boston, Mr. Emerson asked him whom he knew in the +city, and said: "There is but one man, Mr. Alcott." Dr. Bartol seems +to have come to much the same opinion. He says: "Alcott belonged to +the Christ class: his manners were the most gentle and gracious, under +all fair or unfair provocation, I ever beheld; he had a rare inborn +piety and a god-like incapacity in the purity of his eyes to behold +iniquity." + +These qualities were not visible to the public and have no commercial +value, but that Mr. Alcott had them is confirmed by the beautiful +domestic life of the Alcotts, by the unabated love and devotion of +Mrs. Alcott to her husband in all trials, and the always high and +always loyal appreciation with which Louisa speaks of her father, even +when perhaps smiling at his innocent illusions. The character of Mr. +Alcott is an important element in the life of Louisa because she was +his daughter, and because, being unmarried, her life and fortunes were +his, or those of the Alcott family. She had no individual existence. + +Two years after the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Alcott, Louisa, their +second daughter was born in Germantown, Pa., where Mr. Alcott was in +charge of a school belonging to the Society of Friends, or Quakers. +The date was November 29, 1832, also Mr. Alcott's birthday, always +observed as a double festival in the family. In 1834, Mr. Alcott +opened his celebrated school in Masonic Temple in Boston, Mass., under +the auspices of Dr. Channing and with the assured patronage of some of +the most cultivated and influential families in the city. As +assistants in this school, he had first Miss Sophia Peabody afterward +Mrs. Hawthorne, her sister Miss Elizabeth Peabody, and finally +Margaret Fuller. + +The school opened prosperously and achieved remarkable success until, +in 1837, the publication of Mr. Alcott's "Conversations on the +Gospels" shocked the piety of Boston newspapers, whose persistent and +virulent attacks frightened the public and caused the withdrawal of +two-thirds of the pupils. Mr. Emerson came to Mr. Alcott's defence, +saying: "He is making an experiment in which all the friends of +education are interested," and asking, "whether it be wise or just to +add to the anxieties of this enterprise a public clamor against some +detached sentences of a book which, on the whole, is pervaded by +original thought and sincere piety." In a private note, Mr. Emerson +urged Mr. Alcott to give up his school, as the people of Boston were +not worthy of him. Mr. Alcott had spent more than the income of the +school in its equipment, creating debts which Louisa afterward paid; +all his educational ideals were at stake, and he could not accept +defeat easily. However, in 1839, a colored girl was admitted to the +school, and all his pupils were withdrawn, except the little negress +and four whites, three of whom were his own daughters. So ended the +Temple school. The event was very fateful for the Alcott family, but, +much as it concerned Mrs. Alcott, there can be no doubt she much +preferred that the school should end thus, than that Mr. Alcott should +yield to public clamor on either of the issues which wrecked the +enterprise. + +Louisa was seven years old when this misfortune occurred which shaped +the rest of her life, fixing the straitened circumstances in which she +was to pass her youth and preparing the burdens which ultimately were +to be lifted by her facile pen. Happily the little Alcotts, of whom +there were three, were too young to feel the perplexities that +harassed their parents and their early years could hardly have been +passed more pleasantly or profitably if they had been the daughters of +millionaires. The family lived very comfortably amidst a fine circle +of relatives and friends in Boston, preached and practised a +vegetarian gospel,--rice without sugar and graham meal without butter +or molasses,--monotonous but wholesome, spent their summers with +friends at Scituate and, in town or country, partly owing to the +principles of the new education, partly to the preoccupation of the +parents, the children of the family were left in large measure to the +teaching of nature and their own experience. + +Very abundant moral instruction there was in this apostolic family, +both by example and precept, but the young disciples were expected to +make their own application of the principles. The result, in the case +of Louisa, was to develop a girl of very enterprising and adventurous +character, who might have been mistaken for a boy from her sun-burned +face, vigorous health, and abounding animal spirits. It was her pride +to drive her hoop around the Common before breakfast and she tells us +that she admitted to her social circle no girl who could not climb a +tree and no boy whom she had not beaten in a race. Her autobiography +of this period, she has given us, very thinly disguised, in "Poppy's +Pranks." + +Meanwhile, her mental faculties were not neglected. Mr. Alcott began +the education of his children, in a kindergarten way, almost in their +infancy, and before his Boston school closed, Louisa had two or three +years in it as a pupil. What his method of education could do with a +child of eight years is shown by a poem written by Louisa at that age. +The family were then living in Concord, in the house which, in "Little +Women," is celebrated as "Meg's first home." One early Spring day, +Louisa found in the garden a robin, chilled and famished, and wrote +these lines: + + "Welcome, welcome, little stranger, + Fear no harm, and fear no danger; + We are glad to see you here, + For you sing, Sweet Spring is near. + + Now the white snow melts away; + Now the flowers blossom gay: + Come, dear bird, and build your nest, + For we love our robin best." + +It will be remembered that this literary faculty, unusual at the age +of eight, had been attained by a girl in the physical condition of an +athlete, who could climb a tree like a squirrel. + +Readers of "Little Women" will remember what a child's paradise "Meg's +first home" was, with its garden full of fruit-trees and shade, and +its old empty barn which the children alternately turned into a +drawing-room for company, a gymnasium for romps, and a theatre for +dramatic performances. "There," says Louisa, "we dramatized the fairy +tales in great style," Jack the Giant-killer and Cinderella being +favorites, the passion for the stage which came near making Louisa an +actress, as also her sister Anna, getting early development. + +The fun and frolic of these days were the more enjoyed because they +alternated with regular duties, with lessons in housework with the +mother and language lessons with the father, for which he now had +abundant leisure. As he had no other pupils, he could try all his +educational experiments in his own family. Among other exercises, the +children were required to keep a journal, to write in it regularly, +and to submit it to the examination and criticism of the parents. +Facility in writing thus became an early acquisition. It was furthered +by a pretty habit which Mrs. Alcott had of keeping up a little +correspondence with her children, writing little notes to them when +she had anything to say in the way of reproof, correction, or +instruction, receiving their confessions, repentance, and good +resolutions by the next mail. + +Some of these maternal letters are very tender and beautiful. One to +Louisa at the age of eleven, enclosed a picture of a frail mother +cared for by a faithful daughter, and says, "I have always liked it +very much, for I imagined that you might be just such an industrious +daughter and I such a feeble and loving mother, looking to your labor +for my daily bread." There was prophecy in this and there was more +prophecy in the lines with which Louisa replied: + + "I hope that soon, dear mother, + You and I may be + In the quiet room my fancy + Has so often made for thee,-- + + The pleasant, sunny chamber, + The cushioned easy-chair, + The book laid for your reading, + The vase of flowers fair; + + The desk beside the window + When the sun shines warm and bright, + And there in ease and quiet, + The promised book you write. + + While I sit close beside you, + Content at last to see + That you can rest, dear mother, + And I can cherish thee." + +The versification is still juvenile, but there is no fault in the +sentiment, and Miss Alcott, in a later note, says, "The dream came +true, and for the last ten years of her life, Marmee sat in peace with +every wish granted." + +Evidently Louisa had begun to feel the pinch of the family +circumstances. The income was of the slenderest. Sometimes Mr. Alcott +gave a lecture or "conversation" and received a few dollars; sometimes +he did a day's farm work for a neighbor; now and then Mr. Emerson +called and clandestinely left a bank note, and many valuable packages +came out from relatives in Boston; but frugal housekeeping was the +chief asset of the family. Discouraging as the outlook was, some +bitter experience might have been escaped if the Alcotts had remained +in Concord, pursuing their unambitious career. It was, however, the +era of social experiments in New England. The famous Brook Farm +community was then in the third year of its existence, and it was +impossible that Mr. Alcott should not sympathize with this effort to +ease the burden of life, and wish to try his own experiment. +Therefore, in 1843, being joined by several English socialists, one of +whom financed the undertaking, Mr. Alcott started a small community on +a worn-out not to say abandoned farm, which was hopefully christened +"Fruitlands." + +Visiting the community five or six weeks after its inception, Mr. +Emerson wrote: "The sun and the evening sky do not look calmer than +Alcott and his family at Fruitlands. They seem to have arrived at the +fact,--to have got rid of the show, and so to be serene. They look +well in July; we will see them in December." An inhospitable December +came upon the promising experiment, as it generally has upon all +similar enterprises. Under the title Transcendental Wild Oats, in +"Silver Pitchers," Miss Alcott gives a lively account of the varying +humors of this disastrous adventure. + +Whatever disappointments and privations the enterprise had in store +for their parents, the situation, with its little daily bustle, its +limitless range of fields and woods, its flower hunting and berry +picking, was full of interest and charm for four healthy children all +under the age of twelve years. The fateful December, to which Mr. +Emerson postponed his judgment, had not come before the elders were +debating a dissolution of the community. "Father asked us if we saw +any reason for us to separate," writes Louisa in her journal. "Mother +wanted to, she is so tired. I like it." Of course she did; but "not +the school part," she adds, "nor Mr. L.", who was one of her teachers. +The inevitable lessons interfered with her proper business. + +"Fruitlands" continued for three years with declining fortunes, its +lack of promise being perhaps a benefit to the family in saving for +other purposes a small legacy which Mrs. Alcott received from her +father's estate. With this and a loan of $500 from Mr. Emerson, she +bought "The Hillside" in Concord, an estate which, after the Alcotts, +was occupied by Mr. Hawthorne. Thither Mrs. Alcott removed with her +family in 1846, and the two years that followed is the period which +Louisa looked back upon as the happiest of her life, "for we had," she +says, "charming playmates in the little Emersons, Channings, +Hawthornes, and Goodwins, with the illustrious parents and their +friends to enjoy our pranks and share our excursions." Here the happy +girlish life was passed which is so charmingly depicted in "Little +Women," and here at the age of sixteen, Louisa wrote, for the +entertainment of the little Alcotts and Emersons, a series of pretty +fairy tales, still to be read in the second volume of Lulu's Library. + +Much as there was to enjoy in these surroundings, the problem of +subsistence had not been solved and, with the growth of her daughters +toward womanhood, it became more difficult for Mrs. Alcott. The world +had, apparently, no use for Mr. Alcott; there were six persons to be +fed and clothed, and no bread-winner in the family. The story is that +one day, a friend found her in tears and demanded an explanation. +"Abby Alcott, what does this mean?" asked the visitor, and when Mrs. +Alcott had made her confessions, her friend said, "Come to Boston and +I will find you employment." + +Accepting the proposition, the family removed to Boston in 1848, and +Mrs. Alcott became the agent of certain benevolent societies. Mr. +Alcott taught private classes, or held "conversations"; the older +daughters, Anna and Louisa, found employment; and we may think of the +family as fairly comfortable during the seven or eight years of its +life in Boston. "Our poor little home," says Miss Alcott, "had much +love and happiness in it, and was a shelter for lost girls, abused +wives, friendless children, and weak and wicked men. Father and mother +had no money to give but they gave time, sympathy, help; and if +blessings would make them rich, they would be millionaires." Fugitive +slaves were among the homeless who found shelter, one of whom Mrs. +Alcott concealed in an unused brick oven. + +In Miss Alcott's journal of this period, we find the burden of +existence weighing very heavily upon her, a state of mind apparently +induced by her first experience in teaching. "School is hard work," +she says, "and I feel as though I should like to run away from it. But +my children get on; so I travel up every day and do my best. I get +very little time to write or think, for my working days have begun." +Later, she seems to have seen the value of this experience. "At +sixteen," she writes, "I began to teach twenty pupils and, for ten +years, I learned to know and love children." + +Amateur theatricals were still the recreation of the Alcott girls, as +they had been almost from infancy, and the stage presented a +fascinating alternative to the school-room. "Anna wants to be an +actress and so do I," writes Louisa at seventeen. "We could make +plenty of money perhaps, and it is a very gay life. Mother says we are +too young and must wait. Anna acts splendidly. I like tragic plays and +shall be a Siddons if I can. We get up harps, dresses, water-falls, +and thunder, and have great fun." Both of the sisters wrote many +exciting dramas at this period, and one of Louisa's, "The Rival Prima +Donnas," was accepted by the manager of the Boston Theatre, who +"thought it would have a fine run" and sent the author a free pass to +the theatre, which partly compensated for the non-appearance of the +play. Some years later, a farce written by Louisa, "Nat Bachelor's +Pleasure Trip, or the Trials of a Good-Natured Man," was produced at +the Howard Athenaeum, and was favorably received. Christie's experience +as an actress, in Miss Alcott's novel entitled, "Work," is imaginary +in its incidents, but autobiographical in its spirit. + +All these experiments in dramatic literature, from Jack the +Giant-Killer on, were training the future story-teller. Miss Alcott's +first story to see the light was printed in a newspaper at the age of +twenty, in 1852, though it had been written at sixteen. She received +$5.00 for it, and the event is interesting as the beginning of her +fortune. This little encouragement came at a period of considerable +trial for the family. The following is from her journal of 1853: "In +January, I started a little school of about a dozen in our parlor. In +May, my school closed and I went to L. as second girl. I needed the +change, could do the wash, and was glad to earn my $2.00 a week." +Notice that this is her summer vacation. "Home in October with $34.00 +for my wages. After two days' rest, began school again with ten +children." The family distributed themselves as follows: "Anna went to +Syracuse to teach; father to the west to try his luck,--so poor, so +hopeful, so serene. God be with him. Mother had several boarders. +School for me, month after month. I earned a good deal by sewing in +the evening when my day's work was done." + +Mr. Alcott returned from the west, and the account of his adventures +is very touching: "In February father came home. Paid his way, but no +more. A dramatic scene when he arrived in the night. We were awakened +by the bell. Mother flew down crying, My Husband. We rushed after and +five white figures embraced the half-frozen wanderer who came in, +hungry, tired, cold, and disappointed, but smiling bravely and as +serene as ever. We fed and warmed and brooded over him, longing to ask +if he had made any money; but no one did till little May said, after +he had told us all the pleasant things, 'Well, did people pay you?' +Then with a queer look he opened his pocket book, and showed one +dollar, saying with a smile, 'Only that. My overcoat was stolen, and I +had to buy a shawl. Many promises were not kept, and traveling is +costly; but I have opened the way, and another year shall do better.' +I shall never forget how beautifully mother answered him, though the +dear, hopeful soul had built much on his success: but with a beaming +face she kissed him, saying, 'I call that doing very well. Since you +are safely home, dear, we don't ask anything else.'" + +One of Miss Alcott's unfulfilled purposes was to write a story +entitled "The Pathetic Family." This passage would have found a place +in it. It deserves to be said that Mr. Alcott's faith that he had +"opened a way and another year should do better," was justified. +Fifteen years later, from one of his western tours, he brought home +$700, but, thanks to Louisa's pen, the family were no longer in such +desperate need of money. + +More than once Miss Alcott declares that no one ever assisted her in +her struggles, but that was far from true, as appears from many favors +acknowledged in her journal. It was by the kindness of a lady who +bought the manuscripts and assumed the risk of publication, that her +first book, "Flower Fables," was brought out in 1854. It consisted of +the fairy tales written six years before for the little Emersons. She +received $32.00, a sum which would have seemed insignificant thirty +years later when, in 1886, the sale of her books for six months +brought her $8,000; but she says, "I was prouder over the $32.00 than +over the $8,000." + +The picture of Jo in a garret in "Little Women," planning and writing +stories, is drawn from Louisa's experiences of the following winter. A +frequent entry in her journal for this period is "$5.00 for a story" +and her winter's earnings are summed up, "school, one quarter, $50, +sewing $50, stories, $20." In December we read, "Got five dollars for +a tale and twelve for sewing." Teaching, writing, and sewing alternate +in her life for the next five years, and, for a year or two yet, the +needle is mightier than the pen; but in 1856, she began to be paid $10 +for a story, and, in 1859, the _Atlantic_ accepted a story and paid +her $50. + +A friend for whose encouragement during these hard years, she +acknowledges great indebtedness and who appears as one of the +characters in her story, entitled "Work," was Rev. Theodore Parker, a +man as helpful, loving, and gentle as she depicts him, but then much +hated by those called orthodox and hardly in good standing among his +Unitarian brethren. Miss Alcott, then as ever, had the courage of her +convictions, was a member of his Music Hall congregation, and a +regular attendant at his Sunday evening receptions, finding him "very +friendly to the large, bashful girl who adorns his parlor regularly." +She "fought for him," she says, when some one said Mr. Parker "was not +a Christian. He is my sort; for though he may lack reverence for other +people's God, he works bravely for his own, and turns his back on no +one who needs help, as some of the pious do." After Mr. Parker's +death, Miss Alcott, when in Boston, attended the church of Dr. C. A. +Bartol, who buried her mother, her father and herself. + +In 1857, the Alcotts returned to Concord, buying and occupying the +Orchard House, which thenceforth became their home. Other family +events of the period were, the death of Miss Alcott's sister +Elizabeth, Beth in "Little Women," the marriage of Anna, Meg in +"Little Women," and a proposal of marriage to Louisa, serious enough +for her to hold a consultation over it with her mother. Miss Alcott is +said to have been averse to entangling alliances for herself, to have +married off the heroines in her novels reluctantly at the demand of +her readers, and never to have enjoyed writing the necessary +love-passages. + +The year 1860, when Miss Alcott is twenty-seven, has the distinction +of being marked in the heading of her journal as "A Year of Good +Luck." Her family had attained a comfortable, settled home in Concord; +Mr. Alcott had been appointed superintendent of public schools, an +office for which he was peculiarly well qualified and in which he was +both happy and admirably successful; Anna, the eldest sister, was +happily married; May, the youngest, was making a reputation as an +artist; and Louisa, in perfect health, having in May before, "walked +to Boston, twenty miles, in five hours, and attended an evening +party," was becoming a regular contributor to the _Atlantic_, and +receiving $50, $75, and sometimes $100 for her stories. + +In these happy conditions, Miss Alcott sat down to a more ambitious +attempt at authorship and wrote the first rough draft of "Moods," a +"problem novel" that provoked much discussion and, though it caused +her more trouble than any other of her books, was always dearest to +her heart. It was written in a kind of frenzy of poetic enthusiasm. +"Genius burned so fiercely," she says, "that for four weeks, I wrote +all day and planned nearly all night, being quite possessed by my +work. I was perfectly happy, and seemed to have no wants. Finished the +book, or a rough draft of it, and put it away to settle." It was not +published till four years later. Even in this year of good luck, there +seem to have been some privations, as she records being invited to +attend a John Brown meeting and declining because she "had no good +gown." She sends a poem instead. + +The breaking out of the Civil War stirred Miss Alcott's soul to its +depths, and we have numerous references to its progress in her +journal. "I like the stir in the air," she writes, "and long for +battle like a war-horse when he smells powder." Not being permitted to +enlist as a soldier, she went into a hospital in Washington as a +nurse. Her experiences are graphically and dramatically told in +"Hospital Sketches." That book, chiefly made from her private letters, +met the demand of the public, eager for any information about the +great war; it was widely read and, besides putting $200 in her purse, +gave her a reputation with readers and publishers. Many applications +for manuscript came in and she was told that "any publisher this side +of Baltimore would be glad to get a book" from her. "There is a sudden +hoist," she says, "for a meek and lowly scribbler. Fifteen years of +hard grubbing may come to something yet." Her receipts for the year +1863, amounted to $600 and she takes comfort in saying that she had +spent less than one hundred on herself. + +The following year, after having been twice re-written, "Moods" was +brought out and, thanks to the "Hospital Sketches," had a ready sale. +Wherever she went, she says, she "found people laughing or crying over +it, and was continually told how well it was going, how much it was +liked, how fine a thing I had done." The first edition was exhausted +in a week. An entire edition was ordered by London publishers. She was +very well satisfied with the reception of "Moods" at the time, though +in after years when fifty thousand copies of a book would be printed +as a first edition, the sale of "Moods" seemed to her inconsiderable. + +The present day reader wonders neither at the eagerness of the public +for the book, nor at the criticisms that were freely made upon it. It +is interesting from cover to cover and as a study of "a life affected +by moods, not a discussion of marriage," it is effective. In spite, +however, of the warning of the author, everyone read it as "a +discussion of marriage," and few were satisfied. The interest centres +in the fortunes of a girl who has married the wrong lover, the man to +whom, by preference, she would have given her heart being supposed to +be dead. Would that he had been, for then, to all appearance, she +would have been contented and happy. Unfortunately he returns a year +too late, finds the girl married and, though endowed with every virtue +which a novelist can bestow upon her hero, he does not know enough to +leave the poor woman in peace. On the contrary, he settles down to a +deliberate siege to find out how she feels, wrings from her the +confession that she is miserable, as by that time no doubt she was, +and then convinces her that since she does not love her husband, it is +altogether wrong to live under the same roof with him. Surely this was +nobly done. Poor Sylvia loves this villain, Miss Alcott evidently +loves him, but the bloody-minded reader would like to thrust a knife +into him. However, he is not a name or a type, but a real man, or one +could not get so angry with him. All the characters live and breathe +in these pages, and no criticism was less to the purpose than that +the situations were unnatural. Miss Alcott says "The relations of +Warwick, Moor, and Sylvia are pronounced impossible; yet a case of the +sort exists, and a woman came and asked me how I knew it. I did not +know or guess, but perhaps felt it, without any other guide, and +unconsciously put the thing into my book." + +Everyone will agree that Miss Alcott had earned a vacation, and it +came in 1865, in a trip to Europe, where she spent a year, from July +to July, as the companion of an invalid lady, going abroad for health. +The necessity of modulating her pace to the movements of a nervous +invalid involved some discomforts for a person of Miss Alcott's +pedestrian abilities, but who would not accept some discomforts for a +year of European travel? She had a reading knowledge of German and +French, and in the abundant leisure which the long rests of her +invalid friend forced upon her, she learned to speak French with +facility. + +On her return from Europe, she found her circumstances much improved. +She had established her position as a regular contributer to the +_Atlantic_ whose editor, she says, "takes all I'll send." In 1868, +she was offered and accepted the editorship of _Merry's Museum_ at a +salary of $500, and, more important, she was asked by Roberts Brothers +to "write a girl's book." Her response to this proposition was "Little +Women," which she calls "the first golden egg of the ugly duckling, +for the copyright made her fortune." Two editions were exhausted in +six weeks and the book was translated into French, German and Dutch. + +"Little Men" was written, a chapter a day, in November of the same +year, and "An Old-fashioned Girl," a popular favorite, the year +following. "Hospital Sketches" had not yet outlived its welcome, was +republished, with some additions, in 1869, and two thousand copies +were sold the first week. She is able to say, "Paid up all debts, +thank the Lord, every penny that money can pay,--and now I feel as if +I could die in peace." Besides, she has invested "$1,200 for a rainy +day," and is annoyed because "people come and stare at the Alcotts. +Reporters haunt the place to look at the authoress, who dodges into +the woods." + +The severe application which her achievement had cost had impaired +Miss Alcott's fine constitution and, in 1870, taking May, her artist +sister, she made a second trip to Europe, spending the summer in +France and Switzerland and the winter in Rome. A charming account of +the adventures of this expedition is given in "Shawl-Straps." A +pleasant incident of the journey was the receipt of a statement from +her publisher giving her credit for $6,212, and she is able to say +that she has "$10,000 well invested and more coming in all the time," +and that she thinks "we may venture to enjoy ourselves, after the hard +times we have had." + +In 1872, she published "Work: a story of Experience," and it is for +the most part, a story of her own experience. "Christie's adventures," +she says, "are many of them my own: Mr. Power is Mr. Parker: Mrs. +Wilkins is imaginary, and all the rest. This was begun at eighteen, +and never finished till H. W. Beecher wrote me for a serial for the +_Christian Union_ and paid $3,000 for it." It is one of the most +deservedly popular of her books. + +In 1877, for Roberts Brothers' "No Name Series," Miss Alcott wrote "A +Modern Mephistopheles," her least agreeable book, but original, +imaginative, and powerful. The moral of the story is that, in our +modern life, the devil does not appear with a cloven foot, but as a +cultivated man of the world. Miss Alcott's Mephistopheles is even +capable of generous impulses. With the kindness of a Good Samaritan, +he saves a poor wretch from suicide and then destroys him morally. The +devil is apparently a mixed character with a decided preponderance of +sinfulness. + +Miss Alcott had now reached her forty-fifth year, had placed her +family in independent circumstances, thus achieving her early +ambition, and the effort began to tell upon her health. A succession +of rapid changes soon came upon her. Mrs. Alcott, having attained her +seventy-seventh year, was very comfortable for her age. "Mother is +cosy with her sewing, letters, and the success of her 'girls,'" writes +Miss Alcott in January; but in June, "Marmee grows more and more +feeble," and in November the end came. "She fell asleep in my arms," +writes Louisa; "My duty is done, and now I shall be glad to follow +her." + +May, the talented artist sister, whom Louisa had educated, had once +taken to Europe and twice sent abroad for study, was married in London +in 1878, to a Swiss gentleman of good family and some fortune, Mr. +Nieriker. The marriage was a very happy one but the joy of the young +wife was brief. She died the year following, leaving an infant +daughter as a legacy to Louisa. + +Mr. Emerson's death in 1882, was, to her, much like taking a member of +her own family: "The nearest and dearest friend father ever had and +the man who helped me most by his life, his books, his society. I can +never tell all he has been to me,--from the time I sang Mignon's song +under his window (a little girl) and wrote letters _a la Bettine_ to +him, my Goethe, at fifteen, up through my hard years, when his essays +on Self-Reliance, Character, Compensation, Love, and Friendship helped +me to understand myself and life, and God and Nature." + +Mr. Alcott is still with her, vigorous for his years. In 1879, at the +age of eighty, he inaugurated the Concord School of Philosophy, "with +thirty students. Father the dean. He has his dream realized at last, +and is in glory, with plenty of talk to swim in." The school was, for +Miss Alcott, an expensive toy with which she was glad to be able to +indulge her father. Personally she cared little for it. On one of her +rare visits to it, she was asked her definition of a philosopher, and +responded instantly: "My definition is of a man up in a balloon, with +his family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth +and trying to haul him down." For her father's sake, she rejoiced in +the success of the enterprise. Of the second season, she writes, "The +new craze flourishes. The first year, Concord people stood aloof; now +the school is pronounced a success, because it brings money to the +town. Father asked why we never went, and Anna showed him a long list +of four hundred names of callers, and he said no more." + +In addition to the labors which the school laid upon Mr. Alcott, he +prepared for the press a volume of sonnets, some of which are +excellent, especially one to Louisa: + + "Ne'er from thyself by Fame's loud trump beguiled, + Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere,-- + I press thee to my heart as Duty's faithful child." + +Mr. Alcott seemed to be renewing his youth but, in November, he was +prostrated by paralysis. "Forty sonnets last winter," writes Louisa, +"and fifty lectures at the school last summer, were too much for a man +of eighty-three." He recovered sufficiently to enjoy his friends and +his books and lingered six years, every want supplied by his devoted +daughter. + +With Miss Alcott the years go on at a slower pace, the writing of +books alternating with sleepless nights and attacks of vertigo. "Jo's +Boys" was written in 1884, fifty thousand copies being printed for the +first edition. In 1886, her physician forbids her beginning anything +that will need much thought. Life was closing in upon her, and she did +not wish to live if she could not be of use. In March, 1888, Mr. +Alcott failed rapidly, and died on the sixth of the month. Miss Alcott +visited him and, in the excitement of leave-taking, neglected to wrap +herself properly, took a fatal cold, and two days after, on the day of +his burial, she followed him, in the fifty-sixth year of her age. Dr. +C. A. Bartol, who had just buried her father, said tenderly at her +funeral: "The two were so wont to be together, God saw they could not +well live apart." + +If Miss Alcott, by the pressure of circumstances, had not been a +writer of children's books, she might have been a poet, and would, +from choice, have been a philanthropist and reformer. Having worked +her own way with much difficulty, it was impossible that she should +not be interested in lightening the burdens which lay upon women, in +the race of life, and though never a prominent worker in the cause, +she was a zealous believer in the right of women to the ballot. She +attended the Woman's Congress in Syracuse, in 1875, "drove about and +drummed up women to my suffrage meeting" in Concord, she says, in +1879, and writes in a letter of 1881, "I for one don't want to be +ranked among idiots, felons, and minors any longer, for I am none of +them." + +To say that she might have been a poet does her scant justice. She +wrote two or three fine lyrics which would justify giving her a high +place among the verse-writers of her generation. "Thoreau's Flute," +printed in the _Atlantic_, has been called the most perfect of her +poems, with a possible exception of a tender tribute to her mother. +Personally, I consider the lines in memory of her mother one of the +finest elegiac poems within my knowledge: + + "Mysterious death: who in a single hour + Life's gold can so refine, + And by thy art divine, + Change mortal weakness to immortal power." + +There are twelve stanzas of equal strength and beauty. The closing +lines of this fine eulogy we may apply to Miss Alcott, for both lives +have the same lesson: + + "Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, + To earn the true success,-- + To live, to love, to bless,-- + And make death proud to take a royal soul." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Daughters of the Puritans, by Seth Curtis Beach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAUGHTERS OF THE PURITANS *** + +***** This file should be named 25582.txt or 25582.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/8/25582/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Chris Logan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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